Sex with a virgin.

[orange@]

This is a question for men/guys. How do you feel about virgins? Have you had any experience with them? Would you like to repeat it now or just buy it (if you didn’t have one). Is there an age category, let’s say, "innocents"
P.S. The question doesn’t concern me) I’m just interested in the opinion of men, especially those aged 40+. The topic is purely for chatting)
Preferably answers in a more detailed form

[Arhivarius]

There is a good description of deflowering in a book by Eduard Topol.
Beautifully written, I used to jerk off to his stories for a long time.
Here are excerpts from his book:

Oh, these tiny, fresh, like an unopened bud, lower lips!

Pink clitoris covered with a wonderful soft fluff in the bosom of girlish, still children’s legs!

A craftily closed tiny vagina is not yet a vagina at all, since you put it there yet - nothing is possible, but at least you want it!

In the famous Black Sea pioneer camp there were two thousand of these seductively young girls, bashfully hidden, fiercely guarded and carelessly teasing.

They marched to the loud crack of drums on pioneer lines, went on hiking trips, sunbathed on the beaches, swam in the sea, played volleyball and tennis, devoured fruit in the huge dining room, sang evening songs around the fires, kissed young fifteen-year-olds Komsomol members in the dark alleys of the park and on the night beaches and again marched past my windows in pioneer ties, short shorts and T-shirts, under which strong young breasts boldly bulged.

We, the creative delegation of Moscow Television, were guests of the camp, and I was the administrator of this delegation.

More:
Among the three and a half thousand teenagers in this camp, there were probably two thousand girls, of which at least a thousand were between fourteen and sixteen years old. It doesn’t take much imagination to imagine this host of tanned Lolitas and nymphets who frolicked around us on the beach, squealed as they entered the sea, played volleyball or sunbathed on the hot yellow sand.

nNaked, in tight panties and the same narrow stripes of colored bras, under which young, strong breasts boldly bulged. About thirty percent of these girls were quite suitable for the covers of Fifteen and Seventeen magazines or Bloomingdale’s catalogs, and, God, with what wolfish eyes we adults devoured this young, juicy, fresh flesh!

Sent after 15 minutes 39 seconds:
Next:
Confident that my meeting with the girl would not take place that evening, I was about to go to bed, but at that moment the light click of heels on the concrete alley alerted my ears.

She was running.

Even by the click of heels, I realized that it was her. There was something airy and light, Assolevsky in this fast run. And I was not mistaken - she fluttered into the strip of light near the gazebo - naively funny and charming in these short pioneer shorts, in the same storm jacket as Seryozha’s - the camp uniform, with a pioneer tie on a white blouse and... high-heeled shoes.

“H-h...h-h...hello...” she said, trembling, and her radiant eyes looked down.

More: A fourteen-year-old creature does not want to be considered a child; out of a spirit of contradiction, she will do everything to prove that she is not a child, not a child, but already an adult. And about fifteen minutes later, when we were drinking tea with cognac, she said almost angrily:

- You don’t need to say “baby” to me. I’m not a child.

– Well, I’m teasing you. But, actually, you are, of course, a child. You don’t even know how to kiss.

– Why do you think so?

– Well, if you kissed boys several times at school, that’s doesn’t mean you can do anything. But we’ll check now,” I walked up to her, in one movement picked her up and moved her onto the sofa – like a doll, she didn’t even have time to get scared. - Like this. You are sitting here and I am next to you. But I’m sleeping. I am a tired soldier, I just came home from the front, I walked and drove a thousand kilometers, and then I came home and fell asleep. And you need to wake me up, you are my wife, you need to wake me up - I don’t know why, you can figure it out yourself - maybe the collective farm chairman is calling me or the district committee is calling me - it doesn’t matter. Well, how are you going to wake me, a tired soldier?

And I lay down on the sofa, closed my eyes.

She sat above me, thinking .

I “slept”, even whistling a little, and waited, waited for quite a long time, but then - a quiet, birdlike, almost inaudible kiss touched my lips. I didn’t wake up. Her lips touched me again, and again - I did not move. And then she decisively pressed her lips onto my lips, captured my lips with a strong kiss, and although it was beautiful - it was a lilac kiss from her lilac lips - I immediately bucked my head and turned away.

“Well,” I said. - After all, he will suffocate in his sleep. And in general, out of fright, he can punch you in the face. No, that’s wrong. Look.

And I calmly, with strong hands, laid the baby in my place on the sofa:

- Now you are a soldier. Close your eyes, sleep.

She obediently closed her eyes.

I stood over her, and looked at her in the quiet twilight of the room. The slender hands of a ballerina, two pigtails with ribbons and this ridiculous pioneer tie, clasping her neck and with its ends covering the bulges of her still childish breasts that were just barely visible under the white shirt. I had to seduce and fuck this creature.

I stood over her and thought - is it necessary? How many tears and fuss there will be, somewhere in Saratov this girl has a father and mother almost my age, probably not bad guys - and now I’ll start treating their daughter.

Or maybe really no need?

Send her to camp now, let her go to sleep.

But... But someone will fuck her. It’s not me, but some rescuer from the rescue station will simply break his dick into these thin ballet legs, and what am I going to do with masturbation with my decency?

From the next room, dull, exhausted creaks were occasionally heard beds. There Valka has already fucked her fawn and straddled it, and is already jumping on it, frolicking, and here I am still playing a game...

Sent after 7 minutes 25 seconds:
- Well, what are you doing? – Natasha opened her eyes, and in those eyes I read challenge and mockery.
– Shh! - I said. – Close your eyes.
She closed it. I leaned over to her and slowly began to untie this idiotic pioneer tie.
I took it off, unbuttoned the buttons of her white uniform shirt, and then she opened her eyes again:
- What are you doing?
– Quiet, soldier, sleep. You just need to sleep freely, like this. And now I will start waking you up. Just don’t wake up right away, you have to wake up when something wakes up inside you. That’s when you feel something sinking in the pit of your stomach, or in your heart, or somewhere else - that’s when I woke you up. It’s clear? Sleep! I gave a minute pause so that her nerves would tense up in anticipation, and then I began to lightly, in one touch, stroke her shoulder, open neck, cheek with my fingers, straightened the hair on her forehead and again began to stroke the delicate skin of her neck , a fragile girl’s shoulder, and then leaned close to her, but did not kiss her yet, but peered into her closed eyes, disturbing her and exciting her with the closeness of his face. After all, she wasn’t sleeping. And the closeness of a man, his face, hands, breathing, his palm on her bare collarbone - she lay in front of me, like a hidden animal with her eyes closed, and I think she was simply scared to lie like that, naked and defenseless, in front of me, an adult a man. She even stopped breathing. And when I finally didn’t attack her, but only kissed her softly on the lips, it was probably like a pardon. She just took a breath of relief, and her lips responded to me with a slight elastic movement.
Now we were kissing seriously - I hugged her no longer like a soldier, and my hand authoritatively and calmly pulled out the bottom of her white shirt from her shorts and dived towards her breasts, to the narrow bra that is constricting her breasts.
- “Mmmm...” she hummed negatively under my kiss, but I had already felt the clasp under her shoulder blades and with one movement of my fingers unfastened the unnecessary bra.
- “Mmmm...” she said weakly again with her mouth sealed with my lips, but my hand was already on her tiny, sweet, lemon-sized breast, however, even smaller than a lemon, it was almost possible to stay there no way, and I removed my hand, tore my face away from Natasha’s lips, took her under her arms and moved her onto my lap. She was as light as a doll.
“Chicken,” I said. - Let’s have a drink. You can pour me cognac and wine for yourself.
– Why should I have wine?
– Because you are not an alcoholic. You can’t have cognac. You’ll get drunk and you’ll be rowdy here.
Something intimate and trusting has already connected us - and kisses that were not at all acting, and my hand on her chest, and even the fact that she sits like that without resistance me on my knees - all this told me that I was walking at the right pace.
We drank a glass of cognac, and I kissed her again and realized that she really, really wanted to kiss - she pressed her whole body against me , and without hesitation I sat her on my lap astride her, so that her open legs clasped my loins, and her pubis rested against my Brother, who was still hidden behind my fly. I hugged her without removing my lips from the kiss. A pale face with closed eyes breathed intermittently into my face, our lips did not break, and my hands literally pressed her pubis and tummy into my loins. Then, stopping, I took off my shirt and her shirt (“Alive! Alive!” I told her. “This is in the way!”), and now the soft elastic balls of her girlish breasts were pressed against my chest. I lay down on the sofa and put her on top of me. Now this chicken was, as it were, the master of the situation, I did this in order not to frighten her, so that she would be calmer. We kissed, I stroked her shoulders, her back, I let go of her pigtails, turned her over on her back and tickled my face with her hair, and my hands covered her breasts with my palms, and then one hand dived down to her shorts and began to unfasten the buttons of her shorts. them on their side.
Natasha weakly resisted. I said quietly:
- Well, wait, wait, don’t be afraid...
I took off her shorts, she was left in only thin panties. Naked, in only transparent panties, she turned to me:
- I’m cold.
She was really shaking - either from excitement, or maybe she was really cold.
I raised and carried her to bed, covered her with a blanket, like a child, up to her chin, and then, in one motion, throwing off his pants and underpants, dived naked under the blanket with her. She recoiled against the wall, but I had already hugged her, pressed her to me, and her narrow body stretched along my body like a thin snake, and my Brother ended up somewhere under her knees.
We kissed. Her eyes were tightly closed, but our lips had long understood their simple work, they either caressed each other with dovelike tenderness, or dug into each other with the power of a vacuum pump, or even simply bit - lips biting lips. And again - greedy, passionate kisses.
Natasha was already breathing heavily, intermittently, her body seemed to vibrate in my hands from the shocks of her excited heart, belly, chest, and I periodically tore her lips away from me and kissed her shoulders , chest, stomach. To do this, I didn’t have to bend over to her under the blanket - we had already thrown it off a long time ago, and I simply took her under the arms and lifted her above me, bringing to my lips her small breasts, then her shoulders, then her belly, and then her curly, in small gold pubic curls. As a deft barber moves a razor along a sharpening stone, so I moved it, weightless, over my body, kissing and exciting everything that fell on my lips—the elastic brown papillae, the tightly curled navel and its surroundings, and the curly pubis with tiny, almost undeveloped clitoris. The lips of her vagina were closed like the flaps of a shell—neither with my lips nor with my tongue could I even open these narrow pads. When my tongue touched the warm, compressed lips, Natasha shuddered and froze above me with frozen breath, and not a single vein trembled on her body under my hands. In my opinion, her heart simply stopped at that moment - from fear, from excitement, from pleasure.
And then I slowly turned her over me, turning her head towards my rearing Brother. I laid her on top of me, took her by the hands and with these childish palms forced her to hug my Younger Brother, and almost immediately I felt her little hot lips on him. Holding onto him with both hands, like a Pioneer bugle, she kissed him, and then... Really, it was like how one-year-old babies cling to a bottle with a pacifier, Natasha held my Brother with both hands, in a girth, and diligently, smacking his lips , swallowing saliva, sucked it. I felt not so much pleased as it was funny, and after a couple of minutes I interrupted this procedure. Now sucked and wet, my Brother was ready for the next operation. I picked Natasha up in my arms again, turned her around to face me, kissed her hot, wet lips and asked:
– Are you not afraid?
She was silent, without opening her eyes. Maybe she didn’t understand what I was asking, or didn’t hear me at all, but the second time I didn’t ask, I took her by the legs, strengthened her left foot near my right thigh and the right foot near my left and made her body squat. right above his Little Brother. And then, holding her by her tiny, narrow hips, I began to bring her closer to him, and when what I call my Younger Brother touched her Younger Sister, I felt Natasha turn to stone in my hands, shrink, her thin elbows a natural impulse pressed against my stomach.
“Don’t be afraid,” I said. - Don’t be afraid. Nothing will happen now. It doesn’t happen like that. Don’t be afraid. Just let them kiss slowly...
Thin, tiny, she easily raised her body above me and just as slowly lowered it, and the tiny lips of her Sister really only kissed my Brother with a soft touch. And I held her waist, helping her make these ritually slow movements and watching her. She breathed in rhythm with her movements. The eyes are closed, wet lips are partly open, and white, milk-like teeth gleam in the dark, and the diligent body warily, sensitively sinks to a teasingly fatal limit.
But I was in no hurry to cross this fatal line, I was thinking. I lay under her, listening and feeling how intermittently, intensely this excited little body was breathing, feeling how her Little Sister’s lips had already given in, opened and my Brother was now resting against something harder. I understood that at any moment I could simply break her virginity, fuck her, make her a woman. But I was thinking. Cowardice. Ordinary cowardice knocked on my brain with the voice of the so-called conscience. "If necessary? Why do you need it? - I told myself. “Think what will happen tomorrow if someone finds out, if they get to the studio, because they will be kicked out of work, put on trial for child molestation, ten years in prison - for what?” For this little one? Why do you need this? Stop it, stop...” But my hands... my hands continued their work, and the voice of the rebel Younger Brother was already beyond reason. Natasha fell on my chest and whispered:
- I’m tired...
I kissed her tenderly, like a daughter. And then, quiet and tired, he laid her on her back next to me, rose above her and, leaning on her hands, lay down on her, spreading her thin legs to the sides with her legs. She tried to squeeze those legs with a last, hopelessly submissive attempt, but I said: “Wait, don’t interfere, everything will be fine,” and with my hands I also raised her knees to open a straight path for my Brother. Now he, my Brother, gently floated onto her, wetly touched her warm lips and imperiously, persistently, but slowly pressed into her tiny, still closed slit. I felt that I was already at the limit, and only with some special effort of will I switched my attention to something extraneous.
A quiet, shuddering creature, waiting for pain, lay under me with tightly compressed eyelids, with linen eyes scattered across the pillow. hair, with open lips, a thin neck, fragile shoulders and an uneven breathing chest. “Cum on her stomach! – I shouted to myself. – Cum on her stomach and don’t suffer! Why the hell do you need all this - after all, you don’t go in there now, you’ll suffer the whole night and won’t go in...”
But then a new surge of lust threw away these thoughts like a hot wave, my Brother tensed up with another rush of blood, and I, already without hesitation, controlled no longer by the brain, but by a dark and ancient instinct, he began to introduce his Brother into the slightly open lips of her slit with all the strength of his legs and hips. If anyone claims that humanity has already emerged from cave age, don’t believe it. Isn’t every man dreaming about this cavernous moment of violence against virginity?..
Natasha moaned, I immediately grabbed her mouth with my hand and clamped it with my palm so as to allow her teeth to bite into my palm if she really wanted it hurt, and she tossed her head around on the pillow, but I stopped that too and only heard her moan from under my palm, and meanwhile my Brother continued to aggressively and powerfully push the mouth of her slit apart. I felt like inside this gap some cartilages were reluctantly moving apart, moving apart, and finally - oh, a fantastically divine, fabulously sweet moment of PENETRATION. I didn’t feel how I tore her film of virginity, nor how she screamed under my palm - I felt such immense bliss from the warm, hot flesh around my penis that I came at that very second, barely having time to pull Brother out of her body. Powerful surges of sperm poured out of him with such force that they flooded her neck, chest, and chin. Then, when I fell on the bed next to her, felt with my hand the towel at the head of the bed and began to wipe her and myself with it, I saw blood on my Brother - her blood.
Yes, this is the moment of truth - that, what remains in us from our ancestors is to enter, break into the body of another person and wash ourselves not only with his flesh, but also with his blood. Maybe that’s why men are so drawn to girls - to wash their penis with young hot blood...

[orange@]

Hmm....the passage is of course very touching..it even looks like "Lolita", but I still meant real stories and not with such an age difference. And not when she is 14-16, he is over 35.
But it was interesting to read....
And yet this is someone’s fantasy, and not a real incident or moment... :(

[Arhivarius]

And yet this is someone’s fantasy, and not a real incident or moment

fantasy or not is unknown. Eduard Topol knows about this for sure.

And about virginity. I would like to try to hack a girl of about 18 for a change... And once upon a time in my youth I wanted such a profession as “deflorator”

[PrematureCum]

Probably sex with a virgin is good and pleasant, but not in my case. I myself was a late virgin and was able to begin sexual activity only thanks to the help of an experienced and very kind woman. I can’t cheat on her with a virgin or anyone else.

[Axler]

I have had both virgins and not. And in fact it is a very controversial topic. I will try to describe as cynically as possible, for ease of discussion, the actual question.
"Advantages" of virgins
- In most cases - young girls with an attractive body
- Most often they try very hard, because they want to make a good impression
n- Psychological aspect - it’s nice to know that you are the first, so to speak
- Indirect plus - the likelihood of STDs is still lower (and don’t tell me about protection, no protection gives a 100% guarantee of safety)

"Disadvantages" of virgins
- Stiffness, embarrassment, fears. In fact, even if a girl is 100% confident in her partner and wants to lose her virginity, there is no escape from jitters, and for me, as a guy, you turn from a lover into some kind of mentor, which means your perception is already changing
- It also happens that a girl doesn’t really understand why she needs this. Or, let’s say, he goes for it “because it’s time, otherwise I’ll remain an old maid.” In short, the motivation is wrong, which means nothing good will come of it
- Often they not only don’t know how to behave with a partner, but they also don’t know anything about themselves . They don’t know their preferences, they don’t know their body, which means the likelihood of getting pleasure is much lower, because... In my deep conviction, sex is a game between two partners, and if one is a “philonite”, then it’s a pipedream

[Slavaregy]

First sex with my future wife. We were just dating then. We were 17 years old. My friends and I went to relax at the dacha. It was summer and quite warm. Everyone went to bed in the same room, and we slept on the balcony.
Kisses and hugs turned into caresses of the whole body. The desire was at its limit for both. We had sex without a condom, so in the morning we ran to the pharmacy to buy Postinor.
The sex itself was short due to overstimulation and pain. They repeated it only 11 days later. The second time was long and different.
It’s nice to realize that you are the first. It greatly increased my self-esteem.

[Dimon_ya]

Even though I grew up in an almost Muslim country, I am indifferent to virginity. Although, there was experience. Twice. To repeat it - well, I don’t know, I doubt it. Walking like this consciously is probably not the case. But if you like the girl... Although, what am I talking about... I’m married

[Mr.hamsterrr]

There is one virgin on my account) I met her on Mamba in the classifieds section, where there are no photos by email. There was not a word about sex in the ad, just friendship, maybe s/o, something like that, I don’t remember exactly. We went for a walk around the city, then we talked a lot on the phone, I invited her to visit me to have sex, and at first she laughed it off, and then said that she was a virgin and in general didn’t mind, but she didn’t know how, she was worried about how it would pass. As a result, we sat, drank wine, kissed, I gave her cunnilingus and fucked her carefully. As she later said, at the moment of the breakup it was painful, but then pleasant. Then we fucked from time to time, drank beer and just talked. She and I had a type of open relationship and no one was offended.

Sent after 2 minutes 47 seconds:
The very idea of ​​sex with a virgin somehow doesn’t particularly excite me. I can’t say that I liked that sex either, it’s just an ordinary fuck) girls with experience in bed are much better, in general I like fucking with sluts) not with everyone, some just call the number, but there are a couple of numbers in the phone of really cool bitches who love sex, know how to handle a penis.

[Tpoo]

I was with a girl for 17 years. At first we just talked. And then she came and fucked her. I caressed her pussy so much that I wanted to jump on the dick myself. He entered that she didn’t notice much pain.

[orange@]

. For a change, I would like to try to hack a girl of about 18...

Why exactly this age category? What is the difference ? In addition to the young body....

Sent after 38 minutes 58 seconds:
Mr.hamsterrr: how old were you and that girl at that time, if it’s not a secret?
Well, if you mean one-time or open relationship, then I agree that it’s better to have an experienced one, or definitely not a girl)
But if you liked the girl, feelings are everything, it would probably be nice to know that it’s you first .. ?

[FUCKYAMATERITY]

It would probably be nice to realize that you are the first.. ?

Stereotype. Meaningless outside of multicultural communities, well, territories.

Sent after 4 minutes 41 seconds:
Axler, very good sensible. I just don’t know whether to share practical examples))

Sent after 56 minutes 32 seconds:
Okay, I’ll tell you. There were two who had the first one. It’s boring and dull. You spend a long time courting each other like a teenager, you just kiss for a long time, then you touch each other for a long time and one day you stroke each other with more than just your hand)) There’s no point, it would be better to go to a tavern and pick up the skilled ones, not even for money. There was a semblance of love - no, not with just anyone, only with this one and forever))
But there were more secondary “virgins.” Who, with their undisclosed libido and looking at their girlfriends fucking, also wanted to be like them and once or twice had sex with someone. No pleasure at all, just imitating. But they didn’t really like it and didn’t understand it. Then they understood after talking to me)

[Arhivarius]

. For a change, I would like to try to hack a girl of about 18...

Why exactly this age category? What is the difference ? Apart from the young body....


I would like to be with an inexperienced partner. And the more inexperienced and younger the more interesting it is for me. The main thing is that the girl herself wants it.

[orange@]

Archivarius. It’s clear about youth. Does inexperience depend on age? (Just personal interest)
If it’s not a secret, how old are you?

Sent after 7 minutes 4 seconds:
Arhivarius and forgot to ask ..what is the interest?

Sent after 5 minutes 31 seconds:
FUCKYAMATERITY thank you for such a clear and detailed answer. And then there is so much talk about virginity.... Especially when we discuss it in the company of friends, the guys really care about the girls. And I became interested in hearing, so to speak, third-party opinions of "experienced or seasoned" men in this business))) that is why the survey was created

[Axler]

Apelsink@, but in fact men "drown "for virgins (especially like in your company) just to show your "maleness". So, he seduced a girl and brought her into the adult world. Like, she didn’t want to go before me, but with me... and so on down the list. And, well, yes, many guys “love” virgins because of their own complexes, and the girl has nothing to compare with (although it’s complete nonsense. There may be nothing to compare with, but there’s no return)
There are essentially no practical advantages (except for a lower risk of STDs).

[orange@]

Axler, by the way, yes, even if there is no one to compare with, you still feel either the temperament is not the same or lack of experience. It’s like mine
It seemed like everyone was bragging that he was “alpha-samEts” (apparently he was inflating the price) ... but in fact, the first time I screwed up, that I had to take the initiative into my own hands and not only my hands
And so we lived for some time, then I realized that there was no more this is impossible to tolerate. Gone.
And I met a normal guy who revealed to me all the delights of "love"

Sent after 5 minutes 14 seconds:
Axler thanks for your earlier frank answer :smile340: seemed to be sending a message....oh well.

[Keep the change for yourself]

I had an experience with a virgin. Eventually she became my wife.
I didn’t feel anything supernatural other than the presence of blood. Well, a little stiffness from her, for the first time after all.

[Axler]

I didn’t feel anything supernatural other than the presence of blood.

In fact, in the modern world, the presence of blood during the first sexual intercourse is more the exception than the rule.
Firstly, blood appears only with fairly rough penetration (this is already a stone in the garden of a male partner) due to tears in the hymen, which de facto is simply an injury.
Secondly, many girls stretch this very hymen long before the first sexual intercourse with fingers and/or toys.
Thirdly, the hymen is subject to stretching when using certain types of hygiene
Fourth, today many girls engage in active sports, which also contributes to the stretching of the hymen, and, as a result, the lack of blood.
So, according to the research of S. Jean. "Physical Examination" 54% of the 2714 girls surveyed said that they had no bleeding at all, and more than 21% reported only small, "drip" discharge of ichor.

[Megapups]

The value of virginity is greatly exaggerated. My wife was a girl, the first sexual intercourse did not cause any positive emotions. Pain, tears and blood. So-so experience.

[Mr.hamsterrr]

Mr.hamsterrr : how old were you and that girl at that time, if it’s not a secret?
Well, if you mean one-time or open relationship, then I agree that it’s better to have an experienced one, or definitely not a girl)
But if you liked a girl, feelings are everything, it would probably be nice to realize that you are the first..?

I am 28, she is 20
Yes, of course, if I fall in love with a girl and it turns out that I’m her first, this will give the relationship a special charm)

[Ulof]

I had sex with a virgin and it was much worse than ordinary sex.
The main thing is not to get a buzz, but to introduce the girl into the world of hardcore pleasures and try so that she has good memories and impressions from the first time

[Andrey Lukashov]

The value of virginity is greatly exaggerated. My wife was a girl, the first sexual intercourse did not cause any positive emotions. Pain, tears and blood. So-so experience.

Then I understand that I was luckier in this regard. Neither the first nor the second wife were virgins.

[DON]

I had sex with a virgin and it was much worse than ordinary sex.
The main thing is not to get a buzz, but to introduce the girl into the world of hardcore pleasures and try so that she has good memories and impressions from the first time

What is he worse? On the contrary, I think it’s more pleasant, because it’s narrower. And most importantly, you are the first and main lover for her entire life, these are her very first sexual emotions and sensations.

[Axler]

I think on the contrary, he is more pleasant, because she is narrower.

"Oh, these fairy tales, oh, these storytellers"...
The vagina is a muscular formation, with all that it implies. And first of all, it depends not on the number of partners, but on the size of the girl herself! In second place is the presence of childbirth. Which is clear without explanation. In third place is tone. Training, that is. There is a wonderful exercise called Kegel. And only in last, fourth place is the number of sexual partners. And even then it’s a stretch. So, on average, a girl who is not sexually active has a diameter of about 2.5-3 cm, while a girl who is sexually active has a diameter of 3-4 cm. It does not so much increase as adapt to the partner. Therefore, if a girl stops having sex for a long time, she will become “narrow” again.
This raises a number of questions: is everything so bad with you that a difference in diameter of 2.5 or 4 cm is critical? Or do you just like torturing girls, causing them pain?

[Ulof]

Why is he worse? On the contrary, I think it’s more pleasant, because it’s narrower. And most importantly, you are the first and main lover for her entire life, these are her very first sexual emotions and sensations.

The fact that not every virgin enjoys first sex purely physiologically. That is, the program is as easy and simple as possible.
The fact that I am the first only imposes responsibility and there were no thoughts regarding my coolness)

[DON]

Why is it worse? On the contrary, I think it’s more pleasant, because it’s narrower. And most importantly, you are the first and main lover for her entire life, these are her very first sexual emotions and sensations.

The fact that not every virgin enjoys first sex purely physiologically. That is, the program is as easy and simple as possible.
The fact that I am the first only imposes responsibility and there were no thoughts regarding my coolness)

The fact of the matter is that first you need to deliver her pleasure, so that she feels not just a penis, but an object of satisfaction. And responsibility, of course, is the man’s responsibility for her well-being in her future sexual life.

[ololohov]

Usually I avoided virgins) let others print it out) I loved experienced girls))

[Wanderer]

So yes, you can teach her what interests you, and the way you want
But you should think about her perceptions and feelings more than about your own :(

[FUCKYAMATERITY]

Thank you for such a clear and detailed answer.

Such a private youth experience, a fetish for virginity is still the lot of mature men)) But I see that many people also have this the experience doesn’t seem worthwhile, but rather overrated and archaic.
Here’s another one about another virgin, the episode is so short that I didn’t immediately remember. There was no dull long courtship with her; the younger sister of my girlfriend’s friend asked to deflower. I felt some excitement, but I also had doubts. She agreed not even out of desire, but thought that she would do it anyway since she made up her mind and would do better with me than with the devil knows who.))
The introduction was long, the cunnilingus surprised her. But everything went easily, I only winced at the beginning, then my face was very thoughtful, like that of a diligent student, I was aware of the sensations.
A week later they repeated it, they were much more active each time, they started to wave. It didn’t last long, just a few times; neither she nor I had any intention of continuing such a relationship. Maybe it was in vain that she turned out to be talented; not everyone learns so quickly.

[niqk]

As in sex in general, there is a very wide range of sensations during defloration. From terrible pain and streams of blood, to
quite pleasant sensations and a slight smudge on the penis. And girls behave very differently. From wild tightness
to outright lust. And most importantly, a lot depends on men, who also behave differently. From
the arrogance of an alpha male to the terrible jitters of a pioneer. In general, defloration is a real art, which should be taught in special courses: starting from the psychology of a virgin to various techniques of physical defloration...

[DON]

As in sex in general, there is a very wide range of sensations during defloration. From terrible pain and streams of blood, to
quite pleasant sensations and a slight smudge on the penis. And girls behave very differently. From wild tightness
to outright lust. And most importantly, a lot depends on men, who also behave differently. From
the arrogance of an alpha male to the terrible jitters of a pioneer. In general, defloration is a real art, which should be taught in special courses: starting from the psychology of a virgin to various techniques of physical defloration...

Blood flows! Just like in horror movies! How are you going to take your virginity?

[Axler]

How are you going to deflower

Bring in flugenheimen!
You need to register to see the link.

[niqk]

DON, And how? Do you have any ideas about how we are going to take virginity?

[DON]

DON, And how? Do you have any ideas about how we are going to take virginity?

Perverts! What more can be said!

[niqk]

DON, i.e. do you think deflowering perversion? Cool!

[AndyAndy]

A virgin can also be a potential slut So there is no need to have illusions..))
And so, one virgin, but there was no blood and in general, a lot of doubts..))

[Let’s]

There have never been any virgins in my life. I would try for a change, but to say that I’m drawn to it or have an irresistible desire - no.

[FUCKYAMATERITY]

A virgin can also be a potential slut

nBut of course! But first I have to start)) There was a period when I fucked quite a lot of young girls who had just begun their sexual life. They didn’t want any relationship, just this category of researchers: to have sex once or twice and then continue to learn how it happens, on another penis. Surely they calm down later and they weren’t the majority, but they came across them regularly, more often than not by chance.

[AndyAndy]

how! But first I have to start))

I agree! Does it really happen that a virgin has no blood? Let’s leave theatrical abilities in brackets..))
As for sensations, I’m cut off, and accordingly the sensations are at most underestimated((

[FUCKYAMATERITY]

Does it really happen that a virgin has no blood?

They say yes. I didn’t discuss them with all of my friends for the first time)) For my two, one gave out no more than during non-intense periods, the other didn’t even show enough to stain the sheets, everything was left at the end.

Sent after 9 minutes 53 seconds:

Theatrical abilities will be left

These can)) They portrayed, one even cried about "virginity" and immediately pestered again Beginners, the second-third man. And the manipulations are so funny and transparent) When else do they consider this a value and can do such stupid things.

[Axler]

Does it really happen that a virgin has no blood?

I wrote above, you can look. But in short, the blood is due to a tear (that is, injury) of the hymen. If a girl, due to some circumstances (active sports or toys/hand), stretches her hymen, then there will be no blood. Well, unless of course you run into it.

[FUCKYAMATERITY]

I wrote above,

Medicine, which you may not be familiar with. And without it you can understand how it practically happens. If you are not a blockhead poking at all living things or not, understanding that a woman also feels it will be easier there. And not only doctors fuck well))

Sent after 15 minutes 38 seconds:

For a change I would try

I didn’t lose anything)) I remembered another one, which I deflowered with my fingers)) It’s rare when they quickly understand what and how, genetics and everyone’s physiology is different. One leaks from touch at the age of 15, the other only learns about orgasm after giving birth at 35.
Not everyone is interested in teaching a fool from scratch, but some might be interested in this too.

[Ahtung]

I took the virginity of 3 girls, 21 years old, 17 and 24 years old. Of course, this is still a hassle, everyone is expecting wild pain and a bucket of blood, although in fact, if the girl is properly prepared, aroused and the penis is carefully inserted, without sharp thrusts, then everything turns out very humanely, there is a minimum of blood, so it’s some kind of daub. About female orgasm for the first time I think it’s fiction, girls even on the 10th time still feel stiffness, but are not relaxed, it’s difficult to get an orgasm, for you it’s emotional and not mechanically like with men

[Lerunchik]

There is a good description of deflowering in the book by Eduard Topol.
Beautifully written, I used to jerk off to his stories for a long time.
Here are excerpts from his book:

Oh, these tiny, fresh, like an unopened bud, lower lips!

Pink clitoris covered with a wonderful soft fluff in the bosom of girlish, still children’s legs!

A craftily closed tiny vagina is not yet a vagina at all, since you put it there yet - nothing is possible, but at least you want it!

In the famous Black Sea pioneer camp there were two thousand of these seductively young girls, bashfully hidden, fiercely guarded and carelessly teasing.

They marched to the loud crack of drums on pioneer lines, went on hiking trips, sunbathed on the beaches, swam in the sea, played volleyball and tennis, devoured fruit in the huge dining room, sang evening songs around the fires, kissed young fifteen-year-olds Komsomol members in the dark alleys of the park and on the night beaches and again marched past my windows in pioneer ties, short shorts and T-shirts, under which strong young breasts boldly bulged.

We, the creative delegation of Moscow Television, were guests of the camp, and I was the administrator of this delegation.

More:
Among the three and a half thousand teenagers in this camp, there were probably two thousand girls, of which at least a thousand were between fourteen and sixteen years old. It doesn’t take much imagination to imagine this host of tanned Lolitas and nymphets who frolicked around us on the beach, squealed as they entered the sea, played volleyball or sunbathed on the hot yellow sand.

nNaked, in tight panties and the same narrow stripes of colored bras, under which young, strong breasts boldly bulged. About thirty percent of these girls were quite suitable for the covers of Fifteen and Seventeen magazines or Bloomingdale’s catalogs, and, God, with what wolfish eyes we adults devoured this young, juicy, fresh flesh!

Sent after 15 minutes 39 seconds:
Next:
Confident that my meeting with the girl would not take place that evening, I was about to go to bed, but at that moment the light click of heels on the concrete alley alerted my ears.

She was running.

Even by the click of heels, I realized that it was her. There was something airy and light, Assolevsky in this fast run. And I was not mistaken - she fluttered into the strip of light near the gazebo - naively funny and charming in these short pioneer shorts, in the same storm jacket as Seryozha’s - the camp uniform, with a pioneer tie on a white blouse and... high-heeled shoes.

“H-h...h-h...hello...” she said, trembling, and her radiant eyes looked down.

More: A fourteen-year-old creature does not want to be considered a child; out of a spirit of contradiction, she will do everything to prove that she is not a child, not a child, but already an adult. And about fifteen minutes later, when we were drinking tea with cognac, she said almost angrily:

- You don’t need to say “baby” to me. I’m not a child.

– Well, I’m teasing you. But, actually, you are, of course, a child. You don’t even know how to kiss.

– Why do you think so?

– Well, if you kissed boys several times at school, that’s doesn’t mean you can do anything. But we’ll check now,” I walked up to her, in one movement picked her up and moved her onto the sofa – like a doll, she didn’t even have time to get scared. - Like this. You are sitting here and I am next to you. But I’m sleeping. I am a tired soldier, I just came home from the front, I walked and drove a thousand kilometers, and then I came home and fell asleep. And you need to wake me up, you are my wife, you need to wake me up - I don’t know why, you can figure it out yourself - maybe the collective farm chairman is calling me or the district committee is calling me - it doesn’t matter. Well, how are you going to wake me, a tired soldier?

And I lay down on the sofa, closed my eyes.

She sat above me, thinking .

I “slept”, even whistling a little, and waited, waited for quite a long time, but then - a quiet, birdlike, almost inaudible kiss touched my lips. I didn’t wake up. Her lips touched me again, and again - I did not move. And then she decisively pressed her lips onto my lips, captured my lips with a strong kiss, and although it was beautiful - it was a lilac kiss from her lilac lips - I immediately bucked my head and turned away.

“Well,” I said. - After all, he will suffocate in his sleep. And in general, out of fright, he can punch you in the face. No, that’s wrong. Look.

And I calmly, with strong hands, laid the baby in my place on the sofa:

- Now you are a soldier. Close your eyes, sleep.

She obediently closed her eyes.

I stood over her, and looked at her in the quiet twilight of the room. The slender hands of a ballerina, two pigtails with ribbons and this ridiculous pioneer tie, clasping her neck and with its ends covering the bulges of her still childish breasts that were just barely visible under the white shirt. I had to seduce and fuck this creature.

I stood over her and thought - is it necessary? How many tears and fuss there will be, somewhere in Saratov this girl has a father and mother almost my age, probably not bad guys - and now I’ll start treating their daughter.

Or maybe really no need?

Send her to camp now, let her go to sleep.

But... But someone will fuck her. It’s not me, but some rescuer from the rescue station will simply break his dick into these thin ballet legs, and what am I going to do with masturbation with my decency?

From the next room, dull, exhausted creaks were occasionally heard beds. There Valka has already fucked her fawn and straddled it, and is already jumping on it, frolicking, and here I am still playing a game...

Sent after 7 minutes 25 seconds:
- Well, what are you doing? – Natasha opened her eyes, and in those eyes I read challenge and mockery.
– Shh! - I said. – Close your eyes.
She closed it. I leaned over to her and slowly began to untie this idiotic pioneer tie.
I took it off, unbuttoned the buttons of her white uniform shirt, and then she opened her eyes again:
- What are you doing?
- Quiet, soldier, sleep. You just need to sleep freely, like this. And now I will start waking you up. Just don’t wake up right away, you have to wake up when something wakes up inside you. That’s when you feel something sinking in the pit of your stomach, or in your heart, or somewhere else - that’s when I woke you up. It’s clear? Sleep! I gave a minute pause so that her nerves would tense up in anticipation, and then I began to lightly, in one touch, stroke her shoulder, open neck, cheek with my fingers, straightened the hair on her forehead and again began to stroke the delicate skin of her neck , a fragile girl’s shoulder, and then leaned close to her, but did not kiss her yet, but peered into her closed eyes, disturbing her and exciting her with the closeness of his face. After all, she wasn’t sleeping. And the closeness of a man, his face, hands, breathing, his palm on her bare collarbone - she lay in front of me, like a hidden animal with her eyes closed, and I think she was simply scared to lie like that, naked and defenseless, in front of me, an adult a man. She even stopped breathing. And when I finally didn’t attack her, but only kissed her softly on the lips, it was probably like a pardon. She just took a breath of relief, and her lips responded to me with a slight elastic movement.
Now we were kissing seriously - I hugged her no longer like a soldier, and my hand authoritatively and calmly pulled out the bottom of her white shirt from her shorts and dived towards her breasts, to the narrow bra that is constricting her breasts.
- “Mmmm...” she hummed negatively under my kiss, but I had already felt the clasp under her shoulder blades and with one movement of my fingers unfastened the unnecessary bra.
- Mmmm... - she said weakly again with her mouth sealed with my lips, but my hand was already on her tiny, sweet, lemon-sized breast, however, even smaller than a lemon, it was almost possible to stay there no way, and I removed my hand, tore my face away from Natasha’s lips, took her under her arms and moved her onto my lap. She was as light as a doll.
“Chicken,” I said. - Let’s have a drink. You can pour me some cognac and some wine for yourself.
– Why do I need wine?
– Because you are not an alcoholic. You can’t have cognac. You’ll get drunk and you’ll be rowdy here.
Something intimate and trusting has already connected us - and kisses that were not at all acting, and my hand on her chest, and even the fact that she sits like that without resistance me on my knees - all this told me that I was walking at the right pace.
We drank a glass of cognac, and I kissed her again and realized that she really, really wanted to kiss - she clung to me with her whole body , and without hesitation I sat her on my lap astride her, so that her open legs clasped my loins, and her pubis rested against my Brother, who was still hidden behind my fly. I hugged her without removing my lips from the kiss. A pale face with closed eyes breathed intermittently into my face, our lips did not break, and my hands literally pressed her pubis and tummy into my loins. Then, stopping, I took off my shirt and her shirt (“Alive! Alive!” I told her. “This is in the way!”), and now the soft elastic balls of her girlish breasts were pressed against my chest. I lay down on the sofa and put her on top of me. Now this chicken was, as it were, the master of the situation, I did this in order not to frighten her, so that she would be calmer. We kissed, I stroked her shoulders, her back, I let go of her pigtails, turned her over on her back and tickled my face with her hair, and my hands covered her breasts with my palms, and then one hand dived down to her shorts and began to unfasten the buttons of her shorts. them on their side.
Natasha weakly resisted. I said quietly:
- Well, wait, wait, don’t be afraid...
I took off her shorts, she was left in only thin panties. Naked, in only transparent panties, she turned to me:
- I’m cold.
She was really shaking - either from excitement, or maybe she was really cold.
I raised and carried her to bed, covered her with a blanket, like a child, up to her chin, and then, in one motion, throwing off his pants and underpants, dived naked under the blanket with her. She recoiled against the wall, but I had already hugged her, pressed her to me, and her narrow body stretched along my body like a thin snake, and my Brother ended up somewhere under her knees.
We kissed. Her eyes were tightly closed, but our lips had long understood their simple work, they either caressed each other with dovelike tenderness, or dug into each other with the power of a vacuum pump, or even simply bit - lips biting lips. And again - greedy, passionate kisses.
Natasha was already breathing heavily, intermittently, her body seemed to vibrate in my hands from the shocks of her excited heart, belly, chest, and I periodically tore her lips away from me and kissed her shoulders , chest, stomach. To do this, I didn’t have to bend over to her under the blanket - we had already thrown it off a long time ago, and I simply took her under the arms and lifted her above me, bringing to my lips her small breasts, then her shoulders, then her belly, and then her curly, in small gold pubic curls. As a deft barber moves a razor along a sharpening stone, so I moved it, weightless, over my body, kissing and exciting everything that fell on my lips - elastic brown papillae, a tightly curled navel and its surroundings, and curly pubis with tiny, almost undeveloped clitoris. The lips of her vagina were closed like the flaps of a shell - neither with my lips nor with my tongue could I even open these narrow pads. When my tongue touched the warm, compressed lips, Natasha shuddered and froze above me with frozen breath, and not a single vein trembled on her body under my hands. In my opinion, her heart simply stopped at that moment - from fear, from excitement, from pleasure.
And then I slowly turned her over me, turning her head towards my rearing Brother. I laid her on top of me, took her by the hands and with these childish palms forced her to hug my Younger Brother, and almost immediately I felt her little hot lips on him. Holding onto him with both hands, like a Pioneer bugle, she kissed him, and then... Really, it was like how one-year-old babies cling to a bottle with a nipple, - Natasha held my Brother with both hands, in a girth, and diligently, smacking his lips , swallowing saliva, sucked it. I felt not so much pleased as it was funny, and after a couple of minutes I interrupted this procedure. Now sucked and wet, my Brother was ready for the next operation. I again picked Natasha up in my arms, turned her to face me, kissed her hot, wet lips and asked:
-Are you not afraid?
She was silent, without opening her eyes. Maybe she didn’t understand what I was asking, or didn’t hear me at all, but the second time I didn’t ask, I took her by the legs, strengthened her left foot near my right thigh and the right foot near my left and made her body squat. right above his Little Brother. And then, holding her by her tiny, narrow hips, I began to bring her closer to him, and when what I call my Younger Brother touched her Younger Sister, I felt Natasha turn to stone in my hands, shrink, her thin elbows a natural impulse pressed against my stomach.
“Don’t be afraid,” I said. - Don’t be afraid. Nothing will happen now. It doesn’t happen like that. Don’t be afraid. Just let them kiss slowly...
Thin, tiny, she easily raised her body above me and just as slowly lowered it, and the tiny lips of her Sister really only kissed my Brother with a soft touch. And I held her waist, helping her make these ritually slow movements and watching her. She breathed in rhythm with her movements. The eyes are closed, wet lips are partly open, and white, milk-like teeth gleam in the dark, and the diligent body warily, sensitively sinks to a teasingly fatal limit.
But I was in no hurry to cross this fatal line, I was thinking. I lay under her, listening and feeling how intermittently, intensely this excited little body was breathing, feeling how her Little Sister’s lips had already given in, opened and my Brother was now resting against something harder. I understood that at any moment I could simply break her virginity, fuck her, make her a woman. But I was thinking. Cowardice. Ordinary cowardice knocked on my brain with the voice of the so-called conscience. "If necessary? Why do you need it? - I told myself. - Think what will happen tomorrow if someone finds out, if they get to the studio - after all, they will be kicked out of work, put on trial for child molestation, ten years in prison - for what? For this little one? Why do you need this? Stop it, stop...” But my hands... my hands continued their work, and the voice of the rebel Younger Brother was already beyond reason. Natasha fell on my chest and whispered:
- I’m tired...
I kissed her tenderly, like a daughter. And then, quiet and tired, he laid her on her back next to me, rose above her and, leaning on her hands, lay down on her, spreading her thin legs to the sides with her legs. She tried to squeeze those legs with a last, hopelessly submissive attempt, but I said: “Wait, don’t interfere, everything will be fine,” and with my hands I also raised her knees to open a straight path for my Brother. Now he, my Brother, gently floated onto her, wetly touched her warm lips and imperiously, persistently, but slowly pressed into her tiny, still closed slit. I felt that I was already at the limit, and only with some special effort of will I switched my attention to something extraneous.
A quiet, shuddering creature, waiting for pain, lay under me with tightly compressed eyelids, with linen eyes scattered across the pillow. hair, with open lips, a thin neck, fragile shoulders and an uneven breathing chest. “Cum on her stomach! – I shouted to myself. – Cum on her stomach and don’t suffer! Why the hell do you need all this - after all, you don’t go in there now, you’ll suffer the whole night and won’t go in...”
But then a new surge of lust threw away these thoughts like a hot wave, my Brother tensed up with another rush of blood, and I, already without hesitation, controlled no longer by the brain, but by a dark and ancient instinct, he began to introduce his Brother into the slightly open lips of her slit with all the strength of his legs and hips. If anyone claims that humanity has already emerged from cave age, do not believe it. Isn’t every man dreaming about this cavernous moment of violence against virginity?..
Natasha moaned, I immediately grabbed her mouth with my hand and clamped it with my palm so as to allow her teeth to bite into my palm if she really wanted it hurt, and she tossed her head around on the pillow, but I stopped that too and only heard her moan from under my palm, and meanwhile my Brother continued to aggressively and powerfully push the mouth of her slit apart. I felt like inside this gap some cartilages were reluctantly moving apart, moving apart, and finally - oh, a fantastically divine, fabulously sweet moment of PENETRATION. I didn’t feel how I tore her film of virginity, nor how she screamed under my palm - I felt such immense bliss from the warm, hot flesh around my penis that I came at that very second, barely having time to pull Brother out of her body. Powerful surges of sperm poured out of him with such force that they flooded her neck, chest, and chin. Then, when I fell on the bed next to her, felt with my hand the towel at the head of the bed and began to wipe her and myself with it, I saw blood on my Brother - her blood.
Yes, this is the moment of truth - that, what remains in us from our ancestors is to enter, break into the body of another person and wash ourselves not only with his flesh, but also with his blood. Maybe that’s why men are so drawn to girls - to wash their penis with young hot blood...

Thank you, I jerked off

[racer]

There is a good description of deflowering in a book by Eduard Topol.
Beautifully written, I used to jerk off to his stories for a long time.
Here are excerpts from his book:

Oh, these tiny, fresh, like an unopened bud, lower lips!

Pink clitoris covered with a wonderful soft fluff in the bosom of girlish, still children’s legs!

A craftily closed tiny vagina is not yet a vagina at all, since you put it there yet - nothing is possible, but at least you want it!

In the famous Black Sea pioneer camp there were two thousand of these seductively young girls, bashfully hidden, fiercely guarded and carelessly teasing.

They marched to the loud crack of drums on pioneer lines, went on hiking trips, sunbathed on the beaches, swam in the sea, played volleyball and tennis, devoured fruit in the huge dining room, sang evening songs around the fires, kissed young fifteen-year-olds Komsomol members in the dark alleys of the park and on the night beaches and again marched past my windows in pioneer ties, short shorts and T-shirts, under which strong young breasts boldly bulged.

We, the creative delegation of Moscow Television, were guests of the camp, and I was the administrator of this delegation.

More:
Among the three and a half thousand teenagers in this camp, there were probably two thousand girls, of which at least a thousand were between fourteen and sixteen years old. It doesn’t take much imagination to imagine this host of tanned Lolitas and nymphets who frolicked around us on the beach, squealed as they entered the sea, played volleyball or sunbathed on the hot yellow sand.

nNaked, in tight panties and the same narrow stripes of colored bras, under which young, strong breasts boldly bulged. About thirty percent of these girls were quite suitable for the covers of Fifteen and Seventeen magazines or Bloomingdale’s catalogs, and, God, with what wolfish eyes we adults devoured this young, juicy, fresh flesh!

Sent after 15 minutes 39 seconds:
Next:
Confident that my meeting with the girl would not take place that evening, I was about to go to bed, but at that moment the light click of heels on the concrete alley alerted my ears.

She was running.

Even by the click of heels, I realized that it was her. There was something airy and light, Assolevsky in this fast run. And I was not mistaken - she fluttered into the strip of light near the gazebo - naively funny and charming in these short pioneer shorts, in the same storm jacket as Seryozha’s - the camp uniform, with a pioneer tie on a white blouse and... high-heeled shoes.

“H-h...h-h...hello...” she said, trembling, and her radiant eyes looked down.

More: A fourteen-year-old creature does not want to be considered a child; out of a spirit of contradiction, she will do everything to prove that she is not a child, not a child, but already an adult. And about fifteen minutes later, when we were drinking tea with cognac, she said almost angrily:

- You don’t need to say “baby” to me. I’m not a child.

– Well, I’m teasing you. But, actually, you are, of course, a child. You don’t even know how to kiss.

– Why do you think so?

– Well, if you kissed boys several times at school, that’s doesn’t mean you can do anything. But we’ll check now,” I walked up to her, in one movement picked her up and moved her onto the sofa – like a doll, she didn’t even have time to get scared. - Like this. You are sitting here and I am next to you. But I’m sleeping. I am a tired soldier, I just came home from the front, I walked and drove a thousand kilometers, and then I came home and fell asleep. And you need to wake me up, you are my wife, you need to wake me up - I don’t know why, you can figure it out yourself - maybe the collective farm chairman is calling me or the district committee is calling me - it doesn’t matter. Well, how are you going to wake me, a tired soldier?

And I lay down on the sofa, closed my eyes.

She sat above me, thinking .

I “slept”, even whistling a little, and waited, waited for quite a long time, but then - a quiet, birdlike, almost inaudible kiss touched my lips. I didn’t wake up. Her lips touched me again, and again - I did not move. And then she decisively pressed her lips onto my lips, captured my lips with a strong kiss, and although it was beautiful - it was a lilac kiss from her lilac lips - I immediately bucked my head and turned away.

“Well,” I said. - After all, he will suffocate in his sleep. And in general, out of fright, he can punch you in the face. No, that’s wrong. Look.

And I calmly, with strong hands, laid the baby in my place on the sofa:

- Now you are a soldier. Close your eyes, sleep.

She obediently closed her eyes.

I stood over her, and looked at her in the quiet twilight of the room. The slender hands of a ballerina, two pigtails with ribbons and this ridiculous pioneer tie, clasping her neck and with its ends covering the bulges of her still childish breasts that were just barely visible under the white shirt. I had to seduce and fuck this creature.

I stood over her and thought - is it necessary? How many tears and fuss there will be, somewhere in Saratov this girl has a father and mother almost my age, probably not bad guys - and now I’ll start treating their daughter.

Or maybe really no need?

Send her to camp now, let her go to sleep.

But... But someone will fuck her. It’s not me, but some rescuer from the rescue station will simply break his dick into these thin ballet legs, and what am I going to do with masturbation with my decency?

From the next room, dull, exhausted creaks were occasionally heard beds. There Valka has already fucked her fawn and straddled it, and is already jumping on it, frolicking, and here I am still playing a game...

Sent after 7 minutes 25 seconds:
- Well, what are you doing? – Natasha opened her eyes, and in those eyes I read challenge and mockery.
– Shh! - I said. – Close your eyes.
She closed it. I leaned over to her and slowly began to untie this idiotic pioneer tie.
I took it off, unbuttoned the buttons of her white uniform shirt, and then she opened her eyes again:
- What are you doing?
- Quiet, soldier, sleep. You just need to sleep freely, like this. And now I will start waking you up. Just don’t wake up right away, you have to wake up when something wakes up inside you. That’s when you feel something sinking in the pit of your stomach, or in your heart, or somewhere else - that’s when I woke you up. It’s clear? Sleep! I gave a minute pause so that her nerves would tense up in anticipation, and then I began to lightly, in one touch, stroke her shoulder, open neck, cheek with my fingers, straightened the hair on her forehead and again began to stroke the delicate skin of her neck , a fragile girl’s shoulder, and then leaned close to her, but did not kiss her yet, but peered into her closed eyes, disturbing her and exciting her with the closeness of his face. After all, she wasn’t sleeping. And the closeness of a man, his face, hands, breathing, his palm on her bare collarbone - she lay in front of me, like a hidden animal with her eyes closed, and I think she was simply scared to lie like that, naked and defenseless, in front of me, an adult a man. She even stopped breathing. And when I finally didn’t attack her, but only kissed her softly on the lips, it was probably like a pardon. She just took a breath of relief, and her lips responded to me with a slight elastic movement.
Now we were kissing seriously - I hugged her no longer like a soldier, and my hand authoritatively and calmly pulled out the bottom of her white shirt from her shorts and dived towards her breasts, to the narrow bra that is constricting her breasts.
- “Mmmm...” she hummed negatively under my kiss, but I had already felt the clasp under her shoulder blades and with one movement of my fingers unfastened the unnecessary bra.
- Mmmm... - she said weakly again with her mouth sealed with my lips, but my hand was already on her tiny, sweet, lemon-sized breast, however, even smaller than a lemon, it was almost possible to stay there no way, and I removed my hand, tore my face away from Natasha’s lips, took her under her arms and moved her onto my lap. She was as light as a doll.
“Chicken,” I said. - Let’s have a drink. You can pour me some cognac and some wine for yourself.
– Why do I need wine?
– Because you are not an alcoholic. You can’t have cognac. You’ll get drunk and you’ll be rowdy here.
Something intimate and trusting has already connected us - and kisses that were not at all acting, and my hand on her chest, and even the fact that she sits like that without resistance me on my knees - all this told me that I was walking at the right pace.
We drank a glass of cognac, and I kissed her again and realized that she really, really wanted to kiss - she clung to me with her whole body , and without hesitation I sat her on my lap astride her, so that her open legs clasped my loins, and her pubis rested against my Brother, who was still hidden behind my fly. I hugged her without removing my lips from the kiss. A pale face with closed eyes breathed intermittently into my face, our lips did not break, and my hands literally pressed her pubis and tummy into my loins. Then, stopping, I took off my shirt and her shirt (“Alive! Alive!” I told her. “This is in the way!”), and now the soft elastic balls of her girlish breasts were pressed against my chest. I lay down on the sofa and put her on top of me. Now this chicken was, as it were, the master of the situation, I did this in order not to frighten her, so that she would be calmer. We kissed, I stroked her shoulders, her back, I let go of her pigtails, turned her over on her back and tickled my face with her hair, and my hands covered her breasts with my palms, and then one hand dived down to her shorts and began to unfasten the buttons of her shorts. them on their side.
Natasha weakly resisted. I said quietly:
- Well, wait, wait, don’t be afraid...
I took off her shorts, she was left in only thin panties. Naked, in only transparent panties, she turned to me:
- I’m cold.
She was really shaking - either from excitement, or maybe she was really cold.
I raised and carried her to bed, covered her with a blanket, like a child, up to her chin, and then, in one motion, throwing off his pants and underpants, dived naked under the blanket with her. She recoiled against the wall, but I had already hugged her, pressed her to me, and her narrow body stretched along my body like a thin snake, and my Brother ended up somewhere under her knees.
We kissed. Her eyes were tightly closed, but our lips had long understood their simple work, they either caressed each other with dovelike tenderness, or dug into each other with the power of a vacuum pump, or even simply bit - lips biting lips. And again - greedy, passionate kisses.
Natasha was already breathing heavily, intermittently, her body seemed to vibrate in my hands from the shocks of her excited heart, belly, chest, and I periodically tore her lips away from me and kissed her shoulders , chest, stomach. To do this, I didn’t have to bend over to her under the blanket - we had already thrown it off a long time ago, and I simply took her under the arms and lifted her above me, bringing to my lips her small breasts, then her shoulders, then her belly, and then her curly, in small gold pubic curls. As a deft barber moves a razor along a sharpening stone, so I moved it, weightless, over my body, kissing and exciting everything that fell on my lips - elastic brown papillae, a tightly curled navel and its surroundings, and curly pubis with tiny, almost undeveloped clitoris. The lips of her vagina were closed like the flaps of a shell - neither with my lips nor with my tongue could I even open these narrow pads. When my tongue touched the warm, compressed lips, Natasha shuddered and froze above me with frozen breath, and not a single vein trembled on her body under my hands. In my opinion, her heart simply stopped at that moment - from fear, from excitement, from pleasure.
And then I slowly turned her over me, turning her head towards my rearing Brother. I laid her on top of me, took her by the hands and with these childish palms forced her to hug my Younger Brother, and almost immediately I felt her little hot lips on him. Holding onto him with both hands, like a Pioneer bugle, she kissed him, and then... Really, it was like how one-year-old babies cling to a bottle with a nipple, - Natasha held my Brother with both hands, in a girth, and diligently, smacking his lips , swallowing saliva, sucked it. I felt not so much pleased as it was funny, and after a couple of minutes I interrupted this procedure. Now sucked and wet, my Brother was ready for the next operation. I again picked Natasha up in my arms, turned her to face me, kissed her hot, wet lips and asked:
-Are you not afraid?
She was silent, without opening her eyes. Maybe she didn’t understand what I was asking, or didn’t hear me at all, but the second time I didn’t ask, I took her by the legs, strengthened her left foot near my right thigh and the right foot near my left and made her body squat. right above his Little Brother. And then, holding her by her tiny, narrow hips, I began to bring her closer to him, and when what I call my Younger Brother touched her Younger Sister, I felt Natasha turn to stone in my hands, shrink, her thin elbows a natural impulse pressed against my stomach.
“Don’t be afraid,” I said. - Don’t be afraid. Nothing will happen now. It doesn’t happen like that. Don’t be afraid. Just let them kiss slowly...
Thin, tiny, she easily raised her body above me and just as slowly lowered it, and the tiny lips of her Sister really only kissed my Brother with a soft touch. And I held her waist, helping her make these ritually slow movements and watching her. She breathed in rhythm with her movements. The eyes are closed, wet lips are partly open, and white, milk-like teeth gleam in the dark, and the diligent body warily, sensitively sinks to a teasingly fatal limit.
But I was in no hurry to cross this fatal line, I was thinking. I lay under her, listening and feeling how intermittently, intensely this excited little body was breathing, feeling how her Little Sister’s lips had already given in, opened and my Brother was now resting against something harder. I understood that at any moment I could simply break her virginity, fuck her, make her a woman. But I was thinking. Cowardice. Ordinary cowardice knocked on my brain with the voice of the so-called conscience. "If necessary? Why do you need it? - I told myself. - Think what will happen tomorrow if someone finds out, if they get to the studio - after all, they will be kicked out of work, put on trial for child molestation, ten years in prison - for what? For this little one? Why do you need this? Stop it, stop...” But my hands... my hands continued their work, and the voice of the rebel Younger Brother was already beyond reason. Natasha fell on my chest and whispered:
- I’m tired...
I kissed her tenderly, like a daughter. And then, quiet and tired, he laid her on her back next to me, rose above her and, leaning on her hands, lay down on her, spreading her thin legs to the sides with her legs. She tried to squeeze those legs with a last, hopelessly submissive attempt, but I said: “Wait, don’t interfere, everything will be fine,” and with my hands I also raised her knees to open a straight path for my Brother. Now he, my Brother, gently floated onto her, wetly touched her warm lips and imperiously, persistently, but slowly pressed into her tiny, still closed slit. I felt that I was already at the limit, and only with some special effort of will I switched my attention to something extraneous.
A quiet, shuddering creature, waiting for pain, lay under me with tightly compressed eyelids, with linen eyes scattered across the pillow. hair, with open lips, a thin neck, fragile shoulders and an uneven breathing chest. “Cum on her stomach! – I shouted to myself. – Cum on her stomach and don’t suffer! Why the hell do you need all this - after all, you don’t go in there now, you’ll suffer the whole night and won’t go in...”
But then a new surge of lust threw away these thoughts like a hot wave, my Brother tensed up with another rush of blood, and I, already without hesitation, controlled no longer by the brain, but by a dark and ancient instinct, he began to introduce his Brother into the slightly open lips of her slit with all the strength of his legs and hips. If anyone claims that humanity has already emerged from cave age, do not believe it. Isn’t every man dreaming about this cavernous moment of violence against virginity?..
Natasha moaned, I immediately grabbed her mouth with my hand and clamped it with my palm so as to allow her teeth to bite into my palm if she really wanted it hurt, and she tossed her head around on the pillow, but I stopped that too and only heard her moan from under my palm, and meanwhile my Brother continued to aggressively and powerfully push the mouth of her slit apart. I felt like inside this gap some cartilages were reluctantly moving apart, moving apart, and finally - oh, a fantastically divine, fabulously sweet moment of PENETRATION. I didn’t feel how I tore her film of virginity, nor how she screamed under my palm - I felt such immense bliss from the warm, hot flesh around my penis that I came at that very second, barely having time to pull Brother out of her body. Powerful surges of sperm poured out of him with such force that they flooded her neck, chest, and chin. Then, when I fell on the bed next to her, felt with my hand the towel at the head of the bed and began to wipe her and myself with it, I saw blood on my Brother - her blood.
Yes, this is the moment of truth - that, what remains in us from our ancestors is to enter, break into the body of another person and wash ourselves not only with his flesh, but also with his blood. Maybe that’s why men are so drawn to girls - to wash their penis with young hot blood...

Thank you, I jerked off

nIt’s impossible not to love good erotic prose, especially about teenage experiences. The attraction to virgins in the vast majority of cases is at the level of instinct. Plus the desire to be the first and the best

[Veronica]

It’s a pity that it happens to be for the FIRST TIME. I don’t even remember the feeling. Quickly, gently (father was the first). But then it’s a celebration of soul and body. All holes work, and the MAIN one.

[Vladtsst]

The first wife was a virgin. They managed to take her virginity only on the fifth attempt. She pushed me away, said it was painful, I’m afraid she’s not ready yet. There wasn’t much blood. She drove me away and cried all day. There was no talk of any female orgasm. My opinion is that a woman having an orgasm for the first time is complete bullshit. Everyone said that no one liked the first time: fear, pain, severe or not, blood

[Lerunchik]

These virgins were given to you)) What did you see in them? Probably the most raving about virgins is who’s parents didn’t buy a puppy as a child? Like: "I’ll raise him, teach him commands, and all the boys in the yard will be jealous of me?"))))

[Amateur123]

Lerunchik, oh! And don’t say anything good. There were two, in a long life, it couldn’t have been better. It’s a hassle with them, but the pleasure is very doubtful.

[racer]

You were given these virgins)) What did you see in them? Probably the most raving about virgins is who’s parents didn’t buy a puppy as a child? Like: "I’ll raise him, teach him commands, and all the boys in the yard will be jealous of me?"))))

It’s just nice to at least be the first. All-male enclosure