My First Time: The Massage That Shattered My Innocence
That wide oak dining table in Ernest’s house. Smooth wood under my bare ass. Heart pounding like a drum in my chest. I’d been soaking my new lace panties all morning, thinking about this. Nesty’s hands on my back felt good yesterday. Too good. Today, I wanted more. Deeper. My pussy throbbed, unknown heat pooling low. Fear twisted with hunger. What if I hated it? What if I finally came? No turning back now. I lay there topless, tits hard, nipples aching. ‘Hey Nesty?’ My voice gravelly, nervous. ‘Massage my ass.’ His hands froze. Breath hitched. I felt his eyes burn my skin.
He stammered. ‘I’d need to… lower your panties.’ Oil would ruin them, I snapped. ‘Just take them off, Nesty. Quick!’ Pulse racing, cheeks flushing. Virgin at 25, frigid all my life. Never wet like this. His fingers hooked the lace, slid it down my thighs. Cool air hit my dripping slit. Exposed. Vulnerable. Heart slamming. He gasped. ‘Paloma, your ass… sublime. A goddess.’ I flipped over fast. Legs wide. Pussy glistening. ‘Show me your cock, Ernest.’ Shame flooded him, but his pants tented hard. Small bulge, but rigid. For me.
The Tense Approach
He dropped trou. Tiny dick, stiff as iron. First real erection I’d seen live. Not porn. Mine. ‘Jerk it for me, Nesty.’ Eyes locked on my soaked cunt. He stroked, fist pumping. Faster. I spread wider, juice trickling down. ‘My pussy turns you on?’ Boom. He exploded. Cum spurting ropes across the table, floor. Missed me by inches. Hot shame mixed with triumph. My clit pulsed wild. Never felt this close. ‘Preliminaries now,’ I growled. ‘Eat me.’ He knelt, reverent. Fingers scooped my slick, fed me my own taste. Salty-sweet. Then his mouth. Tongue flicked my swollen pearl. Oh fuck. Electricity shot through me. Lips sucked, lapped deep. Hips bucked. Waves building, crashing. Screamed my first orgasm. Body shattered, juices flooding his face.
After, I panted on the table. Innocence gone. World shifted. Ernest wiped his chin, eyes worshipful. We weren’t virgins anymore. His tiny cock stirred again. Mine led to everything—fucks, humiliations, love. I owned him. He owned my fire. No regrets. Just raw hunger awakened. That table scarred my soul forever.
