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Like most boys I began to amass my knowledge of sex and women at an early age. . .perhaps nine or ten years old. The knowledge was often inaccurate and misleading but it was all I had. When I became a teenager I had learned my knowledge of sex from the streets. It all seemed so simple at first; I simply must find a girl that would agree and we’d go to some private location and I put my cock in her ans something wonderful would happen as I advanced into manhood. Perhaps that was the reason I completed high school a virgin.
Then, about half way through high school, I began to wonder what was missing from my knowledge. . . Many of the guys claimed to have ‘scored’ with the girls and obviously some of the stories were accurate. Then, hoping to improve my own technique, I checked out those guys who had been making it with girls to see what they possessed that I didn’t. They were of various ethnic backgrounds. Some were fine examples of masculinity but just as many seemed to be wimps. Some were steadfast and loyal while others were not. So, I wondered.
In my own self-analysis, I counted my assets. I was an athlete, good looking, lived a good upstanding life, dressed well and made good grades. . . My parents and my teachers constantly encouraged me - telling me what a fine young man I was becoming I seemed to know otherwise. I had few friends, all boys! Girls seemed to avoid me! I felt dirty and immoral as I often thought of bedding one of the girls in my class. Of course, this was the side of my person that parents and teachers didn’t see.
Then, as I was serving my enlistment in the army, I saw men getting laid regularly. . .men who were barely above the animal level! Others, seemed to be finding suitable females to keep them satisfied! Only me that lay around the barracks!
Hell! I was half a world away from home and nobody’d know me. The whore houses were legal around the base and the women might just hold the answer. Perhaps if I could get some experience. . . It was then that the plan began to form. I determine a suitable date and time.
Then, on this Friday night, I walked down the Reeperbahn towards the well marked red-light district deep in thought. As I approached the entrance to the district, I felt the dry, acid taste in my mouth and my body trembling.
Then, I saw them - women in their cribs, lighted up and offering themselves as I passed. Many were Asian, small and eager. Others were statuesque and beautiful. All came with a price. . . a price I was ready to pay! Still, it didn’t seem right! I wandered about for a while surveying the merchandise and trying to choose. Then, after hours of looking, just as I was considering giving up the whole idea, a crib popped open and her curtains were flung wide.
The young, dark haired woman in the crib might have been the girl next door at home or a high school classmate. Suddenly, I felt the juices begin to flow and my body react - I turned towards her crib.
As I approached, the woman’s eyes met mine in an invitation to dray closer. “Are you available?” I asked. We talked for just a moment as she surveyed my mental and physical state. “Any drugs or alcohol?” she asked and I replied, None” She seemed to brighten as she said, “For you honey, It’ll be a hundred fifty Euros.” Then our eyes met and a contract had been negotiated. She motioned me to a door by the side of the crib.
As I entered the door, to be greeted by my soon to be lover, I felt my mouth parched and dry as my body trembled in excited anticipation. Suddenly I had the urge to pee and asked for the toiletien as my whore, Nicky, smiled and pointed to another door. When I returned, the shades were drawn and the curtains closed as a little electric heater spread heat around the small room.
Nicky sat clothed now in a heavy bathrobe over her more revealing garment as she explained that she’d just arrived and the room was too cold for our purposes so we could just talk for a while. In only a few minutes, Nicky was fully aware of my virgin status and promised to help me.
She asked if I had a girl friend and I answered, “ no. . .never have!” Do you know how to treat a lady?” she continued and I responded that I guessed not. As we talked, I began to relax and she moved over to sit beside me on the bed. “Have you ever kissed a woman? . . . a real woman, that is?”
Suddenly her lips were on mine and I felt all sorts of lusty wild emotions. I pushed back hard as my own emotions seemed to dictate and she stopped. . . “Easy big guy! Be sensitive, , ,Let’s try it again!” So for the next few minutes I learned to kiss. Then, I felt her tongue in my mouth and reacted carefully to feel the pleasure.
In a few minutes the room was warm and Nicky shed her bathrobe as she danced to show off her ample breasts and nice ass as she shed her flimsy costume. Then, she assisted me in getting my clothes off. Then nude together she embraced me and I felt woman flesh over me for the first time. Again, I moved to hold her in a strong grip and I felt her stiffen and freeze. “Easy,” she said.
Finally, I’d found a woman who was willing and all I had to do was stick my cock into her to feel that glorious feeling men had been talking about forever. Soon it was in her and the warm, damp feeling was certainly pleasure filled. Then, perhaps a minute later and it was over. Where was that glorious feeling? I felt only sad and cheated.
Of course, in looking back, I did learn a lot that night. Nicky had taught me to kiss and had advised me as I’d caressed her breasts and belly, etc. I found her twice more in the Reeperbahn and availed myself of her services. It was on the third visit that she taught me the rudiments of cunnilingus and the pleasure of fellatio. This time, it was quite late and she took my hand and said simply, “Come with me!” It was a short distance to her small studio apartment an d we talked as we walked. She said simply, it was late and she was tired and she wanted someone to sleep with.
Strange we slept together that night and experienced the while range of new experiences but she didn’t allow me to screw her. . . something about her professional rules.
Never saw Nicky again after that night. Not long after, my enlistment was up and I returned home to college. There, living in a college dormitory, I found myself billeted in the same building as twenty, or so female sailors from the nearby base who didn’t have quarters on the base. Of course, I was still the shy, awkward kid who still hadn’t approached a woman in any but a professional way and these women were popular with the older college students.
As the weeks passed, I made my feeble attempts to meet and seduce several of these women. Actually, I never got much past meeting them. . . they never knew I was attempting to bed them. Then, with rejection my only expectation, I simply ignored them - that is until Winona came along!
Winona, or Winnie as we called her, kept pretty much to herself and was obviously carrying a load of emotional baggage. While not beautiful in the sense of a runway model, she was more rounded and softer. Her other physical attributes were beautiful eyes and a creamy complection surrounded by navy regulation styled brown hair. She always dressed conservatively - while the other women wore shorts and skimpy blouses that turned men’s heads she wore denim jeans. The most prominent feature of her being was her state of near depression. She was sad.
Had I been more experienced, I would have taken note of her emotional baggage and avoided her like the plague but I was young, inexperienced and at dinner she talked to me. . .awkwardly talked about mundane things but as I made an effort to keep her engaged in conversation, I found her doing likewise. Within a week we had a developing friendship. Soon, we were visiting back and forth between our rooms. Tongues began to wag!
Another week and we were exchanging intimate thoughts and ideas. Still, she never told me anything about the big hurt she was feeling. I wondered but said nothing. Then, one day, I met one of her friends who stopped me and engaged me in conversation.
She reported that Winnie had been hurt bad in a nasty affair with a real jerk. She hoped I wasn’t pressing her for sex or anything. Then she said a strange thing, “Oh well, she’s probably safe with you. You guys are a lot alike.” As the words struck home I was hurt. . .she had seen right through me. She considered me harmless! Then, deep in my heart I knew she was right. So, I opted for friendship even though I wanted to press for more with every fiber of my being.
Winnie and I were soon close companions, friends doing things together. Knowing her delicate emotional balance, I tried to be sensitive to her needs and desires. Then, to give her pleasure, I tried to be the gallant. . .opening doors, seating her at dinner, etc. It seemed the more sensitive I became, the more she smiled and gave me pleasure. A few months passed and I’d have been happy to spend the rest of my life under those circumstances.
Meanwhile, around campus, people were quick to jump to conclusions on seeing us together and it was common gossip that we were sleeping together. It was a bit of gossip that Winnie preferred to allow as it kept the would be Lotharios away from her and it gave me a certain status.
It was a Sunday afternoon and we were lying on my bed reading. Winnie turned to me and spoke, “By now you know all about me. You know I’m unable to commit to any relationship now; yet, you keep coming back, never pressing me and adoring me. Why?” We talked. Then, she told me she wanted to sleep with me more than I’d ever know. She told me she wanted to love me and make me happy but she couldn’t do that. I protested and she remained firm. “Find yourself a nice girl and do right by her.” she said.
Winnie was around for couple of more weeks but our relationship was over. S avoided me and then she was transferred. Finally, I’d seduced a woman and before we could consummate the relationship she was gone. Life had thrown me another curve.
Somehow, I wasn’t hurt as deeply as I might have been by Winnie’s going. I had loved her knowing that it was hopeless and she had left me with much insight. Still, I had developed deep feelings for her. . . feelings I’ll cherish forever.
Within two weeks of Winnie’s departure, college girls were making friendly gestures and the Navy girls seemed to seek out positions next to me at dinner. Apparently, my relationship with Winnie hadn’t gone unnoticed.
When Winnie’s good friend [the one who had advised me of Winnie’s problems] happened to be sitting next to me in the lounge one afternoon we talked. She told me that Winnie was situated at a new base and seemed happy she said another strange thing. “You’re hot! You know that! I once took you for a wuss and now I wonder how I could have been so wrong! Let’s go into town and I’ll buy the drinks.” I considered the offer before declining and going to study in my room.
After that, there were a succession of women. . .might be lovers! I began to develop my technique of flirting and found it fun and interesting. I flirted with nearly every woman I met. Old or young, beautiful or not so, interesting or dull. . .all women received my attention.
With most cases it started when I became aware of the woman in my presence. I might admire her physical features from across the room or elsewhere from a distance. Eventually, she would become aware of my gaze and respond. In most cases she would draw closer and we would speak. In seconds I knew whether I wanted to pursue the relationship further or not. If not, or if the lady chose to drop it, our meeting was over and no harm done.
On the other hand, if she seemed interested and I was interested, we might continue to talk or carry the relationship further. Again, there were limits. Women, like men flirt for a number of reasons.
Eventually, I met Sandy. . .a nice looking, intelligent lady with a ready smile and trying to complete college as I was. . .on very little money! Sandy could have had dates with a lot of guys but I noticed that she seemed to prefer the activities at the dorm. On first meeting her I began eyeing her covertly and she responded by coming on to me. More conversation and I was interested. . .Her eyes and body language told me she was also interested. . .
Sandy was soon a close friend. As we became closer I began to feel the need to touch her. . .to caress her hands or arms or perhaps her neck. Then, I felt the need to kiss her. You know the rest. . .
It was the second week of our relationship when she suggested that her room mate would be gone for the weekend and I should come to her. Sandy wasn’t a virgin, although she might have passed for one. She was an expert at love making - the best I’ve ever experienced.
We finished college as lovers; then married soon after graduation. We were soon embarked on our chosen professions and our life together was perfect as we bought our dream home and furnished it together. It could be said that we had only one episode to our love making as we were constantly titillating and adoring each other and one sessions had started before the previous one had been completed. Sandy was hot. . .
Then, it happened. The sudden, unexplained loss of appetite, the dizziness, the diminishing of physical stamina and a score of seemly unrelated things that the doctors couldn’t explain. After lengthy testing and examination they determined the cause of her malady but by then it was too late!
As she died in my arms, I cursed the God that would do such a cruel thing. I wanted to engage him and do violence to him. I wanted to bring Sandy back. . . I was left with only my own depression. . .
Of course, being young, I soon found the resilience to fight back - to get my life back and I found myself just over thirty years old and full of vigor. There were other women and I found myself looking. It was a lucrative field of women, many newly divorced, and a number of professional women who had suddenly realized that their biological clock was running down. Desperation was apparent in many.
Monica was one of the field but not yet so desperate as she approached thirty. I met her quite by accident when I knocked food off her table as I passed a sidewalk café. It was totally unintended, an accident and turned to rectify the mess I’d made. As I cleaned and reordered her food, I observed her and found her interesting but she seemed to offer no interest on her part. I paid the bill and left.
Several days later, I was seated in the same sidewalk café when I observed a hand reach out to a tray of food and move it to the very edge of the table. I looked up and Monica was smiling. “Am I invited for lunch or do I have to spill this food to get your attention?” she asked.
Now, fifty four years later, I am alone again. Monica and I had married as soon as her divorce from an abusive husband became final and she was free to do so. Monica was a patient, kind, sensitive lover; lacking in self confidence and deeply scarred by the abusive events with her first husband. In our thirties, when we started our family, our passions had been muted by the earlier events in our lives. . .
Still, Monica had been good for me. I adored her at every opportunity. We were buddies and intimate friends as we faced the travails of our life together. We had made physical love at every opportunity during those years and I always reveled in seeing and touching her body. We truly adored each other. We successfully raised five children and sent them on their way. Life had been good.
Unfortunately, Monica has passed on now. It was her heart, the doctors said. Now, I have only my memories, Good memories of the women in my life and of the valuable lessons that they taught a bumbling, foolish young man! I thank each of them. I think often of the pleasure they have given me and for being patient with me.
I have been truly blessed.
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