Part One: Monday
Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, First,
Desc: Sex Story: Part One: Monday - Tabitha decides to spend Christmas with Alex.
Alex's determination and experience were enough to focus his attention on the lunch conversation. When the lunch ended, however, he forgot business for the day. He had promised Tabitha the afternoon before she took the train home for Christmas vacation. She was waiting when he drove up to the dorm at 1:25.
"You're early," he said. "Eager to get home?"
"The train isn't 'til seven. I'm eager to see you. You're early too."
"I was eager to see you. I'll miss you." He was mildly disappointed that Tabitha hadn't echoed his sentiment. But he was twice her age and always believed, despite her denials, that he was twice as invested in the relationship. Love would happen to her again but not to him. That it had happened to him, that this young beauty reciprocated his love, was enough and blessing indeed.
He took her suitcase and put it in the trunk. She carried a purse and wore a backpack which looked a little incongruous with her dress and good coat. "Eaten?" he asked.
"Restaurant, McDonald's or chez moi?"
"Yours, if it's okay."
"Mi casa es su casa." Then he wished that he had said it differently. All that remained of his French consisted of a few tags. She really was studying Spanish.
"I may take you up on that, someday." She might take him up on that this afternoon, if she could keep up her nerve.
"'Home is where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.' Mine is where, when you want to go there, they want to take you in."
"Don't talk to me of home."
"Honey, I'm near your dad's age. I'm divorced. If I'd had a kid, and a divorced man my age had come buzzing around, I'd not have acted snotty to him. I'd not have grilled him on his business and whether it was stable. I'd not have asked whether his sexual orientation might be a bit ambiguous considering his long time without a spouse.
"I would, however, have looked for somebody to break his kneecaps."
"You're only supposed to be understanding of me. They said that you could visit over Thanksgiving. I thought that they would get to like you, not try to drive you off."
"Sorry. The thing is, I love you; and sometimes I want to protect you from this antique who has been taking advantage of you. I can see why others who love you might always feel that way."
"See, they can ruin our Christmas spirit; and they are more than a state away." It was nerves that were ruining her Christmas spirits, but she couldn't say that. He'd ask why.
"With you beside me, nothing ruins my spirits, Christmas or no. So did you finish your paper?"
"I turned it in this morning. I had to say 'No Alex until I'm finished' or I would never have finished. You do understand?" It sounded awfully selfish to her.
"I'm supposed to be understanding of you. And I never want to stand in the way of your studies. Was it a good paper?" That was a source of conversation until they got to his condo.
She cooked, proud to show her skills and feeling proprietary of that small corner of his space. She made a large Western omelette, and he ate a nominal serving to be with her. She declined his offer of wine with the meal.
He could see that she was antsy about something but unready to talk about it. "Well," he thought, "let's see."
"Did I mention," he asked her, "why I had to go on a business lunch before I could pick you up?"
"I already knew. You're a very important person, and everybody wants to talk with you."
"I wish I was that important.
"What actually happened was that the head of Agency was arguing again that we are overpricing associational groups. I and the chief actuary weren't going to give in, but we had to listen politely." He went on telling her tales from his office, giving her his voice without requiring active thought from her.
She finally dodged out to the hall to get her backpack. "Did you get me a present for Christmas?" she asked.
"I did, and it's wrapped. Do you want me to get it?"
"Not now. I want you to tell people that I gave you this for Christmas." She handed him a box which obviously held a tie. He thought the phrasing odd. She knew that his discretion was on her account. "Don't I get a kiss in thanks?" She could get a kiss for any reason or none.
She knew that she could re-decide now. She could see no reason to go back. Then Alex's lips were on hers, and his arms were holding her. She could see all the reasons to go forward. She pulled his face down toward hers.
He could taste her through the omelette. She was youth and beauty and love and Tabitha. He kissed her hard, but she pulled him down harder. When his hands smoothed her back and buns, she ground herself against his beginning erection. He had insisted that she set the limits and not change them in the heat of passion. Now, the limits were her panties. He could do anything that he wanted without removing her panties. He would take his time, but he would give her something warm to remember in the train through the cold fields.
He kissed her mouth and ear and neck and mouth. He petted her back and buns and breasts. He removed her dress and was startled at a half slip in this weather. That did, however, give him much more skin to kiss. He was kneeling, kissing her ticklish belly, when he unsnapped her bra. He rose and stood back. He could not bear to unveil that perfection without his eyes being on it. She had been shy about that once, and he was glad that she had gotten over that.
She never understood his lavish attention to her small breasts. He indulged her in so much, however, that she could indulge him in this ritual. He stood and looked straight at her covered breasts. He slowly drew the bra straps forward while she held her arms to free them. Then, the bra in his hand, he looked at each breast in turn. He drew and released a deep breath. He bent to kiss each on the upper slope, not the tips. Her breasts were firm, she needed the bra more for coverage than for support; but nobody else thought that they were special.
He saw the perfection again. Shallow cones rather than sacks, they held their shape proudly. The areolae were bright pink, and the nipples of the same shade stood at attention for his inspection. He kissed them in homage and kissed her deeply before drawing her after him to the couch. There he kissed every inch of their ideal firmness. Most of his attention, though, was to the tips. He lipped and sucked at the nipples, which stood as firm there as he now stood below.
He continued licking and kissing them while his hand stroked her thighs under her half slip. She was slower parting her legs than she usually was, and he wondered if the nervousness about the upcoming trip had put her off. He looked in her eyes to check her emotional state.
She wanted these caresses. She had decided and passed the point of no return. She was so excited that she worried that her moisture was soaking into the half slip. She was scared to death. She wanted him to go on. She couldn't part her legs for a fortune. He looked at her. Parting her legs was easier than staring into those eyes she loved, so she did.
The motion of her legs was a request more direct than words could be. He responded by stroking his hand up one of her thighs toward her panties. He reached hair instead. He froze.
"You want me to tell people that you gave me the tie?" She nodded. "Instead?" She nodded again. He'd asked a fill-in-the-blank question and she had answered a true-false one. He knew he could, however, do anything with her that didn't involve removing her panties. If she meant something else, she would tell him. He changed his position and took her in his arms. Unfortunately it took him two tries to get up from that position. "Suave, Alex," he thought.
She clung to him as he lifted her. When she saw that he was heading into the bedroom she knew that she had passed the point of no return. So much weight lifted from her stomach that she was surprised that she didn't rise in his arms. He stood her on her feet to remove the half slip. She was naked in his arms. Then he led her to the bed. She watched as he stripped to his wristwatch. His penis was not a complete surprise; but it was long, jutting out, and curved upward. It looked surprisingly cruel for the maleness of such a kind man.
He wished she'd given them more time, but the lady was always entitled to her doubts. Tabitha had obviously had doubts. "Do you have another gift that you don't want me talking about?" She nodded. "Is this it?"
"Half of it."
"Ninety-nine percent. If the rest is the Kohinoor diamond, this is a hundred times more valuable." He reached for the nightstand and drew out a box he hadn't needed since soon after they met.
"No," she said. He raised his eyebrows. "I'm on the pill. Since November."
"You've been planning this."
"But I wanted to be able to back out."
"It's a big step. You still can. Or you can wait 'til you get back from the vacation." He suspected that he would run howling to the window and jump twenty-seven stories to the street if she did.
"That's the other half ... If you'll have me."
"Have you? You mean stay here?" She nodded. "How long?"
"Until school starts again."
"What will you tell your parents?"
"I already told them. I told them that the trip home on Thanksgiving was hell, and that I felt more comfortable in a cold dorm than in an inhospitable house."
"You figured that they would welcome a change of mind, and that I would welcome a sudden guest. You kept your options open."
"Plus, they needed to hear that, anyway."
"What did I need to hear." He climbed into the other side of the bed and pulled the covers over them both.
"That I love you. But I'd already said it. I wasn't sure that I was ready to act on it yet." She felt odd. He was a foot away. Her parents, she knew, had long -- non-erotic -- conversations in bed. This was as if she and Alex had just jumped into a decade-old marriage.
"I love you too. And I knew that you loved me."
"I know that. Both of those things. And I knew that this was where our love was heading, my love was heading. But I wanted to play with time. The truth is that I planned this forever. It was real fun to plan. I think that planning it was the last thing that I gave up."
"And now you have given it up. The gift is mine?"
"You were right by the way."
"It is half."
He moved suddenly toward her. Her excitement had gone down enough that she almost panicked, but a decision is a decision. She spread her legs. He was kissing her forehead when he figured out what that gesture meant. He laughed.
"You are sweet, love," he said. He kissed her nose and went back to her forehead. He kissed the whole rest of her face before getting to her mouth. Only then did he begin petting her.
It seemed to her that he was starting over and moving slower than he had at the beginning, but the nakedness cut out many steps. She lay on her back. He lay on his side against her with his erection lying casually across her thigh. Instead of formally unveiling her breasts, he kissed a path down neck and shoulders to one while holding the other. Only when he was sucking and licking on that nipple did his hand stroke downward. He stopped for a moment to play with the hair on her delta, then continued onward.
Her legs were pressed together. He abandoned her breast for a moment. "At this point, having your legs spread would be convenient." He returned to his sucking as she steeled herself to do that spreading. When she had, he cupped that area with his hand in one motion. Her legs closed again.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Don't be." He moved to her other breast. Soon her legs relaxed in response to that sucking. He stroked her outer lips, and she tensed again, but only briefly. After a while, despite her remaining nervousness, she was hotter than she had ever felt before. As he continued stroking, she felt the tension build that only her hands had ever brought on.
He, too, noted the tension and found himself praying for the first time in years. "Alex?" she said.
"Relax love" she heard. "Trust me. Let it happen." She couldn't relax. She did trust him. Soon it happened. He kept stroking and sucking through the climax. That made it better than she had ever done for herself. When she did relax, he abandoned the nipple and stopped moving his hand. He kissed a sort of peck on her mouth. "Lovely, dearest. You did great." She thought that an odd comment when he had done it all.
It seemed to Alex that there were more people in his head than in the New Hampshire Legislature. A clinician checked a box and said, "Great, she's orgasmic." A paternal figure and a teacher congratulated her on her accomplishment. A lustful rapist struggled against the protective lover. The foxhole Christian thanked the Lord, quite earnestly, for prayers answered. As her breath quieted, he slipped one finger in her vagina. One finger was a tight fit.
"It is crass and boorish to pry," he said, "but I do need to know this. Have you ever done this before? I don't mean surprise Christmas gifts. Have you ever had full intercourse with a man or a boy?"
"God no! Would I have held you off if I had?"
"You would have had that right. Never think otherwise." He left his finger there while they shared a deep kiss with tongue licking tongue. Tabitha had managed to surprise him with her gift, but he had certainly dreamed of her acceptance ... and worried about it. Would his marriage to Lorraine have survived all the other problems if she had really enjoyed intercourse? Would she have enjoyed intercourse as much as she had seemed to enjoy petting if he had been gentler with her? Tabitha was a jewel too precious for him to keep, but he would be damned if he was going to tarnish her. "Dearest, you gave this gift to me? It is all mine to do with as I wish?"
She was startled at the question, even a little apprehensive; but the answer was clear in her mind. "Absolutely. I am yours."
"Well, it turns out that the gift comes in a very tightly wrapped package. I could rip it open, but I think the wrapping is rather nice. I'm going to open it very slowly and carefully. I hope you take that as liking for the wrapping and not any disrespect to the contents.
"You have given me two wonderful gifts. The second means that we have time. I'd like to take the time to stretch you. That could be done (I'm depending on reading here) by your fingers or mine. I'd like to use another part of my body.
"That is my choice, but you'll have to co-operate.
"I should mention now that I love you. It was part of the foundation of that last, but didn't get expressed.
"From now until Christmas, you must tell me the absolute truth."
"I will," she said as earnestly as possible.
"And you must let me do with you what I wish. And you must warn me of any pain that you feel, however slight. For we are not going to cause you any pain. Oh, you might stub your toe." She grinned at the irrelevance. "But not if I can help it." He went from that speech to kissing her breasts again. His relation to these was close to idolatry, but his present purpose was to crank up her id while her ego was wrestling with his recent statements.
His speech surprised her. She had known that he was kind and considerate, but her plan had been for a quick defloration followed by all the joys that the bodice-rippers had promised her. On the other hand, he knew what he was doing. She didn't believe the bodice rippers, not quite. She had said that the gift was his, so the pictures which had accompanied her self-fingering weren't her right to demand. Besides, his caring was part of what she loved about him, and his wisdom was another part.
She was as surprised at his jumping from talk to action as she was at his speech. The action, itself, was not a surprise; but the inaction, the lack of direct attack upon her genitals was. Then the sensations took over. She pulled him to her for a kiss, and he came willingly.
He finally broke it and kissed her neck and an ear. He began stroking her vulva now. He pressed the top where the lips just begin to part before delving between the outer lips to rub, very gently, the inner ones against each other. He wanted moisture. He wanted her afloat but realized that she was still too nervous to expect that. She seemed liquid enough, however. He rolled her over with her back to him before adjusting his position.
"Keep your right leg way up there, love. That's right. Now arch your back a little. The other way. Let me. Oh love. I love you. Now let me get my hand around here. Do you feel me slipping back and forth in your valley? That's it. Now I'm at the critical point, so to speak."
"Yes. I can tell." He was just nudging into the place she put the tampons.
"Now what I had thought was that I would move forward until you told me to stop. But that wouldn't work right. I want you to promise that you will not be a brave girl ... I don't hear your promise."
"Okay. Now move back very gently. Stop when you think that there will be pain."
"Oh yes. Oh sweet. Oh darling ... Is that still comfortable?" He could feel the tight band of her entrance on the very tip of his cock. There had been more room for his finger. This was clearly a bad position for actual entrance, but it seemed a good one for stretching.
"There's no pain, if that's what you mean. My leg feels worse."
"Okay. Ease it down. Sorry about that ... Did I ever tell you that I love you?"
"I love you too."
He petted her sides, her leg, and occasionally her breast. He rested his left hand lightly on her back. He asked about her classes and what she thought she had done on her tests. The mention of tests tensed her up, which crossed his purpose for the conversation. She got out all her negative expectations about her courses, however. They had to be expressed once this fortnight, and he hoped that boil was lanced. His watch said that they had spent ten minutes since she lowered her leg, but he wanted the tension gone.
"Do you want a tree this year?" he asked.
"Could we?" Whatever she thought of her family, family Christmas was real Christmas. A tree would make it much better.
He smiled at the pleasure in her voice. A tree would cost less than the price of the restaurant lunch that she had turned down.
"Sure. I'll put it up, but you'll have to come along to pick it out. I have some decorations around here, but maybe we'll pick up some others." She had moved a little at the suggestion. "Move back now. That's good. Press back as hard as is comfortable." He felt a slightly greater penetration. "Now tell me if it becomes uncomfortable. Come to that, move first and tell me after."
"Can I move now?" He immediately removed his hands. Was she in pain after all?
"Go ahead." She squirmed a little. If anything, his penetration was a little greater afterward. The squirming, however, teased his cock unmercifully.
"There. That is better, you weren't coming at me right." She pressed back a little more, and took another millimeter inside. She thought about ignoring her promise about pain, but decided that it wouldn't work. She could brace herself for the instant of pain. She wasn't prepared to keep up this constant pressure if it would be pressure against soreness. Besides, Alex should be in charge, it was his gift.
He went back to his monologue about the office. He wanted her neither worried nor excited. It worked. "Anyway, I may still go for FSA, but it's a long hard slog."
"What's that?" she asked.
"Fellow Society of Actuaries."
"I thought you were."
"Casualty Actuarial Society. It's a different group. Harder problems, but don't ever quote me." At the next ten minute point, he pressed forward and entered a little more. "Hurt?"
"Not at all." She pressed back a little. He talked on for five minutes, but he stroked her breast more and rested his hand less. He drew back an inch, which was more than enough to pull himself completely out. He changed his angle and stroked forward up her cleft. He missed her entrance completely this way but brushed over her clitoris.
She worried that this brushing threatened to bring her to another crisis. Then she hoped that it would bring her there. She stiffened as the strokes in her valley and the rubbing on her nipples continued. She tightened her legs together and shuddered to his motions. He continued until she collapsed into limpness. Then he cuddled her until her breath returned.
"I do not have," he said, "the words to express how much I love you. You are the best thing to happen to me in my whole life."
"I was just thinking that I was getting all the pleasure from this."
"You couldn't be more wrong. You are getting all the orgasms, but that will change. I have never had pleasure to compare with holding your sweet, naked, responsive, body in my arms."
"When will it change?" She wanted his response, an affirmation from him deeper than his words.
"Do you want it to be now?"
"I'd like that."
"Even though it will be outside you?"
"Yes." Indeed, his determination that her defloration had to be painless had become important to her as well. It wasn't her choice, but it was a sign of his caring. She didn't want it to go astray.
Gladly, he moved away from her. He hadn't known how long he was going to be able to hold out. She just began to feel the loss of his warmth on her back before she heard him say, "Roll over."
He climbed over her with his legs on the outside. Her exquisite belly with its slight pad over her taut muscles was damp with perspiration. His cock was covered with her moisture and his own precum. He figured that this would be enough lubricant.
He took her hand in his and wrapped it around the base of his cock. Her touch was lighter than his own, and her hand was much smaller. All the sensitive parts stuck out.
"Just hold me like that while I do the moving." He lowered his body so that he was just brushing against her slick belly. Then he let nature drive his motions. The hour of building tension, the warm clutch of her fingers on his shaft, the friction against her skin, all pushed him to a rapid escalation.
She felt sheltered by his warmth over her and around her. She felt intrigued by the organ in her hand. She felt honored by, and a little nervous of, his obvious passion.
Then she noticed the look on his face. He didn't look pleased; he looked in pain. She feared for a moment that he was having a heart attack. People did have them before forty. Then the speed doubled, and he looked as if the pain had doubled, and juice squirted out of his penis. She knew it was an orgasm. She just had never seen a male orgasm before. It was landing all over her. Then he was done. His organ shrank and softened in her hand. She dropped it.
His motion peaked with his desire, then he froze in position while his tension poured out with his semen. He sagged above her while catching his breath. After a minute or two, he climbed off her and went to the bathroom. He returned with washcloths and a towel.
"Lesson one for terminal virgins," he said. She giggled. "Men create a horrible mess. Lesson two, that makes it the man's responsibility to clean up." He wiped off her belly, folded the cloth, covered a few areas which might have been hit. "Did I miss anywhere?" She shook her head. He kissed a nipple. "Are you sure that none hit here?"
He kissed the other nipple. "Or here?" She giggled. He kissed her mouth. That was a long kiss.
"You don't need a reason to kiss me, you know," she said.
"You are the reason to kiss you. And I do need you. The other excuses are just for fun. Are you glad that I did that without waiting to be inside?"
"I guess. You frightened me."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed for that."
"No. That's not it. You looked like you were in pain. I was thinking 'heart attack.'"
"Don't worry. I have the heart of a man half my age ... I keep it in a jar on the top shelf." She laughed. "You can't imagine how sexy your laughs look from here. But don't worry. I'll survive my orgasms. Someday we'll get a video camera, and you'll see how you look." That idea didn't appeal to her at all.
"Hug me so I'll know that you're alive." They hugged face to face, and he kissed the frown lines off her forehead.
"I'm alive. You won't get rid of me that easily.
"Look," he continued, "there are a few practical details. I have to get the car off the street. Before that I have to get your luggage. Before that I have to know whether you want to sleep in here with me or in the guest room. You might want to check out the larder and see if there is anything that we'll need."
"I sleep here. You won't get rid of me that easily."
"I love you." They kissed for a while before they got up and dressed.
She went wild in the grocery, shopping as though they would eat in for the next two weeks. He proffered a charge card and ignored the total. Their next stop was a hardware store for a stand for the Christmas tree.
He took her to a fine restaurant. Back home, they took turns in the bathroom. He noted her ratty bathrobe as an addition to his Christmas list. She seemed reluctant to shed it, though.
"Would you really rather sleep in the guest room, or even have me sleep there instead?"
"No. I'm being silly." She started to remove the robe, but he removed it for her. She had considered packing a warm nightgown but decided that it wouldn't get much use. The slow removal of the robe bared her completely. He kissed her mouth as he unbelted the robe and kissed each breast as it came into view. He hung his robe after hers, and returned to bed as naked as she was.
The kiss was long and languorous. Then he kissed down to her breasts and enjoyed them for minutes. "Are you really mine?" he asked. She nodded, already tensing. He kissed down over her belly to the fur. He parted her legs and kissed the insides of her thighs.
She knew what was coming, dreaded it, longed for it. He kissed her closed labia. Then he licked them open. Her legs tried to come together without any conscious thought on her part, but his shoulders were in the way. He kept licking until the inner lips parted. She shivered but said no word.
The aroma and then the taste nearly maddened him. He brought himself under control and licked her cleft until she tensed. Then he licked and sucked her clitoris as she shuddered through her orgasm. As soon as it was over, he pulled himself up beside her in the bed. He pulled the covers over them and lay with his arm over her while she recovered.
She tensed under his mouth until her muscles began to hurt. Then she tensed again, and shook, and went away into herself. When she returned, it was to languor and his cuddling. "Sweet Tabitha, glorious Tabitha," she heard.
She felt feverish, she felt ecstatic, she felt loved, she felt curious. "What were you doing to me down there?"
"Worshiping you." His voice was serious, not his teasing tone.
"I should be worshiping you." She did not mean an oral reciprocation. Before she began worrying that he would take it that way, he kissed her deeply.
"Ready to turn your back?" he asked. Not quite ready, she turned anyway. He hugged her in that position. "I love you," she heard. "Now remember that you are not to be brave."
He waited for her nod. She was so lovely that he sometimes feared he had dreamed her. "All right," he continued, "I'm going to put some grease on myself so this will go more easily." He rested the cold tube under his arm while he fit himself against her opening. Then he greased his cockhead and fit himself against her again. The extra lubrication helped as he eased himself just within. "Now move back." She did until he felt himself further inside than the afternoon. "Be careful not to hurt yourself."
She felt less friction this time, and could press back until she could feel the stretching. Obedient, she stopped before there was any pain. She felt occupied, however. Part, if only the tiniest part, of her contained the tiniest part of him.
He started petting her arm and speaking softly. "We'll get the tree tomorrow. We'll look at the decorations before then and you tell me what is missing. The only limits are that the tree has to fit in my trunk and in the elevator." Then after a pause: "What was especially good about Christmas when you were a girl?"
She told about decorating the tree, about the year she got a bicycle, about the puppy that wasn't really a surprise -- she got to pick him out -- but was a delight beyond all the purchases since. She wiggled during one part of that story and widened herself around him. Puppies, however, become old dogs; and old dogs die. She pulled away as she sobbed. "It's years ago. I shouldn't."
"Yes you should, beloved. It is right to mourn a friend. And, right or wrong, you can bring your emotions to this bed. Whenever you feel like crying, you can cry in my arms. I'm not going to tell you that some tears are permissible and some are not." She turned and burrowed into his arms. Her tears trickled down onto his shoulder.
"I'm messing up your design."
"That was your second gift. You gave me time to be gentle. That is my only design. You may be tight, but the schedule isn't."
She reached down and touched his cock, a gesture that made his heart turn over in his chest while it almost got her sprinkled again. "This doesn't seem to agree."
"That one has no sense of future pleasures. I don't think with my cock. He will enjoy himself ten-fold in time, but it's in our time." She let go, which he thought wise if regrettable. After a while, she turned back around and nestled into his arms. They each pretended the other was asleep. Soon, it was true.