We sat on the dock, both wearing medieval clothing. He was telling me stories, rambling from one subject to another, and frequently mentioning that he’d left his cloak at his house an hour away. Finally, I offered him part of my cloak to cover his torso, and he laid down with his front against my side and his legs curled around me.
We kept talking for a while; he started stroking my side (I was wearing velvet) and I was petting his back. I could feel my abdomen twisting — I’d wanted him since the day I met him four years before. The problem was that he was seven years older than me, and I’d been sixteen when we met. He saw me as a little girl…but maybe not tonight, I thought. I’m twenty now — maybe he’ll see and want the same thing in me that I want in him. He kept talking, but his breathing was heavier — was he cold or starting to *ahem* “warm up” toward me? He sat up, gesturing with his hands as he told me a story, and I leaned against him, pressing my face to his chest. Please, I thought, please oh please…His hand slid from my back to my abdomen, rubbing gently, then up to my back again. Please…after about twenty minutes of talking, he asked, “Are your breasts off-limits?” I didn’t know what to say — of course not, but I didn’t want to seem easy. I didn’t answer, and he asked again…I told him “No…” and his hands slid up to caress my breasts through my dress. Pleasure twisted through me at the first touch of his hands, and I gasped, moving involuntarily. He stopped for a moment, then continued, making me have to bite into his shoulder to avoid crying out. Our faces slid against each other, and he kept caressing me, but he didn’t kiss me. Was he afraid? His hands were all over my breasts, so that wasn’t it…and then he kissed me. His lips were so soft, like wet velvet, and his tongue danced with mine, caressing my mouth as his hands continued their attentions to my breasts…I could feel his penis growing harder and harder against my side, and I slid my hands down his chest to his shirt’s hem. Damned medieval shirt, I thought…It was down to mid-thigh and he was sitting on it. I settled for sliding my palm over him, hearing the satisfying sound of a gasp from his lips. We kissed again, and again, and again…I was straddling his lap by now, and he pulled my hips so close that they were crushed to his, shoving my crotch into his. Wetness soaked my panties, soaked all the way down my thighs, and his thumb slid over the panties and pressed into my clit, rubbing up and down. My hips bucked against his hand, prompting a groan from him as both hips and hand hit his penis. He laid me down gently on my cloak, then stretched full-length on top of me, grinding his hips against mine again. My legs wrapped around his, I strained against him, so close…and then he reached for the hem of my dress, pulled it from around my hips where it had hiked up to, and took it off me. I laid there in my bra and panties, looking up at him as he took off his own shirt and pants. He then turned to my panties, licking gently right above the waistline of them. Taking the waistband in his teeth, he pulled them down, then slid back up my body until he could kiss me. His penis now pressed against my bare crotch, only the fabric of his boxers separating us…and then he lifted his hips and slid off the boxers. He came back down, pressed into me…I could feel the head of his dick pressing at my pussy, but he didn’t try to enter me. He kissed me again, then asked “Can I go inside you?” Unable to speak, I just nodded and spread my legs farther apart. I felt a pressure, then he pushed into me. He was bigger than I expected, wider…the feeling of discomfort grew as he entered me fully, and then disappeared as he began to move gently inside me. I could feel him rubbing in and out, up and down…he ground his hips against mine again and again, grazing my clit with each touch. I moved my legs up around his hips, locking him against me, and thrust as we kissed — kissed like we were trying to climb inside each other’s bodies — and I could feel an orgasm building inside me with each thrust. I’d never orgasmed with a man inside me before…and I thrust that thought from my mind with as much force as he was now thrusting into me, hard enough to bruise…but it hurt so good. I convulsed as the first orgasm rippled through me, tightened around him…and he came inside me, muffling his scream and mine in a kiss. He kept moving, and I felt a second one, and then a third…and finally we both lay still, completely spent. His weight on me was a comforting thing, and I didn’t want this moment to end, didn’t want to go back to the real world. Ever.