Do you remember the first time? Part 1
Before we begin, let me just say, I am not one of those people that chases virgins, thinking it’s some great achievement to pop someone’s cherry. I’d much rather be with experienced women who know what their doing and can get you feeling things in places you didn’t know existed. However, this is an experience I had working in Bangladesh in 2015.
Everything in this story is true, but I have changed her name.
On the first day of my new job, this woman nervously walks into my office to introduce herself. She tells me it is the first time she’s ever worked with a foreigner and she wants to learn as much as possible from me while she has the chance. She’s fair-skinned, with jet black hair, and she’s wearing a white dress. I know exactly who she is because I’d been checking the file of everyone. Her name is Sonya, 23 years old and Hindu.
Sonya smiles, asks if it's okay to leave, and nearly walks into the door as she does so. It is adorable and as she makes her way out of the office, I sit back realizing that there may be trouble ahead.
Fast forward two months, I’m working from home because of sprained my ankle. Sonya messages me on WhatsApp and asks me how I am. I tell her the ankle hurts a lot and I have no painkillers because I don’t want to go to the local pharmacy by myself. I don’t know the language, and every time I leave the house to go to the shops I get swarmed by beggars.
An hour later the doorbell rings. It’s Sonya with a bag from the pharmacy. Had I known she was coming, I would have made myself look more presentable. I invite her into my apartment.
At this point, I’m still waiting for work to furnish the place so all I have is a mattress on the floor covered in a red blanket, my laptop perched on a box with the wifi router blinking away in the corner. Thankfully, there is an air conditioner so I’m not drenched in sweat.
I invite Sonya to sit on the mattress. She does and I sit down next to her. She points at my swollen ankle and tells me I should see a doctor.
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “A couple of days and it will be fine.”
“Do you want it massaged?” she says, and I can tell from the look on her face that even she is surprised by the words that just came out.
“If you want to,” I reply. “But you don’t have to.”
Sonya nods and adjusts her position to place my foot in her lap. She has these delicate-looking fingers that start massaging my ankle gently. Now and then she looks up to get an acknowledgement that what she is doing is okay.
My mind is now going through all the potential scenarios after this foot massage. It’s a big risk for an unmarried woman to come to the apartment of an unmarried man by themselves – it’s just not done in Bangladesh. She would have been seen, but she was prepared to take the risk of people gossiping. She could have just given the medicine and gone, but instead, she came in. Not only that, she’s on my bed giving me a massage. All the signs are that she wants something to happen here, she just needs a signal from me.
I touch Sonya’s hand to stop the massage, but allow my hand to stay in hers as I do so. First signal, but Sonya looks unsure what it might mean.
Time to go direct.
I stroke some of that jet-black hair away from Sonya’s eyes and say, “I really want to kiss you right now.”
Slowly I lean in.
“I have a boyfriend,” whispers Sonya. I hold position, lips almost touching, but not going all the way in. If she wants this she has to commit.
Sonya leans in. It’s a gentle kiss, uncertain at first. She’s breathing heavily. She pulls away and looks at me for a few seconds, then our lips meet again. This time it’s passionate, her tongue darts into my mouth. She comes to sit in my lap without our lips parting, her hands all over my torso.
Eventually, Sonya needs to breathe. We both sit there panting, getting our breath back. Sonya’s chest heaves as she gasps in the air. I notice she is wearing a button-up blouse. One by one, I slowly undo the buttons, looking her in the eyes as I do so. Once all buttons are undone, I slide the blouse off her arms and Sonya starts kissing me again. I lie flat on the bed, with Sonya straddling me as I kiss her. My hand slips to the back of her bra, and I undo it.
Unmarried Bangladeshi women are told to wear bras that are far too small for them so that it flattens their chest and they don’t become a temptation to pious men. With the bra undone, Sonya’s breasts tumble out and I can’t resist taking turns on those brown nipples, sucking and licking while Sonya moans.
I flip Sonya over. Now I am on top. I kiss her neck, her breasts, her stomach and work my way down to the waist of her jeans. I hook my thumbs under her jeans and then look at Sonya for confirmation that it’s okay. At that first kiss, I’m not sure even I considered things going this far, but we’ve got some momentum built, so it may as well be all in.
Sonya nods and within a second she is lying there completely naked on my bed her right hand lingering between her legs as if she’s trying to hide a secret. I slowly move that hand to reveal that Sonya is fully shaven and has one of the most beautiful pussies I have ever seen. It’s perfect.
I kiss Sonya again. Lips, neck, breasts, belly, left leg, right leg. Next, I lay flat on the bed between Sonya’s legs, face to face with that incredible vagina. I take hold of both Sonya’s hands before kissing her in between her thighs. She tastes incredible. Her hands almost immediately clasp mine as if electricity has gone through her body. Then as I slowly like her with a flat tongue, her thighs tighten around my head.
“Stop. It’s too much she says. It feels too good. I can’t control.”
I stop and lie down next to her. We look at each other.
“What was that?” she asks. “I didn’t know someone could do that down there like that.”
“Would you like me to do it again?”
Sonya nods.
“This time, I’m not going to stop,” I tell her. “Just let yourself lose control. Trust me.”
I went back down, kissing, licking, sucking and waiting for that moment where Sonya’s whole body shuddered and she couldn’t stifle her moans anymore. When that moment arrived, with her hands on my head, she gripped my hair and I thought for sure she would rip it all out so lost was she in the moment. Then her entire body relaxed, and as I met her eye to eye once again it seemed like she was lost in a dreamland.
The next day Sonya came back again in the afternoon, and her clothes were scattered near the front door, with her completely naked before she got anywhere near the bed.
We kissed like we hadn’t seen each other for years.
The previous day, somehow I’d remained fully clothed, so I’d made sure to minimize the number of clothes I was wearing. Two items – shirts and shorts. I sat up and took the shirt off myself.
Despite being completely naked in the room, and having had my tongue inside her the afternoon before, a shyness crept over Sonya as she observed my semi-nakedness.
Like she hadn’t expected it.
Sonya glanced down at my shorts, at the obvious erection.
