Chapter 17

. “Let me.” She took up the unbuttoning, and his fingers played with her nipples through blouse and bra. When she had unbuttoned the blouse, she pulled it out of her skirt. He unhooked the bra. She took them both off and placed them in his outstretched hand. He put them on top of his dresser.

“Now.” He kissed her head again while his large hands cupped her boobs. The palms were rough, and they excited her nipples. He took another step back from her. “Look up.” She bent her head back, and he kissed her nose and then her mouth from behind. While their tongues met, he began undoing her skirt. That was too far.

When she reached down to stop him, he sat down on his bed and lifted her into his lap. Normal kisses were much more exciting than having their heads upside down. For a while, his tongue explored her mouth while his hands explored her upper body. He loosened the skirt attachment more, and his hand slid down over her stomach to lodge inside her panties. From that position, he couldn’t reach the critical parts, but his fingers played with her pubic hair.

Soon, he laid her down on the bed while he knelt on the floor and kissed her boobs. His hand was back up her skirt, and she climaxed again.

“Your good skirt’s getting all wrinkled,” he said. He tugged on the waistband. “Lift up.” Well, his hand had been there already, why was she trying to block his eyes? When she lifted her seat off the bed, though, he pulled her panties and pantyhose down with the skirt.

“No. You shouldn’t.” She brought her hands to cover her groin. He put her skirt on top of the dresser and went back to the pantyhose which were nearly around her knees. He pulled off one leg and then the other. “Didn’t you hear me? You shouldn’t.” He pulled her panties off before answering.

“Now, don’t pull back. You’re beautiful.” He leaned over her. At least, when he was kissing her, he wasn’t looking at her. They kissed for the longest while. When he moved from her mouth, he was still kissing -- down her neck, down to her boobs. Then he sucked on a nipple while he stroked her again. Without the cloth in between, he could touch her clit directly. She climaxed again. He moved his kisses to between her boobs.

When he moved up to her mouth again, she felt his skin against her boobs. He’d taken off his shirt. The pants were against her legs, though, so he wasn’t naked. Still, this was going way too far. She was in a boy’s bedroom, in his bed, naked with him half naked. And this was a first date. She started to push him away by the shoulders, but she felt nothing except his muscles tensing. She couldn’t shift him; he could probably slam dunk her weight.

When he tried to kiss her again, she turned her head. He kissed her neck until she wiggled. Then, slowly, he kissed down to her left boob. As he sucked the nipple, his hand went between her legs. She tried to close them, but his legs were in the way.

“No, Jerry. No, don’t. I should go. Stop it!” He didn’t seem to hear her, and soon she was responding. When he left her nipple, she almost objected. He kissed across to her right boob, though. She felt her legs fall to the side, and her excitement grew. He kissed up to her face. She kept her head turned, but he licked her ear. When he moved higher in the bed and his finger left her clit, she almost objected again. Then it was back, or a little lower. No! That wasn’t his finger. When she slammed her legs together to protect herself, they met his naked hips.

“No, Jerry. You can’t. I’ve never...”

“You haven’t? I’m first? Relax. It will feel better.”

“No! Stop!” But he didn’t stop. She felt him pushing against her pussy lips and then between them. She tried to wiggle away, but he was holding her right shoulder -- pulling her down the bed towards him. His cock was one hell of a lot wider than a Tampax, but it was going in.

“Please don’t.” He paid no attention. She felt herself being filled. There was no great pain, but it was damned uncomfortable. She felt full, but he kept going in. When he stopped, he raised his head and shoulders off her.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked. She turned her face to look at his.

“It was bad, and it still is. Get out. Get off! Let me go!” His face looked pleased, not contrite, but he began to move out. She had hope for one second before he drove in again, hard. She pulled her hands up where they could push him away. When that didn’t work, she made fists and pounded against his shoulders. He didn’t even seem to notice. Instead he drove in and out, faster and faster.

“God! You’re tight.” He was holding her shoulders. His face and upper body were barely moving, but she could feel his groin slap against hers hard and fast. Then he slammed against her even harder and stay there. His face contorted, and she could feel him pulse deep within her.

“Wasn’t that better,” he asked after a minute. He rolled off and lay beside her.

“No. It wasn’t better. It was horrible.” She didn’t know when she’d started crying, but she could hear the sob in her voice and feel the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Well, I told you to relax. It’s better for both of us if you relax.” They were both silent. “Anyway, do you want to clean up before I take you home?” She got up and reached for her clothes. “I’ve got a robe here, if you want to wash first.

All right? She felt better than she had ever felt before. “Yes.”

He said nothing else, but he moved over her and between her legs. This was what her mother had told her about. His hand went back between her legs and spread her lower lips. “This might hurt,” he said.

That’s what her mother had told her. “Yes.” She braced herself. She felt more touches on those lips, and some of the touches remained when his hand moved away.

He kissed her mouth, quite gently. Then she felt him press against her and into her down there. “Charlotte!” he said. There was a brief pain, and he was sliding into her. “Are you all right?” he asked again.

“Yes.” She had hurt worse.

“Tell me when you are ready for me to move.”

Move? But she was ready for anything now. “I’m ready.” He moved inside her as well as above her. She still felt discomfort, if not actual pain. He moved back and forth more rapidly. Then the strangest expression crossed his face. He pushed into her more deeply, and more forcefully. Then she felt a throbbing where they were joined.

A moment later, he was lying on her and gasping in her ear. She put her arms around him. The weight was comforting while it was uncomfortable. Soon, though, he moved off her to lie beside her. He hugged her, and they touched everywhere.

“I am sorry that I had to hurt you,” he said.

“The hurt was small compared to the joy of being married to you.” Indeed, she would trade it for lying next to his warm skin any day.

“Oh, Ash,” he said. “Sweet Ashley, responsive Ashley. Oh, I can feel your response, feel your desire. I love you, Ash. I want you. Do you love me?”

She must. They couldn’t be in this situation except out of love. “Yes.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” It felt better saying that.

“I love you and want you. Do you want me like I want you?” How could he ask that? “Ashley, I want you. Say that you want me, too.”

“Yes. I want you, too.” And she did, sort of. His hand and his mouth had been rousing her for the longest time. She certainly wanted something.

“Oh Ashley!” Ryan’s hand left her shoulder. That hand didn’t matter; the one on between her legs, which did, kept stroking her. And his mouth sucked on her nipple.

Her skirt was suddenly lying on her waist; she was naked down there -- bare to his view. But Ryan wasn’t looking at her. Instead, he was climbing between her legs. The seat sagged under his weight. She felt his bare legs between hers and his loose belt against her thigh.

“Ryan?”

Staring into her eyes and with his lips an inch from her, he said, “I love you, Ash. I want you, and I’m glad you said you want me, too.” Then he kissed her hard.

Still kissing her, he reached his hand down between her legs. She didn’t want him touching her there. But he’d touched her there, had done it for hours that night. And she had enjoyed it then -- enjoyed it most of the time, at least. She didn’t want this, but she couldn’t kick him off. First, she really couldn’t; Ryan was much stronger than she was. Second, she didn’t want to; the story would be all over the school. She’d have acted like a middle-school girl.

He was too far along, and she had said that she wanted him. And she had wanted him, if not in this way. She’d wanted to his date, his romance, one of the cool kids. And now...

Now she was one of the cool kids. She was lying on the back seat of a car with Ryan Barnes between her legs. He parted her lower lips with his fingers. She felt something else there, something thicker and smoother than his fingers -- and much more frightening.

Panicking, she turned her head away from his mouth and gasped in a breath. She felt him thrust into her just before she screamed.

“It’s all right,” Ryan said. “It hurt, but it will only hurt once. Do you want me to stay like this.”

“No!” She wanted him to get off, to let her get dressed, to drive her home, to keep this entire night a secret.

“Oh, Ash!” He was moving above her and driving in and out inside her. “So sweet, so tight, so smooth. Oh!” He rammed into her, pushing her head painfully against the door. She felt him pulsing inside her. It was, she knew, too late.

‘ ‘

I had only taken a few bites when there was a cry from across the herd. When I trotted over, I saw a strange stallion trying to drive the filly off. When I screamed my challenge, he turned to face me. We met on our hind legs, with our forelegs kicking. I was able to both knock him aside and get in a bite. Three more such encounters taught him that I was more than his match. He turned from me, hoping to get in a departing kick with his hind legs. I had learned that trick as a yearling. I jumped forward and to the side, and then got in a good bite to his hindquarter before he galloped off.

I whinnied my triumph although the two exercises in a row had left me winded. Then I looked for the filly who had been the issue of the fight. As she was headed back to the herd, I took two mouthfuls of grass before trotting after her. When I got near, however, I smelled her again. She was fully ready now.

When I sped up, she did too; but the mares parted for me as they would not for her. I was close when she got through the herd. I turned her until we were headed back toward the herd. She stopped then, caught but not happy about it. I, however, was now downwind from her and fully ready for this encounter. When I nipped her flank, she stood there trembling.

One whinny as I reared above her held my triumph in catching her and my desire for her. When I came down on her shoulders, she shuddered. Knocking her tail aside with my shaft, I fitted myself in her tight entrance. She screamed as I drove forward, tearing her open and entering her warmth for the first time.

Her whinny expressed pain and panic; my answer expressed deep satisfaction. As I stroked within her, her fear was gradually replaced by pleasure. She was calling a joy as great as mine when my spunk shot into her depths. When I pulled out of her and off her, she trotted over to the other mares, no longer a skittish filly prone to stray.

I had time now to taste the grass.

And then the spring broke, shattering her.

“Yes,” he said again. He moved until he was above her with his chest brushing her still-sensitive nipples. “Darling Anne, I would not hurt you for the world. I am devastated to hurt you.” He sounded happy rather than devastated. Then the motion between her lower lips was warmer than his finger had been.

“Anne!” he said, and he surged over her. The pain was harsh, a damned hard pinch, if it were Alice’s pinch. Then his chin was level with her eyes, and the pain was fading away. “Oh, Anne, I am so sorry for hurting you.” He sounded, though, triumphant. The pain was part of the bargain, but he need not sound so proud. He had done nothing that another man could not have done. “Is the pain going away?”

“Yes.”

“May I move?” He should move, as he was weighing her down and invading her as well. He, however, did not wait her permission, and his motion was only back and forth in her and over her. The motion sped, he thrust as hard as the first time, and then he pulsed within her and slumped over her.

He got on his knees between her legs and placed himself against that slippery warmth. She tensed again. He pressed forward quite gently. Then he adjusted his posture so that he was on his elbows with his hands on her breasts. His back was arched so his bum was as high as it could get while his belly was rubbing hers. He stroked his thumbs over her nipples which responded only minimally.

His cock could feel the warmth all over his tip. It was nuzzled against her oily hymen, but he could feel the tightness of the muscles resisting him.

“You see, your pleasure is in my interest,” he said. He wouldn’t mention that her smile was what had attracted him. He’d seen enough of her false smiles when she was trying. “The oil on my hand...” He stroked that hand over her breast. “Does it bother you?”

“Oh no.” With her thoughts diverted from her hymen which was about to be broached to her breast which the sensible girl knew could be wiped clean, she relaxed.

He thrust forward suddenly and was in her.

Vivian had been dreading this moment, but the talk had tamed the dread. Then agony pierced her. She gasped and tightened every muscle, especially the one being spread.

“I know that hurt,” Sir Richard said. “But that is the worst of the hurt. Would you relax for me?” She didn’t know how to relax that particular muscle. She hadn’t even been aware of it before this night. The pain, though, was fading, and it hadn’t been all that great, anyway. She breathed evenly, and let her entire body relax. That seemed to work, as he sank against her and into her.

“So soft,” he said, “so warm.” He began to move in and out through her. Mother had said he would put his organ into her, but she hadn’t said anything about this going in and out. Still, the discomfort was only minor.

“It’s been so long,” Sir Richard said. He thrust against her as hard as the first thrust had been -- although much less painfully. He sagged over her, and she felt him pulse deep inside her.

Sometime later, he kissed her, pulled himself out, and moved away. He settled down on the bed beside her. Apparently, he was going to sleep beside her all night.

“No more,” she whispered. He stopped and lifted his head.

“Much more,” he said. Then his tongue was teasing her again. She couldn’t fight him, could even less fight herself. Her attempts at delay only drove her arousal higher, only wound her tighter. She couldn’t resist.

Then it broke. Spasm after spasm raced through her body. Still, his oral teasing continued. The climax lifted her hips off the bed, but his only concession was to grab her hipbones with his hands to hang on. Finally, when she could not possibly take more, he grasped her clitoris with his lips and sucked. The final spasm shook her spirit as well as her body. It also knocked him off.

When she became aware of her surroundings again, she was held in his arms.

“But,” she said.

“Lovely Jennifer,” he crooned. “You are safe in my arms. You are wonderful. You are here. This is your night.”

“But that is not what I was told...”

“That is not the key of the ceremony. It is, however, a fit beginning.” Beginning! She’d need eight hours of sleep to rise from this bed. Further arousal was totally impossible.

Instead of pushing her, or even speaking further, Greg merely lay close beside her with his arm around her.

It was touching her, but not resting on her. Considering that even breathing was difficult now, she was vaguely glad that she didn’t have to bear that weight. He occasionally kissed her shoulder. His phallus brushed her thigh, but he kept any idea he might have about using it to himself. That was fortunate, since he’d lost the chance. She could not stir from this position until morning.

Yet, when she awoke a few minutes later, she had turned on her side. Greg was cuddling her, and his phallus was pressed against her back. His hand cupped her breast.

“Enjoy your nap, Jennifer?” he asked.

“Needed it.” Indeed, her strength was restored. The arousal she had thought beyond her was beginning again. His hand moved on to the nipple. His other hand brushed the hair off her neck, and he kissed her there. She shivered at the kiss.

“Jennifer,” he said, “you have a mirror, you know how pretty you are to see.” Actually, she was not the prettiest girl in the family. “What you can’t know is how pretty you are to touch. ‘Pretty’ might not be the right word. Touching you is a delightful experience.”

Being touched was becoming a delightful experience, too, as was being kissed. She was discovering that the back of her neck was an erogenous zone. So was her ear. And, as his kisses traveled down the side of her neck, her arousal grew apace. When he moved back, she rolled over onto her back hoping for a real kiss. Instead, he kissed her shoulder and the inside of her arm. That was a bit more ticklish than arousing.