My First Girlfriend

November 2014. Julias mother was right. When I finally freed myself from constant thoughts of Julia, I regained my zest for life. Even my introversion diminished with the lovesickness. I felt ready to once again search for my love.

On my way to the university, I constantly looked around, hoping to discover a potential soulmate somewhere. Even the enchanting gaze of any good-looking passerby prompted me to approach them and ask if we could get to know each other. This way, I managed to get a few phone numbers, but most of the time, I forgot the new contacts after a few weeks because I realized that the acquaintance showed no special interest in me. It was demotivating to always be the only one making an effort; texting them or inviting them for a walk. I was convinced that if she were my soulmate, she would make just as much effort to have a relationship with me. So, I discarded most contacts after a short time and continued my search.

After a tiring day at university and several rejections, one day I sat on a bench in the city and stared into infinity through the passing pedestrians. In my thoughts, I desperately asked God, "What am I doing wrong? Why is it so hard to find my love? Why aren't you here when I need you?"

After some time, I realized that I was waiting in vain for an answer. So, I stood up and walked with a tired, unseeing gaze to the train station.

The train home was already at the platform. It was relatively crowded, so I walked a little further along the carriages until I spotted an empty seat on a four-seater. In front of me sat two women, both probably around thirty or forty. To my left sat a young woman, about my age, with shoulder-length blonde hair. She had a small notebook on her lap and held a short pencil in her right hand.

While everyone around me stared at their phones, she looked out the window. Then at her notebook. Then back out the window and then back down. When the train finally started moving, she began to draw. I discreetly glanced at her notebook and recognized her drawing the perspective of a person looking out of the train window. She was so different from everyone else on the train that I couldn't help but feel drawn to her. As I watched her draw, I imagined gently touching her hand with mine.

I desperately wanted to talk to her before she got off the train. But I didn't dare because there were two other people sitting so close in front of us. I had never approached a woman in this situation before. I started feeling hot, and my heart began to beat faster. Time was running out as I feverishly searched for the right words. At every stop of the train, all I could think was, "Please, don't get off yet, give me a little more time." There weren't many stations left, and the likelihood of her getting off before me was increasing.

"You're really good at drawing!" I finally overcame my fear. At the same time, we both turned away from the drawing and looked at each other for the first time. After a brief glance into her gray-blue eyes, her lips curled into a smile.

"Thank you," she replied kindly and continued scribbling with her pencil.

My heart calmed down a bit.

"It's rare to meet people on the train who do something other than stare at their phones," I continued, trying to keep the conversation going, while out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the women opposite us lift her head.

"I draw often during train rides," she replied, "I love art! And what about you?"

"I like physics," I replied somewhat hesitantly. The conversation finally got going. When I eventually asked her if we could stay in touch and for her phone number, she told me she didn't have her phone with her and didn't know the number by heart. Instead, just before getting off, she tore a sheet of paper somewhat messily from her notebook and wrote her name and email address on it. I still keep that sheet of paper between the pages of an old Dale Carnegie book that Dima gave me years ago. That's how I met the miraculous Jana.

Later that evening, I took the same train we had met on to her small town of Sehnde. We had arranged to meet via email. After getting off, I waited for her for a few minutes. For a moment, I thought she wouldn't show up at all. But she did. We took a nighttime walk through the town, which ended at a bench by the canal. As we sat there, we bombarded each other with various questions. As the conversation progressed, my inhibition decreased, while Jack Frost's cold forced us to huddle closer together. Jana even put her legs over mine, and I put my arm around her shoulders. Normally, I would have frozen to death in the cold long ago, but Jana's presence and the excitement that came with it kept me alive.

When it was finally time to catch the last train home after midnight, we waited near each other in the orange glow of a street lamp. Our eyes locked as Jana leaned closer to me. So close that I could feel her breath on my chin. She kissed me directly on the lips, briefly. A few seconds later, she kissed me again. This time, I kissed her back – longer. Her sparkling eyes never left mine for a second. It felt like she was looking directly into my soul. Our kisses were only interrupted by the arriving train.

On the train, I thought about how extraordinary it was that Jana had taken the initiative. For the first time, I felt genuine affection from a woman I was infatuated with.

The next day, she came to visit me in Borsum and stayed the night. After a long day of university and work, we drove to my place together. It was already nine o'clock in the evening when we arrived. She met my mother and my sister Lauri. Masha wasn't there that day. She was probably with her new boyfriend, Tobias.

As was usual with my mother, she took complete care of us. She brought fruit and food to my room, as she always did when I had new friends over. After dinner, Jana lay exhausted in my single bed and told me about her busy day at the bookstore. I sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand. We talked for almost three hours until a glance at the clock made us end the conversation. It was quiet in the apartment - everyone was probably already asleep. We looked deep into each other's eyes and without hesitation, I moved closer to her and kissed her on the lips. At first, her lips were a little dry, but that quickly changed when I touched her upper lip and then her lower lip with my tongue. The now moistened lips made kissing more pleasant. While the tips of our tongues were touching, I undid her jeans button with one hand without looking. When I turned to the zipper, I interrupted our kiss and looked at the flower-embellished panties that were revealed.

"Wow, Jana, you've got a real forest here," I said, but still with a grin on my face. The luxuriant hair growth had surprised me a little.

"I don't shave down there. Does that bother you?" she replied, slightly embarrassed.

"Oh, that's not so tragic, but personally I think it's nicer when it's trimmed or shaved," I replied kindly, without offending her.

"You know what? Let's go into the bathroom for a minute. I can shave you down there," I suggested and continued the conversation.

After Jana hesitated briefly, she agreed. When we went into the bathroom, she undressed completely and got into the bath. I turned on the water and tested the temperature first to make sure it was comfortable. When the water was lukewarm, I gently wet her genital area with one hand, holding the shower head, and made sure it was sufficiently moist. Then I reached for my mother's fragrant shaving foam and my sharp facial razor and carefully began shaving. After a few strokes through the hair, the razor was already clogged and the bush still looked just as lush as before.

"Wait here, I'll get some nail scissors," I whispered quietly to Jana and slipped into my room naked. I also took a condom with me.

When I got back to the bathroom, I got straight to work: I bundled part of the bush and wound it into a strand. I then cut it off. After a few applications of this method, her labia thinned out. It was now time to use the razor again. This time it worked better. After shaving, I washed the intimate area with lukewarm water and from one look to the next, the deforested area was transformed into a bald object of desire. As I washed away the last remaining hairs, I felt her smooth labia with my hand, which gave me an erection. I was now sexually attracted to Jana. I turned off the tap, quickly undressed and got into the bath too. Our naked bodies wrapped around each other and we kissed. My penis became rock hard and rubbed against Jana's smooth stomach. The condom was lying on the washing machine next to the bathtub. I grabbed it with one hand without interrupting the kissing, opened it and rolled it up over my erect penis.

"Turn around," I whispered in Jana's ear and helped her. When she was standing with her back to me, I hugged her tightly again so that my slightly flaccid, hanging penis was stuck in her pussy. After a few seconds, I was very aroused again and the glans of my stiffening penis pressed against her labia.

"Lean forward," I said, helping her by gently pressing my hand against her back.

I carefully inserted my stiff penis into her virgin vagina and began to fuck her slowly. She didn't moan.

"Are you OK?" I asked Jana.

"Yes, everything's okay."

My thrusting movements became stronger and faster. Jana began to moan. After a few minutes I was already out of breath, but I was still a long way from climaxing. I was also getting very hot because the heating was turned up all the way.

"I'm feeling hot. I'll turn the heating off for a minute," I said to Jana and pulled out my penis. On cold days, my mother always turned the heating on full blast, even in my room when I wasn't there for a short time. So I always checked the setting when I got home. I didn't like it when it smelled like hot air and the room temperature was too high. In the bathroom, I had hardly ever paid attention to the set level. But now it was urgently needed.

When I was back in the bath with Jana, I asked her to return to the same position as before. My penis was flaccid after this interruption. Before I tried to insert it into Jana, I massaged it and imagined kinky things to get it going again. But it hardly did any good. It got a little thicker, but still hung down limply. Impatiently, I made my first attempt at insertion. It didn't work as it was still too limp. At that moment, I felt under pressure. Sex was no longer fun, it became a forced attempt to reach climax. I wasn't even interested in whether Jana enjoyed sex at that moment. I was so focused on getting my penis to come that I blocked out everything else around me. The only way I could see to orgasm at that moment was to masturbate. When Jana realized that I was using my hand, she turned around and leaned against the bathroom window to watch me. That wasn't exactly conducive. This un-erotic watching put me under even more pressure. Finally, after several exhausting minutes, cum finally flowed out of my glans. I was relieved to finally be able to relax my cramped arm. However, the climax was not enjoyable at that moment.

"I need to take a shower," I said to Jana, all sweaty and physically exhausted.

"I'll wait for you in bed," Jana replied and got out of the bathtub.

As I stood there soaping myself alone, an altruistic thought surfaced in me for the first time: "How did Jana feel about it?" It certainly wasn't a good first time for her.

We saw each other almost every day for the next few weeks. Every morning at the main station, she was waiting at the bottom of the stairs that led from the platform to the station. Every time I walked down the stairs, I felt a tingle in my stomach and a big grin spread across my face. Even grey days gained color as soon as I saw her. Once I reached the bottom, she greeted me with a firm hug and a loving kiss before we set off together on our daily journey. I continued my journey by streetcar to university and she to a bookshop where she worked in the meantime. She gave me so much motivation after every greeting at the station that I was even able to pay attention in the lectures without interruption.

She soon invited me to her home. Her parents were divorced and she lived with her father. He was nice to me. He liked making music, especially on the piano. Jana showed me her rather chaotic room. It was full of drawings. She took out a large pad and showed me the last pictures she had drawn. When I discovered the Hanover town hall drawn in pencil, I was speechless. Her talent for drawing was hard to beat. No wonder she wanted to study art in the coming year.

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