May's 18th Birthday

"We'll do it whenever you want."

She enjoys his massage for a while. She can feel him taking his time on her thighs and hips. Knowing that he enjoys touching her, feeling his thumbs and fingers repeatedly get so close to her vagina, so close, knowing that he's teasing her, she feels the wetness building up.

She needs to distract herself or she'll seize him. She remembers one more question that she wanted to ask... but didn't have the nerve...

"Can I ask one more thing?"

"You can ask as many things as you want."

"What was your first time like?"

"Somehow I knew you would ask that."

"Really?"

"Yeah. But I wasn't going to tell you about it if you didn't ask because it definitely wasn't an experience you'd want to have."

"Why not?"

"We just didn't know what we were doing. We actually had to try several times. We did things, but it took us a few tries before we had reasonably good sex. We were in love and we were having fun, so we didn't take it too seriously, and when we figured it out, and started to get good at it, we were really proud of ourselves. But the first time, I'm afraid, it hurt her more than was necessary. We didn't know about things like lube, which would've made a big difference."

"Was there blood?"

"Yes. Actually she bled quite a bit. Most girls don't bleed as much as she did."

"What if I bleed that much?"

"As long as it doesn't hurt, it's fine."

"What about your sheets?"

"It'll wash out. They're dark red for a reason."

"Can we wash it ourselves so your staff won't see it?"

"Of course."

"I know that they'll know, but...."

"No, it's a private thing. They don't need to know anything that they don't need to know."

"You must've been so gentle with her. She was so lucky."

"Well, I was luckier than she was. And we were so in love. You and I, May, we will probably be way more in love after we've had sex a few times than we are right now."

"Really? I don't think I can be more in love."

"That's how I feel too, but we'll see. But the thing Amy and I got right our first time was that we were just having fun. There was no idea of performance or comparison to other people. We were just finding out what our bodies could do for each other, what we liked, and how to please each other. It just feels so good to please someone you love that much, or to let them please you."

"That's how I want it to be, Raoul. I really want to please you."

"You do please me, May. Already tonight you've pleased me more than I can say. This has been a really wonderful, romantic, sweet, and sexy evening."

"Yeah, it really has."

"But don't forget that I want to please you too. Sex is not just something you do for me."

"I know, and that's nice of you. But for me, it kind of is something I do for you. I want it to be that way. I can't be pleased unless you are."

"Okay, I understand. I'll make sure you know how to please me, and you make sure I know how to please you too."

He's moving up her front faster than he'd moved down and up her back. He's already close to her breasts. She can feel his excitement in his hands, hear it in the tension of his voice.

She feels, for some reason, that as soon as his hands are on her breasts, he's going to demand sex. Maybe she even hopes that, but for some reason she has to put it off a while if she can.

"Why does the lube make such a difference?"

"Well, sex with lube is almost always better than sex without lube, even when a woman has had sex a lot and gets really wet. But when it's your first time, it helps so much no matter how wet you get."

"I think I get pretty wet," she says, thinking he'd like to hear that. Maybe he's already noticed.

"Maybe so, but I'm pretty big too, and it definitely will feel better for you with lube."

"Will it feel better for you too?"

"Oh yeah, definitely."

"Wouldn't you rather feel my... feel me... I mean my vagina, wouldn't you rather feel it naturally?"

"Yes, but I'll actually feel it even better with lube. It doesn't change how your vagina feels to me, or how my penis feels to you, but it makes the friction feel better. However, it sounds like maybe you don't want to use it."

"No, actually, I do! Especially if you think it will hurt less. I was just asking."

"Later we can try it with and without lube and see what you think. Tonight we should do lube. It doesn't mean anything's wrong with you or anything, and I can just about guarantee that when you've compared sex with lube to sex without lube, you'll strongly prefer lube."

"Okay."

She sighs happily. How lucky she is to be with a man so considerate. She doesn't like to think of all the women he's been with, but at least he knows what he's doing.

He's rubbed all around her breasts — her shoulders, neck, and collarbone, and his fingers keep getting further beneath the pillow. She waits until he's taken her nipples in his fingers again, but then she can't wait any longer.

"I think I'm ready now," she confesses.

"Me too," he winks at her happily. "But can I go down on you first? Would you mind that or do you want to skip straight to sex?"

"What do you want?"

"I definitely want to go down on you first, but it's up to you."

"You can do that then. I'd just forgotten. I got too excited."

"Well," he smiles, "something that you won't forget is about to happen."

He wipes his hands off on a towel and gets a different bottle out of the nightstand.

Lube, she thinks. That must be the lube.

Touching her lightly, he steers her ninety degrees, so now her knees are hanging off the bed. Then he lays down beside her, propping his head up on his hands.

"Are you ready?" he asks.

She looks at him, his eyes shining in the firelight.

"Yes."

"Okay. Just relax. You probably won't cum while I'm down there because it's your first time, but that's okay. I just want to play down there a little while, and then," he taps her nose gently to tease her, "I'm going to fuck you."

Now he has that smirk. As she looks up at him, her feeling of submission returns. She's all his. He can do anything he wants to her. She can see that he knows it, too, and of course that's humiliating, but she's beyond caring now.

"But while I'm down there, you can let me know what you want me to do. If there's anything you want me to do differently, or anything."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I just want you to close your eyes and trust me."

"Okay."

He admires her as she lays there, eyes closed, her body quivering at each light touch.

Raoul has fucked just about every woman he's ever wanted to fuck. Many of them humiliate themselves, throwing themselves at him desperately, and almost none of them resist him for long if he wants them. He's spent his life choosing between pathetic women and girls willing to do anything for his attention, accepting only the most beautiful and pleasing of them.

And being a man, a mere man for all his size and strength and courage and wealth, of course he's always appreciated the pussy. The women have always been eager to please, and he's enjoyed their affection.

But something was always missing, and whatever it was, May has it. Perhaps it's simply the fact that she really is, to his eyes, the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

It's plausible. Seeing her now, with her shining golden-bronze skin, smooth and soft with youthful health; her narrow face, fringed by a few strands of her dark hair that have escaped her hair wrap (he thinks of how it flows down to her waist, thick and rich and long); her high forehead; her dark brown eyebrows with their imperious arches; her mysterious, exotic, brown eyes, cutely folded on the inside corners, then sexily curved like scimitars; her long, thin nose, with its cute turned-up tip; her high cheekbones and hollow cheeks; her huge smile, so full of joy; her cute dimples....

He kisses her cheek, then her long, sexy neck, brushing his fingertips over her collarbones.

Then the perfect mounds of her breasts. He circles one with a finger, starting on the outside and slowly spiraling around, in toward the dark brown areola that sits like a cap on the point of her tit, crowned with a sexy little pill-button.

As he repeats this for the other breast, watching her flesh shiver with pleasure, seeing her complete trust and submission, he contemplates the beautiful, fragile paradox of love: his greatest pleasure is pleasing her, and her greatest pleasure is pleasing him. In this shared selflessness, they enjoy pleasures far more exquisite than if they each sought their own pleasure.

That might be what was missing, he thinks, as now he touches her breasts with two fingers at a time, very lightly teasing her nipples.

Who knows how all those women felt — some of them must have loved him even more than they loved his money or the glamour of what they saw as his life — but May is the only one who has made him feel loved. The only thing she wants from him is love, and she needs it.

She trusts him, surrenders herself to him. There is no game, no plot, no secret ambition.

"My god, you're beautiful," he tells her, tenderly licking a nipple, then pinching it gently between his lips.

"Mmmmmm," she coos, encouraging him.

To please her, he only has to let her know how deeply her beauty pleases him.

He slowly slides the fingertips of one hand down her long, soft body, along the amazing curve of her tiny waist — sixty-two centimeters, she'd lamented; it would have been comical if she hadn't been so sincerely vulnerable — to her hip, slowly over her pelvis, slowly down, lightly brushing her little "mound of Venus," finally covering her labia with two fingers.

Meanwhile, as if to distract her, he's blown on her nipple, wet from his lips and tongue, and kissed it again.

"Perfect breasts," he assures her. "Beautiful, beautiful nipples."

Now he kisses the side of her breast, moving down the curve of her waist, slowly following the same path his hand has just taken.

Each kiss is an exploration. His lips brush a bit of her skin, then his tongue, then lips again, as if his mouth is memorizing the taste and texture of her body. Her body, this body, that he's desired for so long.

Has he ever had to wait so long to enjoy a woman's body?

Well, he never got to enjoy Hadassa. And now she's had, what, five kids? She still looks surprisingly good, but nothing, nothing at all, like May.

He nuzzles his face into the hollow of her waist. What a lucky fucker he is. He almost feels pity for Hadassa's husband, for all the other men.

But how in the world did this goddess fall into his life?

His mouth moves down her body, his hand turns at the gate of her vagina. When he licks her pelvis, the side of his finger is resting where her labia meet, the pad of his thumb once again lays lightly on the hood of her clitoris.

With each kiss, each little movement of his hand, he feels her excitement mount. The tension is building in her body. She spreads her legs very slightly, enough to welcome him further, but not enough to seem immodestly eager.

When his lips have so gently, barely, barely kissed the hood of her clitorus, as his thumb has brushed along the now open lips of her outer labia, he slides off the bed, kneeling between her legs.

May has never felt more naked. She imagines him down there, looking straight into her open vagina.

It's awful, in a way. Truly, truly awful.

But somehow even more wonderful. As if he sees some secret about her... and if he likes that, then he must really like her.

The pad of his thumb slowly runs up and down, lingering lightly on her clit and then sliding down, and then up again, slowly opening her lips and spreading them further and further apart.

"Wow, May," he whispers. "You're so beautiful."

She can't believe he means it, but then he kisses her, very tenderly, right on her clit. With a gasp, she reflexively spreads her legs further — beyond what is comfortable for her, but she leaves them open, not wanting to discourage him in any way.

He slowly licks her, his tongue covering her entire pussy, from the base up to her clit again.

"Oh, god, oh, fuck," he moans, "you taste so fucking good!"

"No," she objects.

"Oh, yes. May, I need more of this."

"What?"

"Just a moment."

He lifts her hips up — she doesn't know what is happening, and she just goes along with it — and places a pillow under her. When he lowers her back down, the pillow has her thrust up at an angle, her pussy pointing right up at his face.

"How's that?" he asks.

"Um," she begins, uncertainly. She's thinking they should've skipped straight to sex. This is too embarrassing. She wonders if she should tell him. Would he be disappointed?

"Oh, fuck," he growls, before she can figure out what to say. "May, I just..."

And he dives in.

Over and over he licks her slit, his tongue sliding in just a little further each time, and then gently kisses her clit at the top. He sighs, he moans, he purrs — she can't believe he's having such a good time.

Eventually he pauses. "God, you taste good. Thank you for letting me do this."

"Really?"

"Oh, fuck yes."

One of his fingers lightly circles her clit while his thumb slides a little inside her.

"You have such a cute little pussy," he says. "Such pretty little lips, and this pretty little button here."

She can only sigh in reply.

"And you've trimmed yourself up so prettily," he whispers, brushing her pubic hair with his free hand.

"I heard you don't like it shaved," she manages to say through her tension.

"That's true. You've done it perfectly. Your pussy is so pretty."

Now he replaces his thumb with a finger, sliding it all the way inside and rubbing her clit from the back.

"Oh, god, Raoul!" she gasps, unintentionally.

"Is that okay?" he asks, pausing.

"Oh, yes, please," she insists, moving her hips to try to repeat that feeling.

But he does it for her, his finger doing whatever magic that is, and then his tongue goes to work on her clit now.

He seems to feel her tension building up, because he pauses to talk more, to make it last longer.

"You smell so good, May," he says. "And you have such a soft, warm cumhole here. My cock is going to feel so good here."

"Give me your cock, Raoul," she says, forgetting all her bashfulness, still embarrassed that his face is in her pussy.

"Not yet," he says. "Soon. But right now this is what I want to do."

She submits — since he wants to do it — as he licks her pussy lips again. She can't wait for him to put his finger inside her again, to kiss her clitoris again.

And when he finally does, it feels almost too good. Is she supposed to feel this good? Is this allowed?

The pressure builds again. Instead of putting his finger back inside her, he reaches up, grasping her tits with both hands. She covers his hands, pulling them hard against her.

Her body begins to shake — she can't believe it — is this really okay? — but he just keeps licking, so softly, and encouraging her — "Yes, May, yes," he says, between licks, his tongue just owning her pussy — and then —

A loud "Ah!" escapes her. She grabs his hair to pull him away because the feeling is too intense. Waves of pleasure shake her body, the best feeling she's ever had.

When they begin to subside, she relaxes her grip on his hair and he goes back.

"Let me, just a little more," he begs, but it's too much, and she has to pull him away again.

"I can't, Raoul, I'm sorry, I just..."

"Okay," he says, kissing her stomach, pulling the pillow out from under her.

"I need your... I need... please!"

"Okay. Do you want to roll over?"

Remembering then that they'd agreed to do doggy-style, she turns over as quickly as she can, and even lifts her butt to him without even thinking to hesitate.

It's almost humiliating for her, but she just needs his cock inside her! She never imagined feeling anything like this!

Burying her face in the soft comforter, she hears him opening the lube. It's apparently a new bottle; she hears him breaking the plastic seal. It's been a long time for him, she realizes. It must've been hard for him to wait.

But now her bare ass is just floating up in the air, and the moment seems horrifyingly long!

Finally she feels him positioning his dick at the entrance to her pussy.

"I love you, May," he says, taking her hips in his hands. To May, it seems too romantic for the urgency of the moment, but then as he begins to slide inside her he growls, "You are so fucking hot," and that is much better.

Suddenly she's not shy at all.

"Fuck me, Raoul," she orders. "Fuck me with your cock." She doesn't care if it hurts, she wants it so much. She did not know she could want a dick in this way.

And in he goes, slowly...

She tries to take it, but she panics.

"Stop! Stop, stop, stop!"

He pulls out quickly.

"Are you okay?"

She takes a breath, regretting that she stopped him. She's a little worried that he's disappointed, but even stronger is her need to get him inside her again.

"Yeah, I just.... It was okay. It didn't hurt too much, I was just...."

She turns her head around to look at him. "Raoul, you are so fucking big. It's bigger around than my arm! I was just surprised how it felt is all."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No, no, no, please do it again." She buries her face in the comforter.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Hurry. Please."

"Okay, but if you don't like it, we'll stop."

"No. Put it back in." He seems to hesitate — she wants him back inside her right this fucking second — and she knows he's too considerate to do it unless she insists.

Something almost breaks inside her. She can't be a polite little girl at this moment.

"Damn it, Raoul! Fuck me! Fuck! Me!"

For a moment she's actually angry. He has teased her to distraction, made her say horrible words. Her pussy is wet and ready, she's all wound up, he was inside her so she's not even a virgin now anyway, and she fucking needs his fucking cock right goddamn fucking NOW!

She feels it filling her, stretching her. There is pain, a little, not so bad, but the pleasure of knowing he's finally inside her is far greater.

"Oh, god, yes," she whimpers.

His cock, she realizes with disbelief, is inside her!

Her pussy had never felt empty, but now, suddenly, it feels full. Wonderfully full!

He slides it all the way in, holding her waist, and then he begins pumping, slowly.

"Oh, yes," he shudders. "Oh, fuck."

"Yes!" she agrees, almost weeping. "Fuck!"

Her profanity excites her and seems to encourage him. He speeds up a little. Each of his thrusts forces a little gasp out of her, and each of her gasps seems to encourage him more.

"Oh, god, May," he grunts, and she can feel that he's no longer hesitating.

"Oh, fuck," she begins to cry, happy that at last he's just doing whatever he wants back there and she can just enjoy it. She bites the comforter hard — for some reason, that's just what she wants to do at that moment — and feels the power of his desire in the way he's holding her waist, gripping her hips, thrusting his cock into her.

She flashes back to her new fantasy: he's a barbarian warrior, taking her as his prize. He wants her so much, she's helpless to resist. She submits to his pleasure, lets his desire use her body.

She feels the power, the urgency of his need. She feels him using her for his pleasure.

He's going to fill her womb with his cum.

Cries that she doesn't understand are coming out of her every time she feels him thrust. Between them, she manages to whine, "I love you, Raoul. Oh, I love you."