[FM] Secretly losing my [virginity] to my online lover | 2016

For context, I've always been quite shy with sex. I'm from a small city, and without wanting to sound conceited, I wasn't short of offers in high school. I had boys trying to bed me as if I were a prized virgin, but I hated that mentality. I think I always wanted it to be special, and it wouldn't be if I felt it was all for the brag. I'd seen the way they talked about the girls at school and I didn't want to be outed like that. Even my gay male friends would harass me about it - they couldn't understand why I would turn these attractive guys down, but I was waiting for something. I just didn't know what I was waiting for - until I met someone (who I'll call Tom) online, via a now defunct social media site where we'd all exchange photos. He was tattooed and British, and that was enough to make me weak. Moreso, he wanted me. He could write about it with such depth and experience that I never stood a chance. He told me about things he could do to my body that I'd never felt. As it eventuated, he had extended family in my small city, so after 9 months of relentless Skyping and growing to adore each other, he flew out to visit.

I’d just come back from a weekend away for our end of school celebrations; now that our final exams had finished, I could drink more than I ever had, and I still felt a little light headed as I walked him into the kitchen. He'd gotten in about a week earlier and we'd been inseparable before I left for the weekend - my girlfriends had rented us a small place out of the city to blow off steam - but this was the first time I’d seen him like this: alone.

It was my family home, huge modern design, open plan. He walked a little slower behind me as I guided him into the empty kitchen. No one was home, nor going to be. It was such a beautifully hot day that I hadn’t bothered wearing much. For descriptive sake: I'm 5"6, slim with curves, D cup breasts and a round ass worth holding. I have soft pale skin and long flowing strawberry blonde hair I had tussled over my shoulder, and just a short sundress to cope with the heat. I realised he’d stepped behind me to watch my ass bounce under the short skirt, so I felt the rush to work my hips a little more with every step.

I can’t remember the conversation; I’d missed him, I teased him with stories of the boys who’d try to kiss me and failed to win my body over.

Tom was already about to leave the country, I didn’t know if I’d see him again - I was starting university in Australia, he had a solid career in England. We felt the urgency. I looked into his piercing blue eyes - he wasn't much taller than me, but he had a strong build, incredible arms, and short dark hair that I'd spent months picturing running my hands through. By now we knew so much about each other, I knew exactly how to turn him on.

He was so competitive by nature, the thought of how many men had tried to win me had sparked something primal in him; he needed to show me what he'd been wanting to do. Within a breath, he'd grabbed my wrists and pulled me into his chest, lent into my neck and told me to follow him. His accent had me trembling, and I remember feeling so light headed with desire that he had to guide me upstairs to my bedroom himself (a route he'd later tell me he'd deliberately memorised).

He laid me down onto the bed and climbed on top of me, smirking as my face blushed a pale red. He loved how innocent I was, so flushed by the touch of his fingers tracing the length of my skirt, hitching it above my waist. I’d never felt a man touch me with such experience; expertise. He knew to softly tease the lace of my panties so achingly slowly, until I was impossibly wet. The whole sensation was like fire, it was agony, it was a lifetime. He loved watching me wither beneath him, holding his lips moments from mine to assert his control - he would not be kissing me until I begged him. He wouldn't touch me until I bed him. He knew that withholding would break my last defences.

When I moaned for him, he had this unforgettable smile. Wicked, honest smile. His fingers slid inside the fabric of my underwear and pulled them from me so quickly I couldn't catch my breath. His lips traced down the flowers of my dress, before finding my bare skin. He teased me for what felt like hours, kissing my thighs, tracing patterns on my hips with his tongue. He continued to stroke me; so gently I could barely feel it. My body was on fire. My hips were so instinctively grinding for his touch.

"I won't do anything unless you beg for it."

I couldn’t take my eyes off of how hard he was beneath the fabric of his jeans.

"Please," I could barely muster, as he followed my line of sight and smirked at me.

He unbuckled his belt, slowly undoing his zip with one hand as the other finally, finally entered me. His fingers pumped me with such confidence, a skill that robbed me of breath. I was moaning, louder than I’d ever known I could. Every touch was electric.

I submitted to his tongue. I panicked as the warmth rose in my body, my hips, my sex, my chest, my face. Everything flushed deep red as my orgasm was building, the first I’d ever felt from someone not myself. I could hardly breathe. He knew what he was doing to me; he smiled through sucking my clit deep into his mouth, his tongue working me with strength and rhythm as his fingers pumped me in a way I still hopelessly fantasise about.

He had me completely. I couldn’t wait; I’d already waited my life for this. I reached down and freed him from his shirt - he had an incredible chest piece tattoo, one I’d traced with my fingers before in gentle intimacy. But now, it was about his cock. I needed it, I wanted him. So I begged. I begged in a way I couldn’t imagine possible, as he finally kissed up my body, tearing down my dress and freeing my breasts. It was urgent for the both of us.

When he filled me, my body finally made sense. The way it ached at night with longing, the emptiness that took hold of me when I thought about him. I needed to be filled like this. He was gentle at first, so soft with me, until my moaning lowered and he felt me melt beneath his touch. He fucked me like he knew I'd needed. We found a rhythm together so easily, instinctively grinding my hips to meet his, longing to feel all of him. By that point we'd been so built up, I begged him to finish inside me. I wanted to feel his heat. I still remember how deeply he held himself inside me as he came.

He released this impossibly sexy laugh as our sweat covered bodies collapsed into each other; he couldn't believe I was that good for my first time. We slowly got dressed together and spent the day in an empty house, in and out of bed, exploring my body together.

He’s never forgotten me, we still talk time to time. He left back to the UK about a week later and took the secret with him - I hadn't told anyone I'd lost my virginity, so I was still as angelic as ever.