I was 19, and he was 23, a guy I’d been seeing for a few weeks. Let’s call him Jake. Jake had this way of looking at me like he was already undressing me with his eyes, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it. We’d been fooling around—hand jobs, blowjobs, the usual—but this night felt different. We were at his place, his roommate was out, and the air between us was thick with this unspoken tension. I could tell he wanted more, and honestly, so did I.

We were on his bed, kissing, his hands roaming under my shirt, when he pulled back and looked at me with this smirk. “You ever done a 69 before?” he asked, his voice low, like he already knew the answer. I shook my head, my heart pounding in my chest. I’d heard about it, of course, but the idea of doing it—actually doing it—felt like some kind of sexual milestone I wasn’t sure I was ready for. But Jake didn’t give me time to overthink it.

“Let’s try it,” he said, and before I could respond, he was flipping us around so that I was on top of him, my pussy hovering over his face while his cock was right there, inches from my mouth. I hesitated for a second, my mind racing, but then I felt his tongue on me, and fuck, it was like all my doubts just melted away.

I lowered myself onto his face, my knees on either side of his head, and took his cock into my mouth. It was awkward at first—trying to find a rhythm, trying not to choke—but once I got the hang of it, it was like this switch flipped in my brain. I could feel his tongue circling my clit, his fingers digging into my thighs, and I was so wet, so fucking turned on, that I didn’t care about anything else.

I remember the sounds—the wet, sloppy sounds of his cock sliding in and out of my mouth, the muffled moans coming from both of us, the way his breath hitched when I took him deeper. It was messy, and raw, and so fucking good. I came first, my body shaking as I gripped his thighs, my mouth still wrapped around his cock. He followed soon after, his cum spilling into my mouth, and I swallowed every drop, too caught up in the moment to care about anything else.

Afterward, we collapsed onto the bed, both of us breathless and sweaty. Jake looked at me with this grin, like he was proud of himself, and I couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t perfect—my neck was sore, and my jaw ached—but it was real, and it was mine.