Hi folks. I have revisited this tale and expanded it in response to reader input. I hope you like the new version. Please vote and give feedback. Money? Got money. Want fame.
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She is eighteen today. She is a virgin. She has been obsessing about that. She wants a big man; to feel tiny in his arms. She wants it to be perfect, to be ravaged in a cultured sort of way, devoured, and turned every way but loose. She thinks Jason would be a good first lover. Jason is huge, perfect, but doesn't even know she exists. She will however, insist on a large man. She knows what she wants.
She leaves the late revelers and wanders down the long garden. The gate is closed, shadowed by the trees in moonlight. The air is cool, and a slight mist rises from the ground. She hugs herself and looks out beyond the gate at the land as it goes down to the river.
She decides she will go back, to her bedroom this time, and masturbate. Again. She will do it thinking of Jason. She will feel sexy sitting on the counterpane, nude from the waist down; slutty, vulnerable, an upward glance away from discovery. She will use only her fingers, and look at Jason.
A tiny motion blinks at the corner of her eye. A man appears to her out of the mist. He is very tall, and seems older than the other guests. He asks in a cultured way if he may come in via the gate.
"I am compelled to always ask permission."
He is wearing a Goth cape; making it look stylish again. She opens the gate for him and allows him past, shutting it behind him. He brushes lightly against her and apologizes. His name is Vladimir.
They talk there by the gate, in the moonlight, under the trees. He talks of many places, much experience; he listens to her. After a while, he kisses her, holding her face gently between his large hands. She stands on tiptoe to receive it.
They talk some more, she speaks of the callow young men she knows.
She says, "Have you had many lovers?"
"Yes."
"Tell me about your lovers."
She thinks she is clever.
"A gentleman does not discuss these matters."
She knows now she wants to be his lover, to have him for her first time.
"Do you always woo your lovers?" she asks.
"I sometimes woo, some call me to them, and some turn me away."
"How do you win them? Why do they turn away?"
"I can only show you how I win them."
He gathers her hands loosely in one of his behind her back, and then kisses her again. She is slim, eager; her hips are wide, her waist narrow. His free hand rests on her hip; his fingers cup her firm young rump.
She allows him to nuzzle her neck as the back of his free hand caresses her front. He pulls her gently in to his front, kissing her again, deeper this time, and moves her back against the iron gate, under the trees. She begins to shrink, twisting weakly away.
He stills her with another kiss, still holding both her hands gently in his at the small of her back. "You can pull free or say no anytime; I will stop and this will be over."
His free hand roams her front slowly, sliding over the fabric of her shirt, the modest swellings under it, and their smaller crisping bumps. He watches her face. Her arms quiver. She longs to break free; reach around his neck and pull him hard to her mouth.
He nibbles her neck, lifts her hands a bit and weighs her breasts with his free hand. He crushes them slowly, softly under his palm, murmuring in her ear, "Be still. I know how. I know what you want."
He breaths in her ear a long cool breath, and licks lightly around it before nipping gently.
He nibbles again at her neck as his hand slides along her collarbone, sliding down, down her front to the proud rise of her pubis where the buttons of her fly gleam in the moonlight. His fingers slide between her thighs to the center of her body and lift slightly.
The pressure feels good; she begins to soften, to moisten. Her legs tremble. He looms over her as he turns to face her again, sliding his feet in between hers and bringing her away from the gate a little step. He bends to the other ear and breathes in to it.
"Hold the gate. If you let go I will stop."
Her hands tremble, butterfly light on the cool iron as she complies. His hands, cool over hers, spread them wider on the gate. He reaches under her top to release her bra. Her breasts wait for the touch that wakes. He only just touches her nipples. They spark fire to her groin, growing tight. His hands go to the small of her back and pull her waist to his hips. His penis is hard on her belly.
He uses his feet to maneuver hers back to the gate, and wider, much wider apart. He cups her bottom and lifts her whole body against his hard cock, and kisses her deeply; his tongue searches her hot mouth. Her hot breath follows his withdrawal as he nibbles her throat with his lips, forcing her head farther back. She feels herself in her lusty pose. Randy, her arms and legs wide behind her she presses her hips forward to his cock,.
He tells her to stay like that.
His hand goes to her fly. There are five buttons, and below, a strong double sewn seam. It is tight tucked high in her groove. She has no belt, no belt loops; the jeans ride low. She has left the faint tendril of hair trail from navel to pubic hair unshaved. He pats her mound firmly. His hand rises in her crotch from below. He mashes the big bright buttons with one hand as he firms her hips from behind.
He feels her legs as a rider might feel the legs of his steed. She moans and leans in to him, glories to the pressures. This is what she imagined it would be. She is his ride, his animal, the mare to his stallion. He slips the first button free and spreads the fabric open.
She whimpers and chews her lip.
In her obsession she bought the jeans because they were nearly skin tight on top and loose in the leg. There is nothing under them tonight. The fabric is thin. It divides and displays her cunt. She has never called it cunt before, bur glories in it for what it now will be.
His hand slides again under to lift her.
"On you toes girl, I will make you my woman."
She rises, trembling, to her toes. His fingers slip the next button loose. She feels the seam twist in her wetness as he works the button. She has worn the jeans before, hoping to feel this. He looks at her erect nipples and pinches them through her shirt, pulling strongly.
"Spread wider for me."
He looms all the way over her and kisses the nape of her neck as she spreads her feet wider, staying on her toes for him, leaning her cunt to him, feeling surrounded by him. He uses one hand to support her ass as he works the next button free. His fingers slide in to her jean clad groin from the rear.
