The First Time, All Over Again

I mentioned last week that we finally had sex again! I’d like to elaborate on that a little bit.

I had been really wanting sex for at least two weeks. About a week after my labia reduction, even though I was still tender and swollen, I was really horny! I was also really, really nervous about fucking. I was afraid it would hurt, I was afraid Whitman would get grossed out by some post-op weirdness, I was afraid it wouldn’t be the same. Of course it wouldn’t be the same. My vagina is the same inside, but obviously my vulva is totally different now. I wondered how much those dangly lips had been in the way (or in the mix) for better or worse. In any case, we ended up waiting about three weeks.

Whitman and I were up to the usual, sipping cocktails, lounging in the bedroom, just chatting about nothing and everything. Of course the subject of sex and the stitches came up. “Let me see your stitches, baby,” Whitman said. I slid my panties off, spread my legs slightly and let him take a look, and of course, there were two or three (or five) lingering stitches. Two or three (or five) lingering, annoying, hateful stitches in between me and my man. As you may recall, I was trying to hold out until they were completely gone.

I told Whitman that I’d just read that it could be months, not weeks, for the last few to dissolve. At that point, Whitman said, ‘Do you want me to just fuck you anyway?’ Smiling, I said “yes,” rather shyly. “Okay then.” He put down his drink, grabbed the massage oil, and told me to lie back.

He removed my shirt (I was wearing his shirt, actually), and started sucking my nipples. It was electrifying. Truly. I felt like I was humming with electricity. He poured a little oil on his free hand while still massaging and nibbling at my breasts. As he rubbed the oil over my breasts, down my belly and all over my pussy, I thought I would have an orgasm right then. Whitman was gentle and very careful as he rose up, climbed between my legs and slowly slid his cock into me.

I gasped, not from pain, but from the shock of being entered again after so many weeks. As Whitman slid the rest of the way in, I was amazed by the feeling of being so full, and overwhelmed by emotion. I whimpered. I wanted to cry. I didn’t cry. I DID cum. Almost instantly.
I rarely orgasm from intercourse, so it was even more overwhelming when I did this time. I ended up having two more orgasms in rapid succession. No pain, just an extraordinary feeling of being full and close to Whitman and wonderfully, orgasmically in love. Again, the urge to cry joyful tears nearly took over, but I held back…mostly because I didn’t want to scare Whitman or freak him out.

It actually did hurt when Whitman lifted my legs to his shoulders – my tender new skin was SO not ready to be stretched that way yet. He turned me around and fucked me from behind, doggy style. There was no pain at all, and he was able to fuck me very hard. I felt like he was extra-deep inside of me. It may just have been in my mind, but I felt like the barrier of my lips was gone, and we were physically closer, even if just by millimeters. There was no pushing and pulling of my pussy with each stroke. We were fucking and it was just me, open for Whitman…and Whitman balls-deep inside of me.

Bonus: post sex – there were no stitches left!