Where do we... begin...

I guess I should start at my moment of conception. This, however, may not be the moment you are thinking of...

I was, by all appearances, nearly 18 years old. Six foot one inches tall and all the body mass of a scrawny teenager that grew too fast and never gained the weight to go with it. Luckily, my face doesn't look like my neck threw it up (I feel sorry for you fuck ugly folks out there. Life is fucked up to you, no lie. A sense of humor combined with booze, however, can take you a long way...) and I'm possessed of something of a natural charm, so I managed. But back to the matter at hand...

It could be said that I've always been drawn to the bad side of things. For example I, grandson of the poster child of racist bastards, lost my virginity to the only black girl in a small, backwoods town not even big enough to merit it's own post office. That went over like a fart in church (The town did have a church. It was across from the town gas station). I quickly made friends with the worst each neighborhood had to offer. They always seemed to have the most fun...

But this brings us back to the story at hand. The aforementioned (gorgeous, perfect ass, big lips, perky tits, and could keep up with me, which turns out to be a hell of a thing) only black girl in town and I had been 'going steady' for a couple of months, but being a bit shy and gangly, I hadn't 'made my move.' I didn't have a move to make, to be honest. Clueless as to how to move from point A to B.

Now, the place where myself and the local version of the Dalton Gang hung out was actually a condemned double wide trailer. Now before you start the name calling and assumptions, the only reason it was a double wide was that what everybody stayed in after they bought their acreage, but before the real house was built. This particular trailer had suffered a tree fall during a storm, and although structurally just fine, the insurance company condemned it or something and it was 'unlivable.' As if. That became the flophouse for our little crew of miscreants. The rules for sleeping were pretty simple: Couples get couches, the rest sleep where you drop.

This brings us back to Carmen (yes, the town black girl had a hispanic name. Don't you know some of the yokal douche bags tried to make her life hell for that). Her and I are passed smooth out from the prior evening drinking, video gaming, smoking (let your mind wander), and such. For whatever reason, about 8am one of the two of us stirs and we both end up awake unnaturally early. This, of course, leads immediately to a heavy handed make out session with some serious second base. Then, and I'll NEVER forget this look as long as I live, she pushes me back a little to ask, "You wanna?" accompanied with the quick, mischievous raising of her eyebrows.

Even my rookie ass knew what was up at this point. Game time. My pants didn't so much come off as I morphed through them like a ghost through a wall in a B movie. As effectively as we could, we managed to get her cloths off under the covers without me showing the pale moon. One last check to make sure the room full of collapsed bodies are still sleeping off the nights intoxicants, and in I go.

Or somewhat. Wet or not, it took me a few strokes to work myself in. Into heaven that is. And then the moment of my birth...

I finally worked in to the hilt, all the way. She's biting her lip and digging her nails into my back just behind my shoulders (gangly or not, I've been blessed with a cock that should be featured in porn. Seven and a half inches and thick. Just enough to make you love me, not enough to kill you unless you're an asian woman that hasn't had kids yet). And just as I finally work as far as I can go, I stop. She looks up at me as if to say, "Don't fucking stop there."

And I smile. I am home. I am where I belong. The rest of the world, the rest of existence, time, space and other dimensions can kiss my ass. It all fades away and all I can think of is how incredible her hot, wet, tight pussy feels clinching around my shaft. I smile.

Then I cross my forearms under her back, hands locking onto her shoulders. She gasps a little as I pull out slowly almost to the tip. But it's the first full stroke back in that makes eyes roll back and the sweet sound of an unsuppressed 'uuungh' escapes her lips before she can bite back down on her lower lip again.

Now, I make no attempt to make any brags here. The beauty of anonymity is that you don't have to lie (not that I would, because I have balls and broad shoulders and can handle the messes I make) about shit. I don't have an identity I'm trying to brag up. However, being that I was 18 and still hadn't lost my virginity yet, it's almost a surety that I'd masturbated away eny nerve ending my cock ever possessed. Add to that the fact that I was packing chainsaw all day working in the logging woods, and you have the ingredients to make one in shape white boy that can last a while. And I did. That poor (blessed maybe) girl got all of the adolescent aggression I could hammer into her. Just under 18 years of haven't gotten laid yet was taken out on her in what can only be described as a turbo driven thrill hammer.

I lost track of anything not having to do with the most amazing feeling I had ever experienced. Her body was amazing, the product of mixed race parents, summers swimming, and the rest of the year riding horses (I think I remember her barrell racing or something...). And I was fucking her like it was going to be the last time. Eventually my hands moved down from her shoulders to under her ass to pull her hips up into mine. Finally, the old familiar stirring begins, warning of the arrival of that sweetest of lifes moments: O Town.

So we're clear, I haven't a shred of human though left at this point. There is no logic. There are no consequences. There is only the pending explosion as I drive into her harder and harder in the pre cum thrusts. And then it hits. The first stroke wasn't the mother load, but the second cumming stroke almost made my back break itself. Then another. And another. I think I pumped her full of cum from previous lives. I finally finish and collapse, but only for a second as life slowly starts to bleed into my mind.

Yes, you have ground your knees into the couch cushions for who knows how long. Yes, you are still in a room full of people. But no, there isn't any snoring...

Just as my eyes go wide, one of the sleeping members of the crew passed out on the floor sits up and looks straight at me. Every ounce of my timid, self conscious, shy being is screaming, "Please don't say anyth..."

Wrong. In a speaking voice well past "outside voice" but just under "singing the national anthem," he sounds off with, "About fucking time you finished. I've been laying here for two fucking hours." My eyes whipped to the clock, hoping to undermine his gripe. No such luck. 10:30am.

To my horror, the rest of the hung over zombies start to rise out of their laying state. Honestly, at that moment, I was wishing they were merely zombies intent on taking a bite out of me and ending the embarrassment that is sure to kill me dead where I lay. Instead, it was all of my friends coming to the sitting position to fire off the comments they had been forming and honing to perfection in the two hours of hammering they had politely not moved for.

I look back now and have to laugh. Even with a legacy left behind like that, I still didn't know what to do with it. Today, I would have capitalized on all of the other girls in the room that were so very friendly after that...

In closing, be careful who you launch a sea of baby makers into. Was she hot? Fuck yes. Was she crazy as all hell. Fuck yes more. Did I know that then? No. Did I quickly figure this out? What do you think? My first experience with sex was followed closely by a pregnancy scare the likes of which should have left me sterile just from the fear of being stuck with her for the rest of my life.

Until next time...