She stepped over the threshold, reached back without looking, took my hand, and led me into the dark and silent house. I didn't close the door because I had a vague feeling that it would signify something that I wasn't sure I was capable of signifying.

'Close the door', she whispered a little impatiently.

It clicked closed and I stood still. She set off silently across the void...

'Don't they have lights?’ I wondered to myself.

'Dong, dong, dong...' and a whirring of cogs and springs. 'Jesus Christ!' My heart nearly stopped. The clock on the wall chimed the witching hour and I thought:

'I really must be going now. If that door to the hallway should open, even with us standing like this, fully-clothed yards apart in the dark, there would be shame poured on me and my family that would not wash off for years.'

I didn't think those words exactly, but that was truly the way I felt.

Another click and the spinning flame-effect on an electric fire sprang into life, subtly scattering its rather too predictable patterns across the room. The bars started to glow too. It was cold in that house - this was the days when few had central heating - I was nervous and shaking a little and so drawn to the heat. Without saying a word, Judith vanished in the direction of the downstairs loo. The house had exactly the same layout as ours did so I knew the kitchen was through there too. Pretty soon there'd be a cup of hot coffee to get my hands round. I sat on the settee by the fire waiting, admiring the stone fireplace and chimney-breast her father had famously built by himself. It had little alcoves, each containing an ornament lit by an unseen tiny light that I had somehow only just noticed. I'd been here several times before - our gang sometimes played cards at the table behind me when her mum and dad were out. 'Cheat' was the game we enjoyed the most. At that moment the irony was lost on me.

Presently Judith came back, ruffled my hair, then lay on the floor between me and the fire. Her eyes were focused perfectly on mine.

'Make love to me.'

'Er...'

I had to do better than that.

'Er...'

Dear me.

'I... '

We're getting there.

'I... ddon't know where to ssstart'. I stammer anyway to this day but then I was stammering from the cold, stammering with fear. She looked so fucking good, lying on the rug, hair like a black halo around her head, hands provocatively touching her own breasts, her naked legs alternately rising and falling, rubbing against each other.

'Start wherever you like', she purred, stretching her arms above her head, tilting her pelvis, inhaling through almost closed lips.

I joined her on the floor still in my jacket. If anything went wrong that night - and not much did - then this was it: I didn't take my jacket off. Well I did, but not at first. I hadn't learnt the golden sex rule that implores both parties to remove their clothes at roughly the same rate and time.

I kissed her, ran my hands over her, up her dress, over her panties. She lay back and moaned loudly - too loudly for my liking - and I stopped a moment to listen for creaks on the stairs.

'Unzip me'

She sat up and I did as I was told, pulling the sizzling zipper down her back. Her dress seemed to fall to pieces - one minute it was on her and now it was off. Then her bra was off too: I'd reached round the back and unclipped it - ten years of studying women's underwear in the 'Grattan' catalogue finally paid off. I let the straps fall from her shoulders, peeled it from her breasts and placed it ceremoniously on one side; unlike the last time I held her bra, I now had other, better things on my mind.

And there they were, in the flesh, suspended miraculously in space, the most wonderful pair of tits you could ever wish to see. I cupped one, I kissed one. Then I kissed her lips while I stroked them. I rubbed her nipples gently and was again amazed by how they behaved, rising up like tiny penises. This was going well. I was confident, assured. I somehow seemed to know what to do...

Then I remembered - it was all in the magazines I'd read: that first one that Martyn 'lent' me with the farmer's daughter's photos and the reader's letters describing their unlikely exploits (I never gave it him back - my cum eventually stuck all the pages together); that picture-less but very graphic 'Forum' one of the lads found in a sea-front bin on that school trip to Blackpool that was almost medically descriptive of the sex act and relative organs; the 'Mayfair' I sheepishly bought from the local newsagent's then learnt by heart Fiona Richmond's exploits as she shagged her way around Europe. I'd got instruction from some of the best and most knowledgeable fucks on the planet - men and women - and now was the time to show what they'd taught me: my entrance exam to the best club in the world. Thank you! My big chance! No holds barred! This is it! Watch me closely. I'll try not to let you down.

She lay back now and I kissed those tits, those magnificent tits, cast with dramatic amber shadows by the faux flames, then kissed down her body till I reached her panties. I parted her legs and tongued them into her cunt, and stimulated her clit through them, just like Fiona had enjoyed in Belgium ('... he drove me wild with frustration'). I reached up and played with her tits too, using 'all the erogenous zones simultaneously, to enhance the female's enjoyment', to quote 'Forum'. I pulled her panties to one side and ventured a tiny lick of her lips, just like in one of the readers' letters. She was very wet and even those hyperbolic mags hadn't prepared me for just how much there would be. I lapped at it. I swallowed some. I can taste it now but still can't describe it. Hooking my fingers over the elastic, I pulled the skimpy underwear down her legs and over her feet, then knelt up to look at her. Magnificent. She writhed like a serpent and bucked her back, waiting for my next trick. This was better than I ever dreamed.

My head was soon between her legs, still playing with her tits, but alternately now. My other hand was looking for her hole. I was still a little lost down there - folds and flaps, wetness and pubic hair. And it was nearly dark too. The fire was burning my leg through my trousers and the dark side was cold, but Judith seemed not to notice anything except where I had my hands and mouth. I stroked her, probed her, opened her up and slid my fingers inside her. I remembered where the clitoris should be and prepared to concentrate on that area. Then I remembered Fiona's wisest words:

'Too hard a lick too soon can put a randy lady right off!'

So I kissed her there. Then again. A sweet, almost innocent kiss.

'Oh, this is beautiful, beautiful...' she whispered.

Thanks Fiona! Now I licked her, again finding her pubic hair a little off-putting but I stuck at my task. Another tip from 'Forum' now:

'Rub the clitoris with your fingers while you tongue-fuck her. Seek out her ass-hole and pop your tongue in. She'll hit the roof.'

Not quite the roof but she loved it.

'Oooh, you naughty, naughty boy. Again... uh… again!'

I licked her clit and fingered her cunt, fingered her arse and licked her cunt, tongued her arse and fingered her cunt... you work out all the variations - I have a mind for that sort of thing and did them all in an organised manner. I also remembered another golden rule, another gem from 'Forum':

'Use different fingers for her anus and vagina - germs can be spread from one to the other, causing infection.'

So I hygienically and methodically sucked and licked and then finger fucked her for ages, to the point where I was just going through the motions really. It was no longer sex at all, just something I had to do, like the washing up. And I could feel my cock had gone soft... how could it have? I'm performing cunnilingus - some more wonderful 'Forum' vocabulary - on the most beautiful, the sexiest girl on Earth and I can't get it up? Am I gay? Then she started to moan louder - much louder - almost shouting now:

'Nnngggghhh, nnnnggghhhh...'

She bucked so hard I was all on to hold her down. It was like an earthquake. But I held onto her, rode it out, just like Fiona had taught me, keeping her stimulated right up to the end. It seemed to last an age, but at last she collapsed, spent, her breath rasping and heavy. My fingers slid out of her and I kissed her clitoris one more time.

But then she was up! As soon as I released my grip she sprung into action, like an animal feigning death to escape its captor. Her breath was noisy as if she was sobbing as she pushed me on my back, undid my trousers and violently pulled them down, pants too. This is not what I wanted to greet the first woman to set eyes on me in a sexual way: a flaccid cock, lying limply to one side, pre-cum glistening on the shriveled foreskin. I think she was surprised too - that would not be the effect her naked body normally had on men. She wanked me furiously till I had a semi and then sat astride me and tried to push it into her. She failed. I reached for her wonderful, dangling tits and it hardened a little more; she got some purchase and she rode me, hard, like she was giving my abdomen the third phase of CPR with her inner-thighs. As I felt my cock become a rigid truncheon inside her, a sudden thought struck me, and this, roughly, is what it was:

'This is it! I'm fucking a woman. I'm FUCKING a woman. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Ha! Haha! Fucking. I'M FUCKING!!!!'

And not just a woman. This was Judith. The Judith of my sexual dreams. I let myself go and almost immediately started to cum inside her. All the previous hours of pleasure, excitement and frustration had built up to this. I speared that gorgeous woman's cunt and squirted and squirted my spunk inside her as her tits bounced in my face. What a sight. What a feeling. I will never forget it.

'Fucking hell. I've done it. I've cum inside a woman!'

I obviously didn’t shout it, that would not have been cool, but my thoughts were so loud that I imagined she could have heard them. A huge wave of relief swept over me; a burden I didn't even know I was carrying fell by the wayside and vanished in a puff of smoke. God knows what noises I had made, but I'd definitely made some, and I should imagine my language was a little coarse too. But I was intoxicated, exhilarated, ‘gone’. If her dad had walked in at that moment I'd have wiped the spunk and cunt juice mixture that was slowly dripping onto my belly from her and flicked it in his face, giving him a V sign with the other hand while hissing:

‘Go back to bed and wait till I've done!’

This was my moment and I was wallowing in it.

She lay on top of me, kissing me. Then she climbed off and pulled me to my knees and we kissed. And that's where I evened things up. I started to get undressed.

'Whaa...t? She laughed. 'You're fucking keen!'

I was not going to waste this. Jacket, shirt, soon on the floor. I took off my socks, pulled my trousers and pants over my ankles and there we were - totally buck naked, hugging each other, less than 4 yards - as the death-watch beetle burrows - away from where her mum and dad and sister were hopefully, but doubtfully after that racket, still sleeping.

Do you like doggy style? she quizzed.

'Yes, course', I answered, like I did it everyday. Fiona loved this one and I was well versed in why: 'His hard cock slid forcefully into me from behind, hitting my G spot with every thrust, taking me to the very edge of ecstasy. He reached round and toyed with my clit'.

She turned around and offered herself. I was still soft, but recovering. The sight of those lovely cheeks and what lay between soon got me going again. I fucked her like that, popping in and out a few times but eventually getting back to what I would call an erection. Then I felt around her and cupped both her tits. I touched her clit too as she backed forcefully into me. Again, what a feeling - her arse slapping into me, my cock totally surrounded by her tight slippery cunt, her huge tits bouncing around in my hands.

'Wait till I see Martyn', (of the original wank mag) I told myself. 'He'll never believe this!'

All too soon I felt the all too familiar feelings welling up. But this was new. I didn't close my eyes and wait for the images to come; I opened my eyes and took them in. Opened my ears too, to her moans, her demands ('Fuck me! Fuck me!)' and the noises that two bodies can make: the squelching, the slapping. I licked my lips and tasted her still on me. Then I reached forward and grabbed a handful of her hair. Oh, Fiona, that you were there! You would have given me a standing ovation and a lifetime's free subscription. I used the hair like reins and pulled her back onto me. She slapped her arse into my belly just one time too many and I spurted inside her once again, the backwards-thrusting movements slowly grinding to a halt as she eventually felt my post-coital discomfort.

She let my cock slip out of her and then turned and kissed me again. I knew we weren't finished by the look on her face. She reached down and 'twiddled' with me, giggling in that gorgeous way of hers. She kissed me while she played, her tongue touching every part of my mouth. Then she went down on me. Her head just dropped and her lips were around me. Oh bliss! I was soft but I was in a woman's mouth and it surely wouldn't be soft like that for long. I felt it start to swell, and then, surprisingly, fail... again she tried, pulling back the foreskin and licking it clean. Again it started to rise, but the 'plug' didn't slip into place and I started to doubt that it would. Down it went again, a balloon with a neck that would not tie. I thought I maybe ought to get dressed and just go home. She knew better though and started to tickle my balls. How sensitive they suddenly were - I'd never noticed when I was wanking: they were just two hard lumps swinging about in a sack.

'Mmmmm, you like that don't you', she giggled again, feeling her mouth starting to fill.

Her hands rubbed between my legs and touched my arse, then my balls again... so sweet! She was so gentle, her fingers danced on me like feathers. Her tongue and hands, lips and teeth all played their part to get me erect again. Now she lay back, parted her legs, pulled me between them and guided me inside her. I fucked her long and hard till she rocked violently again and came beneath me. Again I'd remembered my lessons well, whispering very rude things in her ear that she really liked, squeezing and sucking her nipples. My cum started to rise too, and though the orgasm wasn't great - I was just too spunked out - I came too, managing to keep inside her to the very end, despite her best efforts to throw me off.

Three times. I came three times. First fuck: three times. And she came twice. Thank you the Gods of Porn. Thank you Fiona (xxx) and thank you Paul Raymond (Fiona's boyfriend for a while, back then) - whose erotic empire ruled the pornographic publishing world - for making it all possible.

We stood and I kissed her, like lovers do.

'How many girls have you had?' she asked me, softly.

'You are my first.'

Her response was instant and very loud.

'What? Really? Never? That was your first time? Fucking hell, you were really good! First time? Never? Really? You were a virgin? Really? Fucking hell!'

She was a little surprised. She enthused some more, interspersing her words with hugs and kisses.

'Oh, God, I'm so glad I was your first. Oh God, Alex, I'm so glad. I'll always be your first! Always! I'm so glad. That was fantastic. God, you were good! First time. Really? I don't believe it...'

I was suddenly taller than she was and I held her and didn't want to let go. I bent and kissed her tits again, cupping them in my hands, staring at them in wonder, thinking I might never get another chance. I got dressed, kissed the tits again, kissed her mouth, felt between her legs - oh, the soft, warm, sweet touch of my spunk and her juices. And we kissed again, long and hard; pulled away and laughed, then kissed some more.

'I would love to take you to bed' she said.

***********************************************

I suddenly became aware of sounds downstairs. Bright daylight permeated the room, penetrated my eyelids - I must have slept in. I lifted up the covers and looked underneath, down to where not so long ago I had been enveloped by a woman's hand, mouth and vagina. I would never wash it again. How could I even think of it? Even though it was a little crusty and it flaked off when I touched it. I was a man. I know it's a cliché, but at that moment, looking under the covers at my broken-in cock, I had somehow grown up.

I started to masturbate, focusing on last night's activities, imagining I would spring to attention and cum very quickly at the memories I had stored: the undressing, the kissing, the touching, licking, fucking; the feel of her flesh, her breasts, the sweet hotness of her mouth around me, the taste of her cunt... and the moment I finally lost my virginity - Judith riding me wildly, pounding down onto me, my hands around her fabulous tits, her hair swishing, her voice imploring... 'Fuck me, fuck me! I got semi-hard, but not fully and gave up... If that didn’t work then nothing would and I didn't have the heart for it. This worried me. Now I'd fucked, would wanking not appeal to me any more? Would it now always be a sad, single person's last refuge? Now I'd joined the ranks of the fucked would I spend my whole life searching for a comparative experience, eschewing all self-stimulation?

I'd turned down her invitation to join her in bed. It wasn't difficult. I knew that once her head hit the pillow she'd be out cold and then I'd be trapped in a very dangerous situation. So, I kissed her again and left the house. I got half way across her back yard and turned back to give her a wave. I even asked her what she was doing tomorrow and she just laughed, said goodnight and closed the door. I wanted, more than anything to fuck her again. After all those years I'd found someone who would let me do it, and I had one more day before she was married to do it again. Surely you don't blame me for asking? Oh, right. Ok then...

When I'd got home my elder brother had just got in from a night of drinking. He gave me a funny look but didn't say anything - I wondered if my exploits had spread around the little town as people went from pub to pub. At first I hoped they had... then thought how her husband-to-be would feel if he found out and I shriveled inside. I felt guilty for doing it, but knew it was my one big chance and I was glad we’d done it. I couldn't believe anybody had lost their virginity more successfully or more spectacularly and simply couldn't feel bad about it for long.

She'd asked me to go to the reception in the local village hall, so I did. Just for half an hour. She saw me and ran to me, whispered, 'I wore this dress for you', and I realised it was the one I'd taken off her about 44 hours before. She was drunk again. Her girlfriends looked on horrified. One of the husbands took me on one side and said:

'I want you to forget what happened the other night. Donald is my pal and I'll kill you if he finds out.'

'What happened?'

'Good, that's what I want to hear. Now why don't you just go.'

You probably don't believe what I've just told you, her words about the dress, my callousness for going. It's all true. I can't really explain it now except maybe I was still on a high and needed to show off, and so did she. That sounds very sick but it’s as close as I can get.  I think I now understand most of the conflicts that people experience at such intimate times. I've had my heart broken since and now have first-hand experience to guide me, but back then I was a mess.  Because of that night I have coped with my own tribulations better than I might have done, accepting that ‘what goes around comes around’. My own failings have helped me to forgive others. I was young, I saw a chance and took it. If I hadn't I would have regretted it all my life, despite the hurt that I know I helped to inflict (he couldn’t have known about me specifically, but that doesn’t vindicate me for anything). As it is, I simply look back and think warmly of it, knowing that if I hadn't been the lucky boy, then someone else would have been. And our histories sort of drew us together to that point, so that it all flowed so naturally, like it was meant to be. It was meant to be. I can see now that it was obvious she was always going to be my first.

***********************************************

It took me two years to find a steady girlfriend, so masturbation once again became my chief entertainment. Five more years later I was driving past the tennis club where Judith and I had played on that wet summer's day ten years before. I stopped to have a look. The courts had changed - they'd been resurfaced and had new netting erected. The clubhouse had been rebuilt, now in red brick and the place looked very good. On court 1 was a dark haired woman, heavily handicapped by huge breasts, grunting and shouting her way through a singles match. I got out of the car and walked down to the courtside.

'Hi!'

'Hiya! Where've you been? It's been ages!'

I told her I was a musician, traveling around Britain, Europe, doing my damndest to earn a crust. She was impressed - I didn't even play when she'd fucked me seven years before.

'Do you still play tennis?'

'No, not for a few years.' Her opponent waited patiently.

'Do you fancy a game... tomorrow?'

My girlfriend of 5 years was abroad on holiday with her friend. I was sure she was getting some extras in and so I acquiesced, hoping beyond hope that Judith had more than tennis on her mind.

'Yeah, that would be great. Six o'clock?'

'Make it six-thirty... I have to get back from town.'

'See you here then! Bye!'

So we played. We ran each other into the ground and retired into the clubhouse as the light started to fail, sweating, breathing hard, at about 9 pm. I lost. We sat and talked about work, about tennis, about husbands and girlfriends. We talked about our night together and she said she still thought about it, said it was great. She asked me if I felt bad about it and I said a little. She said don't, it was very special. She told me about some videos she'd watched with Donald - pornographic ones - and asked me if I'd ever seen any. I said no. She described one to me in graphic detail and I grew very hard. She stood and did some of the actions in front of me, to aid my visualisation... then said:

'You don't want to go home, do you?'

'No.'

She turned off the lights and came to me. The streetlights were on at this time and they shone through the open curtains, their amber light reminding me of when I had first made love to her.

She sat next to me, her mouth on mine, kissing passionately, hands on my groin. She undid my shorts and searched for where a hard cock should be standing... it had got trapped horizontally in my pants as it had grown and she didn't find it. She must have thought I wasn't turned on. I reached down and freed it and it sprung up hard and erect. She gasped and went down on me, took me deep, wanking and sucking noisily. I reached round her back and unclipped her bra, pulled up her T-shirt and freed her tits from their constraints and again we were at it. I cupped them, then squeezed them and kissed her neck, while she sucked, bit and licked me right to the edge. She stood and peeled off her top, let her bra drop to the floor, then stood there in nothing but a short tennis skirt, frilly knickers, ankle socks, and trainers. Her tits were big and firm, impossibly so. She then took my hand and led me to the sofa... despite the new building, it was the very one she'd lain on all those years before when it had rained and rained. Again she spread herself out, only this time I pulled down her frilly panties and dived straight in, fingering and licking, showing her all the expertise I'd gathered in the intervening years. Her pubic hair was very neatly shaved and I got mouthful after mouthful of her juices. She came very quickly, hard and long, very noisily too. Then she pulled off my shirt, pulled me inside her, wrapped her legs around my back and I pumped into her.

'Huh, huh, fuck me, fuck me, nhuh, nghuh, fuck... me...'

It didn't take me long. I kissed her sweet nipples as I came. She was still a very beautiful and sexy woman. She carried a few more pounds but not much more. What a fabulous unrestrained fuck she was: everything a man could wish for. She had the lot – except fidelity, but now neither did I have that quality: we were made for each other.

We walked up the shadowy path and back to our cars.

'We're very good together aren't we?' I realised she was holding my hand as she spoke. She sensed my unease even in this secluded public place and drew it away.

'Yes we are.'

'I'd love to do it again... tomorrow?'

Last time I was asking and she was refusing.

'OK.'

I carelessly kissed her in the dark empty street and waved as she drove away.

The day after we both turned up but she was nervous, as if expecting someone else to show up at any moment. We kissed and touched but that was it. My hand cupped her breast but there was a stiffness and restraint about her I’d never sensed before. We played a couple of sets and I went home.

***********************************************

Twenty years pass by. I’m back in my hometown, visiting my mum who still lives in the same house of my childhood. On my way home I once again drive past the courts, just for old-times’ sake, my young son in the car with me. There is a doubles match on court and a guy I remember from my tennis-playing days is involved in it. He hasn't changed a bit - well, hair a bit thinner, but it's him. I stop the car and we walk to the court.

'Dave!'

'Alex! How you been?

I get to the courtside and we start to talk. His partner, a plump grey-haired woman sidles over.

'Alex?'

It's Judith's mum... but how can that be, she never played... and anyway she'll be seventy something now... I'm shocked but try not to show it. But she knows I didn't recognise her and that's something I can't put right. Her eyes are the same though, full of mischief. And her laugh is the same sexy laugh I heard in the pub twenty-seven years before.

'I've put on a few pounds... and the grey hair too.’ She runs her fingers through it and looks coyly at me. ’But you look fabulous, no older! What are you taking?'

I watch the match to its end and we all go inside the red brick building. Dave makes tea for everyone. Judith asks what I’m doing now and tells me about her life: a long affair that wrecked her marriage and (as usually happens) someone else's; her daughter to her first husband (the girl is now older than Judith was when I first made love to her). And I hear about her new bloke who is fifteen years younger than her. He'll need to be. He’d better be fit too just to keep up, if she's anything like she used to be.

I introduce my son. She tosses him a tennis ball to keep, ruffles his hair and laughs at the likeness between us. She looks around the room and then at me.

‘Do you remember?’ she whispers and giggles.

‘Oh yes’ I say smiling and roll my eyes, ‘I’ll never forget.’ She holds my gaze for what seems like an age and if I didn’t know better I’d say there was love there in those brown eyes.

Thank God there were other people there or we’d have been at it again.

We say our restrained, slightly awkward goodbyes and my son and I walk away. Again I remind myself, with a smiling shake of the head, that she was my first and always will be. Thank you, Judith. Thank you. I have been blessed. I will never forget you.