Take me, I'm ready
A sexy, romantic tale of a young woman's first time…
I can’t even look up. I saw him coming across campus as I left my bedroom, through the expanse of glass in the corridor. I bolted down the stairs, buttoned up my coat, and hid in my little corner, outside the music department, where I enjoy my last cigarette before three hours of lectures.
I know, any second, he’ll be near. He smokes, too. That’s how I first saw him, outside our first lecture last week, talking to a slim, short girl with ash-blonde hair. They know each other from before Uni, I think. They’re just friends, I hope.
‘Cold today,’ he says. The shiver I feel is not because of that. I look up, act casual.
‘Yeah,’ a little smile follows. He smiles back.
‘Stu,’ he says. I know.
‘Liz,’ I reply. ‘Or Lizzie.’
‘Not Elizabeth?’ I stub out my cigarette. ‘Not unless you’re my mum.’
He laughs. ‘Flute?’
‘How did you know?’
‘Just a feeling.’
He plays a violin, and he’s really fucking good at it. News of his talent is doing the rounds.
‘Best get in there,’ he says. I nod. ‘Coming?’
I shiver with excitement again as he waits for me to pick up my bag from the floor, and we enter the building together.
We get separated in the hustle and bustle of the corridor, and I find my new friend Lucy. She plays the violin too, and is already massively intimidated by Stu’s talent. I’ve not told her I find him attractive. We’re not that close yet. I only met her a week ago.
We head into the large rehearsal room where the music lectures take place and grab chairs, sitting in a circle, facing each other, as the professor arrives. I glance up and see him sitting opposite me. He’s looking at me, smiling. Another little smile greets him, but this one is filled with nerves because this isn’t two people politely chatting over a pre-lecture cigarette. This is him just looking at me. My body reacts strangely. It’s a feeling I don’t know. Under my black roll-neck jumper, my long blue skirt and my thick black tights, something stirs. I like it, but it also terrifies me.
I’ve not been anywhere near a boy in years — four years, in fact. I grew up in a very small town where everyone knew everyone else’s business. So when I was fifteen and involved in a scandal that followed me everywhere I went for years, I vowed to keep myself to myself until I could leave town for Uni, and hopefully never go back.
Sunday school wasn’t somewhere the girls went for religious reasons. It was somewhere we went because there were hot guys. The hottest of them all was the vicar’s son, Eric. He was nineteen. And when a fifteen-year-old me was caught in the churchyard with Eric’s tongue in her mouth and his hand up her little denim mini skirt: Scandal. I’ve kept my body covered and my distance from the opposite sex ever since.
Already, university feels different. The girl who lives to my left has already had sex with three different guys in the two weeks since we arrived. And the girl to my right had her boyfriend from home come to stay last weekend, and they were at it non-stop. The walls are paper-thin. I hear everything. There is no scandal about any of this. People just seem to do whatever they want. I can be me here, and there will be no judgment, no scandal, no recriminations.
The problem is, I’ve now reached nineteen. And even though I earned the reputation back home as the little slut who threw herself at the vicar’s son, he and I kissed once. And that was my first and only kiss.
The story of his hand being up my skirt was true, but it was on my outer thigh, and regardless of how hot I found him, that’s as far as he was going the first time we were alone, whether he liked it or not. However, he did have a reputation among some of the older girls for being good with his fingers.
So here I am, finally at Uni, kissed once, never really been touched, surrounded by confident, sexy girls with far more experience. I could be me here, but given I’ve been hiding for the last four years, I need to decide who ‘me’ is.
After the lecture, I head back to the little smoking spot alone, secretly hoping he’ll appear again. I already know he hasn’t moved away for Uni. He lives off-campus with his parents, so since that’s our one and only lecture for the day, he might just head straight home. When I’m convinced he’s not coming, I slump down, sitting against the wall, not looking particularly graceful or attractive. Then, of course, he appears. He smiles at me, then sits against the wall beside me, lighting a cigarette.
‘Tell me about Liz,’ he says.
‘What?’ I’m stunned.
‘Tell me something I don’t know.’
‘What do you know?’
Stu smiles. ‘Long blonde hair, plays a flute, likes delicate blouses and long skirts, wears DM’s, nervous, and I’m guessing a little reserved.’
I look up at his gorgeous face and blink. ‘Oh, and very pretty,’ he says. I freeze, then look away.
‘Yeah, right,’ I say. I like that he said it, though. It didn’t feel like a chat-up line. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘Everything.’
I sit in my poky little room that night with sparkly eyes, smiling to myself. We chatted for hours. Mostly about music. But he now knows I’m single, as is he. He’s easy to talk to, easy to look at, easy to be with. I let him walk me back to my room this afternoon before he left campus, so he knows where I am, too. There was a lovely little hesitation when he left, as I wondered if he would try to kiss me. I told myself beforehand that if he did, I’d let him. He’d be a good choice for my second kiss. Instead, he just looked at me, standing close. I looked back, waiting for a kiss that never came.
I receive a text. We exchanged numbers this afternoon.
‘I wanted to kiss you,’ he wrote. I felt my heart beating hard immediately. Fear and excitement combined.
‘I wanted you to.’
There’s a gentle knock on my door. It can’t be. It has to be a coincidence. It’s definitely one of the girls. But when I open it, my knees go weak. He’s standing there with two coffees in his hands. I say nothing and step aside as he enters and puts down the drinks. I close the door and lean against it. There’s a boy in my room. He turns and looks at me, and I give him a nervous smile.
‘I’d never have confessed that if I knew you were outside my door,’ I say.
‘Why not?’ he asks, taking off his coat and leaning against my desk.
I opt for honesty. ‘Because I’ve only been kissed once,’ I say, filled with embarrassment. I look down to avoid seeing his reaction and see my bare feet. I took off my shoes and tights when I got back after spending the afternoon with him. It’s nothing and something simultaneously. No boy has seen my legs in four years. The mini-skirts vanished as soon as the scandal broke. I’ve kept myself covered up since. Not that he can actually see my legs, they’re still hiding under my long blue skirt.
He steps forward. ‘Just once?’ he asks as I look back up at him. I nod, staring at him as the atmosphere in the room changes. He steps forward again. He’s close now, and my whole body tingles. I need him just to kiss me — no more conversation.
He steps forward again, his body pressing mine against the bedroom door. Electricity shoots through me as his hands raise to my hips. I hear myself sigh. I’ve wanted to be touched so often. It doesn’t disappoint.
I look up and tilt my head a little, then my world spins, and, to my surprise, I’m the one who instigates the kiss. I wrap my arms around his neck and rise onto my tiptoes as our lips part, and his tongue slides into my mouth. His hands slide from my hips and around my back, pulling me into him. We can’t get enough of each other. I have to try to tell myself to take things steady — because right now all I want in the world is him.
His hands slide up my back, pulling me tighter against him, and I pant softly into his mouth. My mind and body are at odds.
My body is getting hot, quickly, and it’s screaming at me to do anything and everything I can with him while he’s here. My mind is reminding me that the last time I kissed a boy, it ruined my life.
Eventually, I press on his chest, I have to, but I don’t want to. Stu steps back, looking at me like I’m his dream girl. I love it.
He sighs. ‘I could really get addicted to kissing you,’ he says.
I need a barrier between us — something, anything that will stop me throwing myself at him. I look at the coffees, pick up the one with a little ‘L’ on it, and look at him. ‘Americano,’ he says. I nod my approval. I had one in the cafe while we ate lunch together today.
I hold it to my lips and look up at him, wide-eyed and excited.
‘Was that really your second kiss?’ he asks. I don’t think he believes me.
I nod and take a sip, my mind racing.
‘I might be up to at least three before you leave,’ I say softly.
I know he’s got a lot more experience than I do. He told me this afternoon that his last relationship lasted over a year. It ended when she got drunk one night while out with her friends, and she ended up spending the night in a stranger’s bed. I could see the pain in his eyes as he told me. It still stings, six months on. Despite what my body is telling me, I’m not about to have sex with him tonight and remind him of her. If he thought I would, I suspect this will be over before it begins.
I sit on my bed and tuck my legs under me, and he sits on the edge of it with his coffee.
‘Can I ask, why is it only your second kiss? A girl like you must get lots of attention.’
‘I used to,’ I say. ‘Before I went into hiding.’
He gives me a quizzical look, and I decide to tell him everything.
Two weeks later, I’ve lost count of the number of kisses. We’ve been to the movies, bowling, and bars, and have now let the other students on our course know that we’re together. Lucy, who has a boyfriend, is still intimidated by Stu’s talent for playing the violin, but thinks he’s really hot, and is beside herself with excitement for me.
I’ve kept him out of my room since that first night he visited, mostly to stop myself from doing something I might regret. But as time has gone on, I have spent more and more time wanting to invite him in one evening. To see how far things go. Tonight is going to be that night.
This morning, during a break in lectures, and we were smoking in our little corner together, I looked up and made eyes at him.
‘Come to my room tonight?’ I asked, having spent all night getting nervous about suggesting it. He looked at me.
‘Are you sure?’
Simply asking the question meant that he understood what the invitation might mean. I nodded, and he kissed me. I took that as a yes.
Outfit planning has taken longer than it should. I had to stop myself in the end from buying something to wear that just advertised my desire to take things further. Casual is the way to go, I told myself.
I have some cute little black velvet boots that I’ve never worn. My mum bought them for me, hoping I’d give up on my DM’s. I want more femininity tonight, so I pull them out of the wardrobe, along with a black lacy gypsy skirt he’s never seen me wear and a fitted little blouse. My clothes generally hide my gentle curves and my ample boobs, and Stu’s been gentlemanly about not letting his hands roam too far, so wearing something that accentuates my chest and hips will be a nice surprise for him. I hope. Painted nails and a light touch of makeup finish things, then I tidy my room to distract me from my nerves until
The door knocks.
I open it excitedly to see my new man, my first boyfriend, looking handsome and smiling at me. His eyes drift to my outfit. ‘Wow, you look…’
I beckon him in and close the door.
With my back to the lamp, the only source of light in the room, I know he can see through my skirt to an extent.
‘You do have legs,’ he says, eyeing the silhouette through the fabric. I raise my fingers to my lips.
‘Shhh. Keep my secret, and I might let you see them,’ then quickly add ‘sometime.’
He wraps me in his arms and kisses me deeply, and my nerves immediately make way to something else: A warm, pleasant feeling between my thighs that I’ve been having a lot in the last few weeks. ‘How about tonight?’ he asks.
They are shaved, moisturised and ready. I have every intention of letting him feel and see my legs tonight. ‘We’ll see,’ I reply.
He steps away from me and kicks off his shoes, then sits on my bed, eyeing me. He’s seeing the size and shape of my breasts for the first time, but he dares not mention it. The look in his eyes tells me he wants me. He beckons me towards him, and I straddle his lap. As he kisses me, his hand slides to cup my breast. It’s thrilling. And it’s then that I know I’m going to offer myself to him this evening.
I lean back and look at him, lifting his other hand to my other breast.
‘Assume everything is a yes, unless I say no,’ I whisper. Stu tilts his head. To prove my intent, I reach behind me and unclip my bra, then slide his hand under my blouse, and the bra, and rest it on my bare breast, panting a little as I feel his skin on mine. Stu reaches for the bottom of my blouse, and I smile, raising my arms to let him pull it over my head. His eyes sparkle as I cast aside my bra. He leans forward, taking a nipple between his lips, and I’m in heaven. I don’t notice him loosening the little bow holding up my skirt.
A few moments later, with sensitive nipples and a fire burning between my legs, Stu presses against my hips, sliding me off his lap. It’s when I stand before him that I realise my skirt feels loose at my waist. He reaches out to it and gently slides it over my hips. It falls around my velvet boots, and I watch his eyes scan my legs and the white satin thong I bought yesterday, especially for the occasion. The self-consciousness of standing in only my thong and boots hits me, but Stu looks up. ‘I can’t believe you hide yourself. You’re stunning.’
His hands slide to my hips, and he leans forward, planting a gentle kiss just below my navel. I nearly explode.
Stu stands, and I step out of the skirt. I’m keeping my boots on until he takes them off. When we’re standing, the height of my heels keeps my mouth closer to his.
He gently lies me down on the bed, looking longingly at me as I extend my legs and smile up at him, no longer caring that I’m almost naked.
He peels off his t-shirt, then reaches for his belt, but stops. I bite my lip and nod, so he continues.
Soon, he’s just in his underwear, and I can’t notice the outline of his hardness, straining against the fabric.
He climbs slowly onto the bed beside me, almost as if he’s trying not to scare a startled animal into running. I’m not running. I’m precisely where I want to be.
His hand finds my hip as soon as his lips meet mine. I sigh and press my hand against his chest, caressing it with my fingertips. His hand moves down my outer thigh, then moves inwards. He looks into my eyes as he kisses me, watching for a reaction as his hand slips between my legs and slowly begins to rise. When his fingertips graze against me through the satin, I immediately arch my back and sigh into his mouth.
‘Okay?’ he asks.
‘Hmm,’ I reply. Stu’s fingertips slide upward and under the waistband, grazing over the trimmed mat of hair, then he finds my clit. He’s gentle, but it’s enough to change my life.
He leans over me a little more, and I realise the thing resting on the back of my hand is his cock. I rotate my wrist, wanting to feel it, and I take it in my hand through his underwear.
‘Can I take these off?’ he asks, tugging gently at my underwear.
‘Yes,’ I whimper. ‘If you take yours off too.’
Ten seconds later, we’re both naked, apart from my boots, of course. I prop myself up on my elbows, staring curiously at the first cock I’ve seen. Stu takes my hand and guides it to his cock. I look at him and wrap my fingers around it. We both sigh. I feel the urge to move my wrist a little. I may have avoided men, but I know the drill. He stares into my eyes as I begin to jerk him slowly. His hand slides between my slightly open legs, and as I watch myself jerking his cock, he watches his fingers gently explore previously untouched parts of my body. It’s a sensory explosion. Then a single finger enters me gently, slowly, and a switch flips inside me, and my hand flies to his wrist, pulling his finger in deeper.
‘Oh, God!’ I cry out, spreading my legs wider. Stu removes his finger and moves until we’re top to toe beside each other. He smiles at me and leans over between my open thighs. I know immediately what he’s going to do. I glance at his cock, inches from my face, and wonder if I should put it in my mouth just to muffle my moans, if nothing else.
I hear Stu moan approvingly between my legs. I’m not sure if it’s the scent of my innocence or the scent of my arousal, but he breathes in deep and likes it.
I raise my fingertips to his cock. It looks huge and intimidating, but I have nothing to compare it to. I wonder how much it will hurt and shudder. But then I’m transported to another world as his tongue makes contact, gently probing my soft, pink flesh. My body goes rigid and then begins to shake as he explores me gently and slowly. Stu looks up at me, smiling, his lips glistening.
‘You make the cutest noises when you’re horny,’ he says. I grab the pillow and cover my face. The embarrassment of being on display like this for the first time in my life is catching up with me.
Stu dips his head again, his tongue finding my entrance and slipping inside a little. My whole body spasms. It’s too much, and I sit up, looking down at my sexy boyfriend’s face, as his head rests between my open legs. It’s an amazing sight.
I reach for his cock once more, taking it in my hand. Stu gets up and kneels between my knees, sitting quietly as I stroke it gently, studying it, getting to know it a little. The urge overcomes me. I don’t look up at him before I move for fear of backing out. Instead, I simply lean forward and open my mouth.
‘Oh, Liz,’ he mutters approvingly as I taste him nervously. I look up.
‘This okay?’
‘More than okay,’ he replies, stroking my hair. I look down and take him back in, this time a little deeper, sucking on him and sliding up and down a little. I like it. I really like it. Clearly, Stu does, too.
After a few minutes of getting all dreamy and sucking on him, Stu strokes my shoulder. ‘There’s only so long you can do that for unless you’re thirsty,’ he says. I’m thrilled that my first blow job has made him want to come in my mouth, but we both know that’s not where this ends.
I sit up and lick my lips. ‘Another time then,’ I say softly.
It’s time.
I lie back, with my arms by my sides, my legs open, with Stu still kneeling between them. He reaches for his jeans, pulls out the condom wrapper, and watches for any sign of nerves in my face as he tears it open. I watch with fascination as he rolls it down the length of his cock. I already have a pang of regret. A regret that this is necessary. A regret that after nineteen years on earth, my first experience of sex is going to be marginally sterilised by a sliver of latex between us. If this is as much fun as I hope it is, I’ll be on the pill immediately.
Stu leans over me, looking into my eyes. ‘You have to talk to me. It’s going to hurt for a while, and I need you to guide me until it feels better.’
I nod. ‘I’m ready.’
It turns out, I’m not. As Stu gently presses against me, pressure builds and builds. It’s painless until it releases, and he passes inside. Then the pain is white-hot as his cock tears me, deflowering me, making me a woman.
I grab the pillow and bite down on it, the pain making me want to scream. Stu withdraws a little.
‘No!’ I say, forcing myself to cast the pillow aside. ‘I want you.’
The burning sensation subsides a little, and the stretching starts. It’s the most beautiful sensation to feel him sliding deeper and deeper into me. It almost takes away the pain that still lingers at my entrance.
My whimpers are real. Part pain, part pleasure. Stu is still, his body resting against mine. All of him is inside me now. He’s waiting patiently for me to settle, to adjust.
I’m panting hard, but the burning sensation is slowly subsiding. Stu kisses my forehead. ‘If it’s too much.’
‘No,’ I insist softly. ‘It’s not enough.’ He tilts his head quizzically. I smile. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be moving?’
He gets my little quip and laughs. ‘Well, if you’re ready?’
I spread my legs a little wider. ‘I’m ready.’
I always anticipated sex as being a fast, body-clashing, sweaty event. Maybe it will turn into that. But tonight, Stu is gentle, caressing my body and kissing me as he slowly slides in and out of me. I just stare into his eyes with a wide smile, panting and whimpering as he enjoys watching my reactions to having him inside me. It’s magical. So magical that I don’t notice him very gradually upping his pace and depth until he raises his body off mine and begins to drive into me a little harder. I look down between my legs, thrilled at the sight and feeling of his cock sliding into my body over and over. I feel something amazing building inside me. It scares me, not knowing where it ends or how loud I’ll be.
‘I think you’re going to make me…’
‘Come?’ he asks. I nod. That would have felt embarrassing to say out loud.
‘Let it happen,’ he says. His encouragement is all I need, and I let the sensation build.
‘Oh, God!’ I say, as my body starts to quiver.
‘Let it go, sweetie,’ he encourages again.
I do, and my eyes roll, tears streaming down my face as I wrap my legs around him and pull him into me for all I’m worth.
‘I’m coming,’ I mutter. No embarrassment now.
‘Me too,’ he replies.
I cry out, shaking and shuddering, coming hard as Stu groans, pounding into me harder than he has. After one final, deep, slightly painful but utterly beautiful thrust which shakes the bed, Stu quivers deep inside me, his body going rigid as he comes.
I look up at him sheepishly. Embarrassment returns. He’s seen me at my most vulnerable. He kisses me, then seems to hold the condom as he slides off my body and lies next to me.
I look at the ceiling, out of breath, then at him. ‘How was your first time?’ he asks, teasing one of my nipples with his fingertips.
My smile is so wide my cheeks hurt. ‘So good I’m already looking forward to my second.’