My First Time Sucking Someone Off (fm:first time, 7488 words) | |||
Author: Beatrice ![]() | |||
Added: Jun 25 2025 | Views / Reads: 740 / 657 [89%] | Story vote: 9.86 (16 votes) | |
My first story here, based on the first time I was with an older man. Hope you like it! | |||
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My stomach plummeted as I realized what I had done. I'd just been in my bedroom, checking my phone, feeling a tiny spark of pride as I looked at the new progress photos. I'd been working out so hard since starting college, and even though I still saw the pudgy girl I used to be, I was starting to see the outlines of the toned body Hudson said I could achieve. Some of the pictures were just me in my new workout set, but I'd also taken a few, just for myself, completely nude. Raw, honest shots to see every curve, every dip, every little change. They were private, meant only for my eyes.And now I'd accidentally shared one of them with Hudson. Hudson, my dad's best friend since college. He's practically family. He's been living next door to us since I was a little girl. He's always been so kind and patient, especially recently, when I finally decided to get serious about my fitness. I'd shyly asked him for some advice a few months ago, knowing he was really into working out, and he'd immediately offered to help me. He even gave me a workout plan and checked in on my progress. I'd started sending him clothed progress pictures every few weeks, just to show him how I was doing, and he'd always been so encouraging. So utterly proper about my fitness journey. The man I looked up to was like an older brother, or even a second father figure in some ways. The very thought of what I'd just sent made my face burn with a heat that felt like a physical wound.
My heart started pounding against my ribs, so hard I thought it would burst. It was a frantic, desperate rhythm. There was no time to call. I had to fix this, now. I threw on the first conservative outfit I could grab - my sensible pleated skirt, a button-down blouse, practically tripping over myself. My hands fumbled with the buttons, my mind a terrifying whirlwind of panic and mortification. What would he think? He'd always seen me as "Beatrice," the quiet, respectable daughter of his friend. The "good girl" who always dressed modestly and never caused trouble. This... this would shatter that image completely. Not just for him, but what if he accidentally showed someone? What if he mentioned it? The thought of my parents finding out made my breath catch in my throat. They were so strict, so concerned with appearances. It would devastate them. And me.
I practically flew out my front door and across the short lawn to his house. My breath hitched in my chest as I rang his doorbell, one frantic, desperate push after another. I squeezed my eyes shut, picturing the image on his screen - my body, exposed, vulnerable, and utterly not for his eyes. The shame was a living, breathing thing, crawling up my neck and into my cheeks.
The door opened. Hudson stood there, looking a little surprised to see me, especially looking so disheveled and frantic. His calm expression was almost worse than anger. It made my shame deepen, knowing how utterly composed he was while I was spiraling. I could hear him clear his throat, a low sound.
"Oh my God, Hudson! NO! NO, NO, NO!" I practically shrieked, my voice a high-pitched, desperate rush, tumbling over itself. "You didn't just get that, did you?! Please, tell me you didn't open it! Oh, this is the worst nightmare! I was sending that to... to myself, just to track my progress, and my phone must have auto-filled or something! I am so, so, so mortified, I could literally crawl into a hole and never come out! Please, I'm begging you, delete it right now! Just... just promise me you'll never mention this again! Please!"
I held my breath, clutching my phone so tightly my knuckles were white. The silence felt endless, suffocating. I imagined him staring at the picture, his expression a mixture of shock and... what? Disappointment? Disgust? It was too much to bear. My eyes pricked with tears, hot and stinging.
"Beatrice," he said, his voice softer than I expected, "slow down. Take a breath. What are you talking about?"
His calm tone made my shame deepen, knowing how utterly composed he was while I was spiraling. "The... the picture," I whispered, my voice barely there. "I sent... I sent it to you by mistake. It was... it wasn't supposed to go to anyone. Please, Hudson, just tell me you'll delete it. Right now. And you won't... you won't tell anyone." My heart hammered, waiting for his response, for the verdict that would
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Well written - very boner-inducing. Beatrice, you're a fine porno writer. Check out my stories - you may well be a girl that I boned in the past...
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