Deflowering Nathan

"A toast!" Gary annonced. "To our friends and their future as a married couple. And may we all get so lucky one day."

"Hear, hear!" Nathan and I chorused, and we all clinked and took deep, hearty swigs. Ben and Amy were the nicest people we knew, and so into one another even after ten years together; no two people deserved each other more.

The evening that followed was one of the most drunken, giggly and generally agreeable I could remember in a long while. As it reached one a.m., I realised that my usual sleep-over position on the uncomfortable sofa might be at stake; Nathan and Gary didn't look like they were going anywhere in a hurry. By two, we were all scattered around the living-room floor in front of Monsters Inc for the ninetieth time; Gary was fast asleep and snoring on the floor with his legs up on an armchair, and Amy and Ben were slumbering in each other's arms on one of the giant beanbags. Only Nathan and I remained awake, he sitting on the aforementioned sofa, I lying on my front propped on a cushion. We hadn't spoken to each other much throughout the evening; things were still rather awkward between us. We were both aware that, whatever we'd agreed about not speaking of our feelings for one another again and carrying on with what was after all a beautiful and above all platonic friendship, things were different now. There was no getting away from the fact – something had to give, and that something was going to either make or break us.

"All right?" I asked.

"Yeah. Pretty epic news tonight."

"Yeah."

We sat in silence for a little while longer, watching Boo and Sully ride through the Monsters Incorporated power plant on travelling doors, until I asked in a feigned casual voice, "So are you planning a stripper?"

"Huh?" He looked startled.

"For the stag night. You're the best man - isn't all that part of your duties?"

"Oh. I dunno. Maybe I will. Um – probably not. Bit sexist, bit old-fashioned, you know."

"I never had you down for a feminist."

"There you go, then – I can still surprise you." He looked down at his knees – then, without raising his gaze, he murmured, "Would you feel better if I did want a stripper?"

"That's a strange question."

"Not really. It'd make me more of a normal bloke – you know, oh look, there's a fit bird, phwoar, sort of thing. I know a lot of people think I'm a bit weird, for not being more into women, I mean."

"Aren't you into women, then?" I was puzzled by the remark. If the way he'd been looking at me all night was anything but my imagination, then he was lying through his teeth.

"God, yeah." He chuckled sheepishly. "I don't mean that. I'm just glad I work in a place where the only two girls on the staff have to wear a baggy polo shirt at all times, or I'd be a wreck. But, you know – strippers and FHM and all that – I guess I've never seen the point. I mean, they're attractive and all that, but I prefer girls that have a cat's chance in hell of ever becoming your girlfriend, you know?"

"Nathan," I said softly, "you should say stuff like that more often, especially with that much sincerity. You could have your pick of any girl you wanted."

"You think?" He looked up at me sharply.

"Sure," I said. "I'm sure the baggy-shirted girls at work would fall head over heels for you if they'd heard those words come out of your mouth."

"Did Steve ever say stuff like that to you?"

The question caught me off-guard, and suddenly that porn star whose pictures filled his email inbox seemingly daily appeared uninvited in my mental-image arena, all pouty sensuality and 'fill-my-vessel' mock innocence combined in one silicone-enhanced package. I recalled Steve telling me only two nights before he'd foolishly left his email account open - on my laptop, of all places - that I was so much more attractive than any of the over-feminised skinny Minnies he mingled with on a regular basis, and tried to recall a time before that when he'd made me feel like a goddess just for being me. A long, long time ago, back when we'd started going out, maybe – and even then, had I fished for the compliments? I couldn't remember – time, or alcohol, or possibly even lack of anything of the sort to remember ensured that I drew a blank.

"Yeah...of course," I wavered. "But you know Steve – he was always more of an action man than a words man."

"Hmm."

Another silence; we were getting good at them. Then Nathan stood up and announced, "I'd better shoot off. I'm running the shift tomorrow."

"Don't go," I said, rising to my feet also, hardly even registering the words in my brain before they were out of my mouth. I surprised myself with the forcefulness of their tone; it even got a raised eyebrow from him. "Please," I amended.

"Why shouldn't I, Ellie? What should I stay for?"

He looked intently at me, and I found myself unable to break eye contact. There was something in his eyes, some sort of fire that made me forget that he was good old Nathan, friend and confidante and definitely not fanciable. If we had been characters in one of those bodice-ripping historical romance stories I'd had a thing for when I was about sixteen, he would have taken me roughly into his arms and kissed me senseless – as it was, he just stood there, and repeated, "What should I stay for?"

This was it; the make-or-break moment. And my desire for him pulsed through me so strongly that I could barely think straight. How the hell had I gone twelve years without realising how sexy he was? Not in a male-model way, but with his tall lean frame and sparkly brown eyes the colour of dark chocolate, and his shy smile and gentle voice and those sensitive hands with the long, slim fingers, he was gorgeous. And he had the added attraction of being completely unaware of all of the above. He was sweet, kind - and so, so hot. Why had I wasted so much time on dating a litany of losers? And why had he hung around waiting for me to come to my senses all that time? He was still a virgin at twenty-five; he'd told me that with less shame than I would have expected from any guy. Not that I thought it shameful - in fact his need to be initiated just served to turn me on even more.

It was no use. I had to act, because he never would - he'd assured me of that. So, in a voice rendered barely audible by the whirlpool of feelings inside me, I said, "This," and walked over to him and kissed him.

His body stiffened at first, evidently shocked by my forwardness - but as I pressed my lips against his and wrapped my arms slowly around his shoulders, showing him that yes, I did mean this and I did want it as badly as he did, he relaxed, and began to kiss me back. And what a kisser he was. His lips were amazingly soft and just moist enough, and as the tip of his tongue gently probed mine I nearly buckled at the knees with pleasure. His hands, too, seemed to know just what to do - they were travelling up and down my back, slowly but purposefully, as if trying to find the exact spots to make me tingle. I was shocked to find that I was already starting to become horny. It was so many years since I'd been physically aroused just by kissing, and judging by the hardness pressing into the bottom of my abdomen, he was being affected the same way.

"Ellie..." he whispered into my ear as my hungry lips sought and found the sensitive skin on the side of his neck; he gave a little gasp as I tasted the little soft spot just beneath his earlobe. "Ellie - are you sure...I don't - oh, God - I don't just want a one-night stand."

"Nor do I," I murmured. Our lips met again and for a long time we spoke no more as we started to catch up on over a decade of not kissing each other. "I want you, Nathan. In every possible way, for as long as you'll have me."

My hands had travelled beneath his shirt now, stroking the smooth skin of his sides and chest; this emboldened him to slip his hands underneath my top, but he stopped short of my breasts, evidently a little unsure still. By way of encouragement, I wriggled down a little so that his hands ended up cupping them. He gave a little 'mmm' of appreciation, then checked himself, saying, "We should probably take this elsewhere."

"You're right," I said. I glanced at the others; they were still all dead to the world. I took Nathan's hand and said, "Fancy going outside? They've still got their gazebo up and it's a nice warm night."

He didn't need asking twice. When we reached the privacy of the gazebo we fell into each other's arms again, mouths and hands everywhere we could reach, clothing coming away more easily than I might have expected. When we were both naked, I sat down on the bare grass, then leaned back, smiling invitingly at him, playing the seductress to the hilt.

"Come here," I purred. Eyes smoky with lust as they drank in the sight of my body, he dropped to his knees in front of me. His cock was really impressive - rock-hard and a nice size. I reached out and took it into my hand, giving it a little rub up and down, and he groaned with pleasure, throwing his head back.

"You're so sexy," I whispered, cupping his balls as my other hand traversed the various contours of his physique. I laid a trail of kisses over his chest. "And I can't decide whether I want to suck you or fuck you."

"If your mouth goes anywhere near my cock," he said breathlessly, "I'm going to blow my load for sure. I'm having a hard time controlling myself as it is."

"Then perhaps we should give you some relief now so you can enjoy your first time without worrying," was my reply. Smiling with pleasant anticipation, I shifted position so that I was on all fours in front of him, and slowly took him into my mouth. He tasted delectable, and the little sample of precum that oozed over my tongue the moment my tongue touched him only made it better. He was breathing heavily and irregularly as my practised mouth slipped up and down his shaft, savouring every glorious inch.

"Ellie," he cried out. "Oh, I'm going to..."

And he did. He held his breath as powerful jets of cum spurted from him and straight down my waiting throat, then let the breath out in a long sigh as I greedily slurped every last drop from him, my tongue snaking all over the head and shaft of his cock and swallowed noisily.

"Mmmm, yummy," I said, smiling lasciviously up at him. "You're delicious."

I didn't expect what came next. Roughly, he pushed me down onto my back, pulled my legs open and buried his face in my cunt, licking fervently at my clit and gulping down my juices. His hands, no longer hesitant, found my breasts and began to fondle them eagerly, treating my nipples to a series of beautifully worshipful tweaks and pinches. His technique was not sophisticated, but even so the sheer passion of what he was doing was bringing me closer and closer to orgasm.

"Yes!" I half-sobbed as the tension in my pussy grew and grew, every cell feeling like a balloon that was being blown up more and more until it surely had to burst. "Oh, please Nathan, Nathan, oh God, that's so good, you're...ohhh, oh FUCK!"

That last exclamation was accompanied by a huge jolt through my entire body as I came, hard and loud, onto my best friend's lapping tongue. Through my own moans I could vaguely hear him murmuring: "That's right, gorgeous girl. That's right, moan for me. Oh, I've wanted this for so long."

"Me too," I breathed as my climax gave way to the familiar, loose, heavy feeling that said I had just been thoroughly pleasured. I held out my arms, and he lay beside me and cuddled in close. For some time, we just enjoyed the feeling of closeness. His body felt so good entwined with mine, and everything about him - the smell of his skin and hair, the taste of his sweat as I kissed his forehead lovingly, the intense adoring look in his eyes as he gazed into mine, was just so achingly perfect. We should have done this years ago. But if we had, maybe it wouldn't have been so good. Maybe he would have become, in time, just another ex. But now I knew - had probably always known - that letting him go was unthinkable. He was mine; I was his. That much was obvious and we hadn't even fully made love yet.

This thought made my pussy twitch again. I wanted - needed - to have him inside me. And he evidently felt the same, as his cock was beginning to stir again. A happy side effect of his lack of sexual experience, I thought, smiling.

"I hate to be sensible at a time like this," he said suddenly, "but what about protection?"

"Well, I'm still on the Pill," I said, "and I got checked out a few months ago. If you're happy with that, then so am I."

"Sure," he said without hesitation. "I trust you. I always have."

"In that case," I said, "on your back."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied teasingly, doing as he was told. Eagerly, I straddled him and lowered myself onto his by now fully-fledged erection. The moan of pleasure was mutual as I began to ride him, slowly at first, then more vigorously as his hands on my hips urged me on. Soon he was moving in time with me.

"Am I doing OK?" he whispered.

"A little better than just OK," I assured him; my second orgasm was starting to build already. It seemed that shy, inexperienced Nathan was a naturally good lover – not because he had a lot of fancy moves, but because his desire to give pleasure was so genuine. I felt honoured to be his first and hoped very much that I would also be his last. I had spent years getting to know him and falling in love with him, little by little, and now that the physical side was evidently just right between us as well, I had no desire to look elsewhere and hoped that he felt the same.

Thoughts of this nature were put from my mind as, at the same moment that I came for the second time that evening, he sat up and rolled me gently onto my back, even managing to manoeuvre it so that he stayed inside me. I was impressed, and not for the first time that evening. He began to thrust, a little awkwardly at first. I wrapped my legs around him and guided him to a smoother rhythm, whispering encouragement into his ear and running my fingers through his thick dark hair.

"You're amazing," I said softly. "Don't worry about performing or doing it 'right'. Just think about how good it feels, because that's what I'm doing."

His answer was to kiss me, deeply and passionately, as he allowed himself to be led by my movements; and then, as he neared orgasm himself, he forgot to be self-conscious and just let go, pounding into me harder and harder. I cried out in mingled pleasure and pain as he drove himself in as deep as he could go, and I felt his cock throb and a new sensation of warmth fill my pussy as he came, more quietly this time, but judging by his expression, just as intensely.

Afterwards, we lay and snuggled again for a long time, not speaking much – not because we felt awkward, but because we didn't. Silence was just fine. And before long I felt myself begin to slip into sleep, just in time to hear him whisper, "I love you."

"I love you too," I murmured sleepily.

When we came to, the sun was just starting to rise. It looked like another beautiful summer's day. And this one heralded the start of something even more incredible.