“Um… sure.” How was this still awkward? Was it awkward for everyone? In movies, people just jumped into bed and everything worked. Were we at this camp because we were the defective ones? The ones who things didn’t always work perfectly for?
Her hand touched it gently. I kind of jerked, because the contact was so new. I was the only one who’d ever touched myself there. She pulled her hand back.
“Sorry! Did I hurt you?” She looked worried.
“No, sorry. Umm… I’m just not used to the feeling of someone other than me touching it is all.” I tried to smile at her encouragingly. “You can try again, if you’d like?”
She nodded, and reached forward again, more slowly this time. Her tongue stuck out, as if she was concentrating.
She kind of cupped it with one hand this time, and I forced myself to relax. She looked at me, and I managed a smile. It wasn’t unpleasant or anything. It actually felt kind of good, it was just very new. She brought her other hand to it, and stroked down it once, gently. My breath caught.
She looked up at my face again. “It felt good,” I assured her. She smiled, and then took a step back, letting my penis fall.
“It’s just skin!” She said in wonder.
I smiled at her discovery. I suppose it was just skin. I’d never looked at it that way before.
“You still haven’t finished, you know.”
She looked sheepishly down at her soaking panties.
“Sorry, I kind of got caught up in that. Um, here goes.” With a firm jerk, she pulled them down. After she stepped out of them, she jerked her hands as if to cover herself, but forced them to her side.
The tent wasn’t all that bright, so the area between her legs was hidden in shadow. I was intrigued, but not as brave as her.
I was intensely aware of the fact that we were naked, next to the bed we were supposed to have sex in.
“So umm, what’s next?” We said it at almost the exact same time. We bumped into each other on the way to reach for it. We were all limbs, and all awkwardness.
“Each of you in turn, take your partner’s hand, and show them what you like with it!” Our voices blended together as we read the next step out loud.
I didn’t know what to say. Thank gosh for Cassie’s courage.
“I’ll take your hand first. I already touched you a bit, so it’s fair that you get to touch me.”
She trapped my right hand in between hers. She careful guided it to one of her small breasts, and laid in on it. I felt her nipple in my palm.
With some prompting, and some demonstration, she set me to stroking her breast, teasing the nipple. She showed me how to tease it more and more, and as she did and I did her breathing became ragged. She had me play with the nipple. She had me squeeze it. “Just a bit more, just a bit more,” she breathed, and I saw pleasure and pain combine in her face. She bit her lip.
Her other hand wandered to her soaking pussy. I stopped it with my left hand. “You’re supposed to use mine,” I whispered. Her hips ground against the bed, as a denied her the orgasm she wanted. “Teach me how,” I whispered. You’re imagining a seductive whisper, I’m sure. I’ll leave you with your illusions.
She detached my hand from her breast. She showed me how to stroke above her clitoris, how to pleasure it without overwhelming her. My thumb for this, she explained, while my first two fingers went inside her moist pussy. I saw her pussy clearly now. There were layers on the outside, lips that beckoned my fingers in. All around, faint blond hair, glistening with moisture. There was a hood on top, with the little button of her clit peeking out from below. My thumb pressed down on the hood.
“Stroke the top wall. Like that, yes, just like that.” Her words made less and less sense. Coherence abandoned her. She writhed on my fingers. And then, she pushed my hand away.
“You get to be taught, so I get to be teased!” Her breathing was still fast, her hips still made little circles, but I accepted her hand, and brought it to my dick. I grabbed a squirt of lube, and slowly worked it into her palm. I showed her how to stroke. Not applying too much pressure, not yanking. Just gliding up and down my shaft. I let her set a slow rhythm to start.
I captured her nipple again, and squeezed gently. Just at the threshold before the pressure she had gone wild for. My breathing quickened. Her hand moved up and down more quickly. It felt good in a way distinct from when I did it to myself. My thoughts were less clear.
My other hand was down by her pussy, keeping her hand away from it, and never quiet pleasuring it, but always giving her the impression I was about to. Her hips kept pressing forward, and I kept withdrawing when then did.
When I began to buck involuntarily, she stopped. With an evil grin, she looked at the handout. “Now, place the condom on the male’s partner’s penis!”
She grabbed a condom (they were, as promised, next to the lube), and took it out of its wrapping. She quickly tested it, figured out which way it went, and slowly rolled it down onto my cock. It fit tightly. She went slower than she had to, and I bucked my hips a few times. Once it was on, it finally hit me that we were going to have sex. I hadn’t really realized it before.
Call me an idiot, but it just hadn’t seemed real.
“If you are both ready, place the penis inside the female partner, and continue with a rhythm that is comfortable for both of you!” The pep sounded more forced. I could hear the breathlessness beneath.
“Are you ready?” I asked her.
“I am. But let’s go slowly. No need for any damage. And besides, I don’t want to come too quickly!” She grinned ruefully. I grinned like an idiot.
She lay down on her back. Her hand held mine. I kissed her, for a minute, and then I looked down at the point where our bodies met. Using one hand, I guided myself to her entrance.
I looked into her eyes as I pressed inside of her. It took me fifteen seconds to enter her. Not because she was too tight, and not because I saw any pain in her eyes. But because I wanted to savour every moment of it, and I didn’t want her to come too quickly.
Once I was in, we took a second to get used to the feeling. It was different than masturbating. Less insistent, more all encompassing. I felt her walls squeezing me gently. I felt her hips bucking, I felt her nipples on my chest and her breath on my face. I kissed her as I pulled back out, gently, slowly. Our breathing stopped as I did. The feeling was so novel. So much gentler than what I did alone. So much more urgent.
And then I was pushing back in, and we were grinding our hips against each other, trying to get every last drop of pleasure out, and I was drawing out, and she was pushing up against me, keeping contact for as long as possible. And then control or stopping was impossible, and we were going to come no matter what happened, and we were pushing against each other and then parting and then pushing against each other as fast as we could. I bit on her shoulder, and her fingers pressed into my back, and her other hand gripped my arm so tight it hurt.
And then her pussy was gripping my dick as tightly as her hand was gripping my arm, and I was thrusting one last time, and then I was coming and cumming into the condom, and there was one fleeting moment of pure pleasure crashing over me, and then I was lying on top of her, breathless and languid. I felt like I’d run a marathon. I was contented and drawn-out. I had no ambition left in the world. I had been swept clean and purified by the wave of pleasure.
In a minute, I would wipe my slobber off of Cassie’s shoulder, and I would take my penis out of her, and I would take off the condom, and we would grab the blanket and cuddle and talk of nothing. But for now, we held each other. Two children who’d been caught up in a storm for the first time in our lives, who had survived it but been left dazed, we clung to each other because we were all we had to cling to. When I did this alone, there was that moment of perfect relaxation. I’d never considered what it would be like to share it with someone.
Later still, after we had cleaned up, and cuddled our fill, I felt hot breath as Cassie whispered in my ear. “Again?”
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