“B-but Elena…I-I can’t…”
“Elena loves you. She has given us her blessing.” It sounded melodramatic but this was a 23 year old catholic virgin. “Unfasten your jeans.”
Her fingers obeyed him, even while her face registered fear and apprehension. The zip broke the silence, revealing a glimpse of white cotton. The button caused her more difficulty, tight as the jeans were with his fingers crammed into them. He didn’t offer any help. She had to do this herself. It took a while but she got there. As the jeans parted, his hand advanced inside her underwear, smoothing down her pubes – lots of pubes – until he could cup her sex in his hand. The knowledge that he was the first to touch Patricia intimately was making his erection painful in his own pants. He pressed her against it.
“Tell me what you want right now.” He whispered. His fingers massaged her labia, feeling the moisture and warmth she wouldn’t be able to deny.
“I-I” She broke down in sobs again, trying to cover her face.
“Tell me.” His voice was soft, kind but insistent.
“Make me a woman!” She blurted. More catholic melodrama.
“You will give me your virginity?” He pressed the point.
“Yes.” She was still crying but there was fire in her eyes too now, a fitting match for the heat under his slick fingers. He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. Setting her on her feet again, he slipped her panties and jeans down in one swift motion, leaving them around her ankles as he urged her back onto the bed. Kneeling, he parted her knees and got his first real look at what makes a virgin. She didn’t even trim her pubic hair. Auburn curls spread all over her mons veneris and all but hid her labia. He parted the undergrowth with his fingers, drawing open like petals her outer lips. Leaning forward, he kissed the soft wet flesh before starting to lick and tease her pussy, wanting her to enjoy an orgasm to loosen her up before the painful moment of actual defloration. His delving tongue actually found her intact hymen and his cock throbbed all the harder at the realization.
Patricia lay back, lost in the sensations. Her mind was awash with thoughts of sin and guilt and all the reasons this was wrong and of her sister and her priest and … but none of the fleeting thoughts was enough to cling to in the storm of sensations that was blowing in from the nether regions. She had never experienced anything like this before. Even the few times she had touched herself, she’d felt only enough to confirm that it must be sinful and stopped. She’d confessed to the priest once and been severely chastised for defiling her body.
The sensations and delirium grew and grew until they were the only things there was any room for. Still they grew, until she felt she would explode if it didn’t stop. Then she exploded. Her whole body shook with the force of her first ever orgasm. She was too far away from reality to hear her own voice screaming in climactic abandon. The storm subsided, the following calm washed over her and she lay in the warmth of contentment, breathing heavily as Andrew ran his tongue over the very edges of her pussy, mopping up her juices and sending little aftershocks through her body.
Andrew stood and quickly undressed, freeing his rock hard-on at last. He knelt again to gently remove Patricia’s jeans and panties from around her ankles. He admired his handiwork, wishing he could capture the image for posterity – Patricia lying legs akimbo with her blouse open but still on and her little pink ankle socks. But he had a job to do. He raised her legs until her calves rested against his shoulders then shuffled closer, his cock bobbing to and fro as it inched toward her now well lubricated vulva.
Patricia finally opened her eyes as his glans nudged her hole.
“Ready?” He asked her, holding her hips in preparation for the plunge.
She nodded and he thrust forward as hard as he could, meeting only momentary resistance from her maidenhead as he tore through it and buried his cock to the hilt in her. Patricia squealed in high C at the sharp pain but Andrew remained perfectly motionless inside her, waiting for the discomfort to pass.
When she opened her eyes again, he slowly started to withdraw then, still ever so slowly, pushed back into her, watching for signs of pain.
“Does that hurt?” He asked
“A little. But it’s not bad.”
“The worst is over. You’re a woman at last. How do you feel?” He continued to stroke in and out gently.
“Sore… but wonderful.”
“See that?” He withdrew halfway and pointed to her vagina. Patricia propped herself up on her elbows to see. There was a trace of blood on his penis. “That’s the remains of your virginity.” He pushed back in, picking up the pace a fraction to test the waters. She didn’t wince so he carried on, picking up steady speed.
Patricia lay back again as the newfound sensations of pleasure warmed her and eased away the discomfort. She was feeling all warm and fuzzy inside when Andrew tensed and something scaldingly hot flooded her insides. As he relaxed, she realized he had come.
Andrew slipped out of her slick hole and stood shakily before flopping onto the bed beside her and drawing her close.
They kissed. Patricia noticed how odd his mouth tasted but it was a few seconds before it dawned on her that what she was tasting was her. The realization froze her momentarily, prompting concerned looks from Andrew. It wasn’t a bad taste though: She kissed him again. The phone rang.
Patricia practically levitated off the bed, her expression one of shock and guilt simultaneously. Reflexively, she started to fasten her blouse, only succeeding in getting it even more entangled with her bra.
Andrew made a long arm and picked up the receiver. “Hi Honey Bunny.” He took a guess it would be Elena. “…We’ve had a lovely evening. How were rehearsals?” He watched Patricia scrabbling for her knickers while Elena explained that they would be rehearsing very late and she was going to stay over at Bettina’s flat as they had last minute stuff to discuss before tomorrow’s opening night. “…Sure Honey. You have a good time. Don’t stay up too late.” Patricia had one leg back in her jeans now. “… I’m taking your sister to The Sanctuary tomorrow.” This was a personal code to tell Elena that he’d seduced her sister because he’d stressed that a full make-over was an essential part of her ‘treatment’. On the other end of the phone Elena was elated at the news. “…Yes, everything’s fine here.” Patricia was fastening her jeans. “… See you tomorrow night, Darling. Kisses.” After a few seconds more, Andrew stretched to hang up the phone and appeared to notice Patricia, fully dressed, for the first time since she’d fled his bed.
“Elena’s very happy for you. She says to tell you she loves you.”
Patricia fell to her knees and buried her face in the duvet, sobbing her heart out.
Andrew had expected this. The guilt of sleeping with her sister’s boyfriend combined with the catholic guilt of… well… being catholic, had caught up with her. He stood, bollock naked and lifted her to her feet. She struggled a little but soon clung to him, hiding her face on his shoulder and blubbering. As he held her close, he let his hands wander over her bottom and her back, stroking the curve of her spine from the nape of her neck down to the small of her back. After a few minutes, she was all sobbed out. He eased her away from his shoulder and kissed her puffy eyelids and tear streaked, still wet cheeks. When he got to her mouth, her lips slightly parted and tremulous, he kissed her forcefully, passionately, using his hands on her ass to pull her hips against his. When she started to return the kiss properly, he knew she was past the worst of the guilty feeling.
He undressed her again, unfastening the buttons himself this time, then led her into the bathroom and turned on the shower. It wasn’t a proper cubicle, just an electric shower over the bathtub and a plastic psycho curtain. However, there was room for two. He urged her under the warm water and took his time washing her thoroughly, lingering when he reached her mat of pubes. It’d been several first times for him too: First time with a virgin, first time with a girl who’d never even trimmed her hair down there and first time he’d fucked two sisters. He was feeling very good about how it had all worked out. He made sure Patricia’s pussy was clean – it had been a bit musky after a day in tight jeans and he’d given her no time to freshen up.
When he’d rinsed her off, she washed him. His penis had risen steadily as he soaped her up and she’d watched its rise with fascination. Now it firmed up under her slippery caress and the tingle of warm water. By the time he was clean, he was also ready for a second bite of the cherry.
They towelled each other off and went to bed. Patricia was very quiet as she snuggled against him and he realized that she was going to be too sore for another fuck and it was too soon to introduce her to the art of fellatio. Resigned, he closed his eyes and slept. Tomorrow was soon enough for talking and fucking. At least she’d stopped crying.
* * * * *
Patricia woke to find Andrew sitting on the side of the bed in a bath robe, sipping coffee. There was a second steaming cup on the bedside table.
“Good morning Sleepy Head.” He put down his cup and bent over to buzz her lips. “How’re you feeling today? Sore?” As he straightened up he flicked back the duvet, revealing her naked body to the knees. She instinctively tried to cover up but he caught her wrist and drew the five-finger fig leaf aside. She relaxed, easing her thighs a little as his hand sought a path between them. His fingers on her sex felt good and she spread her knees wider.
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