Chelsea's 18th Birthday Ch. 01

"No, I've got something. That's fine, yeah."

"Okay, good. Well, I'll pick you up at 7 then."

"Okay," she stammered. "Okay." It's all she could say.

"Later."

"Okay."

She had three hours until 7. What was she thinking? She didn't have a dress! Chelsea ran to get her purse and darted out the door. She was headed for the mall.

Her favorite store had a little black sweetheart topped dress with a ruffly bottom on sale in her size. Perfect. It hit her just above the knee and it wasn'ttoo dressy. She was however worried about it not having any straps. Before she left the mall she picked up some shoes and she decided she'd buy some powder, mascara, nail polish, and some clear lip gloss.Sell out, she called herself in her head. All this money on a new outfit and make-up for a date with a guy she'll never end up with. Whatever. It'll be a good experience and some free food from and awesome restaurant. Besides, she was always a little curious about make-up.

At home she waited until the very last to don her new dress so she didn't get it wrinkled or get makeup on it.

Five minutes before 7 there was a knock on the door. She knew who it was but she ran to check through the peep hole anyway. "Just a minute," she called through the door.

Chelsea threw on her dress and froze, mortified. She couldn't zip up her own dress. She had to ask the dressing room attendant at the store to help her. What was she going to do?

Slowly she opened the door. Brent was leaning against the banister a few feet from her door. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Um, unfortunately, yes. I need a favor and this is really embarrassing. Please don't laugh."

"What is it?" he inquired walking closer. Brent tried to push the door open but it was held closed. She sighed.

"I can't zip up my dress," she said softly.

"Well, I can't help you if you don't let me in," he replied teasingly and maybe a little bit flirty. He pushed the door open and found her clutching desperately to the long zipper that started just above her panty line. "Oh, one of those zippers," he noted.

"Yeah." Chelsea reluctantly let go other dress to expose her nude back. The dress had build in cups so she wasn't even wearing a bra. If it wasn't as tight fitting as it was, she could have slipped it over her head.

Brent studied her naked back. He grasped this zipper in his fingers and pulled until it stopped after only about two inches. "It's a tight dress, you might want to inhale." He dare not say "suck in." She complied. He placed his hand on the small of her back at the base of the zipper. She all but trembled at his touch. Again he began zipping up her dress keeping his hand on her lower back. When he reached the top, his hand slid to her hip as he pulled her hair back over her shoulder so that it was behind her again.

"Thanks," she said softly. "Let me grab my purse." She walked over to where her purse was, took one look at the black and white checkered messenger bag and changed her mind. "Never mind, I'm ready."

"You look nice. The dress is hot," he said causing Chelsea to blush.

"Thank you."

Chelsea had never been to Juliard's before. It was beautiful. The trip over was quiet except for when Brent broke the silence one time and said, "It looks good on you."

"The dress?"

"The makeup." He paused and continued after not receiving a response. "You looked fine without it but it looks really nice."

"Thank you," she said shyly, almost inaudibly.

Chelsea couldn't stop looking at him. He looked amazing. White button-up shirt and a black pin striped blazer. So hot!

The maitre de seemed to have been expecting them and led them to Brent's father's table.

"Howard Hawkins. You must be Danica."

"No, dad," Brent interjected. "This is Chelsea. I'm not seeing Danica anymore,"

"Oh. Alright then. Nice to meet you, Chelsea. Sorry about that. Have a seat and we'll order."

Chelsea found herself well entertained by Brent and Howard Hawkins. As it turned out, Howard owned many of the businesses in the city including Juliard's and her apartment building. That's why Brent lived there. Clay also lived in the building, she discovered.

The trio carried on for a couple of hours laughing, enjoying find food and fine company.

It was nearing 10 o'clock and Brent's father decided it was time to conclude the evening.

"Chelsea, it was a pleasure. Thank you for your company."

"Thank you, Mr. Hawkins for the lovely dinner."

*********************

As they climbed the stairs to their apartments, laughing and talking, Chelsea felt butterflies as she began to think about if he was going to try and kiss her or not.

"So, you're gonna come in and chill a while, right? Don't worry, my friend's at his own apartment for a change."

"Oh, I don't know. It's getting late," she replied instinctively.

"It's like, ten. Come in. You can leave if you get sleepy. I've got some beer. We could watch a movie, I dunno."

Chelsea hesitated.

"Well, if you don't, I won't help you with your zipper." They both smiled big and she walked over to his door. "Cool," he said.

Whoa. This is getting really weird. This morning she was masturbating to the thought of him, now tonight she's going to spend time with him in his apartment. She had decided that while he was surely not the type of guy that she'd usually go for, she was starting to really like Brent. She had so much fun and loved his witty character.

"You want a drink?" he asked as he walked to the kitchen.

"Sure," she said. "What have you got?"

"Screwdrivers? Or beer? Or Tequila Sunrise, perhaps?" he wooed.

"Screwdriver sounds good." Chelsea wasn't much of a drinker, herself. She had a glass of Mr Hawkins's expensive wine at the restaurant. The only reason she drank it all is because she didn't want to be rude and waste it. Brent had a few drinks as well. I guess you can get drinks for anyone you want when you own the restaurant.

Brent brought back the drinks and handed her one. It was strong, but it was tolerable.

"So what did the farmer say when he found the brown cow and the brown chicken in the barn making out?"

She cut him a bewildered eye. "What?"

"Brown-chicken-brown-cow," he said quickly and laughed.

Chelsea didn't laugh. She just smiled back at him.

"Like bow chicka bow wow. Brown-chicken-brown-cow," he explained.

"No, I get it. I just didn't think it was that funny." Brent looked disappointed that it didn't go over as well as he had liked. "It was cute, okay? It was cute."

"You're cute," he replied. Chelsea looked away uncomfortably and he could sense it. It seemed to excite him. "Actually, you look beautiful tonight."

"Anyway, your dad is really nice for a land lord," she said, desperate to change the subject.

"I'm serious, Chelse. You've got the prettiest eyes I think I've ever seen," he said. "Chelsea, look at me." He giggled at her shyness and sat back and took a drink. "You're so silly, Chelsea."

"What do you mean 'silly'? You're just trying to embarrass me," she said scowling at him.

"You're not drinking your screwdriver."

"I'm not in a hurry, Brent. I don't have to guzzle it down like you are."

"You couldn't anyway," he teased.

"I could if I wanted to."

"Nah," he said as he sat back in his chair; trying to seem dead-set on his accusation.

"Yes, I could."

"Do it."

"You wish. I'm not falling for that little mind trick," she said.

"Not trying to trick you, Chelse. I've just never seen a woman really own her alcohol. Own it. You dainty little girls always sip your little fruity pussy drinks and..."

Chelsea stood up, grasped her tall glass in her hand and started chugging. She drank half the glass and made a grimace and took a breath.

Shocked and excited Brent started rooting her on. She finished off her glass and sat back down.

"Impressive. Would you like another?"

"Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Only giving you options."

"I'm fine. I'm starting to feel this one and I'm sure it's only going to get worse- I mean, better," she joked.

Brent finished his drink off and moved closer to her. "So, did you have fun tonight?" he asked softly.

Chelsea smiled. "Yeah, of course."

"Cool. Me, too. Dinner was good, huh?" he said even softer, keeping eye contact.

"Yeah. Thanks for bringing me. I really enjoyed everything." She was trying so hard not to look him in the eyes. His gaze was so intense she couldn't handle it. Why was he looking at her this way? It was almost scary. Was he drunk? She didn't think so.

"Chelsea, I need to let you know something. You've probably been wondering, too. I have a rule that I go by about kissing on the first date."

"Oh, is that right? And this was a first date?"

"Yeah, of course. I know my dad was there but it still counts because you're at my house half drunk."

"I thought it was just an apology/birthday dinner."

"Well, yeah, but I just called it that to get you to go on a date with me."

"You think you had totrick me?"

"Are you saying it would have been easy to get you to go out with me?" Brent smiled. His eyes danced all over her. She could feel them searing her flesh.

"I just meant..." she started, being careful with her choice of words. "Why did you think that you couldn't get a girl like me to go on a date with you? You're Brent Hawkins."

"What do you mean 'a girl like you'?"

"Forget it."

"No," he said seriously. "Are you trying to say that you're not good enough for me? That's crap. All ya need is to get along great, which we seem to, and be attracted to each other, right?"

"Well, I guess so."

"So?"

Oh, how badly she wanted to just leave. She just wanted to escape this extremely uncomfortable situation. But at the same time, she was finding herself attracted to to this flirtatious side of him. "So what?" As if she didn't know what he meant.

"So, do you think I'm attractive?"

"Well, you're not really my type," Chelsea confessed.

"You're not mine either," he said totally surprising her. "But I still find you very attractive." She blushed wildly and uncomfortably. "So?"

"Brent, stop," she said softly, nearly shaking with nervousness; her stomach filled with butterflies.

"Do you want to kiss me?" he asked.

"Oh, what about your rule about not kissing on the first date?"

"I said I had a rule about kissing on the first date. I didn't say what that rule was." She looked confused. "My rule is that I have to kiss the girl if we had a good time. But I have to..." He leaned close to her, inches from her face and stopped, "...ask for permission." Her breath quickened. "Well?" he whispered.

Chelsea was quickly becoming overwhelmed. Her mind starting to become numb, she closed her eyes and exhaled letting out a tiny whimper. That was all the response he needed. Brent wet his lips and moved in. He was pleasantly surprised at how welcoming her mouth was. His tongue moved past her soft lips with ease and they kissed for several moments. He could tell she was holding back, so he broke the kiss gently.

"Why are you so shy?" he asked planting tender kisses on her right cheek.

She sighed heavily, her mind still racing. "Relax," he whispered. "You taste so sweet. Kiss me back, baby."

Brent slid his right hand across her face and guided her lips to meet his. The combination of his words and touches sent her reeling. Shewanted to kiss him. Sheloved kissing him. He was so gentle and loving. With her new found inspiration she kissed him back- hard. She felt his other hand cradle the back of her head as the kiss got more heated. His right hand slid down her neck and to her shoulder. He began to caress the skin above her neckline of her sweetheart top. Gently grazing the tops of her breasts to her neck and back again.

"I've been wanting to kiss you since you woke me up this morning," he said smiling, "when I saw you staring at my chest."

She didn't know he had noticed.

"And ever since I zipped up your dress, I've wanted tounzip it and do this." With a quick fluid motion his hand that had been wandering sunk into the top of her dress, pushing it down and groped her left breast. Chelsea jerked herself backwards but he kept his grip, keeping himself close to her, trying to keep her calm.

"Shh. You wanted me to."

"Please, stop," she whined.

"Chelsea, you want this. Listen to your body. It wants to be touched," he whispered.

"No," she replied only half as assertively as she had planned.

"Shh. It feels good, doesn't it, Chelsea?" He denied her the opportunity to reply and kissed her mouth deeply. He skillfully kneaded and massaged her breast with his patient hand; gently rolling her now stiff nipple between his fingers. It took her a moment to kiss him back but she felt the heat stirring up inside of her more intensely now.

As if waiting for approval, as soon as she began kissing him back, his left hand slowly found her zipper and began pulling it down.

"What are you doing?" she asked moderately alarmed.

"What you want me to do," he teased as he nibbled on her ear sending chills down her spine.

"I never told you that."

"Oh, yes you did." Finally the zipper reached the bottom and he slipped the dress down to her waist.

Shamefully, she covered up with her arms, "Don't look," she whimpered.

"Why not?" He tried not to laugh at how silly she was being. "Seeing is half the fun."

Chelsea just looked away ashamed. "I don't like it," she whispered.

"What, your body?" he asked. "Are you kidding me? Well, it's a good thing I do." He placed his hand on her cheek and moved her face to look at him. "Come on. I want to see." He passed his fingers through her hair. "Open up to me, Chelsea. Relax. Let me see." He put his hands on her crossed arms coaxing her to reveal herself to him. Eventually she gave in and let her arms fall to her side revealing her ample breasts. She studied his face and reaction intently. He caressed her with his eyes and then with his hands, encircling her globes causing her to close her eyes and bite her bottom lip. He had no idea how sensitive her breasts were. This was heaven.

Suddenly he stopped. Upon opening her eyes she saw him taking his own shirt off. This had gotten really intense really fast.

His eyes were fixed upon her own, rendering her immobile. Brent tossed his shirt aside and moved closer to her, keeping his eyes on her reactions as he glided his hands across her breasts. He watched her chest heave as her breath became heavier.

Brent pressed his lips to her ear. "It's okay to touch me back." He kissed her neck and made his way to her breasts. Kissing, sucking, and licking. This felt even better than she had imagined. She could no longer help herself and placed her hands on his modestly muscular back, encouraging him to continue.

"Oh, god," she whimpered involuntarily.

"I told you that you wanted it," he said, meeting her eyes again. "And I think I know what else you want." Brent placed his hands on her knees and moved them up under her dress to her hips.

"No. No. You can't. I can't go any further. Please!" she exclaimed.

"Chelsea, Chelsea, you're acting like a virgin, baby. I'm not going to hurt you." For some reason, she didn't want to tell him that shewas a virgin. "How about a compromise? I'll ask your body what it wants. If it doesn't want me, I'll stop. Deal?" Confused as she was, she nodded in compliance. She felt his hand at her crotch, touching her at her most private of parts. She felt his fingers pull her panties aside and touch her where she touched herself that morning. Except it felt so much better when he did it. "Chelsea, you are so fucking wet, baby," he said in a husky and lustful voice. She trembled with fear and embarrassment. "You know what that means?" He picked her up in his arms and carried her off into his bedroom.

"What are you doing?" she yelled.

Lying her down, he stroked her hair before he removed her shoes. "Take off your dress, Chelsea."

"I can't," she said, nearly sobbing. Why wasn't she doing more to stop him? Without a moments hesitations Brent grabbed hold of her dress and slipped it down her legs and dropped it on the floor. Chelsea laid there on his bed in nothing but a pair of black bikini panties. Her legs twisted, trying to hide her nakedness in vein.

She felt him lay next to her, cradling her, spooning her in his arms, stroking the length of her body. "Why are you trembling?"

"I'm scared," she managed to say without bursting into tears.

"Chelsea, why are you scared? Don't you trust me? Don't you know that I will take good care of you? Don't you know that I would never hurt you? I just want to make you feel good."

"I know," she said feeling strangely comforted. "But... I've never... you know... been with a man before."

**************Brent's POV**************

Brent lay behind her stunned and silent. He wasn't sure what to think or what to say. He felt bad initially for being so forceful with her. But the more he thought about it, he reminded himself: she didwant him. She was responding positively toward him until now. It's not like he's holding her down.She wants it, he convinced himself.And she wants me to give it to her first. She just isn't completely convinced.

A renewed sense of arousal grew in him. He was going to enjoy this more than he thought. He'd never taken a girl's virginity before. He knew that this was going to have to be love making, not sex. And he was going to have to make love to her mind just as much as to her body to make this the unforgettable evening that she deserves. It was going to be a long, emotional, fucking amazing night.

His prolonged silence frightened her. "I'm a virgin," she reiterated.

"Thank you for telling me," he said lovingly. "If you want, and only if you want, we can keep going. We won't do anything that you aren't comfortable with. I want you to love this experience and I want to be the one that carries you through it. I want you to trust me with that responsibility."

He could feel her relaxing in his arms. She was still scared though. He could see the agony in her face as she sorted out things in her mind. Afraid she'd choose to go home, he decided it was time to set his seduction plan into motion.

"Look at me, Chelsea," he said pulling her down to lay flat on her back. She covered her breasts with one arm." I want to help you get comfortable. How about a massage? It will help you relax and feel better about me touching your body."

Chelsea nodded. "And if you have any doubts about the beauty of your body, you can rest assured that it is very beautiful." Her entire body became flush. "Your heart and mind got me very very turned on to you tonight and after seeing you like this, I'm awestruck. I'm so incredibly aroused just looking at you." She scoffed and turned her head. "I'm serious, Chelse."

"What about your ex-girlfriend Danica? I'm bigger than her."

"Fuck Danica. I don't give a damn about Danica. So what if you're thicker than she is?" Chelsea was startled by his anger. "I'm not comparing you to her. You're not Danica. Thank God, too. I don't want you to look like her. I want you to look like this. I love this. Why can't you just..." Brent's ranting was cut short when Chelsea sat up and flung her arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry. Please don't yell at me anymore," she said close to tears.

"Come here." Brent positioned Chelsea so that she was on her knees sitting straight up and he did the same. Their bodies matching legs to legs, torso to torso, face to face. "Relax. I want you to feel your heart beat and try to feel mine." She complied. "Feel me breathe and breathe with me." They were so close it was incredible. As if they were one being living off the same breath and the same blood supply. She had never felt so close to anyone. It was very relaxing and extraordinarily arousing to her. He wrapped his arms around her and moved his fingertips over her back giving her goosebumps. It had relaxed her just as he hoped it would.