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Mary, My First

Posted by eGZact on January 18, 2008

It was summer time in Scotland and I stood comfortably surrounded by green hills in the distance and the dockyards. It was all new to me, an American lad on his first trip outside his homeland, my thoughts were all centered on the knot of fear that lay in my stomach; the fear of being alone in a foreign country, fear of the dangers that may lay about the dockyard, and fear of the unknown.

My older and more experienced friends from the ship had gone off a few blocks away to drink and make out with the local lassies as I was left behind. Since I didn’t drink much and since I was lacking in confidence and shy, I was left alone to face the unknown.

As I walked the streets up from the dockyard, I was careful to memorize my return route and check for whatever possible evil might befall a young lad, alone and scared as he walked the streets of a strange country. As I met people on the sidewalk, I greeted each of them.

“Good Day Yank,” usually came back in reply. It was a friendly greeting and did much to alleviate my fears. Soon I was in a residential neighborhood of modest, well kept houses with tiny yards and occasionally a car parked in front. As darkness approached, I sensed I’d find little of interest there.

At the next intersection I turned left and found myself pointed downhill towards the Clyde and a series of small shops and pubs lining the streets. It looked quiet enough.

As I walked, I passed one of the pubs. It was full of men and women socializing and having fun. Still, it didn’t seem like a place where I’d be comfortable. Then, as I walked, lost in thoughts, I heard a woman’s voice from beside me, “Hey Yank, yer kinda lost aint ya.”

I turned and faced a young woman, perhaps my age, not more than twenty, and replied, “I’m new here. Don’t know my way around. Sorry if I’m out of my area.” The girl answered, “No, that’s all right. It’s just that most Yanks stay down close to the waterfront where there’s more to their liking.” I replied that I didn’t want to go down to those places and that I sought something more to my liking.

Hearing this, the girl seemed to change her attitude and said, “I’m Mary and I live right there with my father and mother.” So I stopped to chat. Soon, I learned that she was had a steady relationship with a British sailor, a stoker, on a ship that had been deployed for several months. She spoke of it once; then, the conversation moved to other things.

We spoke for a couple hours, sharing laughter, sharing an underlying soul recognition of sorts that made the conversation flow. We shared heartfelt moments and filled those hours with what felt like a lifetime of intensity. The flirtation was heavy and as it became more intense we found ourselves staring into each other’s lustful eyes in a moment of quiet.

She awkwardly broke the silence and mentioned that a movie was showing in a nearby movie house and suggested I join her. The movie was dull and Mary’s and my attention soon turned to each other. First, I held her hand; then, my hand rested on the thigh and we kissed.

Soon we were breathing heavy and I placed my hand on her breasts. “Let’s go.” Mary said long before the movie was finished and we left the darkened theater with me following her at a swift pace.

Then, we were at a house and Mary opened the door where she bade me enter. Once inside, we were at each other like animals. It was a new and wild experience for me as I had only a few previous experiences. It was all I could do as we kissed and soul kissed and I fondled her breasts through her clothing.

“No lights,” she said as she led me to a narrow staircase and up to a small bedroom above. There, in the small bedroom, I went to remove Mary’s sweater and bra. I moved quickly with her help and was soon I was fondling, sucking and playing with her small, perfectly formed breasts. Clothes were falling to the side of the bed at a steady rate as we gained more access to each other.

“It’s been so long,” Mary said, “I’ve been so lonely” as she moved to grasp my cock. The hormones that drove her were also driving me. I was gripped by a passion so strong that I could no longer control it. With my fingers gently massaging her labia and slipping into her vagina, I felt her extreme wetness.

I massaged her clit and sensed the surge of passion, pulsing and engorged, as she cried, “Fuck me now!” I moved over her and we quickly adjusted to each other. “Do it hard, NOW!” she cried as I sent my hard cock into her depths. She groaned as we were fully united and moaned, “Oh yes, yes…”

Extremely aroused, I partially withdrew from her vagina and drove myself into her a second time only to be met with her counter thrust from beneath me. We fucked hard for only a few minutes before I felt my ejaculation explode into her. With each spurt, I felt the tensions spring from me.

We lay coupled in a sweet post coitus intimacy. Mary spoke, “If you’re still here tomorrow night, we could meet here again. The key is under the doormat.” My ship had several more days in port and Mary and I spent all of them together until our bitter sweet parting. We never saw one another again, but she has always been with me in my memories.

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