"April's First" {Uther} (mf 1st rom pett) 

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to read electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do 
something else.

This material is Copyright, 1997, Uther Pendragon.  All rights 
reserved.  I specifically grant the right of downloading and 
keeping ONE electronic copy for your personal reading so long as 
this notice is included.  Reposting requires previous 
permission.

All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as 
public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination 
and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly 
coincidental.


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                          April's First
                       by Uther Pendragon
                    nogardneprethu@gmail.com


Her parents had already chosen the name, April, when she 
surprised them by arriving on March 26. They had been much too 
busy dealing with her to consider another name. April liked her 
name, but had often considered choosing another birthday. This 
March 26th, however, she was turning sixteen; waiting any longer 
would have been torture. 

Brian, seven months older and already licensed, drove her to 
the state facility after school. "Right hand side," he said as 
she left the building with her learner's permit clutched in her 
hand. Brian knew his April. 

"You're a licensed driver," she replied, though she did get in 
the passenger's side. "It's legal." 

"Your father would kill me! It's rush hour, and that piece of 
paper doesn't mean that you know how to drive." 

"When it's something *you* want to do, you don't care 
that my father would kill you." Of course, she knew, her father 
would kill her first if he knew that she let Brian kiss her 
breasts and stroke between her legs. At least he would ground her 
for life. But the exquisite sensations were worth the risk. 

"When it's something I want to do," he pointed out, 
"*you* don't care that it's legal when you're sixteen." 
Brian was making debating points with half his mind. The rest was 
concentrating on the driving. His desire for April, never really 
absent, was far below his consciousness. 

April hadn't thought about sex as legal or not. She enjoyed 
everything she did with Brian, but feared the next step. And 
desired the next step. And wanted to be a woman. And didn't want 
to be a bad girl. She loved Brian, and wanted to be with Brian 
forever, and wanted a life before she was tied down. Brian had 
enticed her, rather than pushing her, into each step. But they 
never went back. She loved the sensations he could evoke, and 
everything she read told her that the best was yet to be. But she 
rather liked having some limits, something in the future. And the 
first time *hurt*. "That's not the same," she said 
slowly. 

"It's your comparison. Anyway, save a little of your 
excitement for the party tonight. 'What was your favorite 
birthday gift, April?' 'The only one I care about came from the 
Secretary of State.' That would throw a real damper on your 
party." 

Her mind freed from the labyrinth of desire-and-reluctance, 
she contemplated instead the simple joys of anticipated fun, 
anticipated attention, and anticipated gifts. "So, what are you 
giving me?" she asked. 

"Well, you know I have a rule against telling before you open 
the package; but this year you'll already have guessed. My gift 
was a ride to the State License Facility." 

"Liar. Tease." 

"I love you, Ape. That's no lie." 

"I love you, too. But I want to know now." And she did want to 
know now. She also wanted to be surprised. The good thing about 
Brian was that she could tease and tease. He would still surprise 
her. 

"Well, I thought of buying you a car in case you survive 
Driver's Ed. But Mom refused to raise my allowance two thousand 
percent. So I settled on a postcard for the next time your 
parents cut you off from the phone." 

"Meany! Anyway, you are on the other end of most of my long 
phone calls. Tell me! I'll leave the car without kissing you if 
you don't." She withdrew the threat when it didn't work. Their 
kiss was long and sweet, worthy of sending Brian off to war. 
Instead, he was at her door three hours later for her birthday 
party. 

When the party was in full swing, the time came to open his 
gift. It really did contain a postcard, but the card had a charm 
bracelet taped to it to muffle the tiniest rattle. The single 
charm was a car. 

Brian's humor was notorious, as were April's phone-time 
violations. So the attention of the party focused on the 
postcard. A charm bracelet was more significant to April than 
anyone in the room realized. Her great aunt had shown one to her 
on a long afternoon, a biography kept in a box. Even though 
Great-Aunt Amber had skipped over two stories, April had felt 
deeply honored at being allowed to share so much of that life. 
Since her sister Carla hadn't received that honor, April hadn't 
mentioned it to her. Brian was the only person that she had ever 
told. He had sensed what she didn't say, which was that she 
wanted to be able to hold her own life on her wrist one day. 

Brian held his breath. He was her steady, which was a 
temporary arrangement. The bracelet, meant to hold her life, had 
to be a gift from someone significant in her whole life. He 
wanted to be that significant to her; he wondered if he was. He 
desperately hoped that he was. 

She saw the hope and fear in his eyes, and immediately needed 
to kiss away the fear. The gift had nearly brought tears to her 
own eyes. She crossed to him and said "Thank you." She had 
intended a light kiss, but her emotion overcame her. 

She was suddenly conscious of her nipples' sensitivity as they 
firmed against his chest. She was conscious of his erection 
growing against her leg as she opened her mouth to his tongue. 
She was conscious of her own moistness as his tongue found hers. 
She was belatedly conscious of the whistles of their friends. She 
and Brian broke the kiss to look into each other's eyes for a 
moment that was hundreds of times more erotic than the kiss. Love 
was in his eyes, and a desperate plea that she would find him 
worthy to be significant in her life. How could she not? She'd 
shared the secret with him alone. 

"Put it on my wrist, would you?" she said. His relief showed 
that he had heard the acceptance she had intended. 

"What was all the excitement?" her mother asked from the 
doorway. 

"Isn't this a marvelous bracelet?" April said. "Brian gave it 
to me." 

"Yes dear, it's lovely. Does everyone have enough to eat? I 
think I'll stay and see the other presents opened." She did, 
without hearing any more whistles. April was properly 
appreciative of each gift and more appreciative of her friends 
and their pleasure. 

At the end of the night Brian stood with April's sister Carla 
as April and her mother said goodbye to the guests at the door. 
Carla started to clean up the mess as the last couple left. Brian 
carried one load into the kitchen for her. "Two minutes," said 
April's mother when he got back. "It's a special day." 

April walked him out. "I love you," he said when the door was 
safely shut. 

"I love you, too," she responded. "More than two minutes can 
tell." When the porch light went out, they melted into each 
other. His tongue searched her mouth as his hands clasped her 
hips. Hard nipples and wet crease told her of her excitement; his 
erection told both of them of his. She ground her belly against 
it as his hand came around to her front. He reached her mound 
just as the lights came back on. She jumped back and grabbed his 
hands, but then she squeezed them tight. "We'll talk." 

"We'll talk," he agreed, and kissed each of her hands before 
letting go of them. He walked a little awkwardly toward his 
house, turned sideways in hopes of hiding his groin from April's 
parents. 

She helped clear the worst of the mess and start the first 
load of dishes. "Was it all right, dear?" her mother asked. "I 
know the Easter holidays made it difficult." 

"It was lovely, Mom. Really it was. The party was great, even 
if it was a school night. I can't blame you for that. I know that 
you wanted to hold it on the fifth." 

"I very much wanted another child, but the date wasn't 
critical. It was the *doctor* who said that you'd be born 
April Fifth. Carla was a week late. How was I to know that you'd 
be impatient all your life? I was surprised when you decided to 
be born on the 26th, not disappointed." It was an old subject, 
they could continue the dialogue even when they were out of 
earshot. Soon her mother said, "We'll vacuum tomorrow. Go to 
bed." 

They headed upstairs. April was dressed for bed when she heard 
Carla's unique knock. She let her in and lay under the covers on 
one side of the bed. Carla took the invitation to sprawl on the 
other side before she spoke. "What happened, Sib?" 

They'd been referred to as "siblings" when April was eight and 
Carla fourteen. That led to the joint nickname and, much later, 
to the rule that talk under that label was absolutely 
private. 

"Don't be hurt?" April began. Carla nodded curtly. "Great Aunt 
Amber has a charm bracelet. Every charm has a story. She told me 
most of them back last summer when she visited. I couldn't tell 
you because I was afraid that you would mind that she told me and 
not you." 

"I'm not hurt. She likes you better, but you like her better 
than I do, too. It's not like being Mom's favorite, or Dad's, or 
even Gramp's." 

"Anyway, it was like magic. The charms weren't expensive, but 
each held a story. The bracelet held her whole life. Each charm 
was significant; each was given her by a significant person. I 
told Brian the story, back then. What was nice, was he remembered 
and could tell that I wanted something like that. What he was 
asking was 'Do I think he is significant in my life?' I figure he 
is. He was also saying that he wanted to be." 

"I would think he's significant," said Carla. "You spend more 
time with him than at home." 

"You sound like Mom. Look, Sib, who was your steady when you 
turned sixteen?" 

"Hmmm? Sixteenth birthday? Joey. Remember him? Coached you in 
basketball sometimes." 

"Is he significant in your life?" 

"Not anymore." Carla waited for more. None came. "I see what 
you mean. So you think that Brian may be permanent?" 

"I'm sure that he is permanent. I'm sure that he's sure that 
we're permanent. I'm not sure that our being sure is a guarantee. 
I watched you, remember?" 

"Was I that bad an example, April?" 

"Sib, you were a great example. I'm trying to be Carla. But 
you were in and out of love a lot." 

"You'll never be Carla, lucky you. Try to be April. You're in 
love with Brian?" 

"And in lust with him." 

"You haven't?" 

"Nothing has changed since we last talked. ... Except the 
bracelet. We still do everything else but. Does it hurt the first 
time?" 

"I did, and cried on your shoulder. And you never told. Thank 
you, Sib." 

"You've done it for me loads of times. Brian said something, 
though." Carla looked interested. "You're a paralegal and all. 
Brian wouldn't let me drive home when I got the permit." 

"Sib, you are an idiot. I can tell you didn't drive home, 
you're still alive." 

"Well, I pointed out that it was legal." 

"I don't know about that one. There might be some obligation 
for the licensed driver to use good judgment. Why else have him 
along? Want me to look it up?" 

"No. Brian said that other things were legal when I turned 
sixteen but I wasn't rushing to do them." 

"Not quite true. Yesterday, it didn't count whether you said 
'yes' or 'no.' He'd still be committing a felony. Tomorrow it 
matters what you say. Are you thinking of saying 'yes'? He should 
know that age doesn't matter if you say 'no,' to him." 

"Brian's not like that. So the law is all about him, and not 
about me. I'm not thinking enough about saying 'yes,' if you know 
what I mean. Every time I'm with him, even the two minutes on the 
porch -- that went awfully fast, by the way. Did Mom change her 
mind?" 

"I handled the light switch. You had two and a half minutes, 
not counting the time before I turned it off. Anyway ..." 

"Anyway," April cut her off, "every time I'm with him, I 
really don't feel like stopping. Then I feel all scared of going 
on. Does it always hurt the first time?" 

"My first time hurt like hell. I don't know about anybody 
else's. I was eighteen, and I came back to cry in the arms of my 
thirteen-year-old little sister because there wasn't anybody else 
I could tell. And I went on to have several romances where it 
didn't cause pain, but ecstatic pleasure. Then I fell in love 
with my boss who is happily married to a pregnant woman who is 
perfectly nice to me every time she calls and whom I hate with a 
passion. And my little sister has had more romance in her life 
than I have for the last six months, and more sex, too. And I 
don't know if it hurt anyone else." 

"Look," April said, "I'm sorry about this." 

"No. You aren't to blame. Jeff Benton isn't to blame. Mrs. 
Benton isn't to blame." 

"And you aren't to blame. You haven't done one thing 
wrong." 

"That's because I haven't done one thing. Anyway, the law says 
that you weren't competent to give consent last week, but you 
will be next week. That's about you. That doesn't mean that you 
should, or even that the law permits you to have sex. What it 
means is that it makes a difference whether you say 'aye' or 
'nay'." 

"And which do you think that I should say?" 

"'Nay.'" 

"Huh? My non-judgmental sister?" 

"That's a decision that you can change," Carla pointed out. 
"The other one isn't. Besides, when you want my advice, you 
aren't ready to take that step." She got up. "Sleep tight, Sib." 
April, to her own surprise, did. 

She and Brian couldn't really talk seriously at school the 
next day, but the day after was Good Friday and school was out. 
Brian drove her over to the school parking lot and let her drive 
in low gear. In the pauses, they talked. "The gift was sweet, but 
did you really mean that you want to be someone I'll remember at 
sixty?" she asked. 

"Ape, I want to be someone you *talk to* at sixty." He 
loved her. Couldn't she see that? 

"You scare me." He did. She was terribly frightened of saying 
that she felt that way, of saying that she didn't. 

"That isn't a proposal. It's what I want. That's what you 
asked, after all." And it was what he wanted, one thing he 
wanted. 

"I'm still scared," she said. 

"Never be afraid of me. Look, this isn't getting us anywhere. 
Let's try again, and this time move the wheel half as far as you 
think that it needs to move." Inevitably, however, they did talk 
more, then and Saturday. Sunday was Easter and a family day. 
Monday night, Brian took her to the movies. Afterwards, they 
parked in a very secure place. 

For a while, they shared the back seat while they kissed and 
hugged. Then, she had the whole seat -- but still needed to bend 
her knees too much -- while Brian knelt on the car floor beside 
her. He eased her jeans and panties down to her ankles but 
started again to kiss her mouth. His hand stroked her thigh while 
his tongue licked hers. She wanted his caresses, she wanted more, 
she wanted him to talk sweetly to her as he used to when these 
caresses were new. When she parted her thighs wider, he stroked 
up to their junction. She gasped into his mouth as he clasped her 
there. 

"I love you, Ape," he said. He did love her, and he wanted 
her, and he wanted to speak of his desire, but he knew that she 
wanted to hear of his love. He parted her lower lips and dipped 
his fingers into her moisture. His mouth switched to her breast. 
They both were silent as he licked her nipples and stroked her 
clitoris until she tightened in preparatory agony. He had to keep 
himself from rushing it. He thirsted for her response, and he 
ached for her fingers to bring his own. When he saw that she was 
about to begin, he thrust two fingers into her and sucked hard on 
her nipple. His thumb brushed circles over her clitoris while she 
bucked and gasped through her climax. 

The tension pulsed through her like storm waves hitting shore. 
She loved him, she wanted him. He continued to stroke her until 
she collapsed. 

"I do love you, darling April," he said. At that moment, he 
loved her more than life itself. "I'll love you forever. Can't 
you believe that?" 

"I love you, too, Brian," she said. She loved him with all her 
heart, and she wanted him more than that. "God! I wish we had 
something." 

"I do," he said. "Do you mean that?" 

She had when she said it. She wondered if she did still. She 
did, but she was cramped, and the clock was ticking. She started 
to struggle back into her clothes. 

He was ecstatic for one second. They were going to do it. He 
was going to do it. He loved her. And wanted her, and wanted 
desperately to be a man, and wanted to claim her as his. Then he 
saw what she was doing. "You didn't mean that." 

"I meant that. I wish we could. But not here. And we have 
what? Fifteen minutes to get me home." Why had she said that? Why 
had she said it then? Why hadn't Brian, supposedly so empathetic, 
understood that it was a *wish* not a promise. 

"You didn't have to say it if you didn't mean it." Brian was 
already getting behind the wheel. April got out, redid her bra, 
and straightened her other clothes. "I meant it when I said that 
I love you." 

"I meant it, Brian. I love you and I want to show you that I 
love you. A girl's first time is special. It should be a special 
person and a special place. You are a special person; you are 
important to me. But ..." 

"But that would have been a horrible place," Brian was already 
driving close to the speed limit. The evening was over. "I can 
live with that. I can't find you a special place with silk sheets 
and champagne in an ice bucket. You couldn't get out overnight 
even so. It's just cruel to say that you would do it under 
impossible conditions." 

She usually took care of Brian after he took care of her; this 
time she hadn't, and now it was too late. He was taking all this 
in quite the wrong spirit. She dreamed of walking down the aisle 
with Brian, why was it wrong to dream of going to bed with him? 
But he treated sharing that dream as if it were an attack on him. 
"Not impossible. Just not there. I do love you." 

Boys, Brian suddenly saw, spoke of love to justify sex; girls 
spoke of it to justify abstinence. Was he any better? Well, yes. 
He wanted April on a permanent basis, marriage; it was just that 
this permanent basis wasn't possible. "I love you, too," he said. 
"I wish I could just take you home. 'This is my woman, world; 
what do you want to do about it?' But that's a twin bed with 
cracks in the plaster over it. That's not special either." 

April had a vision of a caveman dragging her off, but Brian's 
possessiveness was attractive as well. "I wish that I could take 
you home, too; but they would never understand. I'd be more 
nervous about them pounding on the door than about a stranger 
coming by when we were back there." 

"My room isn't a special place, but I do have privacy until 
Mom gets home around six-thirty." He was desperate now. 

"You're serious?" she asked. "Yes, you are serious." 

"I'm one hundred percent serious. The question is are 
you?" 

April thought that this wasn't really the question. She 
seriously loved Brian; she seriously wanted to be a woman. She 
also seriously wanted to avoid pain; she seriously wanted to 
avoid being a slut. She seriously wondered whether she was ready 
for this; she seriously wondered if she ever would *really* 
be ready. 

If she were going to do it, she thought, this was the right 
time. She knew the joke about what you called people who used the 
rhythm method, but she wanted her timing to be safe, anyhow. 
She'd have her period Thursday, maybe Wednesday. She didn't want 
to be messy her first time, nor wait for weeks suspecting she'd 
caught despite everything. If she were going to do it, tomorrow 
was best. 

Lord! She was thinking of doing it. He was special, could he 
be any more special? Waiting for the right man made sense; 
waiting longer with Brian didn't. He was the right man. She hoped 
he was the right man. 

Brian had stopped thinking. The only thing in his mind was a 
picture of April in a bed. He drove while she sat silent beside 
him. 

She took a deep breath and said, "I'll ring your bell tomorrow 
after school." 

"Tomorrow?" he gasped. "Oh, my love. I do love...." He slammed 
on the brakes and turned to face her in the unmoving car. 
"Tomorrow! Ape you wouldn't! Look, I know that you love April 
fool jokes.... Between your name and your birthday, who can blame 
you?  ... But you wouldn't play that game on me, would you? 
There's Brian waiting in his house, and April doesn't come, and 
doesn't come, and then she shows up with half a dozen 
girlfriends." 

"I wouldn't do that to you. You're special to me. I can see 
doing that. Believe me, I can see it; but this is too important 
to me to make a joke of it. Look, start the car will you. I have 
to get home. If I get grounded, I won't come over tomorrow." 

They made it just in time. For the first time in months, April 
left his car without a good-night kiss. April spent the night 
regretting her rash promise. She decided that the bracelet was 
causing her to make Brian more significant than he really was. If 
she lost her virginity to him, that made him significant. She was 
tempted to throw away the bracelet and wait. But that was 
ridiculous; she loved Brian, loved the way he could make her 
feel. Could another boy make her feel like that? In some ways, 
certainly; but loving Brian was part of the feeling. In any case, 
going to Brian's tomorrow was less sluttish than going looking 
for another boy to make her feel that way. 

Brian had received no relief. He headed straight for his room 
when he got home. While he stripped, he pictured April in his 
bed. That was great, but anticipation would be better. He 
pictured her entering his room, pictured himself removing her 
blouse, pictured her looking about his room, pictured her being 
appalled at the mess. 

That would be horrible. He started straightening his room. He 
put on his robe to take all the fragrantly dirty clothes from his 
corner to the laundry baskets in the basement. He grabbed a clean 
set of sheets and pillow case, but decided to wait until morning 
to change the bed. The *Playboy*s went into his closet. 
While there, he gathered all the loose hangers and shoved the 
clothes to one side. Then he hung up everything that was sitting 
around loose. He fetched a condom from the hiding place, placed 
it in the drawer next to his bed, and dropped a paperback book on 
top of it. 

With all the preparation that could be done in silence done, 
he set the alarm a little early and adjourned to his 
anticipations. He pictured April walking in the door and removing 
her clothes. When her image reached over and touched his cock, 
the real one erupted. He cleaned up and dropped off, thinking of 
the taste of April's breasts. 

April alternated between a stew of reluctance and daydreams of 
anticipation that day. Not only did she not learn anything in any 
of the classes, but her emotions utterly defeated her deodorant. 
She felt sticky. She located Brian in the hall before his last 
class. "Look," she said, "I'll have to be twenty minutes 
late." 

"That's fine," he replied. "I trust you to come." 

She was a little dismayed by that easy acceptance; but Brian 
also had some preparations to do. On the bus home, he decided 
that showering was more important than vacuuming. After the 
shower, he dressed in shorts, slacks, shirt, and slippers. He 
shut the doors to his mother's room and the guest room before he 
started vacuuming his room. 

He wasn't finished when he heard the doorbell. He ushered 
April into the house and closed the door before they kissed. She 
was wearing a nice dress, but not a fancy one. "Look," he said, 
"give me five minutes." April felt awfully lonely sitting in the 
living room, listening to the vacuum run. 

"Couldn't he finish his chores *afterwards*," she 
thought. There was a clatter as the vacuum was pushed away into 
another room, and he was back. 

"Sorry," he said. "I might not be able to provide the silk 
sheets and champagne, but I figured that the piles of junk and 
the dust bunnies would be a little much." She felt better about 
that, much better after he kissed her enthusiastically. 

"You didn't have to do that." 

"Sure I did," he answered. "I only wish that I could have done 
more. Do you want a Coke or something?" Slightly more than he 
wanted to strip her and enter her, he wanted to communicate that 
he cared for her as a person and wasn't only thinking about 
stripping and entering her. 

The awkwardness of the situation had already made April feel 
uncomfortable; Brian's lame attempt at being a host made it 
worse. "No," she said, "nothing." When he took her hand and led 
her to the stairs, she realized that she had refused any chance 
at delay. On the top floor, only two doors weren't shut tight. 
The fully open door was obviously his room, and she walked into 
it. 

"Why am I doing this?" she thought. She looked around. His 
straightening things up clearly hadn't been compulsive, but the 
floor was clean and no clothes were visible. Several sports 
posters were on his walls, dominated by a huge one of Michael 
Jordan shooting a basket. This was at the foot of his bed. The 
bed. It was neat with the sheet folded back and the blanket in a 
folded pile at the foot. It was really a narrow bed, as narrow as 
hers. Yet it looked awfully intrusive in the room. 

This fulfilled Brian's fantasy of the night before, April in 
his room. He slowly came up behind her and put his arms around 
her. She turned, partly to take her eyes off the bed, and ducked 
her head into his shoulder. He kissed her forehead. "I do love 
you," he said. "I love you very much." 

"Oh, I love you too." She must, or this afternoon was a 
horror. She raised her face for a real kiss, and he was gentle 
and tentative and kept his mouth closed. Then he licked her lips 
before penetrating them. The kiss was long and hot before he 
moved his hands from her back. Then he shifted, still with his 
mouth joined to hers, so that he could reach the buttons on her 
dress. He undid all of these before breaking the kiss. He brushed 
the dress off her left shoulder and kissed the point of her 
shoulder bone. Then he moved inward from that point, kissing to 
her neck and then her ear. She shivered at these attentions and 
wiggled to escape. 


"Does this go up or down?" he asked, holding the collar of her 
dress. 

"Huh!" she answered.  "Down, I guess."  He brushed the sleeves 
off her shoulders and held it as it fell away.  Turning from 
hanging it in the closet, he got a clear look at her in her bra 
and panties.  They were matching, frilly, and white. 

"White for a virgin," he thought.  He would be first; she was 
untouched. 

She had chosen the sexy underwear for him, but hadn't imagined 
his staring at her from yards away.  The light streaming in the 
windows seemed suddenly glaring.  Her arms moved of their own 
volition to cover breasts and groin. 

Seeing this, he closed the gap between them and held her 
again. "You look lovely," he said.  They kissed again, while his 
hands passed all over her smooth back.  She put her glasses on 
the desk.  She felt less exposed when everything around her 
looked fuzzy. 

She returned to his embrace.  His hands resumed their 
wandering, passing over her hips and sides and back.  They 
stopped, finally, at the bra clasp; he drew back.  "Look at me," 
he said.  With his eyes locked to hers, he undid the clasp and 
drew it forward. She shrugged the bra down her arms, and he took 
it from her.  He looked straight into her eyes while tossing the 
bra onto the desk, then deliberately dropped his gaze onto her 
chest.  She blushed again, but her nipples hardened.  "You are so 
beautiful," he said. 

When he kissed her this time, his hands slid all over her 
breasts.  He hugged her with his left arm until his right hand 
was trapped between her breast and his chest.  She was aware of 
his kiss, and the fire spreading from her breast, and his 
hardness against her belly.  He moved her backwards until she 
felt the bed pressing against her legs.  She pushed him away and 
sat to remove her shoes. 

Insufficiently hidden by the sheet, she watched him strip.  
She'd seen that naked chest before, although seldom so pale.  She 
thought that his tented underpants were ridiculous, but he kept 
them on when he followed her into bed. 

Again, he kissed her.  Then his kisses were roving all over 
her face as his hand roved over her torso.  His mouth passed down 
her neck and chest to her breast.  He held the breast up to his 
eager mouth as he licked and sucked.  His hand spread her thighs 
and caressed them as he switched to her other breast.  She was 
flushed and panting, and her hips were seeking his hand before he 
moved back on his knees.  "Help me," he said as he tugged at her 
panties.  She slipped them down off her hips.  He removed them 
the rest of the way. 

The afternoon light gave him a clearer view of her nakedness 
than he had ever had before.  Her face was slightly flushed as it 
was after she ran hard.  Her breasts were whiter than the rest of 
her skin, firm mounds topped with red-brown areolae and nipples. 
Her slim belly led to a sparse patch of hair, gold rather than 
the bronze on her head.  Even from his position he could see 
through the hair to the engorged outer lips and a faint line that 
suggested the inner ones.  Much as he regretted covering such 
beauty, he couldn't resist touching it.  He rested his palm 
lightly on the delta before looking in her eyes.  "You are so 
beautiful," he said.  Then he closed his fingers on her 
fleece. 

She warmed to his touch before flushing at the compliment.  
She yearned for his fingers and knew how they could thrill her.  
She feared his intrusion which seemed so imminent now, but wanted 
this waiting to end -- if even in pain. 

He eased himself down on his side again.  As he began a deep 
kiss, he parted her labia with his fingers.  He stroked her 
moisture upward, then across her clitoris.  He repeated this for 
what seemed to be forever, but finally she stiffened.  He broke 
the kiss to say "I love you, April."  Then he moved back to the 
peak of her breast. 

When he dropped to his side, she relaxed a little.  The kiss 
was familiar, and the strokes toward her center were delightful. 
Only the expectation of his pounce distracted her from the flow 
of pleasure, then of tension.  When the tension came, however, it 
brought with it a feeling of love for devoted Brian.  He brought 
her so much pleasure and took such effort to bring it, that he 
must care for her.  Just when she was thinking that, he said it.  
Buoyed by a rare agreement of thought and sensation, she entered 
paradise -- held in his hands, and quite alone. 

He felt her tense under his hand and lips; then he felt her 
shudder and finally collapse.  "Oh, my darling," he said.  And 
she was his darling, and she was his, and she would really be 
his.  That thought sent him to the drawer.  He shoved down his 
shorts with the condom in his hand, then fumbled open the foil 
and tried to figure which side went on him.  That solved, feeling 
the peculiar tightness of the rubber on his throbbing member, he 
tried to climb between April's legs.  There was barely room for 
one knee. 

April went from ecstasy to lassitude to loneliness in seconds. 
She wanted Brian to hold her.  Then she almost panicked.  He 
towered over her, too far away to be comforting, near enough to 
be threatening.  She had seen his cock peeking discreetly up from 
his lap, held it and stroked it, felt it stiffen and pulse and 
soften.  Now, however, Brian was kneeling erect above her thighs.  
His cock was projecting above her.  It looked much larger than 
she remembered, shiny white, and very threatening. 

She couldn't bear looking at it, but she couldn't tear her 
eyes from it.  Then she did, and his face was more frightening.  
He was as grim as she had ever seen him, when he was supposed to 
look soft and loving -- and happy, *one* of them should be 
enjoying this.  She tore her eyes away once more, and saw an 
orange blob.  "What was that?" she thought, "Oh, the basketball 
on the poster."  She tried to focus on that. 

He bent to kiss her breasts once more.  The nipples' response 
was as enthusiastic as ever.  He felt her relax and then move her 
hips.  He pushed against her left leg but got no response.  "I 
love you, April," he raised off her breasts to say.  "Let 
me." 

The words brought her attention back to his face.  He was 
looking worried now, and his voice -- at least -- was soft.  She 
couldn't remember her reasons to fear him or to resist.  Slowly 
she parted her legs.  He knelt between them before pressing them 
wider apart. 

He could tell that she was nervous and that her acceptance was 
more mental than physical.  He spread his own knees to hold the 
territory that he had gained before bending his lips once more to 
her breasts.  This time, his hand was busy at her entrance. First 
he smoothed her liquid over her clitoris and the folds around it.  
Then, as her breath increased, he used the tips of his fingers to 
open her and spread the lips wide for his approach. 

She felt a gathering excitement and then herself being opened. 
She felt him kiss her just before he nuzzled into her opening. 
"Don't hurt me," she begged silently. 

He was there.  He could feel himself at her entrance, about to 
become a man.  "Say yes," he begged, adding silently, "Don't be 
hurt."  He wished that she wouldn't look so scared. 

She braced herself, then said, "Yes.  Please yes."  He moved 
inward gently, awkwardly.  It stretched her a little, but caused 
not the slightest pain.  Then he filled her completely, and she 
held him completely.  She widened her thighs to let his groin 
press against hers.  It was painless.  More than that, it was 
glorious. 

Brian's entire consciousness seemed concentrated in his cock 
as it pressed into April.  The smooth progress, the tight 
pressure, seemed so different from his hand or hers.  "I've done 
it," he thought.  "We've done it.  We are actually fucking."  
Some fraction of his mind, however, was still conscious of 
April's tension.  And that part noticed when she relaxed.  
"Darling," he asked, "are you all right?"  A moment later, he was 
completely enclosed. 

"I'm fine," she said, "marvelous.  Oh, Brian!" 

"Do you hurt?  Can I move?" 

"No.  Yes.  Please move."  She gave a wiggle to convey her 
meaning.  Then Brian began slow strokes in and out.  These evoked 
a tickling, tingling feeling within her, something like the 
feeling his fingers produced. 

Brian felt the smooth slide through the clasping warmth more 
acutely than any sensation that he had ever felt before.  But 
that was the lesser part of his elation.  He was doing it at 
last, and he had broken in a virgin on his first time, and he had 
taken her virginity without hurting her, and *it was April*. 
They were together, and they would never part.  And then there 
was only him and his orgasm. 

He pulsed as he always did, but the emotions which rushed into 
him as his seed rushed out were untinged with shame for the first 
time.  He felt triumph and he felt love.  He had overcome April 
and he would never do anything against her.  Then it was only 
sensation. 

Then he collapsed. 

April enjoyed his movements within her.  She felt her tension 
build.  Then Brian was only a gasping weight.  She hugged him for 
a minute, thinking that they had done it.  Then he was just 
heavy, and slipping out. 

Brian grasped the rubber and made sure that it came out with 
him. He turned from her and dropped it in the wastebasket.  He 
lay on his side close to her.  "I love you, April," he said.  He 
waited for a response before, hearing none, he kissed her.  Then 
he covered them with the sheet.  "It really didn't hurt?" he 
asked. 

"No," she said.  Then a thought struck her.  "It really was my 
first time, though." 

Brian may have thought that he had become a man; but he 
answered as a boy, concerned only with what bothered him.  "I 
know.  I can't give you a ring, Ape.  I don't deserve your 
virginity." 

"I never asked for a ring.  We have too much to do."  She 
looked at him.  He didn't look convinced.  She feared that making 
her case again would just be protesting too much.  He had been 
her first, he should have figured that out, why was he doubting 
her now?  She had feared the pain so much, and now the 
painlessness was going to make everything worse.  "What's wrong?" 
she finally asked. 

"Too much to do," he replied.  "Ape, we have more than two 
years of high school left.  Then what?"  He got up.  "I'll be 
back in a second."  He used the toilet and then washed off his 
genitals. He didn't want to hug her with that mess on him. 

"I can't support you on a high-school diploma.  I didn't take 
shop when it was offered, because I was going to be a college-
educated manager.  Not that my parents would have let me.  Not 
that I'm great with tools.  And I don't think that I can wait 
even the two years! 

"This was great, this was wonderful.  But can we do it again? 
Can we sneak around for -- what? -- six years."  He flopped 
face-down on the bed. 

Even to April's self-preoccupation, this did not sound like a 
boy who was about to abandon her because of suspicions about her 
virginity.  Brian was worrying about their future.  She wasn't 
sure that she wanted to marry him, but she was sure that she 
wanted him to want to marry her.  Everything that they had done 
was now all right.  She hugged his back to comfort him, as she 
had often done before.  Her breasts were warmed against his skin, 
and the hug was suddenly different from any previous one. 

Brian felt two nipples firming against his back.  April had 
intended the hug as a comfort, and it was; but it was even more 
arousing than comforting.  "Loose," he said.  When she had 
loosened her grip, he turned around to return the hug.  "You're 
such a wonderful person, April.  It's as much your problem as 
mine, but your first thought is to comfort me.  I love you." 
First, they had a long kiss with tongues at play; then he kissed 
her face all over.  When his kisses moved to her breasts, she 
kissed the shoulder that she could reach.  He avoided her nipples 
as long as he could resist that attraction, but he succumbed at 
last.  April arched into his kiss, and the nipple -- in extending 
-- seemed to be reaching out for his tongue.  She gasped and 
pushed him away.  "Your breasts are so beautiful," he said.  
"*You* are so beautiful." 

April pushed him down in the bed.  "Let me look at you," she 
said, surprised at her own boldness.  He lay flat, though his own 
eyes kept roaming over her.  Most of what she saw was the Brian 
she knew, if a little paler.  One organ, however, lay flat on his 
stomach.  It was redder than the flesh under it, not white or 
shiny at all.  She smiled at the belated realization that she'd 
seen the contraceptive.  When she reached a hand over for a 
tentative touch, Brian hissed in a breath and it firmed in her 
hand.  "You look like you want to do it again." 

"I want to," he replied.  "I don't have to.  This afternoon is 
the finest time in my whole life."  She thought for a moment. She 
couldn't think of any reason not to continue; then she could. 

"Do you have another of those ... ?"     

"Rubbers," he said and reached for his pants.  "I love you, 
Ape; and this time I'll do it right."  He put the rubber from his 
wallet on the corner of his desk before lying down beside her and 
taking her in his arms again. 

They kissed again before his mouth returned to her breasts.  
Soon his hand was between her legs, and she was awash in 
sensation. He stopped just when the familiar tension was 
building.  He pulled her hand to his organ for a minute, and she 
felt him swell and stiffen.  She watched him roll the rubber on, 
then move into position.  There was a little gentle poking down 
there before he found just the right spot and eased in. 

"I love you, April.  Oh I love you," he said as he began to 
move. The movement felt odd until she shifted a bit.  Then it 
felt almost as exciting as his hand had.  She tried to hug him, 
but that interfered with his motion.  Then she rested her hands 
on his back and felt the motions above her as well as within her. 
When he bent his head to kiss her, she felt his chest rub against 
her nipples.  Again the tension rose within her. 

Somehow, Brian felt his motions within April's cunt more 
acutely although his arousal built much more slowly towards its 
peak. Her lips were sweet under his, the hard nipples of her 
breasts caressed his chest, her thighs gripped his hips and moved 
with them.  But it was the most intimate contact which drew his 
attention.  He slid up through April's vagina until only his tip 
was inside and then thrust slowly in through warm, slippery, 
clutching walls.  His legs weren't used to either the position or 
the motion, but he could ignore them and go on forever.  He 
dropped the kiss, however, to move a little more fully. 

As Brian broke the kiss, April felt the first tendrils of her 
anticipatory tautness.  Her attention turned inward and to the 
motion which was Brian's, but still within.  She closed her eyes 
to better savor the friction.  When she opened them, there was an 
orange blur at the center of her vision, being obscured by a 
flesh-colored blur in time to the motions.  She realized that it 
was the basketball on the poster hidden by Brian's shoulder. That 
little puzzle solved, she stopped thinking to feel. 

She was rubbed where she had never been rubbed before, she was 
filled where she had never realized that she was empty.  She was 
sheltered and caressed by Brian's muscular body.  Every thrust 
tingled her where her groin and his were almost bumping.  She 
matched his pace, rising to meet him and falling back.  Then she 
tensed until her hips were almost off the bed. 

Pleasure and relief rolled through her, pulsing along with 
their motions.  She moaned, and contracted, and burst into joy.  
And still Brian was moving within her. 

Brian believed nothing could match his sensations; but when he 
felt April move with his rhythm, his pleasure soared.  When she 
moaned and clutched around him, the pleasure doubled.  He 
straightened his arms and thrust more forcefully to heighten her 
climax and reach his own which seemed just one step ahead of him.  
Then it seized him, and he drove himself inward and gushed into 
her warmth. 

He managed to fall sideways.  They lay with their legs 
entangled and their torsos apart while they caught their breaths.  
They were gazing into each other's eyes.  Not even teenage 
anxiety could see anything but love there.  He caught his breath 
first. "Love you," he said. 

"Oh, Brian," she answered.  There was so much to say and no 
words could hold any of it.  She started to pull the sheet over 
herself, but he gestured to stop her. 

"Please," he said.  "You're so beautiful." 

"Okay.  But keep it short, I'm cold." 

He covered her immediately and reached for the blanket.  
"That's more important than my getting to see your beauty."  When 
they were covered, he hugged her tight.  "Better way to keep you 
warm," he said. 

"Much better," she replied.  "You're nicer than any 
blanket." 

The clock, however, was unsympathetically ticking away.  There 
were other pressures, as well.  She soon needed to visit the 
bathroom.  She started to dress when she came back.  Neither 
wanted the afternoon to end;  both could see that it had. 

"You won't tell?" she asked. 

"Never!" he replied.  "You won't?" 

"Carla.  She keeps secrets."  He was worried about that but 
had to trust April.  She had trusted him. 

Brian stopped April at the door.  "Are you sure that you don't 
want me to walk you back?" he asked. 

"Positive.  It's going to be hard enough for me to pretend 
that everything is normal as it is.  I don't want to worry about 
your pretense as well." 

"Everything is normal.  Everything is right.  We were meant 
for each other, it's just the rules that keep us from saying so." 
He kissed her forehead protectively.  She raised her face for a 
real kiss, and it was gentle and protective, then hard and 
passionate, then gentle again.  They parted reluctantly.  "Love 
you," he said as he opened the door. 

"Love you," she responded.  She walked out hesitantly, turned 
halfway around, then she firmed her shoulders and strode out 
towards the street.  He watched a moment, then shut the door. 

This was no time to dawdle.  He put the vacuum cleaner back in 
the utility closet and opened the door into his mother's room. He 
emptied his wastebasket into the kitchen garbage, having to pull 
one of the condoms off the side as he did so.  The kitchen 
garbage bag went out to the can in back.  He opened his window 
and shut his door before setting the table.  He wondered if his 
mother would notice anything; he wondered if she would make a 
comment if she did notice. 

April got home just in time for dinner.  Carla was at night 
school, and her parents didn't seem to notice that she was an 
entirely new April.  "Well," asked her father towards the close 
of the meal, "What April-fool pranks did you play this year?" 

"Oh Daddy!" she responded.  "I outgrew that long ago.  You 
still think that I'm a little girl." 

A quirk of his left eyebrow was his only reminder of her 
exploits the year before.  "Well, you're my little girl.  I'll 
always think of you that way.  I don't want you to grow up too 
fast." The words "grow up" made her blush, but her parents were 
sharing a glance. 

Once the dishwasher was loaded and she was hidden in her room 
with homework in front of her, she could think of Brian as long 
as she wanted.  He had kept repeating "I love you."  At first, 
she had feared that this was a formula that he was using to get 
in her pants.  Afterwards, however, he still said it.  And what 
he had said about all the future that they would need to go 
through sounded like he was really thinking that this was a 
permanent relationship. 

She loved Brian; did she want to spend the rest of her life 
with him?  She desired it and feared it.  She was daddy's little 
girl and, in some ways, Brian's little girl.  Both were sort of 
fun, but not for life.  She would move away from Daddy and grow 
up. Daddy would mourn it and celebrate it, as he had done every 
step she made since the first one he caught on film.  Would she 
have to move away from Brian to have him accept that she was 
growing up? 

Well, Brian was growing up as well.  He might grow up enough 
to respect her mind and her will.  To be fair, he'd respected her 
independence a lot this afternoon.  With them both naked in his 
bed, he'd asked for her agreement.  And, with them both naked in 
his bed, he'd pleasured her.  That was important, and April 
abandoned the uncertain future to recall the joyous past. 

Finally, she completed her homework despite her mental 
distractions.  She ended the night with a long hot bath.  As a 
practical matter, showers travel in the wrong direction to reach 
the parts which most deserved care that night.  Her choice was 
more influenced, however, by the emotional accord between soaking 
in the warmth of the water and basking in the sensuous memories.  
Brian had been there, had sheltered her, had filled her.  He had 
loved her *afterwards*.  The water warmed, supported, and 
relaxed her body as her lover had warmed, supported, and relaxed 
her spirit. 

Back in her room, she took off her robe and studied herself in 
the mirror.  She couldn't see any difference.  She desperately 
wanted the change to be invisible to everybody else, but she 
thought that it was unnatural that she looked the same.  Sleep 
overtook her while she was replaying the afternoon for the third 
time. 

Brian was too busy worrying about the evidence of the 
afternoon to savor the experience until he was alone in his room.  
The negatives came first.  April was so beautiful, but he 
couldn't say anything about it but "beautiful."  He wished that 
he were a poet so that he could actually describe her beauty to 
her, the sheen of her hair above and below, the shape of her 
breasts and thighs, the grace of her walk, the warm embrace of 
her cunt around his cock. 

Then there was the future threatening them.  Two years of high 
school, four years of college, before they would be permitted to 
live, before he could support her and claim her from her parents.  
Their love was a proud thing; it was a shame that expressing it 
had to be hidden away.  He didn't regret his promise to tell no 
one; he would rather have the guys snicker at his inexperience 
than have them snicker at April.  What he regretted was his 
inability to claim her in front of the world. 

Then too, hiding their activities meant that they couldn't 
make love very often; and he wanted to do it again and again. 
Coming in her had been glorious, much sweeter than the experience 
of her hand, let alone his.  Having her come around him had been 
even better.  How often could April do it without getting 
pregnant?  How often could they do it without getting caught? 

The idea of repeating this intimacy, however fraught with 
difficulties and dangers, excited him.  He replayed the afternoon 
in his mind.  Soon, the images weren't enough; he took himself in 
hand.  Brian didn't finish his homework that night.  Drained as 
he was, he still dreamed of April. 

Talking in school invited eavesdropping, but they couldn't 
resist.  They did get some safety by walking the school grounds 
for part of their lunch hour.  "Are you okay?" he asked. 

"I'm fine." 

"Do you swear that it didn't hurt at all?" 

"It really was my first time," she answered.  "I swear that. 
On, ... on the bracelet you gave me." 

"I believe you, partly because I know that you are an honest 
person, partly because I know what that bracelet means to 
you..." 

"Means to me now," she interrupted.  "You are *very* 
special in my life." 

"Partly because," he continued in the same tone, "I love you, 
and love should include trust.  But *mostly* I believe you 
because you were so sure that it would hurt.  Ape, you worry too 
much over the wrong things.  Now, did it hurt you at all?" 

"Not in the slightest." 

"That is wonderful.  Can't you understand that I worry over 
hurting you?  I don't worry over your having cheated on me." 

"I love you."  She started towards him. 

"Don't touch," he said reminding her of the school rule.  "I 
love you, too.  I should have said that first off."  They stood a 
yard apart looking into each other's eyes with expressions that 
the school administration would also have banned if it could. 
"You know," he said as the other students started towards the 
building, "it was my first time, too."  Not having a response to 
that, April was silent as they parted. 

Carla had called with a warning that she wouldn't be at 
supper. April was in bed when the knock came on her door.  
Carla's news came first.  She was going back to school full time 
in the fall. "It's a lost cause, Sib.  I'm not going to torture 
myself over Jeff Benton any more.  I may even go on to law 
school.  But that's the future." 

April couldn't find anything to say except "I'm sorry, Sib." 
They hugged for a bit, but Carla had done her crying alone. 

April's information took longer to communicate, but Carla 
summarized it neatly.  "You did it?" 

"Yes," said April, "and it didn't hurt at all." 

"My lucky sister.  Did you use anything?" 

"Brian did," April said, "and it was funny.  I'd never really 
seen it you know.  In a dark car, but never *seen* it.  
Then, suddenly, there was Brian kneeling on the bed above me. 
Sticking out from his middle was something white and shiny.  It 
wasn't until afterwards that I figured out that this was the 
rubber." 

"My sister!" said Carla.  "Sib, you could find something funny 
about your execution. " 

"Not afterwards.  Or, at least, if I saw something funny 
afterwards, there *would* be something funny about my 
execution." 

Carla giggled.  "Sib, I'm so happy for you.  Next you'll tell 
me that you came your first time." 

"No, but I did my second." 

"Second!  I am going to go out and find my own sixteen-year-
old." 

"Just so you don't go after mine.  Seriously, Carla, there are 
drawbacks.  I may never see a basketball again without 
blushing." 

"Basketball?" asked Carla. 

"Well you know how crazy Brian is about the Bulls," April 
began. "He has a huge poster of Michael Jordan at the foot of his 
bed. Brian was over me and blocking most of the view, but the 
basketball kept swimming into and out of focus.  Brian's room was 
much better than a parked car, but that doesn't mean it was 
ideal." 

"Does he care for you?" 

"That he does.  Sometimes his protectiveness edges over into 
the annoying, but he is always protective." 

"That," declared Carla with real force, "is more important 
than the room.  I've been seeing real love, unfortunately from 
the outside.  It's all about care." 

"And we've been talking about my joy all this time.  I should 
have been sharing your pain." 

"Why?  We're sisters, and we share.  But I'd rather be sharing 
the joy than the sorrow.  Anyway, I want to find you a basketball 
charm." 

"Why basketball?" asked April.  She really didn't want any 
charms which didn't represent turning points in her life. 

"Because even Dad would figure it out if you added a charm 
shaped like a bed."  


The end 
April's First
Uther Pendragon 
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
1997/04/01 
1997/12/21  
2000/04/01
2001/04/01
2002/04/01
2003/04/01
2004/04/01


For a quite different story of a girl's first 
sexual experience under quite different 
circumstances, see:
flights.txt "Flights of Fancy"

This is indexed with my other stories of 
teenagers under:
yl.txt Young Love

The index to almost all my stories:
http://www.asstr.org/~Uther_Pendragon/index.htm