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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2007. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your
consideration.
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A Completely Normal Story
by 007Bistromath (007bistromath@gmail.com)
***
Nothing special here, just a boy and a girl. Anybody
who knows my name knows that's certainly not my usual
fare. (MF, 1st, rom)
***
This story is complete fiction, but it is, in its own
way, about real people. She'll probably read this,
because she posts here. My apologies to her; I simply
couldn't not write this, as it has been so long since I
have been struck by such fully-formed inspiration. I
had to capture it and share it before it left me. I
hope this doesn't bother you, though I know you well
enough to say it probably won't. And no, I don't think
this is the way things would play out. I have no idea
how you'd respond to some of the things that happen in
this story. I'm just writing what works best.
Enough of that. I need to start actually writing this
thing.
She is one of my best friends. Never would've thought
it the first time I met her. Before I knew her, I
thought of her as dressing a little too punky for my
tastes, and being a little too "random." More somebody
I'd have hung out with a couple years ago. Unlike many,
though, the quirkiness was not a veneer overlaying the
same prudishness everybody else had. She turned out to
be weird all the way to the bone. Much better. She was
also very cuddly, often surprising me with hugs once we
knew each other better. Exactly what I wanted.
Every time I speak with her, she seems to fit me a
little better. She has the strengths I want, the
weaknesses I understand, and the laugh of an angel.
She's never felt the same way about me. I'm her friend.
A very good friend, apparently: she makes a point of
helping and comforting me however she can, giving me
stern advice whenever she thinks I need it, otherwise
being a wonderfully matronly person, and generally
fooling everyone we hang out with into thinking that
she does like me "that way," but still just a friend.
One time in the sort of ridiculously stupid maudlin fit
I often dump at her feet, I mentioned wanting her to be
the mother of my children.
Rather than, say, laughing, or telling me I'm being
dumb, or hanging up on the creepy guy making weird
insinuations, she said, "no promises." Possibly the
worst answer she could've given, as it just fuels the
illusory campaign of romance in my head, but I think
she believes it to some extent. The discussion we had
then made me think more than ever before that we'd fit
perfectly. Like many people I have known, she is one of
those who says she thinks it's okay to get physical
with friends, but doesn't actually do it.
Unlike those other people, her being that way does not
frustrate me. She isn't ready. She's got stuff to sort
out, and she's a lot stronger than me, strong enough to
not be crippled by loneliness. She is also a virgin,
and wants her first time to be Special. And so the
story begins.
I think that I can be Special. I know it, really. I
haven't done much, but just enough to know that I know
what I need to know. Despite complaining when I'm
feeling down, as I am wont to do, I don't really
usually feel any pressure with her, because I know that
for somebody like this, who wants what she wants,
foreplay begins years before any clothes come off.
I might not be her first, but I could be her best, and
I know from experience that the first time with
somebody Special feels like the first. I will do this
right for her. Even if just for a few minutes, she will
feel what I do.
This is what I told myself as we arrived home. We had
met at the mall, where we ate Subway and bought a DVD
to watch. Some anime I'd never heard of that she insist
I see. We walk upstairs to my mother's apartment and
back to my room in it. I sit on the bed and she tackles
me. I squeal and writhe and wrap my arms around her.
Then she pulls away.
The movie is pretty good, but as usually happens when I
watch things with her, I don't quite fully assimilate
some parts, because I am rather distracted. She is
close to me, and we are tangled up in each other. I can
feel the soft play of her flesh against mine, and my
breath rebounding against her neck; I can smell her
hair, and trace its tight curls with my eyes. She is
absolutely beautiful.
Shortly after the movie is over, she complains that her
neck hurts, and lays on her belly. I begin to massage
her shoulders. It's been ages since I've done this; I
hope I'm not pressing too hard. She seems to like it,
and I move around. Her lower back, her sides. She seems
a little sleepy, and I slip my hands underneath her
shirt and pull it up. I continue my work, feeling her
soft, supple skin under my hands. I'm a little nervous.
I know that I probably shouldn't do what I'm about to
try.
"Let me get this out of the way."
"Mmmm?"
Hooks. Bah. I fumble with them, as always. The damn
things never cooperate with me. Why don't these things
have snaps? To my surprise, she reaches behind her and
solves the problem for me.
I return to work without obstacle. As I spread my
attention around, this cycle repeats itself several
times. Even though it's what I intended when I began,
it takes me a little while to realize that she is
looking up at me, nude. I lean forward and plant a kiss
on her cheek. At the same time I raise my hand to her
chest. She doesn't swat it away like she usually does.
I move slowly to kiss her lips. She doesn't turn her
head like she usually does. I hold her and we kiss.
My pants are too tight. What are they still doing on
anyway? I disrobe. I struggle a bit with the socks,
which always seem way too tight even though I buy the
size the package says to. I finally pull the second one
all the way off, panting and wheezing from the strain,
and she giggles at me, telling me I need to get in
shape. I squint. "Yes, I know. Hush."
We embrace again, I run my hands gently all along her
body. I let my fingertips just barely touch her, waving
them back and forth very slowly, as though I were
playing a harp made from spider silk. She takes in a
sharp breath and I hold her tightly, kissing her again.
I work my way slowly down to her neck, her shoulders,
her breasts, her belly. Here I pause a moment, running
my hands across her skin and pressing my face tightly
to her, just enjoying the feel of her. I press my lips
against her and blow.
BLURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP!
She buffets my head with slaps and I giggle like a
maniac.
"I'm sorry! I couldn't resist!"
"You cut that out!"
*snort* "Okay, okay. Sorry."
I move back up to her face and begin again. This time I
don't stop at her belly.
"Tell me when I've found it."
"Ooh! There!"
"Perfect."
As I play around it with my tongue, I slide two fingers
into her and curl them in the way I have been told is
proper. Soon, she has her thighs clamped around my
head, and she sometimes jumps off the mattress. In the
kind of stories I read, this is when she'd reach her
first of seven or so climaxes, but I've no clue how to
really tell. All I know is she's enjoying herself.
Mission accomplished.
After a time, I crawl back up to her face and kiss her
again. I lick my fingers, and dry them on the sheet,
and run them through her hair. I move between her legs
and adjust myself.
"Are you ready?"
"Um... Don't you have any rubbers?"
I put a finger to her lips.
"Shhhhh."
I lower my face beside hers and whisper into her ear.
"Of course I do. But you want your first time to be
Special, right? I usually don't bother taking my socks
off, you know. My feet get cold anyway. But I wanted to
be completely and totally naked with you. I wanted us
both to feel every slightest nuance, and to have
nothing between us. Tonight, we are the entire world."
I rise back to look in her eyes.
"Is that okay?"
"Yes."
I am inside her. Neither of us can breathe evenly.
Ecstatic rapture jumps between us as though we were the
two sides of a capacitor. Slow, fast, slow again, deep,
then shallow. I give a couple hard thrusts for good
measure and collapse to the side of her, sweating
profusely.
"How am I doing?"
"That was really nice."
"Was? I'm not done. I just need a drink."
I come back with some water, and we both drink and
cuddle and talk. When we're ready again, she climbs on
top of me. I hold her close, and bury my face in her
breasts. We need another break soon. Next time I have
her turn sideways, so that we form a T. I can generally
go deepest this way, I've found.
With one arm I hold her near leg, hugging it tight
against me. With the other hand, I hold one of her
breasts, brushing and tweaking the nipple. Another
break. The glass is empty, and this time she goes to
get the water, as I am huffing and puffing too much. I
look up at her when she returns. She smiles very
sweetly, and her curvaceous body glistens with sweat. I
am happier than I've ever been in my entire life, and
tell her so. She just lies down next to me again, and
we kiss.
Things are getting urgent down south, so for the last
round I go with what's worked before. She sits on top
of me, facing away. She lies down on her belly, and
rocks gently back and forth over me. I push upwards and
grasp her hips tightly. I am stirring around inside
her, causing intense shocks. I cry out many times,
thinking I've finished, but sinking back away from the
edge.
Finally it happens. Whether she's finished too, or is
just slowing down because she can tell I'm drained, I
don't know. I look at the clock: about forty-five
minutes. Close enough for government work. We
disentangle, take a drink, and reentangle.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
Hope she's not late for work.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 51