In the heart of Berlin, under a canopy of stars, Anna and Hans wandered hand in hand through the quiet streets. Anna, a graceful 22-year-old artist with cascading auburn hair and eyes like emeralds, had always dreamed of this moment. Hans, her devoted boyfriend of two years, a sturdy 24-year-old architect with broad shoulders and a gentle smile, felt his heart race with anticipation. They were both virgins, their love pure and untested, but tonight, in the sanctuary of Hans’s apartment overlooking the Spree River, they would cross that threshold together.
The door clicked shut behind them, and the world outside faded. Moonlight filtered through the tall windows, casting a silvery glow on Anna’s porcelain skin. She wore a simple white dress that hugged her lithe, curvaceous figure—her breasts full and firm, rising with each nervous breath. Hans pulled her close, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that tasted of sweet wine and unspoken promises. ‘I’ve waited so long for you, my love,’ he whispered, his voice husky with emotion.
Anna’s heart fluttered like a caged bird. ‘Me too, Hans. I’m scared, but I trust you.’ They moved to the bedroom, where candles flickered softly. Hans gently lifted her dress, revealing her body in the dim light—her skin fine and smooth, breasts crowned with pale pink areolas, nipples hardening under his gaze. He traced her curves with reverent fingers, feeling the warmth of her flesh, the subtle tremble of her first vulnerability.
They undressed slowly, savoring each visual delight. Hans’s body was toned, his erection growing firm, veins pulsing along its length, the purple-red head glistening with pre-cum. Anna’s eyes widened at the sight, a mix of curiosity and desire. She reached out, her touch tentative, feeling the heat and hardness, the slickness of his arousal. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she murmured.
Lying on the soft sheets, Hans began their first foreplay with kisses trailing down her neck, tasting the salty sweetness of her skin. His hands explored her breasts, kneading the firm mounds, thumbs circling her nipples until they pebbled. Anna gasped, the sound a soft melody in the quiet room. He moved lower, his breath warm against her thighs, inhaling the faint musk of her awakening arousal—a delicate floral scent mixed with something deeper, more primal.
Parting her legs, Hans gazed at her intimacy: full, tender labia flushed with color, her clit a swollen pearl peeking from its hood. He kissed her there gently, his tongue lapping at the salty-sweet nectar seeping from her folds. Anna moaned, a breathy ‘Oh, Hans…’ escaping her lips, her hips arching instinctively. The taste was intoxicating—warm honey with a hint of salt, her wetness coating his lips.
When she was ready, slick and aching, Hans positioned himself above her in missionary style. ‘Tell me if it hurts,’ he said, his eyes locked on hers. Slowly, he pressed forward, the swollen head of his cock parting her virgin lips. The sensation was exquisite: her tight, wet heat enveloping him inch by inch, her inner walls yielding with a slight resistance, then wrapping around him like warm velvet. Anna winced briefly, a sharp intake of breath, but it melted into pleasure as he filled her completely, his length rubbing against her textured folds, bumping gently against her cervix.
Their rhythm started slow, each thrust a careful exploration—sliding in with a wet squelch, withdrawing with a slick pull, her walls contracting tentatively around him. The sounds filled the room: soft slaps of flesh, her whimpers growing into moans, the wet harmony of their union. He could feel her warmth, the pulsing grip, as if her body was learning to dance with his.
As climax approached, Anna’s breathing quickened, her chest heaving, love juices flowing more abundantly, coating his shaft in slippery warmth. Her vaginal walls began to spasm lightly, a prelude to ecstasy. Then, the peak hit: her body trembled violently, muscles tensing, her pussy clenching like a fist around him, squeezing in rhythmic waves that milked his cock. She cried out, a sharp, ecstatic scream, her nails digging into his back as waves of pleasure crashed over her—love fluids surging, mixing with his pre-cum in a sticky embrace. Hans followed, his release flooding her depths, the sensation of his seed hitting her cervix like a deep, fusing warmth, their souls intertwining in that profound moment.
In the afterglow, they lay entwined, her pussy pulsing gently around his softening member, the mingled scents of sweat, musk, and semen filling the air—a heady, intimate perfume. Their bodies slick with perspiration, they whispered endearments, the warmth of their combined essences a comforting blanket.
After a tender rest, desire reignited. Anna, emboldened by her first taste, straddled him for their second union. ‘I want to feel you this way,’ she said, her voice laced with newfound confidence. She lowered herself onto his revived erection, the purple head disappearing into her still-sensitive folds. The feeling was different—deeper, more controlling. Her tight channel swallowed him whole, inner wrinkles massaging his length as she rocked her hips.
Foreplay had been mutual caresses, her hands on his chest, tasting the salt of his skin, inhaling his masculine scent. Now, in cowgirl position, she set the pace: slow grinds turning to fervent bounces, the slap of her ass against his thighs echoing, wet sounds of suction amplifying. He thrust up to meet her, hitting her cervix with each deep plunge, the fusion feeling like his cock was breaching into her very core.
Her climax built with gasps and moans, breaths ragged, her walls fluttering before the storm. At the pinnacle, she shattered: whole body quaking, pussy contracting fiercely, squeezing him in vise-like pulses, juices squirting in hot spurts. She screamed his name, muscles locking then releasing in euphoric waves, her essence drenching them both. Hans erupted inside her, the deep penetration allowing his seed to flood her womb-like depths, their mingled fluids warm and sticky in the aftermath, her cervix responding with soft throbs.
They cuddled, hearts pounding, before deciding on a shower to cleanse and continue. In the steam-filled bathroom, water cascading like a warm rain, they soaped each other. Anna’s body gleamed under the droplets, curves accentuated by rivulets tracing her breasts and hips. The air smelled of soap and their lingering arousal.
Pressed against the tiled wall, their third encounter began from behind. Hans entered her slowly, her back arched, water lubricating their union. Her pussy, now more accustomed, welcomed him with a slick embrace, walls hugging his throbbing shaft. The rhythm quickened under the spray—deep thrusts, the sound of wet skin slapping, her moans echoing off the walls, mixed with the patter of water.
Foreplay was slippery kisses and touches, tasting the clean freshness of her skin mingled with arousal. Now, each plunge felt profound: his cock sliding against her folds, bumping her cervix, the depth evoking a sense of utter merging. Scents of wet musk rose amidst the steam.
High tide came with her breaths turning to pants, walls spasming in anticipation. Ecstasy exploded: violent shudders, her pussy clamping down hard, rhythmic squeezes expelling waves of fluid that mixed with the shower’s flow. She wailed, body convulsing, then melting into bliss, his release joining hers in a warm, pulsing union that lingered as gentle throbs.
Exhausted but fulfilled, they dried off and returned to bed, wrapping in each other’s arms. Their first night of passion had bound them eternally, a tapestry of love and discovery under the Berlin moon.
