My First Time Surrendering as the Woman I Am

My first time with a man was almost an accident: it happened without my really understanding what I was feeling, with no pain and no pleasure. The second was different, with a guy who used me just to get himself off and left me with wounds that took years to close, inside and out. After that I promised myself it would never happen again. That no one else would touch me until I wanted it, until I truly desired it.

I met Adrián on a social network. From the very first comment, he was different from the rest. He didn’t write me clichés or ask for photos; he replied to my posts with ideas, with humor, with an intelligence that undid me. That woke my curiosity before anything else.

Our conversations became daily. I liked the way he thought and, I’ll admit it, I also liked the way he looked: athletic, brown-skinned, with a smile that appeared in almost all his photos. When I gave him my number, we started talking by video call. I’ve always liked feeling feminine, so I would get myself ready for him before we connected, even if he only saw me from the collarbone up.

We talked many times about meeting in person. And I was always the one who backed out. I had never gone out in public showing my feminine side, and I didn’t feel capable of doing it. Until one afternoon he called to tell me he was near my city and couldn’t stand the urge to meet me any longer. I wanted to have him in front of me too, so I took a deep breath and said yes.

That day I was wearing pretty lingerie underneath, as almost always, but over it I put on men’s clothes. I made sure my hair, which reaches my shoulders, looked perfect. I walked toward the café for our date with my heart in my throat, mixing fear with an excitement that tingled in my stomach. We greeted each other with a hug like old friends, and as he pulled me against him he whispered in my ear that he loved the person standing in front of him. Feeling his body and his man scent left me trembling.

I sat down across from him, with my back to the rest of the place. That gave me the courage to undo one button of my shirt and let the lace of my bra show. I felt sexy, confident, feminine. The afternoon flew by, and for the first time in a long while, I felt comfortable with a man.

***

After that meeting we kept seeing each other. Adrián always behaved like a gentleman. He knew how to treat me, and that gave me peace. He wanted to see me in my fully feminine version, but he never pushed me even once. He simply kept earning my trust, tearing down one by one the walls I had built, even though deep down I dreamed of showing myself completely and giving myself to him.

I decided the day would be his birthday. I sent him an invitation to dinner without telling him where. That morning I got up early and laid out on the bed the prettiest dress I owned and the lace lingerie I planned to wear for the first time. I opened the chat, took a photo of it, and wrote: “Your girl is cooking for you tonight.” I added my address and the time, and hit send before I could change my mind and delete everything. I was dying of nerves.

As the day went on, my anxiety grew. I was close to changing my plan and suggesting a public place again, but the part of me that had spent years waiting for this moment alone with her man won out. I spent hours making sure I was impeccable: exfoliating, mask, hair removal, nails, makeup. And still, every time I looked in the mirror, I found something else to fix.

I kept telling myself nothing would happen, that it would just be a pleasant dinner. And the very next second I was imagining myself in his arms, fantasizing that at last he would do to me what no one else had ever done with tenderness.

I was lost in those thoughts when the intercom rang. I trembled. I took a deep breath before answering. The doorman’s voice told me Mr. Adrián was asking for me; I asked him to send him up. I tried to calm down. I didn’t want him to notice I was like a teenager on her first date.

One or two minutes passed that felt eternal. The doorbell brought me back to reality. I walked to the door moving my hips as sexily as I could and opened it.

Adrián tried to say something, but his mouth stayed slightly open, as if he’d been frozen in the middle of a gesture. I gave him my best smile. His gaze dropped from my eyes to my mouth and back up again, and that made me even more nervous.

—Are you going to stand there in the doorway, or would you rather come in? —I asked, afraid some neighbor might see me.

He came in without taking his eyes off me. I closed the door, and as I did I felt like I was also closing an entire stage of my life.

—You’ve left me speechless —he finally said.

He handed me a bottle of champagne and a carefully wrapped box. I invited him in, put the bottle in the fridge, and came back with the box in my hands.

—The birthday boy is you —I told him—. The presents are for you, not for me.

I opened the box anyway. I took out a cool silk baby doll, bodysuit style, with an opening at the crotch.

—I saw it and imagined you wearing it —he murmured.

—You definitely imagined me wearing it while you were fucking me —I cut in.

He was very close. His scent wrapped around me, his eyes kept going from my eyes to my mouth over and over, and the tension between us rose with each second. He caressed my cheek and leaned in to kiss me. At the last instant I reacted and turned my face, so his mouth landed on my cheek.

—I’m not ready for that step yet —I explained—. I’m going to wear your gift when I do it with you.

I went to the bedroom to put the box away and catch my breath. When I came back, we sat on the sofa and started talking. Little by little the atmosphere relaxed.

***

We had dinner, I cut him a small cake, and we uncorked the champagne. He put on soft music and sat beside me on the sofa. My dress had a long slit down one side, and when I crossed my legs a good part of my thigh and the silk stockings I was wearing were on display.

I touched his arm, his leg, several times. That gave him permission to touch me. Every brush of his hand made my skin prickle and my cheeks burn. I was sure I was red.

He stood up and held out his hand.

—I want to dance this song with you —he said.

I told him no, but he insisted: it was his birthday. I had never danced with a man. Everything was new to me and the tension shot up. I didn’t know how to refuse, and the truth is I didn’t want to either.

He wrapped one arm around my waist and brought my right hand up to the level of his chest. His heart was beating fast. I rested my other hand on his shoulder and pressed my body against his. Then I felt it: his erection, hard and hot, against my stomach.

He stroked my back while kissing my neck and ear, telling me how good it felt to have me close. His hand went lower than it should have and caressed one buttock; the dress’s silk made the caress even more intense, and I moved closer to him without thinking.

When the song ended he didn’t let me go. He turned me around and, with my back to him, drew me against his body. I felt his cock between my buttocks.

—Look what you’re doing to me —he whispered—. It’s your fault, for being so beautiful.

I pulled away and told him I needed to go to the bathroom. Once inside, I found a condom and put it on myself: I was so turned on I could come at any moment and I didn’t want to ruin the lingerie.

When I came out I saw the baby doll on the bed. I picked it up, felt the softness of the silk between my fingers, smelled it. I wanted to feel it against my skin. I took off the dress and put it on, knowing it was taking too long, but buying time to calm my heat a little.

I stepped up to the mirror to look at myself, and in the reflection I saw him: Adrián was in the doorway, with a huge smile. I remembered what I had promised him about that bodysuit. Nerves froze me in place. Part of me wanted to run out; the other wanted to feel.

He started undressing slowly. I had no choice but to watch him, because he was stunning. When he lowered his pants, I couldn’t look away from him: hard as a rock, veins outlined, the tip pointing at me, wet and shining. Thinking he was like that because of me made my whole body shiver.

He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. The heat of his cock between my buttocks made me tremble again. His chest against my back, his scent, his cheek on my shoulder.

—Are you okay? —he asked in that deep voice.

I couldn’t answer. I could only feel. He asked again and I managed to say yes. He moved my hair aside with one hand and kissed my neck, the earlobe, my shoulder. I hadn’t known that part of my body was so sensitive. His firm embrace kept me pressed to him, and I didn’t want to separate.

He turned my head to kiss me on the mouth. My lips were parted, ready. When his tongue found mine, my passivity ended: I turned all the way around, wrapped my arms around him, and kissed him with everything I had been holding back.

***

One of his hands pressed my back against him; I felt my nipples hard, and every brush of the silk sent shocks through my whole body. The other hand went down to my buttocks, caressed them, slid between them, and I opened my legs to feel more.

I clung tightly to his neck because my knees were shaking and I was afraid I’d fall. He noticed: he lifted me in his arms and carefully laid me on the bed, lying down beside me.

His fingers traveled over my breasts through the fabric, brushed and squeezed my nipples. I thought I had reached my limit, but each new caress took me higher. He kissed me, bit me softly, used his tongue until I was breathless.

He turned me face down, slid one leg between mine, and kept kissing my back. I parted my legs and he settled himself between them; I felt his cock, hard and hot, as if it had a life of its own. I prepared myself to receive him. I wanted him.

He kept going lower with his mouth until he reached my buttocks. He moved the lingerie straps aside, kissed, licked, bit. I turned my head and, in the mirror on the ceiling, I saw a woman and her man completely given over to desire. At that moment I felt his tongue searching to enter me, a moan escaped me, and with that moan everything in me that wasn’t feminine left.

I was short of breath, my heart racing. When he felt satisfied he put me on my back and climbed on top of me, with his legs between mine. The sensation of being half crushed under his weight took me to the edge. I hugged him, kissed him, played with his tongue while his hands held my face tenderly.

—I love what you do to me —I told him.

His face lit up.

—Now comes the best part —he answered—. I’m going to soothe the craving you have for me.

I opened my mouth, pretending to be surprised, even though we both knew it was true. I’d been dreaming for a long time about him penetrating me. I’d bought thicker and thicker toys to prepare myself, but none of them came close to him. I pulled a lubricant from the nightstand and asked him to use it.

He knelt on the bed, my hips between his thighs and my legs bent over his. I loved the sight: my legs looked beautiful in the silk stockings. He spread the lubricant well and brought the tip to my entrance. He tried to go in gently, but my body rejected him with a contraction, like giving him a kiss, and then gave way a little more.

He lay back down on me. Again the sensation of his weight, his legs brushing mine, his hands in my hair, his passionate mouth. I relaxed into the kiss.

—Are you ready? —he looked at me with desire.

—Yes. I want you so much —I answered.

I felt the pressure of his tip and, without meaning to, I pulled back a little and tried to stop him with my hands. I was embarrassed to behave like a child, but he looked at me affectionately and kissed me again. While kissing me, he raised my hands above my head, intertwining his fingers with mine. His chest pressed against mine; he was big, I was small. I felt fragile, vulnerable, entirely in his hands. And I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

He held both my wrists with one hand and, with the other, guided his cock back to my entrance, opening me slowly while kissing me to distract me. I wasn’t distracted: I felt every millimeter, the tingling, the pain mixed with a pleasure that was greater. His gaze confirmed what I had always known, that I was a woman, and that only increased my desire.

I moved my hips trying to settle around him and, at that very moment, he pushed. I felt him opening me, felt his tip filling me; one of my contractions made him go a little farther and I caught him inside. A wave of heat ran through me and I moaned, pleasure and pain at once. He stayed still, let go of my hands, and kissed me with infinite tenderness.

The pain gradually faded. Little by little he sank deeper into me, unhurried, telling me how good it felt. I clenched my fists in the sheets, breathed in gasps, unable to hold back the moans. When I had him all the way in, I knew I was his, surrendered and submissive beneath him.

—You’ve got it all now —he whispered in my ear—. You’re mine, just like I dreamed.

I wrapped my legs around him, my way of telling him that he was mine too. He started moving: coming out just enough for me to feel the emptiness and then driving back in to the hilt. Each thrust drove me more insane. I moved to his rhythm, pressed against him through my arms, my legs, and my mouth.

His movements became longer and firmer. My fears dissolved completely. I’m his, this is where I belong. I told him in his ear that I was his, that I loved the way he made me feel, and his look of bliss confirmed that he was enjoying himself as much as I was.

I put my legs over his shoulders. I felt how that opened me even more, how I received him all the way, and it was delicious. Adrián was trembling with excitement; I was shuddering uncontrollably. If I had known it would be like this, I would have given myself much earlier.

He sped up. Faster, deeper. I could barely breathe, mouth open, gasping for air, feeling myself come apart. His cock thickened, trembled, my body contracted, and I felt him explode inside me. Feeling his heat triggered my own orgasm: I shook all over, a sensation I had never experienced, waves of heat from head to toe.

We were left exhausted, still trembling. Adrián tried to pull out, but I held him and crossed my legs behind him.

—Stay inside —I asked—. I want to keep feeling you.

He held my face in his hands and kissed me all over my face before finding my mouth.

—I’m yours —I whispered—. If you’re going to make love to me like this every time, you can come whenever you want.

We stayed joined a little longer, until he came out of me, leaving me with an emptiness impossible to describe. He went to the bathroom to clean up and I took advantage to do the same. I came back to bed in my thong and stockings, and a moment later he returned with two glasses. I tapped mine against his.

—Happy birthday, love! —I told him.

He gave me the sexiest smile I had ever seen. He set the glasses on the nightstand, lay down beside me, and held me until I rested my head on his chest. I fell asleep feeling his caresses on my back, finally whole, finally myself.