Somehow we ended up in her bedroom and she was close to me. Her sweet face moved in for the kill and her plump lips touched mine. Pure was an old school yard crush of mine that dated back way too many years to count. One day we bumped into each other in Manhattan and exchanged info...one date led to another. The third date was a daytime date at her parents home on a weekend just us two...and now the bedroom where she was showing me her artwork.
Her lips were sweet, her doe eyes batted at me. My hands roamed over her wide hips and round ass. She didn't have any of that when last we knew each other and now she was a full fledged woman. My hungry fingertips slid up the soft material of her leggings. They moved to the spot that called them like a homing beacon. With the softness of a tender kitten, I touched the outline of her plump kitty...and she jerked away.
"Uh uh...I'm not ready for that. If I get started then I'm scared of what I'll do." Pure said.
"I don't judge, don't be scared." I said kissing the sides of her neck.
I felt her melt in my arms again. Her nipples perked through the thin material of her brown tank top. With the matching brown leggings and brown tank top she looked to be standing naked in front of me in the room. I wished she was, but she pulled away again.
"I really don't want to. I'm a freak. I know I'm a freak. I can feel it in me. I don't want that freaky shit to erupt, I may be insatiable..." She sighed. "..But I'm a virgin..."
She's a freak...but a virgin. I was dumbfounded. This very attractive woman in her mid twenties with all the weaponry needed to render a man senseless, was a freak virgin. I had to give her credit though. She wasn't scared to be a freak. So even though I did the responsible thing and ceased all freakyness, I respected the fact that she let her freak flag fly. However, I didn't want to be responsible for turning her out. That's just not fair.
My question to you, if a virgin can admit to being a freak, why can't you?