The Virgin and the Virus

The slacks fell away as Lindsey undid the clasps, followed by Pete's Oxford, and then it was just his boxer briefs left, snug-fitting and navy blue, with a pouch in front that his cock filled out into an absolutely enormous bulge.

"You're so beautiful, Pete." Lindsey ran a hand up his chest as he bent his neck to kiss her.

The kiss landed hard, and he thrust against her again, the fabric rubbing and tugging as they moaned into each other's mouths.

Her hands slid around him and underneath the waistband of the boxer briefs, gripping his butt. And then she was pushing him back a few clumsy steps and rocking him backward onto the bed.

Pete lay back obediently, legs dangling off the side, looking up at her as she stood in front of him.

"Lindsey. Baby..."

She tucked a shoulder shyly up to her chin as she looked at him. Her lashes fluttered and her hands reached behind her back.

The clasp on the bra sprung loose, and with a shrug it fell away, landing softly on the floor.

Look at me Pete, she thought. Look at all of me.

Pete's eyes grew wide with approval, and he raised himself up on his elbows to take her in.

"Do you like what you see?" she asked.

"Lindsey, your breasts, your body—you're absolutely perfect," Pete said. "You're stunning."

"This is the first time a guy has ever seen me topless," she admitted.

"It's OK," Pete said, and grinned. "I'm a doctor."

They laughed, and Lindsey felt her anxiety drain away.

Lindsey looked down at Pete's cock, spiking like a tentpole in the boxer briefs. Her breathing got shallower.

Pete saw where she was looking, and before she could blink, he had pulled the underwear down his legs and tossed them off the bed to land beside the nude bra.

"Is that what you wanted?" he asked.

Lindsey blinked at his erection—huge and swollen and a deep red, riven with dark veins and capped with a fat, mushroomy tip. And suddenly, she froze.

"Pete," she said softly, "I— ... I don't know what to do."

She was suddenly the teenage girl at the front of the church again.

Her skin felt dirty, defiled.

This was wrong.

She shivered. Her cheeks flushed red.

"This is..." she started, and then stopped, staring desperately at the naked man on the bed. His expression was caring and warm. "I just feel like..." She stared at the floor.

I can't, she thought.

But just when she was about to walk out the door, call the whole thing off, pray for healing or death, just let God decide—a voice came from above.

"Lindsey, it's OK. You can do this."

It was a woman's voice, soft and sweet. Lindsey looked up at the intercom grille in the ceiling above them, and then at the two-way mirror on the opposite wall.

Mona.

"I'll help you," she said. "Please, don't be shy."

Lindsey stood half-naked, looking at the reflection of her breasts in the opaque glass. The woman on the other side is my friend.

And she's this man's wife.

The world was upside down, she'd never had sex and didn't know how, and all of a sudden the whole thing was so daunting that she couldn't breathe.

"It's not you, Lindsey, I promise," Mona said. "It's normal to be unsure your first time. I know I was."

Pete turned toward the glass with a loving look. In that moment, Lindsey could feel them connect.

"It's true," Pete said, turning back to her. "No one could blame you for being scared. But it's OK. Mona and I are here for you."

"And," Mona said, "judging by how rock-hard my hubby is, I'd say it's time to lose those skivvies and climb aboard this ride, little missy."

Lindsey and Mona shared a giggle, and then Lindsey bit her lip, slipping her fingers under the waistband of the lace thong.

"OK," she said. "I'm ready. I think."

The sheer underwear slid down over her buttocks, and she bent one leg at the knee, lifting her foot out of them, still in the heels, and then she guided them off the other foot, laying the garment on the bed next to Pete.

The friends took each other in, each indulging an open lust as their eyes wandered over the other's body.

Lindsey's reddish blonde pubic hair was trimmed short into a small tufted patch above her groin. Her bare breasts sat high on her chest in delicate bulbs, with pale, dappled areolas and beaded nipples the color of apricots that formed dainty twin targets at the center of each of her pretty mounds. Pete's eyes trailed over them and down her body to her long, limber legs.

She climbed unsteadily onto the bed. Pete's gaze fixed on the space between Lindsey's legs, where her exposed labia now swelled and blushed red. She straddled him, clutching her breasts, and his hands slid up and down her legs and belly, rubbing and probing.

"You're so beautiful," he said. She felt his cock brush against her inner thigh, firm and warm.

With a leg on either side of his, she reached down and took him in both her hands. Wrapped in her cool fingers, his penis twitched and pulsed.

She'd always wondered what it would feel like to hold a man like this in her hands. She never expected the mass of taut flesh to feel so alive, like a rabid animal barely held at bay against her grip.

"This is crazy," she said, looking down and laughing in spite of herself. "You feel so good."

Pete just looked on with a half-lidded stare as Lindsey held him. He rested his hands on her thighs, making circles against her skin with his thumbs.

She was having trouble drawing full breaths.

She remembered just the previous Sunday, she had sat next to Pete and Mona in church. I was wearing these exact heels, she thought. She remembered smelling his cologne, the same one he wore now. She remembered what a handsome couple the two had made—Mona, slight with soft brown skin, sparkling eyes and dark hair, and Pete, the tall, muscular Christian version of an Abercrombie model, hair always just a little unkempt, but somehow perfect whichever way it fell.

And now I'm holding his penis, she thought. She said it out loud, as if to prove to herself that it was real: "I'm holding Pete Yarbrough's penis."

"Yes you are," he said with a laugh. He reached up to her chest, where the gold cross still hung. Her breasts fit perfectly in his palms, and he squeezed. "And I'm touching Lindsey Porter's breasts."

"Mmm," she said. "Touch them all you want."

Where did this naughty side come from?

"Careful—" Pete's voice lowered to a raspy whisper. "—or I might never stop."

She licked her lips. He has a naughty side too, she thought.

She bent toward his face, arching her back, and he leaned in as if on cue, taking a nipple firmly in his mouth like a horny teenager sucking a breast for the first time.

Fire roared across her skin. His mouth on her made her whole body growl with lust like she'd been possessed by a demon.

She squirmed, and her toes curled against his legs. "Never stop. Never, ever stop," she whispered. Her voice barely worked.

Her eyes glazed and she tilted her chin up distractedly, lost for a full long, sensual minute in the wet caress of his tongue and lips on her breasts.

Then Mona's voice came softly from above. "Lindsey." She struggled to open her eyes and refocus on the woman behind the glass. "You look really beautiful," Mona said.

The woman's voice was playful and light, as though she were actually enjoying watching her husband fondle their friend's breasts. "Tell me sweetheart," she continued, "do you feel like you're moist enough to take Pete inside you?"

Lindsey just swallowed and nodded. She almost couldn't believe this was real.

"Will it ... hurt?" she asked, looking down at Pete.

"Only a little," Mona said. "But you'll get through it."

Pete handled his penis with one hand. The skin across the bulbous tip was stretched taut and thin, with a hundred tiny little bumps dimpling the surface. Lindsey studied it in wonder.

Pete's other hand slid comfortingly along her thigh, running up and down in gentle strokes as she raised herself over him with a small gulp.

She lowered herself slightly and felt the pressure of his warm tip against her labia. She glanced down, and his eyes met hers.

His gaze was so pure. His mouth hung open with an unconstrained desire. In that moment, Lindsey felt exactly one thing: wanted.

"Pete," she gasped, "I'm so glad you're my first."

As she said the word "first," she spread her knees outward against the bedding and sank down onto him, pushing the mass of his throbbing flesh deep and fast up into her body all at once. With a jolt, he broke through her hymen, and she screamed and crumpled.

"Ohhh!!"

Her voice echoed against the walls of the room, and she raised both her hands to cover her mouth. Pete gasped in time with her as she exhaled a huge breath.

He's so big, she thought. How was it possible that he even fit inside her?

And it hurt—a shooting, intense electricity that filled her brain. She paused a moment and shut her eyes, squirming against him uncomfortably for several moments until the pain had started to ebb.

She glanced tentatively down between her legs to check their status. Her blushing groin was pressed down fully against his, and every centimeter of his thick shaft was concealed inside her. She ran her hands up over her own belly, feeling her friend's penis push against her from the inside.

It was so foreign, but so amazing.

"That's it. You did it, baby," Pete said.

He called me baby. She shuddered and closed her eyes.

"How does it feel?" he asked.

"It feels ... amazing. It feels absolutely amazi—ng." She grunted with a slight needling pain as he moved deeper.

How is he deeper? She thought. It was like she could feel him in her throat.

Suddenly, she flashed back to the dream. Lance and Carrie by the bed, scolding her for the impure thoughts she'd had about Pete.

And now I'm fucking him. I'm fucking Pete. She let the words tumble in her mind unchecked, as the cute doctor moved inside her.

She placed her hands on his chest and leaned over him, staring down into his eyes.

"I never want to forget this," she whispered. She leaned down and they kissed, warm and sensual, as if they were lovers, as if all of this wasn't temporary. As if he really did love her.

As if she really loved him.

When her lips touched his, she felt his erection pulse inside her like a piston being thrust suddenly into motion. He reacted with every flick of her tongue inside his mouth.

His hands smoothed up along her shoulder blades, clutching at her and pulling her down against him.

"Stay still," he whispered. "Let me."

"Are you going to—"

He nodded. "Yes. Is that OK?"

"Yes," she said.

It was the sentence that had so shocked her when she had come across it in the description of the clinical trial. In order for the woman to have the best chance at recovery, it said, the man needed to climax inside her.

Pete reached down and clutched Lindsey's buttocks, holding her firmly against him as he began to thrust up into her. She choked with the sensation, gasping against his cheek as he filled her again and again with his entire length.

"Oh yes. Oh yes oh yes oh yes oh yes Pete please don't stop ... don't ...

"Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh!"

Lindsey's voice strung out in a series of long, agonizing cries.

Thrust after thrust drowned her in a lake of longing. She squeezed her thighs against him as small, rippling orgasms began to tickle her insides.

"This is so amazing," she gasped. "Yes, yes, yes... Oh, oh, ohhhhh... Oh!"

She rode him hard, jerking her hips down against him and smashing her clit against the base of his penis.

Then from nowhere, the tidal wave hit her.

Lindsey's forehead furrowed, and her mouth stretched wide open in a frozen panic. Every muscle in her body turned itself inside out as she locked up in a huge, orgasmic seizure.

Then like a whip cracking, she heaved against him with a gasp, her hips lurching and her arms clutching at him as she sobbed into his neck.

"Unggghhhhhh!"

Veins stood out on Lindsey's forehead and her cheeks burned bright red. Ten thousand volts of electricity pummeled her body from inside. Her legs flew straight out, and then contracted again, over and over like a spastic snow angel, or like a frog swimming for its life. In the process, one of her heels flew off, flying through the air and striking the glass of the two-way mirror with a loud thunk.

Pete intensified his own motions under her. His fingers opened and closed around her buttocks, and his hips dug hard against hers like a bucking bull.

"Yes Lindsey. I'm close." His voice was strained and distracted, and his eyes were shut tight.

Pete's cock slid in and out of her vagina with the licking sound of a dog lapping up water, slick and wet with her juice.

Then all of a sudden, he gritted his teeth and his body locked up hard against her, chest muscles forming into hard knots as the veins in his neck stood out. With one hand, he grabbed the spike of her remaining high heel and pulled up on it as if her leg were the switch of a circuit breaker, and with a twitch and a loud grunt, he came inside her.

Lindsey felt the fluid rush out of him and fill her vagina, almost without registering what it was. It was like the universe had exploded in her soul.

His semen spilled out like milky sap from her swollen opening, trailing down onto his belly. She felt him twitch inside her several times as he emptied the last few bursts of cum.

Lindsey raised herself up slowly, looking down at where their bodies were still joined, and she stared at the excess of fluid—his and hers—the oozing, irrefutable evidence of what they had just done together.

She looked up into Pete's eyes again, and she saw that they were shining.

"Lindsey," he said, "kiss me."

She leaned down and pressed herself against him, and he rolled her over on her side. She draped a slender leg over his, her foot still inside the high heel, and in the pleasant semi-darkness of the exam room they kissed long and deep, an embrace filled with all the soft fondling and quiet moans of a pair of teenagers hopelessly in love.

When she finally broke the kiss, Lindsey blinked. "Pete, the burning stopped." She looked down at her groin and laughed to herself.

"That's really good," he said. He lay a hand on her soft breast, sliding his fingers up over her nipple and back down, and then squeezing it playfully. "Now we just have five more rounds of that left to go."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "At least five," she corrected him. "But I'm thinking we should probably do more, just to be safe."

He sat up and looked down at her, brushing a matted strand of her damp hair from her forehead. "So you think you can handle that much more of me, huh?"

"Mm-hmm," she said, a glint dancing in her eyes. She pulled her leg off of him and spread herself wide on the mattress, knees bent, her bare foot burrowing beneath him, toes tickling the underside of his legs.

"Remember, Doctor Yarborough," she said, "you're the only thing keeping me alive."

"Well then, I guess you leave me no choice," he said.

Pete raised himself up on his knees and looked down at her.

"But I may need some help getting myself ready for Round Two," he said.

Lindsey lifted her foot and slipped off the high heel, tossing it beside them on the bed.

"I think I have just the prescription for that," she said.

She placed her bare feet on either side of Pete's shaft, curled her toes, and began to stroke.