Jenna's Post Virginal Frustration

As Cory bushed the triangles of my bikini top off my breasts to suck my nipples, I took the more serious step of inducing Cory to lift his hips so I could unsheathing his erection from his swimwear and pull aside the gusset of my bikini pants to introduce it to my vaginal opening.

He slowly slipped it in, finding little to no resistance from my body.

This only being the second day I'd ever had sex, I was no expert on it. Indeed, I was more surprised that I already wanted more and that my body wasn't complaining about this unfamiliar insertion of a large object into it. But the words of Kate that a woman is going to have a better chance of orgasm if she's on top -- either cowgirl or reverse missionary - certainly played on my mind. I didn't doubt the truthfulness of her words. It accorded with my limited experience that, as much as the missionary position had much in favour of it, the woman's orgasm wasn't part of it.

I had no doubt that if I suggested -- even by my action -- that I wanted to flip us over, he'd be compliant.

And yet, it's not what I wanted to happen.

It's hard to put into words what I really wanted. The best I can do is that I wanted to be slowly fucked. More than that; fucked by a man, doing his man thing with his manhood buried in my body. It might have had something to do with the intimacy of lying underneath him as he did it; but I don't even feel that's a full explanation.

No, there's just something about a man doing his thing to me in a way I'd been deprived of in my life until so recently that I found overwhelming compelling. And Cory was more than enough of a man in my eyes to satisfy that desire.

I was pleased Cory didn't raise himself up and just start pounding away.

Instead, I pinned his head to my face with a hand around the back of his head as we kissed and nuzzled each other, while he did short, slow deeply pushed in thrusts, ending each one by grinding against my pubis as he screwed his cock around inside me. If he was trying to stimulate my clit with that last bit, he was having some success.

I enjoyed the feeling of him filling me and triggering, or maybe the word is activating, my most intimate spaces.

He was certainly enjoying himself. Little hums of pleasure would be breathed into my mouth as we kissed; slowly growing in potency with every thrust. He was as inexperienced as I was. I didn't expect him to last for long; but he actually lasted form much longer than I expected.

But it had to happen. Before I really wanted him to and with a now familiar grunt, he filled my vagina with his cum.

This time he quickly slid off me and fingered me and sucked my nipples to a really powerful, hip throwing orgasm of my own.

As my orgasm subsided, I lay there still on the sand for a moment, letting my body process the experience as little wavelets lapped against my crotch and Cory lay on his side next to me, his head elevated and supported by his forearm and his eyes probably focused on my breasts.

As my body reanimated, I sat up, gave Cory a little kiss and told him...

"I'm just going to rinse the sand off so we can have our lunch."

Straightening my bikini, I went out to waist deep water and then dunked myself to get the sand off my back and let me wash as much out of my long hair as I could.

The lunch I'd brought was not the celebratory sort of lunch I'd brought to our losing of our virginity. It was just some sandwiches, muffins and a couple of chocolate bars. And water instead of champagne.

Still, it gave us a chance to sit side by side in the sun, our backs rested against a tree and let our bodies dry and chat; which surprisingly never really came close to touching on the sex we'd spent the morning sharing.

Sharing the tree as a backrest entailed a certain amount of contact between us. Nothing intimate, nothing more than any friends might share in the same situation. Just hips and thighs lightly touching and a certain amount of overlap of our shoulders, which in turn meant some physical interaction between the co-joined arms which, when not being used for eating, sometimes came to rest on the others thigh.

As we leaned back on the tree, I had a good view of Cory's dick where it now rested back inside his speedos. That's not to say I was staring at it, but the occasional glance down did let me monitor it. I wasn't sure it was entirely flaccid. It suggested he still felt a degree of sexual frisson in our situation even as we were eating.

It probably wasn't helped by the fact he had an equally good view of my breasts in their tiny bikini top and I could see he was making the most of it. They might not be as big as Karen's, but they still offered a nice cleavage display with, I noticed, the cleavage hem of the triangle on the right breast offering a teasingly close encounter with the nipple; identifiable by a pronounced dimple in the material of the top.

There was a purpose in my monitoring of it. One driven by uncertainty; the uncertainty of what should happen next.

One possibility, and the one I started the day assuming would be the case, was that we simply pack our gear in the car and go home.

This after all was a friends with benefits liaison, one merely to drain our sexual frustration, not a lover's afternoon of wild passionate sex. I would have thought the proper protocol for it was a quickie, a thank you and a heading for home. More so since this was only the second time I've had sex. From what I've read, certain parts of my body are meant to be feeling stretched and in need of rest by now.

And yet, I wasn't sure I was ready to surrender up my current access to a male body when I wasn't at that time entirely sure when the next access would come.

I took my time eating my lunch, and offering up to Cory the components of his, letting the sun warm my pussy and nipples, as I struggled with the question; all while trying not to disclose my uncertainty by the tone of my voice as we idly chatted.

Cory clearly wasn't entirely without sexual thoughts either. The bulge in his speedos had got bigger. Nothing like a full erection; more like the sort of semi mongrel swelling I see in my brother Greg's swimwear when he's around Karen. But there was definitely a swelling.

I was feeling a little aroused myself; or maybe it was just the pleasant feeling of my sun warmed pussy. My nipples certainly felt a bit tighter and it subtly showed.

Having eaten the food, I leaned across Cory's legs to reach the esky (ice box for non-Australians) -- sitting along the far side of him -- to get the water bottles out.

I didn't mean it as a sexual come on. I could sense Cory, in his innocence, hold his hands above me like I was some sort of toxic substance or touching me might be regarded as some sort of assault. But in two regards, my action might have been regarded in retrospect as provocative.

The first was that my breasts rested on, and moved about on, his upper far thigh as I ferreted about in the esky. And I don't think there was any doubt that Cory knew it was my breasts doing that.

The second was that my flank was in firm contact with Cory's lower stomach; in the process, having some contact with the swollen dick in his swimmers. That contact increased as his manhood engorged; pushing up between my flank and his stomach into a full erection; still tightly sheathed by his swimmers.

As I sat back upright and handed a bottle to Cory, there it was on display in all its glory, extending well above the waistband of his speedos to somewhere just short of his navel, so tightly sheathed that the bell, and the grove just below it, were identifiable from the shaft itself in all their visually erotic, provocative magnificence. As I unscrewed the cap on my bottle and took the first sip, my eyes twisted down to watch a bubble of pre-cum emerge through the taut material of his swimmers.

But he wasn't the only one affected. I knew that brushing my nipples on his thigh had hardened them too and, while not as big as Cory's display, I too had a pair of tautly sheathed projections standing proud of my breasts. As to what might be seen between my legs, I could only speculate, but the wide camel toe evident where my mons turned under my crotch suggested quite a lot.

Cory's reaction to this might best be described as, outwardly anyway, a non-reaction. He sat there drinking his water and occasionally stopping to chat as if nothing had changed and there was nothing to see. There was no attempt to hide or disguise it, nor to draw attention to it.

But he was far from unaware of it. It only took the smallest movement of my thigh against his to cause it to surge; standing out further from his stomach while the bell swelled even further and, just maybe, his shaft seemed to lengthen while another little bubble of pre-cum was forced up through his swimmers to collect as a pool at the top of his shaft.

You didn't need a degree in psychology to recognise he, as much as I, wasn't quite sure where to take this and Cory, being slightly shy, was inhibited about instigating more sex. But then, so was I.

Eventually as I ran my hand down and across his stomach, I asked in the same awkward language that Cory uses...

"Your dick looks a bit excited. Does it want more?"

By the time I'd finished my question, my hand was wrapped around his sheathed shaft, feeling it repeatedly surge and throb powerfully into my loose hold on it. Cory, momentarily dumbstruck by my question hadn't answered before I added...

"I think it's saying yes."

"I think it's saying yes too."

"Ok, well lay down and we'll give it more."

Cory sort of bum walked himself into a horizontal position on the towel while I, squatting alongside him, kept my loose grip on his erection, pulling it in the direction of his travel. As he settled in, I unsheathed his erection and stretched myself out to pull his swimmers off and down his legs; Cory facilitating my action by lifting whatever part of his body was hindering my cause.

But instead of bouncing back, I caressed and even kissed along his legs, my swivelled kneeling pose away from him no doubt offering him a good view of my crotch and whatever state it was in. I suppose I just thought it was time for us to develop some sort of concept of foreplay; something I was as bad at as he was.

As I came back to a squatting position alongside his hips, I kissed up the length of his shaft before moving on and caressing and kissing his chest as well; running my fingers through his chest hairs. As soon as the ties of my bikini top were in reach, he undid them and pulled it off me; running his own hand across my chest; playing across my breasts and nipples without completely focusing on them.

Running his hand down my stomach, he tugged at the waistband of my bikini bottoms, circling around it to pull them down to my knees; as far as they could go while I remained in my kneeling position. Using my arm for balance, I lifted each knee in turn to let him remove them altogether.

As I played with his chest, he stroked my torso, from my breasts down to my mons; the latter being particularly stimulating of my arousal.

I decided it was time to lay down on him; at first half over while we kissed and cuddled, then on top where his erection pushed into my crease. Then, sitting upright into a cowgirl position, I wrapped my hand around the base of his shaft and lifted it up to let me sit on it; penetrating my body.

Continuing to wrap my hand around the lower half of his shaft, and again following instructions I'd got from Kate, I gently rose up and down on it, angling my body and using my hand to rake the top of his shaft firmly against my g spot.

It took a little while to activate it and bring it to life; but when I did it was pure erotic bliss. I moaned in pleasure as I rode Cloy to my climax. As I did, I lay down on top of him and brought him to full penetration to let him feel my contractions pummel his manhood.

Then I induced him to roll over and put himself on top of me to find his own pleasurable release. He willingly accepted the invitation. But I was pleased how lovingly he did it. He didn't just bang away at me, instead, as he had done earlier on the water's edge, he slowly thrust in and out with long strokes as he nuzzled my cheeks and lightly bit my neck.

It was only as he approached his own climax that he lifted his head over my face. It let me watch in satisfaction as his own pleasure was signalled by the way he first closed his eyes, then formed his mouth into an almost pained circle, his thrusts slowing and then stopping on full penetration. I could feel his erection pulsing and throbbing out his cum into my vagina as he vocalised a succession of grunts before burying his face in the towel next to my head to let him continue moaning until his orgasm had run it full course.

When the moaning was finished he continued to lay there for a while as I stroked my hand through his hair; his manhood, as far as I could tell, still hard, but no longer pumping out his seed.

He seemed in no hurry to get up and nor was I impatient for him to do so.

Whatever might be my deeper emotional feeling towards Cory, he certainly had introduced me to the pleasures of making love to a man. Not just orgasmic pleasures but those of intimacy and the joining of bodies which provided a form of erotic joy that no amount of self-pleasuring can ever achieve. For all his inexperience, or maybe because of it, he was a thoughtful and patient love maker.

As the time came when his erection subsided and we had the awkward moment of how to handle our post sex behaviour, Cory rolled off me and sat next to me, his hand stroking my lower stomach as he turned his head towards my face, but still found my breasts a constant distraction. I looked up at the tall, attractive, male figure sitting next to me.

So far, this arrangement was working well. If only we had somewhere more convenient to meet. Still, the moment came when I felt the need to suggest...

"I think it might be time for us to head for home."

Still floundering around for somewhere we can hold our friends with benefits liaisons without the long drive to my horse stables, as we drove home, I asked Cory if he'd like to go for a sail the day after tomorrow. It would not have been obvious to Cory that sex was an objective.

But I was aware Greg and Karen had enjoyed a good root post sail in the women's' shower there, and being mid-week, I figured we could get away with the same. The sail beforehand was more of a subterfuge, but hey, I enjoy my sailing, so that was an extra benefit.

Cory was a non-sailor. The 29er sailing skiff I sail is not ideal for beginners, but I've taken friends out on it before and, with a bit of initial instruction on the shore as to how to use the spinnaker and trapeze, you can usually have an enjoyable sail.

The morning of our sail presented us with a moderate breeze; sort of ideal. Too light a wind is boring. Too heavy becomes just one long capsize.

As we rigged the boat, I noted Cory's sailing gear was a pair of board shorts with a rashie top. It was a sensible choice, rather than a seductive one.

Mine was a pair of mid blue pair of yoga pants with a bikini top in an almost matching blue; supplemented with a lather of sunscreen.

That was a slight modification to my usual sailing outfit for race days.

The yoga pants were very much my -- now -- normal sailing pants for warmish days. They were bought as part of my wardrobe revamp after I fell under the influence of Karen's dress sense; which might well be described as one leaving every male she walks past cross legged in frustration. So yes, I've sexualised my body for the male gaze. I know it and I'm almost proud of it.

The blue was chosen to match the colour of my boat. It is one of those in a really shiny material that conforms tightly to every part of your body that seems to drive guys crazy. And I do mean every part; as in sucked deeply into your bum crack and, if we have to get down to detail, into your front bottom too.

Even though I normally wore it with a pair of bikini pants underneath which moderated the extremes of the body conforming, it still attracted a lot of attention from the guys at the club; especially my usual racing crew. I knew every time I bent over the boat while I was rigging it, the eyes of every young male in the club was on me.

Some girls would be horrified by that and maybe, before Karen came along, I might have been too. Now I was more chuffed. The guys at the club certainly paid a lot more attention to me and a few had tried to hit on me. But I'd known them all long enough to know that there wasn't really one there who appealed all that much to me; so far anyway. In that area I was reviewing my standards as much as I was my clothing choices.

For today's sail with Cory, I'd omitted the bikini pants underneath. The yoga pants were at their hyper-conforming, body revealing extreme. And they were not entirely opaque when wet either. I suppose I just wanted him at his randy best by the time we got in the shower.

Normally I wear a tight fitting long sleeve rashie over my bikini top. The Australia sun is extreme and not to be fooled with. But today I was making an exception and replacing it was a lather of sunscreen. And as you might guess the bikini top was one of the small, slide tri, unlined, string tie bikini tops that I'd followed Karen in adopting. So a lot was on display.

While we were actually sailing I had to wear a lifevest over it. But my usually sailing one was a short, sleeveless, crop top style. So while it wasn't exactly sexy, it didn't cover that much and, to the extent it covered my boobs, the low front and loose fit offered Cory plenty of down blouse like views; views I saw him take every advantage of he could.

The sail was actually a lot of fun. Yes, there were a heap of capsizes as Cory didn't react quickly enough to changes in wind strength; but that was to be expected. And since the water was reasonably warm, the capsizes simply became part of the enjoyment of the day; more so as getting the boat upright and getting back on it often entailed some fairly intimate contact with each other.

Intimate enough that I several times I ended up with my crotch brushing along Cory's thighs and felt a good degree of hardness in Cory's cock as it brushed across my thigh; helped to some extent by the strappy nature of the trapeze belt he was wearing. One where the straps surrounded and highlighted, even exaggerated, the bulge of his cock, instead of covering it.

We actually stayed out there longer than I had expected to.

Kate had always told me that virginal or recently virginal males were prone to easily induced erections and Cory wasn't disappointing in that area. After we'd right the boat and he'd be back out horizontal on trapeze, his erection would be standing proud of the trap belt in a very amusing, but erotic way. I don't know what he thought about it -- probably too busy thinking about what he had to do to keep the boat upright to respond -- but I found it made me rather randy.

My normal race crew -- a randy jock type if ever there was one -- is not immune to going for a bit of a, what he thinks is a subtle, quick hump in these circumstances either. But he normally does so without getting a boner out of it.

But eventually it was time to go in and play out what had always been intended as the second objective of the day; even if that might not have been obvious to Cory.

As soon as we were ashore, I got out of my lifevest and stripped Cory of his lifevest and trapeze belt. As we quickly unrigged, I used every opportunity to bend heavily across the boat under his eyes; giving him a good tease up of what the yoga pants displayed.

As we put the boat away, I turned to him and said...

"Right. Time for a shower to get all the salt off us."