A bit of fiction for Misia
Losing my virginity was a long and drawn out process. Historians disagree on the exact date, giving different ones as far as three years apart, depending on what they define as virginity. I'd been engaging in random acts of cunnilingus for several years before I took the not particularly metaphorical plunge between the petals, and even then, it took forever to get it right.
I suspect I decided to lose what little vestiges I had left when Melody was in the hospital. I'd been seeing her for a few weeks when she went in for an asthma attack, and it was about the time I was engaging in one of the aforementioned random acts there that I made this decision. I'm not sure if it was the thrill of getting her off with the door open, the respiratory therapy mask masking her moans from her roommate, or if I was just being affected by the medicine she tasted of, but sure enough, when she got out a few days later, I was primed for action.
So I went over to her apartment one evening, and told her what I'd been thinking about all week long. Sure enough, when things got hot and heavy that night, out came the condoms and I was thinking to myself, 'Well, here I go.' Only there was one small problem. Well, actually a rather large one, because I didn't fit. The condom, mind. We literally could not fit it around my cock.
Up to this point, she'd been as excited as I was, exclaiming to me, 'Oh Peter, I can't wait to have you fill me up,' in her sultry voice, but clearly things did not go quite as planned. Unfortunately, by this point it was rather late, and we were tired, so we continued as we always had in the past, and resolved to try again after a trip to the pharmacy.
Now you have to understand, in the past other people had told me that I was well endowed, but I always thought they were just trying to flatter me. I made the relatively reasonable assumption that I was of average size, and when I'd see other guys naked in, say, a locker room, I'd think to myself that they seemed a bit . . . skimpy. So when later that week I learned that Melody had among the narrowest condoms on the market, I had no real reason to change my mind, a purchased a regular sized package for the next time we met.
Sure enough, she came over the next weekend, and while I don't remember what we started out doing, by the time night had fallen we were once again in the throes of circumlocutious intimacy. I thought to myself that I had saved the evening with my purchase a few days before, and so once again we pulled out a condom, and lo and behold, after a bit of wrangling, it fit! I said to myself, 'no wonder people complain these are uncomfortable if they have to be so tight,' but never having worn one before, this didn't strike me as odd then either. Melody, I think, was a bit relieved that she wasn't going to end up frustrated, but as I took hold of my cock to place myself between her luscious thighs, the pressure was too much, and the condom broke in my hand.
'Fuck, Peter!' she cried in disappointment, but to no avail. The night was no longer so young, and the pharmacies were all closed, so again we had to content ourselves with our tongues before dropping off to sleep.
The next day, we resolved to get things right, so I ran out and bought the larger-sized prophylactics, and returned triumphant to the apartment, treasure in hand. Our desire from the night before had by no means diminished, so as I thought, 'third time's the charm,' we retreated to the bedroom where finally, like Prince Charming, Melody slipped on the condom and it fit, so I slowly slid inside her and savoured every moment of passion.
That evening, after a couple more romps to test that everything was in order, she said to me, in her low and sultry voice, 'Mmmm . . . I'm so sore. I feel like a virgin again!'
I suspect I decided to lose what little vestiges I had left when Melody was in the hospital. I'd been seeing her for a few weeks when she went in for an asthma attack, and it was about the time I was engaging in one of the aforementioned random acts there that I made this decision. I'm not sure if it was the thrill of getting her off with the door open, the respiratory therapy mask masking her moans from her roommate, or if I was just being affected by the medicine she tasted of, but sure enough, when she got out a few days later, I was primed for action.
So I went over to her apartment one evening, and told her what I'd been thinking about all week long. Sure enough, when things got hot and heavy that night, out came the condoms and I was thinking to myself, 'Well, here I go.' Only there was one small problem. Well, actually a rather large one, because I didn't fit. The condom, mind. We literally could not fit it around my cock.
Up to this point, she'd been as excited as I was, exclaiming to me, 'Oh Peter, I can't wait to have you fill me up,' in her sultry voice, but clearly things did not go quite as planned. Unfortunately, by this point it was rather late, and we were tired, so we continued as we always had in the past, and resolved to try again after a trip to the pharmacy.
Now you have to understand, in the past other people had told me that I was well endowed, but I always thought they were just trying to flatter me. I made the relatively reasonable assumption that I was of average size, and when I'd see other guys naked in, say, a locker room, I'd think to myself that they seemed a bit . . . skimpy. So when later that week I learned that Melody had among the narrowest condoms on the market, I had no real reason to change my mind, a purchased a regular sized package for the next time we met.
Sure enough, she came over the next weekend, and while I don't remember what we started out doing, by the time night had fallen we were once again in the throes of circumlocutious intimacy. I thought to myself that I had saved the evening with my purchase a few days before, and so once again we pulled out a condom, and lo and behold, after a bit of wrangling, it fit! I said to myself, 'no wonder people complain these are uncomfortable if they have to be so tight,' but never having worn one before, this didn't strike me as odd then either. Melody, I think, was a bit relieved that she wasn't going to end up frustrated, but as I took hold of my cock to place myself between her luscious thighs, the pressure was too much, and the condom broke in my hand.
'Fuck, Peter!' she cried in disappointment, but to no avail. The night was no longer so young, and the pharmacies were all closed, so again we had to content ourselves with our tongues before dropping off to sleep.
The next day, we resolved to get things right, so I ran out and bought the larger-sized prophylactics, and returned triumphant to the apartment, treasure in hand. Our desire from the night before had by no means diminished, so as I thought, 'third time's the charm,' we retreated to the bedroom where finally, like Prince Charming, Melody slipped on the condom and it fit, so I slowly slid inside her and savoured every moment of passion.
That evening, after a couple more romps to test that everything was in order, she said to me, in her low and sultry voice, 'Mmmm . . . I'm so sore. I feel like a virgin again!'