The Sonoma County vineyards seemed to stretch on for miles as Brad drove toward Warren’s estate. The afternoon sun magnified the brilliance of green vines that stretched out in long rows and the golden hillsides surrounding them. I wondered what time of year they actually harvested the grapes for the California wines. I sighed inwardly, adding the question to my growing list of things I still had to learn.
Brad and I had spent the first part of the drive talking about his evening with Allison and Troy. He seemed pleased with their immediate attraction to each other and the possibilities that might unfold. He seemed guarded about telling me too much about Troy. I didn’t get the sense of a hidden past, but more of a gentleman’s code of honor to not tell me anything more than Troy might tell me himself. I hoped that he and Allison would actually arrive over the weekend so I could meet him.
"Joni?" Brad’s voice drew me out of my thoughts.
"Hmm?"
"Tell me about your first sexual experience."
The question caught me off guard and I laughed nervously.
"What do you mean?" I asked. "When did I lose my virginity?"
"Well, that would be interesting too, but no. I mean the first time you were awakened sexually. Tell me about the when were you first turned on by someone. That usually isn’t the first time you actually have sex."
"I’ll have to think about that for a minute."
I closed my eyes and rested my head against the seat while my mind went backward through my past in search of Brad’s answer. I definitely remember the first guy I had sex with. What a disaster. Two virgins do not a great night of sex make. Before him there was plenty of kissing and petting with guys in high school. But who was first. I chuckled out loud as I finally remember.
"Oh," I laughed. "I had forgotten all about that."
"So you do remember."
"Yes." I grinned and looked out the window at the hillside. "I’m not sure I can tell you about that though."
"I hope you can, Joni," said Brad softly. "It’s very important to me."
"Why?" I asked.
"I’ll tell you what," he continued. "If you tell me your story, I’ll tell you why it’s important."
I let out a deep sigh and thought about it. I had no idea where to begin.
"Well, it’s not going to be anything like you are imagining." I waited for him to interrupt me, but he remained silent, waiting. "I’m not sure how old I was, actually - maybe thirteen. I was spending the night at a girlfriend’s house. Her name was Wendy. She had two older brothers that were always hanging around and teasing us. Anyway, that night we were in her bed talking and giggling about girl stuff and she started talking about sex. She told me that she had had oral sex with a boy. She wouldn’t tell me who at the time, but later I figured out that it was one of her brothers. I had heard about oral sex, but wasn’t quite sure how it worked so I asked her to tell me about it. She explained how they had licked each other genitals. I remember thinking how gross it was."
"Glad to know you’ve gotten beyond that," interrupted Brad.
I looked over at him and winked. "When I told her that I didn’t believe that could possibly feel good, she insisted on proving it to me. She crawled down beneath the covers and started getting between my legs. At first I started laughing, because I thought she was just being silly. But then she actually started licking me, and I froze."
I stopped talking long enough to look over at Brad. His eyes were fixed on the road and his breathing seemed shallow.
"Keep going," he said without looking over at me.
I looked back out my window and continued. "I couldn’t believe how it felt. I remember squirming beneath her with a mixed feeling of wanting her to stop and then not wanting her to stop. I had never felt anything like it before. That was before I ever learned about masturbation. The more she did it, the more I didn’t want her to stop. I didn’t know about an orgasm and had no idea what was happening when I started to come. I remember she stopped and put a pillow over my face so her mom wouldn’t hear us. Then she licked me until I had my first orgasm."
"What happened then?" asked Brad.
"Then she came up and laughed saying, ‘I told you so’ over and over." I let out a long sigh and continued. "That was the beginning and I’ve never been the same since."
"Why not?"
"Once you taste the fruit of the forbidden tree, you can never go back."
"Did you two ever do that again?"
"Yes, that went on for most of the summer until they moved away just before school started. She even told her brother what we were doing and he came in her room one night when her parents were out late. That was my first experience with a boy touching me. We didn’t have sex, but he sucked my nipples and licked me, and showed me how to lick his penis. Wendy thought it was so cool to watch him come, so before he left he jerked off for us. I guess that was my introduction to sex."
"Did you ever do her?"
"Not really. I’m not sure why now. I remember she would take my hand and rub it against her clit until she came. That was usually after she had done me. She seemed to like doing me the most."
"Have you had other experience with a women since?"
"Not really. Not like that."
"Like what then?"
"Well, I had a girlfriend once in college who asked me to do a threesome with her boyfriend one night when we were all out celebrating his birthday."
"And you did?" asked Brad.
"Yeah, it was kind of fun. I sat on his face and she sat on his cock. It was a big fantasy of his and she thought it would be neat to give it to him for his birthday."
"But you two didn’t make love together?"
"Me and Cheryl? No. We kind of played with each other’s tits a little bit, but nothing more than that."
Brad was quiet for awhile and I remembered his end of the bargain.
"So, why was it so important to know about my first sexual experience?"
"Quite often your first sexual experience sets the tone of how you view sex. If your experience was positive or negative, safe or threatening, can influence how you feel about trying new things sexually later on in life."
"Hmmm…"
"How do you feel now after telling me that story?" asked Brad.
"I don’t know," I shrugged.
"That’s not an answer, Joni." Something had changed in the tone of his voice and I realized that he considered this an important question.
"I feel aroused."
"Good." He looked over and caught my eye for a moment before turning back to the road. "Do you have those snap crotch panties on today?"
"Yes," I whispered.
"Then I want you pull your dress up and unsnap them for me."
I was learning not to hesitate when he asked me to do things like that. My skirt was loose enough that I pulled it up and then spread my legs wide enough to grab the snaps on the crotch. With a quick tug, I opened the snaps and felt the nylon cloth retract. I started to remove my hands when Brad continued.
"Good girl. Now I want you to close your eyes and touch yourself."
I did as instructed and let my fingers slip in between the moist folds. I was surprised to find such a pool of wetness from my story.
"Oh God," I whispered, letting my fingers soak in the moisture and run across my clit.
"It’s wet, isn’t it?" asked Brad.
"Yes."
"Good," he whispered. "Now I want you to touch yourself the way Wendy you used to touch you. I want you to think of her and bring yourself right to the point of orgasm, but I don’t want you to come. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Good. Keep going."
My fingers flicked along my clit and then dug deep inside where the aching was stronger. Wendy used to try to get her whole hand inside of me when I would get turned on. I didn’t know what I really needed was a big hard cock to fuck me. All I knew was that when she started licking me, I couldn’t get enough. Even when I came from her tongue, I wasn’t satisfied inside. I hadn’t told Brad that. I hadn’t told him how I would whimper in her arms and tell her that I was on fire. She would put two or three fingers up inside of me and pump them in and out. That was at least some relief.
One night when I was in such a state she almost talked me into going into her brother’s room and letting him fuck me hard. She had done it with him a couple of times and said that was the only thing that made that feeling go away. But I wouldn’t do it. I was so afraid of getting pregnant as a teenager that I vowed I would never have sex with a boy. So she would drive me nuts with her fingers and her tongue.
"That’s right," encouraged Brad. "Wendy’s tongue felt good didn’t it?"
"Yes," I whispered, rubbing my fingers against my clit.
"She liked to make you cum, didn’t she?"
"Oh God, yes," I moaned. I tensed my legs and knew that I could make myself come very easily if I kept going. It felt so good. So sweet."
"Good," said Brad. "Keep it right there. Keep yourself right on the edge there until it hurts inside."
"Yes," I whimpered. "Please… let me come."
Brad chuckled as he reached over and took my hand from beneath my skirt. I opened my eyes as he drew my fingers to his mouth and sucked each one slowly.
"No, not now, my dear. We’re almost at the front gate."
I looked ahead and saw nothing but rolling hills. I was about to doubt him when we came around a curve and Brad turned left onto a paved drive. He released my hand and drove another 300 feet before turning into a private drive that had a guard shack near the road. I straightened my skirt as he slowed to a stop to talk to the guard.
"Can I help you?" The guard bent down to talk to Brad and then glanced through the window and nodded at me. I wondered if my face looked as flushed as it felt.
"Brad Mitchell," introduced Brad. "Warren is expecting us."
"Of course, Mr. Mitchell. One moment."
He walked back to the guard shack and pushed a button that opened the iron gate. When it was completely open, the guard nodded for Brad to proceed.
"I wasn’t expecting a private guard," I said.
"What were you expecting?"
"I don’t know. I nice house out in the country. Why does he have a guard?"
"It’s a rather remote location," explained Brad. "It’s just a way to protect his investment and insure privacy."
We drove for almost a mile before clearing a hill and looking down on the Warren’s estate. It looked like a mansion set in the slope of a hill that looked out over a natural lake. "That’s some investment."
"Yes, Warren has done well and loves this place. And he especially enjoys sharing it with his friends on long weekends like this."
Brad pulled over to the side of the drive and stopped the car. The scene was perfectly quiet as we looked down at it. I looked over at Brad, wondering why we had stopped.
"Before we go down, I want to give you something to wear."
He reached over and opened the glove compartment and pulled out a box. I watched as he withdrew a leather collar that a gold pendant hanging from it. The pendant had an italicized letter M etched into the metal.
"I want you to wear this for the weekend," he explained. "It will tell others that you belong to me."
I raised an eyebrow questioning his choice of words. He smiled understandingly.
"It will tell others that you are with me, and hence, they will have to ask my permission before handling you in any way."
"Alright."
He opened the collar and leaned over to put it on me. His face was quite near mine as he tightened the clasp behind my neck. I felt a flush of excitement at being so close to him.
"Is that too tight?" he whispered.
I reached up and felt the leather and ran my finger along the inside. It was snug, but not too tight.
"No, I think it’s fine."
He leaned back and looked at me, straightening the collar so that the pendant hung perfectly. Then he leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips.
"Do you remember your safe word?" he asked.
I had to stop and think. I had never had a chance to use it. "Yellow?"
"Right," he smiled.
"Joni, I don’t want you to do anything this weekend that you don’t want to do. That’s important to me. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"But I do want you to trust me and to let yourself try new things. Experiment with things and let me know what you liked and didn’t like. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Good," he said, kissing me again. "Are you still wet?"
"Oh yes," I laughed.
"Good," he smiled. "Let’s go meet the others then."
©Copyright 1998 Angela Preston. These stories may not be reprinted in any form without written permission.