Joanna

She stood over me at the edge of the bed, looking silently for what felt like forever but couldn't have been more than thirty seconds.

"You're beautiful Gil," she said simply, causing me to instantly blush. She paused. "This is your first time."

It was more statement than question, but I thought it required a response. After two futile attempts to get the word out, I just nodded.

Her smile could have shamed the sun. "Good, then I'll own you forever, beautiful boy."

I didn't see her move. I didn't feel her weight on the bed. It was as if a succubus, not Joanna, had suddenly climbed on the bed and sank down on my surprised erection. But when my vision came into focus, it was Joanna on top of me, blue panties shoved rudely to the side, her teeth biting her lower lip until I thought blood would flow.

I looked up at her and knew I had to last. I knew I would last. I knew it for about eight seconds, when she ran her nails over my ribs and squeezed me with her inner muscles and I exploded deep within her.

I spilled and shook for at least a minute, until I felt it overflow her channel and seeped back onto me. It was quite clear I wanted to hide, but she would have none of it.

"Thank you for the gift of you, Gil," she told me.

"But it was too soon," I protested. "I wanted you to –"

"Gil," she said with a soft smile, "What makes you think we're stopping?"

She squeezed me again, repeatedly, until I was as hard as before, and I realized she was correct. We didn't have to stop. Not at all.

* * *

Later, chest swollen with the pride of giving her an orgasm – two, actually – and having had taken her anally on my first day of sex, we lie naked and entwined. I revealed to her the stifling boredom of my life at home and the loneliness of my existence at school. She listened, then pointed out that things are only as boring as a person makes them.

"I know some people that can be enthralled watching a flower grow, and I know others that could be bored seeing the earth from the window of a space capsule. It's you, not your surroundings that matter. As for being lonely, I bet you haven't initiated a conversation with one single person the whole time you've been there, have you?"

I thought about it and admitted I hadn't.

"Gil, if you don't let yourself experience life, then all that writing in your little book will amount to nothing more than wasted fantasies, not the breathtaking stories that I know you can write. You have a gift, but that talent is not absolute. You have to augment it with experience if you want to ever create something worthwhile."

I knew she was right, but I also knew that my mind was elsewhere. I let my fingers trail over the damp juncture between her thighs, then slipped a finger gently inside and stirred slowly.

"I think I'm ready for a new experience."

This is the first part of a rather lengthy story. Just how lengthy depends on your feedback and suggestions. And please, remember to vote. After all, this is an election year.