Licking Victoria

Far and away the most significant part of losing--or perhaps I should say giving--my virginity to Victoria was not fucking a woman for the first time, but going down on a woman for the first time.

And the most significant part of going down on a woman for the first time was making her cum.

To be clear, I'm talking about the sense of power that comes from controlling a partner's sexual pleasure--in particular their sexual pleasure culminating in an orgasm--although when you do it once, and for the first time, it's nothing more than a sense of accomplishment; that sense of power can only derive from a repeated and consistent ability to bring a partner to climax. I eventually discovered this power, first with Victoria, and later with other women.

But the first time, when I was in the middle of giving my virginity and had almost no idea of what I was doing, I was simply happy to get through it and get the job done. Th.at night, it was only about the accomplishment

In retrospect, it doesn't seem like much of an accomplishment, but at the time, it seemed huge. I had just slid my fingers into her panties when she started whispering advice and guidance. It was then that I realised there was a big difference between fumbling around between a woman's thighs and labia, and fingering them pleasurably; and as the minutes wore on, I realised that difference involved an almost perfect combination of many factors: pressure, motion, speed and so forth. So it didn't surprise me when she eventually gave up and redirected me: "That feels nice, but what I really want is your mouth."

Then again, that wasn't exactly comforting. While I admit I had no experience pleasuring a woman with my fingers, I also had no experience pleasuring a woman with my mouth. A few years before, my parents had told me that when I was about six, they had caught the slightly older neighbour girls "playing doctor" with me in the backyard, and it apparently involved them--the patients--forcing me--the doctor--to treat some imaginary, undiagnosed medical condition between their legs by "kissing it to make it better." But I had no actual recollection of this, and even if I had, it surely would not have been adequate preparation for what Victoria wanted.

I knew to kiss my way down until I felt the soft lace of her panties against my lips, and felt her thighs part more than they had before. But at that point, I had to stall, continuing to kiss her hairy mons through her panties while stroking her thighs. Knowing I would quickly run out of time, but not knowing what to do next, I took a chance: I stopped kissing and looked at her until our eyes met, and said, "Tell me what to do." And she did. She told me exactly what she wanted, and exactly how to give that to her, and I did exactly what I was told. And after about 15 minutes she came. Hard.

The intensity of her orgasm shocked and aroused me simultaneously. I had stroked one out enough times to understand the pleasure of an orgasm, but Victoria's reaction was a different story altogether: she started concentrating intently, her breathing deepened, her muscles strained, she pulled me mouth hard against her vulva, her back arched, her hips rotated, her legs wrapped tightly around me...and then she convulsed and cried out as she came.

And I thought: I did that. I made her body react like that. I made her cry out. I made her cum. I made her feel that intensely good.

I made her feel in-fucking-tensely good.

And I loved it. I loved everything about it. I loved the smell and the taste and the texture of going down on a woman; I loved the way it made her feel, both as her sexual pleasure built as well as when she eventually orgasmed; I loved the way a woman's body reacts to an orgasm, physically, verbally, emotionally and so forth; and I loved how it made me feel afterward when she lay there trying to catch her breath.

I did that.

And I learned that not from fucking Victoria, but from licking Victoria.