As we all have noticed, from the various stories posted here, etc etc, I love sex. Love love love sex. I love my vagina, I love my vulva, I love other girl's vaginas & vulvas & ladygardens and whatever you want to call them, I love dicks and balls.
I love sex so much that my most sexually active ex and I would literally have sex, get all sweaty, finish, go in the bathroom, have more sex, get in the shower, have MORE sex, and then be done and sit around for a few hours before having sex again.
My second most sexually active ex and I would have sex so hard that we'd have to take two-day breaks so Cunt Dracula could recover. No joke. Sometimes it hurt to wipe.
I've had sex in the backseats of five cars, in several different beds, on the hall floor because we were too impatient to GET to a bed, in a closet in my high school, on a picnic table outside, on three different couches, in the shower, in the woods, on countertops, in a sink, in a lake, during a fire drill, all over the place. I even almost had sex in a cemetery once.
Even when I'm not naked, I'm a very sexual person. I've got my hood pierced, I like to comment on the way my boobs look on a given day, I've got my hands down my pants more often than a five-year-old boy, I watch more porn than most of the boys I know, I can be frequently found checking up on sex-related blogs. I brag about my bj skills often, my favourite store is Spencer's, and I review sex toys to boot. I take great pleasure in being a huge tease, even though I only tease the people I'm about to bone.
So all of this, and one night I was planning to go to A Boy's house to stay over. Obviously sex was on the agenda. He's rather shy, but he'd been drinking, so it was all going to work out for me. He gets up the nerve to start making out with me, and he's a terrible kisser. I mean terrible. I've been kissed by all kinds. And this boy takes the cake as the worst.
I decide I can deal with this, whatever, he's cute, he's VERY into me, and he has a sexy way of doing things, so I carry on with the terrible kissing. We get into the bed, more kissing ensues. Because I was sleeping over, I'd flung my lacy black Victoria's Secret bra on the floor, and am wearing a thong and a low cut t-shirt. He's fluttering his hands around by my hips, and I take the lead, as I so often find myself doing, and put his hand on my boob. It becomes apparent pretty quick that he doesn't quite know what he wants to do with that, so I help him again and put it under my shirt.
He starts this odd juggling-type thing, where he gently (we're talking barely-there-lightly) strokes one breast, then goes to the other, then back. I roll my eyes internally but let him go on with it. Eventually he gets bored, and he starts to drift his hand down.
Then he surprised me by doing a completely sexy twisty-arm thing, where he wrapped his arm around my upper thigh, and butterfly-lightly touched me outside of my underwear, and just sort of hung out with his hand teasingly between my legs. I was half on top of him because I'd needed to take control, and it worked out nicely like that.
He gets me on my back and puts his hand in my underwear. Then he becomes confused by the barbell through my hood, and I have to direct him to the warm, fleshy ball that is my real clit. Shortly after that, I have to move his hand down a tiny bit to the actual opening, and he puts a finger in. He's competent, so it's not great, just good. I'm starting to get an inkling, so I ask him if he's done this before, right? He confirms, and I let him go for a bit.
After I have to suggest he try a couple other things twice, I switch gears and put a hand down his pants. He's hung. I smile an evil grin to myself, and get him going, playing one of my favourite little games, where I copy what he does to me. Then I ask him if he'd think I was slutty if I wanted to have sex with him then.
"Well, I might be scared."
"Scared?"
"Yeah, because I've...never done it before. Maybe later?"
I was so, so grateful it was dark, because my face must've been a picture. Worst fears confirmed: he is a virgin. I'm mentally facepalming now, thinking "Fantastic, so now not only do I have to teach him to kiss, to finger, probably to eat me out, I've ALSO got to teach him to fuck. Super. Just fucking peachy." I did my best in the situation, though, and finished him off and went to sleep.
We made out a few nights later and he seemed to have improved, not trying to shove his tongue down my throat anymore. Quick learner?
So, my dear beloved readers, what would you do? What should I do? Should I give this quirky, fun, cute boy a chance even though he's terribly shy and I'd have to teach him everything? Or should I go back to the (admittedly vanilla) safe bet?
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