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Surprisingly I woke before Bob the following morning. I was still wrapped in his arms and I still had one hand between my legs. The throbbing in my head matched that in my pussy and arse. The alcohol from the night before telling my brain I shouldn’t have drunk that much. I untangled myself from Bob’s sleeping embrace and went to the bathroom to freshen up and drink some water. Returning to the bedroom I stood and watched Bob’s sleeping body for a moment. Remembering the exploits of the previous evening - or as many of them as my alcohol impaired memory would allow. I smiled and ran my hand over my boobs. The memories turned me on. I felt so much more confident: confident about my sexual appetite. I knew I would lose my virginity on this holiday - I’d planned for it: with sexy clothes and a visit to the doctors to sort contraception. But it had been so much better than I had imagined it would be. But losing my virginity unleashed all the sexuality I had been trying to contain. Bob could have had me at any time in our relationship. Just after my sixteenth birthday we’d had a nice day out, I’d been wearing a crop top. In the middle of kiss Bob moved his hand under the top and on to my boob. We had already been dating for 2 years and it was the first time he had made such an advance. I took hold of his wrist - didn't pull him away - just said ‘you can if you want, I won’t say no to anything. But I don’t know if I’m ready’. I let go of his wrist and went back to kissing him. He ...

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