The room was dark but somehow moonlit enough to shine upon her female parts that descended ever so slowly and gently upon my face. I felt her fingers carefully inspecting my penis as she gently rested upon my face having straddled herself backwards. Her natural perfumed-like scent was unfamiliar; a mysterious pungency of sweetness, whose olfactory memory, to this very day, produces an intoxicating effect.
There was always silence. There were never any words exchanged. I am not even sure we had the ability, at that time, to converse. We did, however, share an immersion in a timeless space, mesmerized, in our own separate worlds, as we explored the newness of each other’s sexual parts.
We met perhaps 2 or 3 times afterwards. They all began and ended the same way, in total silence and in pure innocence. I believe I was the penis she had ever touched, her’s was certainly the first vagina I had ever experienced.
I was a baby boy of 3, she was my babysitter at 15.