Because I Care

"Please, at least let me sit down before you do that," she gasped, giggling, "My legs just got weak."

So she sat on the edge of his bed, knelt before her, and began touching her breasts, tracing his fingers along the firm curves, feeling her breath quicken as he neared her areolae, goose bumps raised with the contact between fingertips and her nipples, which almost hurt they were so tender.

"Hah," she bit her bottom lip, "No, it's okay, keep going. Just remember, I'm very sensitive."

He nodded and resumed touching her. Then he leaned forward and kissed first one breast and then the other. He cupped one in his hand, and began kissing the other, small, gentle kisses, hardly more kissing than brushing his lips against the skin, but each little kiss made her feel warmer, and, impossibly, more sensitive from one to the next, until her body felt like it was vibrating, and was on fire.

Finally, she stopped him, gasping, overwhelmed, "Wait, just a second or two, okay?"

"Did I hurt you? I was being gentle, I promise."

"No, you're amazing, it's just so intense, and I haven't been touched like that... ever! Part of me want to see what happens if you keep doing that to me, but the other part of me is scared as hell."

Andy shrugged, and started to say something, but she stopped him, "Yeah, I know what you're about to say. Let's see what happens, but if I faint, I hope you'll stop until I wake up again."

He leaned forward and resumed kissing her breast, now moving to the other one. He planted kiss after kiss, around in a spiral, using her gasps, whimpers, and moans to guide him, listening to them intensify as he concentrated his kisses much closer to her nipple, and then he opened his mouth and used his tongue, swirling the tip of it around the nipple, and then on the nipple. She grabbed the back of his hair, and the other hand clutched his shoulder, her head back, her mouth open, and one very sensuous moan urging him on.

She would never have thought that having Andy kiss and fondle her breasts the way he did could bring her to such a powerful orgasm, and, somehow, that made it the more powerful. She clamped her legs together, and strong shudders and shivers wracked her as she came, her muscles twitching, convulsing, and then commenced a slow coast down as her body began to relax, and she fell backward, her arms out, her breaths ragged. She lay there, waiting for her body to calm, feeling her panties, simple white, like her bra, which was somewhere down there on the floor, cling to her, soaked in what felt like a quart of pure liquid pleasure. Andy waited, eager to continue, but willing to wait for her approval.

With a sigh that turned into a giggle, she admitted, "I think I wanna do that again."

"Then let's do that again."

"But first, I need to do something," she lifted her hips, pushing her black, pinstriped pencil skirt down her legs, and then her drenched panties. Andy slid her low-heeled, black shoes off, and then helped with her skirt and panties, pulling them off and tossing them aside.

Andy eased up onto the bed, leaning over her to kiss her lips, which escalated quickly into another deep, breathtaking kiss, all pretension of control completely out the window. He kissed down her throat, to her breasts, but didn't stop there, instead winding his way down, awed by the softness of the skin of her body, and the silky feel of it on his lips. At her stomach, as he reached her belly button, her thighs parted as she anticipated his direction. He stopped just above the thatch of neatly-maintained pubic hair, dark and silky as her hair, which was now loose and long, and spilled out onto the bed under her head. He kissed her thatch, feeling the soft hairs tickle his nose, delighted to see that she had shaved herself below that thatch, opting to be hair-free around her inner labia. And, speaking of, other than magazines, or certain sites on the internet, he had never seen such a wonder up close before!

Her outer labia was slightly puffy, but her inner labia was slender, pink, and, nestling up there at the top of those slender lips, was just a bare glimpse of her clitoris, and her aroma, that sweet, slightly musky, intense scent, made him slightly dizzy with yearning. He desperately wished to just bury his face between her thighs, intent on claiming the source of that irresistible fragrance. She slid back on the bed, and then turned so that her whole body rested upon it. He positioned himself so that his head was above her thighs, and then leaned down. He trailed kissed past her pubic thatch, to her right thigh, and each touch of his lips on the delicate skin sent a thrill through her body. Too much more, and she would climax again quite quickly, but she made no move to slow him or stop him, instead guiding him straight to it.

"Please," she urged.

He kissed down to her inner lips, and then slid his tongue along them, tasting her, and knowing that the essence that was seeping from her cause that scent that made him shake with desire. As he parted her inner lips with his tongue, her fingers twined through his hair, tightening as he dipped his tongue inside her.

"Oh, that's good, it feels so good, please, do that more!"

His tongue found more of her essence, and it was an all-consuming need for him to induce her to produce more for him. Then she began undoing his belt, and his jeans, pushing them down, and he froze as she began touching and kissing his cock, which ached from being confined so long.

"Are you sure you want to do that? You don't have to, you can just let me do this for you."

She smiled, "I'm even more sure now than before you asked."

She took his length into her mouth, sucking gently on him, and he groaned, surprised at how hot her mouth felt, her tongue burning him deliciously, and he couldn't focus. What had he been doing? He licked his lips, and recalled, yes, that's what he'd been doing, and he'd better get back to it.

His mouth returned to her, and he lapped, licked, teased, stroked at her, in her, feeling her hips lift, relax, lift, her moaning muffled, but definitely louder, and, she suddenly let go of him, her hands grabbing him as her hips thrust forward over and over, and he pressed his mouth to her, because in that instant, his mouth was flooded with her, and, being the source of that unbearably wonderful aroma, he couldn't help himself but to want more of it. As she stilled, he released her from his mouth, his cheeks and chin slick, and slid to the side. He felt almost overwhelmed with raw emotion, elation, excitement, passion, and he wiped his mouth absently, senseless but for the smell of her, for a moment.

"I want more," she said, breathless.

Andy looked at her, "What do you mean?"

"I'd like for you to make love to me now."

"Um... I haven't..."

"Neither have I," she admitted, "But we'll figure it out. Now, please, make love to me now. Don't make me beg for it."

He gathered himself, positioned himself between her thighs, and she grabbed his shoulder.

"I don't have to tell you to be gentle," she said, "I'm hoping you already understand that."

He nodded, and guided himself so that the tip of his cock rubbed just between her inner lips, and then rubbed the tip against her, until most of the head glistened with her nectar. From there, he eased just the head in between the lips, and she winced.

"You're almost there," she whimpered, "Okay, I think I'm ready."

Andy looked down at her, seeing the tenseness in her expression, and also seeing a beautiful, achingly tender, and sweetly vulnerable woman waiting for him to enter her for the first time, and he almost couldn't. He couldn't deserve this woman's trust, not him, not anyone, as far as he was concerned, not a single man deserved to be where he was at this moment, but there she was, waiting for him to make that thrust, that carnal, purposeful thrust.

"Stop thinking," she seemed to read his mind, "And be mine."

He wasn't sure whether to ease in, or shove in, so he settled for somewhere in between. Either way, he supposed, it wouldn't make that first movement any less painful for her. Her legs wrapped quickly around his hips, and she cried out with the sudden pain, but when he tried to withdraw, startled, guilty, her legs tightened, and her hands grabbed him, holding him where he was.

"Just wait," she hissed, tears of pain in her eyes, "It'll pass, just wait. It's okay, it's supposed to be like this, that's why... nnnnnn! That's why it's so special. Nobody else will ever have this moment with me, just you... sss... just be still, and let it pass..."

He didn't move a muscle, at least not any he could control, and, though his heart raced with the persistent guilt of the pain he'd just caused, his body remained still, his cock being throttled by the tightness of her. Slowly, her legs relaxed, and her hands eased from his shoulders, sliding down to his sides.

"Okay, now, slowly, gently... sssss... no, keep going, just like that, it's passing now, that's it, slow... that's good... just slow, steady, it's already starting to feel good."

She pulled him close, her arms wrapping around his neck, and she continued to murmur in his ear while he moved within her.

"This is much better, now I can feel you against me, and in me, mmmm, deep now, ooh, slow, still, just deeper... ooh, yes, I can feel it throbbing... just... you can't... not inside me... let me know when you're close."

He nodded, understanding what she was requesting. Still, for his first time... for her first time, this was more for her, that's the way it should be, he decided, she deserved the best first time she could get, and he would try his damn hardest to ensure she got just that. But, with her tightness squeezing him like she was, it was a lot more difficult than he'd thought. So he thought of Jimmy, that football-playing asshole, and the way Cindi's first time would've gone if that bastard had gotten his way, and that did the trick for him. He began moving a little easier, able to stave off his own orgasm for a little longer, anyway. She responded well , beginning to move with him, arching her back, thrusting her hips to meet him. The pace quickened, as he was matching her movements, and hers quickened, so he began moving faster to keep pace. Suddenly, she was crying out, moaning, still urging him on, and he felt her body tense, inside and out, and, ah, shit, he was close, too close!

"I'm close," he warned, "I'm too close, gotta-"

"No!" she cried, "I don't care, it's too late! Don't you dare, I'm there, I'm... gonna... OOOOHHHHH YESSS!"

Even as he felt his cock becoming drenched with her juices, the squeezing, the heat of her, gripping him so tightly that he really had no hope of holding out, and he groaned, overcome by the throbbing, and he reached his climax right past her, as she was just beginning to coast down. He thrust hard, as deep as he could, and, in wrenching spurts that radiated through his body, he came, and the sensations brought her to climax again. She bucked against him helplessly, her body now beyond her control for the moment, and she gave in to it until it was done. Soon after, she was coasting to a halt, feeling pleasantly buzzed, her breathing gradually evening out. He trembled slightly, still grasped firmly within her, and she could hardly work up anything sharper than a mild, vague concern that he had finished inside her. After all, she wouldn't have let him withdraw, couldn't have once she was achieving such an all-consuming climax, and nothing could be done about that. Their mingled fluids drizzled from her, becoming slightly uncomfortable.

"Once I can walk again," she suggested quietly, "How about we have a shower?"

As it turned out, despite his own orgasm, he could walk, and, even better, he could carry her. So he did carry her, off the bed, down the hall, and into the bathroom. He started the shower, let it heat up, and they got in.

"I'm so glad I can stand," she giggled, "I was a little worried there, for a moment."

She stood on her toes and kissed him, and he held her, kissing her back. Then he made the mistake of looking down, and saw blood. He paled, and she looked down as well.

"You worry too much," she lifted his chin and made him look in her eyes, "Don't. That's supposed to happen. You've just made love to me, giving me the best first time I could ever hope for. I never thought I would let anyone make love to me, ever in my life. And now, my first time, my wonderful first time belongs to you."

"But I... you told me not to cum inside, and I tried to warn you when I was close-"

"Yes, you did just what I asked, but once I was so close, there was really no chance of that happening anymore. It won't help anything to worry about it, so don't worry about it."

She was surprised, but not that surprised, to find that, while they washed and rinsed each other off, he grew hard again. She eased down onto her knees.

"Wait," he tried to back away, "No, it'll go away on its own. You don't have to do that."

"No, I want to. I'm gonna make it right, so that, from now on, you'll be the one I think about when I do this, and everything will be okay."

She took him in her mouth, sucking on him, drawing him deeper, her tongue teasing the more sensitive places on his cock, and, for having just had an orgasm only five or six minutes before, he was there again in no time.

"Okay, I'm too close," he gasped, "Cindi, I'm too close!"

She only increased her pace, grabbing his hips and holding him in place when he tried to back out, and then he was spurting again, his seed spilling into her mouth. She eased him deeper, and began swallowing him until he was done. Only then did she ease him out, sucking any remaining traces of his spend along the way.

She let go of him, nodded, and declared, "Now it's right."

They finished their shower, got dressed, and went into the living room. Cindi found her half-empty can of soda and took a few drinks, and Andy simply stared down at the coffee table.

"From here, I guess we have to go back and be who we were..."

"Yes," she agreed, "But I think I'll be okay, now, thanks to you."

"No more giving up? Promise me."

"No more giving up," she smiled, and then grew serious, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, I trust you. Why do you ask?"

"Good, then I do have a favor to ask you. It's important."

"Yeah?"

"There's still a few months until you graduate. You will graduate, right?"

"Yeah. With my tutor in math, and you for Lit, I'll graduate."

"Good... but that's not my favor, just a question. Tomorrow, when you go to school, there's another wrong you need to make right. I think you know who I mean, don't you?"

Andy hesitated, and then nodded, "I know."

"Good. Make it right. It doesn't matter if there isn't a word in the English language that you think would undo what you did. Be her friend, even if the others laugh at you for it, actually, welcome it, because it might just go a long way toward making things right. But... make it clear that your heart belongs to someone else, if it becomes necessary to do so. I'm not ready to share you, not even with her. Then, when the school year ends, we can pick up where we've left off. Will you do that for me? Better yet, will you do this for yourself? Make it right."

Epilogue...

The halls were packed, and Andy weaved his way through them, searching. It was lunch period, and Andy was pretty hungry, but he could eat later. And... there she was, carrying a sack lunch, her head down, her light-brown hair dangling down over her face, as if she were trying to remain invisible to the other people. He followed her, bobbing and weaving around other students in order to keep up, and saw her duck into the band room. He hesitated, took a deep breath, and went in. She was headed further into the band room, until she reached the far corner, where she apparently intended on dining alone, far removed from the rest of the population. When she spied Andy, she froze, her eyes wide.

"Wait," he held up a hand as she started hurrying away, "Please?"

She froze again, her lunch clasped in both hands.

"I..." and his throat locked up.

'Shit,' he lamented, 'You've got to say it, even if it means completely nothing to her, you've got. To. Say. It!'

"Franny," there it was, a word, good, now more, "I know that you hate me... "

'Good, don't stop there, you better get a move on before she runs.'

"What I did to you... it was unforgiveable. It was wrong, and completely unfair to you."

She stood where she was, that look, fuck, not that look!

"Um..." he faltered, and then steeled himself, couldn't quit now, "And I don't blame you for hating me. I hate me, I wish I'd never done what I did, every bit of me wishes that."

Her eyes closed for a few seconds, and then she whispered, "I... I don't... hate you."

Andy shook his head, "You should. I had no right to do that to you, and you should hate me. You should loathe me, wish me dead, anything but that hurt look. I deserve worse than that look."

"I don't... hate you, Andy, I can't."

He grabbed a chair for her, one of the fifty or so plastic chairs in the band room, setting it beside her. She sat down in it while he grabbed another to place in front of her.

"Why not? Franny..."

"Until... you stuck up for me... I had nobody," she spoke so quietly that I had to lean in, "And then, for a little while... I had you..."

He sighed, "Franny, that was all set up. I wish it wasn't, I wish I'd been that nice guy who would stick up for you, because you deserve that, a nice guy you could talk to, and share your problems, someone who has a hug for you, someone you can count on. Shit, I'm so sorry. And then, to top it all off, that you'd feel so hopeless that you'd..."

Franny set her lunch down next to her, putting her hands in her lap, "I couldn't understand... why... not one person in this whole school liked me. I know I'm not much to look at, had a horrible stutter, couldn't get half of what I wanted to say to come out. But there had to be one person out there, someone who could see me... someone... but nobody did. I don't stutter anymore, and I've lost some weight, not much, but some..."

"I noticed that."

"Well... it was strange. When I woke up in the hospital... my stutter was gone, like it never happened. The weight... well, just eating better..."

Andy looked down at the floor, "That's why I wanted to talk to you, why I followed you in here. I know that it probably doesn't mean much... not after everything I did... but I'm sorry."

Franny shrugged, "It means more than you think. And, even if it was set up, that short time where I thought you were my friend... it was the happiest I'd felt in a long time."

Andy shook his head in wonder, "You really are an amazing girl, Franny. And... I know there's only a few months left of school... and you are graduating, right? Yeah, well... I'd like another chance to be your friend."

Franny frowned, wary, "Andy..."

"I know, I completely screwed it up last time, and you have no reason to trust me again... I'm not out to hurt you again, I couldn't live with myself if I did that. Maybe you can start by sitting with me in the lunchroom?"

She mulled it over for a few moments, and Andy was beginning to think she's refuse, when she nodded.

"I think I'd like that."

The End