Chapter 4: Firsts

Cheryl had been in my bedroom before - she’d slept in my bed, alone, last night - so she knew where she was going. When she got to the side of my bed, she stopped and let go of my hand, and reached down and took hold of the hem of her sweater.

“Cheryl, stop. Wait. Please. Just a minute. We need to talk.”

I sat down on the bed, and patted the blanket beside me. She sat, one leg tucked up under her - what a view that was! - and looked into my eyes, nervously. Have I mentioned her eyes, yet? They’re green. A man could get lost in those eyes so easily. I certainly could. Except of course that I was lost already.

“Is something wrong, John?”

“No. Nothing is wrong. Especially with you. But ... you need to know ... I’ve never ... I’ve never done this before.”

She looked back at me, blankly, for just a moment. Then the lights came on.

“You’re a virgin?”

I nodded. She started to smile.

“Please, don’t make fun of me. I’ve never been very good at relating to girls.”

“I would never make fun of anyone for being sexually inexperienced. Well, ok, yes, I guess I would. And I did. But I won’t do that anymore. And I’m not so sure that I believe that you’re not good at relating to girls - I think maybe girls are not good at relating to you. You’ve done just fine with me so far tonight. In fact, you’ve always done well with me. I was just being too much of a bitch to notice it. There’s nothing wrong with you, John. Really.

“So, you’re a virgin. How far have you gone with a girl before? Will you tell me? Can you trust me? I’ll tell you what I’ve done, if you want to hear about it.”

“Yes, I’ll tell you what I’ve done. I assume that bathing with my sisters when we were kids doesn’t count. I’ve seen exactly one adult girl, mostly naked. She still had her panties on. But I saw everything she had, other than what her panties covered.”

“And what did the two of you do together?”

“Hardly anything. I undressed her. I didn’t touch her very much, but I really liked looking at her.”

“And did she undress you? Did she touch you?”

“She didn’t undress me, no. She wasn’t in any shape to do anything to me.”

Silence.

“Wait. No. You’re talking about last night, aren’t you? I’m that girl? I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen even close to naked?”

I nodded.

“One more question, then. I guess I was kind of jumping to conclusions. But, I mean, do you want this? With me? You’ve saved it for so long. Am I the girl you want to go to bed with? To be your first?”

I couldn’t help myself. I started to laugh. Maybe it was the built-up tension. I don’t know. But I couldn’t hold it in.

“Cheryl Roberts, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. I have loved you since I met you. And yes, I have also lusted after you since I met you. In my fantasies, I’ve been in bed with you dozens of times. And the only thing that could possibly be better than having sex with you would be you being my first. Really.”

She leaned in, then, and kissed me. Hard. Her arms encircled me and her hands ran up and down my back. Then she pulled away and stood up.

“Ok, Mr. Virgin. Tonight we will see if we can make some of those nasty fantasies of yours about me come true. But why don’t you let me lead. Just relax, and I promise I will do everything I can to make this good for you.”

My mouth was suddenly very dry. I nodded. I doubt I could have formed any words at all.

Then she took hold of the hem of her sweater, again, and this time I didn’t stop her. She pulled it up and over her head, tossed it on a nearby chair. Her red hair had gotten mussed up by the static as the sweater pulled up, and she gave her head a shake to settle it down. Then she looked me in the eyes, and slowly began to unbutton her blouse.

“You’ve already seen my chest,” she whispered quietly. “You know what my tits look like. But it’s kind of fun to watch me take my shirt off for you, isn’t it?”

I nodded. She kept unbuttoning. When she reached the bottom she opened the blouse to reveal a white, lacy bra. Then she shrugged the blouse off her shoulders and tossed it to the chair where her sweater was. She looked at me for a moment, biting her bottom lip as she did so. Then she turned so her back was to me, and looking over her shoulder to watch my reaction, she bent down and unzipped her skirt, then started to slide it down over her hips. Panties. White. High cut. Or low cut. Or both. Hard to say. Not a thong, but not much to them. When the skirt hit the floor, she picked it up, stood, and placed it with her other clothes, and then turned towards me. I could see wisps of red hair peeking around the side of the front panel of her panties.

She bit her bottom lip again. Cheryl Roberts, for the second time in 24 hours, in bra, panties, and heels. But this time she was awake, standing up, looking me in the eyes. This time I didn’t need to feel guilty.

So I looked. I looked her over from head to feet and back up again. And when my eyes reached hers she asked, “You like?”

I finally found my voice. “God, yes. You are amazing. Breathtaking. Really. You look even better than you looked in my dreams.”

She smiled. And then she stepped forward and began to unbutton my shirt. When she got to the bottom, she tugged it out of my pants, and then ran her hands up over my stomach and through my chest hair before pushing the shirt up and off my shoulders and down my arms. That last action brought her close to me, and I could feel the material of her bra on my chest. I leaned in and kissed her neck. She shivered.

My shirt off, she knelt at my feet and removed my shoes and socks, then asked me to stand up. Still kneeling, she undid my belt buckle, unbuttoned my pants, and pulled down the zipper. She looked me in the eyes, and gently pulled my pants down to my feet, and removed them completely. Then her gaze moved to my underwear, which had a large wet spot on the front of it. They were my best pair, black, and I thought they showed off my attributes fairly well. I had put them on, thinking there was a chance that she might see them. But I really hadn’t been convinced we would get this far.

She pushed me back on the bed, and then lay down beside me, and snuggled into my arms. We kissed, for a minutes, enjoying the feeling of skin on skin. And then she put moved her mouth to my ear, and nibbled gently on my earlobe.

“John,” she whispered, “I want you to just lie back and relax and let me make you happy. I can see how turned on you are. So let me make you come, and then you can take your time and explore my body. Ok?”

Who could turn down an offer like that? Not me. So I murmured assent, and she pulled up to a sitting position, and leaned over me and gave me one more kiss. Then she started to slowly kiss her way down my chest. When she reached my underwear, she took hold of it by the sides, and I raised my hips off the bed, and she pulled it down and past my feet and dropped it on the floor.

She nudged my legs apart, and knelt on the bed between them. My cock was sticking up, harder than I had ever seen it. (This is the point when I tell you all that I am the owner of an 11 inch dick, right? Right? Nah. I’m not. Judging from what I’ve seen in school changerooms, I’m on the small side of average. But Cheryl wasn’t laughing at it, so I figured it was going to be adequate.) She leaned forward, and ran one finger over the head, and pulled it back. A string of pre-come stretched out from her finger as she lifted it to her mouth. She looked into my eyes, and slipped the finger between her lips. Suddenly, there seemed to be a distinct lack of oxygen in the bedroom.

She pulled her finger out of her mouth, licked her lips, and then, eyes still fixed on mine, she took hold of my cock with her other hand and slowly lowered her head. Her tongue snaked out and licked the head of my cock, causing it to twitch. I shuddered. This was not going to take long.