In the heart of Berlin, under the soft glow of a full moon filtering through lace curtains, Anna and Hans found themselves alone in his cozy apartment. Both in their early twenties, they had been dating for months, their love blossoming like spring flowers along the Spree River. Anna, with her lithe, graceful figure, porcelain skin, full and firm breasts topped with pale pink areolas, and delicate, plump labia that hid a tight, warm intimacy, felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was their first time, a moment they had whispered about in stolen kisses. Hans, tall and athletic, his eyes filled with tender affection, promised to be gentle.
They sat on the edge of the bed, the room scented with fresh lavender from a nearby vase. Hans cupped Anna’s face, his lips meeting hers in a slow, exploratory kiss. The taste of his mouth was faintly salty from the wine they shared earlier, mingled with the sweetness of her lip balm. Her heart raced as his hands traced the curve of her neck, down to her shoulders, slipping off her silk blouse. Visually, her body was a masterpiece in the moonlight—curves casting gentle shadows, her skin shimmering like polished marble.
Anna’s breath hitched as Hans’s fingers brushed her breasts, the touch warm and electric. She could feel the heat radiating from his skin, contrasting the cool air. He leaned in, his tongue circling her nipple, tasting the subtle saltiness of her skin. A soft moan escaped her lips, a melodic sound that echoed in the quiet room. The scent of her arousal began to fill the air, a musky, floral essence that made Hans’s pulse quicken.
‘Are you sure, my love?’ Hans whispered, his voice husky with desire. Anna nodded, her eyes locking with his. ‘Yes, Hans. I want this with you. Be gentle… it’s my first time.’ He smiled reassuringly, his erection growing firm against her thigh—veins pulsing along its length, the purple-red head glistening with pre-cum, swollen and eager.
They moved to the bed, Hans positioning himself above her in the missionary style. His fingers explored her folds, finding her labia swollen and tender, her clit a sensitive pearl that throbbed under his touch. She was wet, her inner walls slick and inviting, the scent of her arousal now potent, like rain-kissed earth. He rubbed his thumb in circles, drawing gasps from her—breathy sounds that built in intensity.
Slowly, he guided his penis to her entrance. The insertion was deliberate, inch by inch, her tight virginity yielding with a mix of pressure and warmth. Anna felt the stretch, a slight burn giving way to fullness as his shaft filled her, the ridges of her vaginal walls gripping him like velvet. He paused, letting her adjust, the wet heat enveloping him completely. ‘It feels… so deep,’ she murmured, her voice trembling.
Their rhythm started slow, his thrusts gentle, each withdrawal pulling at her inner folds, creating a slick, sucking sound that mingled with their shared breaths. Touch-wise, it was exquisite—her wetness coating him, the friction building heat. Visually, their bodies moved in harmony, sweat beads glistening on skin. The scent of sweat and arousal intertwined, earthy and intoxicating.
As climax approached, Anna’s breathing quickened, her vaginal walls fluttering lightly, more lubrication flooding out. Her body tensed, muscles coiling. Then, the peak hit: her whole form shuddered violently, her vagina contracting like a vise, squeezing his penis in rhythmic pulses that milked him. She cried out, a sharp, ecstatic scream, love juices squirting warmly around him. Hans followed, his release flooding her, the taste of their mixed essences later on her lips as they kissed. In the afterglow, her vagina pulsed gently, their fluids sticky and warm, a sense of soul-deep fusion washing over them.
They lay entwined, hearts slowing, but desire lingered. After moments of tender whispers—’That was beautiful, Anna’—she straddled him for their second union. Now in cowgirl position, she controlled the pace, lowering onto his renewed erection. The penetration was easier now, her walls still sensitive, wrapping him in wet heat. She rocked, feeling his tip brush her cervix, a deep, fusing sensation as if he entered her very core.
Their movements quickened, her breasts bouncing, visually hypnotic in the dim light. Sounds of flesh slapping, wet squelches filled the air. Scents intensified—sweat, semen, her musk. Taste returned in kisses, salty-sweet. High tide built: her breaths ragged, walls spasming prelude, then explosion—tremors racking her, contractions fierce, fluids gushing, her scream echoing. He climaxed inside, the warmth spreading, aftershocks of gentle throbs binding them.
Breathless, they decided to refresh in the bathroom. Under the warm shower, water cascading like liquid silk over their bodies—visual trails of droplets on curves—their passion reignited. Hans pressed her against the tiled wall from behind, entering her standing. The insertion was slick, her aroused state allowing deep penetration, his penis sliding past folds to nudge her cervix intimately.
Rhythm varied—slow then fervent thrusts, water amplifying the wet sounds. Touch: steam-hot skin, slippery embrace. Scents: soap mingled with arousal. Her climax crescendoed: prelude flutters, peak convulsions squeezing him like a fist, sprays mixing with water, her moans reverberating. His release followed, the sticky warmth lingering in afterglow pulses.
Back in bed for a fourth time, they chose a side-lying position, intimate and close. Dialogue flowed: ‘I love how you feel inside me, Hans.’ Insertion was tender, sensations amplified—inner wrinkles massaging him, deep fusion. Climax detailed as before, extended waves of ecstasy.
Finally, on the bedroom floor, amidst scattered clothes, a fifth passionate rear entry. Each sense alive, building to mutual highs, ending in exhausted, loving embrace.
As dawn broke, they held each other, their first night etching eternal bonds of love and discovery.