My First Creampie (fm:one-on-one, 6497 words)

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I moved through my room, a familiar space that now felt charged with a new, illicit energy. As I pulled out my clothes for the day, my hands instinctively gravitated towards my typical conservative attire: a knee-length floral skirt, a modest blouse that buttoned high on my neck, and a light cardigan. It was the uniform of the pious, unassuming daughter my parents knew, the good girl who wouldn't dare stray from the straight and narrow. Yet, as I dressed, the fabric felt almost like a costume, flimsy armor against the burgeoning sensuality that now simmered just beneath my skin.

Each button of my blouse felt like a deliberate act of concealment, a physical reminder of the secrets I now carried. As I adjusted the collar, my mind replayed the events of the past few days, a vivid, almost hallucinatory reel of forbidden memories. It started with the mortifying accidental photo - my nude fitness selfie, meant for no eyes but my own, somehow sent to my dad's best friend, Hudson. The sheer panic, the humiliating rush to his house, and then, his unexpected, captivating response. His calm demeanor, the way he'd so effortlessly, so subtly, coaxed me into that first, shocking blowjob. The taste of him, the feel of him swelling in my mouth, the raw, explicit praise he'd lavished upon my body - my "magnificent tits," my "work of art ass." The way I'd climaxed while touching myself was so violent and consuming that it had been a shattering introduction to a pleasure I never knew existed.

And then Sunday. My first time. The agonizing slowness of his entry, the sharp, fleeting sting that gave way to an overwhelming fullness as his thick cock claimed my virginity. The rhythm, deep and primal, as we moved together, my body instinctively arching against his. His words, "You're not a virgin anymore," still echoed in my ears, a profound, irreversible truth. My climax, synchronized with his, had been another earth-shattering explosion, leaving me breathless and spent.

A complex tangle of emotions gripped me as I finished dressing. Part of me, the part ingrained with my conservative upbringing, screamed in protest. Guilt, sharp and cold, still pricked at the edges of my conscience. This was wrong. So deeply, fundamentally wrong. But another part, a newly awakened, defiant part, hummed with a thrilling, almost dangerous confidence. For so long, I had felt invisible, like men never truly noticed me, certainly not in a desirable way. My large breasts had always seemed like a curse, making me feel clumsy and disproportionate. But Hudson had seen them, desired them, and worshipped them with a raw intensity that had transformed my self-perception. I felt incredibly confident. I felt undeniably sexy. The idea of ending things, of retreating back into the sheltered world of my innocence, hadn't even crossed my mind. Not as long as Hudson still wanted to explore this intoxicating new path with me.

There was a fleeting thought, a whisper of unease, that perhaps I was being used. That he, an older, married man, was simply indulging a forbidden fantasy with his friend's naive daughter. But I quickly cast the feeling aside. My desire for this clandestine journey of exploration, this thrilling dive into the unknown, was too strong. I was a willing participant, my hunger for his attention, his touch, his explicit praise, overriding any lingering doubts. I wanted to see where this would lead. I wanted more.

That afternoon, as planned, I went to his house. My heart pounded with a familiar mix of nerves and illicit excitement, but things went off without a hitch. He was tender, and sweet with me, his gaze warm and reassuring. He was gentle even, not coarse and dominant like during our very first sexual encounter. He led me to the guest room, and we had sex again, a softer, more intimate dance than Sunday's explosive initiation. Afterwards, he was sweet and playful, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin, his voice murmuring quiet compliments. It felt as

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Turkey Butt writes Mon 30 Jun 2025 21:42:

Another great story, Bea... my wife's taking a nap right now, but she's gonna get the bone as soon as she wakes up, thanks to this fire-starter of a story...

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