In the quiet suburb of Tokyo, Aiko, a graceful 22-year-old university student with porcelain-smooth skin and a lithe, curvaceous figure, had always dreamed of her first time. Her breasts were full and firm, capped with pale pink areolas, and her intimate folds were plump and tender, untouched until tonight. Kenji, her 24-year-old boyfriend, equally inexperienced but deeply in love, shared her anticipation. They had dated for a year, building trust and desire through stolen kisses and whispered promises.
The evening began in their small apartment, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through silk curtains. Aiko wore a delicate white silk robe that clung to her body’s elegant curves, her long black hair cascading like a raven waterfall. Kenji, shirtless in loose pants, approached her with gentle eyes, his heart pounding. ‘Are you sure, Aiko?’ he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. She nodded, her cheeks flushing a soft rose. ‘Yes, Kenji. I want this… with you.’
They moved to the bed, where Kenji slowly untied her robe, revealing her flawless skin shimmering under the lunar light. His fingers traced her collarbone, feeling the warmth of her body, smooth as polished jade. Aiko’s breath hitched as he cupped her breasts, the firm mounds yielding slightly under his touch, her nipples hardening into pert peaks. She reached for him, her hands exploring the hard planes of his chest, the faint scent of his sandalwood cologne mingling with her own jasmine perfume.
Their first kiss deepened, tongues dancing in a salty-sweet tango, tasting the faint bitterness of anticipation. Kenji’s lips trailed down her neck, eliciting soft moans that echoed like distant chimes. He kissed her breasts, sucking gently on the pale pink areolas, savoring the silky texture against his tongue. Aiko arched, her fingers threading through his hair, as a warm ache built between her thighs.
Kenji’s hand ventured lower, parting her plump labia, which were already slick with arousal. Her clitoris, a swollen pearl, throbbed under his fingertip, and he circled it slowly, drawing out gasps that filled the room. The air grew heavy with the musky scent of her excitement, a heady mix of salt and sweetness. ‘You’re so wet,’ he whispered, his voice thick with awe. Aiko whimpered, ‘It feels… incredible.’
His own arousal strained against his pants, his penis erect and throbbing, veins bulging along its length, the purple-red head glistening with pre-cum. Aiko touched it tentatively, feeling its heat and rigidity, the slick fluid coating her fingers with a salty tang as she tasted it curiously.
For their first union, Kenji positioned himself above her in the missionary style, guiding his swollen member to her entrance. He entered slowly, inch by inch, her tight, virgin channel enveloping him in wet heat. The friction was exquisite, her inner walls, lined with delicate folds, gripping him like velvet gloves. Aiko gasped at the initial stretch, a brief sting giving way to fullness. ‘Go slow,’ she breathed, her nails digging into his back.
He rocked gently, each thrust a careful exploration, the wet sounds of their joining punctuating the air—slurping, rhythmic slaps. Her vagina contracted around him, warm and pulsating, as he delved deeper, the tip brushing her cervix in a profound, intimate collision. The sensation was like merging souls, his length seemingly piercing into her very core.
As climax approached, Aiko’s breathing quickened, her chest heaving, love juices flowing copiously, coating them both. Her vaginal walls began to spasm lightly, a prelude to ecstasy. Then, the peak hit: her body convulsed in violent tremors, muscles clenching like a fist around his shaft, squeezing with ferocious intensity. She screamed, a high-pitched wail of release, as waves of pleasure crashed, her fluids gushing in hot spurts. Kenji followed, his seed erupting deep inside, mixing with her essence in a sticky, warm flood.
In the afterglow, her vagina pulsed gently around him, a soothing rhythm, their combined scents—a potent brew of sweat, musk, semen, and nectar—filling the room. They lay entwined, hearts syncing in satisfied bliss.
After a tender interlude of kisses and whispers, Aiko felt bold. ‘Let me try on top,’ she suggested, her eyes sparkling. Straddling him, she lowered onto his renewed erection, her full breasts bouncing with the motion. The entry was smoother now, her lubricated passage welcoming him fully. She rocked her hips, controlling the pace, grinding against him, her clitoris rubbing deliciously on his pubic bone.
Their dialogue flowed: ‘Does it feel good?’ Kenji groaned. ‘Yes, so deep,’ Aiko replied, her voice breathy. The rhythm built from slow circles to fervent bounces, the slap of skin on skin echoing, wet squelches amplifying the sensuality. She felt every ridge of his veined shaft scraping her wrinkled inner walls, the head nudging her cervix repeatedly, evoking that illusory penetration into her womb.
High tide neared: her breaths came in short pants, vagina fluttering, secretions increasing. Ecstasy erupted—her frame shook uncontrollably, walls contracting in powerful waves, milking him relentlessly. She cried out, body arching, fluids cascading. Kenji thrust up, releasing into her depths, their mingled tastes lingering on sweat-kissed skin.
The reverberations lingered, her passage throbbing softly, bodies slick and warm, a shared euphoria binding them.
Desiring more, they moved to the bathroom for a shower. Under the steaming water, droplets traced Aiko’s curves like liquid silver in the dim light. Kenji pressed her against the tiled wall from behind, his hands roaming her slick breasts, pinching the rosy nipples.
Foreplay resumed with soapy caresses, fingers probing her tender folds, eliciting moans that mingled with the water’s patter. The air smelled of lavender soap and arousal. ‘Bend over a little,’ he urged softly. She complied, bracing against the wall.
Entering from behind, his rigid penis slid into her saturated warmth, the angle allowing deeper thrusts. The penetration was intense, her labia parting wide, inner folds massaging him with each plunge. Water amplified the slippery glide, their bodies colliding with wet smacks, her gasps turning to cries.
Pace varied from languid to frantic, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her back onto him. She felt the full length, the bulbous head impacting her cervix, a fusion that blurred boundaries.
Climax built: ragged breaths, preliminary spasms, love honey mixing with water. The summit: seismic shudders, her vagina clamping like a vice, expelling a torrent of fluid. She wailed, limbs quivering, as he filled her once more. Post-orgasm, gentle throbs and warm stickiness enveloped them, water rinsing away the evidence but not the memory.
As the night waned, they returned to bed, bodies spent but souls intertwined, whispering of futures in the moon’s fading light.
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