The Artist

"So if I just..." she said, drawing the skin back, exposing the head more, taking her time to examine it, trying to get herself used to the idea that it might fit nicely inside her.

The expression on Toby's face had contorted into a weird look that she hoped was one of pleasure. She didn't remove her hand from his cock, instead pulling it back up the shaft, having no idea what she was doing, hoping this was pleasant for him. His reaction suggested it was.

"Poppy..." he started. She hoped that she wasn't going to be disappointed. She suddenly realised that she didn't even know if he had a girlfriend. Sure they'd fantasised about each other last week, but that was her putting pressure on him. Maybe he wasn't even into her like that.

She slid her hand down his cock again before answering. At least he wasn't pushing her off, stopping her.

"Yes?" she asked, as innocently as she could.

"Should we go to my bedroom?" he replied.

Finally. She put on a thoughtful expression, pretending like this was something she had to think about. She thrust his cock a few more times, slowly, teasingly, watching his reaction, loving the control she was having over him. She might be on her back underneath him in a few minutes, but for now she was in charge.

"That would be nice," she smiled.

She picked up her bag and followed him into his room, hoping that he had finally got the message, and wasn't just wanting to show her some more of his artwork.

Poppy had never been inside a boy's bedroom before, but had always imagined that the walls would be full of posters of half naked pop stars and models. Poppy didn't really like the idea of being watched by scantily clad celebrities, and she was pleased to see that Toby's walls were plain, except for a few pieces of artwork, one a landscape and another something more abstract.

Toby looked nervous. Poppy had always assumed that her first time would be with a guy who had done this before, and that he would take charge. It was kind of nice that he was as nervous as she was. She'd always wondered whether she'd actually admit to a guy that it was her first time, whether she'd have to pretend that she knew what she was doing. She just wished that she wasn't having to do all the work.

Poppy lay down on the bed and spread her legs. She reminded herself that he'd already seen everything she had, tried not to get embarrassed. If seeing her lying here like this didn't get him going, she didn't know what would.

"Do you want to spoon?" she asked, remembering what Sarah had told her about her first time, how Jake had held her in his arms until they had both been ready to take things to the next stage.

"Erm... yeah, that'd be nice," Toby said, approaching awkwardly, his eyes focussed on her cooch. Poppy knew that he would be thinking about putting his cock in there, and could feel herself blushing bright red.

As he lay down beside her she turned away from him, closing her legs, waiting for him to wrap his arm around her. Eventually, slowly, awkwardly, he manoeuvred himself up to her, putting an arm round her, pulling her close to him. Poppy could feel his naked body pressed against her back, his erect cock warm against her. She had never been this close to a human being before, not naked, but it felt so right, as if it was meant to be.

Poppy wriggled against him, snuggling up, enjoying his embrace, getting herself comfortable with the touch of his naked body, of feeling his hardened manhood against her, knowing it was hard because of her, knowing it was hard for her, that it had readied itself to fit snugly inside her.

"Did you enjoy drawing my cooch?" she asked softly.

"Very much," Toby replied. "It's beautiful."

"Were you... thinking about... you know, putting yourself in it?" Poppy said, shy about describing sex even though they were snuggled up here naked, hopefully not long off doing it.

"I tried to concentrate but... it was difficult," Toby said.

"I suppose... it will be something interesting to remember your first time by," Poppy said, wondering if Toby would make a habit of drawing the cooches of girls he slept with.

"Yeah..." Toby said, sounding a little disappointed.

"What?" Poppy asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"Well, I guess... I'm hoping I don't need a drawing to remember it," he said, hesitantly. "You know... if... we keep seeing each other."

Poppy felt a sudden twinge between her legs. Her cooch had been tingling gently up to this point, but suddenly there was an ache all the way through it, going inside her, wanting to be filled. Toby didn't just want her now. He wanted her to keep.

"Toby... I'd like to... rub myself - if that's OK?" Poppy said, feeling silly to have to ask a boy for permission to touch her own bits, but equally feeling like it was the right thing to do.

"Erm... yeah... OK," he said, seeming unsure.

Poppy felt stupid. Why was she asking for permission to touch herself? She had a real life boy here, one she massively fancied. It was time to let her cooch feel a guy's touch.

"Or... you could do it?" she suggested, barely able to believe what she was saying.

"Touch your...?" he asked.

"You could... start on my boobs," Poppy suggested.

When she masturbated, she always focussed on her clit, playing with her boobs just felt silly. She knew they got sensitive when she got excited, but she'd never really focussed on playing with them, just the odd brush with her hand, a squeeze or two when she got really excited and forgot what she was doing. But the idea of having a boy focus on her boobs... well, that was different.

Still holding her close to him, Toby moved his hand up her body, feeling for her bare chest. His hand brushed the underside of her boob, sending another shock through her body, up to her brain and down between her legs. He held her boob in his hand, cradling it, making it tingle and fizz with pleasure.

Poppy could feel herself starting to rub her legs together, trying to sate the urge, but Toby was exploring now, running his hand onto her nipple, that hard bud super sensitive now. Her whole body was getting warmer, getting turned on just by his hand on her breast, not even needing him to touch her clit.

He squeezed hard, but she didn't mind; he could do whatever he wanted, it was his - she was his. She could hear his breath quickening, and feel him gently starting to rub his cock against her, leaving a trail of wetness. She pushed her body closer into his, wanting no division between them, wanting them to be one.

Eventually, without prompting, Toby ran his hand down her stomach, down over that heart shaped patch of pubes, and her legs separated, welcoming him in, and his hand touched her lips, and it felt like nothing had ever felt before. Her fingers twitched with surprise as her body tried to understand how she could be feeling this if she wasn't touching herself. His fingers were bigger than hers, thicker, rougher, better.

He paused and she made a sound of protest, stripped of the ability to speak now, reduced to her instincts. He understood and ran his hand back up her wet lips, hand finding her clit.

"Is that your..." he asked, uncertainly.

"Clit, yeah," she giggled nervously.

"So I guess I... rub that?" he asked.

"That would be nice," she whispered.

Toby started to rub his fingers over her clit, which was already standing to attention and did so even more as he played with it. His technique was lacking, and Poppy's fingers itched to get down there and rub it in just the right way, the way she knew it liked, the way she knew pushed her towards climax, but she didn't want his fingers off her, she knew they belonged down there, and the frustration just added to her arousal.

Her cooch ached with pleasure, begged for attention all over, not just her clit, her boobs lonely again now his hand had deserted them. Her body begged to be filled, her vagina demanding that she finally let it do its job, let it accommodate a guy. His cock continued to rub up against her body, so close and yet so far. It was time.

"You ready baby?" she asked.

"Yeah, you?" he asked.

"Yeah."

There was a pause.

"I don't have..." he said, sounding slightly panicked.

"In my bag," Poppy said calmly.

Toby released her, and she felt lonely instantly. She rolled onto her back and watched him look through her bag, pulling out a packet. She saw his cock standing to attention, and thought about where he was going to put it. It looked so big. Was it supposed to be that big? Would it fit?

Toby came and knelt on the bed next to her, ripping open the packet. Before he did, she made a request.

"I just want to..." she said, not sure exactly what she wanted.

She took hold of his cock, and he didn't resist. She pulled back the foreskin, taking in the exposed head, the glistening pre-cum. She held him tight, admiring it, his cock all erect especially for her, ready to give them both pleasure. She massaged it only gently, but the look on his face showed her how good it felt. She knew she'd find room for it, knew she'd make sure he came.

"OK," she said, relinquishing control.

He pulled the condom on, somewhat nervously but without messing up.

She spread her legs again. It was time.

He lay on top of her, and this felt right now. This was what millions of men and women all over the country did every night. This was what Sarah and Jake did. And now this was what she did. What she and Toby did.

He cuddled up to her, positioning himself between her legs which she wrapped around him, clutching him, opening herself up to him. Their lips touched, and for the first time they kissed. It was a strange but perfect first kiss, so natural, not at all forced or awkward, his lips tasting delicious, fitting to hers perfectly.

They kissed again, sharing this special moment, the rest of their bodies pressed together, his cock ready for her, her body begging for him, but both determined to enjoy these precious few seconds, the last seconds of their innocence, their final kiss as virgins.

The two looked at each other, staring deep into the other's eyes, soul, and they knew that no longer should they be apart, they needed to be complete. With surprising ease he moved himself forward and into her, Poppy taking a deep breath as his large cock made its entry into her tight passage, pushing her open.

He watched her closely and instinctively stopped an inch or two in, then withdrew, before slowly taking her again, both lost in this new experience. It ached, but a nice ache. He slid in and out easily, her vagina wet from her excitement, her juices no longer wasted but helping to ease the entry of a guy's cock. Her guy's cock.

He started to thrust slightly faster, harder, further, filling her out, rubbing against previously unexplored parts of her, triggering pleasure sensors she never knew existed. Her hand naturally found its way to her clit which rewarded her instantly with a jolt of pleasure, the old favourite mixing with the new sensation of his cock now confidently thrusting ion and out, accompanied by the odd moan, his face distorted in enjoyment.

She rubbed harder and his cock thrust harder, her whole body filling with pleasure, her mind only on him and his huge cock and its journey of discovered, in and out and nice and nice and sigh.

His thrusts got more urgent, his groans louder, his whole cock now filling her, his balls touching against her, again and again, hard and intense and difficult and lovely and intolerable and unstoppable and...

Poppy felt a twitch inside her, and Toby's whole body seemed to deflate, his face contorting then relaxing. His thrusts slowed as her hand worked faster, her clit burning up, her body going crazy, her mind overloaded. She wanted it harder and faster, but it was getting slower and softer. She needed it, her clit wasn't enough.

He slipped himself out, removing the condom and tying it. He was done, but she wasn't. She grabbed him and pushed herself on top, wrapping her legs around his left leg, applying her cooch to his skin, rubbing it hard against his hairy limb, determined that he was going to give her her own climax.

She held tight, clutching her body to his, kissing him, taking control, looking into his eyes, remembering posing for him, her exposed, bare lips on show to the fully clothed guy, not able to hide herself as he took her privacy and committed her most intimate parts to paper, and she did it specially for him, to get her legs wrapped round him like this, to...

The climax shot through her body, more intense and special than ever before, conquering her, melting her. Her urge to cuddle, so often there but always unfulfilled, it was there but it was settled, her arms clutching him and his clutching her, their lips meeting again, a magic in the kiss that could surely only exist immediately after an orgasm.

They lay there in the afterglow, their bodies combined in a heap, still tingling, still relishing the pleasure the other had given them. He didn't need a drawing of her; they were definitely going to be seeing more of each other.

***

The sketch book was open on the bed. It was the special one. Each page a perfect drawing of her. Not all were naked. There was Poppy in beautiful dresses, in her ordinary clothes, in her underwear, naked but with her hands covering her, teasing him. And then there were the studies of just one part of her body: her face, her left boob, her right boob, her bottom, her crotch, her cooch.

Poppy was long past having any insecurities about her body. If one session posing for Toby helped, the tens or even hundreds of sessions over the three years since she'd met him had made them completely disappear. She turned the page and there was a close up between her legs, her thick pubes which she had now regrown tangling untidily over her cooch.

Although she'd long since lost any inhibitions about showing him her lady parts, cooch drawings were still reserved as a special treat for him; this one had been his birthday present a few weeks ago, Poppy posing with her legs open for hours so that he could capture her perfectly, then, as was their usual practice after cooch drawings, they'd gone to the bedroom, just as they had after the first.

Toby was never without his sketch book, hence why he had it here with him even on their wedding night. Poppy had agreed to pose in her wedding dress so that he could draw her, a memory of the day to add to the photograph album.

Toby had been downstairs, saying goodbye to the last of the relatives. Now he walked into the room. He looked at Poppy, standing there in her underwear, ready to put on her dress for her drawing session. Next he looked at the sketch pad, still open on the picture of her hairy cooch. Then at the bed, and back at Poppy.

"I could draw you tomorrow instead?" he said, a trace of hopefulness in his voice.

Poppy smiled and shrugged. She reached behind her back to unfasten her bra and said "yeah, OK, leave the drawing 'til tomorrow. We have something else to do tonight."