I was eighteen and just out of high school. For the past two years, I had been seeing the same guy, Jerry. We both came from fairly strict Mormon families, and this explained why we had not progressed much beyond the heavy petting stage. Jerry was a true believer that sex outside of marriage was a terrible sin. But, and this was important, he wanted to be a lawyer when he got out of school. This gave him an innate sense for loopholes. Pre-marital sex was certainly sinful, but the term “sex” was loosely defined.
At first, he claimed that it wouldn’t be a sin if we kept our clothes on. So we petted and pawed and made ourselves silly with horniness. This was great fun for a while, but always left us wanting more.
“Well,” Jerry said one day. “I guess it wouldn’t be a sin if touched just your boobs under your shirt.”
I received quite a bit of breast attention for the next few weeks until Jerry again revised his definition of acceptable behavior. Now it was OK to touch each other’s genitals, but he wasn’t allowed to climax. Needless to say, that one didn’t last long. The devoutly religious aren’t any more immune to “blue balls” than anyone else. And, in Jerry’s slightly warped view, masturbation was a way bigger sin than anything you could do with another person. So hand-jobs became the name of the game for over a year. We went through three jumbo bottles of Jergen’s hand lotion.
Then, world events actually gave us the impetus to move to the next level. No less an authority than the President of the United States had declared that oral stimulation was not, strictly speaking, really sex. Jerry, being legal-minded, could not quarrel with the President’s definitions. Blow-jobs were now “in.” Somehow, however, cunnilingus was still forbidden. I never really followed the logic behind this, though Jerry explained it to me in great detail. It seemed unfair to me, so I limited my cocksucking to Jerry’s birthday and major religious holidays.
It seemed as though we had reached a plateau. We had gone as far as we could go without going too far, and Jerry was very determined not to cross that line until we were lawfully wed. We became officially engaged the day after graduation, but his parents wouldn’t allow us to marry until Jerry had finished at least two years of college. This seemed like an eternity to us. We seriously discussed elopement, our only motive being a desperate desire to get laid.
Then, one day, Jerry came to me with what he saw as a solution to our dilemma. Anal sex.
“You’re still a virgin as long as you have your hymen,” he assured me.
I wasn’t convinced. My theology was a bit shaky, I’ll admit, but it seemed to me that sodomy ranked a bit higher then mere fornication on the sin-o-meter. We debated the matter endlessly. I was no match for Jerry’s argumentative skills, and I was naturally a little curious. I finally agreed. We even set a date.
Ever resourceful, Jerry had downloaded instructional material off the internet.
“You need to, uh, you know, go to the bathroom first,” he stammered. “Not number one, number two.”
The guy wanted to fuck me in the ass, but he couldn’t even bring himself to say the word “poop.”
So I went into the bathroom and did my business. When I was done, I found to my surprise that Jerry had decked his bedroom out with candles and flowers. Incense was burning and Van Morrison played on his stereo (very sexy.) I had to give the guy points for setting the mood, and I’ll admit that at this point I was pretty aroused.
We got into bed and started making out. With the anticipation of what was to come, it was hotter and sexier than it had been in a long time. We peeled each other’s clothes off and got each other worked up with our hands and mouths. Jerry even went down on me, for the second time in the two years we had been together. I was red-hot, ready to try anything.
“Roll over,” Jerry said, his voice quivering.
I got on my hands and knees. Jerry’s hands spread my buttocks and I felt something cold and wet squirt down my crack.
“Yow!” I yelped. “What’s that?”
“K-Y Jelly,” he said. “It’s the best thing to use.”
“Do you keep it in the refrigerator? It’s cold!”
“Sorry,” Jerry said.
He started rubbing it around, and it warmed up quickly. Jerry massaged my asshole with the tips of his fingers. This was a strange new sensation, to say the least. It made me shiver with excitement.
“OK,” Jerry said. “I’m going to slide my finger in, OK?”
I nodded. Jerry poked his finger in slowly as I gasped with pleasure and surprise.
“Did that hurt?” he asked.
“No. It feels good.”
Jerry slid his finger in and out, very slowly, working more of the jelly up into my hole. I felt the tight muscles begin to relax.
“OK, I’m going to try two fingers,” Jerry warned.
That stung a bit at first, until Jerry got enough lube going. Then he was fucking my ass with two fingers as I moaned and pressed my ass against his hand.
“OK,” Jerry said, removing his fingers. “I’m going to do it now. Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” I gasped, trying not to tighten up.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“OK, because here I come.”
“Yes!”
Then I felt . . . warm sticky fluid bathing my butt. Jerry had come before he could even get it in.
“Jerry!” I cried.
“Sorry,” he said.
I wanted to try again that very night, but Jerry’s sex drive drops to zero after he gets off. He promised that we could try again the next night. But of course, his parents stayed home instead of playing bridge like they usually do on Thursdays. It was a whole week before we got another chance.
Same program. Bathroom, bedroom, foreplay, one finger, then two.
“Are you ready?” Jerry asked.
“Yes.”
“All right, I’m going to do it. You sure you’re ready?”
“Damn it, Jerry, fuck my ass!”
The head of his cock slid into my asshole.
“Oh,” I moaned.
“Does that hurt?”
It did and it didn’t. It was unlike any sensation I had ever felt in my life, like a heaviness inside me.
“I’m hurting you, aren’t I?” Jerry sounded miserable.
“No,” I said finally. “Don’t stop.”
Jerry moved in and out slowly, picking up a little speed as he grew more excited. His penis slid deeper and deeper into my ass with each thrust. Weird vibrations shimmered through my entire body, like little electric shocks. It was good, but I needed something more. I reached a hand between my legs and started playing with my clit.
“What are you doing?” Jerry gasped with horror. Masturbation was up there with murder and taking the Lord’s name in vain in Jerry’s mind. Plus, I don’t think he even knew that women had orgasms like men did. In fact, at that point, neither did I.
“Shut up, Jerry,” I said. “Just fuck my ass. Harder, Jerry. Fuck it harder.”
Jerry did as he was told, buried to the hilt now in my bowels. He drove it in faster and harder and I frigged myself mercilessly. Then he came. I felt it inside me, Jerry pumping my ass full of cum. The load was heavy and hot, burning me inside. It made me come, too. For the first time in my life, I went screaming over the top. My asshole went crazy, spasming around Jerry’s spurting prick. Each involuntary squeeze of my anus made it tighter back there. It hurt but I never wanted it to stop. I had Jerry’s prick in a vice grip. We were locked together like dogs.