No Talking

Stuart's cock caught at her opening and popped just inside.

Camilla gasped and froze, staring at Stuart. He gazed back, mouth open, eyes half closed. He pushed further; drawing another gasp, then sank into her all the way.

"Haaaaaa," Camilla groaned hoarsely as he entered her. A thrill electrified her as she felt him opening her. It was everything her body wanted, and it was everything her mind didn't. She grunted and pressed at his chest, but it only caused him to slide deeper. They both groaned when he paused, his length deep inside her, his hips pressing hers into the bed.

Camilla's panic drowned the exquisite sensation of fullness. He was inside her. She was unprotected. They had to stop.

Stuart lifted his weight off her slightly and his penis jabbed even deeper inside. Despite herself, she moaned in animal satisfaction at the feeling.

He was looking at her. Did he see the panic in her eyes? Or, did he only see her wide expression, her open mouth, and hear her heaving excitement?

Stuart withdrew from her and Camilla felt a sinking loss and emptiness. She fought the urge to pull him back, but then he sank back into her so slowly Camilla wanted to scream with elation. She arched her back, spread her legs and heard a raspy groan. It was hers. Stuart eased back out again and slid into her once more, causing Camilla to pant from the sensations and the realization that he was beginning to fuck her.

Okay, she thought, just a little more. He can do it just a little more, then I'll get him off me. It's okay. I'll make him stop.

She marveled how much better a naked penis felt. It was so unlike her experiences with a condom. No wonder she never enjoyed it. This was how sex should be. THIS was making love.

No, she realized, this is fucking. I'm being fucked. I'm being fucked by a man for real for the very first time. And it's Stuart.

Camilla knew she had to push him away, but she couldn't help but wriggle a little when he stroked fully inside her, grinding her clit against him and angling her hips to seek the best sensations. With foggy thoughts, she realized he was speeding up, fucking her with more force.

Okay, gotta end this, she thought and found the strength to push at his chest. Stuart raised himself and stopped moving.

He got the message now, thought Camilla. He's stopping. But he jammed himself deep, and she felt a surging wetness inside as his penis throbbed.

Oh no. Already? Oh God!

She pushed hard against Stuart's chest and lifted her hips trying to throw him off, but it only drove his spewing cock deeper. She could feel his spasms as he pumped sperm into her unprotected body.

Camilla struggled to breathe, both from panic and from Stuart's weight when he collapsed on her. She squirmed beneath his body and could feel his still-hard cock stirring inside.

She worried they had made a stain on the bed, or on the skirt rumbled under her. Then the biggest worry landed like a thud: he could have made her pregnant. It was the perfect time of the month. Videos from high school health classes flashed through her: the millions of sperm racing inside her, searching for her fertile egg, vulnerable to their inevitable assault. She couldn't help but picture them from the videos: happy cartoon wrigglers each wearing a top hat and bow tie, carrying a rose. She laughed at the image in spite of the cold dread in her chest.

Stuart kissed her neck again and hugged her. When he lifted himself up, she felt like hitting him, yelling at him no matter how much it hurt her throat. How could he do that to her? He didn't ask. He just led her to a room and fucked her like some dumb slut sorority bimbo. He didn't care about her. He didn't like her. She was just meat. A conquest.

But he was looking at her again. Loving, thankful, full of wonder. If his look from before was like a boy seeing the best birthday present ever, this time it was Christmas. Even in the dim light, Stuart's eyes shone. It wasn't a look of conquest; it was a look of affection, even adoration.

Something about Camilla's expression made concern cloud Stuart's face. He tried to speak but winced again. He resorted to more pantomime: he pointed to Camilla then gave a thumbs-up with a questioning look on his face.

'Are you okay?' she translated.

Camilla's anger drained. Did rapists ask their victims how they felt? Or womanizing frat boys? Was it possible Stuart had been swept along by desire just like her? He couldn't know she was unprotected, and she never said no as things progressed. But she didn't say yes, either.

She didn't know what to feel, but she nodded to him and noted his look of relief. He kissed her tenderly and rolled off to lie beside her.

Camilla propped up on an elbow to study his face. He was still looking at her. She realized her top was still pulled up exposing her breasts, but he ignored them: his soft eyes were locked on hers.

She didn't feel as mad any longer. She felt just as responsible for what they had done. It was stupid, undisciplined, and the hottest experience she ever had. She accepted it, and within her emerged a new confidence. She somehow felt less like a shy high school kid and more like a grown woman.

The damage is done, she thought. I'll get the morning after pill, or Plan B or whatever it is.

She looked down the length of Stuart's body. Comically, his jeans were halfway down his legs with his cock exposed and shrinking against his leg. Camilla realized she felt incomplete and unsatisfied. What they had done was over too soon. She was still on fire. She wanted more.

She thought, Well, if I'm going to leave here doing the walk of shame, if I'm going to be knocked-up, I should make it worthwhile.

Camilla stood up. She removed her skirt, pulled off her blouse and shed her underwear while Stuart watched, amazed, from the bed. She yanked off Stuart's jeans and gestured for him to remove his shirt. Both naked, Camilla lay beside her new lover.

Stuart looked at her questioningly, and Camilla pinned him to the bed with a hungry kiss. She ran her hands over him, feeling his broad chest, squeezing his biceps, running her fingers through his hair. He was such a contrast to the familiar contours of her old boyfriend. Stuart was a little taller and in better shape. Camilla made a mental note to ask him what he did to stay fit... later.

She reached lower and felt him. He had softened. Camilla slid up and stuck a boob in his mouth. Stuart's mouth and hands did delightful things to her breasts while she stroked him. It took some time, but she got him back to full attention.

She climbed onto him, lined up and sank down, sighing as she felt herself being spread with the return of that wonderful fullness. She sat up straight, driving his length deep into her and rolled her hips, enjoying the sensations deep inside.

Stuart was wide-eyed, his gaze wandering from her eyes, to her breasts, to where they were joined, and back. He moved to hold her hips, but Camilla intercepted his hands and planted them on her breasts. He massaged her as she slid back and forth, riding him.

Camilla groaned and shut her eyes when she found the best angle. She rested her palms on Stuart's chest and rocked back and forth, basking in the newness of his naked cock inside and the sensations against her clit. That warm feeling was spreading again.

The room was cool against her skin and the small bed creaked as she rode him. She wanted to come. She needed to come. His hands dutifully massaged her breasts. When he thumbed her nipples or ran the flat of his hands from the underside of her boobs up across her nipples, delightful shivers raced through her.

She moved with more urgency, feeling her peak approaching. It was fascinating seeing Stuart breathe faster and begin jamming his hips up into her. Camilla felt another twinge of pride at the lust she had brought to his face and reveled in the knowledge that this time, without any doubt, it was her fucking him.

Camilla rode Stuart back and forth, up and down. She reached down to give her clit direct attention, adding to satisfying fullness inside. She was close. She pounded down on him, sliding and strumming her clit. Just a little more and she would be there.

She barely noticed when Stuart gasped, bucked up hard and came inside her again. He grabbed her waist, trying to get her to slow her motions on his now sensitive dick, but Camilla kept riding him, using his still-hard cock as she chased orgasm.

After a few moments of concentrated effort, it began: that wonderful blossoming spread through her. She arched her back and froze as she came for the first time with a man inside her. It felt more intense than any orgasm she ever had alone. Camilla shut her eyes, concentrating on the delicious joy of release.

When it finally passed, she found Stuart panting, looking up in wonder. Camilla couldn't meet his gaze. With a long breath, she closed her eyes and slid off to lay on the bed with her back to him.

He must think I'm a total slut now, she thought. She cringed, thinking of the wanton lust she had just displayed. If he had gone too far with her before, she had just done worse. She had only used him for her pleasure. He'll never want to see me again, she thought.

She felt Stuart wrap himself around her from behind, cupping her breasts and delivering light kisses across her shoulders.

Clearing his throat, he managed to croak out his first actual words to her that evening: "So hot. That was wonderful."

Really? She turned around in his arms. Once again he had that wonder-filled little boy look, only this time it was like he had a birthday, two Christmases and won the lottery all on the same day.

Stuart brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Talk. Tomorrow." he croaked. "Okay?"

Camilla nodded. Yes, they had a lot to talk about. Though they hadn't spoken a word, she felt like she already had already learned things about him, and even more about herself.

She laid her head against his warm chest, looking forward to their talk, and what she wanted to do with him after that.