Chapter 2940 A Perfect Gift (First Time Sex):>Ep2
- All girls seem to develop their own strange rules about when and where and to whom and how they're going to finally let a guy put his cock in her, and often there is no rhyme nor reason to it. As guys, all we can do is try to be in the right place at the right time. For Pam, even though she had decided to let me be the first guy to make love to her, the first barrier that needed to be broken before hymen was her age. She wanted to be officially an adult, 18 years old. Well, her 18th birthday had been a week ago, and finally we had arranged for the time and place for the next barrier to be broken: a certain little apartment in San Francisco, three blocks up from Fisherman's Wharf.
- The apartment belonged to Pam's college roommate, Kelly. Kelly, much wilder and infinitely more worldly than quieter, more innocent Pam, seemed to have any amount of money she needed, whether from her rich parents or her collection of wealthy part-time boyfriends. She seemed to maintain a lifestyle like a slightly scaled-down version of Paris Hilton. For example, just for the two-week winter break, Kelly had somehow secured a fully furnished one-bedroom apartment here in a trendy section of San Francisco, and she had invited Pam to share it with her. I had been enjoying most of my winter escape with my parents back home, but I was dying to see Pam again, especially since I'd missed her birthday, and I had counted the days and even the hours before I could be on the flight that would take me to San Fran where I'd get the next 96-hours with my girlfriend. I assumed I'd be staying in the apartment with the girls, perhaps crashing on the floor, but I'd worry about that later. I had other things on my mind!
- In what seemed like a blur of hugs and kisses and squeezes, I'd rung the buzzer, been let into the apartment, and thrown my bag somewhere. And the blur continued for some time. Finally, both of us gasping for air, Pam and I broke our embrace to take a look at each other at last. I was clad casually in cargo pants, a loose button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and an old, worn leather jacket. Pam was barefoot in tight hip-hugger jeans and a wonderfully thin white tank-top hinting at the black bra beneath. She also wore a soft wool sweater with the zipper open to keep the chill of the night off, but with one side sliding down to expose a pretty alabaster shoulder and collar bone.