My (almost) First Time

"I love this movie! Let's go home and watch it." you said.

A noble goal. But my mind was already in the gutter. I don't know a lot about you, but I know you have a thing for sexy vampires. I know you have a little bit of a pain fetish. A thing for control. And I think it's so fucking hot.

Horror isn't really my thing, but I don't even argue because I'm not really planning on watching the movie...

We head back to your room, pop the DVD in, slip into comfy flannel pajamas, and settle down on your bed to watch. We sort of spoon, you lying on your side behind me, your whole body pressed against my backside.

Right away, the heat is too much. I am too aware of you, breathing in my ear, your breasts rising and falling against the blades of my shoulders, your right hand hot as it glides from my ribs to my hipbone. God, why is my heartbeat speeding up? Can you hear it pounding in my chest?

Ten minutes into the movie and I have to roll on to my stomach. I have to put some space between us, make you reach just a little farther to get to me. Give my chest some room to expand. Cool the air near my face. I am suddenly grateful that the lights are off and my flushed cheeks are only visible by the light from the TV.

Your hand falls squarely on my ass.

"hmmmmmm..." you purr in my ear. Oh. That was not part of the plan. I try to control the shiver that runs from the base of my spine to the top of my head. You rub over the curve of my ass, down over my thighs. I think Gary Oldman is trying to hypnotize Winona Rider, and Keanu Reeves is running around confused. Or something. All I can really focus on is the feel of your knuckles across that spot, low in my back, that starts that warm thrumming between my legs.

I feel the muscles between my hipbones twist with arousal as you move your hand lower. You drop between my thighs, tracing the outline of my pussy through the loose material of my plaid pajama pants. You find the cleft between my lips and run your middle finger up and down, lightly putting pressure on my clit. Without thinking, without meaning to, I push my legs apart. I press my pelvis into the mattress and groan softly.

Suddenly, my clothes are twisted uncomfortably around my body. They're too small and too hot and I can feel a cool bead of sweat slipping down the center of my back. Every squirm, every breath tenses my muscles, coiling tighter. My skin is too tight and my bones feel like jelly and every nerve is sparking under your touch. And it feels incredible...

God, it's too much. I can't hold still. And you are everywhere. I smell your hair and feel you breathe in my ear and hear you suck in air when my body tenses each time my hips roll against the matress. As your finger reaches up to graze my clit, my eyelids lower. My body pulses with each wave of arousal that washes over me.

I sit up on my elbows to look down at you. Your eyes are dark and your lids are half closed. You focus on my face only gradually. You raise your eyebrows and give me a lopsided grin. "Everything okay?" you ask with feigned innocence.

I would glare, but it seems I have lost all control over my face. My jaw is slack, my eyes locked on the dip between your collar bones, pupils blown wide with lust. I can see the light reflecting off the highlights in your hair, fanned out over the pillow behind you. You smell like soap and trees and powder and something earthy and unnameable that I can't get enough of. I need to be closer to you. I drop my head down to nuzzle your neck. Something flutters in my chest when you moan and your breath hitches. You roll your head away and arch your back, pressing harder between my legs.

"You have to stop that" I murmur into your neck, my voice hoarse with arousal. You sigh as my lips brush under your ear.

"You want it bad," you say, "your voice is gone." You say it in a way that tells me you are impressed with yourself. Proud that you could have reduced me to this puddle of desire and misjudgment with just a few caresses.

I have to control your hands or I will give in and let you win. I pin you to the bed with my knees, straddling you, looming over you and casting a shadow over your features. I feel like I have won a temporary victory, forcing your to submit to me on your back like this. I know that I should extricate myself from this situation before you wear me down. But your smell is so intoxicating, and when you open your eyes and look at me, suddenly my limbs are far too heavy to even contemplate moving. All I can do is press my pelvis into your thigh. I hope you don't notice how enthusiastically I am rubbing against you, but at the same time I like the look in your eye when you see what you're doing to me.

I am off-balance, leaning all my weight on my pelvic bone. And you are stronger than I anticipated. Or maybe I lack the strength I thought I had. You roll me over with ease, bending one of my legs at an awkward angle so you can hold my arms above my head, keep me submissive and panting beneath you. I twist in pain, trying to free the leg that's trapped beneath me. As I lift my knee, your hips drop between my legs.

"Aaaahhh..." I hiss as your pelvic bone rubs across my clit. Fuck, that feels good. I roll my hips again, desperate for more friction. The thick fabric of your sweatpants is in the way. You know it too, but you're far from defeated.

You roll off me. I quash the urge to whine at the loss of your weight on top of me. You reach out a hand and brush the tips of your fingers over the soft strip of skin visible between the bottom of my t-shirt and the top of my pants. On the second pass, you dip below the waistband, combing lightly through the hair just above my mound.

God, I can't handle it. I can feel wetness slipping over my lips as I squirm beneath your ministrations, trying to urge you lower. I hear myself keening quietly in the back of my throat. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to will your fingers to venture down over my lips, to slip between them and find the head of my clit.

"Tell me you want me to touch you" you whisper huskily in my ear. "I need to hear you say it."

I open my eyes. Suddenly, I realize where I am. I hear the movie over the sound of my own breathing. It occurs to be that making the next move could change our relationship forever. I am no longer swept away, I am panicked.

"I--can't..." I choke out the words, barely able to speak. I feel my throat closing, and it feels like a fist is squeezing my heart. I have to sit up, get away from your lips and eyes and hair and...everything. "God, I'm so--" I begin, but I don't have the words. "I have to go" I finish lamely.

I stand up stiffly, leaving you lying on the bed. I have no idea what your face looked like, because I am afraid that if I looked back, I wouldn't be able to leave.

I practically sprinted to my room down the hall. I dove under the covers, as if that would provide some kind of reliable barrier to prevent me from rushing back to finish what we'd started. My breathing will not slow down. My thoughts race, disjointed by overwhelming arousal. I reach down to touch myself. I find that I am soaked, and the muscles in my abdomen are still wound like a spring.

Within minutes, I am gripping the headboard with my left hand, rubbing little circles over the head of my clit with my right, and screaming through what is maybe the most intense orgasm of my life. I deliberately cry out, knowing you are awake in the next room. At the back of my mind, it occurs to me that I wish it were your fingers, or the tip of your pelvic bone, rubbing against my pussy instead. And secretly, I hope you're touching yourself in there and thinking of me.