*~The First Lesson~* (.cont. II)

It was more than a tremble, a convulsion perhaps, feeling his rough large hands crawl over my hips, and up to my lower back. You’re too big! Thought and vocalization had become one, I hadn’t thought to keep my mouth closed.  Predatory chuckle, shivers throughout my body as he lazily traced the curve of my inner thighs. You’re not being practical, sweetheart.  His rough fingers now between my legs, stroking tender flesh.  Fire.  As quickly as he had found my soft folds he was pulled away from them, perhaps burnt from the blaze in the pit of my stomach.

I felt his lips across the curves of my back, kissing along the gentle depression of my spine. Large, warm hands exploring first my throat, then ribs, and my breasts.  I fit neatly in the palm of his hand, small breasts, my nipples like taut little sand castles in his hands now, easily crushed by the encroaching surge.  I don’t like forced sex. I’ve never had an unwilling partner.  His hand, snake like, tracing my belly. My body reacting against me, my legs spread a little wider, hoping for more intimate touches. But if I got what I was wishing for, he would find out my dark little secret.

He’s still too big, I thought to myself, feeling him pressed against my thigh, his hot flesh alive and waiting.  While I wasn’t a virgin, I certainly wasn’t used to the sexual lifestyle either, and my extent of sexual experience had been a clumsy fumble on my birthday that lasted all of ten minutes.  I was embarrassed to admit this to myself, but thought it best to accept that in the most skewed sense of it, I was still a virgin compared to what this man could do to me.

The fire in my stomach quelled slightly at the feeling of his intrusion. Not the tearing pain I had expected, but soft, circles of pleasure. His hands had found their intimate touch again, and he had found me to be reluctantly wet.  He purred, his breath hot on my back as he explored me with just a finger, knowing my inner workings, each and every twitch and grasp and whimper.   Please. I wasn’t quite sure what  I was asking for. More?   You see? I can be as gentle as you’ll allow me to be. Something about the incentive in his voice, the way I understood his intent. Be kind to me, and I’ll pleasure you. Anger me, and I can make it hurt. Either way, he was going to get inside me. You’re so fucking beautiful. But his next words were lost in the whimper that managed to sneak past my defense. I felt his exploring finger press deeper into me, the sensations working like trade winds in a forest fire, carrying me over the edge. okay! Had I thought it, or said it?

Slowly I felt less full, his hand exploring more of my body. Stomach, breasts, ribs. The instant pressure on my side telling me to turn over. Absolutely! Facing him brought back all my childhood inhibitions about boys. The look I was greeted with, no longer hungry, but calm, collected, methodic. No longer the feeling that made me worry I would be overpowered by him, crushed and torn under the sheer size of this muscled machine of a man. But the sight of what my insides really feared, standing at attention, hot and waiting rekindled the aching burn, my mind screaming to get a grip. It must easily be the size of my wrist, I thought to myself, my thoughts only half terrified as he kissed and licked and bit my inner thighs.  I was exaggerating, I had to be.

Mikhail’s tongue found it’s way, inching gently from the crease where my thigh met my hip, to my soft folds, exploring focusing its heat on my clit. I lost control, rolling my hips against his tongue, soft whimpers becoming more audible as my body betrayed me and I understood the wet heat between my legs was my own creation not his tongue.  Inhibitions slowly started to fall away as I felt him eagerly press himself into me, his tongue exploring every inch, pushing into me, tasting me and I lost control of my voice.

Strong, vice like arms underneath my legs. All too quickly he removed himself, pushing me back onto the bed and I started to feel the nervous ache in my stomach.  Any moment he’d be tearing me apart. He kissed my belly, the hair on his chin no longer scratchy and brush like, but somehow more pleasurable than that, adding their own curious sensations to it all.  Hands fondling my breasts in their own silent admiration for pert youth.  Each kiss and nibble like new, no longer trembles felt in inevitable unexplained fear, but their own hidden knowledge of pleasure.  My chest was breaking out in a blush, heat, pink against the caramel tone of my skin.  His body pressed against mine now, not quite so intimidating and large as it had seemed in fear now, but impressive, passionate, each ripple of movement strong and protective.  He kissed along my shoulders, pressed my arms above me and continued down the soft underside of my arm, back to my breasts, exploring again with his tongue rather than his hands this time.

I don’t remember where or how the kiss started, but I found myself pressed right up against him, caught up in his arms and dangerously close to my predator. I could taste myself, not at all as strange as I thought it would be, but rather sweet.  Breaking the kiss, I felt him urge me to turn over, on all fours.  A thrill went through me. He kissed my shoulder, grabbed the hair at the back of my head, just long enough for a handful, tight grip, still gentle somehow as he encouraged me to bare my neck to him. His kisses were hot, practically bites lingering at the sensitive flesh of my neck, and trailing towards my hips. He found the dimples at my back where my hips flared, the tapering muscles of my back meeting with my arse,  and kissed them, evoking a strange tingle from me.

Perhaps I had been right about his size, feeling him press it hotly against my inner thigh and then up to my arse, teasing as he avoided the area I knew he wanted.  Fear as it sunk in just how large he was in comparison to my little opening. But perhaps my mind was exaggerating again.  My fear put on hold again as he bent to kiss my back again, his tongue trailing down, meeting with tender flesh again, delving, tasting, enjoying the tease.  Lost in the moment, I found my hand between my legs, only a moment of pleasure before he tugged my hand away,  pulling me until I was on my back again, facing him.

Pure heat, not my own this time, but his, pressed against me in the most intimate of ways. I felt it pushing at me, trying already to stretch me around him, and my body shuddered in a mix of fear and excitement. No exaggeration to be had now, he really was as big as I’d thought, and it scared me. Pleading hadn’t done any good in the first place, but he smiled as he saw it in my eyes. I decided to give it another shot. Please. . . My words covered by his mouth, tongue searching for my off switch as he kissed me passionately.  No more teasing, the moment of truth was practically sitting on me.

It felt nothing like losing my virginity had. Somewhat more painful, my body becoming spasmodic as it tried to accommodate just the first of many inches.  I tried to focus on the thought that it couldn’t hurt like this the entire time. Burying my face against his neck, he smelled like cloves and sandalwood, strong and masculine, and somehow sweet.  He pushed me back onto the bed, kissed me again as he pushed a little deeper. Copper, the taste of blood as I bit his lip, trying to mask the pained cry I felt rising.

To say I saw fireworks is not only cliché, but also an understatement.  The world was wavering, black and foggy, painful and yet somehow fulfilling. The heat in my stomach was wearing away, and I felt it wash out of me in the first wave of an orgasm.  Intense. That’s the word to use. He was no where near finished and my body had already thrown in the towel.  A growl against my lips, satisfactory as he gained a bit more freedom, losing control and forcing himself the rest of the way.

Reality no longer wavered in steamy black lines, the world went black for all of a moment, eyes clenched shut and I heard a cry like nothing before. So instinctual and pained, the undertone of pleasure taking over. For what seemed like forever it felt as if I would burst, and something inside of me wanted me to. Incredibly full, the fire in the pit of my stomach licking at the new found sensation. Breathless, voiceless, and then release. Slowly becoming used to him, I felt a slow surge of relief, relaxing as he gently parted my legs wider. I hadn’t any strength to fight him. Incoherent whimpers.

I hadn’t realized, yet, just how springy the bed was until he was using it to his advantage. Taking full advantage in fact. I felt stretched and filled in a way I’d never conceived before. Pain became pleasure, a mesh of confused sensations in my mind. Moaning and screaming unsure if it was in pleasure or pain, only that it felt natural, wonderful somehow. Bruised hips, bruised insides, and a new sensation. Something completely foreign. It moved with each thrust, like a barrier, protective force against intruders.  It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t possibly get that deep. Of course, my perception and understanding of boys and their anatomy had slowly faded away with today’s lesson.

The walls were crumbling, paint flaking away, the black wavering again, fireworks in the corner of my vision. Another hot wave. He stopped, hands tight on my hips, pulling me to him, our hips completely entwined, buried to the hilt inside me through the throws of my second orgasm.  I heard him chuckle as I struggled to regain composure, shocked and angry all at once when I felt him pull out, quickly and rudely. Empty.