The Canadian/ "A"

The Canadian marked quite an interesting chapter in my life. It’s quite hard to piece together what happened with him in terms of a historical timeline as there are many similar events and booty calls. I lost my virginity to him, in the sense that he was the first man I’d had penetrative sex with which could be classed as important, though it’s not something i particularly rue or something I have fond memories of. Personally i class myself as being sexually active since the days of G the 2nd. It was quite clinical, quick and no frills. We’d met through the internet again, a dating site where he’d introduced and we chatted online for a while before things turned sexual. Things started off when I said I did the sex toy testing, and we got onto the topics of fantasies. I never told him I was a virgin, which in hindsight I probably should have, as it basically made part of the downfall. Throughout the time i knew the Canadian he was struggling with finding employment and the prospect of having to move back to Canada. He would often whine about having no money, and how life was so terrible to him, i took pitty bacuse of these things. So we met each other in the town he was living in. At his house we started kissing in the kitchen of the little back to back house he lived in. I can remember enjoying the kiss and grabbing and groping him, as well as the surreal feeling of his Pembrokeshire corgi whining and scraping around my feet. A pushed me against the wall. By this time he was hard, and holding my hands he started this weird dry humping that must have been some benefit to him, but I’m not totally sure it was for me. We managed to make it up to his bedroom and we stripped off and started foreplay on his bed. Obviously because of his country of birth he was circumcised. The first cut man i had encountered, and at the time i was unsure of how to deal with this difference. Undeterred I started to lick and suck him. This wasn’t made much easier by him being sat on the bed and I leant across from the other side. He came none the less and I swallowed his cum, which was very bitter tasting. Then what followed was him sliding his fingers in and out of me and toying with my clit. I remember being too nervous to enjoy it fully, but my orgasm creeped up on me, his fingers felt so amazing on my g spot. Then came the sex. We hadn’t spoken about anything about relationships or where we stood with each other before that, so a three second conversation ensued, where we agreed “we’ll see”. The sex was ok, but not one of our best sessions for obvious reasons. I struggled to take him all inside me and the condoms we were using felt kind of weird too, but I guess it’s something that you get used to. We started off with missionary him on top of me, kissing me and talking dirty in my ear, I loved it. Missionary has quickly become my favourite, I love seeing a man’s facial reactions when they come, head tipped back, eyes rolled into their head and moaning so sexily. We would fuck like this many more times, occasionally changing into doggy and girl on top. The first time we fucked was in the august that I moved back to university for my second year. We were well and truly over with each other by that December. “A” got increasingly selfish every time we met. He only used to think of himself, and sex was often a frustrating routine of me sucking/stroking/fucking him till he came. Then him talking absolute nonsense, or me having to beg him to help me get off! The most memorable of these occasions is one day when I’d stayed up most of the night listening to him whine and moan about how bad life was. Upon seeing him the next morning and ensuring his orgasm we started the usual routine of me masturbating and him reluctantly sliding his fingers in and out of me, so far so good, that is until he shouted out something about a patch for the computer and ran off to fiddle about with the computer! Eventually we saw less and less of each other, and stopped talking.