Lucky Strike

"Will, it's...I...I mean..." She paused, and when she started again, there was a definitely smile in her voice. "You're bigger than I expected."

He had never felt so intensely proud of his endowment. How wonderful to have that extra inch or two to please her with--to give her more than she had had before. "I promise not to hurt you, my Darling, my Own, my Heart, my Love..." The words kept coming out unbidden, all he could think about was the caress of those gentle fingers against his skin. He groaned. He was not going to be able to go as slowly as he would have liked after all.

Reluctantly, he pushed her hand away, then pressed her shoulders to the ground. Still murmuring meaningless nonsense, he raised himself over her, wiggling his hips to mover her thighs farther apart. All those years of dreaming suddenly overwhelmed him. It was really going to happen! The strength went out of his arms, and he lay full length up her, his face buried against her breasts, unbidden tears mingling with the rain and salt of her skin.

He could hear her heart again, and her own shuddering sigh which told him she was as moved as he by the moment. Her arms were around him, and she was gently urging his body against hers, murmuring pet names, shushing him and telling him it would be alright. He needed her. He needed this wonderful woman to be part of him. The urge to mate overwhelmed him in its most basic form--not for pleasure but for the need to join with another body and make a single being of two incomplete halves.

A primitive animal noise emerged from his throat, and he raised himself onto his elbows, pressing against her. She gasped as the head of his cock found her entrance. His higher self would have loved to prolong this moment indefinitely, but it was no match for millions of years of instinct and biological compulsion.

With a single trust, he buried himself inside her. The cry that tore from her throat was half pain--he was big, and it had been some time since her last encounter--and half pure satisfaction at being filled. He paused there, conflicted, wanting to leave reason behind and let nature take its course, but knowing this was a moment that would never come again, and would be over too quickly in any case. He was dimly aware of fingernails pressing into his back, but felt no pain.

A thought surfaced in his conscious mind. "Are you OK?" he managed. She nodded, incapable of speech, but when he moved his hips slightly she winced. In another flash of light he could see her eyes were streaming with tears and his conscious mind took control. "I've hurt you," he murmured, trying clumsily to wipe her cheeks. "I'm so sorry... I didn't think..."

"No," she croaked at last. "I just wanted to badly for you to be my first, and now I have nothing special to offer you. I'm sorry." Her fingernails still dug into his back, and when he moved slightly again, they dug deeper and she gasped. It was strange to him to feel that he did not wish to hurt her, yet enjoyed it a little at the same time.

"My Angeline. My Angel. I am your first, and you are mine. What has there been before that could ever compare to this moment? Nothing." He continues to smooth the hot drops from her cheeks, kissing her softly and murmuring reassurances in her ear.

He moved again in question and she answered in kind, raising her knees to accept him more fully inside her. Slowly, he began to move. At first you used short, gentle strokes. He could tell the pain was receding as she began to respond more eagerly, her hands sliding along his back to squeeze his buttocks. She pressed him into her fully, and he held still as she squirmed against him, teacher her body how it felt to be filled completely.

But at last, he could hold still no longer. He moved again, this time taking longer strokes, being a little more rough. She didn't seem to mind. She arched her back, and met each thrust with one of her own. Their bodies slid over one another, slick with rain and sweat. The storm seemed to be taking its cues from them, and lightning flashed closer at hand. The thunder seemed almost constant. She strained against him, and he was nearly crushing her into the earth, each trying to meld with the other completely.

From the sounds she made, especially those wonderful little, sharp cries, he could tell it would take little to push her over the edge. With an effort, he pulled himself free of the warm confines of her body, then he ran the length of his hard, wet cock against her clit. He was rewarded with more sharp cries, including his own name and a few pleading words, and decided to try it again. Her begging took on a higher pitch, and he knew she was as close as she had been when his tongue had been buried inside her.

"Tell me what to do," he whispered.

"I need...I need you inside me! Fuck me hard! You won't hurt me, please!" The urgency in her voice was beyond anything he had heard from her thus far. He once again pressed the head of his cock between the slick lips of her almost painfully swollen pussy. A continuous, high-pitched noise was escaping her throat.

He gave in to his primitive self, trusting hard and with abandon, taking his own pleasure now rather than serving hers. Two hard strokes later, she screamed, bucking against him as her nails raked his back. He could feel the muscles deep in her pussy constrict around him. He didn't think he'd ever been so hard, or felt such a pleasurable sensation before.

Another two strokes and his own body convulsed. He was pressing into her as deeply as he could, willing them to merge, as his cum poured out, filling her to overflowing. There was a flash of bright light, and a sound that he thought might be his brain exploding with pure sensation. He joyfully gave her half a dozen more rough strokes as they continued to jerk and shudder together.

The sensation ebbed and they came to themselves, lying spent and half senseless on the wet grass, his body collapsed across hers, and the mingles sweat and rain glistening in the light of...what?

Dimly, he became aware of a source of light, somewhere off to his left. After a few seconds, he found the energy to turn his head, and saw that a tree ten yards away was in flames. "Oh, good," he muttered. "I guess it wasn't my brain exploding after all."

Her hand came to rest on his head, stroking the damp hair back from his temples. "What's that, Sweetie?" she asked. She slowly opened her own eyes and saw for herself. Her eyes closed again.

Neither wanted to say what they were both thinking, but at last he sighed. "We'd better move before the fire department gets here." He raised himself up on his arms. He felt shaky all over, like he had no further energy to expend, but he thought he might be able to stand. He pulled free of her body with some regret. Their first time was over, but he would carry the memory of it for the rest of his life.

They half dressed, and stumbled back towards the house. As they reached the door, they heard sirens in the distance. Daylight was still a couple hours away, but the storm was receding quickly, and a tinge of light showed along the easter horizon. They discarded their clothes again, spent a few happy, sleepy kisses under a warm shower, helped one another towel dry, then stumbled to Will's bedroom.

They made love once more, slowly and lazily, as light began to spread across the sky. Then they slept, as the last echoes of thunder faded from the sky.

*****

The next afternoon, Angeline was the first to wake. She put on Will's long coat and buttoned it up, then sneaked downstairs and out the door. Once in the park, she found the spot quickly. The blackened crown of the tree was unmistakable. There was a patch where the grass was flattened, but if you didn't know to look for you, you'd never have noticed. She picked up a charred twig and smiled as she put it in her pocket.

A pity they'd never be able to tell the grandkids about the fireworks on their first 4th of July together...