I ran a session for university students who felt they’d missed out on freshers’ week, to allow them to practice blowjobs in a safe environment.

One night, after a particularly intense session I showered and fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.

The next morning, I woke up to a text from Emma, one of the girls.

How do I book a 1-2-1?

I didn’t want to give her time to change her mind — or for either of us to spend too long with memories we could romanticise — but the previous night had exhausted me.

Sometime next week? I wrote.

Her reply was almost immediate. Yes. My house. She gave me the address and the date and time.

I prefer a neutral space, but I wanted her to be comfortable.

It was a long week. I went to work during the day and tried to keep busy in the evenings. Not that long ago she’d given me a blowjob even though she’d never been kissed. I’d eaten her out and fingered her until she came. I kissed her — her first kiss — as she climaxed, my lips wet with her juices.

The wait was torture. I wanted to keep it transactional, but I kept replaying those moments.

On the day, I drove to her house slowly, knowing that I would soon have her again. Memories of her body, her lips, her writhing overlaid with images of what I would be doing to her.

She was standing waiting at the window of a small, detached house with a single car in the driveway. I hadn’t thought that she would still live with her parents. I parked and knocked on the door.

She opened the door as soon as I knocked and grabbed my hand. She pulled me into the lounge.

“My parents are out,” she said.

“For how long?”

She laughed. “All weekend.” She was wearing a long, faded Mickey Mouse t-shirt and, as far as I could tell, nothing else. Her nipples poked into the fabric and her legs, long and toned, slid out of the bottom. “I’ve been so turned on waiting for you to get here. There are so many things I want to do.”

I was already hard and I pulled her into me. She pressed her head into my chest and then stepped back.

“Will you follow my lead?” she asked.

“This is all about you,” I said.

She took my hand and led me upstairs. It was immediately clear that she wasn’t wearing anything under the t-shirt. I stayed several stairs below her, enjoying the view. She stopped on the top step and looked back down at me, and I forced myself to meet her eye.

“Like what you see?” she said. Before I could reply, she said: “I liked when you kissed me — but it was the idea of you not ever having kissed me that got me off last time. I’ve relived that so many times. Today is about making memories, not some super tender first time.”

“Fine by me,” I said, befuddled by arousal. “I’ll do whatever you say until you want me to take control.”

“Come on then,” she said, lifting the edge of the t-shirt and wiggling her bottom in front of my face.

I leapt up the last few stairs and followed her into the bedroom. There was a single bed with pale pink sheets against one wall, a bright pink wardrobe and matching drawers, a large fluffy rug in between and various posters and mementos all over the walls. Ballet trophies.

“This has been my bedroom my whole life,” she said. “That’s the bed I learnt to masturbate in. I know every way its frame creaks.”

I touched the head of a large pink Build-a-Bear.

We stood there, looking at one another in her childhood bedroom. I could see birds flitting in the trees outside her window.

She twisted back and forth on one heel. “I’m not keen on you staying over. This isn’t like that. If you’re free you could come back tomorrow.”

“Let’s play it by ear,” I said.

“I’ve been looking forward to this, but I don’t think I’m ready yet. Can I give you head?”

“It’s your show.”

“I want some dirty talk.”

“On your knees,” I said.

I took off my trousers and socks. My penis stuck up at an angle under my shirt.

She got on her knees and shuffled towards me.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“Suck your cock.”

“How many cocks have you dreamt of sucking in here?”

“So many.”

“Touching yourself?”

She didn’t answer but lunged forwards and took me in her mouth. Her hands moved onto my shaft and she bobbed up and down fast. I could feel the varying suction as she experimented.

I stood, lost in the moment. My hands drifted to move her hair out of her face so I could see her work. She had one hand on my shaft and the other reached back to tease herself.

She moaned into me and sped up. She was bringing me there quickly.

I pulled back from her. She looked annoyed. “Already? I want to practice.”

“There’s plenty of time for that. How do you want to start?”

“On top. I want control. But I want you to last when we fuck.” She took me back into her mouth.

I tried, briefly, to contain myself — but given the week of anticipation, the view up her t-shirt on the stairs and her enthusiasm, I couldn’t last.

“On my face,” she said. “I want to feel you on me as I lose my virginity.”

I groaned. “You don’t need any practice.”

She began moving even faster, moaning into me, her tongue incessant, her hand corkscrewing.

I pulled out of her mouth and pushed her head against the mattress. I came straight on her face with the first shot. The next flew over her head, pooling dark against the pink sheets. I finished in her open mouth. She held it for a moment and then swallowed.

“Beautiful,” I said, wiping it away from her forehead so it wouldn’t go in her eyes.

She licked her lips and smiled. “I’m so turned on. I need to feel you inside me.”

“Let me warm you up with my fingers.”

I cupped my hand around her pussy, feeling the heat. There was faint friction from the short hairs. I slid my finger in the cleft, getting it wetter, teasing her labia, gently catching her clitoris at the end of each stroke. Her breath hitched. I slid one finger in and then two. She was looking away from me, glassy-eyed.

“Want to try the real thing?”

“No condom,” she said.

“I’m going to wear one.”

“I’m a virgin and I’m on the pill.”

“Regardless.”

She pouted and pushed me down onto my back. She shuffled up, holding herself just above me. I reached under her to put the condom on and then lined myself up.

“Ready.”

She said nothing and lowered herself down gently, a look of concentration on her face. As she slid down my length, I admired her flushed chest, her firm breasts.

For a moment she held still with me fully inside. Then, she lifted up, deliciously slowly, then dropped down faster. Her brow creased and she let out a small moan. I held still and let her set the pace.

Once she got into a rhythm, I began thrusting up gently. I grasped her buttocks, helping her lift up and down. I watched her chasing something. She was elsewhere as she pleasured herself on me.

She began to slow and looked down at me. “Can you take control?” she said.

I gripped her thighs. “Ready?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said.

I began to thrust up faster while she held herself above me. She had one hand on her clitoris, rubbing hard.

It wasn’t quite getting her there. She leaned forwards. Our faces were close. There was a faint sheen of sweat on her face as well as the drying cum. Her lips glistened.

“Don’t kiss me,” she said, gasping between moans.

I buried my head in her neck and sucked the soft skin. I felt her grip me tighter. I kept my pace as she hugged me tighter.

“Where’s your cock?” she asked.

I hesitated.

She pulled back and looked in my eyes. “Tell me.”

“In your pussy,” I said.

“My what?”

“Your tight virgin pussy.”

I saw her let go, felt her stiffen. She came around me. I kept thrusting until she went completely still. I slowed and she clung to me for a moment.

“Stay there,” she said as she climbed off. She turned around and slid herself onto me again. She looked back for a moment and then turned away as her hips rose and fell. She reached back to use the bed for support, but she found my hands instead. She wound her fingers around mine and used the leverage to bounce harder. I could see the tight round of her arse, the flexing muscles of her back.

“Who did you prefer? Apart from me, of course.”

“What?”

“Jasmine tried hard. She let you take control and go super deep, but you didn’t come. The two friends did get you off, but they were more interested in each other. I wish they’d blown you together.”

I tried to focus on her words, or something else. I was getting close.

“I think Astrid was your favourite. You kept coming back to her. Psychologically, I mean. She made you come first and I think you really liked her.”

The motion was too much. “I’m going to come,” I said.

She began to slow down, but it was too late. I untangled our hands, grasped her breasts and lowered her so she was lying on her back on my chest. I kept thrusting up into her as I filled the condom.

I lay back, savouring the afterglow, absorbing the intensity, but she pulled away and climbed off.

“I was so close,” she said.

“Sorry. You rode me so well. I’ll be able to go again in a bit.”

She pulled off the condom and threw it in the bin. “Let’s help things along,” she said and took me in her mouth. I shuddered, still sensitive, and I pulled her up gently.

“Easy, tiger. I need a short break. Want me to eat you out?”

She hesitated for a moment. “No. I want to come with you inside me. I want to feel you come inside me.”

“I just did.”

“You know what I mean. I want to feel you squirting.”

“Tell me what you want. Apart from that.”

She knelt in front of me, facing away, her bare pussy just in front of me, the lips red and damp. “I shaved just for you.”

She reached back and slid her fingers into the cleft.

“Fingering myself after last time was better, but not the real thing. Remembering being licked, kissed, having my mouth filled with your cum. It just showed me how much more intense it could be than in my imagination.”

She’d well and truly got me ready. I put a condom on.

“I want to feel your skin. I want to feel you cum inside.”

I gripped the back of her neck under her straight black hair and pulled her up to me gently. I lowered my lips to her ear. “No,” I said. She pushed back into me, my penis running between her cheeks.

I let go and she dropped back onto her hands. I lined myself up, running the tip of the condom along her slit. She whimpered as I teased and I pulled back fully, grasped her hips and pulled her back onto me.

I released her and she slid forwards. I held in place. “You need to do the work,” I said.

She began to rock back and forth, slowly increasing her pace. It was intense, but I was ready to last this time. She rubbed her clit but she couldn’t maintain the pace and dropped her hand back down.

After she did that a couple of times, I took control again. “Frig yourself as hard as you need,” I said and began thrusting. I held her hips and pounded in with long strokes. She kept one hand on the bed but used the other to rub frantically.

“Do you imagine this? Some faceless stranger taking you from behind?” I asked.

She moaned.

“Is this better than the fantasy?”

“So much. I’ll need a new one now I’m not a virgin anymore.”

“Taking my cock instead of your fingers or a hairbrush.”

She didn’t answer, just pushed back harder.

“What gets you off?”

She moaned. “It depends. Anything. Losing control.”

I held her hips tightly and thrust in faster, feeling her starting to shake. I slapped her bottom hard, making her jump forwards and then pull back.

I felt her come, moaning and convulsing, clamping around me. I kept thrusting through it until she pulled forwards and slumped down.

“OK?” I asked.

“More than OK. How should I finish you?”

“I’ve got an idea. On your back.”

She flopped over and I grabbed the back of her knees and pulled so her legs hung off the bed. I removed the condom and lay my penis in the cleft of her pussy.

I slowly, tortuously, moved back and forth, feeling that direct contact, feeling the texture of her lips, the hard pulse of her clitoris. I was so close.

She was leaning up on her elbows, watching me move, fascinated.

“Skin on skin,” I said.

I managed three more passes along her slit and then I came, hard. The first shot hit the poster on the wall behind her head and left a line pooling from her forehead to her bellybutton. The rest covered her stomach, leaking down onto the sheets. She reached up for me, arms around my neck. I could feel the cooling wet between our chests, the hard nubs of her nipples.

I held her until she let go and lay back looking up at me.

“Thank you,” she said.

“It was great for me,” I said.

“My parents are away, but I don’t really want you staying the night,” she said.

“No problem.” We lay together for long minutes. I considered kissing her but her face was buried in my shoulder.

“I think that’s enough,” she said.

“Whatever works for you. Can I use the shower?”

“Sure.”

I showered and when I came back to her bedroom, she was up and wearing new clothes but the bed was still a mess, the pink fabric darkened with our fluids.

She’d ordered pizza. When it arrived, we sat at the dining table eating it from the box, talking and laughing as though I was an old friend rather than the man she’d asked to practice sex with.

We talked about everything except sex, but it was there at the edge of the conversation.

When we finished, she said, “I was serious about wanting to explore other things with you — so many other things — but right now I need to clean up and then sleep forever.”

I gathered my things and left, excited for what else she wanted to do, stirring already.