tagRomanceTeenage Dream

Teenage Dream

byfnightq7©

Ross and I had always had chemistry. From the moment we met in year eight, I knew I fancied him. His short blonde hair and wide, owl-like baby blue eyes always had me feel like he could see straight through my spaghetti-strap tops to the skin underneath. Just thinking about it made the hairs on my neck stand on end, and gave me that cold, dizzying feeling in the stomach.

Nothing happened until year nine, when we made out at a school disco. We danced together all night. I remember rubbing myself against him, his hands on the insides of my thighs, or my ribs right below my breasts. I wondered sometimes if those accidental brushes against my more intimate parts had been on purpose or not. I led him out to the lobby of the nightclub and we held each other very close, until our foreheads and nose-tips touched, and we kissed. I'd never forget how that kiss made me feel. I'd strained to achieve it with a million men and women since, but nothing had ever compared. The heat round my collar, at my fingertips and between my legs gently throbbing, pulsing like my passion was alive.

But it wasn't until the upper sixth that we finally authenticated our feelings for each other. I was twenty, he was just nineteen... He'd been in a two-year relationship with a girl called Charlotte – a small, skinny girl with a huge nose and ridiculous afro cum bird nest hairdo. They'd had a pretty public sex-life, which she had said was amazing, and he had never said much of. It irritated me how she wound her arms around his neck like a snake, strangling him. He rarely enjoyed her company, and had lost many friends because of her, and I decided then and there to end it. She gave any girl a dirty look if she simply said hello to him, but as one of his oldest friends, I could go the extra mile. I flirted and cuddled him in front of her, and it began to drive her mad. Eventually, after two years, she dumped him for 'cheating on her'. One of their many petty squabbles. It was a good, if difficult, time for Ross, and of course, for me.

One night, some time later, we'd been watching films on a night in with some friends; James, Lawrence, Elisha and Pipa, before we all went our separate ways to university and such like. James -gay- and Pipa had both retired to my bedroom, and Lawrence had fallen asleep on the couch, and Elisha was upstairs on the phone to her girlfriend Chloe, so Ross and I went all the way to the top floor living room to watch some more films without disturbing them. It was the usual story – tucked up in bed watching a film, gradually edging closer, touching but not admitting it, eventually linking hands... and then the film ends. Awkward? Yeah. But surprisingly cosy with him, I got up and switched off the telly, climbed into the futon and sunk into the sheets. It was too dark to see each other, so I kept my eyes open, looking into the blank space where he was. Listening to the sound of his slow, peaceful breathing, I wasn't expecting much, and turned over.

For about five minutes, I lay still. Just lying there with him was enough to make my heartbeat irregularly fast and I even wondered at the fact that he couldn't hear it, it thumped so violently I could feel it in my back and throat. Then rather abruptly and suddenly, I felt him cuddle me. He nuzzled into my neck, and self-conscious as I was about my body, I was completely relaxed, with his arm around my waist. I could feel him begin to rub the skin of my neck so very tenderly with the tip of his nose. The sensation alone was enough to make me orgasm on the spot. I had to fight to control my breathing and slowly, very slowly, turned to face him. Our noses just touched. I could feel his warm breath on my own mouth, we must have been as close as we could come without touching. I put my hand to his face, brushed his nose with my lips gently, and withdrew. My heart beat so hard that I thought my chest would explode.

He kissed me. Slowly at first, tender and sweet as chocolate, but growing in speed and force. All of a sudden, I was back at that small nightclub on the mountainside once more, a young girl with a huge crush on a pretty young boy, putty in his hands; and his hands were exactly where I was. He wrapped me up and pulled me towards him; closer, closer. I moaned slightly as he nudged my head aside and began to kiss my neck, my spaghetti-strap top once again bearing so much skin that it might as well have not been there. All the way down to my collarbone he kissed, back and forth. His touch was like magic and I was very soon aware of my rock-hard nipples pressing into his chest as we kissed again. His warm hand caressed my hip, which moved up and down as the liquids began to fill my thong. He slipped his hands up my top, under my bra at the back. I longed for him to bring it round to my breast, to pinch my hard nipples and hold my bosom. I kissed his neck this time, and bit him gently. I kissed his ears and his eyes, he breathed roughly and sharply.

I could begin to feel his jeans tighten as he lay on his back and I straddled him. We kissed constantly, never stopping, as he pulled off my top and flicked open my bra, which fell gracefully and impatiently from my shoulders. He kissed my chest-bone, down, down, to my navel, and back up to my breasts. His soft, wet mouth engulfed my erect nipples, and I couldn't contain the release and pleasure. I began to gently rub myself against the growing bulge in his trousers.

Nothing compared to this. He made me feel immortal. He made me feel inhuman. His t-shirt came off shortly after and I kissed, licked, and flicked his nipples with my tongue. His low moans harmonised with my high ones as he began to undo my jeans button and fly. Both topless, lost in each other, it was as if love was a physical rope that bound us together. The feel of his hot skin on mine drove me wild with desire and I began to bite harder at his neck. I drew a little blood, though neither of us knew it. He had always loved my deep and dark bites, and his breathing quickened as he slipped a hand inside my pants.

I gasped. His hand was cold compared to the warmth of my juices, which flowed freely from between my slim legs. He flicked at my clitoris with the soft pad of his middle finger, and my head dropped onto his. I grinded on his hand, nose to nose with him, feeling the pleasure intensify and fill my body with a buzz that I'd felt with neither man nor woman all my life. He withdrew his finger, and placed it on my tongue. I tasted the salty beauty of my own pre-come all over his finger, and rolled onto my back. He pulled away both my jeans and thong at the same time, and I wrapped my legs around him, as he thrust so gently against me.

I knew what he wanted to do, and as we ceased to kiss for breath, I relaxed my body and he kissed my breasts once more, lower down to my navel, and even lower then, to the lips of my pulsing pussy. He slowly caressed my clitoris once more with his fingers, and ever so gently slipped one finger inside of me. As he brought his tongue down to my clit and began to move his hand up and down, I writhed on the bed with lust and longing. I wanted to feel him inside me so badly that I nearly said it out loud, but the sensation of his cold wet tongue against my throbbing genitals brought me so close to coming that I was distracted. He put two more fingers in, and kissed the insides of my legs, where his hands had caressed so many years ago.

I could take no more, if he kissed an inch more of my skin I would orgasm like I had never done before, and how long the recovery would take I did not know. I pulled him towards me and lay him on his back, pulling off his jeans. The thin cotton of his Calvin Klein boxers stretched to their max. He had a truly large penis, eight or nine inches, at least. But this mattered little to me. I pulled them off too, and as he lay, his breathing shallow and fast, took his long, thick shaft in my right hand, and his testicles in my left, and caressed him. He moaned with release. Eventually, he put his hand to my pussy once again, and we masturbated each other, kissing when we could spare breath. He became wetter and harder and eventually we relaxed to hold each other close. On our sides, I wrapped my legs around him.

You can guess what happened next. His penis pushed into me, my stomach went cold as he thrusted. Rubbing and writhing with each other, he moaned, and I louder, the pleasure intensifying into one enormous rush of passion and need. I couldn't stop myself. As he began to come inside me, filling me with his rich, creamy liquid, I whispered into his ear:

"I love you. I always have. Ross, I always will." His voice and come filled my body and he finished, and at the same time, the tension in my clitoris reached a climax, and I felt the warm, buzzing convulsions fill my body greedily. I loved him; there was no mistake. I could marry him. I could have his children. And at this moment in time, we were joined as one, clutching at each other, in an ecstasy we'd never felt before.

"I love you too Frances." He whispered.

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