Just First Time Stories Novels & Stories

You're welcome in advance. It was just texting. No voice. No video. The method her words settled in his chest, it felt like presence. Later in the day as he was icing his knee, he picked up the book again and noticed a scribbled note in the margin. “Some stories aren’t about escape. They’re about returning as someone new.” He didn’t know if she wrote it or if the author did. But either way, it hit. He looked at the untouched tea up until it went cold.

I replied and she smiled again. "No one would ever believe us or our story. That you married me forcefully. We look more romantic than the couples who have done love marriages." She said and giggled. I chuckled hearing her. She was right. No one would ever believe us. Not our future kids and grandkids. No one would believe our Stupid Love Story.

Orian asked, his voice having an irritated edge to it and I giggled at his blatant display of jealousy. The urge to tell him that I had no one before him rose within me but I kicked it aside, "Terren." I lied picking at the edges of my crop top, "He's the only man I have been involved with before you." "Hmm." He hummed and I wondered if he knew I was lying, "What was your first time like?" Oh, here it goes, think smart, think smart, "He just put it in, moved and brought it out. It hurt but not like that other stuff we had done."

Jace could feel the magic of the moment enveloping them. “Who wants to start our first campfire story?” Jace asked, his heart racing with excitement. “I will!” Mia volunteered, her voice bright. She began to weave a tale about a brave knight who ventured into a dark forest, guided only by the whispers of ancient spirits. The group listened intently, captivated by her imaginative storytelling. As the night wore on, each friend took turns sharing stories—some thrilling, some funny, and some filled with lessons learned. Jace felt a sense of belonging as they laughed and shared their dreams under the vast expanse of stars.

For the first time, someone cared for me. itsclarixass

The Astropheles, our constant companion through every twist and turn of our epic, hummed softly, as if in approval. I took Jeff's hand, felt Lina's small, sure grip in my other. "Set a course," I said to Jeff, my voice steady and sure. The war for stories was over. The work of storytelling had just begun. And we had finally found our place in the narrative—not as the heroes in the climax, but as the keepers of the first, and most important, chapter. The one titled "How." ***

BLOOD AND VOWS --- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE HER FIRST LIE “A well-told lie doesn’t just hide the truth—it rewrites it.” She was nine when she told her first real lie—the kind of lie that sticks to the roof of your soul and never quite washes out. Not the childish ones, not the ones about eating the last pastry or sneaking out the back door during piano lessons. No, this lie came with blood on the floor and a knife too big for her hands.

I’d started this one right after Rowan was born, meaning to “record the real version before the legends got to it.” I’d written six pages. Then life had happened. I ran my fingers over the last line—something about the first night home, milk‑drunk baby noises, and Morwen threatening anyone who dared knock. Then I put pen to paper. “Once,” I wrote, “I thought my story was something that happened to me. Now I know better.” The words came slow at first. Then, it fits and starts. It's not a neat chronology. Not a list of battles.

Mentally shaking himself, he smiled nervously and reached out a hand to Ean. Neither of them was able to surpress a moan as Ean lay down and their bare bodies touched for the first time. As Ean leaned down for a kiss, Justin suddenly exclaimed: "This is my first time." He said it very fast and swallowed hard, nervous what the response would be. Ean simply smiled. "I sensed that," he said and kissed Justin's forehead. Justin relaxed a little. "You have to do something for me, love," Ean murmured against Justin's skin as he started kissing his way down to Justin's ear.

I just let my tears freely flow from my eyes as I told them my story. As I told them my first ever babysitting job I got when I was eleven, my very first kiss, the every fight me and my mother quarrel about which is about me going to college and spending my savings for a goddamn course that she said I wasn’t fit for. I told them about Jordan and my job at Maine, my first sex and the first time I feel liberated and unchained from the so-called family who adopted me. Minutes turned to hours as I just narrated my heart-wrenching story. Melissa and Rowena just vivaciously listen to my whine and tales, my rant and my longings.