The Flower

She lay there, naked, her legs spread on either side of his hips, her thoughts in a fierce debate. Should she? Could she? Would it make her easy? Fast? She didn't want to be one of those girls. She'd never been one of those girls, and she didn't want to start now. But he wants to. He'd been wanting to for the better part of three years, and definitely the four months since they'd started dating. Should she? Would she?

Her face buried in the crook of his neck, she breathes in, smelling the tang of his sweat. She can feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath her chest, and knows how much he wants it.

"All right," she said. "All right."

He lets out a breath in her ear, and she feels his penis harden against her, where it had fallen temporarily limp.

"But I want to do it myself." She leans back, half-seated across his hips, and he nods, seemingly not trusting himself to speak, lest she change her mind. She kisses him, and reaches down to grasp his cock. Spreading her legs a little wider, she directs his shaft towards her opening and sinks down.

It was... fine. Curious. He was much thicker towards the base, and she wiggles her hips to get accustomed to the feeling. It's... pleasant. She rises a little on her knees, and then lowers herself again. It's... quite pleasant.

Pleasant, though she still finds herself aware of having lost something. It didn't hurt; he'd had two fingers in her pussy long ago, but she now felt as though there was something missing. This was what Everyone had raved about, looked down at her for, had glorified until it became a ridiculous mark of status. And yet in gaining a cock inside her, she'd been deflowered, devirginised, de-whatever that thing she felt was missing. Why did it have to be like that?

She'd never really given any credence to the magnitude Everyone placed on having sex. Sex was sex. Preferably it was with someone who loved you, but that wasn't essential. (She knew he did, much more than she loved him, and that was okay, too.) It didn't make her a better person, more mature or more well-adjusted. It's just that now she would never be the one who had not had it, as she had been previously, and that was kind of too bad. Being a virgin at twenty she knew, intellectually, couldn't be that unusual, even among the non-religious, but she'd still felt that she was thumbing her nose at social convention all the same.

These thoughts passed briefly in the moment that it takes him to buck his hips up against her.

"Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses. It feels strange." At the look on his face, she amends, "Not bad strange. Actually good strange." She grinds her hips into him. "Quite good strange."

He grins. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She rises and then lowers, savouring the sensation. So much better than her hairspray bottle or even his fingers--though not as good as his fingers and tongue; just thinking about that makes her wet.

"How does it feel for you?" she asks

"Amazing. I can't believe we're doing this." He gives a surprised little half-laugh.

"Yes, somehow, despite your infatuation, I'd contented myself with old-maid-ship. I guess not so much." She paused. "I like it. You inside of me."

He groans and she starts a rocking motion, glad that it feels pretty natural, and leans forward to kiss him. "I'm probably lucky," he said, breaking the kiss, "that you have no point of comparison." He's said before that he thinks his dick is on the smaller side. It might be. She's never actually seen a penis other than his, but fully erect he's around five inches and almost two in girth, and from what she's read that pretty normal. And it doesn't feel half-bad.

She breaks eye-contact to kiss her way along his neck, landing one every time she slides up his length. Her stride is broken when he grabs her earlobe in his teeth. What a wretch! He knows that she can't concentrate when he does that. Indeed, her movements all but stop as the feeling of his teeth and lips and the sound of his breath in her ear sent all the blood in her head straight for her clit.

He bucks and swirls his tongue in her ear. She bites her lips to keep from crying out, knowing that her dorm mates probably don't want to hear her losing her virginity. Still, she presses her head towards him, telling herself she shouldn't, and shuddering at the lust it incites. Ridiculous.

At last she musters enough willpower to pull away. He chuckled, and she lightly slaps his chest, sitting upright on his cock, and gasping as the motion drives it deeper within her.

"That," she says after a breath, "was unfair. If you wanted to be in control, all you had to do was say so." She tries to take a haughty air, but squeaks when he grabs her waist and, clutching her to him so that they remain connected, lowers her onto her back. She's astounded that they've managed to remain on the tiny twin bed.

"Ho! That was so sneaky! Where did you learn that?" She grins, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist.

"A gentleman never reveals his secrets, don't you know?" She hears him laugh breathlessly and then he moves within her. She's a little disappointed that the penetration isn't nearly as deep at this angle, and wriggles around a bit, trying to keep the connection. No good. He slips out and she giggles a little awkwardly.

"No, no, stop! It's not in any more." She reaches down to his cock, and is about to reposition them when she has an idea. Grabbing an extra pillow, she folds it in half and, with him looking bemused, slides it under her hips. "Okay, try again."

This time he stays in, though it's still not as deep as when she's on top. She hooks her ankles behind his back to change the angle, and that's better but still not perfect.

He's sweating now, and she runs her fingers along his slick back. Some of his weight is resting on her chest and it's distracting her from the pleasure, though he's moving faster now so her breaths are necessarily more abrupt.

"Do you think you could--" he gasps "--come from this?"

She thinks about it, focusing on the sensation, and says, "Possibly. Someday." I hope. She thinks.

Her hips are kind of starting to hurt from being spread so widely, but still she can feel her orgasm building. She'd always assumed that she'd be one of those women who couldn't orgasm in another's presence, nevermind while having sex. He'd proved her well wrong on the first count, he'd probably do it on the second.

The pleasure was like a shimmering fancy, something that was and was not quite there. She reached for it and it disappeared, but she left it alone, and she found it hovering just in her peripheral vision. Just... just...

But then she heard him groan, and his pace slows and becomes jerky. She is stuck by the thought that a boy is ejaculating inside her. Well, inside the condom, but that was still inside her. That thought is fleeting, however, as the more tortuous pace only serves to wind her up farther. God, he'd better not be done.

When he says, out of breath, "Do you need me to finish you off?", she is reminded of why she loves this boy.

The feel of his penis pulling out of her is a loss that is much keener than that of her virginity, but it is fleeting, because moments later he replaces his cock with his fingers, and then his tongue is on her hot, engorged clit.

It still floored her--every damn time--that his mouth could feel so utterly heavenly down there. It made her cunt ache in the best way possible. She'd never been able to come without both vaginal and clitoral stimulation, but he didn't seem to mind, pumping his fingers in time with his licks.

Every thirty or so seconds, he closes his lips around her clit and sucks, hard, and she reaches blindly for that what-ever-it-was that is just beyond her grasp. Then he drives his fingers deeper into her cunt, and resumes lapping her clit. She must have been a saint in another life to deserve a boyfriend who enjoyed eating pussy as much as he did.

Her pleasure builds, and she reaches down to grab his hair, gasping, "A little, more...here...there--", as she directs his tongue to the left side of her clit, which she knows from experience and from current sensation to be the most sensitive. When he gets it exactly right, she wraps a knee around his shoulders, holding him in place, thinking briefly about propriety, but being too far gone to care. His tongue, prodding and caressing that perfect spot, his fingers, long and thick, pumping fast and slick, and her orgasm, just there in her belly.

She reaches for it, feels it slip away, and then reaches for it again. This time her hold is sure, and she bucks with the jolt of it, painful, pleasurable, and electrifying. She clutches his head to her pussy, arcing her back, and feeling another wave sweep over her. To his credit he keeps going until the last of it has subsided, and only when it hurts too good does she gasp, "There, there, that's good, c'mere."

And then she clutches his sweaty head to her chest, and they laugh in the afterglow, and kiss, and she is glad.