The Bond Ch. 01

[I have been a long-time reader on Literotica, but this is my first ever submission. I definitely err on the side of reluctance rather than non-consent for my preferred stories, and I'm really looking forward to exploring some ideas of scenarios where the characters really shouldn't, but they just can't help themselves.

Thanks so much for reading, and hopefully this will be the first of a bit of a series].

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It was midnight, and I was finally an adult. The ceremonies had been conducted one after another all afternoon to usher me away from my childhood and the end of my eighteenth year. My mouth hurt from smiling, but at least I hadn't disappointed my mother by ruining the expensive dress I wore which she had alternately threatened and begged me to not get dirty. Now, as I sat on the throne reserved for this occasion before the bonfire, the ivory weave flickered with red light. My dark knees and feet were bare as was custom, but it was the height of summer so I was not cold. I raised my head, flower-sprinkled curls falling down my back, and I looked out at the crowd which had relaxed now the formalities were over. A shadowed figure caught my eye. Although I couldn't see his face, I knew that stance like I knew my own reflection. I turned to my mother, who was starting to fade with fatigue, and asked her permission to go for a walk. She conferred with my father, who was negotiating some new agreement with a guest, and after heated whispers back and fourth, they agreed. Technically, at eighteen, I was no longer their charge, but the Bond did not officially begin until sunrise. I sighed. Five hours of freedom in a single lifetime. I began to step off the dais, but my mother grabbed my arm tightly before my second foot touched the ground.

"Make sure you stay out of trouble, you understand? The Palace demands that you arrive pure and untouched, and- "

"-our family depends on you to fulfill the Bond. Yes, mother, I know."

My mother scrutinised me in the firelight, her face so like yet unlike mine softening.

"We will miss you, Anesha. I wish it wasn't you..."

She didn't have to finish the sentence. I was the only daughter. Every low-born family had a rare opportunity to raise their status and undo past transgressions by agreeing to give their daughter to the Palace once she is of age. Forever. I had heard the story of my great-grandmother enough times to know the significance.

"I know, mama. Now, please let me stretch my legs before I have to sit in a carriage all day."

I stepped into the shadows and wandered through the crowd. The heat from the fire radiated among the bodies and I could feel a trickle of sweat beading between my breasts. I ran my fingers through my hair which had grown wilder as the day went on, and snatched a small cake from one of the long tables set up for the feast. I widened my curve and wandered further away from all the people and the roar of conversation finally dulled so I could hear the cicadas. I skirted around the side of my father's barn, and leaned against it for a second before slowly sliding to the ground with my feet outstretched. Four hours and forty five minutes before my life was never again my own. I supposed I should feel worse about it, but I took a bit out of the apple cake and let the moonlight cool me down.

Suddenly a shadow fell over me, and it whispered my name in a husky baritone: "Anesha."

"Fabre", I said, managing to sound more surprised than I was and pulling my legs together, "what are you doing here?"

His family was a level below mine. Where my father was a merchant, his was a blacksmith. He was one of four boys, and no sisters meant no opportunity to bargain for more status and education. Instead, he was fated to follow in his father's footsteps and unless his aging father managed a daughter soon, his family would have no opportunity to progress for another generation.

Fabre knelt on the soft straw, supporting himself with one hand on either side of my legs, and kissed me on my open mouth. I looked furtively around me.

"Fabre, we really shouldn't. You know what my father is like, and in..." I looked at the moon "four hours and twenty minutes, I'm going to have to leave. Forever."

"I know, Anesha," he rumbled in my ear as a hand crept to my breast, "you don't have to remind me."

We had been sneaking around together all summer. He was a tall lad, well-muscled from a season of smithing. I couldn't see them in the dark, but he had eyes the colour of the ice that floats downriver in spring, and I loved to look into them. Our families were cordial, but separate, and the kissing and touching I had let him do these recent months was an absolute secret. I was still a virgin, but my parents did not want to take any chances and so I had always stopped him from going too far.

Fabre ran his thumb over my nipple, nothing but the dress between his hand and my skin. He kissed me on my neck, and shifted one knee between mine.

"Fabre," I sighed, leaning my head back against the barn wall, "what if someone sees?"

"They won't," he said with certainty, his fingertips running along the edge of my neckline before slipping under the fabric.

He shifted his weight again, and suddenly both his knees were between mine, spreading my bent knees apart. I went to protest again, and he cut me off with another kiss, dipping his tongue into my mouth. Leaning over me, he kept one hand on my breast and trailed another down my belly towards the hem of my dress. Our culture is quite open when it comes to cuts of clothing, but sitting like this had caused it to hike quite a way up my thighs than was proper. As per custom, I only wore a thin slip underneath and Fabre pushed the satin fabric further up my thighs.

I pulled away from his kiss and whispered "what are you doing?"

He didn't answer, but instead traced up my inner thigh to the curve of my buttock, the cooling night breeze suddenly apparent against the wetness further in. We had played this game several times before, seeing how far we could get without actually defiling me, but never at a time of so much risk. I tried to push him away, but he just entwined his hand around my dark curls and pulled himself closer, stretching my thighs further apart in the process.

His long back blocked out the moon, and I could only see silver light highlighting his hair. I could feel his hand drawing closer to my centre, his fingertips growing slick with my desire. I tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip on my hair, and touched my folds with the lightest of touches. Unconsciously, my hips moved towards him, and I slid a little further down the wall. Taking this movement as encouragement, he dipped a fingertip into my vulva and stroked gently upwards.

Worrying where this was leading, and where my body wanted it to lead, I decided to do something radical.

"What about my mouth? Remember we did that once? I'll let you do that, Fabre, but that's all and then I'd better get back..."

His interest piqued, he let go of my hair and used one hand to untie his trousers. I had seen his penis before, and was a little disappointed it was too dark to see it now. I was always fascinated how hard it could get and how the colour of the head was different to the colour of the shaft. But, as they say, all cats are grey at night time and all I could see was a shadow. Pressing towards me, I opened my mouth and he guided himself in. I remembered to keep my tongue soft and my teeth tucked away, and gently sucked on the tip. He snaked his hand up to the back of my head, and I slid down a little further to create some space to move. I was hoping that this would distract him and his other hand would leave things be, but unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

As I took a little more of him in my mouth, his other hand pressed a little more firmly on my vulva, fingers sliding up to my clitoris and then back down again to the entrance of my vagina.

"Gentle", I tried to say, though of course it came out muffled sounding something like "Gngkle."

I licked up the underside of his penis and then began to suck and move a little more vigorously, hoping that he would come and that would be that. He groaned a little and pressed his finger right against the opening of my vagina. I was getting very wet now, and was worried he might slip in, so I lifted one of my own hands and started stroking him. I could feel him hardening now, but then suddenly a sound made us both freeze.

I stopped moving altogether, his penis still deep in my mouth, and listened. I could hear the sound of water splashing very close by.

"Someone's making water," he said under his breath.

I pulled him out of my mouth. My family would be absolutely ruined if I was discovered in this position. I shifted to try to get up but he pressed me on my shoulder, preventing me from moving. Instead, he took the opportunity to slide the tip of his finger into my vagina. My eyes widened, and I was about to cry out, but he put his hand over my mouth.

"You want someone to catch you like this?"

I shook my head no.

"Good girl," he said, even though he was only a season or two older than me. "You just stay quiet now."

The splashing sound continued. The crowd had been drinking for hours, and hopefully this person turned back and went for another.

He pulled his finger out, and then pressed it back in again, a fraction deeper this time. My legs opened further of their own volition, and for some reason, his hand over my mouth made things twice as slick down below. I tried to hold my breath, but after a few seconds that just made me start throbbing below. I tried to struggle, but he kept his hand firm on my face and slid his finger in and out, deeper and deeper. The sound of water finally stopped and footsteps headed away from the barn. I relaxed, and all of a sudden I felt a sense of more fullness than I had ever felt before. He had put in a second finger.

When we had played together before, he had put in one finger but never two. The most important part of protecting my purity was to make sure that my hymen did not break. I was a fairly active girl, and liked to run and play sports and even touch myself sometimes in the darkness of my own room. One of Fabre's fingers had never felt like it had threatened to tear anything, but two? I was getting very nervous now. I tried to reach for his penis again, hoping to finish what I had started, but he pulled away from me.

"Not that way," he growled, pressing both fingers deeper and touching my clitoris with his thumb.

I was slowly growing accustomed to the feeling of two fingers and relaxed a little more, sliding further again down the barn wall so I was almost on my back. Fabre released his hand on my mouth and decided to put one of those fingers in my mouth. The feeling of his fingers in my vagina and in my mouth at the same time was delicious, and I closed my eyes and groaned.

Taking this as further encouragement, Fabre pulled both his hands out of me and reached down to my hips. With ease, he lifted my pelvis up and slid me smoothly so I was completely flat on my back now, his legs between mine. He lowered himself down so we were belly to belly, his hips just below mine, and grabbed my hand in his and pulled it down to my clitoris.

"I want you to touch yourself," he said, entwining his fingers in my other hand and holding it against the barn wall.

He shifted his hips and lay his weight on top of me with only just enough space for me to touch my clitoris. I could feel that I was very wet now, and my conspiring body opened my legs further to let him settle in. His penis, still exposed from his trousers, nestled up against my folds. He leaned in to kiss me, the movement pressing the head of his penis against my entrance.

Again I froze. I felt like the two fingers had not done damage to my virtue, but his penis was much bigger than his fingers and I was frightened now that this was getting out of hand. He kissed me deeply, and the tip of his penis nuzzled the entrance of my vagina. My body was screaming for him to push all the way, but my mind was screaming for him to stop. His tongue in my mouth prevented me from doing any actual screaming. He moved his hips back, and then pressed again, the tip moving just a little further in. He pulled out one more time, and then this time when he pressed back in, he hit a wall with a warning of pain. My hymen. My purity. The tiny piece of flesh that lay between my family's success and my family's ruin.

I pulled my head away and my hips down and said "Please, Fabre, no. I can't. I want to so badly but I can't. I must remain pure, my family depends on in".

I couldn't see his expression, but he pulled back, the tip again resting on my entrance. I knew that this was a sore point for him. My family was already above his and me going to the Palace would raise us a level further. I felt his body flex over me, suddenly terrified that he was going to shatter my future in one swift stroke.

Instead, he paused, before saying "What if we can keep you pure? What if we can make sure you are intact? Would you have me inside you completely?"

I nodded but then shook my head. His penis was tantalisingly close, and as wrong as it was, I could barely think straight.

"How we possibly do this without it breaking?" I asked, confused.

"Answer me," he demanded, pressing towards me again and making me gasp with anticipation. "Would you have me, if you could?"

"Yes," I answered, "I would have you".

At this, he raised himself up and slid down my body until his face was squarely between my legs. Trying to see what he was doing, I propped myself up on my elbows before a sensation like nothing I had ever felt before sent me straight back to the ground. A warm, wet feeling had begun between my legs and finally I understood that it was his tongue. Licking me in long strokes, Fabre used his thumb to rub my clitoris. My nipples began to tingle and I grabbed my breasts with my own hands while Fabre licked me slowly in my most secret of places. Again, I felt something firm pressing against my entrance, and as his tongue pressed inside me, this time it started to gently give way.

Feeling my body relax and my hips rise beneath him, Fabre lifted his head and climbed back to where he was before. This time, when he pressed himself to me, the tip slid in easily. I let my hand snake back down to my clitoris, my legs now as wide as they would go. Fabre pulled out, then pressed in again a little deeper. It felt full, but this time no hint of pain. He pulled out again, and pressed in again deeper. I knew that this was it. I knew that if anyone found us now, there would be no mistaking what I had done. I was lying on my back in the moonlight with a lower class boy fucking me while my purity party went on just behind us, and I had never felt so alive in my life. It felt so incredible, and I knew that I could not push him away any longer. He pulled out again, and this time pressed in all the way to the hilt.

I slowly rubbed my clitoris with one hand, squeezing my breast with my other, feeling the tension build. He began to move a little faster now, but still gently. My own juices mingled with those from his mouth, and he slid easily. I had never felt anything like this, and I could feel that I was approaching the edge. I opened my mouth to say something, but he just took the opportunity to put his fingers inside it again. Sucking on his fingers while he slowly but surely fucked me, I rubbed my breasts and clitoris and then suddenly I came harder than I had ever managed by myself or with just Fabre's hands.

I felt him stiffen inside me, and in one swift movement, Fabre pulled out of my slick vagina and before I could say anything, I felt hot liquid splashing on my stomach which had long since been exposed under my dress. Fabre had pushed almost every boundary tonight, but even he was not stupid enough to put a child in me as I was on my way to the Palace.

I pulled him towards me, using his trousers to wipe his seed from my belly, and to kiss his stupid face one last time. I ran my hand down my vulva and held it up to the moonlight. The liquid glinted white instead of black. No blood. There was still a chance that my transgression wouldn't be discovered and my hymen, however small and stretched, and my family's Bond, would remain intact.

"I'll miss you Anesha," Fabre said, shy and a little sheepish now.

"I know," I replied, standing up now and inspecting my dress for pieces of hay and trying to rake my curls back into some semblance of submission.

Three hours. Enough time to find somewhere discrete to dry off, find another apple cake and spend my last few hours as a free woman in my home.