Meetings
30 Jul 2016


My First Fuck

Many thanks for your comments and likes on my first installment. Comments will encourage me to continue.

I've known John for years and years. We were founder members of Sprats, the youth section of the local Angling Society. His was the first cock in my mouth and my cunt and he emptied his balls into me both times. I was hooked!

John first fucked me when I went night fishing alone. I couldn't find anybody to go with so had to go on my own. No problem, I'd done it many times before. My favourite place was available when I arrived, in fact there was nobody else there at all. I got myself sorted, rods, rests, alarms, shelter etc. and was sorting through my tackle box when John pitched up.

“Hi! Kid,” he called as he walked passed to claim the next platform for himself. Having dumped his gear he wandered back over. John crouched down beside me and looked in my box.

“Whacha looking for?” he said as he nonchalantly picked up my strip of pills. He looked at them, turned them over, looked at the back then put them back where he found them. He said nothing and nor did I.

“That's a great box,” he said, “what's in it?”

“My priests,” I told him, lifting the big box from the bottom of the tackle box. “Dad loves to work with his lathe. He turned me a priest when I was little and just starting to fish regularly. It's made of beech, fitted my little hand perfectly, here...” I opened the box and passed him my smallest priest.

His fingers stroked the polished wood, caressing the flowing curves. He handed it back almost reverently.

“It's beautiful.” he said.

“When I was bigger he made me this one.” I passed it to John, “It's thicker and longer, made of American walnut and takes on a glorious lustre when it's oiled.”

John stroked it almost as lovingly as I do.

“Last year he gave me this one for my birthday. It's longer and thicker again, a proper size. It's made of ebony. When I polish it, it looks big, black and beautiful.” I explained with an unconscious breathlessness in my voice.

John held it, hefted it and stroked along the smooth curves before carefully placing it back in its place and fastening the lid.

“You don't use them for fish, do you.” he said .

“No.” I admitted, “Never.” We both knew what I used them for.

We chatted a bit longer then he stood up.

“Gotta get my kit sorted,” he said, “busy night ahead.”

“Busy night?” I questioned. Busy and fishing are not two words would expect to find in the same sentence.

“Yep!” he responded, “I'll be over at midnight. I'm gonna fuck you all night!”

My cunt flooded instantly.

Technically I wasn't a virgin. The priests had seen to that! They were my favourite pieces of fishing equipment and lived in my tackle box which when not in use, lived in my bedroom. They were always available while looking perfectly innocent. None had ever touched a fish but many's the night when I took a priest to my bed and imagined it was a cock driving deep into my cunt.

Despite this longing for a real, live, throbbing cock I had never gone looking for one. Nice girls just didn't. Nice girls waited patiently until one offered its services whereupon the nice girl put up token resistance just long enough to prevent said cock going elsewhere, then capitulating.

I was a fisher(wo)man, by default I had patience aplenty but that didn't stop me preparing. Just in case the cock in question didn't have enough condoms (note the plural) I went to the doctor and told her that my erratic periods were really playing havoc with my fishing plans.

“Okay” I said, “see you later.” I'd put up enough token resistance I decided.

When John had got back to his pitch I did the same as he had, checked my pills to make sure I hadn't forgotten any. I had absolutely no doubt that John would return at midnight nor that he would fuck me all night. It didn't cross my mind that he shouldn't or that I should refuse him. I fished carefully for an hour trying to catch something. Dad always asked what I had caught and it's always better to have something real to say, or an excuse for catching nothing. I didn't think 'cock and it fought hard all night' would be well received.

By eleven thirty my shelter was cleared and tidy with the priest box on top of the tackle box. The mozzie net was in place and the door ready to close. I wandered over to John and as nonchalantly as possible asked for his sleeping bag.

I was between the unzipped sleeping bags by a quarter to midnight. I'd freshened up, stripped naked and was playing with my a priest while my imagination ran wild. A real cock! At last I was going to feel what a real cock sliding into my cunt felt like. And filling it with spunk! My cunt was soaked.

“You Okay? Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course!” I hadn't expected him to be polite.

He worked his way in. When door and net were back in place I turned the dim light on. I'd had to reach up so he could see I was totally naked. I didn't rush to cover up and watched as he removed his tracksuit.

He was naked, I was naked and he came to me in the sleeping bag bed. We'd never kissed before, nor cuddled. We hadn't even held hands and now our two naked bodies were entwined. Somehow we both knew that there was no need to rush. We had the whole night ahead, we had to take our time and enjoy the moments. We kissed, we cuddled, we tickled and teased and we explored with our fingers, lips and tongues.

We both knew it was time. I reached between our warm bodies seeking his cock. I didn't tease but stroked instinctively working my hand up and down feeling it grow. The head forcing its way out of the foreskin. His hand moved down, I parted my legs wide to invite him in. His fingers stroked across my erect clitoris making me tremble with excitement.

“You're very wet,” he said, “did you use your priests?”

“Yes,” I admitted, kissing him tenderly on the lips.

“Which ones?”

“Only the smallest, I want to feel you opening me up as you slide your cock slowly into my cunt.” I told him truthfully.

When I use my priests I bend my knees and swing them outwards, opening up my cunt as much as possible. I did that automatically as John got between them. I reached forward to take his cock in my hand and tenderly stroked it, guiding it towards me, just as I do with the priests. Using one hand to part the lips and open my hole I stroked the cock down over my clitty and placed it right in front of my cunt.

“Slow! Very, very slow! Make it last. I want to remember this moment for ever.” I begged.

He was slow, gloriously slow and he teased and he wriggled and his cock moved steadily into me. When I had as much as he had to give he put his arms either side of my head and kissed me tenderly. I trembled with pleasure.

“Okay?”

“Oh yes! Very okay.” I agreed.

He started to move, I started to move. Our movement became more urgent and as I built towards my climax I became noisy. He kissed me hard to muffle my sounds and fucked me harder. I thrashed about and he kept going. Dragging my mouth from his I let out a frightening 'arrrrhhh YES! FUCK YES!' as I reached my climax.

“NO! Don't stop! Keep going! Cum inside me! Fill me! Fuck me! I want to feel you cum!” I told him when I felt him slow down. I wasn't being quiet.

John fucked me, hard, urgently. With a final thrust deep he let go. I felt it! I felt his spunk pump into me! His cock throbbed, his hips jerked and he smothered me with kisses. We slowed down. I looked at him. He looked at me and we laughed. A laugh of sheer delight. We rolled around, locked together kissing and laughing. Eventually we calmed down and John reached for a tissue. He eased his softening cock out and wrapped the tissue around it. I took another and passed it to him. He held it between my legs and I clamped it in place. White spunky stains on dark sleeping bags were never going to be easy to explain!

We laid cuddled, without speaking for a while then I got up onto one elbow and leaned over his face.

“Thank you,” I said simply, “that was incredible. Can I have some more?”

“Of course!” he replied, “all you have to do is make my cock hard again.”

I reached down and started to fondle his limp cock.

“The best way,” he said seriously, “is to use your mouth. It's wet and warm just like your cunt and it will feel like your wet warm cunt and I'll want to fuck it so my cock will get harder quicker.”

It made sense. I moved around, took the limp cock in my fingers and wrapped my lips around it. To my delight it worked. I had a stiff cock in my mouth in very little time. John started to make noises, little noises that I recognised, similar to those I made while he was fucking me. He started to move around, just as I had. The noises became more urgent the moves more frantic.

“Stop!” he exclaimed, “you'll make me cum in your mouth.”

“Is that a problem?” I asked.

“Only that I won't be able to fuck you until it has recovered and you've made me hard again.”

“Okay,” I said and put his cock back in my mouth.

The noises increased, the movements became more jerky and suddenly I felt a thickish fluid in my mouth. His cock jerked again and there was more and more and more. His cock stopped jerking and I kept in in my mouth as he rolled around as if in agony. I knew it wasn't agony because that is how I also responded.

When he had settled I released his cock and swallowed his spunk. I'd his spunk in my cunt and his spunk in my belly but I hadn't seen his spunk! I hoped that would change before morning. He pulled me to him and smothered me with kisses.

“Shit Sweetheart, that was the best!” he said then smothered me with kisses again. I felt good, very good.

We fucked three times and he ate my cunt before we settled down to sleep. We fucked again in the morning and have fucked, on and off ever since.

Oh! And his last load of spunk went all over my cunt, belly and tits. So I knew what his spunk, felt like, tasted like and looked like and I've loved spunk ever since.

Love & Kisses

John's Slut


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