First Time By MBK Everyone has a first time, many are hurried affairs in the back of a steamy car or in a bedroom under constant and excitement fear of discovery. Many come at the hands of someone your own age, the fumbling and shyness and embarrassment being part of the thrill of the moment. But sometimes that first time comes at the hands of one much older than yourself, and what would have been a brief journey with a girl, becomes a wonderful adventure with a woman. It happened to me that way, with a neighbor. This story is for Eager Beaver or anyone else to read and perhaps remember a time when ignorance was bliss and every touch pushed the envelope of experience to the edge and beyond. Mrs. Jenkins, Doris, was the wife of a large and gruff man, John. John was a concrete man and never really had two words to say to anyone including Doris. They lived next door to us in a rather unremarkable house that was all but paved over in beautiful concrete work. This was suburbia and it was 1969. Ours was like many of the endless housing tracts in Southern California, small low houses built right on top of one another. I had a bedroom on the sideyard of the house with a window that looked across a small stretch of ground, over a fence and into the bathroom window of the Jenkins house. On most mornings I could be awakened to the sound of John running the shower and making the noises one makes while getting ready for work. I usually turned over and tried to get a little more sleep. I had always dreamed, you know the kinds of dreams that give young men hard-ons in history class, about seeing Doris one day through the bathroom window. The trouble was that the bottom of their window was high, and the top of mine too low. So while I could hear her splashing about in the shower, seeing her was only in the line of sight of my imagination. Perhaps it was luck, perhaps destiny, I'm not sure that I pondered it as I was pulled into the attic of our house through the hatchway in my closet. I always hated going into the small cramped roof area. I suppose my father thought it would be fun for me to go with him into that hot, dusty place. It always smelled the way a car smells when following a bus down a dirt road. Kind of oily and dusty. The kind of smell that lingers on you long after you've come back down into the world of cool and light. It was during one of these expeditions that I discovered, what was to me, a window on my dreams. The side of the house that has no eaves, the hip side, was where my bedroom was. Unnoticed by me, there was, right above my head, a vent! As my father disappeared into the mist and dust toward some unknown destination, I moved over to the vent to try and grab a few breathes of fresh air from the outside. As I pressed my nose against the wire mesh that covered the louvers, I became aware the I could see into the side yard. Not only into the side yard, but the Jenkins side yards as well. My eyes rose a bit and there in all its glory, through the window on the wall stood the Jenkins toilet! Complete with yellow rugs and matching toilet paper. And right across from it just beyond the towel rack, I could see the shower. My imagination went wild, I knew instantly that this was the stuff of permanent erections and I began to plot. I was shaken awake by my father asking for some tool or another probably to be used in a way that it was never intended. My father was the kind that used a screwdriver to stir paint or a pipe wrench as a hammer. I scooted off toward his bellowing and more dust, but I was smiling, I had found my crystal ball. That evening I could hardly sleep. I had moved some boxes under the hatch so that I might gain access. I couldn't risk using the ladder. I had my dust clothes ready and a roll of toilet paper was there too. I wanted to be prepared. I suppose I fell asleep, but I was awake like a shot the instant the alarm that I had set went off. I lay in bed, heart pounding like a freight train, listening for the first splash of the shower next door. Just like clockwork, at 5am John came into the bathroom. My plan had been to wait until he was mostly done before I went into the roof. Even through all my excitement, the thought of the dust made me shiver. At last I heard him finishing up and I went into action. Up the boxes, move the hatch aside, pull myself into the attic. Smooth cat-like motions, I was a 15 year old version of the Spiderman, Batman, and Daredevil all rolled into one. As I made my way to the vent, I heard her enter the bathroom and close the door. I arrived at my perch just as she was looking into the mirror. She was wearing a somewhat faded flannel nightgown that went to the floor. She must have been about 42 or 43 three at the time, but to me she was Sophia Loren in the prime of life. She bent over to turn on the shower and all of a sudden she was pulling the nightgown over her head! She was there live, and nude in front of me, I had never seen a woman like this before. She had smooth white skin, her breasts hung down as she bent over the sink to brush her teeth, her round ass protruding out behind her. As she waited for the shower to warm, she sat on the closed toilet seat and began to clip her toenails. I nearly passed out as her legs spread and revealed a wonderful view of (my first) cunt! At this point I realized that I had not breathed in quite awhile and was getting light headed. I was a little confused, In the nudist magazines that I had sneaked a peek at in my uncle's house, the women always had great bushes of pubic hair sprouting from their pussys. But Doris had none. It took me a few minutes in my hormone overloaded state that she must shave herself. Sure enough, just before she entered the shower, she reached over to the sink and grabbed a razor. It was obvious to me that I had died and gone to heaven, no proof required. This scene repeated itself for the next few months. And although it was exciting, I began to long for more. I knew that their bedroom window faced a group of trees in their backyard and that you could climb them. Because of the privacy the trees afforded, Doris usually opened the curtains to the bedroom in the morning. I had seen her do this several times on Saturday morning as I cut the back lawn. What I didn't know was how early she opened them during the week. I was soon to find out. Rising before dawn, I positioned myself at the fence line, careful not to wake the Cornet's dog that lived behind us, and waited for some action. As I heard John pull out of the drive, and the sun began to rise, I saw the shades part and Doris's face appear in the window. I was frozen in place, luckily the sun came right into their room and must have blinded her to the sight of a cold but excited boy looking directly at her. The next morning I made my move. Why is it that when you're trying to be quiet, every sound is like a gunshot in a tunnel? I made my noisy way over the fence and hid in the bushes just below the window. The sound of a car, the swoosh of the curtains, I was ready and my heart just about jumped out and onto the ground. I rose up and peeked around the edge of the opened curtains. I could see the whole room save the door and part of the wall to my left. I had a full view of the bed, the closet and the dresser. A blur caught my left eye, she was coming in after her shower! It was her, in all her glory, and much bigger than from the vent! As she dried herself she started rummaging through the drawers of her dresser for something. What she pulled out about made my knees buckle, it was about a 10" dildo. (I knew what is was because I had seen ads for them in the skin magazines my friend James had hidden under his house.) I vowed right then and there that if I could watch for just a little longer I would join the priesthood and do nothing but chant and eat rice for the rest of my life. She moved to the bed, lay down and began to caress her breasts with the vibrating rod. Her hand moved to her cunt as her chest rose and fell with heavy breathing. She moved the thing over her nipples until they were hard and swollen. Her hand was moving faster as it dug between the lips of her pussy. As the dildo moved down her body, over her stomach, and across her thighs, I pulled out of my pants the biggest hard-on the western world had ever seen. I began to pump my cock as I watched, hypnotized by what I was seeing. I had no fear of getting caught, I was all eyes and cock. With a quick motion she plunged the dildo into her cunt and I squirted a gallon of cum all over an innocent bush. When I had recovered a bit I saw that she was riding the dildo with as much passion as I had ever seen in a woman. Even those grainy, fuzzy nasty movies weren't as good as this. She continued until her entire body was racked with spasm and she lay very still. I am still not sure what happened next. I must have not bent over quite far enough to pull up my pants, the top of my head must have been showing above the sill of the window. Anyway, when I rose to leave, I heard "Did you like what you saw?". It was Doris, standing in the window looking out at me. I felt as though every organ in my body had turned to stone and that I would never move again. I heard myself say yes, and I heard her say for me to come around again the next morning. Somehow I started to move toward the fence, but was told to use the gate. At that point I wasn't sure I could remember what a gate was let alone find it. But somehow I made it home. When I finally got back into my bed after what felt like years later, I knew I was going to have to hide another hard-on from Mrs. Quinn with my copy of World History, Volume one. Needless to say I got no sleep the that night. I was beginning to think that sex and sleep were somehow incompatible and that is the reason why Jim Hamilton and Roxy Barnes always looked so tired at school, they were seniors, you know. I was up long before the sun and ready. I had gone so far as to bring a pan of water into my room so I could wash up without making any noise. When at last I heard John's car pull out, I quickly went out the back door into the Jenkins back yard and stood before the gates of Heaven, which also doubled as their back door. After a gentle knock and what seemed like several hours, Doris answered the door and I was ushered in. She was wearing a silk house coat and it was tight enough around her so that I could see she had nothing underneath. She had me sit down at the kitchen table and we began to talk. Talk! Gad I wanted sex! I reminded myself that these things take time and being the cool, suave, man about town that I was, I fumbled with the chair, stubbed my toe and generally plopped into the seat. She asked me how many times I had seen her. I was very red-faced as I blurted out the whole story of the vent and the window and how beautiful she was and how I felt like dieing. With that she came over to me, opened her robe and pulled my mouth against her breast. She told me to suck, but not hard and to lick all around the little button. I couldn't believe the great feelings that were stirring in my body. It was like every nerve was alive! The transition to the bedroom and the removal of my clothes is somewhat foggy to this day. However it came about, we were now in her bed and she had her mouth firmly around my cock. She worked and stroked and licked my throbbing rod until I was sure that I felt my brains starting to leak from my skull. By the time she made me cum, I was sure of it. She continued to suck me after I had cum, and to my amazement, a few minutes later I had another hard-on. When she was satisfied with the job she had done, she moved up the bed and told me she was going to teach me how to serve a woman. It started with her neck and how to kiss it. Moving to her ears and how to nibble them. Her breathing was getting faster and I wanted to grab my cock in the worst way. I moved down her chest with clumsy kisses, she put my hands to her breasts and taught me by touch how to fondle them. I kissed and sucked her nipples and she moved my hands to her cunt. It felt so smooth and wet, and at first I pawed at her. She guided me with her hands how to touch lightly and where her clit was. Several minutes of this had me on the verge of cumming. I must have looked like a man who has found water in the desert, she stopped us and settled me down. When we started up again she gently pushed my head down her stomach, between her legs. I lapped like a hungry dog, and through gentle nudges she positioned my eager tongue to her hot spot. She started to move her hips and buck against my mouth, I got a little afraid and started to back off. She pulled me back and I must have sensed that this was the way things are supposed to happen. With renewed vigor I plunged into her pussy and licked for all I was worth. By the time she came in a glorious upheaval, I had three fingers buried deep in her cunt and a face full of love juice. Doris then pulled me up by my shoulders until I lay upon her, my cock rubbing against the outside of her cunt. I was lost in bliss and she guided my cock into her warm pussy and told me to move slowly with her. I wanted to pump like crazy, but her firm but gentle touch, slowed me and let us build together. Soon she was moaning, I was moaning, the bedsprings were moaning, the whole world was moaning as far as I knew......... and the fireworks came. I exploded into her as she moved and bucked against me. We were bouncing so hard we nearly flew off onto the floor...........for awhile I lay against her and listened to her soft breath as she slept. Though it felt like days, I had only been there about an hour when I left. We repeated our dance quite a few times in the next few weeks and I learned lessons that have helped me respect and love and satisfy the women I have met in my life. Doris and I continued off and on for the next 4 years until I went away to college. I wrote to her and saw her occasionally on my visits home. In most stories this is were the relationship would end, but not this time. I am now thirty five and Doris is 63. John died about 8 years ago and when I heard I gave her a call to offer my sympathy. We started up again about a year later and for the last seven years I have been lucky enough to be in her bed whenever the urge takes us. Sometimes the first is the best, and sometimes you get lucky enough to have every time feel like the first time.