Apparently, Paul had no intention of letting me out his bed anytime soon. And I was in absolutely no rush to leave.

He claimed that for us to continue our adventure, he'd need a little help. I watched him sit but-naked in the window sill, smoking a joint.

He offered me a toke, but this night was already so full of firsts that I declined.

When the coin finally dropped why he needed help to "relax", it was already too late.

He handed me a bottle of lube and a condom and said, "Take it easy on me, I've only done this once before."

Paul expected me to do him?!

This was the part of sex that I'd been most scared of, yet I'd come as prepared as I could.

I handed him the bottle back and said, "If you use lots of this and we do a little warm up, I can do... this part."

His gaze searched my face for a moment before seemingly making an internal decision.

"Are you sure?" he asked, with an unexpected tenderness.

"Yes," I said more confidently.

"Ok," he breathed.

Apparently, agreeing to be the catcher instead of the pitcher came with its own very special reward.

Paul lifted my legs and parted my cheeks to give himself intimate access to an area that I didn't know was this sensitive.

His tongue made my mind do summersaults, before he pressed in first one then two lubed fingers. They stretched me and tickled my inner erogenous zone until I squealed.

"Enough!" I whispered, delirious with lust. "I want you inside me."

It didn't take him long to roll on the condom and lube up and before I knew it, he was gently rocking in and out of me. 

The initial pain quickly turned into pleasure as Paul introduced me to a new kind of heaven.

"Is it too late to ask for a drag of that joint?" I asked, as I lay in his arms.

We both laughed, as I pondered how utterly incredible it was to have lost my virginity to him.