My First Time – Thailand, 1960s

I arrived in Thailand with the Air Force in the mid-1960s still a virgin.
I'd had a steady girlfriend back home. We’d made out plenty—my hands under her blouse, fingers inside her panties until she was soaking wet—but that was the limit. She never touched my cock, never even stroked me. I took care of myself alone, of course. Every time I fingered her I’d pull my glistening finger out and lick it clean, secretly loving the taste.
One humid weekend my older, more experienced buddies talked me into leaving base. They were already half-drunk and loudly discussing getting laid, getting blowjobs, the usual barracks talk. I was nervous, excited, and more than a little drunk myself. When they decided to head to a brothel I didn’t want to walk back alone, so I tagged along.
The place was tucked far off the main roads—dark, quiet, almost hidden. Inside, the other guys quickly paired off with younger, attractive women. That left me with the only one still available: an older, very petite Thai woman wearing a simple sarong. She was small, dark-skinned, smooth. My friends nudged me, laughing. I was buzzed and horny and thought, Why not?
She led me down a dim hallway into a small room lit only by a couple of low oil lanterns. No words—just gestures. She pointed at my clothes, then at the floor. I stripped completely naked for the first time in front of another person. My heart hammered. I lay back on the narrow wooden bed covered by a thin straw mat.
She slipped out of her sarong. In the soft light I saw her tiny frame, almost flat chest with dark, prominent nipples, a smooth stomach, and a thick triangle of coarse black pubic hair. My cock was already rigid—five inches, average, leaking at the tip.
She climbed onto the bed, faced me, squatted above my hips, took hold of my shaft, and in one smooth motion guided me inside her. She was incredibly wet and warm. I slid in all the way. She began riding me, slow at first, then faster. I had no control. Within a minute I was coming hard, pulsing deep inside her—my first time ever finishing in someone else.
Afterward I stared, curious, at where we were joined. That’s when I saw it: she had a penis.
My softening cock slipped free. She stayed straddling me, knees on either side of my chest, and slowly scooted upward until her crotch hovered directly over my face. In the lantern glow I could see everything clearly—her dark, uncircumcised cock hanging soft above me, heavy balls, the rich, musky scent of her body filling my nose.
She looked straight down at me with a small, knowing smirk. I watched, frozen, as the dark head slowly pushed out of the foreskin. Her cock thickened and lengthened right in front of my eyes—longer than I expected on such a small person, though not particularly thick. I was mesmerized.
She lowered herself further. The smell was stronger now—pungent, earthy, sexual. The tip brushed my lips.
I flicked my tongue out once, nervously. She shivered. That tiny reaction lit something inside me. I did it again, slower, more deliberately. Then she took control—guided the swelling head past my lips.
I opened my mouth. The shaft was smooth, hot, tasting faintly salty. Coarse pubic hair pressed against my nose and chin. She pushed deeper. I felt my throat tighten but I didn’t pull away. I was scared, ashamed, and incredibly turned on all at once.
I started moving—lips sliding up and down, tongue curling around the underside. She watched me the whole time, that same calm smirk on her face. Her cock kept growing, filling my mouth until I was struggling not to gag.
Then I felt it throb. She moaned softly. A moment later she came—several thick, warm spurts across my tongue. The taste was strong, salty, a little bitter. I didn’t know what else to do, so I swallowed.
The moment her semen hit the back of my throat I erupted too—hard, untouched, ropes of cum landing across my own stomach. The release was overwhelming.
I grabbed her hips, pulled her down harder against my face, and buried myself in her—sucking the softening cock, licking the balls, nuzzling into the coarse hair. I was gone, completely lost in it.
My hand slid lower. I found her asshole—still slick with my own cum and her juices—and pushed a finger inside. She opened easily. I fucked her slowly with my finger, pulled it out, licked it clean, then went back for more.
She rolled onto her back. I followed without thinking—tongue tracing the dark brown ring of her ass, tasting everything: my cum, older traces of others, the raw musk of her body. It was filthy. It was intoxicating.
Her cock began to harden again while I licked and probed. She pushed me onto my back once more, straddled my face. I thought she wanted my mouth again.
Instead she relaxed, and a hot stream of piss poured over my lips, into my mouth, across my cheeks. I swallowed reflexively—shocked, humiliated, and still desperately aroused.
Afterward we cleaned up in silence. I paid her. She said nothing to the others when we left.
That should have been the end of the story.
But it wasn’t.
I went back.
Many times.