We'd been talking online for weeks, but today I was on my way to meet him. I'd taken a shine to eighteen-year-old Ben in one of the indie music groups I frequented: his stylishly unkempt hair and smart comebacks being the first things I'd noticed. Our chats had been mainly innocent but had teetered towards the rude on occasion. For instance, I knew that Ben was a virgin - in fact he had only kissed one girl very briefly - and this fact had been stirring my thoughts into a whirl during numerous sleepless nights. I had never been someone's 'first' and I relished the challenge, as well as the voyage of discovery I could lead. I alighted from the train at a crumbling red-brick station house, just outside a town in the Lancashire hills. For a moment I thought the platform was empty; that I'd been stood up. However, as I walked further up I noticed a boy sitting on the last bench. My steps quickened, and I was conscious of my heels click-clacking on the concrete as I approached him. It was Ben, and as he pulled his iPod headphones out of his ears and flicked his jagged fringe to one side, I marvelled at his composure - I was meant to be the experienced one but the butterflies in the pit of my stomach told me not to be complacent. This was the moment when he could easily shatter my fantasies by standing and walking away. To my surprise, Ben stood, and instead of walking away, took my hand without a word and led me towards a passageway leading down the side of the station building. My heart jumped, and I hoped my hand wasn't nervously clammy, as I followed him, keeping pace with his long strides and wobbling slightly on the broken paving stones. Around the corner he stopped abruptly and I bumped into him slightly, grazing my elbow on the rough brick wall. I barely noticed the pain as he turned to face me and gently cupped my chin, tilting my face upwards so that he could lean in and kiss me. His mouth was soft and tasted of cigarettes and something sweet, and I snuck a glance up at his delicate features to see him frowning slightly with need. I hadn't expected that he would be the agressor; imagining rather that he might prefer our first meeting not to stray towards the physical at all. His nose bumped my forehead as he stepped closer to me, moving me back against the wall and running a hand through my layered hair. For a second he smiled shyly, circling my hips with each hand and pressing himself up to me. I had parted my legs to keep my balance, and he ground his crotch against the hollow between my belly and my thigh. My thin summer dress wrinkled and slid up my thighs, while at the modest neckline my breasts pushed upwards with the pressure of his chest. He was hard: probably he had been so all the time he'd been waiting for my delayed train, judging by the heat radiating through his jeans. His hands crept up to cup the sides of my boobs and he leaned down and kissed me again. I was happy to surrender to his eager touch, arching my back to return the pressure on his hardon. Desire burned deep in my belly - I could feel my soft, slippery sex pressing against the seam of my lacy knickers and it made me narrow my eyes with pleasure. I gently probed his mouth with my tongue, sliding it against his while our kiss deepened, and I worked my hand between our bodies to the buckle of his studded belt. Ben responded to my move by half-smiling and biting his lip, not moving his hands from my sides. I knew then that he thought he'd waited long enough - he'd been the 'good guy' for years and it was time for his release. As I slid open the buckle I brushed his erection with my fingertips and felt him shiver. The edge of his snug black t-shirt now obscured my hands from our view, and we returned to our kiss while I undid the buttons of his fly. Immediately, I felt the effects of my presence - the soft cotton of his boxers was damp with his precum and his dick strained against it. Working my hand inside the taut fabric I felt the smooth, hot skin of his length, and caressed the sticky head of his member with my palm. Trails of oily precum smeared around my hand, reminding me that Ben was still inexperienced and this might not last long. He confirmed this with a whispered apology, "Babe I'm not gonna last, i- it feels soo good... I'm sorry...." "Shush, it's ok darling," I replied, kissing his pale cheek one more time and bending down to lick the tip of his pulsing manhood, which jutted from his slight frame in a deliciously obscene way. "Ohhh... mmmmyeah that's it" Ben gasped, bracing his arms against the wall for balance as I took his cock into my mouth. I coated his hot shaft with my saliva and swallowed it down until my nose came to rest in his downy pubic hair. This was already too much for him and he grasped the back of my head to pull me even closer when his climax began. The sudden rush of thin liquid filled the back of my throat and I gulped it down, savouring the taste of him. When I finally straightened up I let the boy snuggle against my curves while his breathing returned to normal. I brushed the sheen of sweat from his brow with the back of my hand, and embraced him again, feeling his hands snake around to cup my bottom. "Oh really?" I pretended to exclaim, glad that he didn't feel our encounter was over. He still had not explored me and my body was aching for him. I was still licking the last sticky drops of semen from my lips when Ben kissed me again; this time with less urgency but just as much sensual purpose. He seemed surprised but excited by the taste of himself on my lips, and smoothed a hand over the curve of my hip and down to the hem of my dress. He worked the tips of his fingers deftly up my inner thigh and tucked his middle digit into the dampened groove my pussy had made in my knickers. My clit was a hard, swollen nub amongst the soft heat of my arousal, and Ben's inquisitive finger seemed to catch my sweet spot no matter which way he worked it. My hips twitching involuntarily with each movement, I reached down to cup my hand over his and work it up and over the waistband of my knickers. The look on his face when I introduced his palm to my silky mound, dipping his finger deep into my pussy in one smooth stroke, was one of adoration and lust. I wondered if it felt like he'd imagined on all those long nights after our suggestive conversations. He fingered me ever so gently and I felt faint with my desire to be filled. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the remains of an old bench, further down the alley, and felt a fleeting moment of panic as I tried to guage the likelihood of the station staff sneaking round for a smoke and stumbling across our fevered fumblings. Nevertheless, it was my turn to take Ben by the hand; pulling him into the shade and motioning for him to sit on the peeling green woodwork. We both sat astride the bench, which was missing a back, and faced each other excitedly while he caressed my shoulders and helped me shrug off the straps of my dress and bra. The pink lace cups of my bra fell away to my waist, and Ben's trembling hands gravitated towards the two pale mounds of my breasts, squeezing them together and inquisitively thumbing the steel balls of my nipple bars. He saw the pink buds bloom under his touch, and my head fell back in submission. My eyes closed briefly and I felt his soft, wet lips as he delicately mouthed each nipple in turn, then experimentally tongued one of the bars to twist it slightly. Ben was lost in the moment; through eyes narrowed in pleasure I watched him bury his face between my boobs, feeling his fingers squash my flesh against the sides of his head. I leant back and swung my bare legs over his hips, pulling him over me and feeling the bulge in his boxers poking at me with renewed vigour. With a swift downward motion I stripped off his pants and pulled him back down to kiss me. His cock jabbed against my mound, and he bunched my dress up at my waist to better see his goal. I moved the wet fabric of my knickers to one side so that the head of his member now stroked my slippery folds. He glanced up at my face and a look of shared lust passed between us, before he grunted and gave in to his instinctive need to thrust; our most intimate flesh meeting at last in a moment of pure delight.