I never told this to a soul, not even my husband, who died thinking he was my “first.” Now that he’s gone, I feel a need to share the story.

It was the time of my 18th birthday, and my parents were going away. They were apologetic as heck about missing my big day, but they had a chance to do an all-expenses-paid three-week cross-country trip, and I said of course they should go, I’d be fine. So we did a small party before they left.

They had decided I was responsible enough to stay alone and keep the farm going, but they knew that though we were six miles out of town, we had neighbors close enough to call if I ran into problems.

I had a boyfriend at the time, and we fooled around, especially now when I suddenly had all this privacy. But Wilmer was into me more than I was into him, and I wasn’t that eager to “do the dirty” with him. I might have changed my mind, but he had to go away for a while, leaving me alone with the days counting down to my parents’ return.

I began to feel as if I’d wasted a golden opportunity. One day, feeling really horny, I just threw myself at a farmhand. He wasn’t bad-looking. We did it out in the field, without much fanfare. He shoved his thing in me. It hurt at first, and bled, and after that it was okay.

That’s not much of a “first time” story, I’ll admit. But I actually do have one.

It was a couple of days later, in fact the day before my parents’ return. I’d been so involved with farm stuff that I hadn’t gone into town to shop for groceries and such. So when that day’s chores were done, I drove into town in Dad’s pickup and did all the shopping the frugal way Mom taught me.

My one splurge was a small cone of soft ice cream, which I took to the park to enjoy. At a picnic table nearby I noticed a fellow about my age drinking a beer from a small cooler he had, along with a backpack. It would have been hard not to notice him, because he was gorgeous — he had the look of a beautiful corn-fed farm boy with the body of a sleek-muscled Greek god.

Now this was one sorry-ass “party” he was having there by himself. I took my ice-cream cone over to the picnic table and asked if he was okay. His face lit up. He had the most melting smile, and I melted as he said, “I’m fine, but thanks for asking.”

I introduced myself, and soon got Charley’s story. He had hitched here from Omaha on a tip about camping and fishing spots where he could spend his last couple of days before going into the Army. Only he hadn’t found the camping spots and was killing time till it was time to hitch back to Omaha.

I told him about our pond, which Dad had cleared and built a little cabin by, for us and for friends. I told him he was welcome to stay as long as he liked. He brightened again, that smile of his going straight to my pussy. I had him dump his stuff in the pickup, and we stopped first at the house, where he helped me unload the stuff I had bought in town, and then it was off to the pond.

“It’s incredible,” he said, and the way he beamed made me want to strip him and ravish his naked body. “How can I ever thank you?” he said. I knew a way, but was too ladylike to say it.

“Is it okay to swim?” he said. I said sure, figuring he had a Speedo on under his shorts, and fantasizing how hot he must look in it. Then he peeled off his T-shirt and shorts, and he wasn’t wearing anything underneath! Talk about looking hot!

He immediately threw his hands over his private parts and said, “God, what was I thinking? I’m sorry, Rina.”

My poor eyes didn’t know where to go: to the vast expanse of breathtaking flesh that was fully bared or to the precious parts barely concealed by Charley’s hands.

“Buddy,” I said, “do not tell me that you’re going to seriously apologize for that body!” His face went red, an odd contrast with the rest of him, which was a gorgeous bronze except for the tiny patch of creamy flesh set off by a Speedo-like tan line. Idiotically, all I could think was how amazing he must look in that Speedo, forgetting that he was standing there stark naked!

So I did the logical thing. I ripped off my clothes. Charley’s eyes were riveted to me, and his cock rose rapidly. It was a beauty!

I was used to being ogled. The stupid boys I grew up around had been doing it ever since I had a body to ogle. Now I had a real man to show off to! I wasn’t tan the way Charley was, but I was tan enough to set off those bitty areas my bikinis had kept white. I jiggled my tits a little and saw Charley start to breathe hard.

Needing to feel my bare flesh pressing against his, I hurried to him and clasped that body as tight as I could, and did he ever hug back! He was probably six inches taller than me, so I had to get up on tiptoes to press my lips to his. But then he bent over and kissed me like I’d only dreamt of being kissed.

It felt like forever that we stayed kissing with our bodies interlocked and his erection raging into me. But it wasn’t near enough. Incredibly, I was the one who broke it up! I said, “Didn’t I hear something about swimming?” And with that, I trotted to, then into, the pond. When I turned around, I saw Charley striding manfully into the water. And a moment later he was holding me. How often had I splashed around this pond fantasizing about just such a moment?

We must have frolicked for an hour, exploring each other’s body. It felt totally natural when Charley lifted me effortlessly in his powerful arms and carried me to the grass near the pond, set me down and slid his cock in me. My second-ever fuck was everything I’d dreamt of. It went on and on, until he tensed up, then pulled out and spewed ribbons of come on me. I scooped it up with my fingers and ate it. I was in heaven!

We lay recovering on the grass. Finally I told Charley that if he didn’t mind giving up his camping plan, I’d like to take him back to the house, make dinner and spend the night making love. Which was exactly what we did. We showered, then retired to my bed. When Charley slid in beside me, he asked, “Was I okay, you know, before?”

I couldn’t think what he might mean. I said, “You can’t mean when we made love?” He said yes, and I said, “Granted, I don’t have much to compare it with, but I thought it was the most wonderful thing that could ever possibly happen to me.”

His whole body relaxed. After another long kiss, he said, “I didn’t want to let you down, it being my first time.”

I just looked at him. At last I said, “You’re kidding,” and burst out laughing. Seeing that he was hurt, I quickly said, “Charley, I’m sorry, it’s just, I can’t believe you didn’t know it was magical for me. And now I was thinking, so I’m the wanton slut who took this beautiful boy’s cherry?”

We fell asleep making love, and resumed when we woke. I told Charley he was welcome to stick around to meet my folks, but he didn’t want to. I told him he could camp by the pond for as long as he liked, but he said no, he should get back to Omaha. So, after he helped me with my farm chores, I drove him all the way. I left a note for my folks.

We swapped addresses and stayed in touch for a while. In my mind we were going to get married and live happily ever after. But after a while Charley didn’t answer my letters, and eventually I gave up.

By then Wilmer and I were fucking regularly, and it was okay. He was a good guy and we had a happy marriage. But every time we fucked, I thought of Charley.