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I lost my virginity on my eighteenth birthday. Correction: my virginity was pounced on by a seductress, pummelled like a piece of dough, then kicked between the legs to run yelping into a dark alleyway, never to be seen again. That I lost my virginity at all, was considered to be a minor miracle within my male peer group, including my brother Mike, who was four years older than me. Which was a little ironic, considering that Mike had been the main reason that I was painfully aware that I was a (cough!) virgin in the first place.The problem was that right from the onset of puberty, I was painfully shy and awkward around girls of my own age. Mike wasn’t. By the time I reached the consent age of sixteen, I’d never had a girlfriend, nor could I boast the faintest hint of a female dalliance. Whereas, it was uncanny the way my older brother could consistently bring a new girl (sometimes, two new girls) home on a Friday or Saturday night and smuggle them into his cosy little sleep out which, conveniently for Mike, was in the back yard and several metres away from the main house.Thus, anyone who might accidentally press their ear against Mike’s bedroom door, could often hear orgasmic, feminine squeals, yelps and giggling, accompanied by masculine grunts. Sometimes, one could also hear Mike’s double bed bumping rhythmically against the wall, accompanied by orgasmic, feminine squeals, yelps and giggling, along with masculine grunts. Anyone would then go into his own bedroom, lie on his single bed and masturbate his jealous heart out, while agonising over being so painfully bloody shy and bashful around nubile girls.Anyway, the painful truth for me was that I went to bed at nights, a certified, bona fide virgin and would wake up next morning as unsullied as ever: my latest wet dream had, as usual, been a tantalising chimera, that left stains on my sheets and an ache in my balls.*Nothing had changed when I woke up on the morning of my eighteenth birthday: I was still He Who Hadn’t Been Laid, younger brother of Mike the Babe Magnet, the First of His Name, King Cunnilingus, Breaker of Multiple Hymen and Cock O’ the Clitoris. Mike had finally left home some nine months earlier and I had gotten to move into his former ‘love shack’. To celebrate, I had also bought a second-hand, queen-size bed and lined it up with the marks left on the wall by the previous bed. It was vaguely disappointing that Mike’s magical mojo hadn’t yet rubbed off on me.Mike had briefly spoken to me the night before, to let me know he had arranged something special to Ankara escort celebrate my reaching the mantle of adulthood, but wouldn’t let on what it was. Part of me anticipated some type of surprise party, probably one with lots of girls, while another part dreaded the thought.My brother finally turned up at about two o’clock that Saturday afternoon. I was in my room, setting up the new notepad my parents had gifted me when, after a quick knock on the door jamb, Mike walked in.“Hey younger brother, happy birthday. You, buddy, are going nightclubbing tonight, my shout,” he walked out again, then stopped in the doorway, “oh, and you have a date, so you’ll probably need some decent casual wear.”A date? A real date? At a nightclub? “Ah, wow, um, great, uhh, thanks … “ oh, shit!*About seven hours later, I was anxiously awaiting my mystery date outside a hotel near the heart of downtown Sydney. Having showered – twice – I looked fairly presentable in a black, open neck shirt (courtesy of Mike), black sports jacket and white sports trousers. Mike had brought his current girlfriend, Amy, an attractive, leggy blond and they were both providing some last-minute advice on overcoming my terminal shyness.“Look, buddy, you’ve got to relax,” counselled Mike, “enjoy yourself and stop worrying about what others will think. And stop bringing yourself down, you’re almost as good looking as me, right?”Amy patted my arm, “Hey, you’ll be okay. The girl you’re going to be dating is a good friend of mine and she’s, like, a fantastic person. She’s not going to bite if you mess up a little.”“Speaking of which, here’s your date now.” Mike grabbed me by my shoulders to turn me ninety degrees.I looked around for a few seconds, wondering what to look for. There were a few people in the vicinity, including some likely looking girls. Then my eyes focused on a very attractive, long-legged, blue-eyed brunette, with wavy, shoulder-length hair. She was wearing a haltered, dark purplish-plum coloured party dress, with a matching shoulder bag and was about fifty metres away. She was walking purposefully and directly towards us.Yagoddabekiddingme! flashed through my mind, as this lovely apparition stopped and hugged Amy, then Mike,“Hi, Amy,” she said, in a warm, friendly voice, “Hi Mike,” she turned to me, with a lovely, dazzling smile, “ and you must be Steven. I’m Natalia.” Her hug and that brief kiss on my lips nearly unmanned me. It was an effort to regain my composure.“You can call me Steve, my friends call me Steve,” somehow Ankara escort bayan I managed to sound reasonably confident.Another dazzling smile, “Steve it is, then,” she said, sliding her arm around mine. My legs almost shook when she held my hand as well.Natalia wasn’t quite as tall as I first thought, being maybe five feet, three inches in height: it was something about the way she carried herself, that made her seem taller. Her eyes were a lovely blue-grey shade, under delicately arched eyebrows, while her cupid’s bow lips looked really kissable. Apart from wearing an appealing pink lipstick, she didn’t need much makeup to look amazing.She had a slim build with, as far as I could tell, smallish, pert looking breasts and what looked to be a cute little bum. She could have been anywhere from eighteen years old, to twenty-five. No wonder I was almost floating to the entry door of the nightclub, still in disbelief that such a gorgeous girl, no, woman was walking hand in hand with me.As the tank dressed as a club bouncer inspected my photo identity card, then me. I couldn’t help bouncing a little nervously on my feet.Natalia squeezed my hand, “Don’t worry, I felt the same way with my first nightclub,” she said, with a reassuring smile. That squeeze and smile calmed me down.The tank-bouncer returned my card and, with a friendly grunt waved us through.Once we were in, the girls broke away to freshen up a little. Just as they were returning, Mike clapped me on the shoulder, “Well mate, this is where Amy and I leave you and Natalia alone. Have a good time. See ya.” He left us in the hands of a friendly female usher.We were ushered into a semi-enclosed booth, consisting of a three-sided, leather-upholstered couch with a single-stemmed table in the centre of the ‘U’. A curtain could be pulled across the entry to provide privacy, as well as block out some of the noise from the dance floor. The cool, dimmable lighting made for a cosy, intimate atmosphere.Natalia and I had to sit close together to be able to talk above the noise. I was soon enamoured of her warm, feminine scent with its subtle hint of jasmine. The way her hair trailed down her neck: her small, long-fingered hands and the way she used them so expressively, had me captivated. Above all else, my brain didn’t turn to mush. My tongue didn’t dry up, or stick to the roof of my mouth and my courage stayed in the room. Instead, I was holding a reasonably intelligent conversation with my very attractive date.It transpired that Natalia was Escort Ankara twenty-two years old, a trainee nurse who loved cats, but wasn’t particularly fond of dogs. Yes, she was of Italian descent, as her name suggested. She loved all sorts of music, including blues, heavy rock, jazz. We just kept talking, taking an interest in each other. It wasn’t as though alcohol loosened me up either, because the both of us had forgone that in favour of iced Bundaberg drinks.It must have been about half an hour after we got to the nightclub, that Natalia took my hand and led me off to the dance floor. There, I discovered that I could actually dance (!), while Natalia could take my breath away with her sensual, sexy little moves, whenever her body was close to mine. On the crowded floor, that was almost all the time. When a couple of guys tried to move in on her, Natalia ignored them completely and got in very close to me.We eventually returned to our booth, tired but exhilarated. We sat close together, relaxed and unwinding. Natalia broke the silence by leaning against me and, with a fingertip under my chin, turned my face to hers, “Hey Steve, would you like to kiss me?” she asked, with a gentle, coquettish smile.Before I could answer, she stroked my cheek, then placed her soft, warm lips against mine. As if by magic, my lips opened at the same time as hers and her tongue slipped into my mouth. Her breath was hot, clean and intoxicating. Her tongue was like velvet, as it duelled gently with mine. My heart was racing and a bright, warm glow subsumed me.She slowly broke off that first, enchanting kiss and smiled, “Mmm, good, very good,” she whispered into my ear, stroking my cheek and jaw, “how was that for you?”“Oh, wow, that just …” she cut me off with another kiss.Warm shivers raced up and down my spine when she took my hand and placed it on her right breast. It fitted neatly into my palm, as I instinctively cupped my hand. My thumb seemed to have a life of its own, as it played with her nipple. Her nipple quickly got longer and stiffer, and Natalia was sighing contentedly into my mouth. My heart pounded like a bass drum, when she eased the thin fabric of her dress aside, exposing her smooth, bare flesh to my touch.Her hand soon strayed down to my crotch, stroking and patting my erection through my pants. Our kiss became more passionate and deeper, as my brain exploded into fractured, incoherent thoughts. The bright, warm glow concentrated in my groin and became a pulsating strobe.Natalia murmured, “Okay, are you ready for this?” into my mouth.“Uhh, ready for?” I murmured back, as she again broke away.How was I to know that this lovely, utterly sexy woman I’d only met just over an hour ago, was going to unbutton my pants, unzip my fly, push my pants down my thighs and rescue my thick, throbbing, manhood from my boxers?

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