Sex researchers say about a third of Polish men are virgins into their early 20s. I don't know if that's true, but my experience backs it up. Younger guys I sleep with almost never admit they’re new to it. Sometimes, the signs are obvious. Some women find it a turn-off, but I like it: the hesitant hands, overly eager eyes, clumsy attempts to undress me. Sure, it can be awkward, but I find it endearing.

Lars’s bank runs a competition for university students focused on math, coding, and stock trading—super nerdy stuff. He tried explaining it to me once, but I only kind of understood. They give students old stock data and have them write a program to trade stocks based on what it learned from that data. 

I asked Lars to take me to one of these competitions. Watching it wasn't too thrilling. It was held in a big conference room. Four finalist teams occupied separate tables in the corners of the room. Each team had two or three students, all young guys, coding intensely.

These guys were interesting. I noticed a guy who blushed while talking to his team. Another laughed a bit too hard at a joke, with his hands shaking slightly. One guy walked stiffly to get a drink, avoiding eye contact, looking more at ease with his laptop than with people. 

After it was over, the guys were just sent home—no winner's ceremony or celebration. Lars explained they submitted their “trading strategies” to run on fake stock market data for a week. Whichever strategy consistently earns the most “profit” wins.

I was disappointed. How was I supposed to hook up with any of these nerds without an afterparty?

“You’ll have to figure something out,” Lars said.

Just then, one of the guys—the nervous one who laughed too hard—came over with a question for Lars. After Lars answered, he introduced me.

“This is Ania,” he said. “She wants to talk to you.”

“Hi, Ania, I’m Tomek,” he said, friendly and full of energy. It was impressive—he’d just finished a tough competition but still seemed hyped up on adrenaline.

“Nice to meet you, Tomek,” I replied. “I’m a student at Politechnika Warszawska. I’m a journalism major. I’m writing a story for our student newspaper about the competition.”

I was improvising. I’m 27—do I even look like a student? But Tomek didn’t seem to notice anything off.

 “Yes, of course!” he said eagerly. “Let’s talk! Would you like to meet my teammates?”

 “I’d like to talk to you first. Can I take you to dinner? You can tell me all about it over a meal…”

 “Oh, yes! Thanks! I’m actually starving!”

 I said goodbye to Lars, who slipped me his hotel room key with a smile.

Tomek and I walked to the nearest restaurant. Over a big portion of gołąbki, he chatted non-stop about his team, the competition, and his love for finance algorithms. I leaned in closer.

“So, Tomek, what do you like to do when you’re not working on projects?”

He hesitated, then said he recently took up swimming and plays guitar in a band.

I listened, touching his arm now and then.

“I think it’s so attractive when someone’s passionate about math and algorithms,” I told him.

He looked surprised. “Really? You find my hobbies attractive?”

I laughed softly and squeezed his arm playfully again.

“What about you, Tomek? What do you find attractive?”

He seemed caught off guard, stumbled a bit, then started sharing more about himself. I ordered wine (for my U.S. readers: the drinking age in Poland is 18), and the conversation flowed easily from there.

After dinner, I paid the bill and offered to cover a taxi for Tomek, who lived with his parents in another part of the city. I told him I was staying in a hotel since I was visiting from Warsaw, so the taxi would drop me off first, then take him home.

In the taxi, I moved closer to him and kissed him. He was startled at first, but then he kissed back. He even wrapped his arms around me. So cute!

Our kisses got deeper. My hands wandered over Tomek. I got my palm under his shirt and felt his nipple with my fingers. His breathing got faster.

As we arrived at the hotel. I grinned.

"Want to come up to my room?" I asked.

Tomek nodded.

We walked quickly through the hotel lobby, holding hands.

Strictly speaking, it was not my hotel room.  Lars maintained it so that he can always have a place to meet women. Sometimes he allowed me to use it for my adventures. I hoped it was clean.

We burst through the door. The room was, thankfully, clean. I locked lips with Tomek and pushed him against the door. My hands roamed across his body. I felt his bulge with my belly.

His hands reached for my blouse, clumsily attempting to unbutton it.

I playfully pushed him towards the bed. I quickly removed his belt and tugged down his trousers.  He gave up on trying to remove my blouse bra. Instead, he was just cupping my breasts and teasing them over the fabric.

Seeing his desperation, I peeled off my blouse, took off my panties, and unhooked my bra, letting it fall to the floor.

Tomek paused for a second to take in the sight.

I pulled him down onto the bed, straddling him.

His cock was rock-hard.

I ran my fingers down his stomach and wrapped them around his cock.

"Seems like someone is ready," I teased.

I looked into his eyes with a playful grin,

I stroked him slowly, watching his breath catch with each touch. His eyes begged for more. I leaned close and whispered:

"Patience... we're just starting."

After one last stroke, I positioned myself above him. I wanted to fuck him in a cowgirl position. The tip of his cock nudged at my moist entrance. I started easing myself down.

With every bit of his cock that I took in, the inner muscles of my vagina clamped around his length. Each pulse of his cock was sending waves of raw pleasure.

I paused momentarily when I felt his pubic bone against mine. I had taken him in completely.

After I was fully impaled, I started moving slowly, finding a rhythm. My hands pressed against his chest, balancing. I began to ride him faster.

"Like that?" I teased, looking down at him.

When I felt Tomek nearing the edge, I almost stopped moving. I could feel him throbbing inside me. His body tensed up. Young men can cum way too fast sometimes. The trick is to edge them—bring them close, then pause, let them cool down a bit. Then you start again and pause again... Knowing when to pause comes with experience. A girl needs to recognize the stiffening and twitching of the cock inside her, so she can time it just right. Plus, she needs to be in control. This is why the cowgirl position is perfect.

But I digress.

After a bit, I started moving again, slowly, deeply.

"You have to wait," I murmured.

His hands gripped me tighter, urging me to go faster. But I kept the slow pace.

I was teasing him like that for a while   - riding him and then stopping, and then resuming my movements.

Finally, I quickened enough to get him to climax. His cock was swelling.

His orgasm was epic. He moaned loudly and started releasing massive loads inside me. Wave after wave, his semen poured out, filling me up. Each spurt was thick and hot. Each pulse was adding more and more to the amount already inside me.  The warmth from his cum spread throughout my pelvis.

His cock continued to throb.

His spasms pushing out more and more cum inside me were endless.

Finally, he relaxed.

I lied down near him, playing with his nipples.

I wanted to get some rest after fucking him, but then, afte maybe two or three minutes passed, I heard his voice:

"It was so good! Are you ready for the next round?"

Next round? What? I looked at his cock. It was erect again!

Long story short, I did not get much rest that evening.

I wasn't sure if Tomek was really a virgin, but it seemed like he possessed a reservoir of energy that other girls hadn't tapped into.  He was fucking me sloppily, hungrily. His thrusts were erratic, desperate, with a raw urgency that didn't follow any rhythm. Each push was forceful, sometimes missing the mark. His hands gripped my hips roughly, pulling me into him.

I was tired, but he wasn't done with me. He fucked me like I was his first and maybe his last.

Maybe he thought he wouldn't get this lucky again. So, he used me all he could.

I was fine with that. I let myself be his fucktoy. I wanted to wear him out.

Finally, after what seemed like endless cum, he started to slow down. His thrusts became more controlled but still deep. Despite my exhaustion, I felt a sense of satisfaction from draining his energy.

But he wasn't ready to leave. Then his phone rang. It was his mom, angry because he was late.

"Yes, mom. I'm coming home, mom. Sorry, mom," he said, sounding defeated.

He dressed quickly, kissed me goodbye, and left.

I stayed in bed for a while longer. It took me almost half an hour to find the strength to shower.

The next morning, I told Lars everything. He told me I was a good girl.