Leah Pricewater

"Leah, I'm so sorry," I whispered. She looked at me shrewdly, and I knew she was also remembering that afternoon. Then her face softened.

"Don't beat yourself up, Charlie. At least you were willing to, you know...take care of me. That's more than I can say for any guy I've been with since. When they don't get what they want from me, they scurry on their ways." We both flushed.

"Leah," I said earnestly, "taking care of you is still, to this day, the hottest thing I've ever done. I never wanted it to end." She looked out the window.

"Leah?" I said, pulling her from her reverie. "Do you...do you hate me?" She turned to me, her eyes wide in shock.

"Hate you? Of course not, Charlie. If I hated you, I wouldn't be here. I...I'd be lying if I said you didn't hurt me, but I'm not one for long-standing grudges. I forgave you a long time ago."

"Really?" I asked, the relief showing on my face.

"Absolutely," she said, smiling warmly. "After all," she continued, blushing again, "you were my first kiss." In the face of this tender moment, I felt my dick growing as I recalled how much kissing we did on that afternoon. I decided to go for it.

"Then give me a chance, Leah, please. I'm not the same stupid kid I used to be. I'm a man who wants to be with you, who wants everyone to know that he's yours. Please. Give me a second chance." She smiled sadly. I was sure she was going to say no, say that she couldn't risk it, say that she'd seen me with Tiffany and assumed I was trying to make her a side piece again. Then...

"Okay." That was it. Just one word and she went back to her soup. That one word was all I needed. I actually laughed in surprise.

"Really? You mean it?" Reaching across the table, I put my hand on hers as she reached for her spoon. She looked up at me.

"I mean it. I've always liked you, Charlie, and, like I said, I'm not much for grudges. As long as we can take things slow, I mean it."

"Leah, we can take things as slow as you need to," I said, squeezing her hand. "I've got nothing but time for you. Let me show you how you deserve to be treated." She smiled, blushing again. I could get used to that blush, I thought to myself.

***

Before I knew it, three weeks had passed, and I was seeing Leah every day. The Sound of Music's run had ended, and she had begun working on the guild's next show, Oklahoma!. It was around the three-week mark that I realized I had to do something about Tiffany. Our relationship, such as it was, had been casual enough that there was nothing strange in me not seeing her for a week or so. Then I started coming up with excuses as to why we couldn't hook up. Leah and I hadn't made anything official, but I knew how she would feel if she found out I was seeing somebody else. Truth be told, I didn't like the thought of it myself. At heart, I think I'm a one-woman man, and Leah was more than enough woman for me. I was dating the girl of my dreams, and I had no desire to see anyone else. Thankfully, Tiffany, though she was disappointed, didn't make a big deal out of it. I was also grateful that she didn't press me about who I was seeing, as I didn't think my temper could take another "fat chick" comment from her.

Since I had started dating Leah, I was surprised by how few comments I got from the people around me about my taste in women. I realized fairly quickly that the fear for my reputation that had held me back in high school had likely been largely in my head. It made my heart hurt to realize how much I had missed out on, how much time I could have had with Leah, if I hadn't been so stupid. Still, I had her now, and I was not about to let my past dumbassery keep me from enjoying her.

True to my word, I didn't try to push Leah into anything, though by the time we hit a month, we were well and truly a couple. We hadn't talked about it, but everyone who knew either of us knew that we were an item. For my part, I was absolutely reveling in being Leah's boyfriend. I loved picking her up from rehearsal and taking her out for a meal. I loved going on long walks with her around campus, her small, soft hand in my larger, rougher one. I loved sitting on the couch with her in the student lounge, both of us buried in homework, her legs in my lap as she read. I loved kissing her for no reason—and, man, did I do a lot of that.

Again, as promised, I never tried to press my luck vis-à-vis the physical aspect of our relationship, but I certainly had no reason to complain. Leah was an amazing kisser, and her full, soft lips pressed against mine had started to feel like home. I found that, despite my previous fears, I had no qualms about kissing Leah literally anywhere, and I in fact found that I couldn't seem to keep my hands off her—regardless of the place. On more than one occasion we had gotten close to being caught in a compromising position. Perhaps most memorably, we once scared the crap out of a maintenance man who caught us pressed against his equipment shed at eleven o'clock at night, my lips on her neck and my hands in her shirt. I had pulled her behind there on one of our walks, and what had started as an innocent kiss or seven had quickly devolved into a panting, moaning make-out session. Another time, one of my roommates barged into my room asking if I wanted to go for a pizza when I had her on the verge of coming from my kisses on her neck (still one of my favorite discoveries). She couldn't stop the wave from crashing over her, but she took it like a champ, burying her face in my chest and not making a sound as my roommate, eyes wide, backed out of the room.

Therefore, I wasn't exactly surprised to find myself in the back of an empty lecture hall with Leah one Tuesday evening, kissing her passionately as her hands roamed over my body. I was, however, surprised when she stopped kissing me and stood up. I was even more surprised by the words that then graced her swollen lips:

"Charlie, do you want me?" Did I want her? What kind of question was that? Wordlessly, I pointed at my erection, which was straining against my pants.

"How can you even ask that? I can't keep my hands off you!" I reached for her, but she sidestepped me, wringing her hands and looking at the floor. She mumbled something indecipherable, and her cheeks flushed.

"I didn't catch that," I said, trying to keep the laughter out of my voice.

Looking up at me with a pained expression, she said, "Then why haven't you tried to have sex with me?"

I blinked. Then I blinked again. Not knowing what else to do, I shrugged and said, "You said you wanted to take things slow. I didn't want to push you, and I've got no reason to complain about our physical relationship. Trust me—you keep me very satisfied." I smiled warmly.

"That's—that's the only reason?" she asked, wrapping her arms around her ample stomach as though shielding it from attack. I quickly cottoned on to her concerns, and I rushed to reassure her.

"That's the only reason, sweetheart. It's not easy keeping myself from jumping on you every time I see you, and I clearly have enough trouble keeping my hands to myself. I just want to wait to make love to you until you're ready—I want it to be the right time for both of us." Had I said the right thing? I must have, because the next thing I knew my arms were full of beautiful woman and I had a soft, warm tongue in my mouth that wasn't mine. Sighing happily, I kissed her until she pulled away and looked up at me.

"I'm ready, Charlie. Now. Make love to me." Her voice was strained with longing, and, recovering quickly from my shock, I certainly didn't need to be asked twice.

Taking her hand, I said, "Come on."

I bent down to kiss her sweet, pink lips, and we walked out of the building and toward my apartment. Once we were in my room, I pressed my lips to hers, pushing her gently against the door. "Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?" I asked her as I nuzzled the base of her throat. She said nothing, responding with just a breathy moan in my ear. That was enough for me. I raised my head, looking down at her. Her hips were gently rolling against mine, and I could feel myself growing. I growled playfully at her, and she bit her bottom lip as she looked up at me. Putting my hands on her waist, I guided her until she was at the edge of my bed. I lay down on it, expecting her to join me. When she didn't, I looked up at her expectantly.

"There's not room for me," she said softly.

I grinned. "There's room right here," I said, sitting up slightly and patting my lap.

Leah looked down, her cheeks coloring. "I don't want to hurt you." I paused. A situation like this needed to be handled well, and I had a history of saying the wrong thing. On the other hand, there was nothing I wanted more in that moment than Leah Pricewater on top of me in all her voluptuous glory. Reaching out, I put my hands around her waist and pulled her onto the little twin bed, right on top of me—where she belonged. She let out a cry of surprise and attempted to wriggle away from me. I held fast.

"Charlie, let me go! I'll squash you!" she protested.

"Bullshit," I responded, pressing her to me more tightly. "If you're really worried about it, I guess..." And with that, I rolled her over so I was lying on top of her. "Oh, yes," I breathed, pressing a kiss to her lips. "Yes, I like this." She smiled shyly, and I dipped my head down to claim her mouth again. I moved my lips against hers slowly. I wanted to ravish her, take all of her in at once and revel in it like a greedy child. At the same time, I knew this was her first time, and, if I was being honest with myself, this was a first for me, too. This was the first time I had looked forward to sex, really been excited about it, since my own first time. This would be the first time I had ever well and truly made love. We had all night, and I decided to take it slow.

Gently, I poked my tongue out and ran it across the seam of her lips. Moaning gently, she parted her lips slightly and took my tongue into her mouth, sucking on it just as she had that day in the dressing room. Just like that day, the sensation went straight to my cock. Sighing happily, I pulled her tighter to my chest and let her go to town on my tongue as I let one of my hands wander down to her hip. This is what I always thought a woman would feel like, I thought to myself as I kneaded her flesh. I truly believe that beauty comes in all shapes and sizes, but for me, nothing beats the fullness of a Rubenesque woman, and I was finally—finally—openly admitting that to myself and to the world. I had denied myself this pleasure for so long, being with women who didn't excite me, all out of fear of what others would think. Now that I had the woman of my dreams underneath me, I was going to experience everything she had to offer. In that moment, I realized something important. Pulling my mouth from hers reluctantly, I looked down at Leah tenderly. Her eyes were slumberous, her lips slightly swollen, and she was gazing up at me with a satisfied smile.

"Leah," I said. "I...I...I, er..." I froze. I couldn't get the words out. What if she didn't feel the same way? She was looking up at me expectantly. "I, uhm...I..."

"I uhm you, too," she said softly. Then, laughing slightly, she reached up and took my mouth again. And just like that we were at each other, making out like a couple of teenagers on a broken-down sofa in a high school theater dressing room. I was playing with the hem of her shirt, sweeping my hands under it gently, trying hard not to plunge them in and reach for her bra. Slowly, gently, I moved my hands up under her shirt until I met flesh—soft, velvety, warm flesh. Groaning, I softly pressed my fingers into her sides, reveling in the feeling of her skin on mine. I swept my fingers up until I almost met her breasts, then I swept them back down. Up and down, up and down I moved my hands, each time getting closer to her breasts. I could tell Leah was getting antsy. Her hips were rocking against mine, and her breathing had quickened to a pant as we kissed. Pulling my lips from hers, I buried my face in her chest as my hands finally moved up to claim their prize, and—

—and she wasn't wearing a bra. Looking up at her, I said the only thing going through my mind: "You just keep getting hotter and hotter, sweetheart." And I crushed my lips to hers. Softly, I reached my hands up under her shirt to finally meet her breasts. They were even better than I had imagined them. Warm, soft, full, and tender, their weight pulled them down on her chest, lower than I was used to. I had to see them.

Stroking her breasts gently, I looked down at the beautiful girl before me. "Leah, baby, please—can I take your shirt off?" She nodded shyly, and soon I had her topless beneath me. Life was good.

I gazed down at her breasts and sucked in a slow breath. They were magnificent. Large, pliant, and soft, with a rounded, ever so slightly oval shape, they spread across her chest easily, creating what I hoped would at some point be a pillow for my willing head. She had the tiniest nipples I had ever seen, miniature pink rosebuds surrounded by large but only faintly colored areolas. Bending down, I took one of her nipples in my mouth and instinctively began to suckle. Leah gasped and gently placed her hand on my head. I moaned around her nipple, bringing a hand up to massage her other breast as I continued to nurse at her. Her fingers had started playing in my hair, gently combing it back in a steady, soothing motion as her breathing grew ragged, occasionally forming a moan or a squeak. I fed from her breast for long moments as she petted me, and it occurred to me that I could do this for hours—for years—and never feel like I'd had enough. Gazing up at her, I let the nipple gently fall out of my mouth before I reached for the other one and began suckling again. Our eyes were locked now, and my mind was hazy. Vaguely, I wondered what it would feel like to truly nurse from her, to have her produce milk for me. Suddenly, I was flooded with an image of her already soft, rounded tummy swollen with my child, her breasts engorged and leaking milk, and my erection surged.

Leah felt me growing and reached her free hand down to gently stroke me through my trousers. I grunted happily and continued to suckle her breast. I was only marginally aware of Leah's small, soft hand undoing my pants and slipping inside, past my boxers. Lost in her breasts, I only came to when she wrapped her hand around my cock and began sliding it up and down. Groaning loudly but incoherently, my mouth full of tit, I closed my eyes and nodded, letting my head drop onto her chest as I fed from her.

Gently at first, then with more vigor and intention, Leah stroked my cock slowly then quickly, slowly then quickly. When she reached my head, she gently twisted her fist around it several times, and I had to keep myself from biting down on her nipple. Soon she had a rhythm. Slow strokes, slow strokes, quick strokes, twists around the head, then back to slow strokes. Her soft hand was like a vise on my cock, and I realized I wouldn't last long. I was in heaven, and my suckling practically doubled in intensity as I neared my release. Reaching up a free hand, I cupped her neck and stroked her jaw, attempting to convey my appreciation for what she was doing to me but unwilling to take her breast out of my mouth. Too soon, I felt the point of no return approaching, and I grabbed Leah's neck tightly as my orgasm coursed through me. I was grinding into her hand and moaning loudly around her tit. I rode the wave of my come with my eyes closed and Leah's nipple in my mouth until I was only gently humping at her hand and my breathing had begun to return to a normal rate.

Reluctantly, I removed my mouth from her nipple and looked up at her. Her eyes were blazing down at me, a look of pure lust on her face. I grabbed her head and crushed her mouth to mine, moaning against her lips as I sucked her tongue into my mouth. We kissed heatedly, and I let my hands roam wherever they wanted to: across her breasts, down to her soft, waiting stomach, finally to her rounded, voluminous hips. Wrenching our lips apart, I rested my forehead against hers before speaking.

"Pants, baby, Leah, pants—off—now." I was incoherent, still feeling the effects of my orgasm, and I wanted my girlfriend naked underneath me. Standing up, I disrobed in record time, my already-re-hardening penis bobbing in front of me. I reached for Leah's waist, intending to do away with her leggings, but she was a step ahead of me. She had already wiggled out of them and was standing before me in her panties. Leah's panties were clearly designed for function over form. Made of simple black cotton with a satin waistband, they sat just below her bellybutton and covered her mound and most of her ass. They were a far cry from granny panties, but they also weren't the neon thongs I was used to. Still, on her, they worked, accentuating her curves and adding a touch of innocence and modesty that I found adorable. I could feel my erection grow.

Stepping over to her, I reached around to her ample backside, pressing my body against hers, and cupped her thick, delicious ass. Burying my face in her long, sweet-smelling hair, I kissed the shell of her ear and nibbled her earlobe. She sighed happily as I gently pushed her back down on the bed, draping my body over hers. We kissed for long, lazy moments, my hands wandering over every bit of exposed skin I could find. Eventually, I began kissing her with more intention, moving lower down her body. I kissed the base of her throat, then the tops of her breasts, then each tiny little bud of a nipple before moving to her stomach. Leah's stomach, like the rest of her, was a fucking work of art. The swell of it rounded out starting several inches below her breasts, spreading generously into her pendulum hips. I buried my face in her soft, fleshy tummy, licking her bellybutton and making her cry out in laughter before moving to the waistband of her panties. Grabbing them in my teeth, I began to pull them down.

Slowly, her pussy came into view, and once I had her panties off I lay myself between her legs and just looked at it. I admit that I had never taken the time to just sit and stare at a woman's pussy before, and if they all looked like Leah's then I had been missing out. The first thing I noticed was that she had a full bush. I'd always wanted to be with a woman with a bush before, but every one of my previous partners had been shaved bare. The hair was dark, darker even than the hair on her head, and it was curly and tufty. Reaching out, I found that it was softer than I had expected, and I wanted to bury my face in it. All in good time.

The second thing I noticed was her scent. I realized that this was the first time I had been with a woman who didn't smell like perfume down there. Leah's scent was just her: earthy, sweet, tangy, and just plain womanly. I inhaled deeply, and my desire to eat her grew stronger. Reaching out again, I ran my finger up the line of her thick, soft pussy lips from her opening to the apex of her mound. She sighed again, and my desire grew. Using both hands, I gently separated her outer lips, and I was gratified to find several strings of wetness breaking as I pulled her lips apart. She was soaked. Placing a finger at her opening, I once again slid it up, through her lips, until I reached the impossibly tiny nub that was her clitoris. She moaned, low and slow, and I decided it was time. Bending down, I pressed my lips to her clit.

Her breath hitched.

"Charlie..." she breathed hesitantly. She sat up a little bit. "Charlie, you don't have to do this." She was flushed, her bosom and cheeks a matching shade of dusty rose. I smiled.