index

Message-ID: <39211asstr$1036818602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Medea F.K." <medeafk@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} Tomorrow (mf, first)
Date: Sat,  9 Nov 2002 00:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

	I was fifteen the first time I had sex.  I'd been dating Dan since 
Christmas, but we were friends longer than that.  We met at a summer 
Shakespeare workshop, this six-week-long thing where we spent all day 
learning and rehearsing, and then performed at the community center at the 
end.  We were doing Macbeth, so of course I wanted to be Lady Macbeth, but 
instead ended up as one of the witches.  It was a fun part, all the same.  
Dan was in charge of the sound crew, and sometime during dress rehearsals we 
started doing stuff in the evenings, after the workshop was over for the 
day.
	We continued to hang out a lot after it ended, going to movies, talking on 
the phone about homework and the crazy teachers at our different schools, 
but he was just this cool guy I spent time with, nothing romantic.  And then 
Christmas vacation, we were sitting on the couch in his parent's basement, 
watching TV, and all of a sudden he leaned over and kissed me.  I was in 
shock, I had no idea he liked me that way.  It all clicked, though, and so 
after that, we were dating.
	In February he turned sixteen, and his parents gave him keys to the old 
beater of a car they'd been holding onto for him.  Suddenly we had a lot 
more privacy on dates, if we wanted it.  We took advantage of this, of 
course, to drive to the woods just outside of town and make out in the back 
seat.  One Sunday night in March, we were kissing and groping and trying to 
make the most of the hour left until curfew.  A bit of early spring weather 
made it warm enough without the car's heater to take off more clothes than 
usual, and we were so into it, so turned on, that groping led to more, and 
we had sex for the first time.
	The next day, I had to get up and go to school, but I couldn't focus on 
anything other than the night before.  The experience followed me around all 
day.  When I dressed for school, I thought about the way he had touched me, 
when I looked into the mirror, I wondered if anyone could see the 
difference.  I certainly felt changed, and I kept having to repress the urge 
to dance around and sing.
	I daydreamed my way through all of the morning classes, remembering each 
moment, the thick feeling of pleasure still filling my body.  I recalled 
lying against the side wall of the car, skirt up around my waist, him with 
his hand between my legs, kissing me.  His hard cock, half-constrained by 
his shorts, pressed against my thigh.  I let him slide my underwear off, 
making me more accessible to his touch.  Then I released his cock from his 
clothes, and stroked him, looking with lust into his eyes.  "I want to be 
inside you," he said, fumbling a condom out of his pocket.  I nodded, eager 
to feel it, eager to take this last step.
	We switched around, and he sat slouching back on the seat, pulling his 
shorts off and awkwardly trying to roll the condom on.  When he was ready, I 
straddled him, and tried to lower myself down, but his cock kept slipping 
out of place.  Finally he managed to hold it at the right angle, and the tip 
slid inside me.  Biting my lip, hoping it wouldn't hurt, I pushed down, 
feeling him stretch me open.  It didn't hurt at all, though, it felt 
incredible, and soon we were fucking faster, gasping for air and steaming up 
the car windows, and oh, it was so good.
	Then the bell rang, bringing me out of my memories and back to the 
classroom.  At lunch, Marissa, who had been my best friend since third 
grade, picked up immediately that something had happened and wouldn't leave 
me alone until she knew the details.  "Out with it Jess," she said.  
"What're you so thrilled about?"  I just kind of blushed and grinned, not 
sure what to say.  "Did you and Dan...?  Oh, I bet that's it.  No wonder."  
I nodded, almost embarrassed.  "Was it good?  How was he?"
	"It was... I don't even know what to tell you.  It was great."
	"Lucky girl.  Much better than the 'take her and leave her' act that Andy 
pulled with me, I'm sure."
	Marissa was still a little bitter about her first time.  Her now 
ex-boyfriend Andy not only ditched her a week later, but then she found out 
that he'd told a highly exaggerated version of events to his friends.  I was 
definitely glad that nothing so humiliating had happened to me.
	The rest of the day continued at the same level of distraction, and after 
school I rushed home to call Dan.  We talked and talked for hours, until our 
parents got home, and made a date for Friday, which seemed the soonest we 
could get away with staying out late again.  We met at least once a week 
after that, to repeat that first Sunday in the car.  I loved sex, I 
discovered, and while my schoolwork probably suffered, those weeks and 
nights were magical for me, making me feel alive and sexy in a way I 
couldn't have even imagined before.
	It ended eventually, of course.  In June I discovered that the reason he 
had been avoiding me lately was because he had started seeing some girl from 
his school.  I was devastated, and we had a melodramatic break-up involving 
angry phone calls where I would yell and cry, not understanding how he could 
leave me, while he tried to give me comfort I didn't want, saying it wasn't 
my fault, there was just this other person, and he hoped we could be friends 
again someday.
	Eventually I got over it, though, and moved on.  After things settled down, 
I was able to look upon our relationship more fondly, for the enjoyable 
experience that it was.  Now when I think back, I'm reminded of Macbeth's 
soliloquy about the passing of time:

	To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
      	Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
      	To the last syllable of recorded time,
      	And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
      	The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
      	Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
      	That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
      	And then is heard no more: it is a tale
      	Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
      	Signifying nothing.

And somehow, that makes me smile.

--
Medea
medeafk@hotmail.com		http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/medea/www




_________________________________________________________________
Add photos to your e-mail with MSN 8. Get 2 months FREE*. 
http://join.msn.com/?page=features/featuredemail

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}|
|Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org>      |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+