The Virgin

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A story of love, sex, and the first time.
1.2k words
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I walked into the bedroom, messy as usual. I knew he would be there soon, so I began frantically throwing things into closets, drawers, anywhere I could find room. Opening my bedside table drawer, I found the needed items for the evening. I set them around the room. Candles on the dresser, sachet under the pillows, and my favorite CD mixes in the radio.

An hour later, the room was transformed. The door from the living room onto the balcony slid open, and I felt nervous. As he sauntered from looking over the edge to the door leading to the bedroom, his hair shone in the moonlight. He opened the doors, and the wind created the perfect look to the light fabric I used to layer over the canopy of the bed. The blue wisps blew all around me, as I laid waiting for him to notice me. His eyes danced across the room, first falling on the candles upon the tables nearest the balcony doors, then to the bed, then to me. He smiled, looking at the details of my clothing. I had chosen a dainty nightgown, the same color blue as the bed.

I felt his eyes looking at the curves silhouetted in the nightgown, daring him to see more than what I was showing. He began to walk closer to me, and I was elated. He stopped at the edge of the blue curtains that were still moving slowly in the wind, and began to undress. First, he unbuttoned his white shirt, and revealed his fit stomach. The shirt dropped to the floor, but I never took my eyes off his body. Next, he fumbled with the button on his black pants, and before I knew it, the zipper was down and the pants were off. Then he parted the blue curtain, and stood in his boxers, watching me with fascination.

I smiled shyly, and welcomed him into my bed. He crawled across the satin comforter, and laid gently next to me, watching me. I stared into his eyes for as long as he would let me before he turned away, and lounged carefully upon the rose-smelling pillows. I was worried, things were going rather slow. Then I decided that he needed me to progress the evening, and I rolled onto my side, nightgown clinging in all the right places, and kissed him gently.

At first, he was just politely returning the kiss, until I grabbed his hand and placed it upon my barely-clad hip. Then he kissed me with passion I had never felt, and I was melting at his touch. He slid his hand to my waist, and stopped there, wanting to go further but waiting for me to approve. I put my arms around him, and pulled my body closer to his, signaling to him to continue. He did, barely touching my breast, then drawing back to see my reaction. I smiled demurely, and held him closer. I could feel him; I knew he wanted to have me.

I helped him remove my nightie, and I sat, naked for him to examine my body. He grinned, and removed his shorts. We sat for ages, touching, exploring every crevice, every curve. He ran his hand between my legs, and I shuddered in pleasure, scared of his touch yet wanting it so much. I pushed him onto his back, and slowly kissed his chest, moving down slowly. He lay there, in anticipation of what was to come.

I gently licked his hipbone, making him laugh as I tickled him with my hair. I looked up at him with big doe eyes, innocent as could be, and he smiled. I ran my tongue along the edges of his groin, causing him to twinge slightly. I knew what he wanted, and I was going to comply. I grasped his hard dick in my hand, and licked the tip. I licked away the precum that had accumulated on it, and put just the tip into my mouth. He moaned lightly at the warmth of my mouth. I slid his shaft further in, licking the backside of his penis. I held his balls in my hand, gently massaging them. He moaned louder this time, and I felt his veins pulsing in my mouth. I tasted more salty precum, and I pulled away, postponing his pleasure. He panted in pleasure, his eyes calling out for more. He spoke, asked me not to stop. I replied with my body, straddling him, and with my breasts hanging down onto his chest, I leaned into him and kissed his neck.

His body was warm; I could feel his heart beating, like a bird trapped in a cage. He trembled as I lead his penis to my pussy, rubbing my clit with his head, and then I let him enter me. I slowly moved my hips down onto him, so that he could be fully inside of me. He closed his eyes, his head rolled back onto the pillow. I moved gently at first, the faster up and down on him. I sat straight up on him, and rocked back and forth, almost causing myself to cum right away. I slowed, wanting to prolong the evening, and laid upon his chest. He moved his hips with mine, pushing into me and pulling out, feeling me from the inside.

I moaned as I bit his shoulder softly. I could feel the bumps on him rubbing in me, hitting all the right places effortlessly. I got the hint that he had never known such a feeling, and I later found out I was right. But for now, we were wrapped up in the methodical movements, looking deep into each other's eyes, searching for love, passion, whatever we could find. Suddenly he threw me off, I rolled onto my back, and he entered me from the missionary position, with such force I cried out in surprise. I held him tightly, feeling the shape of his shoulders, his back. His pubic hair was tickling me, I laughed softly. He smiled at me, still thrusting, and asked if he could cum in me. I told him no, and he moved a little slower. I moved so he had to withdraw himself, and told him to stand on his knees. He did, and I once again took him into my mouth.

Almost instantly he came, flooding my mouth with salty warm liquid. I felt the last drop, leaned back, and swallowed it. He remarked that it looked as if I was taking a shot, and then he collapsed onto the bed, sweaty and spent. I laid next to him, the sheets sticking to our wet bodies. We talked, chatting to fill the silence, about work, his roommates, my school, his dog. I was tired, he needed to be going home, but I could not let him leave. He laid back down next to me, the blue curtain had fallen off a long time ago, and we could see out the open balcony door.

The sky was dark, barely any stars. The wind blew harder, making us cold from the sweat that still clung to our bodies. The candles were melting, dripping onto the carpet. I did not care. Then he looked at me, and I knew I loved him then. I always knew.

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