David
cooked dinner that night and after the dishes were clean and drying in the
drainer, David pulled her to his chest, “Pretty girl, how do you want this to
go?”
Monica
paused and whispered against his chest, “This?”
“Us
making love, do you want candles and music, a Cinderella night? Or would that make you nervous?”
Just
the words made a little rush of nervous excitement run through her. “Um… Cinderella?”
He
began his slow silent waltz, spinning her slowly around the room to the rhythms
in his head, “Okay, Cinderella, do you want a special night out on the town, or
a private night all alone with your wise and gentle king?”
“Oh,
most definitely alone, I want a special night alone with my champion.”
Slowly
rocking and leading her around the room, his arms and hands holding her close
and warm. “So will your birth control be
in effect tomorrow?”
Monica
counted backwards in her head, “No. That
would be the next day.”
She
wondered how he could keep such perfect rhythm, and why the mere act of turning
her whole body over to him to lead and guide in their silent dance seemed so
perfect. She felt completely relaxed,
her face against his chest, her eyes half closed, listening to his heart
beat. It seemed like his voice came
through the wall of his chest straight into her ear. It was a soft deep drawl, “Pretty girl, if it
would be alright with you, I want to wait until then.”
Her
voice was almost inaudible. “Okay.”
He
paused and lifted her face to look into her eyes, “Okay?”
“I
guess so. I just don’t know why.”
David
looked a little pained, “Well, pretty girl, I just am not all that sure about
the whole condom thing. I, um, have
never used one before and while I understand the concept and mechanics, I just
don’t want to have to deal with that now.”
Monica
tried not to giggle, “Yeah, they are kind of weird.”
“And
that will give me some time.”
“Time?”
“Time,
Pretty Girl, time to plan.”
“Plan?”
David
gave her a mysterious smile, “Will you let me surprise you? Will you trust me?”
Monica
giggled and nodded. “I love
surprises. Just not sudden surprises,
just don’t sneak up on me. I always
loved Christmas because I knew it was coming.”
David
nodded solemnly, “Pretty Girl, it is important for you to know that at any
time, tonight, tomorrow, for the next thirty seven years, if you start feeling
afraid or need to slow down or stop, all you have to do is say the word. I was just going to figure out a nice evening
here together, some nice music, some good food, just some little things to make
our honeymoon memories extra special. If
I get too carried away, all you have to do is say whoa.”
Smiling
impishly, she could not help saying it again, “Okay,” and was rewarded with a
tickle.
“You
are impossible.”
“Okay.”
This
time he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, but instead of throwing
her on the bed and standing over her he turned around and fell backwards,
holding her tightly. He made a small,
“ooof” as her weight came down on top of him.
He lay there under her, his eyes sparkling and staring up at her, daring
her to do her worst. Monica lay on top
of him, her eyes alight with excitement and then she grabbed his head on either
side and gave him a fierce kiss. It had
started out as some kind of silly, clumsy gesture of triumph but in seconds his
arms came up around her, his hands tangling in her hair; his mouth opening and
she found herself drowning in the kiss.
Gently
he rolled her over until he was laying beside her, cradling her with one arm,
his lips not once leaving hers. Monica
wrapped her arms around his neck and made a happy, “mmm.” She did not know how long she lay there
melded to him. There was no sense of
urgency, no tension, just perfect luxurious endless kisses, soft, deep and
warm. Finally he pulled away and lay
gazing down at her face, his voice soft and just slightly breathless, “Pretty
girl, will you let me see you? Will you
let me touch you?”
Her
hand was just slightly shaky and she reached up and touched his face. Her eyes were large and she nodded. There was no question what he meant. Her voice vibrated with a mixture of
nervousness and pent up excitement.
“Okay.”
Sitting
up, she awkwardly pulled off her shirt and sat facing him in her little white
bra. Reaching behind she unhooked the
back and let it slide down her arms.
Still feeling a little nervous she avoided looking at him and stared
down at her slender torso, deliberately looking past the tracery of scars,
looking at her bare chest. Self
consciously she covered her tiny breasts with her hands and whispered, “They
are pretty little.”
David
covered her hands with his larger warm hands.
“I have always thought you were beautiful, Pretty Girl. Your breasts are small, but they are very
pretty. Show me.” Gently he pulled her hands away. Monica finally looked up at his face and was
a little surprised by the wonder in his face.
His eyes glanced up at hers and his smile warmed, “Yes very
pretty.” Again he dropped his eyes to
look again and reached to touch. His
finger was feather light as he gently stroked it across her skin and an
involuntary shiver shook through her and she felt goose bumps chase across her
skin and her nipples began to tingle as they slowly tightened into hard little
nubs. His voice was preoccupied, “You
know I called Bob the other day and he said that he couldn’t tell me anything
about how to make love to you. He said I
had to ask you. He said that the only
person who can really tell me what feels right, what you want, is you. Will you do that for me? Will you teach me how to touch you?”
This
time she covered his hand with hers, pressing his palms against her chest more
firmly. “Pressing flat like this feels
good, just steady pressure but if you are sliding across, it should be
lighter.” She lifted his palms and let
the smooth skin brush lightly across her hardening nipples. Another little shiver shook her. Her voice quivered, “That feels good. My nipples are pretty sensitive but all the
skin on my chest feels good. It feels
good to be lightly petted or even stroked hard.” Still holding his hand she demonstrated as
she spoke. “You can kind of, um… hold
my nipples between your fingers and massage them a little, kind of roll them
back and forth, or even pull on them really gently.”
As
he tentatively, experimentally tugged one of the tiny pink tips, a soft gasp
left Monica’s lips and he let go. “Did I
hurt you?”
Lifting
his hand and putting it back to her breast she shook her head, her voice
slightly husky, “No, it didn’t hurt. It
was just so sharply sweet, like an electric shock, only a good one.” Her voice quavered as he once again gently
began to toy with her nipples. Each
gentle pinch and tug sent sharp pangs directly down to her belly, making the
folds of her vagina ache and throb.
“I,
um… like to have them kissed too, kissed, sucked on, even little gentle bites,
nibbles. Gentle at first but, um… as I get more… um… turned on, excited I
like it a little harder, more intense?”
Her words seemed to surge and jerk as he leaned close and his eyes
looking up at hers, took a nipple between his lips. His kiss was feather light, and her voice
gurgled a little as she prompted him, “You can do that a little harder, suck a
little harder.” And as she felt the firm
tug pulling her deeper into his warm mouth, she felt her breath catch as she
tried to say, “Yes, like that.” The
words caught and came out as a soft pleading whimper.
His
voice was husky, “Like that?”
Monica
realized she had shut her eyes and blinked looking down at his eyes. She wondered at his calm, his control. His hands were on her, holding her steady and
catching his hands in hers she pressed them hard against her chest and took a
deep shuddering breath. Her eyes met
his, “I, um… need to go to the bathroom for a little bit.”
His
expression was serious, “Okay.”
Reluctantly
she slid back away from him and walked to the bathroom. In the mirror her face was flushed and she
smiled a tremulous smile. Sliding her
jeans and panties down and off she looked at the sanitary napkin critically. It was unstained and she quickly threw it
away and washed herself carefully.
Standing up she looked at herself in the full length mirror. Almost in awe she cupped her hands over her
breasts. His touch, his kisses had felt
so amazingly good. She brushed her hair
and took a deep breath and looked one last time in the mirror. Softly she admonished herself, “Remember what
Junie said. It is not about orgasms, it
is about feeling good. New lovers need
to take time to get to know each other’s touch.
Don’t go back in there expecting anything of yourself or him. Let it happen, don’t make it happen.”
David’s
voice came from outside the bathroom door.
“Who are you talking to in there?”
“Me,
myself and I.”
“Are
you okay?”
Taking
a deep breath she opened the door and stood before him nude. “Yes.”
His
eyes widened and, to Monica’s surprise and a sudden rush of love, he
blushed. His voice dropped an octave,
“Oh, you are so beautiful.” He reached
down and took her hands and gently pulled her toward the bed and sat on the
edge. He put his hands on her waist and
drank her in with his eyes. Slowly he
turned her a little right and then a little left and then pulled her close,
wrapping his arms around her, pressing his cheek against her belly.
Monica
stood transfixed, her fingers gently stroking the soft fringe of short brown
hair on the back of his head. There were
so many little random thoughts that ran through her head. His face against her belly was warm and just
a little scratchy from his five o’clock shadow and sent a sharp quiver through
her core. She could feel an unexpected
surge of warm dampness moisten the folds between her legs. His hair under her hand felt so soft, she thought
that his hair must have been very fine and soft like hers. Her eyes looked down, sliding past the
spider’s web of scars that veiled her torso, taking in the smooth brown skin
that was the bald top of his head, his broad shoulders. She wondered that he was still completely
dressed; he had only pulled off his boots and was in his stocking feet and for
now, for this thing, it felt right. And
most of all she realized that she did not feel the slightest bit embarrassed or
awkward. Instead she felt strangely
protective, attentive, even spellbound. It lasted only a few seconds but it was
timeless.
His
face against her belly turned and he tenderly pressed his lips against her
skin, his fingertips lightly sliding along the bumps of her spine. A sudden cascade of tingles made her shudder
involuntarily. David pulled back and
looked up at her face, gauging, “Is that okay?”
Monica
could not keep from a tiny giggle at the repeated use of the word, “Yes,
okay. In fact it felt really good.” Then as her fingers continued to touch his
hair she spoke, “Sometimes the feelings, the good feelings make me tremble like
that.”
He
smiled and nodded, “Okay.”
“Okay? Who is being impossible now?” But he ignored her bantering words and had
turned his gaze lower. Monica followed
his eyes and looked down at the nest of golden curls that crowned her
pubis. Tentatively she reached down and
ran a finger down one of the scars that led to that tender place. Her voice was just slightly tense, “I… I am
not really sure about this. We just… um…
have to figure this out together. Can I
lie down?” David nodded wordlessly and
loosened his arms around her, not quite letting go.
Curling
up a little on her side she took his hand in hers and brought it to her lips
and murmured, “You remember how I had said that since my attack that I haven’t
um… touched myself down there at all?”
David’s
voice was so soft as to be almost inaudible, “Yes.”
“Well,
let’s start out with what I know, what I remember from before. Like my chest, all the skin on my belly,
thighs and bottom are sensitive. It
feels good to be stroked and petted. I
liked the way your face felt when you put it against my stomach, kissed me
there.” Contorting a little, she parted
her legs a little, looking at her vagina closely for the first time since the
attack. Under her blond pubic hair she
could see the scars, her labia were not symmetrical. Like the scar on her face, things seemed
pulled just a little askew. And as she
ran her fingers over the soft tissues, she could feel the ridges and bumps of
the scar tissue.
For
just a moment she just wanted to curl up in a ball, to forget about this. Looking at his face she thought about
pleading that she couldn’t do this, that it was just too hard. But again the awe and wonder in his face
stopped her, calmed her. She could tell
he did not once see the scars. Her voice
was soft, almost clinical, “Um… all this stuff is called labia, there are the
outside ones,” she pointed at the fatter outer pubic hair covered lips, “and
these ones in between are um… minor ones?
In the middle here, is where most of the nerves are, the clitoris.” Monica could not help feel a little self
conscious as she pulled the folds apart, showing him as she spoke. Twisting a little she spread her legs a
little wider, “The actual opening is lower.
There are not as many nerve endings inside as there are outside, up
where the labia and clitoris are, that is where I like the touches more. But very gentle touches at first. I really don’t know how it will feel.”
Monica was feeling increasingly
nervous and reluctant and instinctively closed her legs. David gently began to stroke her shining
curls on her pubic mound she caught his hand and stopped him. His eyes met hers and she whispered,
“Whoa.”
His voice was soft and a little
hoarse, “Too much?”
Her eyes were filled with
disappointed tears, “Sort of, it was all starting to feel a little too forced,
mechanical. It was just getting
weird. Could you just hold me for a
little while, hold me and kiss me?”
As he pulled her to his chest she
felt the first sob rise up and she protested, angrily fighting the tears,
“Shit, shit, shit, shit!”
He held her tight, rocking her nude
body, softly hushing her, “Shhh, Pretty Girl, shhh, it is all right, it will be
all right.”
“I swore I wouldn’t cry.”
His next words took her by surprise,
“When?”
Sniffing, and taking a shuddering
breath, she choked out, “When what?”
“When did you swear not to cry?”
Somehow this question knocked down
all the walls and she melted down, sobbing uncontrollably. Her words were disjointed and confused, “Um…
um… I… don’t know.” Somehow his gentle
laugh felt right, vibrating through his chest, reassuring her that he was not
upset or disturbed by her emotional breakdown.
Monica didn’t know how long she huddled against him, letting the sobs
pour out. When she had finally ran down,
he continued to hold her, swaying gently.
Taking a deep shuddering breath, she rubbed her wet face, wiping her
nose on his shirt. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. Seems to me you have been trying not to cry
for a long time now. Sure, you cloud up,
I see your eyes fill up with tears, your lips quiver, but then you take hold of
yourself and shove it all down inside.
You wouldn’t let it go.”
Her voice was muffled against his
chest, “It’s funny, but you are right. I
can’t remember when, but somehow it seemed if I let myself cry, really cry, it
was only going to make things worse. It
didn’t feel safe, there was this sort of undefined fear that if I started, I
wouldn’t be able to stop. If I did it at
the therapist’s office, I would maybe end up in some kind of mental hospital. And I knew that momma couldn’t handle it.” She sniffed again and pulled back, looking up
at him, “I got your shirt all wet.”
Gently he smoothed her hair back, “I
will survive. Did it make things worse?”
Her giggle was a little hoarse and
damp, “No.” Still held snug up against
him, half of her felt hot, damp and sweaty, but the parts of her not up against
him felt chilled and she shivered. “But
I feel kind of empty and a little cold.”
“Would you like to take a warm
bath?”
The idea of a bath seemed magical
but she hated the idea of leaving the shelter of his arms, “I don’t want you to
let me go.”
His chuckle was soft and reassuring,
“And I don’t want to let you go. But,
Pretty Girl, that bathtub has plenty of room for two.” He grunted softly as he stood up, cradling
her against his chest and carried her into the bathroom. Carefully balancing her in his lap, he sat
down on the edge of the tub and reached over and turned on the water. “So am I going to get in with my clothes on
or are you going to help me figure out how to undress?”
Monica giggled, “Um… that does seem
to be a problem.” Unwinding her arms
from around his neck, she began to unbutton his shirt. “I think I am going to have to let you go for
at least a second or two.” Sliding out
of his lap, she pulled his shirt off and then tugged his undershirt off over
his head. David sat on the ledge,
passively letting her undress him, his eyes on her body. He helped her with his belt, and lifted his
hips, allowing her to pull them down and off.
For an instant she stopped, her face inches from his penis, looking
back. He was only half hard, hanging
down and slightly to one side. Monica
felt a tiny shiver, and she could not be sure if it was fear or excitement. Once he was nude, she stepped back, and
stared at him. Their eyes met and both
of them smiled.
His voice was slightly husky, “You
okay?”
For once at a loss of words she
nodded. She reached for some bubble bath
and poured it into the tub, leaning over and stirring the water around with her
hand, inhaling the soothing scent of lavender.
His hand touched her back and another shiver shook through her. “Could we turn off the light?” She did not turn to look at him, but sensed
his movement and the soft click as he flipped the switch. A lamp was on in the bedroom, but the
indirect light barely lit the bathroom and the darkness felt right. Monica stood, looking out the picture window,
her eyes adjusting to the darkness. She
could see ragged clouds racing across the sky, their edges lit by the moon, and
as she watched it broke free, fat and almost completely round, it lit up the
ocean waves far below. Her breath caught
and she exclaimed softly, “Oh look!”
His arms came around her from behind,
his voice low, “It will be full tomorrow.”
Then he turned her to face him, pulling her against him, pressing
against the length of her, his skin hot against hers. He was taller than her, her head rested
against his chest; his cock, harder now, pressed against her belly. Again she felt herself shiver. “Let’s get in the tub, Pretty Girl.”
She found herself once again cradled
in his arms, buoyed up by the deep, warm water, leaning back against his
supporting arms, still gazing up out the window, watching as the clouds would
cover and then reveal the moon as they chased across the sky. Her voice was soft, “If you want to touch me;
that would be okay.”
He did not speak, and at first he
only touched her face, gently stroking her hair back and watching her face as
the moonlight would light up her features.
Finally she took his hand and brought it down into the water, pressing
it against her breast and sighing as the sensation spread through her. Gently she reached up and pulled his face
down to hers, their lips meeting and parting, seeking the warmth and softness
within. When they parted she sighed again
and murmured, “This is nice. I like
this.”
His
response was soft, “Mmm hmmm.” His hand
remained on her breast, his fingertip rubbing across her nipple sending soft
shocks through her, making her breathing hesitate and quiver. She could feel it clear down, deep in her
belly, a sweet, sharp almost painful ache and throb. Keeping her eyes locked on the scudding
clouds she took his hand and traced it down lower and pressed it against her
pubic mound. A long deep shudder shook
through her and she pressed it harder, subtly moving it in slightly circular
motion. The deep pressure and movement
made her belly muscles spasm and jerk.
His hand was still trapped under hers, their fingers intermeshed, tentatively
she let her finger tip slide down through her folds, finding her clitoris and
let the continued gentle gyrations communicate to the very center of her. It felt good, very good.
Her
voice was low, a little hoarse, and seemed to throb in time to the slow
movement of the joined hands, “Are you okay?”
Again
his voice was soft, “Mmm hmmm, you?”
“Very
okay, could you kiss me?”
They
had to contort, Monica tipping her head back and the kiss was brief but
intense. Impatient with the position,
she pulled his hand away and twisted around in his lap, the water splashing
slightly. Lying on his chest she pressed
her full length against him, taking his mouth in hers again, for the first time
humming a soft moan as she ground her belly against his erection. His hands on her back were tense, pulling her
down against him, rubbing himself against her skin. Monica moaned into his mouth again, writhing
against him. His kiss was deep, his
tongue moving in her mouth in time to the sensual undulations of their
bodies. He made a soft grating grunt as
he ejaculated; his come slippery between their bodies.
Monica
had to consciously stop her body’s continued undulations. Part of her wanted to continue but part of
her was reluctant to struggle. Somehow
she knew it was there, that eventually it would happen and that was
enough. Softly she touched his face, her
voice still slightly hoarse, “That was nice, thank you.”
His
voice was gentle, “Did you have an orgasm?”
“No,
but it was very nice. I liked it. That is enough for now.”
