Chapter 7: No Means Yes

We only said a fleeting goodbye and thank-you to Skip and Brian on the way back down because Kevin wanted to tidy up in the bathroom. Apparently there are things you shouldn't do facing into a twenty knot breeze. Live and learn.

By the time the ferry pulled into Circular Quay, Kevin had regained some his former eagerness and we lined up at the exit with an urgency that wasn't precisely matched by the other passengers. Brian came down to help with docking and when he was done I gave him a kiss on the cheek as Kevin and I hurried down the gangplank to the wharf and almost ran to the train platform.

Erk! Twenty minutes until the next train! We looked at each other urgently.

"Taxi?" Kevin suggested, eyebrows raised.

"I'll pay," I blurted, grabbing his hand and hurrying back downstairs to the taxi rank.

Improbably, there was actually a taxi waiting. Still more improbably, it was clean and the driver spoke English. Most improbably of all, he drove carefully and safely using the most direct route to my apartment! I was worried that we were being abducted by aliens.

Pay the driver. Keep the change. Slam. Stumble. Fumble the keys. Fall through the door. Kissing. Hands everywhere. Find the light switch. Panting. Heart pounding in my ears.

"Wait," I husked. "I've changed my mind."

"WHAT?" he blurted, eyes flying open.

"Kidding," I smiled. "I just want to slow things down."

"Success," he said tightly, taking his hands from under my skirt and placing them in the small of my back.

We kissed again, less desperately but more enjoyably; I wanted to enjoy all of this, to remember every moment. Still kissing, we edged towards the bedroom, shedding shoes along the way while I unbuttoned Kevin's shirt for the second time that night and he pulled my blouse over my head. He started fumbling at my strapless bra clasp, and silently thanking Belinda again, I slipped my fingers up and under the cups and pulled it straight down to my waist.

"That's very practical," he mumbled into my lips as I unzipped his jeans and dropped them to his ankles. Guiding him slowly backwards into my bedroom, he miraculously managed to step out of them without tripping over.

I got his shorts down to his thighs before I backed him into the bed and then gave him a light shove to sit him down, giving me my first chance to look at his cock as he quickly pulled off his shorts. It looked much as it had felt on the ferry: hard and thick and utterly wonderful, twitching nervously like a divining rod.

I unclasped my bra, leaving me in the cornflower-blue skirt and nothing else. Standing over Kevin lying on the bed, I reached behind for the zip, about to take it off.

"No, leave it on," he gulped.

"Huh?" I looked down at him, my head spinning with lust and now confusion.

"Leave it on," he repeated, reaching for my waist and drawing me towards him. "It looks so hot!" I climbed onto the bed, straddling his body as he lay back on the covers, and realised with an excited rush that beneath the skirt, my naked pussy was poised directly above his cock.

I was so horny I almost couldn't stand it; every part of me wanted to lift the tip to my soaking entrance and simply slide down onto it, putting paid to this whole virginity saga once and for all. And I almost did! With his shaft lying flat against his body, I lowered down until I felt it kiss against my open pussy lips; the wet surface tension forming an attraction that felt wilful, almost like they didn't want to be separated.

Then I heard Belinda's voice in my head; my own imagination providing the perfect note of sarcasm that I knew she would use, as if she was in the room coaching me. "Sure, sweetie. Go ahead. I can see you're in a hurry. And that's good, because he's about three wet strokes away from coming. At least the first time will be memorable for one of you."

With one hand on my breast, another cupping my bottom beneath the skirt, and his hard member twitching and teasing my pussy lips, I almost told Imaginary Belinda to go fuck herself. I could hear Kevin holding his breath as his cock made those long flexes and I realised that he was trying and probably failing to hold his orgasm at bay. And I wasn't far behind! Every time I touched my clitoris to his shaft I felt a little bolt of pleasure ripple through me, making my nipples hard and my skin prick with goose-bumps.

Resigned to the commitment to wait a little longer for my prize, I sat down more heavily on his shaft; pressing it into my glistening slit and forcing my lips to open wide; his hard manhood touching me everywhere from my perineum to my aching clitoris and most especially my steaming, yearning entrance in-between.

The little bolts of pleasure in my clitoris became one huge thunderclap of ecstasy that froze the breath in my chest. My hips pumped reflexively and ground his dick against my sex, prolonging and compounding the pure wave of bliss radiating from my pussy.

"Oh God," I whimpered in his ear. "I think I'm coming!"

That was all the permission Kevin needed; he expelled a groan that I think was his first breath in about thirty seconds and grabbed my backside in both hands, driving my pussy against his throbbing cock and thrusting up against me, pounding my clitoris with glorious explosions while I writhed on top of him and a wave of heat built in my core and then spread out through my stomach and thighs.

And then he was coming. I felt him swell and throb along the length of my slit, and then his cock was bucking like a rodeo bull beneath my pussy. The vibration of cum rushing along the underside reverberated through my clitoris in a way that a toy could never replicate, tipping me over the edge and sending me into writhing spasms on his cock, unable to bear the acute agony of ecstasy; but equally unable to lift myself off the magnificent, throbbing tool that had me almost paralysed with pleasure.

When Kevin stopped coming, the buzzing in my clitoris finally waned and I floated down from the intense peak of my climax, spent and satisfied. All I wanted now was to cuddle; Belinda didn't warn me about this, I don't think she expected me to come in the warm-ups. I laid down on top of Kevin and nuzzled into the soft bristles on his neck; my pussy still hugging his softening cock and a warm, squidgy mess squelching between our bellies. This skirt was going to need to soak.

"Jeannie?" he said softly into my ear.

"Mmm hmm?" I didn't raise my head. Didn't even open my eyes.

"That was... , " he paused. Nice? Too short? Not what he expected?

"Round One," I finished for him, which I thought answered all of the above.

"When's Round Two?" I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Soon," I said. "Let's shower first. Do you want to watch a movie?"

"Not Harry Potter, right?"

"Not Harry Potter," I agreed, grinning. I'd never felt less like school-girl witch, Hermione Granger in my life. It was nice.

Belinda has a startling collection of sexy action movies, including all of the Daniel Craig "James Bond" movies and most especially Casino Royale, which she's made me watch with her at least twice. It's very nearly porn for her; she watches dressed in pyjamas with a pillow tucked between her thighs. I admit I can see the attraction, but I just can't put myself so far out there that I'm willing to get my own pillow (though I confess to having thought about it).

Kevin and I showered (together) and dressed (separately); me in a shortie nightie, no panties; and Kevin in his boxer shorts, which I noticed for the first time (I was distracted earlier) had a practical little window in front. I had to smile; it was the male equivalent of Belinda's strapless-bra trick, you just never knew when you'd need your cock out in a hurry without having to remove your shorts.

We sat together on the sofa and I started the movie; Kevin's arm around my shoulders so that I could snuggle into his chest. Daniel Craig was sexy – as usual – and this time I wasn't fooled into thinking the villain's sexy accomplice would be his love-interest. She gets killed of course, and then we meet the real love-interest: Vesper Lynd. And man, is she sexy! If Emma Watson / Hermione Granger is geek cat-nip, then Vesper is geek heroin. And not just geeks, guys in general! Heck, not just guys, either; I think I'd turn for her! She starts out bookish and sensible, then she's distant and vulnerable, and then she turns smoking hot and sensual. I defy any guy not to be in love with her by the mid-point of the movie.

James Bond started us off with a bunch of tough-guy stuff (or course) and was making me feel decidedly sexy. My hand on Kevin's thigh had been surreptitiously creeping upwards and by the time Vesper made her first appearance it was parked happily in his groin; not fondling as such, just there, touching.

Leaning on him with my legs folded beneath me and to the side, I was so absorbed in the movie that I didn't even notice his hand seeking its own Northwest Passage up my thigh until his fingertips brushed over my sex, making me jerk my own hand against his now hard-again cock. Clearly we weren't going to make it all the way through this movie.

While Vesper was matching wits with Bond on the screen and pretending she didn't fancy him (which just makes it so much hotter), Double-O-Kevin was stroking a finger up and down through my slit, getting me hotter and wetter and making me wriggle in my seat. I kept a hand on his cock, but remembering Belinda's teachings, I didn't return his attention equally; I just touched, making sure he was ready for what came next.

I thought we would make it to the bit where they fall in love, but we didn't even get close. With Kevin stroking me to a lather, I was done for when Daniel Craig suited up for his big poker game and my pussy was crying so insistently for more that I could barely concentrate on the screen.

And then the reluctant kiss: Bond snatched Vesper in the stairwell and kissed her as a diversion; Vesper stiffens at first, surprised but playing the role of Bond's wife, and then she softens and responds. That five second journey from reluctance to passion is so damned sexy, my breath caught and I felt a wanting, yearning need deep in the pit of my stomach.

"Hell with this," I muttered. In a single motion I turned and swung a leg over Kevin's lap, straddling him, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him deeply, vaguely aware of the pain from last night's pash-rash on my face but not caring. Not in the slightest.

I was so beyond waiting; it felt as though I'd been waiting my entire life. In a way, I guess, I had been. But no more! I had followed all of Belinda's instructions and earned my prize and now by-God I was going to take it ... not that it wasn't freely offered; Kevin seemed every bit as desperate as me. Strangely, Belinda didn't offer me any coaching on this part; her plan completely revolved around the fore-foreplay, or making him come twice before intercourse. And then what? I had asked. And then you fuck like rabbits, was her reply, which I think is Belinda-ese for 'do whatever feels good.'