Naked, penniless, without memories or a name, the grown-up foundling is discovered in a forest of Wiesbaden, Germany. Undaunted, she faces her fate that’s putting new spokes in her wheel all the time. All of a sudden she finds herself on the road again, unemployed and homeless and under suspicion of murder, and she sees no way out but prostitution. Then some of her memories come back to haunt her. Will she ever find out the truth about herself, about how her personal fate is linked with the Lionhearts?
The first time was, well, let’s say, difficult for me.
The public part, sophisticated small talk during dinner, then a visit to the English Theatre in Frankfurt, followed by a visit to a bar, was no problem. Of course, there should be some frivolous moments, the client had to be stimulated intellectually as well as with regard to his simpler needs. That I offered him views of my bra-less cleavage now and then was as much part of it as the occasional presentation of the delicate skin on the inside of my upper legs.
I knew how sex worked, technically. The hard must go into the wet. Wet I became quickly, and I hoped that this fact and my naked body would suffice to make my client hard, because as soon as we arrived on our hotel room, my beginner status had to become apparent.
This client waited patiently, until I had removed truly everything. What now? With my legs folded underneath and my body straightened, I sat down on the bed and waited until he had got rid of his clothes, too. His breath went heavy, and he showed a quite firm and large manhood. I shouldn’t have worried about his hardening. This tool should fit inside me?
He had a toned body, smelled nice and had been freshly shaved at the beginning of the evening. Now the first stubbles had reappeared.
With a friendly smile, I leaned back and folded my lower legs outside again. His glance followed my moves to my red pubic hair.
“Not yet,” he declared. “You’re too cute!”
With great patience he began to kiss my body—my arms, my shoulders, my neck, my throat, my breasts, my belly, my hips, my thighs, my feet. While I was indeed enjoying his treatment, I always spent some attention to his member, whenever it came into reach, but without interrupting him.
Finally, he began to caress my wet parts with his rough tongue, suck my juice, push my lips apart, and with one hand, I helped to reveal my rosy little knob. He followed this invitation, and as I had learned from Daniela, I openly announced my pleasure with lustful moans, until I finally came.
The first time with a man, and a super-orgasm right away. Not a bad start. Spread-eagle and with wide-open arms, I reclined on my back and felt some of my juice running down into my ass crack.
“You taste nice,” he noticed.
Another thing Daniela had taught me—I put two fingers into my vagina and then sucked them with pleasure. “Indeed,” I agreed.
His cock was still hard and large. I rolled around, placed one hand around the shaft and for the first time felt the little difference. So warm, firm and yet nice it could feel! How would it be when he penetrated me?
“Do it now,” I quietly begged. “Quick and intense.” Perhaps that way he won’t find out that I’m still untouched?
I reclined on my back again, opened my legs wide and waited. I was still wet enough, I knew that. When he started to slowly penetrate me, I grabbed his buttocks with both hands and pulled while pushing my pelvis against him. Ouch! That hurts! It also felt good, and before he could really pause, I began to move rhythmically. Yes, I was very sensitive in my cavern, too, and I felt him accelerating, becoming tense, holding back.
“Let it come!” I called into his ear, and he came. I came, and a warm feeling spread inside me, triggered incredible sensations of lust, made me moan and tighten my muscles.
Then I hugged his strong body and pulled him tight. Damn, that was good! I was paid money for this?
For minutes, I simply enjoyed the feeling of bare skin against bare skin. First, his shrinking member slipped out of me, a pity, then his juice began running out. Finally, he rolled away from me and rested on one arm, paused, closely examined the triangle between my thighs.
“Damn,” he cursed. “Damn!”
“You were great!” I praised. “What’s troubling you?”
“You’re bleeding!” he got upset.
“Yes, sure,” I confirmed kindly. “You were the first.”
He paused again. “You are—you were—a virgin?”
“Oh shit.” He fell silent for a while. Finally, he admitted, “I had sex with many women before, but I’ve never been the first.”
“I feared it a bit. It hurt for a moment, but it was simply great.”
“I should be pissed now that I’ve booked a literally bloody beginner,” he mused and destroyed a part of the magic by talking business. “But it hasn’t been your first time having sex. You wrote that you’re bi.”
“I had sex with women before.”
“And you are good,” he added. “You went off like a bombshell.”
“Yeees,” I purred. “That was owed to your treatment, and now I’m ready for more.”
“Without rubber again?” he suddenly asked. “Sorry, I forgot.”
“Me too,” I admitted. Dora had advised me to buy and use condoms. I knew that I couldn’t become pregnant right now, and I hadn’t studied sexual diseases yet, I’d do that later and be terrified. But for now…
“Without again,” I continued, purring. “It feels so good when it shoots inside me.”