Coming of age in the early 1960s, I was a virgin when I graduated from college. My only experience was my senior year when a girl let me feel her tits through her bra.

You have to remember those times. People met, fell in love, got married, THEN had sex. It was a June Cleaver, Donna Reed world. Not like today, where people have sex, have sex, think about getting married, decide not to, but still have sex. Not that I’m complaining.

I lived at home through college. After graduation, I was offered a job with a large accounting company with thousands of employees around the country. I was one step above an intern, but it paid well enough that within six months, I was able to move into a small apartment not far from work.

My work colleagues were cordial, and on Fridays when we got paid, we met for a Happy Hour drink. It was one of those bars that were starting to pop up. You know the ones with peanut shells on the floor. Those Friday evenings were a lot of laughs.

It happened just about a year after I started working. A bunch of us were having fun at Happy Hour when people started to leave. They had to get home to their families or had evening plans. I found myself alone with just one other work colleague. Her name was Yvonne Girard, and she was in her mid-forties; about my mom’s age. She had black hair, pale skin, and always dressed conservatively, even for that time period.

I’d never really looked closely at her because, well, she was my mom’s age.

She was a manager in another department, on another floor, and one of the few women at the time who were not secretaries or clerks. “Kevin, want to have dinner? I’m buying.” I’m sure she knew how little money I made.

“Sure, maybe just a hamburger.”

“How about right here? No sense in driving somewhere.”

“Sure.”

After dinner: “Miss Girard thank you for dinner. That was very nice of you.”

“Kevin, please it’s Yvonne, and you’re more than welcome. Now, if you’d like another beer, I have a six-pack at home, and a chilled bottle of wine. Why don’t you join me?”

Looking back over forty years, you probably think I was so naïve. You’re right, but you have to remember those times. This was before The Pill; it was before the sexual revolution. I remember my male classmates whispering about a couple of girls who “put out,” but I didn’t know any, and in fact, didn’t know what they put out. The only naked women I saw were in Playboy’s centerfold.

“Okay.”

Her apartment was on the twenty-fifth floor in a building with a great view of Lake Michigan.

I took in the view. “It’s nice, isn’t it? Why don’t you open a beer for yourself, and open the white wine for me? I’ll be right back. I want to take these heels off and get into something more comfortable. The kitchen’s right through there.”

As I said, I was naïve. I didn’t know what ‘get into something more comfortable’ really meant.

It was difficult to find a corkscrew, and just as difficult to figure out how to use it. My only experience with wine was the twist-off tops on very cheap wine. Besides, at the time, I only drank beer.

I couldn’t find her wine glasses, so I just left the open wine bottle on the kitchen counter and took my beer and enjoyed the view of the lakeshore all lit up at night. Yvonne came out, “I see you found a beer.”

All I could say was, “Wow!!!”

“Oh, Kevin how nice of you to say.” She turned around like a model. Whatever she was wearing was white, shear, and clung to her body. To be more specific, her tits and nipples were clearly visible through the fabric. And there was a dark patch visible between her legs.

That’s another thing. I never heard of women shaving their pubic hair until the last decade or so. As far as I knew, all women had pubic hair, even the women in Playboy.

I told her about the wine. “I’ll be right back.” I watched as she walked away, the negligee clinging to her ass. Of course, I’d watched girls my age at the local pool, wearing their tight-fitting one-piece swimsuits. Their tits and asses prominent, but this was a real woman. I don’t remember ever noticing my mom or any of her friends looking like that at the pool.

She came back and stood beside me. She took a few sips, then she put her glass down, and from behind put her arms around me. “It’s Friday night, don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“No, I never dated much at school, and now work takes up a lot of time.” I could feel her breathe on my neck, and those tits pressing against my back.

“Kevin, just for tonight, I’d like to be your girlfriend.” She turned around and was facing me, her arms still around me. Those tits rubbing against my chest. She was almost as tall as me.

Then Yvonne Girard, a woman old enough to be my mom, kissed me. It wasn’t the kind of kiss your aunt gives you when you haven’t seen her in a long time. Within moments her tongue was in my mouth, and I reciprocated.

Yvonne took the beer can from my hand and placed it on an end table. She turned around again, but this time, I was behind her. She took my hands and put them on her tits. “Hmmmmm, Kevin, your hands feel so good. Do you like the way they feel?”

What could I say? They felt spectacular. Firm and they seem to fit in my hands perfectly. “Yvonne, they’re fantastic.” Of course, I was feeling them through that sheer negligee, but that was far beyond what that college girl let me do.

Then she did something that had never happened before, she slid a hand down to my crotch. “Kevin, it looks like feeling my titties gets you excited.” Of course, it did. I was embarrassed.

That’s another thing. I’d never been around girls that used bad language. I mean if my mom spilled something, she might say ‘damn.’ My boss was probably close to sixty and was a WW II veteran; if something bad happened in the office, he’d say ‘aw, hell.’ Followed by, “ladies, pardon my French.” Of course, I swore all the time among my guy friends: “you’re a fucking asshole,” was probably my favorite, but never around girls or women.

Here I was with my hands on Yvonne’s breasts, and she called them her titties. She started rubbing her hand up and down my crotch. “Kevin, I think we’re both just about ready for me to show you my bedroom.” She took me by the hand and led the way.

Her bed was a huge king-size, four-poster bed. “Kevin, I usually sleep on this side, why don’t you go around and get in on the other side. I didn’t say much; just following her lead. I sat on the bed. “Oh, Kevin, I have a rule, no one gets in bed with their clothes on.” Yvonne slipped the negligee over her head, and then crawled under the blankets.

She was sitting up, watching me. I’d never done this before. I mean got undressed in front of a girl, I mean a woman. I was so nervous. It clearly showed. It seemed like hours before, I was able to untie my shoes, and then it seemed like I’d forgotten how to unbutton my shirt.

Finally, I slipped under the blankets, and Yvonne came into my arms. “Kevin, you seem nervous, is something wrong?”

“Well...“ I didn’t want to tell her I was a virgin.

Her hand went under the blankets. “Your cock doesn’t seem nervous.” I was still in shock about her language, but she was right, my cock was hard.

Yvonne slowly stroked it, but then took her hand off it. “Here, Kevin, give me your hand. I want you to play with my pussy.” She did it again, ‘pussy.’

As I said, this was all a first for me. “Don’t stick your fingers inside. Put them right there.” She guided my hand. “Hmmm, just like that.”

I was sure I was fumbling around, but Yvonne assured me I was doing fine. “I think you’re ready to fuck me, Kevin.”

I wanted to tell her that I’d never done this before. I wanted to tell her I was a virgin. I just couldn’t. I got on top of her, and then just like that it was over. I’m not sure that I even got inside her. I was so embarrassed. “I have to go, I’m sorry.”

“Kevin, it’s okay. It happens to all men.”

I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. It wasn’t until I got home that I realized that my socks were missing; probably still on the floor by her bed.

I couldn’t sleep. All I thought about was what I’d done. Actually, what I hadn’t done. I’d have to quit work; there’s no way I could show my face around the office. Surely, she’d tell every woman what had happened.

I didn’t calm down, but I did face reality. No, I couldn’t quit my job. I’d just have to live with my shame at work. Saturday night, I jerked off thinking about what might have been with Yvonne. And then again Sunday morning.

I dreaded Monday morning. Every woman I came across in the elevator, on my floor, in my department, I just knew that they knew. My phone was ringing when I got to my desk. “Kevin, it’s Yvonne. I had a great time Friday night. Why don’t you come over this Friday, I’ll make dinner for you?”

I thought I was dreaming. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Come right from work, and I’ll meet you there. I’m looking forward to it. Oh, and Kevin, this time bring your toothbrush.”

Then she hung up. I was stunned. I had to be dreaming. I pounded my fist on the desk. Everyone looked up. “Sorry.” I just had to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

I was looking forward to Friday night, and I wasn’t. I mean if the end result was the same disaster, why even bother showing up?

Yvonne answered the door wearing a skirt and blouse. The top few buttons of the blouse were open, showing enough cleavage that I was already salivating. “Kevin, I’m so glad you could come. I’m having a martini. Want one or would you like a beer?”

“A beer would be fine, thank you.”

No one could mistake what Yvonne had in mind, but I was apprehensive that the night could end in another catastrophe. “Now, Kevin, about last week.”

Oh, boy, here goes, I thought.

“It dawned on me after you left, and be honest with me. Kevin, you were a virgin, weren’t you?”

I blushed. My face turned red, and I put my head down.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone was a virgin at one time. I was a lot younger than you, but still, there’s a first time for everyone. And the first time, everyone is a little nervous. Now tonight, there’s nothing to be nervous or apprehensive about. You need to relax. After dinner, we’ll have a drink, then I’ll take you to bed, and we’ll fuck. It’ll be a lot better; you’ll see.”

I couldn’t believe Yvonne was so blunt, but as it turned out, she was right. I lasted a lot longer, and then later that night even longer. “Kevin, I told you. Your cock feels so good. Keep fucking me just like that,” she said the second time we did it that night. “You're so hard, usually men aren’t as hard the second time. That’s it, you fuck me so good.”

As young as I was, that second time Yvonne wore me out. Her ass, hips and legs never stopped moving underneath me. I was exhausted. “You were so good to me tonight. I’m looking forward to that big cock in the morning. Get some sleep, you’re going to need it.”

 To be fair, I had no idea I had a big cock. I had no way to compare, and of course, no woman had the opportunity to compare it with any other cock she’d had. Years later, I think it’s fair to say, I’m a little above average.

Yvonne was right. The morning fuck was even better. “That’s it, Kevin, keep fucking me, just like that. My pussy loves your cock.” All the nervousness and apprehension were gone.

We lay together in each other’s arms when we were done. “Kevin, you were amazing. Don’t you feel much better this week?”

“That was the most amazing night of my life. Thank you.”

“Kevin, it gets better. I promise. Let’s plan on next Friday night. I can’t wait,” she squeezed my hand.

The week seemed to go by slowly. I’d look at the clock every ten minutes. It seemed to never move. Yvonne answered the door wearing something like the sheer negligee she wore that first night. She greeted me with a kiss; a kiss with her tongue. “Kevin, I hope you’re ready because I’m taking you right to bed. I’ve been waiting for your cock all week.”

I couldn’t get out of my clothes fast enough. In the morning I found them strewn from the foyer to the bedroom, but it was the fucking that was unforgettable. Yvonne showed me to fuck her from behind. “Fuck me like a dog, Kevin. Give it to me good.”

Later, she was on her back, “Kevin grab my ankles. Watch your big cock going in and out of my pussy.” I liked it when she got on top. That was my favorite. I mean those beautiful tits were right in my face.

By morning, I couldn’t remember how many times I’d cum. As for Yvonne, all night she screamed with delight with each thrust. I think she liked being on top, she bounced up and down on my cock and moaned so loudly.

Before I left Saturday morning, “Kevin, next weekend is the fourthth of July. I have a cabin on Lake Geneva. Why don’t we go there for a few days?”

“That sounds like fun.” Everyone knew about the lake. It was about an hour and a half away in Wisconsin. Wealthy people, people that I’d never associated with, had summer homes there. Yvonne seemed rich compared to me, but I didn’t think she was that kind of rich.

“Kevin, I have to say, the way you fuck me is beyond anything I could imagine. A few days together, and I can’t imagine how good you’ll be.”

She picked up some groceries, and then picked me up at my apartment. It was a pleasant drive, and all Yvonne talked about was how much she was looking forward to fucking me. My cock was already hard.

When I think of a cabin, I think of something small, two or three rooms, made out of logs. Yvonne’s cabin was made out of logs, but it was two stories and sat right on the lake with spectacular views down the lake. It had four bedrooms, with an open deck, and another screened-in deck. Yvonne indicated that she owned three acres. “No one’s around to interrupt us or hear us. Kevin, if you’re like me, after work and the long drive, you need a shower. The bathroom’s in here. Why don’t you take a shower, while I put the groceries away?”

I just finished drying off when Yvonne came into the bathroom. “You might as well just wear the towel. That’s all you’ll need for a while. I won’t be too long. Open a bottle of wine for me, and there’s beer in the fridge.”

It was a weekend that I’ll never forget. Every detail is seared in my memory. When she came out of the shower, just wrapped in a towel, “Kevin, why don’t we go out on the porch? The sun will be setting soon. It’s usually spectacular.”

The screened-in porch had a couch and a few comfortable chairs. We sat on the couch and were soon engaged in a lip lock. “Kevin, remember our first night together and how embarrassed you were?”

“It was awful.”

“You’ve come a long way, and the things that your cock does to me... I’m looking forward to a lot of it this weekend, but I have a question for you.” She didn’t wait for me to say anything, “be honest. Have you ever eaten pussy?”

“Ummm, no.” I think I blushed a little.

“There’s no reason to be embarrassed. Look at this place, it’s a perfect setting to learn and a perfect place for me to show you how I like it.”  Yvonne stood up, took off the towel, and sat back down on the couch with her legs spread. “You do want to try it, don’t you?”

How could I say no? Besides, I really did want to know what pussy tastes like. What guy in his twenties doesn’t? Especially if he’s never had it before. I stood up; anxious to get on my knees. Yvonne pulled the towel from my waist. “Oh, Kevin, you’re getting hard already, just thinking of me. I promise you; we’ll have so much fun.”

I got on my knees, and I was looking directly at her pussy. It was a black triangle, framing a lovely pink pussy. “I trimmed it this morning. I didn’t want you to choke on one of my pubic hairs.” She spread her lips for me. “Go ahead, it doesn’t bite,” she laughed.

Tentatively, I used my tongue, just a little. “That’s okay, Kevin, a little at a time. Get comfortable with my taste.” For the next fifteen minutes, my tongue explored, and Yvonne let me go, not saying much, but occasionally sighing and sipping her wine. “You’re doing great. I hope you like the way I taste. Both my husbands claimed to love the way pussy tasted.”

I was enjoying the taste, but it struck me what Yvonne just said: she’d had two husbands. She’d never said anything about her personal life. Once in a while I’d lift my head to catch my breath, “Yvonne, you do taste good. I like it. I hope you’ll let me keep going.”

“Kevin, how nice of you to say. Of course, but first, can you get me another glass of wine?” I got off my knees, my cock was standing straight up, and I noticed Yvonne eyeing it. I took her glass, and in the kitchen re-filled it.

“Here ya go.” I handed her the wine glass. My cock was still stiff.

“Kevin, this is just about perfect. The sunset is beautiful, the wine is good, and I have a man who gets hard eating my pussy. You know you have a magnificent cock, and I know I’m going to enjoy it later, but now wouldn’t you like some more of my pussy?” She spread her legs.

I got back on my knees and started to lick her. “I need you to do a little more this time.” I wasn’t sure what she meant. “Your tongue, just a little higher, a little more, just a little more. Oh yeah, Kevin, right there. Oh yeah, just like that. Hmmm, Kevin, your tongue is so good to me.” She moaned and sighed, and slowly fucked my tongue.

Yvonne started making louder and louder noises, and fucking my tongue harder. For a moment, I thought I was doing something wrong; perhaps I was hurting her, although I didn’t know how that was possible. I started to lift my head up. “Oooh, God, Kevin, no, no, no don’t stop.” She pushed my head back into her pussy. My tongue found that spot again. “That’s it, right there.”

I never knew that women had orgasms. I mean, I knew guys did. I’d watched myself jerk off enough since I was sixteen. I didn’t think that happened with girls, but that apparently what was happening with Yvonne. She was still holding my head in her hands and was humping my face. “Hmmm, oh God, oh God. Oh, Kevin, Kevin, Kevin.”

She held my head tight and squeezed her thighs. “Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm. Kevin that was amazing. For your first time, I’m in awe. I look forward to the time when you know what you’re doing.”

I mumbled, “Yvonne, your pussy tastes so good. If you’d like, I’d like to keep eating you.”

“Would I like you to eat me again? Oh, Kevin, you know the way to a girl’s heart.” She let go of my head and opened her thighs.

My tongue started licking her slit up and down, up and down. “Kevin, you know where I like your tongue.” I moved my tongue to where she directed. “That’s it, right there, right there. Oh, God, you’re so good to me.”

Yvonne’s second orgasm was much more animated than her first. She was louder and it didn’t take nearly as long this time. When she finished, she needed a minute, but just a minute to compose herself. “C’mon, Kevin, take me to bed. You need to fuck me and I need that cock.”

In the few times we’d been together, she’d always been anxious, but this was different. First, there was a small guest bedroom, with two single beds, right off the screened-in porch. That’s where she took me, not upstairs to her bedroom. Second, there were no preliminaries. Yvonne got on the bed, spread her legs. “C’mon, Kevin, give me your cock. My pussy’s ready. It’s been ready since we left Chicago.”

She had never fucked me like this before. Legs pumping, ass bouncing, and she was noisy. There was far more movement, and she was much louder than ever. Don’t think I was just lying there with my cock inside her. I was slamming in and out of her. Every pump of her legs was met by a hard thrust of my cock.

She was also talkative. “Kevin, oh, Kevin, I hope your tongue loves my pussy as much as my pussy loves your tongue.”

“Yvonne, eating you made my cock so hard. Your pussy was so sweet. I hope you’re going to let me eat it again.”

We were both breathing really hard when it was over, and the single bed made it difficult to get comfortable, but after the last few hours, we didn’t care. “Kevin, I meant it, when you learn to eat pussy, I may never let your tongue leave my pussy.”

“That was so good and made my cock so hard. Whenever you want me to eat it, all you have to do is ask.”

“Kevin, that’s not how it works for me. Nothing turns me more than when you insist that you just have to eat my pussy before you fuck it.”

“You know, Yvonne, in another hour or so, I’ll be ready to eat your pussy again, but somewhere around here, you must have a bigger bed.”

She laughed, “My bed upstairs is just as big as the one at home, but I’m going to need a shower. After the way you fucked me, I’ll be leaking cum as soon as I stand up.” She might have been right, there may have been a lot of cum. It had been difficult, but I hadn’t jerked off all week.

I liked eating Yvonne’s pussy, but even better was her reaction while I was doing her, and the way she fucked afterwards. Damn, the woman was a non-stop fucking machine. I couldn’t imagine that I’d ever get fucked any better, and it was all because of the way I ate that pussy.

Later that night, I did her again, and then she did me, and there was more pussy-eating and fucking Saturday. Each was as good or better than the prior one, but it was Sunday morning that knocked my socks off, which was a saying we used back then.

Sunday morning, before things started, Yvonne was snuggled against me, “Kevin, remember that first time when you uhhhh...”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Listen to me. Then just the other night, downstairs for the first time, you ate my pussy. And it was the first time you ate any pussy.”

“Yvonne, that was incredible.”

“My point is, you’ve had some firsts. I’m going to assume that until you met me, you’d never been laid, and never ate pussy,” she slipped her hand under the blankets to my cock, “and that you’ve never had a blowjob.”

No sense in lying about it. “No, never.”

Yvonne disappeared under the blankets, and of course, I had nothing to compare, but in my mind, she gave a virtuoso performance. For the next fifteen minutes, she went up and down on my cock. All I could see was the covers moving, but I could feel her mouth.

She came up for air, and threw the covers off, “I’ll bet you’d like to watch.” She put my cock back in her mouth and looked me in the eye as her lips slowly went down my shaft, then slowly back up.

In time, she increased her speed. She was as energetic and enthusiastic as when we were fucking after I’d spent hours eating her pussy. And she hummed, kind of: “hmmm, hmmm, hmmm.” And when she came up for air: “Kevin, sucking your cock is such a treat. I know you won’t mind if I suck it all morning.”

Looking back on blowjobs I’ve had throughout my life; I can think of three kinds of women. There were those who sucked as a part of foreplay. The goal was to get my cock ready for fucking. There were those who sucked with the express goal of making me cum. And then there were those rare ones like Yvonne, who sucked for the pure joy of sucking. Except for Yvonne, I could only think of two others who fit that last category.

Yvonne went up and down, sometimes fast, sometimes slow. Other times, she sucked hard, other times soft. When she needed to catch her breath, she used her tongue; switching from my balls to my shaft to my cockhead.

I was in awe of her talent. In addition to concentrating on her work, I couldn’t help but think, why did those husbands let her go?

“Kevin, I am so ready for your cock,” she said as she came up for air one more time. I thought for sure she was ready to fuck; my cock certainly was.

That wasn’t what she had in mind; not at all. Yvonne started going up and down on my cock faster and faster. When I came, I’m sure I didn’t shoot as much cum as ever (that would have been when I was sixteen and jerking off), but it was by far the most satisfying orgasm I’d ever had. Yvonne brought me to a higher state of being. There’s never been anything like it. She crawled up, snuggled and whispered, “Kevin, your cock is magnificent. I’m going to want to blow you again.”

It took me a long time to recover from that, but late that afternoon, “Yvonne, would you like to sit on the porch and watch the sunset?”

“Kevin, you don’t have to beat around the bush. I think what you’re really saying is, ‘Yvonne, would you like to sit on the porch, naked, with your legs spread, with a glass of wine, watching the sunset while I get on my knees and eat your pussy?’ Is that what you meant?”

“Well...“

She put her arms around my neck, “Tell me that’s what you meant.”

“Yvonne, I’d love for you to sit on the porch, naked, with your legs spread, with a glass of wine, watching the sunset while I get on my knees and eat your sweet pussy.”

She was starting to walk toward the porch and unbuttoning her blouse. “Kevin, I’m wet just thinking of what your tongue’s going to do to me. Whenever you’re in the mood, and I hope you’re in the mood a lot, if you talk to me just like that, my pussy is all yours.”

Blouse, bra, shorts, panties were strewn on the floor like Hansel and Gretel’s breadcrumbs. “You need to get undressed, too. Do you know what a thrill it is for a woman my age to know that my pussy still turns on a young boy’s cock?”

With the promise of Yvonne’s pussy, I wasn’t offended that she called me a young boy. I mean I was twenty-three, and she was probably forty-five.

“That’s it, just like that. Oh yeah, you eat me so good. Now a little higher. Right there, you know where Yvonne’s pussy likes it. That’s my good boy.”

After her second orgasm, “Kevin, would you get me some more wine?”

When I came back, “you know I didn’t really need more wine, I just like to look at your cock after you’ve eaten me.” She smiled as she stared at my stiff cock. My cock that her mouth had pleased this morning in a way I’d never dreamed of, and promised to please again. But first...

“Yvonne, I want to keep eating your pussy.”

“That’s my good boy.”