Jessica the First

Big Tits

It probably strains the credulity of most people under fifty these days if they hear of a young man of twenty-three, who has not had a sexual relationship. Never the less, that was true of me.

This was not only true for me, but for many other young men and women. The reasons for my chastity were twofold. First, I was brought up in a very religious household where sex outside marriage was considered the most horrific immorality and was probably the “unforgivable sin.” This was the stated reason for sexual abstinence. The second, and usually unstated reason, was fear of pregnancy outside marriage. Contraception not being reliable in those days, the girls tended to keep themselves in line, and fought off would be lovers with considerable energy.

One other factor applied in my case. From my mid-teens I had set my heart on becoming a minister of religion, and felt I must keep myself “undefiled” by sin, which at that time was considered to have a very high sexual content.

I feel it necessary to point out that along with many other religious people at the time, when I felt as if I was enjoying something I immediately felt guilty, because I was probably sinning.

Some more liberal preachers told us that they “did not mind people having good clean fun.” Later in life I came to the conclusion that most of what I found to be fun did not come into their category of “good” and “clean” and most of what they called “fun” was more suited to five-year-olds, rather than adults.

So it was that at age twenty-three I was still a virgin, and to my shame, a covert masturbater or, as the religious authorities put it, a “self-abuser.”

I had begun my first year in theological college in preparation for the ministry. Coming from a money strapped family, I needed some means of financial support. The Church’s way of dealing with this was to appoint students like myself, as assistants to parish clergy, and pay them a small salary, or stipend as they chose to call it.

I was appointed to a suburban parish on the distant outskirts of the city. Being poor, I had no car, and was reliant on public transport. This was fine as far as the main parish was concerned as the suburban railway ran a reasonable service to it.

My problem was that the parish minister who was my “boss,” could be aptly described as “a lazy bum.” This cleric did not like pastoral visiting, so he heaped it on poor old inexperienced me. Furthermore, the parish had a small offshoot – what was called a “Sister Congregation” – and he didn’t care to do any of the work need for this place. Again, it was loaded on to me.

I am unable to resist an aside at this point and pose the question, “What did this guy do with his time?” He appeared a rather sapless, drab fellow, but he had a stunningly sexy wife. My fantasy was that if he had any sense he would be spending most of his time in bed with her.

My aside over, my real problem was getting to this offshoot church that I was given charge over. The railway went nowhere near it, and no buses went in that direction, and in any case I had to regularly conduct services there on Sunday mornings, and the train service to the nearest station was atrocious on Sundays.

The members of the congregation were a kindly group, and they generously put together a roster whereby I was picked up from the hostel I was living in, and driven to the church. In addition, I was given meals in their homes on Sundays.

Despite the heavy load my idle boss had given me on top of my studies, I enjoyed the warmth and friendship of the people in that little congregation. There was one member of the congregation however, who stood out very clearly. She was called “Jessica.”

Jessica was a regular at both the morning and evening services, and she made a point of sitting in the front row and focusing her eyes on me with what I can now see were lascivious looks. Sitting in the front row, other members of the congregation could not see what was happening, but I found it very distracting.

Jessica was tall and well developed. I saw her in tight shorts, and these showed her legs to be strong and shapely. Her breasts were large and she made sure they were advantageously displayed beneath tight jumpers or thin tops, and without the benefit of a bra. She seemed to be in her early forties, and not especially good poker oyna looking, with a long head surmounted by tight blonde curls.

Although, as I say, she was not especially good looking, she could be described as incredibly sensual, or, as I voiced it to myself, a “Lusty Wench.” Everything about her seemed to exude sexuality; even her aroma made me feel she was ready to sexually swoop on her prey. I noted that the men in the congregation expended a great deal of energy pretending that they weren’t looking at and fancying Jessica.

Jessica’s husband, Henry, did not attend church, and it was not until it was their turn to have me for a meal, that I met him. I was astonished. He was a small, owlish little man wearing spectacles with thick, eye distorting glass. He informed me that he was a clerk studying accountancy by correspondence. I think this was the most personal information I ever got out of him. He was clearly dominated by his robust and seemingly potent wife. They had two children, a boy and a girl, and I wondered how Henry had managed it.

On the occasion of my first visit with Jessica and Henry I was to have lunch with them, then go on elsewhere. For the relatively short time I was there I got the impression that Jessica was weighing me up, rather like a tigress beginning to stalk her prey. Her movements, even her standing still or sitting seemed calculated and erotic. When at times she drew near me, her breathing became heavy, and she found any excuse to touch me. All of this was carried out with Henry present, and it seemed not to bother him one bit.

Despite my resolve to forswear the demon sex, I found myself trying to hide an erection that felt as if it was filling their dining room, and was dripping pre-cum constantly. The lunch over, I staggered out of their house, an utterly bewildered and frustrated wretch. I felt that Jessica could have turned the most abstemious saint into a raging sex maniac.

Up to that time Jessica had not been on the roster to pick me up for my Sunday visit, therefore I was somewhat surprised, to say the least, when her car pulled up outside the hostel two Sundays after my lunch with her and Henry. I had been expecting a chap called Arthur, but as I got into the car Jessica announced, or rather, crowed triumphantly, “I’ve got you all day.”

It seemed that by arrangement with the person drawing up the roster, Jessica had requested that those who were supposed to entertain me relinquish the task, and let her take me over for the day.

We went direct to the church where I conducted the morning service. From there we went to Jessica’s house, and I comforted myself that at least Henry and the children would be there, and however much Jessica played her amorous games, nothing could happen.

Henry and the children were not there. When I asked after them Jessica replied jubilantly, “Henry’s taken the children to visit his mother for the day. You’ve got me all to yourself.”

It was more the other way round; she had me to herself.

We managed to get through lunch without too much strain on the emotions, but even her manner of eating had sensuality about it. As she slowly chewed and swallowed her food, I pictured it being transformed into sexual energy. She had a way of looking at me and pushing out the pink tip of her tongue and flicking it over her full lips, that made me think of a gourmet about to devour his favourite dish.

After lunch I helped her wash up, then she excused herself, saying that as it was such a hot day she’d like to change, if I didn’t mind. I muttered something like, “Of course not.”

When she returned I wished I had raised an objection. She glided into the lounge where I was sitting clad in the scantiest garment I had ever seen. It was not as revealing as much female swimwear is these days, but for the time it was extremely daring. It was a bikini of the nineteen fifties era, just covering the essential and no more.

From time to time during that afternoon of hot temptation Jessica seemed to find endless reasons to adjust the top of the garment, each time exposing a little more breast to my view.

In addition, with me sitting opposite her, she frequently sat on the sofa with her legs drawn up and parted, so the cloth passing under her crotch sank into her cleft to reveal the shape of her vagina. canlı poker oyna As the afternoon wore on I thought I could see a wet patch starting to stain the cloth.

I also became aware of an fragrance coming from her which later I learned was her vaginal odour that I think of now as “Woman smell.” It was this as much as anything else that drove me crazed with lust for her.

Verbally Jessica said nothing by way of direct invitation to fuck her. Her method was clearly to drive her prey insane with desire for her, thus forcing them to make the final move. She adopted every possible voluptuous pose and held her lips slightly open and eyes half closed in a “Come and take me” manner.

At one stage she suggested that, given the hot weather, I might like to undress and she would provide me with a large towel to wrap round my middle. I politely rejected the offer, saying that I was “perfectly okay.” In fact I was sweating profusely but less from the heat than from my struggle with the temptations before me.

Jessica steered the conversation in directions that might lead to matters sexual. For example, asking me about girl friends, how many had I had and did I have one now? Did I like women? What sort of women did I like? Was there one that interested me at the moment?

I battled and manoeuvred my way through this hellish forest of enticement with what skill I hardly know, as I was fighting a mighty throbbing and dripping erection. Eventually Jessica sighed, stood up and said, “I’d better get the meal ready, come and help me.”

“This,” I thought, “might provide some activity to distract me from my thwarted libido.” I was wrong. Jessica found every possible excuse to touch me, and at one stage to back me against the sink and press herself against me.

Still I resisted.

During the meal she seemed to give up. Conversation became non-threatening, sexually speaking, and I relaxed a little. When we had finished and Jessica had changed into her “church going clothes,” I felt the war was over. She drove me to the church, and retained a modest mien throughout the service.

When the service was over it was usual for one of the people to drive me to the nearest railway station where I could catch a train into the city. This time Jessica was ready and waiting.

We drove off and quickly I saw we were going in the wrong direction. I pointed this out to Jessica, who said, “I know, Robert.”

We were heading out of the suburb and in the opposite direction from the city. The countryside in those days was adjacent to the suburb, and we were soon away from the houses. Jessica turned off from the bitumen road on to a dirt track.

“What are you doing, Jessica,” I protested.

“You’ll find out,” she replied, and as she spoke she pulled in to the side of the track and stopped the car. With the headlights off it was pitch black. I began my protest again, but she cut across me.

Her voice seemed to have changed. She spoke in soft, almost motherly tones.

“You’ve been resisting me all day, Robert. I admire your strength, but I could see quite clearly what you wanted. You can’t hide an erection like your’s you know. Now there’s nothing to worry about. I’ve had an operation so I can’t get pregnant and I’m not going to be telling any tales, unless you refuse to fuck me.”

“You can’t make me,” I retorted.

“No, but you’ve got two choices. You either fuck me now in the back of the car, or I’m going to go back home screaming you tried to rape me. That won’t go down too well with the Church hierarchy, will it?”

She reached over and began to unzip my flies, and then her hand was on my penis stroking it.

“Come on sweetheart, I’ve fancied you ever since you came to our church, and you don’t want to go back to the hostel frustrated, do you? Just let me relax you. There’s no harm in it. You won’t burn in the eternal fires for making a woman happy.”

I had resisted her all day, but now I no longer had the will power to continue the struggle. I might excuse myself by saying I was worried about the rape accusation she threatened, but it would not be the truth. I wanted her like I’d never wanted anything in my life before. My whole being ached for her.

“Come on, darling, no more fighting it, you know you want me, so enjoy me.”

She got out of the car internet casino and opened the door to the back seat saying softly, “Come on Robert, get in with me.”

I got out of the front seat and joined her in the back. She lay back in the corner and pulled up her skirt, revealing that she had no panties on. I think she must have known I was a virgin, because she said, “Come on top of me, sweetheart, I’ll help you.”

I came over her and she took my shaft in her hand and guided it to her opening.

“Just push in, darling.”

I pushed.

Whatever I might have known theoretically or fantasised about entering a woman, the reality was light years beyond all that. I have to admit, there have been many women since that first time, but none have ever come anywhere near Jessica in the beauty of being inside her. She was very moist and warm and once I had started to enter, she seemed to suck me into her, gripping me with her vagina as if she would never let go.

Her lips were on mine her mouth open and tongue searching the inside of my mouth. She broke from the kiss and tensed her vaginal muscle even more, asking, “Do you like that, darling? Is it nice?”

I managed to croak out, “Beautiful.”

“Let it all go, sweetheart, don’t hold back. Just put it all in me.”

I did not need her to tell me to “let it all go.” I couldn’t have stopped myself if I wanted to. I think I gave a tremendous howl as I released myself into her.

When I finished, I lay inside her, replete. She continued kissing my face and saying, “That’s better isn’t it darling, and next time we won’t have all that resistance, will we? We’ll do it on a nice comfortable bed, and I shall teach you things you ought to know about women and sex, I’m going to give you everything, Robert. Now, as a reward, I’ll drive you all the way to the hostel. By the way, I wouldn’t have told that rape story, but I had to get you somehow.”

Jessica’s promise to give me “Everything” was fulfilled over the course of the next two years. As my purpose in writing is to tell about my first time with a woman, I shall not enter into details of all that followed.

Jessica shared a good many personal details of her life with me. She told how her first time was with the choirmaster of a church choir when she was fifteen. His wife, discovering the liaison, brought it to a swift end, but Jessica had encountered sex, and loved it. She soon drew more lovers to her, and I was given to understand that I was not the only one who enjoyed her.

She laughingly pointed out that she never selected as her lovers the noisy randy boasters, or as she put it, “The worn out old lechers,” but “respectable” men with dull wives – “Mainly church men,” she added. “They get much more adventuresome when they get a woman like me to play with,” she went on.

Jessica did not see herself as a nymphomaniac or psychologically disturbed, “I just enjoy sex so much, darling,” she said.

Over the following two years, I had sex with Jessica at least once a week, then at the end of that time I was transferred to another parish. I tried to continue with Jessica, but it became more and more difficult because I had no legitimate reason for being in the area, and eventually my old flock must latch on to what I was doing.

We did not actually part from each other we just slowly faded out of each other’s lives. We were not in love with each other. We were two people, one who enjoyed being generous with her body and the other who was in need of someone to break him out from his sexually stifling mould.

My story has a sad ending.

About forty years after I left that little congregation I chanced to meet someone who had been a member of it in my time there. We talked about the people and what had happened to them over the years, and at one point I casually asked, “What happened to Jessica ……..?” (Giving the rest of her name).

“Oh, she died of cancer about ten years after you left us.”

A great sadness engulfed me. I thought of that wonderful “Sex Goddess” body wasted by cancer, and once more recalled that first time.

There have been a number of women in my life sexually speaking. I have enjoyed them, but I can never recall a particular sexual intercourse with them, apart from my first time with Jessica.

I know I had many beautiful times with her after that night in the back seat of her car, but it is that night, that time with Jessica the First, that comes back to me over the years in detail.

Perhaps most people recall the first time like that!

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