My First Time (A True Story)

By: Suzy Suburbanite

Well I guess I need to be part of the team and give all y'all my real deal first time with a woman.

Now don't get me wrong, I had all the same girlhood experiences most women my age had with stuff like "practice" kissing and the like. And yes, that did feel good--very, very good in some cases--but after all, that was innocent, childish, "girly" behavior.

But that first time, as a woman, with a woman, wow--I'll never forget it!

I, like so many others, began to first fantasize about, and then write about sex and sexy situations, as my marriage grew stale. This was in a time before the WWW existed and the internet was just a novel concept of some hardcore geeks for things like e-mail and "Gopher". Therefore, there was no log-on, find a fuck, log-off culture.

The "big" thing back then was BBSing, and the "big" home computers were 386 boxes with a 4MB hard drive, and 512K of RAM. Zooming fast, I know. So hubs and I had a home computer, why I still don't know, but we did. He never used it and by the time I got home from work, I hated being around the damn things, so I rarely used it.

Then one day, I hear two guys at work laughing about the Penthouse Guide to Cybersex, and the light bulb went "bing" above my head. So one day I come home with a modem, spend a week getting the damn thing setup, and then I dialed-in to a local adult BBS referenced by said Penthouse book.

Well girls, let me tell you--boring, argh! This was just plain stupid. But, I'd spent whatever ungodly amount I'd spent for that 1200 baud modem, and so I was determined to stick with it. So, I did.

Now I don't know about you, but having some anonymous jerk-off of a guy type things to you like, "I gonna bend you over a sawhorse and fuck your ass bloody," or, "yeah bitch, come to the bar meet on Friday and we'll rape you." I mean, c'mon! It was like talking to a bunch of junior high kiddies.

However, I kept at it, nonetheless. I even "met" some people that were just nice to correspond with--along with dodging the dickheads. We talked about kids, gardening, scuba diving, local traffic, work, but rarely ever sex. There was the occasional, "I really miss sex," comment from both the married men and women in the public areas, but none of the randy carryings on that I thought I'd signed up for.

I guess fuel for my fantasy journals (how I once wrote my stories...long hand...yikes!) would need to come from someplace else. Certainly, the BBS community, and yes it was a community back then, wasn't going to give me the satisfaction and inspiration I craved.

Then one night I'm chatting away and there are only three people in the "room". It was me, a guy, and another girl. If I remember, we were talking about the merits of Trinity Caves vs. Stingray City as dive sites on Grand Cayman, all of us being Scuba divers. I was rambling on, as I have tendency to do, about how I liked to lay on my back and let the rays swarm me. A veritable fishy orgy, if you will.

Then, instead of a response calling me some sort of beastie perv, the next line on the screen is, "Can we private?"

It wasn't from the guy; it was from the girl in the chat. Heck, I just figured she wanted to tell me that she does the same thing and didn't want to catch any of our male counterpart's shit.

"Sure. How do we do that?"

She setup the private chat, and within a few keystrokes, it was just her and me. Her screen name was MouseyPie, so I looked at the profile she'd registered. Nothing to unusual for the good old days...we were almost honest back then.

F-Married-29-blonde-brown--5'10"--166 Lbs...

To make a long story short, we chatted, in private, about life in general and such. That is until...

"So what are you wearing tonight?"

"??"

"Is it something sexy? I'm just in my black silk panties ;-)"

"You know I'm a woman?????"

"U don't cyber? :-( "

"But you're a woman"

"U never done it with a girl?"

"What? Sex????? NO!"

"hehehehe...its fun U should try"

":-("

"sheesh...just try you might like it"

"I don't think so Mouse but thanks for asking"

And that, my friends, was that. I didn't even log off; I just disconnected and went straight to bed.

I hadn't thought of sex with women since college, and even then, those thoughts were just an idle curiosity based on what was widely thought to be taking place in the dorm between certain roommates. Now please don't get me wrong, I wasn't truly a homophobe, but just blissfully hetero. So in truth, the thought never really crossed my mind. Not until MouseyPie mentioned how much fun it was with girls did I ever give sex with another woman consideration.

Well, guess what? Me thinks me thinks too much, because within a couple weeks I was logging on to the BBS wearing nothing but a bath robe and my very own black silk panties. I was hoping that I would catch MouseyPie online so that I could ask her to show me how much fun "it" could be with a girl.

Show me she did. That first time was awkward and unsatisfying for the both of us. Soon enough though, we started to have fun. It was strange trying to picture her body and where I would touch, or could touch, and how that translated to her stimulation.

"Mouse, do you touch yourself in the same places I describe?"

"Yessssss"

"What about kisses? Ur neck, eyelids, inner thighs?"

"I just use my fingertips for kisses ;-)"

"Ok...I get it"

After a couple months, this became our routine, a completely unique form of sex that was both safe and, eventually, satisfying. So much so, that I asked MouseyPie if she'd like to go to one of the bar meets the BBS sponsored as a safe way to meet. She said yes, that she'd love meeting me!

The following Friday I told hubby that I was having a girls' nights out, and not to expect me home until late. He was ok with that, even going as far as telling me that I "needed" more fun. If he only knew what fun I was thinking about, he may not have been so eager to see his wife getting into that taxicab.

I was on pins and needles as I walked into that bar where Lance and Ladyhawk (yes the same Lance from cum2oasis.com--he was much less the pimp back then) were hosting their monthly bar meet for BBS members. Boys outnumbered girls by at least 3-to-1 in the small, cloistered group from the BBS. As nervous as I was, I just decided to sit at the bar-not introducing myself to the larger BBS crowd--and wait for MouseyPie to arrive; a white rose pinned to her blouse, as we had agreed.

She never showed. After two hours of nursing a couple cocktails, I quietly asked Ladyhawk (I recognized her from her pictures on the BBS) if she had seen MouseyPie. Ladyhawk was a bit confused as she didn't know me from Adam, but soon enough we were chatting away through three rounds of drinks. She was really very nice, but every time I looked her in the eye, all I saw was the vision of her with a dick in her mouth, like the pictures Lance posted on the BBS.

Then she had an epiphany, "Oh, I know you, you're ScubaLady. Have you met Scotty and Susan yet?"

I know she was trying to be nice, make me comfortable and all, but as I followed the line from her pointing finger, I about choked on my martini as my eyes came to rest on two people that I'd know for years. Well, chicken-shit me, I all but ran out of the bar, not wanting anybody I knew to see me waiting to meet my first lesbi fuck.

"Where were you?" I demanded of MouseyPie the next time we were online together, "I was there, and U stood me up"

"Im sorry couldn't get out of the house"

"U could've told me that might happen!!!!!!!"

"sorry"

I took her for her word, understanding that not all husbands are keen to see their wife go gallivanting into the night. So we cybered again--and again--and again over the next few weeks, until I made a new suggestion to meet...

"Do you want to have lunch tomorrow?" I asked out of the blue, knowing from our chats that we worked in close proximity.

"Sure! Where?"

"How about that Irish place at the corner of X and Y street?"

"You devil...there's a no-tell motel right next door :-D"

"Maybe but lunch first"

"Lunch after?"

"First"

"Ok. How will I know U?"

"I'll wear a sign that says IM GOING TO EAT PUSSY TODAY"

"LMAO"

"Just ask the hostess for ScubaLady"

"Ok"

"Around 1145?"

"Ok"

"I'm nervous...U?"

":-)"

There it was then; I was going to do the deed. Well, that's what I was prepared to do- the deed. Me, a devoutly heterosexual, mostly church-going woman, was about to meet a woman I'd carried on with online for months with my ultimate intention of going down on her.

'Fuck me,' I thought as I logged-off from the mutual diddle session, 'you are such a fucking slut!'

Now don't get me wrong-I was all "ready, set, go" for a bit of bi-sex. But for real! There I was a mother of a six and two year-old about to venture out the next day to eat some stranger's cunt. Damn, but was I fucked, or what.

That whole morning at work, I just squirmed in my seat. My mind was replaying all of the rather graphic and crude cyber sessions typed-out between MouseyPie and me.

"My tongue is tickling your asshole now," she would type across the screen.

"Nobody has ever done the to me before," I typed back; my eyes closed; my mind awash with pained pleasure as I thought about this mom, this woman so the same as me, putting her mouth on me there.

That morning at my office, every minute was an eternity as I waited for lunchtime to arrive. "The waiting is the hardest part," is I think how Tom Petty put it. Yeah, no frickin' doubt buddy! I clenched and squirmed and covertly rubbed until 11:30 when I skulked out of my office to meet my online lover.

I felt some security in the crowds of office workers beginning to venture out for their noon meal. During the ten minute walk from my office to the restaurant, I had time to get serious about what my mind had planned for latter in the day. Every time I felt on the verge of turning around and heading back to the office, those "serious" thoughts I was having flew right out the window when other, more lustful thoughts invaded my head. Truly, I hadn't felt this naughty and adventurous since I lost my virginity over twelve years earlier.

Before I knew it, I had arrived. I stood outside the front door of the eatery, meekly scanning the crowd for people I knew; praying that my emotional or sexual state wasn't outwardly apparent. Then, before I could talk myself out of it, I went inside. The lunch crowd was just starting to arrive, so no waiting for a table.

"How many?" the hostess asked.

"Two, there will be two of us," I said.

The young hostess showed me to a table in a quiet corner. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Iced tea please," I said, then I quickly added, "When somebody asks for ScubaLady, that's me."

"Oh," hostess girl peeped, "I think your party is waiting for you in the bar. I'll go get her."

I guess MouseyPie was even more anxious than I was. Frankly, I hoped to have a few minutes to collect my nerves before she arrived, well, so much for plans. I briefly checked to see if I was put together and presentable and then waited for Mouse.

From across the room I could see the hostess pointing towards me, so I brightened-up, smiling, no, grinning as I waited to see whomever she was speaking with step from around the corner. My heart was pounding; my mind was racing, as I anticipated seeing that pretty woman who'd typed all those wonderfully disgusting things to me over the past many months. And I waited...

Who-or what appeared was not my MouseyPie. She couldn't be, just couldn't be the woman I'd been carrying on with. 'No, not her,' I thought as my heart sank into the pit of my stomach.

I was expecting one of the myriad throng of anonymous worker-bees that inhabited this part of town during the daylight hours. You know the type: ten pounds overweight, the shoulder-length streaked blonde hair, the look of work-a-day mediocrity plastered to their face. That's what I expected, but instead, I got Alice the Goon. She was Janet Reno on steroids. And girl, if that was 29, then I'd hate to see her at 59.

Before I could flee or barf or whatever other thing I could do to not have to meet her, she was there before me, towering over me.

'Christ,' I thought, 'she must be 6' 7" tall.'

"Hi ScubaLady?" she said in a voice so high-pitched that I almost laughed.

She was a walking, talking contradiction. Everything about her just plain didn't match: not her height, not her body, not her feet, nor her hands. One part was large and another tiny. She was built like a linebacker, and then spoke like a grade school cheerleader.

"Mouse?" I asked.

I could see that she instantly understood my shock and disappointment with her appearance. Her look told me that she'd been here before; that she's lied before only to have a prospective lover reject her. But hell, what did she think would happen. Why on earth go to all that trouble, through all that fantasy and play.

Then it hit me like a Mac truck plowing through school kids in a crosswalk. The things that I'd said to her--those fantasies...

"Do you like the way I taste tonight slut?" she typed to me.

"Oh God yes," I'd respond while repeatedly dipping my fingers into my slick goo and then licking them clean. "Wipe your cunt all over my face...I want to wear you to bed tonight."

How many times had I said things like that, or worse, to this, this creature? How much of my sexual soul did I let pour out across that computer screen late at night while my husband and kids slept only a few feet away.

"Why did you lie to me Mouse?" I asked as the disgust and self-loathing grew into a lump of bile rapidly ascending from my belly.

That freak-show of a human started to explain, but I didn't listen. God I wanted to scream bloody murder at her. I wanted to reach out and smack her right across her distorted face. I didn't do either though; I just sat there staring at her as she tried to laugh-off her deception.

"...but we're here now," she said in that ridiculous child-like voice.

As if just being there constituted some acceptance on my part to carry this farce any further. "What? You think I..."

She reached inside her blazer and squeezed her breast while leaning closer to me and whispering, "I still want to be rough with your tits. That's what you want right?"

"I'm going to be ill," was all I managed as I grabbed my purse and ran for the door.

I never looked back. Inside the taxi back to my office, I cried. Mostly I cried at my own lack of judgment and good sense for ever staring this adventure. But, I also cried that my delightful fantasy had been shattered.

I never did make it back to the office that afternoon. Feeling disgusted and betrayed, I got in my car and drove home where I spent the rest of the afternoon being sick. My husband was confused when I called and asked him to pickup our youngest from the babysitter.

"Alright Honey," he said, "are you sure you're ok though, you sound strange."

Later that night, after my family was asleep, instead of logging onto the BBS and chatting, I disconnected the modem. I felt some pity for MouseyPie, but not much. Mostly I came back to reality: I was a wife and mother.

"Bob," I whispered to my husband as I crawled under the cool sheets, "I need you to fuck me really hard tonight. Bob? Bob?"

There was just his light snoring from the other side of our bed.

'Maybe tomorrow I'll find another BBS,' I thought as I drifted to sleep, 'and I'll never ever meet them.'

-----End of My First Time (A True Story)------