After a forced breakup with Sylvie, over two years without love nor sex aggravated by severe depression, I got my life back with Claudine, a classmate
Several months ago on this site (see /2023/12/sylvie-my-first-sexperience-part-1/ and following parts 2 to 8) I told the true story of my first sexual experience at age 13 with my 11-year-old cousin Sylvie, at my aunt and uncle’s house in Aix-en-Provence during the 1958 summer school vacations. This unforgettable adventure lasted three weeks, during which we gave each other our virginity and continued to discover and learn about our sexuality during this short and very intense period, giving us enormous pleasure and a hint of what true happiness could be.
But this wonderful relationship didn’t last; we were forced to break up soon afterwards due to family feuds following the death of my maternal grandfather, widowed six years earlier, and disputes over his inheritance, particularly between my mother and my uncle, which could only be settled in court.
We exchanged many love letters over almost two years, but we never saw each other again. This imposed break-up was very hard for us to bear.
I went into what we would call depression today, and had great difficulty getting over it. But life was ultimately stronger and I pulled through, thanks to my fierce determination to succeed in my studies, and also very much thanks to the girl who was my girlfriend for almost two years, from November 1960 to July 1962. She gave me a lot of support and love and she helped me to recover from what was for me a serious shock followed by a kind of mental illness.
I’m now gonna tell you the true story of what I experienced with her. As this is a very old story, I’m only telling what I remember clearly, as I forgot a lot of details despite my excellent memory for ancient personal events. I did my best to stick as closely as possible to actual facts, without inventing nor modifying anything. There’s little dialogue in my text, because I can’t remember what we said to each other at the time. The dialogue I included in this story is reconstructed from my memories, they are to be considered approximate while remaining in the original state of mind.
This is a true story of teenage love and novice sex. It starts slowly, with lots of love and little sex, rather advanced flirting, in the first part. Sex arrives gradually in the second part and triumphs in the third one, with my first fuck of my girlfriend, and continues afterwards. So be patient, “everything comes to those who know how to wait” (French proverb, translated in English). But don’t expect group sex or anything fancy like that, it just didn’t happen. It was only intense sex between two heartfelt lovers, my girlfriend and me.
I also point out that English is not my mother tongue (which is French) and so I don’t have a perfect command of it, especially when it comes to sex. Without realizing it, I may unknowingly use ill-adapted words or incorrect turns of phrase, despite my long practice of this language in my professional career, and I apologize to the reader for this.
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I brilliantly completed my junior high school education in June 1959, despite my still very unstable psychological state, and successfully passed my BEPC (junior high school diploma exam in France) a good result for which my parents bought me an adult-sized bicycle as a reward, replacing my child-sized bike which had become too small for me.
I started senior high school in September 1959, which was a big change for me. I was moving to another school in the city, further away from where I lived (I lived in the railway station, my father being the stationmaster), so my new bike would come in handy for getting there. I was in a class in which girls outnumbered boys almost two to one, and I was one of the youngest in the class. I quickly established myself as the best student in scientific subjects, and among the good ones in literary subjects, without showing any interest in the girls in the class because my psychological state didn’t make me want to do so. What’s more, I was soon able to join the school’s rugby team 2 (not being 16, I was too young to join team 1, but I could hope to do so a few months after my 16th birthday if I performed well in team 2).
A few days before the end of the first school year, three girls from my class came to tell me I should have taken more interest in a classmate named Claudine (pronounced “klo-dean”), who had a very strong crush on me, something I hadn’t realized. She was indeed cute, a good student, rather discreet, serious and hard-working, but as I spent a very intense year studying, with no interest in anything other than school matters due to my still depressed state, I hadn’t really noticed her.
The last day of school was the day of goodbyes, accompanied by the traditional kisses between boys and girls and promises to meet up again at the start of the new school year. Claudine hugged me and kissed me on both cheeks, longer than any of her classmates had hugged and kissed me. After returning her kisses, I asked her what she was gonna do during the summer vacations, hoping of course to see her again in July. She told me she was gonna spend the summer with her maternal grandparents in Cannes (also her birthplace) where they lived, along with her mother and two sisters, and that her father would be joining them at the beginning of August when he went on vacation. When I told her I was also going to Cannes for the whole month of August, she replied that maybe we could meet on the beach. She was disappointed when I pointed out that I was going to the French Railways summer camp with my younger brother, in a 100% boys’ camp, so it seemed unlikely that we would be able to (this was the last year for which I was still entitled to camp, having turned 15 that year).
The vacations went well and, not surprisingly, I didn’t see Claudine in Cannes. I thought about her quite often, wondering whether we could have a future together, and whether I really wanted to. After careful consideration, I decided that, given her attitude towards me, especially on the last day of the previous school year, she did indeed seem to want it, and so it would be worth a try. As she was pretty, intelligent, a good student and was the same age as me (in fact she was 6 weeks older than me), I was bound to like her and so she could become my girlfriend if all went well.
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On the first day of the school year in September 1960, when Claudine saw me arrive at the high school on my new bike, she quickly and enthusiastically came to meet me, kissing me affectionately on both cheeks and telling me how happy she was to see me again, and that she hoped we’d both be in the same class. Then we entered the school premises together. After the roll-call of students by level was taken, we realized that we would indeed be together again for the whole year.
Our class consisted of 36 students, the maximum allowed by the French ministry of National Education regulations at the time. All the desks were designed to accommodate two students each. Claudine sat in the front row with a friend, and I sat right behind her with a buddy, as regulations forbade a girl and a boy to sit at the same desk. As this didn’t bother any of the teachers who followed each other in our class, we kept the same arrangement every time we were in that class. In fact, there were only changes in the practical classes, where the classes were divided in two and where there was equipment for experiments. Similarly, in the canteen at lunchtime, girls and boys were at different tables.
On the other hand, in the playground, mixing and mingling was allowed, but any behavior that could be interpreted as equivocal was forbidden and could result in expulsion from the school, and several supervisors were on hand at all times to ensure that pupils behaved properly.
The school year got off to a good start, and I already knew most of the teachers, except for the two most important ones for me, math and physics-chemistry. On the second day, we got to know them, two nice-looking women. The math one was a young beginner, the physics-chemistry one was well known in the school and had a reputation as a very good teacher, but as she was pregnant, it was certain that she wouldn’t finish the school year with us as she would be on maternity leave shortly.
Nothing really interesting and worth to be told happened between Claudine and me in the weeks that followed, but we got to know and appreciate each other much better. I really liked her kindness and concern, she really went out of her way to be nice to me and take care of me, and she even had a somewhat protective attitude towards me at times, a bit like a big sister with her little brother. Maybe it was because girls are always psychologically more mature than boys at the same age, or maybe she realized quite quickly I had a psychological problem even though I didn’t tell her, or for other reasons I didn’t understand, or maybe she was just really in love with me.
A few words about her physical appearance, which was very pleasant to contemplate. She was rather petite, about 1.55 m or 5 ft 2 in (I was taller than her by about 25 cm, or 10 in), weighed certainly less than 50 kg (110 lb) and had a good breast-size that looked 90 C (34 C in the US). Her waist was slim and well defined, her hips wide, her buttocks full and her legs slender and sportingly muscular. She wasn’t a beauty prize winner nor a model, but she was a pretty girl, with a fine, tanned face, long light-brown hair that she wore braided, pretty blue-green, almost turquoise eyes and a full mouth that made you want to kiss her. She really did have everything it took to please me, and probably even more.
At the beginning of November, Claudine suggested that we go to the cinema together on Sunday afternoon, November 6, to see Federico Fellini’s film “La Dolce Vita”, the Palme d’Or winner at that year’s Cannes Film Festival, which was programmed in our town. The film caused quite a stir when it came out, and was shrouded in an aura of transgression and scandal, adding to its appeal. And that was the day when our relationship changed deeply and took a great leap forward.
In the early afternoon, we met up in front of the cinema in the town center where we made our appointment. She came on the city bus that went past her house and on to the railway station. She was dressed in an elegant light-colored jacket, a white blouse with small flowers and a light-gray straight skirt, red woolen pantyhose (the big fashion of the time) and medium-heeled shoes (about 2″). Very lightly made-up, she was gorgeous in the chic style of a well-bred young lady. I must admit I didn’t put as much effort into my appearance and clothes as she did, but I looked just fine.
After a few kisses on the cheeks, we went inside and sat in the last row at the back of the room, towards the middle of the row, Claudine sitting on my left. In those days, a cinema screening in the French provinces had a perfectly codified schedule, lasting all afternoon: a documentary lasting around an hour, followed by a quarter-hour newsreel, then an intermission lasting about half an hour. Then came the film, which that day lasted almost three hours. It was the first time I’d been going to the cinema alone with a girl. So it was a new experience for me, but I’d heard several of my buddies talk about what they did at the cinema with their girlfriends, and hence I had a good idea of what I should do with Claudine.
We settled comfortably into our seats and had to endure short commercials for about ten minutes before the lights went down and the session began.
Shortly afterwards, Claudine moved closer to me and I put my left arm on her neck and shoulders and she leaned her head on my left shoulder in response. We stayed close together for a while, both enjoying our pleasurable position.
Then, after a good quarter of an hour, I brought my left hand down over her to rest it delicately on her left breast and take it gently in my hand. Feeling this, with her left hand she pressed my hand against her boob to make sure I got a good grip on it, and to show me she approved what I was doing to her. Then she put her right hand on my left leg at knee level. I caressed her left tit for a long moment over her clothes, appreciating its volume and firmness. The sensation was fantastic. It was the first time, over two years after my wonderful romance with my cousin Sylvie, I touched a female body again, a body that was no longer that of a tween in the throes of puberty, but the body of a fully formed teenager body in all its splendor.
I moved my head closer to hers, seeking contact with her lips, contact quickly made as she moved her mouth closer to mine. Our lips parted, my tongue entered her mouth and her tongue mine, playing with each other at length in a passionate kiss. Up until now, we’d kissed several times, only on the cheeks, but this was something else entirely. I felt like an electric current running through my body and I started to get hard. And I could feel Claudine was enjoying what we were doing as well, sensing the passion she was putting into responding to my kisses.
In the position we were in, we could see nothing of the documentary, which we didn’t miss. And now I could put my right hand on her right breast and stroke it in turn, holding one boob in each hand, each as pleasant to hold and caress as the other.
A moment later, I undid several buttons of her blouse so I could get my left hand underneath, closer to her boob. I found contact with her bra and stroked her nipple over the lace of her underwear, it was already hardened. She whispered in my ear “if you want, you can put your hand in my bra and take my tit directly in your hand” which I did immediately, and I fondled her nipple right against her skin which made it harden even more. For me, it was like the beginning of a return to life after a difficult period of depression: I was directly touching a full, soft, firm girl’s breast that was throbbing in my hand and under my fingers. It was like an illumination: I understood that thanks to Claudine, I was on the way to returning to normal life.
At the same time I continued to press her right breast over her clothes with my right hand, her right nipple was also well erect, which she seemed to enjoy very much as she emitted little moans of pleasure and her breathing had become shorter and panting. To prevent the neighbors from hearing her, I stuck my mouth over hers to gag her, successfully. Fortunately, there was only one other couple, quite a distance away from us in the back row, who seemed to be busy in the same way as we were, and the people in the rows before us apparently didn’t see nor hear anything.
Then I let go off her right breast and slid my right hand up her skirt to access her crotch. She parted her legs to give me easier access. I put my hand in her pantyhose and then in her panties, which were now quite wet. I noticed her mound was covered with hair, because in those days it wasn’t fashionable to shave or wax, as it is today, and girls remained natural. This was new to me, as Sylvie’s mound, which I stroked extensively in the past, was hairless because she was so young. I began very gently stroking her very wet slit up and down several times. I barely touched her clit with the tip of my middle finger, and she immediately reacted as if she’d received an electric shock. She whispered in my ear “don’t do that here, it turns me on too much and we’ll get noticed”.
I stopped and then I delicately pushed my middle finger into her, which she let me do, it went in easily at first as she was very wet, but I soon encountered an obstacle that didn’t allow me to go any deeper, most likely her hymen. I whispered to her, “Are you a virgin?” She answered softly, “Yes, and I want you to take my virginity, it’s for you alone, you can take it whenever you want”. What a wonderful answer!
I continued to gently stroke the very wet entrance to her love tunnel, occasionally touching her hymen but without pushing my finger any further inside her so as not to over arouse her nor risk hurting her. I asked her in a very low voice if she’d ever been stroked the way I did, and she replied:
Claudine – “No, you’re the first one to stroke me between my thighs, no one did it before you, and I like it a lot”.
Me – “And you, have you ever caressed your sex?”
Claudine – “Yes, sometimes, but it didn’t have much effect on me. Maybe I didn’t do it right”.
At this point, her right hand was still on my left knee. She gently moved it up towards my crotch. She whispered, “May I touch you like you touch me?” I replied, “Of course, as much as you like”. She touched my erect cock from the outside, over my clothes, stroked it for a moment with her hand which made me harden even more. I whispered in her ear “if you want, you can put your hand in my briefs, you’ll feel me even better”.
With some clumsiness that showed she lacked practice, she pulled down the fly of my pants and then searched for the elastic of my briefs. She pulled it down, took my cock in her hand and began to stroke the head. In a very low voice:
Claudine – “It’s big and hard, and it’s very soft at the same time. I love fondling you, but I can’t take it all in my hand, it’s too big. Do you like it when I stroke you?”
Me – “Yes, I really like it when you do, your hand is very soft and it’s very pleasant. Have you ever touched a boy the way you do me?
Claudine – “No, never. You’re the first one I’ve touched and stroked. And I’ve never seen a boy’s sex, except sometimes with babies”.
She fondled me for a few minutes, strengthening my erection a little more. But it couldn’t have lasted much longer, as the newsreel was ending, the intermission was about to start and the theater lights were about to come back on. We were back to normal in less than 30 seconds and everything was in order when the lights came back on, except for my boner in my pants, which could have been seen by someone looking carefully, which was highly unlikely.
At the break, I bought an ice cream for each of us and we left the hall for the river quay, about 200 meters away. It was a pleasant temperature, cool but not cold (we’re in the south of France). I put my left arm over her shoulders and held her close. We walked slowly eating our ice cream, so as not to stray too far from the cinema, and resumed our conversation.
Claudine – “When you caressed my boobs, especially the left one, which you touched directly, it gave me extraordinary feelings, the likes of which I’d never experienced before. You aroused me a lot and it was very pleasant”.
Me – “I’m very happy to hear you say that, I want to do nice things to you and I’ll do whatever you want, for as long as you want”.
Claudine – “During the film, you can take my boob in your hand again, I liked it a lot, but try not to stimulate me too much, otherwise we risk being noticed”.
Me – “Okay, and let me know if I turn you on too much”.
After a few minutes of silence as we ate our ice cream, Claudine resumed the conversation.
Claudine – “You know now that I’m a virgin since I told you, and that I want to give you my virginity, but you, are you a virgin or have you already had sex?”
Me (with some hesitation) – “I’m not going to lie to you, I’m not a virgin anymore, I had sex with my cousin by marriage Sylvie who lives in Aix-en-Provence when I was 13 and she was 11. It lasted three weeks, during which we spent every afternoon together and gave each other our virginity and a lot of pleasure, but it didn’t end well”.
Claudine – “How did it end? Were you caught by her parents?”
Me – “No. In July 1958, like every year before, I stayed for three weeks in Aix-en-Provence with my aunt and uncle (elder brother of my mother) who never could have children. I was a kind of surrogate son for them. Sylvie’s brother Paul, two months older than me, was in England all July, and unlike in previous years, I couldn’t play electric trains with him. My aunt and her mother, my aunt’s first cousin, arranged for me not to be alone during this time and to play with Sylvie every day. And our games, innocent at first, soon took on a sexual character.”
Claudine – “And what happened to make it all go wrong?”
Me – “Well, after my return to my parents, we kept in touch by letter, promising to see each other again the following summer, as we did for the previous 10 years. In May 1959, my maternal grandfather, already a widower, died, and there was a quarrel for his inheritance in the family, my uncle and my mother broke off relations, I never returned to Aix-en-Provence and I never saw Sylvie again. Following this forced break-up, I felt very bad, I got depressed, and I’m still not over it today”.
Claudine – “I’m sorry for you, I shouldn’t have asked you all those questions which hurt you. Don’t be angry with me, I didn’t mean to cause you any harm. And now I understand your attitude in class and towards me since I’ve known you”.
Me – “I’m not angry with you at all, you couldn’t have guessed. But explain me what you’ve understood about my attitude towards you and in class for over a year”.
Claudine – “Ever since I met you, I’ve found you a bit strange. You seem to me to be an open-minded, easygoing boy, but I feel you’re distant from others and at the same time a bit afraid. You give me the impression of someone who’s suffering but doesn’t want to show it. And now I understand the cause of your suffering. I tried to make you understand that I liked you but you didn’t realize it, you ignored all my hints”
Me – “I’m deeply sorry, but I was too preoccupied with my problems, coupled with my desire to succeed in my studies, and I didn’t see anything. Don’t blame me, it’s not my fault if I was clumsy with you”.
Claudine – “I don’t blame you, but now I understand. And I promise I’ll do everything I can to help you get back on your feet. You can rely on me, I’ll always be there whenever you need me”.
Me – “That’s very kind, but why are you doing that?”
Claudine (with a big smile) – “Because I love you, you big silly”.
After these words, we kissed passionately, with a French kiss which lasted several minutes.
After our long kiss, she resumed the dialogue:
Claudine – “And you, do you love me?”
Me (with much hesitation) – ” Maybe, but I’m not yet in a state to give you a firm answer. I think that when, thanks to your kindness and your love, I’ve recovered from my depressive state, I’ll be able to answer yes with certainty, but today I’m not ready for it yet”.
Claudine – “Your answer suits me for the time being, and it encourages me even more to do my utmost to help you. I’ll do it without a second of hesitation, and I’m sure you’ll eventually love me”.
Then we heard the cinema bell announcing the end of intermission. We returned to the auditorium and regained our seats. Less than two minutes later, the lights went down and the film began.
Right from the start, Claudine snuggled up to me, I put my left arm on her shoulders and neck, and brought my left hand close to the opening of her blouse. I didn’t need to undo the buttons, she’d already done that. All I had to do was to plunge my hand into her bra and take her boob in my hand. In an instant, her nipple hardened and I took it gently between my fingers. Claudine held out her lips for us to kiss, which I eagerly did.
Then we stopped our effusions and watched the film, kissing passionately several times throughout. I held her left breast in my hand for most of the film, stroking her nipple from time to time. I also put my right hand in her panties and stroke her slit a few times during the show, avoiding her clit not to arouse her too much. And she put her right hand on my crotch, rubbing it from times to times.
When we left the theater, I realized it was almost dark. I offered Claudine a lift home on the bus, telling her I’d take the return bus back to my home which was at the end of the line. She agreed.
Once we’d arrived in front of her house, we kissed again, and she stayed with me until the bus arrived in the opposite direction, repeating “I love you” several times. After another big kiss, she went home, waving at me as the bus pulled away. Less than a quarter of an hour later, I was back home.
The next morning, during recess, Claudine told me that she had obtained her parents’ agreement to organize a party at her house (what we called a “surboum” in France) inviting several of her friends from school, boys and girls, and me of course, to celebrate her 16th birthday. It would be on Sunday afternoon, November 27 (her exact birthday was actually November 25), not on Saturday night, as the parents of several of her friends wouldn’t let them go out for a late party.
She also told me she was going to try and negotiate with her parents to get them to leave on Saturday 26th and Sunday 27th and let her have the house for herself. If she could manage it, which might be difficult but doesn’t seem impossible to her, she would like me to come and spend the whole weekend with her, in particular so that we could sleep together and make love in her bed on Saturday night. I told her I thought I’d have a bit of trouble getting my mother to agree to it, as it would be the first time in my life I’d ever stayed overnight with a girl, but it seemed possible. On the other hand, I shouldn’t have any opposition from my father.
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End of part 1 – to be continued
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If you liked this story, put a rating and a comment, telling me in particular if you’d wish me to finish to write, and post the sequel. This story really happened and lasted almost two years, of which I only tell what I remember clearly, knowing full well I forgot a lot of details. It’s not just a sex story, it’s a story of true love with sex in it, as there’s in all true loves.
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