Chapter 15

The hairiness that was his chest trailed lightly down to his groin. There, it sprouted as densely as his beard. Sticking out of that patch of hair, sticking up, was his male organ. She had never seen another man’s, and his looked awfully large. It was redder than his face, and somehow angry.

The room was awfully bright. She should have bought heavier fabric for the curtains and pulled them closed.

Now, Sam was walking toward the bed. He pulled the sheet and blanket all the way back.

Sam’s experience was with three women, all of whom he paid. He’d known a cavalry sergeant from Kentucky, though with much more experience. The man had been prone to talk about that experience on dark, cold nights.

It was difficult to get in a virgin, and it always hurt her. The Kentuckian had been told by his father to use a little fat to ease the entry, and he always had. Girls were more enthusiastic later times.

Sam might not know much about women, but he knew about pain. You went through it as fast as you could; nothing much could ease it, although whiskey helped a little. There had been whiskey at the wedding meal, and he had noticed that Deborah hadn’t taken any. That was her choice, and he respected it.

He had brought some fat from the kitchen with the firewood. He had left it on the edge of his wardrobe, and now he had it on his left index finger. He used his right hand to pull back the covers, and saw that Deborah was completely clad in a nightgown.

“This won’t work while you’re wearing that,” he said. He got onto the feather bed and lay beside her. This was his first time in this bed; he’d used his cot to keep this one fresh for the two of them.

“Then pull up the sheet.” She raised her hips and pulled the bottom of the nightgown up to her waist.

When Sam pulled the sheet up, Deborah sat up and pulled her nightgown up to bunch under her armpits. She clasped the sheet with a few fingers of each hand and sank back to the feathers.

She thought Sam might be laughing at her silently, but he kissed her. His beard was still ticklish, and she wondered that she had ever thought that pleasant. His hand was cold on her bare belly. Then it stroked up her body to clasp a breast. It wasn’t that cold, but her nipple got harder than it had in any January back home.

After he’d tweaked that nipple, he stroked down her body. When his hand reached the hair on her mound, she closed her legs tightly.

“We are married,” he said.

“I know.”

“Your mind knows. Your legs do not.”

She consciously spread her legs. His fingers combed downward through the hair there. When he clasped her intimately, her legs closed again quite of their own accord. That only pressed his hand against her more firmly.

This time, he was laughing at her.

“Am I so amusing?” she asked.

“You are delightful, and sweet, and innocent, and soft.” On the last word. he moved his fingers to show where he was finding her soft. One finger parted those lips. She managed to spread her legs.

He removed his hand and brought it over to his other one under the sheet. Before she could see what he was doing, he kissed her again. The hand returned and rested heavily on her mound. A finger parted her lips, feeling greasy. He stroked there.

“Now,” he said. He kissed her, but only briefly.

Then he was above her. One knee was between her legs. Then he spread her legs with his hands and wedged another knee there. “Spread them for me, Deborah,” he said. She did, and his knees were pressing against her thighs, spreading them more.

She could feel something wider and softer and warmer where his finger had been. It pressed in, and she began to feel discomfort.

“Grit your teeth,” Sam said. The pressure, however, was relieved.

Then he lunged forward above her, and something tore within her. The pain was intense, and she shrieked. She could feel herself filled, occupied where she had never been filled before.

“Is that better?” Sam asked. Oddly enough, it was. The pain had been unexpected, but it was going away. While in a tender and private place, the pain had really not been worse than a switching, and it hadn’t been repeated.

“I’ll try to be quick,” Sam said. When he moved out, some echo of the pain returned. It was not as bad, and it was expected. He moved back and forth more quickly. Then he thrust into her as hard as before, gasped, throbbed in her newly-discovered depths, and collapsed on top of her

“Does this go up or down?” he asked, holding the collar of her dress.

“Huh!” she answered. “Down, I guess.” He brushed the sleeves off her shoulders and held it as it fell away. Turning from hanging it in the closet, he got a clear look at her in her bra and panties. They were matching, frilly, and white.

“White for a virgin,” he thought. He would be first; she was untouched.

She had chosen the sexy underwear for him but hadn’t imagined his staring at her from yards away. The light streaming in the windows seemed suddenly glaring. Her arms moved of their own volition to cover breasts and groin.

Seeing this, he closed the gap between them and held her again. “You look lovely,” he said. They kissed again, while his hands passed all over her smooth back. She put her glasses on the desk. She felt less exposed when everything around her looked fuzzy.

She returned to his embrace. His hands resumed their wandering, passing over her hips and sides and back. They stopped, finally, at the bra clasp; he drew back. “Look at me,” he said. With his eyes locked to hers, he undid the clasp and drew it forward. She shrugged the bra down her arms, and he took it from her. He looked straight into her eyes while tossing the bra onto the desk, then deliberately dropped his gaze onto her chest. She blushed again, but her nipples hardened. “You are so beautiful,” he said.

When he kissed her this time, his hands slid all over her breasts. He hugged her with his left arm until his right hand was trapped between her breast and his chest. She was aware of his kiss, and the fire spreading from her breast, and his hardness against her belly. He moved her backwards until she felt the bed pressing against her legs. She pushed him away and sat to remove her shoes.

Insufficiently hidden by the sheet, she watched him strip. She’d seen that naked chest before, although seldom so pale. She thought that his tented underpants were ridiculous, but he kept them on when he followed her into bed.

Again, he kissed her. Then his kisses were roving all over her face as his hand roved over her torso. His mouth passed down her neck and chest to her breast. He held the breast up to his eager mouth as he licked and sucked. His hand spread her thighs and caressed them as he switched to her other breast. She was flushed and panting, and her hips were seeking his hand before he moved back on his knees. “Help me,” he said as he tugged at her panties. She slipped them down off her hips. He removed them the rest of the way.

The afternoon light gave him a clearer view of her nakedness than he had ever had before. Her face was slightly flushed as it was after she ran hard. Her breasts were whiter than the rest of her skin, firm mounds topped with red-brown areolae and nipples. Her slim belly led to a sparse patch of hair, gold rather than the bronze on her head. Even from his position he could see through the hair to the engorged outer lips and a faint line that suggested the inner ones. Much as he regretted covering such beauty, he couldn’t resist touching it. He rested his palm lightly on the delta before looking in her eyes. “You are so beautiful,” he said. Then he closed his fingers on her fleece.

She warmed to his touch before flushing at the compliment. She yearned for his fingers and knew how they could thrill her. She feared his intrusion which seemed so imminent now but wanted this waiting to end -- if even in pain.

He eased himself down on his side again. As he began a deep kiss, he parted her labia with his fingers. He stroked her moisture upward, then across her clitoris. He repeated this for what seemed to be forever, but finally she stiffened. He broke the kiss to say, “I love you, April.” Then he moved back to the peak of her breast.

When he dropped to his side, she relaxed a little. The kiss was familiar, and the strokes toward her center were delightful. Only the expectation of his pounce distracted her from the flow of pleasure, then of tension. When the tension came, however, it brought with it a feeling of love for devoted Brian. He brought her so much pleasure and took such effort to bring it, that he must care for her. Just when she was thinking that, he said it. Buoyed by a rare agreement of thought and sensation, she entered paradise -- held in his hands, and quite alone.

He felt her tense under his hand and lips; then he felt her shudder and finally collapse. “Oh, my darling,” he said. And she was his darling, and she was his, and she would really be his. That thought sent him to the drawer. He shoved down his shorts with the condom in his hand, then fumbled open the foil and tried to figure which side went on him. That solved, feeling the peculiar tightness of the rubber on his throbbing member, he tried to climb between April’s legs. There was barely room for one knee.

April went from ecstasy to lassitude to loneliness in seconds. She wanted Brian to hold her. Then she almost panicked. He towered over her, too far away to be comforting, near enough to be threatening. She had seen his cock peeking discreetly up from his lap, held it and stroked it, felt it stiffen and pulse and soften. Now, however, Brian was kneeling erect above her thighs. His cock was projecting above her. It looked much larger than she remembered, shiny white, and very threatening.

She couldn’t bear looking at it, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from it. Then she did, and his face was more frightening. He was as grim as she had ever seen him, when he was supposed to look soft and loving -- and happy, one of them should be enjoying this. She tore her eyes away once more and saw an orange blob. “What was that?” she thought, “Oh, the basketball on the poster.” She tried to focus on that.

He bent to kiss her breasts once more. The nipples’ response was as enthusiastic as ever. He felt her relax and then move her hips. He pushed against her left leg but got no response. “I love you, April,” he raised off her breasts to say. “Let me.”

The words brought her attention back to his face. He was looking worried now, and his voice -- at least -- was soft. She couldn’t remember her reasons to fear him or to resist. Slowly she parted her legs. He knelt between them before pressing them wider apart.

He could tell that she was nervous and that her acceptance was more mental than physical. He spread his own knees to hold the territory that he had gained before bending his lips once more to her breasts. This time, his hand was busy at her entrance. First, he smoothed her liquid over her clitoris and the folds around it. Then, as her breath increased, he used the tips of his fingers to open her and spread the lips wide for his approach.

She felt a gathering excitement and then herself being opened. She felt him kiss her just before he nuzzled into her opening. “Don’t hurt me,” she begged silently.

He was there. He could feel himself at her entrance, about to become a man. “Say yes,” he begged, adding silently, “Don’t be hurt.” He wished that she wouldn’t look so scared.

She braced herself, then said, “Yes. Please yes.” He moved inward gently, awkwardly. It stretched her a little but caused not the slightest pain. Then he filled her completely, and she held him completely. She widened her thighs to let his groin press against hers. It was painless. More than that, it was glorious.

Brian’s entire consciousness seemed concentrated in his cock as it pressed into April. The smooth progress, the tight pressure, seemed so different from his hand or hers. “I’ve done it,” he thought. “We’ve done it. We are actually fucking.” Some fraction of his mind, however, was still conscious of April’s tension. And that part noticed when she relaxed. “Darling,” he asked, “are you all right?” A moment later, he was completely enclosed.

“I’m fine,” she said, “marvelous. Oh, Brian!”

“Do you hurt? Can I move?”

“No. Yes. Please move.” She gave a wiggle to convey her meaning. Then Brian began slow strokes in and out. These evoked a tickling, tingling feeling within her, something like the feeling his fingers produced.

Brian felt the smooth slide through the clasping warmth more acutely than any sensation that he had ever felt before. But that was the lesser part of his elation. He was doing it at last, and he had broken in a virgin on his first time, and he had taken her virginity without hurting her, and it was April. They were together, and they would never part. And then there was only him and his orgasm.

He pulsed as he always did, but the emotions which rushed into him as his seed rushed out were untinged with shame for the first time. He felt triumph and he felt love. He had overcome April and he would never do anything against her. Then it was only sensation.

Finally, it was calm enough for a real kiss. Their tongues tangled. A minute later, she was pushing down on the waist band of his underpants. “I’ll do it,” he said.

He rolled away and eased the underpants over his rampant erection. He pulled the condom packet out of his shirt pocket.

He touched the shoulder of her nightie. “Yours,” he said. She pulled the hem of the nightie up from under her hips and then sat up. He eased the nightie over her head.

The sight of her breasts was delightful. She dropped down in the bed, totally naked. He leaned over her and kissed her mouth and each breast.

“Now,” she said. She raised her knees and spread her legs.

“Just a minute.” He concentrated on the condom. It was slippery. She watched him while he rolled it on. He tossed the covers down and got between her legs. He kissed her once more.

He reached down to touch her, to spread her labia. He moved forward, touched what was obviously the wrong spot, moved a little back. He moved forward again, finally getting to her entry. She held her breath.

“I love you, Samantha.” He pushed forward. After an instant of something being wrong, he started to go in. Even through the condom, it was an exquisite sensation.

The clasp around the head of is cock was like nothing his hand had ever provided. I was smooth and warm. It was even, not separate fingers. He moved a little further. “Okay?” She nodded.

As he inched in, more and more of his cock was held in that warm clasp. Finally, he was all the way in. Her legs tightened on his hips. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Shall I move?”

“Please.” She had been lying with her hands down at her sides. Now she raised them to hold his back. She let out a breath and drew in another one.

He moved back. The sensations were everything they’d been before. He moved forwards again, pushing all the way inside her. Then he began the in-and-out motion. It felt strange; then it felt natural; suddenly, it felt inevitable. He pressed into her, withdrew, reentered, faster and faster. His orgasm built. Then, he drove into her, harder and deeper than ever before. He pulsed and pulsed.

He collapsed on top of her. Her breath was next to his ear, her breasts were pressed against his face. Somehow, he was outside her again. He struggled up on his hands on either side of her torso and his knees between her legs.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said.

“As Highness orders. Dost thou wish me without this tunic?”

Could he? “Yes.” At his bedside, she removed the tunic and dropped it on the floor. Her only remaining clothing was a loincloth. He stared at her breasts until she drew his head to them. So much for being under his orders, but he was not about to object. He’d wanted to taste a woman’s breast for so long, and the taste was sweeter than he could have imagined. When she lay down, he lay down beside her, leaning over to continue the kisses. When he stroked her leg, she removed the loincloth.

Suddenly, he clasped her between the legs. “Gently,” she said. Gently, he stroked her there, just where he’d wanted to feel some woman for months. She was damp, and she opened her legs so his hand could feel more of her dampness. Suddenly, his erection was so hard it hurt. “Kneelest between my legs, highness,” she said.

He climbed between her legs, knelt there. “Liest on me,” she said reaching between their bodies with both hands. When her fingers grasped him, he almost exploded. Before he did, though, she’d guided him against her dampness.

He entered that damp warmth. It closed all about him as he slid smoothly inside. When he was so far inside that his groin pressed against her hands, he moved back. This felt even better, but his lust was rising. When he pressed forwards again, he met not her hands but her belly.

He couldn’t control himself. He thrust forward again, though he was completely inside, and spewed and spewed.

She tightened her thighs around his and her arms around his torso. “Liest on me,” she said. This order was as easy to follow as her earlier ones. The experience had been bliss, paradise. And sometime, sometime soon, he’d like to do it again.

Lost in her scent and taste for a minute, he pulled himself together and started a pattern of licks and sucks to tease her to a climax. He soon succeeded and watched her undulate in the weird light while he continued sucking.

She lay on the bed as limp as the blanket beside her. The lights were all back on the tree and blinking at random. Alex was kneeling above her and kissing the valley between her breasts.

He adjusted his position when she lay still, getting a throw pillow under his knees. He anointed his cock once more with KY, although she seemed wet enough. Positioned just right, he backed up and kissed her breasts until she spoke.

“Alex?” he heard.

“Right here, love.” He returned to her entrance and spread her lips with his fingers.

“You didn’t...” He lifted the top of the entry as he slipped the merest tip inside.

“I am now.” He pressed forward until his cockhead seemed enclosed.

“Thank you.” The pleasure was all his as her tight walls enclosed him. He pressed forward and felt the walls expand around his glans. The tightness enraptured but frightened him; could she be this tight and not feel pain?

She felt the intrusion, but there was no pain at all. This inching forward was starting to excite her; she was being filled where she had never known she was empty, rubbed in places where she had never been rubbed before. The mental arousal was almost as great; she was becoming a woman, possessing and possessed by the man she loved.

Her slickness was his continuing reassurance; she could not be this wet and feel anything negative. Her tightness was his continuing worry; she could not be stretched this much without some discomfort. Her tight slickness was his erotic feast; the physical sensation of clasping friction was matched by the knowledge that he was opening his beloved to full sexual activity. He paused in his entry to stroke her perfect breasts. The nipples were quivering in their rigidity. He pressed his hips forward until he felt the warm friction resume.

She was full of him, and he stroked her breasts. Then he pressed forward, and she was fuller. She saw his face looking strict in the blue light. Then there was no more stretching. His eyes flicked up to meet hers. They seemed to stream love at her. They were more than she could manage, and she glanced down. Staring at his groin was more embarrassing, although she could not see their junction.

His eyes followed hers downward. An inch of his shaft was visible between his hair and hers. Her labia were stretched around his girth. He kept watching as he pressed forward to bury himself within her. His cockhead had passed the tightest clasp. He still felt that stricture on his shaft as the head was rubbed by a gentler touch. Then he was fully in her, groin pressed to groin.

She felt full. She felt his hairy flesh press against her outer lips. As she looked up to see a smile break over his face, she heard him say, “I love you.” Then his mouth was on hers for a brief touch of tongues. He moved out a little as he kissed her breasts. She pressed his head to her for a moment, then dropped her hands to his shoulders as he began to move within.

He struggled to maintain his gentleness as he stroked through that marvelous tightness. He lost it when she started raising her hips up toward his in response. He saw a shudder pass through her whole body just before her tunnel gripped him more tightly than ever. The denial of four days, the love of four months, the want of four decades, all poured through him and gushed into her. Her. Her! He was in his love, and he called her name as he pulsed. Tab ... bee ... thuh! Tab! Bee! Thuh! Then he collapsed.

His slow strokes within her transformed her desire into sensual fire. She wanted more and raised herself into his thrusts to get it. She stared up at the lights which were all blinking in unison and rushing toward her as wave after wave of relief shot through her. Somewhere far above her, he called her name. Somewhere deep inside her, he throbbed.

He finally dragged himself up and out of her. The bowl of water holding the cloth was still a little warm. He wiped first her and then himself. “I love you,” he said. It was as true as it was inadequate. First she, then he, moved up to normal positions in the bed. They cuddled. He switched off the tree and reached for the covers. As he covered them both, she reached back for the most intimate contact.

When he licked and sucked her nipple, the heat spread throughout her body. He kissed from there down between her breasts and then up the left one. He stroked her most sensitive point while sucking hard on that nipple.

Fire flared through her, and it shook her. “Ah,” she said.

“Good,” Lord James said. He moved until he was kneeling between her legs while she tried to recover from the shock. He spread her below and fitted the part of him she had never seen into that gap. He stared into her eyes until she couldn’t look away.

“Charlotte,” he said, “I love you. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.” Then he thrust into her, and she was in agony.

“Ow!” The pain, though, eased. He was above her in the bed, and part of him was inside her, filling a place she had never known could be filled.

“I’m sorry. Does it feel less painful now?” It did, and she nodded. Less painful than that was not a great recommendation. “That was the worst.” Mother had told her that. “I shall try to be brief.” He moved again, and Mother had never mentioned that. The pain was much duller, but Lord James needed a new meaning for the word ‘brief.’

“God!” he exclaimed. She could feel him throbbing inside her. He lay heavily on her for minutes, then rolled off.

He told her to strip and to spread out her breechclout on the ground as a pad. After she had removed his tunica, he had her lie down with her hips on that pad. He knelt between her legs and kissed her breasts. Frightened as she was, that felt exciting. So did his hands on the lips between her legs. He stopped kissing her breasts and rose above her. She felt something else at her lower lips -- something that felt warmer than his hand had felt.

“Serva,” he said, “look me in the eye.” That was a violation of protocol, but she did so. “Watch my face, as I will be watching yours.” Then she felt a stabbing pain. She screamed. When she could see Dominus’s face again, he was smiling.

“Now you are mine in another way,” he said. “Relax. The worst part is over. Had not your mother told you anything?”

“About this? Nothing, Dominus.”

“Relax. The rest is pleasure.” The rest wasn’t pleasure, although he held her breasts in the way that she had enjoyed earlier. Neither was it the first searing pain. He moved back and forth above her, in and out of the space where her legs met. She felt as though she were being rubbed or scraped somewhere she had never felt before. Also, his weight pressed her into the ground. Finally, he grunted. He fell heavily upon her and lay there.

“You are a woman, now,” he said when he finally pushed himself off. She had been a woman since she first bled. But there was blood on her leg now -- blood out of season. Some of it had dripped onto her folded breechclout.

“You’re all smooth,” she said. Her teats might have been small, but they were firm. One fit right into his hand, and he rolled the nipple between his finger and thumb.

“Like that?” he asked.

“Oh yes. Are you all bare?”

“Yes. Sleep like that when I’m under cover. So are you.”

“Yes,” she said. “It’s wicked, but I like it.” He kissed her cheek, her ear, and then her neck. As his mouth traveled down to her teat, his hand left the other one to cross her belly.

“Sweet Rosalind,” he said, “open your legs for me.” When she did, he cupped her and sucked on her nipple at the same time.

“Ah,” she gasped. He threaded one finger between her lower lips. Like her cousin had been, she was a real virgin.

He sucked the other teat, and his finger felt some juice flow from her. He stroked it up to her button. He got a little more and stroked it up again.

Every time he stroked, she produced more. He kissed her again, and then he kissed the corner of her neck.

“What are you doing?” Rosalind asked.

“I’m getting you ready. I’m going to come into you, and your body knows that. It’s producing a little juice to ease my way. I shall be on top of you and deep inside you. That is what you asked for, me deep inside you. Well, your body has to be ready for that.” He stroked her lips once. “Do they feel puffy?”

“They feel different.”

“Well,” he said. “They are getting puffier to widen out so I can go in you.”

He stroked her button again, and she shivered. He alternated between her button and her lips until she stiffened.

He rolled until he was above her. He kissed her teats, sucked one nipple, and sucked the other. Her juices were now flowing freely.

She stroked him, too, until one hand reached his cock.

“You’re big,” she said. What he was was fairly soft, but her touch was changing that.

“Take it in your hand and put it where you want it.” Rosalind held his cock, and he moved so that she got it in her groove.

“Now,” he continued, “move it up and down your groove. We want it nice and juicy to go in more easily.” She did, and he was hard as iron. “Now put your arms around my neck and give me a good kiss.”

When she did, and she was not thinking of his threatening penetration, he thrust forward. For an instant, her barrier stopped him. Then he broke through, and she wailed into his mouth.

Her cunt tightened around him, but he thrust into that tightness until he was buried in her.

She turned her head out of the kiss. “That hurt,” she said.

“Do you want your family to hear?”

“No, but that hurt,” she whispered.

“I told you it would.” He moved slightly so that he could slide his hand between their bellies. “You have had the pain. Do you want the rest?”

She nodded. The way they were lying, he felt the nod though he couldn’t see it.

He pulled almost all the way out, and she winced. He moved his hand down so his thumb touched her button.

As he moved slowly in and out, he stroked her button in time with the motions. She shivered.

The motion started to affect him, and he moved faster. Rosalind grunted, though softly, every time he hit bottom. Then she stiffened.

She moaned, shuddered, and tightened around his cock.

He pulled back through that tightness, waited, and then drove in through the next tightness. He pulsed into her.

“Are we done?” she whispered sometime later.

“Yes.” He rolled off. “Are you happy you came to me?”

“Now I am. It sure hurt.”

“You may be bleeding there. Be careful to wash that off where your Maw can’t see the blood you leave.”

Cheryl had already made her decision before the last round of kisses. She raised her hips, and she felt the jeans slowly sliding down her legs. She was ready for the panties to follow them, even if she was feeling a little nervous. Instead, he lay down beside her and kissed her again. He kept his body off hers, and he stroked her thighs while he kissed her mouth and breast. He rubbed through the panties while he sucked her nipple. She felt hot, and she welcomed the possible cooling when he finally removed her panties.

Then, his hand was directly on her genitals, and the heat only increased. He leaned across her to lick and suck her left nipple, and she felt the hair on his chest tickle and scratch her other one. The heat rose in her; she felt herself stiffen.

“Yes, darling,” he said. “Come for me.”

She tried to tell him that she would. Right then, though, the fire flared. The flames ran through her, shook her, consumed her.

“Oh, Cheryl,” he said. She shook again and again.