Sexy Girl - Alice and the Story of Lost Virginity
By Louise Lovette
Copyright 2012 Louise Lovette
Smashwords Edition
It takes balls to hit on a pharmacy cashier who's ringing up the condoms you're buying to fuck someone else. Peter had no shortage of balls. Alice was blonde, cute, nineteen, a student and new to town. Peter chatted her up while he laid out the cash for a box of twenty-four Magnum condoms and offered to show her around. He left with five ninety-five in change, a box of condoms clearly intended for a fuck session with someone else, and her phone number.
Several days later, Peter got to thinking about Alice. She looked hot for nineteen, and he thought it might be fun to see if she was up to some action. He pulled her cell--phone number out of his wallet and dialed it. She was working, but only until 4:30. He asked if he could take her out to dinner; she agreed and told him to come over around 6:00. He pulled up in her driveway on his motorcycle at 5:45, and waited. He'd worn a light jacket and the jeans that best displayed his package. He saw the curtains part; she looked out the window and realized he'd arrived. She lingered a bit longer than proper, so Peter knew that she'd taken the time to scope his crotch.
She waved, he waved back, and she motioned him to wait. A minute later, she came out of the house. He placed her on the bike and they sped off to a restaurant. She was shy at first, nervous. It turns out that she had not been on too many dates, three, in fact, and she was completely intimidated by having an extremely attractive twenty-six-year-old guy like Peter hit on her. She never said it, she didn't really have to, but Peter quickly realized that she was a virgin. They talked a while, he kept it simple, asking her about her studies and where she came from. At the end of dinner, he suggested hanging out at a little coffee bar. He put her on the cycle, but this time, sat behind her. Her pert, tight ass ground into his crotch as he squeezed her between his thighs.
After an hour and a half at the coffee bar, talking and laughing, he said it was late and offered to take her home. She was reluctant to end the evening, and he told her he was, too. "I can take you home, Alice. You tell me whether you want that to be your house, or mine." He smiled, stood up, and held out his hand to her. She took it, and he helped her to her feet. They walked out, headed for his bike. She paused as they got close. She stared at the big, powerful cycle, and the very masculine rider, and paused.
He sensed her hesitation. "Cold feet?" he asked.
"A little."
He stepped close to her. Closer. Put his arms on her shoulders. He drew her in, turned her head to one side and gently placed his lips to hers. As he kissed her, he slid his hands down to her waist, holding her close and feeling the heat from her body. She melted into his kiss, his arms, and his body. He broke the kiss gently.
"Mine, or yours?" he asked.
"Yours," she said.
He guided her to the cycle, helped her mount it, mounted behind her, kicked it to life and tore off in the direction of the house. When they reached the house, he helped her dismount and, taking her hand, led her to the front door. They kissed again under the porch light as he unlocked the door. He stepped inside, turned and held out his hand.
She knew that if she took his hand and went inside, it would change her life forever. She took a deep breath and stepped into the house. The door closed behind her.
He told her that he would do nothing she didn't want to do, offering her a drink. She first thought of beer, but switched to wine. Somehow it seemed a little less tawdry to lose her virginity after sipping a glass of wine than after swigging a bottle.
They talked a while on the couch. She relaxed some more, but was clearly still nervous. After about half an hour, he moved closer, leaned in and kissed her. And again. She kissed back, timidly at first, but with growing confidence. This was good. She was rubbing his chest through his shirt when he said she could take off his shirt. She carefully opened the buttons and slid it over his head. He slowly opened the buttons of her blouse and separated the folds of fabric. She was wearing a red brassiere, matching her blouse. It was his favorite colour, and he told her so. Her cheeks quickly matched it.
He told her he assumed this was her first time, and she nodded. He kissed her and asked whether she'd done that before; she laughed and told him she wasn't quite that naive. He began to touch and caress her, nibbling her ear, and then her neck. He touched her stomach, her thighs, and finally cupped her very ample breasts. Each time he asked whether he'd reached her frontier. When he kissed one nipple while firmly stimulating the other with his fingers, she whispered "It's pretty much all new to me."
"Alice…you've never had a guy go down on you?"
"Uh-uh." She had a look of exaggerated, silly disappointment on her face.
"Oh, are we ever gonna fix that..."
He stood up and took her hand. She followed him up from the couch. He drew her close, their bare chests pressed together. He kissed her, softly at first, then more firmly, then aggressively. She gave back as much as he put into it. Peter felt a twitch in his jeans as his cock aroused and began to stiffen. He didn't want her to feel it yet, so he pulled back and led her from the living room to the bedroom.
"Wait here." He went into the bedroom and came out after about a minute. He looked at her expectantly. "Ready?"