Love Lessons

Claire tasted his salty sweetness, the underlying meatiness of him, the sticky remnants of his earlier orgasm. God, how she loved sucking cock; having a variety of partners had made her really good at it. It wasn't for nothing the football club called her the blowjob queen. Giving this much pleasure got her off, that was the truth of it, and without the risk of her getting pregnant or making a mess. The boys were happy enough. Her mouth full of Simon, she reached between her own legs. The soreness of his pummelling had abated, and her clit was begging to be touched again.

"Oh God, Claire, that feels so good," Simon moaned. "You're gonna make me cum."

"Uh-huh," she said, frantically flicking her clit, racing him. She knew how close he was - she could taste it, could feel his balls starting to constrict.

"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna go off in your mouth!" he said, in a panic. That just made her suck all the harder, pushing him into the back of her throat, down past her tonsils. He watched her eyes bug out, her nostrils flare when she rose back off him slightly to breathe. He couldn't look away from those eyes. He couldn't stop it now, even if he wanted to. "Fuck, Claire, I love you!" he screamed, as he exploded into her mouth.

Claire felt his cock pulsing, received his essence gratefully across her tongue. She swallowed, and swallowed again. God, how much can he come second time around, she wondered? She raised back up to the tip of his cock, letting him see her take it, his dick twitching between her lips, and swallowed him down, licking underneath his sensitive spot and encouraging his balls to give her his all. She sucked over the end, let his moist dick fall from her lips, free to drizzle the dregs over her breasts.

It's not love, she told herself. It's lust. He lusts after you, like they all do. He's a virgin, technically still at least; what does he know about love? Heh, even I don't know what love is; how can he?

CHAPTER FOUR

The train rattled and rumbled through the suburbs. They sat opposite each other, sharing a disappointing railway sandwich and a lukewarm tasteless tea. But it didn't matter, Simon thought, because he was on his way to Comic-Con with his girlfriend. On a date.

Girlfriend. Date. Oh, how sweet those words sounded.

Not that she'd said that's what she was, how she saw their relationship, he admitted. But surely, given what they'd done together, they must be boyfriend and girlfriend by now? And after all, she'd asked him along to the convention. She'd even got him the Spider-Man outfit that she'd insisted he change into for the day.

She wants to be with me, and not just for revision. She likes me! It was like a dream. And she wasn't a goddess. Well, she was, but she was a person too, with feelings and doubts (unlikely though that seemed) and fears and dreams. He didn't know why he'd been so scared of her.

Claire smiled. Finally, she had a friend with whom she could share her favourite things, without worrying about what he thought of her. To him, she was a real person - not a piece of ass, not a trophy girlfriend, not a fellow bitch. It was liberating. And he was good company, and not actually that bad looking now she was giving him tips on how to dress and fix his hair. For a nerd, he had a rocking body, too.

Once he'd revealed that he'd always wanted to go to a convention one day, she simply had to get him another ticket (and fuck me, how those scalper websites gouged you) and ask him along. But they both had to go incognito; Iron Girl's reputation was at stake, so Simon would have to wear a similarly anonymous costume so she couldn't be identified through him. Spidey was the obvious choice and wouldn't stand out amongst the hundreds of other webslingers that would be there.

Even if there had been hundreds of Iron Girls present, Simon would have had no trouble picking Claire out of the crowd; instinctively he knew her body - the curve of her ass, the fullness of her boobs, the pinch of her waist. He stepped towards her, and she gravitated towards him. Despite having seen her naked, he still struggled to tear his eyes away from the crystal spyhole into her cleavage.

They worked the convention, picking up trinkets, having their photos taken by other members of the public, mixing with the great and the good. Usually, Claire would enter the cosplay competitions, anonymously, but today she wanted to spend the time with her friend - showing him around, introducing him to the low-tier celebrities she knew.

Simon watched her body language as she moved around; normally with a cat-like grace, but she would tremble with excitement when meeting somebody particularly special. She was practically bouncing with joy as they queued for Brie Larson's autograph, and then Gal Gadot's. It made him so happy to see her so happy.

All too soon the convention was closing. Sadly, reluctantly, they made their way towards the exits. They made it to the train station in plenty of time to catch the last train home.

Or would have. A fatality on the line meant that all services had been cancelled until further notice.

"Fuck," Claire expressed succinctly. "What the hell do we do now?" The convention was hundreds of miles from home, and they would be stuck in this town until the next day at best.

"I suppose we'll have to find a hotel or something," Simon muttered. Money wouldn't be an issue, he thought - not with Claire's family background - but availability was a whole different problem. People would have come from across the country to this event, and everything was surely booked out months ago.

They walked the streets, and true enough, hotel after hotel was full due to the convention. The sun was starting to go down; a chill started to creep into the air. The skin-tight Lycra costumes were somewhat unforgiving.

"Okay, look, let me try something," Claire said, after they struck out for the umpteenth time. "Stay outside at the next place, let me talk to them on my own."

Simon shrugged but let her do her thing. She was inside for ten minutes or more, but when she reappeared it was with a big grin. "Got one. It's not much, but it's something."

"How did you manage that?"

"Played the little-girl-lost card. I'm all alone in a strange city, I'm worried about what might happen to me out on the streets alone. That kind of thing. The duty manager was a woman, she looked at my costume, understood, and made a room available."

"Thank god Iron Girl only uses her powers for good, otherwise watch out world!"

They had a few drinks, probably a few too many truth be told, in a local bar. Then, giggling, they made their way through the hotel to the room Claire had managed to snaffle.

It was very much a last-chicken-in-the-shop sort of room. A single bed, a chair, and a dingy bathroom. A room used by staff on a late shift, not meant for guests.

To Simon's mind, there was no question of what the sleeping arrangements should be. "I'll take the chair," he insisted, grabbing a couple of towels and a spare sheet from the wardrobe to wrap around himself.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive", he said. It was the chivalrous thing to do.

It was late, they were tired. They agreed to turn in for the night.

"Um, Simon?"

"Yeah?"

"I, um, well I've not got any nightwear with me."

"Nor have I. I'll just sleep in my pants, it'll be fine."

"Yeah, well, about that. You know how tight this outfit is, right?"

"I am aware." He'd spent most of the day trying to tear his eyes away from her ass.

"So, you must realise I'm totally nude inside it. I can't possibly wear anything underneath; it would ruin the effect. So, I'm gonna be naked in a moment, and I'm gonna have to stay that way all night. I just don't want you to freak out." Not again.

"Thanks for the warning, but I think I'll be okay. I haven't exploded since the last time I saw you with no clothes on." Not unless you count the mini explosions I have every night when I think back to it, he thought to himself.

"Okay," she said, peeling the Lycra from her body. "Hey, turn round, stop staring!"

"Sorry," he said surprised. He closed his eyes. He didn't see how it mattered; her body had basically been on show all day, and she'd taken great pride in revealing herself to him last time. Was she regretting that, now? Didn't she fancy him any longer? Simon didn't understand what he'd done wrong. But he waited until he heard the duvet rustling before opening his eyes again. The light was out; he could only see shadows of her prone form under the sheets.

"Goodnight, Claire," he said.

"Goodnight, Simon. See you tomorrow."

He sat in the chair, trying to will himself to sleep, but it was just too difficult. The room was cold and getting colder; the towels and sheets completely ineffective against the draught blowing through the cheap lousy room. And he was extremely conscious of there being a gorgeous naked girl lying within arm's reach of where he sat. He shuffled, trying but failing to find a comfortable position.

Claire lay in the bed, waiting. Any other guy she knew would already be beside her, if not inside her; poking her ass with their cock, feeling up her tits. She was grateful Simon wasn't like that, and yet at the same time she was a little frustrated, insulted even. How dare he be so gentlemanly when she'd spent the day prancing and flexing in that bodysuit, right next to him. Reminding him that she was about to get naked, planting that thought in his head. Teasing him when he snuck a peek. She had to admit she was impressed with his self-control, but that kind of restraint was doing nothing for her libido.

Simon jumped as he felt Claire's hands reach out to stroke his arm. Her touch was so warm.

"Jesus, you're freezing!" she exclaimed. "Come here, get under the duvet," she begged, impressed with herself that she managed to make it sound like a humanitarian gesture rather than the call of a horny teenager.

"I'm okay, there's not enough room, you take it," he insisted.

"That's bollocks and you know it. Snuggle up beside me, we can both fit. It's not like you've not touched me before."

No, he admitted. But this is different. This is all night, our bodies pressed against each other. I have more chance of sleeping sitting over here.

But Claire insisted, pulling him from the chair. He relented, slipped under the duvet behind her, enveloped by the warmth. He spooned in behind her, trying to avoid touching her - partly because he was so cold and didn't want to shock her, but mostly because he didn't want to push his rock-hard cock against her ass. It felt rude, and presumptuous; he couldn't take the risk that she'd assume he was trying to molest her, when his hardness was just a natural reaction he couldn't control and that wasn't his intention at all. He could restrain himself, but there was nothing he could do to quell the hard-on, no matter what he tried. It didn't mean he was expecting anything.

Things only got worse when she reached behind, found his free arm, and drew it around herself, laying his hand against her taut stomach, his arm laying in the valley of her waist. He was very conscious that the slightest movement of his hand would cause him to touch her in what might be considered an inappropriate way - a fraction up and he'd be fondling her boob, down and it would slip between her legs. He daren't move. He knew that if he felt that soft flesh, he wouldn't be able to control himself.

Claire lay there, frustrated. For fuck's sake, Simon, what's it going to take for you to make a move? She started to wriggle, rub her ass backwards against his cock which she was delighted to find was at full attention, and shrugged her arms to force his hand up towards her tits. Eventually, his cold thumb made contact with her round firm chest; she shivered - from the cold, from the excitement - as she felt his hand almost involuntarily curl around the curve of her breast.

"Mmmm," she purred, forcing her ass right into his groin, pressing her body against his chest and legs.

"Oh, Claire," he breathed, hands full of her body. "I'm sorry, but I want you, so bad."

At fucking last, she thought. "Then stop wasting time apologising and take me!" She rolled onto her back, and he lowered his hand, pushing between her legs, finding her wet and ready.

He remembered what she'd taught him; how to work her, what rhythm to use and how much pressure she liked. It took no time at all before she was begging him. "Fuck me, Simon, please fuck me!"

"Have you got any, you know, things?" He couldn't bring himself to say condoms. Somehow it was a dirtier word than 'fuck'.

"Did you see any pockets in my Iron Girl suit? Get real, of course I haven't. But don't worry about it. I'll sort it tomorrow. Please, Simon, I'm begging you. Make love to me. I've waited forever!"

"I don't think I'll last very long," he admitted.

"I don't care. I'm so ready. When you come, you'll take me with you. Now bury your amazing cock in me before you set yourself off talking about it!"

He knelt between her spread legs, taking in the beauty before him. Her thighs and pussy glistened in the half-light of the window, lit by the neon signs of the city. Her sculpted abs rose to her bounteous chest, nipples erect and waiting. And to her face, that beautiful, freckled face, eyes sparkling as they watched him tower over her. He shuffled, aligning himself at her entrance, still not quite believing what was about to happen. Just touching his tip lightly against her lips caused a sensation like an electric shock to flow through him. Her pussy lips, like her mouth had, wrapped across and around his exposed cock head, and he was filled with that same sense of warmth. But unlike her mouth, her pussy clung to him, resisting and enveloping his hardness as he slipped inside. He felt dizzy, fell forward onto his arms. "Fuuuuuck," he breathed, the first time he'd ever sworn out loud, and had to stop moving or he would have cum right there and then. He looked down, his dick disappearing into her, two become one, her pulse strong against his veined member.

Claire tried not to say anything, knowing that if she turned him on any further it would all be over. But she couldn't help but let out a soft moan as he stretched her open, couldn't stop her muscles rippling as he slid deeper and deeper inside her. He was gentle, in a way nobody had been with her before, and yet insistent. She watched his face, the wonder dancing across his features, as she took his most precious gift. This is so fucking hot, she thought. I'm making him feel that, making him lose himself in the sensation of being inside me. I'm his first. He'll never forget this moment, and I'll be the one he compares every future girl to. What a gift. What a turn-on. And she felt that familiar wave building, low inside her. No, surely not already, she thought...

Simon could only feel. All there was in the world was his dick and her pussy. And her face, her mouth wide, her expression egging him on. He slid, in and out, back and forth, at the slowest pace he could restrain himself to go. Utterly exquisite pleasure, his whole cock embedded in her warmth, finally at home where it belonged. The ache in his arms from holding the press-up position was easily ignored. Only a short while longer, he knew.

He felt her quiver, flicked his eyes up from the tits he'd been staring at to gaze at her face once more. "Go on, do whatever you need," she said; his hips responded before his brain processed the message, starting to force him faster and deeper inside, as if possessed.

She knew it was all but over. The crest of the wave hung over her. Just one tiny nudge, she knew, and it would crash over her, washing her away... desperately she held back, wanting to go over the edge with him.

"I'm gonna..." he said, and his cock twitched, and that was it; the pleasure crashed through her.

Simon knew he couldn't control it anymore; and just as he was preparing himself, he felt her clench around him, watched her eyes as the orgasm took her by surprise, and that set him straight off. "Yaaarrr uuuuuuughhhhhhhh!" he cried as he spilled into her.

"Oh god, yes, come for me, come in me," Claire pleaded, her legs shaking as she wrapped them round his back, pulling him deep inside her as they came together.

///

Simon jerked awake. He was lying on his back in a strange room, daylight knocking on his eyelids. His side felt warm; he realised that Claire was there, her body pressed against him. And he realised he was naked, as was she. He never slept naked. But here he was, crammed into this single bed with a beautiful girl draped over him. One full firm breast rested on his chest, the other pressing into his side; a soft thigh spanned over his, her foot teasing his lower leg. And her hand... her hand was softly, deftly caressing his morning glory.

"Hey," she said, raising her head to give him a warm, wet kiss.

"Hi gorgeous," he managed.

"I'm glad you're awake," she said. "I couldn't wait any longer. It would be rude to waste this," she said, kissing her way down his chest and enveloping his huge boner in her mouth. Simon's eyes rolled back as she teased at his dick, her tongue stroking the shaft as her lips worked over the sensitive tip. He groaned, stroked her hair; she looked him in the eye as she slid her head down, down, down, taking him into her throat, her lips bottoming out against his balls. She swallowed, and he felt her throat constrict around him.

"Oh god, don't, you'll make me cum," he begged.

Her eyes smiled, and she slid back off him. "And what's wrong with that?"

"I don't want to cum in your mouth," he said.

"Liar!" She sucked him a little more, and he shivered. She was quite right. He did want to fill her eager mouth with his semen. But not as much as the other things he wanted. She stopped teasing his dick and knelt up over his legs. "But I'm glad, 'cos I wanted to do this," she said, positioning herself over him and sliding him inside her as she lowered her hips towards his.

Slowly she rode him, taking him inch by teasing inch deeper inside. He watched, transfixed, as she rose and fell, her boobs swinging with the motion, her eyes on his the whole time. She rocked and rotated her pelvis as she moved, dancing on him.

Claire looked down at her new lover. Why had she wasted all that time teasing him, listening to her friends, joining in the bullying? In many ways, Simon was so like her. If only she'd been mature enough to accept him for who he was, then they could have been making love like this for months. She was determined to make up for that lost time. She gave him a show, massaging her tits, running her nails across his chest, leaning back and stroking her clit while his dick was buried completely inside her.

"Oh god Claire, you're gonna bring me off again," Simon warned.

"You bet your ass," she replied, not unkindly, and redoubled her efforts. Her reward was that look in his half-closed eyes as he exploded into her once more, his hot semen flooding inside, his breathing ragged and his hands flitting across her and the bed, unsure what to do.

"I don't deserve you," he said, once he could speak again. "You're so hot, so gorgeous, you could have anyone. Why me?"

She put her finger to his lips. "Hush. Why all the self-doubt? You are worthy," she said, in her best Thor voice. Then she leant down, covering his chest with her naked body, and kissed him, feeling his cock slowly softening inside her.

CHAPTER FIVE

The exams that had seemed so far away when they'd started revising together after their mocks were now upon them. Claire was grateful for Simon's company, his calming influence, his reassurance. "Don't worry, you've got this," he convinced her. He's so good for me, she realised. But she was totally unprepared when he asked to take her to the leaver's prom.