Jenna's Post Virginal Frustration Ch. 02

"A bit slower."

Pulling a triangle aside from my breasts, I pressed the back of his head to bring his lips to my nipple. He took it into his mouth and sucked it in what was for me, a quite delightful way.

Emboldened, he slid his fingers deeper into my vulva and shallowly, tentatively, penetrated my vagina; drawing my juices up to my clit to lubricate it better. When I didn't object, he made that part of his stimulation of me; progressively pushing deeper into it and adding a second finger.

I happily vocalised my growing arousal. However inexperienced he might have been, what he was doing was working a treat, I'm sure accelerated by the almost primeval attraction I felt towards him.

Through all of this, my hand had been lightly fondling his manhood. It had never really gone to fully flaccid but as I recognised I was approaching my orgasm, it suddenly and quickly inflated again to its full, rock hard former glory.

With my spare hand, I started edging my pants down; not wanting to distract James from what he was doing. I got it down to my lower thighs, then brought my knees momentarily together to let the water wash it to my ankles, where I could step out of it.

It was only a minute later that, with an almighty sigh and a follow up prolonged moan, James brought me to a climax.

I froze in place, holding his hand into my crotch with my own and moving it a bit to encourage him to keep stimulating me for a moment to prolong my orgasm.

As I started to come down from it, I wrapped the hand that had been fondling his new erection around its base and drew it towards my crotch. The message was unmistakable and James got it, drawing his hand away and turning directly towards me, I pulled the erection between my legs and introduced the tip of it to my vagina. I was still contracting and I really wanted him in me before they finished.

James dipped his knees to square up the approach of his erection into me and patiently waited as I bore down on it to penetrate myself with it. I was taking it easy because he was so much thicker than Cory's that I wasn't sure how well it would go.

But it seems my body adjusts to such things and although I didn't know it at that time, I was about to find out there are some advantages to thicker erections.

Once he was fully in, I drew him towards me with my hands on his butt and stood myself upright again, giving him the mobility to drop and lift his hips to fuck me. I had some doubts about how long he'd last. Whether dropping a load before he even gets started is a good way of clearing the decks for a jolly good fuck, a sure sign of a persistent premature ejaculator or means nothing at all, is beyond my knowledge.

James body was now pressed firmly against me, his hands on my bottom and his chin almost over my shoulder. I could see he was a little nervous and uncertain.

I pushed my hands down on his butt cheeks, encouraging him to withdraw a short amount, then pulled him back up to full penetration -- or what I thought was full penetration. After a couple of times doing that, James seemed to have got the cadence of it, drew me in tighter and started controlling the flow of it himself.

That's when I learnt that thick cocks are different -- at least for me. Normally -- well, at least as far as my limited experience with Cory suggested and what Kate had told me -- getting fucked at this angle wasn't likely to hit either my g spot or clit. This is sort of 'the guy's turn' position. For the girl it might be intimate and erotic, but don't expect an orgasm from it unless the guy is contorting himself to get you one.

But James's movements were massively stimulating my g spot. He didn't need any front wall raking angle of thrust to do it for me. His thick cock so filled me that he was pushing against my g spot anyway.

Excited by it, and more than willing to display that in my vocal and physical reaction, I started passionately squirming and bouncing against him to increase my physical interaction with him. Which is when I found the second aspect of his erection.

I bounced down hard on him and the tip of his cock hit my cervix. Because it hit moderately hard, it was uncomfortable, maybe even a bit painful. But I also detected in that an underlying pleasure.

Moderating my bouncing, I managed to bring the tip against my cervix more gently and screw it around while it was there, greatly increasing my stimulation.

James hadn't penetrated me for very long before I was doing a full Meg Ryan performance; moaning, groaning, squirming about and pretty quickly, escalating the performance into a massive orgasm.

You had to wonder what a guy fucking a girl for the first time would think of such a performance. But it had one obvious effect on him. I hadn't finished my orgasm before he was climaxing too; pulling me tightly against him and grunting as his fully penetrated manhood released pulse after pulse of his cum into me.

Overwhelmed with endorphins, I grabbed his face and kissed it passionately, continuing to kiss him for the several minutes it took his cock to soften and fall out of me.

After that came to awkward 'what happens next' moment as our bodies separated. I'm not very good at it and, since this was James's first time, I didn't expect him to be either. I looked at him, ran my hand through his wet hair and said...

"Wow, that was fantastic James."

His flustered response was...

"That was fantastic for me too."

I turned off the taps, took of my wet bikini top, hung it and the pants - until now on the floor - on the tap and picked up my towel from the nearby chair. As I pat dried myself I asked James if he had a towel handy. He didn't; only the one in his van.

I offered him mine as I put on a spare dry bikini I always have as part of my sailing kit; this one being a very Karen (as in my brother's girlfriend) like revealing one I'd chosen for this moment. It wasn't quite as out there as my new ultra-Brazilian, but was close to it. I had a sun dress too, but held that in reserve. Then I tidied up the rest of the wet clothing; wringing out the excess water and hanging it to at least start to drip dry.

Not really having much experience in what to expect of post sailing conditions, he also hadn't bought a change of clothing, only having a dry pair of boardies in his van. I offered to go and get it and his towel, leaving him temporarily waiting naked in the lady's room.

The trip to the van was revealing. An old Transit van, it was actually set up as a basic camper with a comfortable looking double bed across the back. That was an interesting revelation.

The boardies didn't look to me like an intended change of clothing. They were old, faded and the material degraded. Maybe he kept them there as sleeping pants, maybe there were just there as emergency pants. Still, bringing the boardies back to James, we set about finishing putting the boat away and laying out our wet clothing to at least start to dry in the sun. As for us, being dry and in the sun, the wind no longer felt as cold, so our dressed down state was comfortable enough, even if you could almost see through James's old boardies and they constantly looked as if the stretched waistband was not going to succeed in the job of holding them up, letting them sit pubic hair revealingly low on his waist.

I'd brought a bit of lunch for us in the form of sandwiches and muffins, so I suggested we go and sit on the club's upper story deck to have it. It faced north (towards the sun for those in the northern hemisphere) and was protected from the cooler Southerly wind. A delightful spot even on a less than perfect day.

There were a couple of old wooden bench seat style picnic tables up there so we chose the one nearest the front wall of the upper story to maximise the wind protection; sitting alongside each other facing out over the water.

Really the lunch had been intended as a mere distraction I could use to hang around him a bit longer. And in that it was delightful. We never seem to not have things to talk about; one conversation running easily into the next. I managed to ask him about the camper van. He and his sister were keen surfers and had bought the van together when they'd first got their licences and their dad had helped them fit it out for camping at away surfing spots.

They'd thought about trying to put in two single bunk beds instead of the double, but it would have made the van ungainingly crowded and probably worth a lot less when they came to sell it and since he and his sister had spent 9 months sharing their mother's womb, weren't that fazed about sharing a bed when they were away surfing together, they went with the double.

We also danced about the issue of our sexual backgrounds and what we'd just shared. I openly admitted to him that sex hadn't been a big thing with me and my brother until his girlfriend Karen came along and their constant fucking had driven me to lose my own virginity with an equally virgin good friend. I confirmed I was using birth control and discussed STI's to the extent of admitting I wouldn't have been willing to have had unprotected sex with him if he hadn't mentioned his inexperience. Since none of us had been exposed to an STI is seemed OK. I didn't tell him that I had a condom in my bag.

His own story was that he was at an all-boys school in Sydney and while studying to get into Uni he hadn't really had time to seriously chase girls.

Through all of this we'd been sitting very close together; as in hips and shoulders touching and arms constantly brushing against each other. I don't think James was aware of it, but I was more than a little distracted by the fact that the loose waistband of his boardies was hanging open as he sat down; more so after he lifted the leg furthest from me to rest it on the beam running through the underside of the table. His cock was fully visible when I dared to take a look down, trying not to be caught in the same way I could see his eyes keep drifting down to my breasts and their generous cleavage display from my bikini top.

While the only time I got a look at his flaccid cock was when he was drying himself, what I could see didn't look entirely flaccid even if it wasn't aroused to the vertical; instead it looked firmer than a flaccid one and extended all the way out to his hips. Which I was pleased about on several levels, only one of which was it made me feel less guilty about the nipples poking out on high beam very visibly in my bikini top.

As I said, bringing lunch had delivered what I wanted; more time with James to both enjoy his company and get to know him. I can't deny, the sex after sailing had been deviously planned to look like something that 'just happened' and had actually turned out better than I expected.

But the thought of having sex with him twice on what amounted to our second date -- and it wasn't even really what you would really call a date -- had seemed a bit over the top and likely to raise some doubts in him as to what sort of girl I was.

But spending such a long time sitting in close contact and talking to him had well and truly triggered a hormonal response in me that made me start to question that decision.

It may have been a lucky bit of fate that final did it. One of the bags I'd brought the sandwiches in started to blow across the table away from us. I instinctively grabbed for it, knowing if I didn't get it quickly it would blow into the water at the end of the deck and I'd have a much harder job of getting it back. I missed it and as it continued to blow away from me, threw myself across the table to catch it before it blew any further away. You know how it is when you try and catch something flighty like that being blown about. Every time you think you're going to nail it, it sort of changes direction and you just miss it again.

It ended up on the bench seat on the other side of the table before I captured it. But that left me spread-eagled across the table, my butt pretty well in James's face.

I can only guess that's what triggered him. I had on a tautly fitted more traditional Brazilian bikini bottom. It didn't sit all the way down in my bum crack like the Ultra Brazilian one did, but it did mould somewhat to my bum checks and I suspect also offered him a nice view of my flattened out mons bulge.

Or maybe it was the fact that I accidently -- yes it was accidental -- landed half on his lap when I sat down again.

Whatever it was, by the time I settled down next to him again, he had a full boner with half of it rising exposed over the waistband of his boardies.

As he praised me for the quickness of my reactions, I could tell he was trying to hold my gaze as he decided whether he could kiss me. I wanted him to make the first move, but as we playfully talked about the incident I leant in towards him enough to make it easier for him and, I hoped, give him a message I was responsive. It was all he needed. He came in for the kiss and when I reciprocated, went the full French kiss on me. When I accepted that, he put his hand around me, under my armpit to pull me in tighter, his forearm brushing my breast as he did so.

Now emboldened, his hand slid back to cup my breast and let him tweak my already raised nipple.

And when I didn't react to that he moved his hand under the triangle of my bikini top to give direct contact with it.

I'd responded to his first move by placing my hand across his upper stomach. Only now, as we continued to kiss, did I move it down his stomach until I found my wrist make contact with the towering shaft of his erection. I wrapped my hand around it.

James then ran his hand down my torso and into my crotch when he slid his fingers through my vulva until he found that place under the gusset of my bikini pants where my clit responded to his touch; rubbing it gently.

It had all escalated rather quickly. The problem was we were sitting side by side, twisted into an uncomfortable half turn and, until we escaped the table, unable to bring ourselves to frontal contact. It may be that James was happy to just continue where we were until we fingered or jerked each other to a climax; but I was hoping for more, but was still not wanting to make the first move. He helped a lot when he asked...

"This is a bit uncomfortable. Would it be better if we lay down?"

"Yes."

"On the table?"

"No, I think that's a bit hard and a bit public. Probably on the deck."

The floor of the deck was a sort of a closely cropped artificial turf. It seemed to have some soft rubber backing or underlay. I'd sat on it often in nothing more than a bikini bottom while talking with friends after a race and it wasn't too hard on the bottom, nor too prickly.

It was also more private. The elevated deck rises above any local feature or the living space of any building looking out on it. So I figured if you're on the deck, no one can get an angle for a clear look at you. On the table would be like being on a pedestal.

Helicopters and drones on the other hand might be a different proposition.

We untangled our intertwined bodies and lay down together on the deck; on our sides, facing each other and once again kissing as James fingered my clit through my bikini bottoms and I wrapped my hand around the bare flesh of his erection, now pretty well fully exposed as his pants had all but fallen down as he moved.

James was pretty good at fingering, even though my pants. I knew I was making arousal like noises, and for good reason, when he softly asked...

"Do you want to do this properly?"

I laughed internally how awkward it is to see if the other person actually wants to go all the way; especially since just making a move isn't regarded as acceptable any more.

"If you mean have sex, then yes."

James didn't need a second invitation. He quickly pulled the bows on the side ties of my bikini pants and then reached around my back to pull the bottom tie of my bikini top. He had me stripped and his finger back fingering my now naked clit in much less than a minute.

I pushed his board shorts down as low as my hands would reach, then brought my foot up to capture it with a toe and drag it off him.

We were still on our sides when he brought his erection between my legs. With my hand already wrapped around it, I directed it to the opening to my vagina. This time I let him push it in. He hooked his upper leg over mine to pin me and did it cautiously and slowly; clearly concerned about hurting me. But my body was ready for him.

After he was fully penetrated, I rolled him on top of me. Lowering his face to my ear, he whispered...

"Is this going to work for you?"

Well, at least his sex education was reasonable. With Cory, the answer was pretty well no. But what had happened under the shower intrigued me. I wanted to see if his thicker cock worked better...

"I don't know, but I want to test it. You can finger me later if it doesn't."

Slowly James started thrusting; long stroked, deeply penetrating ones. It worked alright! The fingering may have primed me, but almost from the first stroke he was stimulating my g spot. I found myself thinking that thick cock of his needs to be patented.

My little moans communicated his success to James who seemed to grow more confident in his approach; the grin on his face worth bottling.

James continued with long, measured strokes. Fortunately he wasn't ramming them home because I could often feel the top of his erection push against my cervix on full penetration. In the way he was doing it, it was adding to my arousal; but I was cognisant of the discomfort a less considerate thrust might cause.

There was something in having James fuck me like that which was satisfying a need deep within my female brain. It went beyond the mere stimulation of my sensitive zones. It triggered memories of fantasies I'd had in my virginal years; always with the guy on top doing his man thing. I'll admit, it defied feminist beliefs because it accepted being dominated by a male and submitting to his lust.

And yet, it satisfied my lust too. A man that I desired, a man who I found stirred up my basest erotic desires was on top of me, fucking me; expressing his own sexual need for my body to accept the seed he was about to deliver into me.

I hadn't been forced to this position; it was one of mutual desires. And I didn't feel like I was just some convenient vagina into which he could deposit his load. There was a mutual attraction. It had its intellectual level, but right at that moment it was the physical attraction that was calling the shots.

It was where sex with James felt so different from that with Cory. For Cory, I was a convenient vagina, as much as for me he was a convenient penis. It worked, but there was no passion to it other than that stirred up by enough stimulation of our sexual organs.

With James, the passion felt pre-heated; the sex an expression of it rather than the cause of it.

And because it was pre-heated, my climax built at an alarmingly quick rate. My breathing got rapidly faster and the moans more obvious within minutes of his penetration of me until it felt like my whole body was about to explode. My thighs started quivering and I found myself holding James tighter and tighter.

I cried out as I came. Not intentionally; it just happened. It was followed by a succession of moans as the hips that I'd thrown up with my climax briefly swayed from side to side, taking James for the unexpected ride with them.

He'd sort of stopped thrusting as I'd lifted him up with my climax. But the 'ah...ah...ah" noises he was making signalled to me he was on the edge himself. As soon as I lowered him to the ground, he momentarily went for it, madly thrusting for the few seconds it took until a loud prolonged grunt signalled he was dumping his load into me.

His own climax extended for a while, little thrusts bringing out another round of sighs of pleasure before they finished with a series of body shaking jerks; leaving him head down alongside me panting.