New Year’s Eve, 1970. A young couple came to Cincinnati’s Mt. Adams, the “hip” place to live in the Queen City. After a whirlwind romance, they were “engaged;” in what, they weren’t quite sure but they did know sex was on the docket.

He had wangled the second-floor apartment of an old roommate. The two had a nice meal in Cincy, and, at about 8 pm, they went to the place. He had to have her home by 12:30 am. He was twenty-one and had led a sheltered life; she was eighteen and was bold.

“Will it bother you if I’m not a virgin?” she had asked him one night as they were making out. He replied, “Will it bother you if I am?” She chuckled and stuck her tongue down his throat. He figured that meant she didn’t care.

She was the most beautiful girl he’d dated. About five-foot, seven, long, lustrous brown hair that she ironed in the style of the time. Slender; long, gorgeous legs; small breasts but he found they had large and very sensitive nipples and a neatly trimmed bush. Gorgeous big blue eyes and a smile that surpassed the brilliance of the sun.

To make life easier, she had not worn a bra and only the skimpiest pants she owned – a real bikini bottom plus loose trousers that were easy to get to. She looked incredible both dressed and undressed. He considered himself the luckiest guy on earth.

They came together, passionately clutching, grasping, groping, kissing, fondling. They made their way to the bed and fell on it.

He carefully removed her blouse and paid attention to her breasts with his mouth and beard. The sensations caused by his beard were new to her and very pleasant. She told him to rub his beard on her chest. He did and she sighed deeply.

She reached for his shirt but instead of opening it, she changed her mind, told him to do it, and went to his pants. First, she unbuckled his belt, then pulled down his zip. His tighty-whities were already soaked with his pre-cum. She fondled him through his pants and purred appreciatively. “I can see you’re more than ready. I’d like to eat your dick.”

He looked at her and said, “and I’d like to eat your pussy. How ‘bout we cooperate?”

He turned around so his cock dangled above her lips. Then, he reached down and slipped his hand into her pants, feeling the dampness and waiting for the moment he could taste her.

He removed her bikini bottom and spread her legs. She gasped at his boldness and whispered to him, “Eat me. I love when I’m eaten.”

He’d never eaten a woman before, not really. A few licks on a former girlfriend but nothing too serious. He was now presented with the most beautiful bush ever that barely covered her puffy lips.

He found her hole with his tongue and moved it around and up and down. She moaned. He was doing this purely by instinct. He knew she had a clitoris and he knew, from what he’d read, it was sensitive. But how sensitive? He knew he had to find out.

He discovered her bud as if it was meant to be. He brushed his tongue across it and she gasped. He gathered that he wouldn’t want to concentrate on it right away. Rather, build tension by concentrating on her vagina and labia.

All this time, she was taking the head of his penis deep into her mouth and it was a feeling so incredible, he could barely contain his excitement.

He had read someplace to write the alphabet over her vagina/labia with his tongue. He did so and by the time he reached “H,” she was writhing and calling out around his cock, “fuck me, dammit. Just stick your dick in me and fuck me.”

He knew instinctively he would last about ten seconds inside her. He recalled all the supposed ways to delay ejaculation. He chose the Reds lineup in their NL championship year, 1961.

Gordy Coleman at first; Leo Cardenas at second; Gene Freese at third; Gus Bell or Wally Post in left field; Vada Pinson in the center; Frank Robinson in right; Johnny Edwards, catcher. Pitchers: Jim Brosnan; Bill Henry; Jay Hook; Joey Jay; Jim Maloney; Jim O’Toole; Claude Osteen; Bob Purkey.

It didn’t help. All too soon, he felt his cock spurt out his cum into the condom. It was a load.

She masked any disappointment. She’d been working up to an orgasm, starting with his tongue work, but hadn’t quite gotten there.

He knew he would recover quickly and within 15 minutes, he was hard as a rock again. The two played with each other and worked up some electricity during that time. He was gushing pre-cum; her pussy was disgorging a river..

He felt little resistance as he plunged his cock into her and pumped away, lowering his head to take her taut nipples into his mouth. This time, he lasted more than ten minutes and managed to give her a massive orgasm that nearly took him over the edge. But he was not ready to stop fucking this vision of loveliness. He became a pistoning maniac and pounded her, all the while she moaned and writhed and voiced her pleasure. It was magic.

And too soon, it was over. They cuddled for a few minutes until it was time to go. They had 60 miles to go to get her home. They dressed slowly, taking time to fondle each other.

On the way home, she cuddled up to him (as much as possible in a Mustang) and played with his recurring erection. When they pulled into her driveway, they kissed passionately and as a last gesture, she pulled down his zipper, reached in for his cock, and sucked it just as passionately. She was rewarded with a healthy dose of protein. He drove home in a daze. And slept the sleep of the righteous.

That was not only the first time, it was the only time for the couple. He had been drafted into the Army – the reason they had gotten together in the first place – and when he came home on a three-day pass, he drove like a madman to her college dorm. There, she explained she had fallen in love with her photography lecturer and that the engagement was off. At least she didn’t send him a “Dear John” letter.

He drove home dejected, crushed. But he still had that first time to remember fondly. And he does to this day.