He hadn’t been there.
She could barely see through the tears and wiped her eyes with the end of her scarf. He hadn’t been there. She raised her head and looked at the sky – dark and full of purple clouds, it was in the middle of the night … and cold. It was cold outside. But that was the least of her troubles.
He hadn’t been there. He hadn’t been there, where he himself had said they would meet. He must have gotten cold feet… or maybe, maybe something had happened… that prevented him from coming to meet her… perhaps he had wanted to come but hadn’t been able to make it. Yes, that must had been it.
No, she told herself furiously and bent her head down as the pain inside her heart made her face grimace. Don’t fool yourself like that. He never wanted to come… He never wanted you… he loathe you…
She stumbled. Damn high heels… she hated high heels, they always made her trip. But he liked them. He… She had worn them for his sake. Those, and her black skirt and her favourite shirt of black velvet… her silver scarf both fitted and stood out. She knew she looked great in it. She had wanted to look great for him. But he had never showed up, so he would never see her in these clothes… ever… because she wouldn’t let him. She hated him and never wanted to see him again. He had hurt her so much, she hated him … as much as she loved him. She wanted to strangle him as much as she wanted to make love with him…
At the thought of them making love her body reacted in an unwelcome way by making her knees water and her pulse rise. She hurried up her pace and felt a slight anger rise in her chest.
He was nothing. He may be gorgeous, seductive, beautiful, intriguing and the best kisser in the world (accorded to faint experiences), but he was nothing. Nothing. Nothing…
By itself her hand rose to the necklace he had given her, a beautiful one of gold, and pulled. It hurt her neck, and it didn’t break. She pulled harder, and it snapped. She didn’t even look at it. If she did, she would be caught by its beauty and be tempted to keep it. She would throw it away, in the river. There it would sink to the bottom and, hopefully, never surface again.
She tripped again. This time, her knee hit the ground and hurt. She welcomed the pain as an evidence of how much he had hurt her and walked on. Fast, towards home. She would never go out again.
She vaguely saw a figure far away on the other side of the street walking in her opposite direction. She didn’t care the least. She kept on watching him, though, (the figure was far to big for being a woman) just to be on the safe side. As he came closer she saw him watching her, too. Her pulse rose, slightly, in fear. He slowed down until he stood still, and when she was about ten meters from the point where he stood on the other side, she stopped dead when she saw the figure more closely. The streetlight above illuminated a fall of hair that can only be described as golden, with waves and curls. His face was hidden in shadow, but she knew it by heart and saw straight into the eyes she couldn’t see the colour of but knew was icy blue. He watched her.
It was him.
It was Raphael.
Her heart began beating even faster as he started to slowly walk towards her, then break into a run to finally slow down and stop in front of her. They spent a few breathless seconds watching each other. Unprepared as she was, she was stricken with full power at sight of his beauty. His golden hair, blue eyes and beautiful body, not too muscular, perfect.He was wearing a pair of old, soft jeans that fitted him perfectly and a T-shirt that showed all his chests muscles. She gazed into the eyes she had sworn to hate, inhaled his intoxicating cologne that made her breath quicken and her knees tremble.
“Hi,” he said. His voice was golden too. Dark and melodious, never raised, always controlled.
“Hi,” I said, though I’m not sure if he catched that, it sounded more like a squeak to me. We were silent for a few seconds.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said. I felt ice temporarily freeze my feelings for him.
“You weren’t late, you never showed up. I waited for an hour.” The frost in my voice vanished with the last words and they broke, revealing the pain behind the words. He looked not as controlled and comfortable as he used to and shifted position.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and actually sounded truthful. “I… I really am sorry.” I felt tears throb in my throat and behind my eyelids and turned away so he wouldn’t see them.
“Don’t be,” I croaxed. I couldn’t think of anything more to say so I was quiet. He was too. I felt his cologne rise to my head again and felt I only wanted to rest my head to his chest and cry. I blinked hard, causing two large tears to start trickle down my cheeks. I have to get away from him, I thought dizzily…
I tried to walk past him, but he grabbed my elbow gently, causing me to stop. I had my eyes closed and my head turned away from him.
“Your necklace,” he said. I remembered and suddenly wished I hadn’t torn it off.
“I… it … it broke…” I stuttered. His eyes were gentle and his smile warm and slightly teasing. His hand on my skin was almost more then I could bear.
“Then we’ll have to repair it. Don’t cry…” he whispered and wiped the tears of my cheek with his free hand. I closed my eyes and felt the painful tears throb in my chest. He cupped his hand and held my face whilst he stroked my cheek with my thumb.
“Don’t cry, little star…”
Afterwards, I can’t tell what possessed me to come with him after the rage of hatred against him minutes earlier. But I know that all my hard feeling for him vanished when he kissed my forehead after whispering to me not to cry and calling me the special name he had only for me. His lips on my forehead made the tears go away and be replaced by a dreamy sort of yearning after him. We had walked side by side to the street door of his house. The house was number 13 in a neighbourhood.
“Here,” he said and showed me into a large kitchen, far to large and exclusive for a stand-in teacher. I sat down on one of the chairs by a white wooden table. He went over to a corner and started ruffling in a cupboard near the floor. I looked around the room. White, new fridge, wooden benches, sink, oven and stove, and, I noticed, no clock.
“Wine?” he asked.
“Um, do you have white?” I wasn’t very much for wine, but mother was. I had tasted some of her white wine and found I could stand it.
“Nope,” he said, “sorry. I only have red. Perhaps something light,” he added to himself and went deeper into the cupboard.
He returned with a bottle of deep red wine and two elegant glasses and sat down in front of me. I smiled.
“My mother only had white wine, I’ve never tasted red.”
“Really?” He smiled back with slightly raised eyebrows. “What a shame. Red wine tasted best.”
One and a half glass of wine later I was feeling a bit tipsy. He seemed perfectly normal and I wasn’t quite comfortable with that. Otherwise I was very comfortable. More than I knew I should be, anyway, alone at his home for the first time. Alone in any mans home for the first time. Well, not any mans home, there was dad, uncle Thomas, uncle Percy and my old teacher, Mr. Edinburgh (but that was to drop off my very late homework) and … unh… I am a bit tipsy…
I closed my eyes and waited for the world to stop its slight spinning.
“I’ll just go powder my nose, ok?” I nodded without opening my eyes. I had such a wonderful taste in my mouth. Sweet… I awoke slightly as I heard the bathroom door close and the fog in my mind vanished almost when I saw the sink. I stood up and went over to it, opened the cold crane and drank directly from the tap. I was very thirsty, I noticed. The wine didn’t really help that. I dried my mouth on one of the towels and went to sit down when I saw another way out from the kitchen. The door was wide pen, revealing little as it was so dark inside. I went over there, curios, without a thought of that I perhaps wasn’t allowed to be there. I went in to the big, dark room and found, when my eyes had adjusted themselves, that it was a living room. There was a fireplace, a cosy sofa with two matching armchairs, a piano, a huge mirror and a great deal of shelves with old books and expensive-looking things. I went over to the window and saw that he had a beautiful view of the river and the forest behind it. Our city ends very abruptly with the river.
I felt my head clear up from the view of water glistering in moonlight, now that the clouds had moved. I turned from the view and went further in to the room to see another open door telling me to go through. I obeyed my curiosity and came into a bedroom. I was suddenly a bit embarrassed that I had stumbled into his most private lair, but I couldn’t leave, not yet. The scent of him was everywere here.
His bed was huge, right in front of me, in the middle of the room. It was four postered with a roof and deep red velvet curtains by the posters. I went over and touched one of them, then smelled it. His cologne. My head span.
His bedside tables were empty except for three lit candles on each, but there was a drawer beneath each that perhaps contained something interesting. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help myself. I checked he wasn’t coming, then hurried up to one of them and quickly pulled the drawer out. It was empty, except for one thing: a picture. Of me, I saw when I took it up. Of me in my deep red prom dress when I clutch my matching purse and smiled. I’m not looking into the camera or even noticing it, witch makes it a very good picture of me. I feel my heart pounding hard at the thought of why he has a picture of me by his bed and I quickly put it down again and close the drawer. I try to hurry to get out before he comes back, but then he suddenly stands there in the doorframe. My heart jumps as I nearly crash in to him. He is leaning his shoulder to the frame, blocking the way out, with one of his more seductive smiles playing in the corners of his mouth. I can’t see his eyes properly, but I see them recast the glow from the lights outside the window. They glitter and his hair now has a silver tint made by the moon… My breath is strained and my shoulders tense. Then he speaks and breaks the maigic silence.
“Why so tense?” His voice is even deeper now. I get a pleasant but unwelcome shiver down my spine. “What were you doing?”
“Um, nothing,” I say, probably a bit to quick. “I, uh… Was just looking around… I’m just not sure if I’m allowed to be in here…”
“Why wouldn’t you be?” He stood up straight, half a head taller than me, and took a step towards me. I tensed even more and tried to lean back but didn’t move. He stopped right in front of me and took something from his pocket. My necklace. Fixed.
“It was the clasp that broke. I simply replaced it. Here, let me,” he said when I reached my hands out to take it. He opened it and put his hands behind my neck to close it. With him so close I was too dizzy for my own good, and it was not because of the wine. I had left my scarf in the kitchen, I remembered when I felt the delicate, cold gold chain against the bare skin of my throat. I reached my hand up to touch it and knew that he still had his hands around me, softly stroking up to the hollow of my neck, as I wore my hair up that night. I felt small shivers of pleasure go down my spine and I looked up in his face to meet his beautiful, icy-blue eyes. We were less then half a meter apart. The look in his eyes, I could not place it… so distant, yet so present… Four decimetres…. Three decimetres… I knew what he would do. It was coming, that I had longed for for months… Two decimetres… I parted my lips and vaguely saw him do the same. One decimetre… my pulse was racing… five centimetres….
His lips were soft. Soft, warm and a bit wet. I noticed he had no hair around his mouth, his skin was soft. I was trembling with him so close, his hands around my neck holding more firmly now. His tounge touched my upper lip. In answer to that I instinctively opened my mouth fully and leaned against him. The hand around my neck was loosening up the bun of my hair whilst the other one slowly and lightly traced my back down. I noticed my own hands were motionless in front of my breasts so I put them lightly on his chest and then, remembering an old desire of mine, moved them upwards to run them through his slightly long, golden hair. It felt like silk.
He had managed to loosen my bun so much so that he could now let my hair down and stroke it. He worked it a bit like a cat does when it is pleased and massaged with it’s paws, the same time as he slid his other hand up underneath my shirt on my bare skin. I had my one hand in his hair and the other at the back of his neck, feeling the softest hairs underneath my fingers. He once again put his hand at the back of my neck and stroked the hollow there. He suddenly pulled me firmly against himself with the hand around my waist and surprised me with a very forceful and deep kiss that caught me quite off guard. I grasped a little over the sensation of his body against mine, his hips cringed to me and in the same move he tilted my head backwards and started kissing my neck with light kisses that slowly became more sucking and biting. I leaned my head as far back as I could and stared up in the ceiling. My lips were throbbing and wanted more of his kisses, my legs would barely hold me up and I felt I was digging my nails in his back.
Lynn Melissa Matthews, what are you doing?! Stop these insanities right now! You have a boyfriend, Raphael is your teacher, he is involved with the nurse, you’ve heard she’s pregnant, your friends will know! Your sister will know and she will tell your precious mother and you will never be allowed to see him again! Ever!
With a soft moan I closed my eyes and let the warm feelings of lust sweep away my doubts. I clutched him even tighter as he had unbuttoned my shirt and was now sliding his hands at the back of me, stroking, teasing. I wanted more of his lips, my nervousness all gone. I straightened my neck and sought his lips. He obviously liked this proof of initiative and kissed me deeply while pressing me hard against him, one hand on my upper back and one on my bum, softly cringing his hips to mine. I felt the hardness there and my mind fogged even more and ridded all thoughts of embarrassment from my mind. I slid my hands up o his back, underneath his white T-shirt and traced his spine up. I felt my lust rise as the muscles by his spine and by his shoulders move underneath my hands. He abruptly let go of me and pulled away. I was confused for a split second, then he pulled off his T-shirt and threw it away, his eyes locked on mine. I looked at his upper torso and was very impressed. Though I only had a second to look, I saw that he was almost without hair and had a very nice muscle structure. He came against me and kissed me gently at first, then he slid over to biting and sucking my lips and tounge. It made me very … exaggerated that he pulled me close, bit me, hurt me slightly, then kissed me lightly when I pulled away, until I opened my mouth fully again. Then he would kiss me deeply only to bite again.
I trailed the muscles over his chest up to his nipples and felt they had stiffened. I pressed myself towards him and clutched his back, suddenly wanting more than was given at the moment. He noticed, I think, because he placed his hands on my shoulders and took off my shirt. It slid easily off. This was better, I thought. I was a bit hesitant when he first started fumbling with the claps my black bra, but let him carry on. He seemed to get nowhere and stopped kissing me and swore under his breath.
“Want help?” I panted, suddenly aware of that I was breathing as fast as if I had been running.
“No, I got it,” he breathed heavily and opened the clasp. He smiled as he let it fall to the floor. “It will probably take me a century to understand those.” He became a little more serious as he looked down at my breasts. I felt the fire of desire within me fade slightly when he gazed at me.
“God, you are beautiful,” he murmured and touched my breast with a few fingers. I felt my nipple grow taunt in answer to his touch and, when he seemed lost in thoughts, said “Kiss me.” He met my eyes with his unplacable gaze and did as he was told. A slow, warm kiss that in a short matter of time was built up to a passionate one. He held me with one arm on the upper part of my back and with his other arm the lower part and the sensation of our half-naked bodies pressed together made me tremble, shiver and cringe my hips harder into his. He groaned quietly, as if not wanting to make sounds, as if wanting to be more in controll. That turned me on even more.
I noticed that he, too, had a bit of trouble controlling himself, partly holding and kissing me hard, almost biting, and partly stroking lightly and kissing me softly. I wanted more. I was so turned on I felt kissing wasn’t enough. There was too much clothes… He seemed to think the same as he, breathing hard, bent down slightly and followed my thighs up. He kissed me lightly above my nipple as he pulled my skirt up to my waist. I enjoyed it. His hands on my thighs, the only cloth keeping him out my thongs… His gaze was dark and erotic as he breathed out warm air on my stomach. I gently ran my fingers through his hair once more. He let go of me and stood up kissing me strangely, abruptly, two times. After that, just looking at me. I didn’t understand why he did so, but then, as he indicating behind me, I remembered his bed. I looked back at it. White pillows, white sheets… the only white cloth in his home besides his T-shirt. I looked back at him, suddenly a bit uneasy. His eyes were heavy, dark, shining. I opened my mouth to tell him… then he touched my cheek and gave me the slightly slanting and most seductive smile he had ever given me. He stroked my face at the same time and I felt more then a little bit dizzy…
“I… uh… I… … I…”
“You…” he said and his smile was a little teasing now. He continued to stroke me, perhaps to tell that he was playing…
I braced myself. It was much harder to tell these things than I thought it would be.
“I’ve never had sex with anyone,” I said quickly and silently, hoping and not hoping he had catched it. His hand stopped stroking me and he tilted his head slightly as I saw his eyebrows rise.
“Excuse me?” Damn. I’d have to say it again. “You’ve never had sex? You’re a virgin?” So he had heard me. I didn’t nod, just looked at him as he wore one of his is-this-a-joke-smiles. When he saw I wasn’t smiling he stroked my chin and tilted my head up so his face was directly in front of mine. He gazed in my eyes for a few seconds.
“My, my, my… Miss Matthews is a virgin… Perhaps I should have known when you said you had never drunk red wine… but… you could have been the elegant style that only drinks white… like your mother…” he murmured and stroked a strand of my hair back. “You have never drunk red wine and never tasted desire… my, we are lucky tonight,” he mumbled with his lips almost by mine. When he kissed me next it was a seducing kiss, deep, then teasing, biting. Slowly, perhaps not to alarm me, he put his hands on my breasts and stroked them gently, playing with my nipples with the top of his fingers. It felt good, I give him that. His hands didn’t stay there long, soon they wandered down my stomach and to the skirt around my waist. He kissed me deeply and I felt my lust rise as he placed one of his hands on my back and one on my bum and carefully pressed us together once more, gently cringing his hips to mine. I had my eyes closed and breathed heavily as he started kissing my throat again. Not knowing how I got there, I was against one of the four posters of his bed. It wasn’t very comfortable to be pressed up to a great wooden poster, but I hardly noticed. Now that I had something to lean on I raised one of my legs and wrapped it around his. His hand traced my thigh up, over my bum and to the edge of my thongs. He carefully caressed one of my breasts with his other hand and cringed his hips a little harder this time. I felt the hardness there and knew what I wanted. Knew what he was doing and knowing where this was going. I closed my mind to any thoughts that might make me change my mind and concentrated on him. That wasn’t difficult. He smelled strongly of his intoxicating cologne and his kisses, which tasted of wine in the beginning, was teasing me.
He stopped kissing me for a moment and looked into my eyes.
“I know some girls are very … fond of being virgins, so… if you don’t want to… I’ll not force you, I’ll understand…” But his body pressed to mine, hips grinded into my crouch, his arms on my back and his lips oh so close to mine made it impossible for me to think straight. I panted and felt I wanted nothing more than to spend the night here… with him… in his bed… making love… What felt like an electric shock went through my body and I didn’t even shake my head, I only kissed him, hard, and wrapped my arms around his muscular shoulders. He lifted me up by taking hold of me below my armpits. My back still at the poster, I took advantage of the situation and wrapped both of my legs around his hips, opening my mouth in desire to him and moaning softly as he pressed me against the poster. The hardness in his crouch was just at the point where it could enter me and I dug my nails in his back and pressed myself to him to show what I wanted. Suddenly, there was no longer the wonderful feeling of being pressed against something, he was carrying me the short bit over to the side of his bed, where he kneeled and leaned forwards to lay me down on back, straight across the bed. He then, without untangling us, lay down on top of me and kissed me, gently. Many times he kissed me that way until I broke the trend and went deeper. He slid of so we both lay on side, so that he could unzip my skirt and pull it of. He obviously realised that he had to be slow, so he didn’t touch my thongs, but took of his jeans instead. He had black boxers underneath. Black thongs, black boxers. Blond hair, golden hair. Green eyes, blue eyes. Kissing lips.
Once again I wrapped my legs around his, feeling woozy and not a little bit horny. He went up on top of me again to kiss and stroke me, but I noticed that now that he only had boxers, I could feel his stiff penis. That was a big turn-on. I opened my legs wide apart and indicated with both them and my hands how turned on I was. He slid his hands from my breasts and under my back, kissing and sucking my neck as he grinded his hips to my crouch. I squeaked in pleasure and ran my fingers through his hair as I leaned my head back. Every breath of mine came out with sounds and I noticed that that really turned him on. He groaned and panted and actually stopped kissing me for a while to look away and breath heavily a few times.
“Raphael…” I whispered. He looked at me. I could see my own reflection in his eyes. He didn’t move, only continued his heavy breathing. “Raphael…” He seemed to like hearing his name. Like as in getting turned on. He came up to my face and kissed me, trembling slightly. He was very turned on. I liked this. Now, I could make him yearn for me. I moaned in the kiss, grabbing the mattress edge above my head and pulled slightly when feeling as my blood was liquid fire in my veins. It was turning me on as much as him to kind of take command like this. My lips were almost sore, I noticed as he started kissing and sucking one of my breasts. He caressed with his hand the other one and with his tounge and teeth played with my nipple. I knew the moment was drawing close and it was painful to wait like this.
“Raphael…” I squeaked. A shiver went through him. “Raphael… come…” I panted and buckled my back slightly. He came up to kiss me. I pushed his face away gently and he looked at me as if tortured.
“Raphael… I want to… now… Please…” I added, panting. He was still and only looked at me. I squirmed. “Please, I’ll die if you don’t… Please…” I moaned. It felt like I would die if he didn’t enter me now. He kissed me lightly on the lips, trembling, but in charge again. On his way down he kissed me between my breasts on my stomach and paused to sick his tounge in my navel. I breathed heavily and stroked the sheets in big strokes as it to have something to do, as if lying still would kill me.
I saw and felt his hands on my thighs. I had to put my legs together for him to take my thongs off, and that was a most uncomfortable way to have them. His lightly stroking hands went up to the edge of my thongs and gently pulled them down, all the way to my feet. His hands then followed the inside of my legs up, making me part them again. He placed himself there, still in boxers, leaned over and kissed my breasts and stopped to suck and nibble on the left one. He had his knees by the midst of my thighs so I couldn’t put them together but had to have them spread widely apart. I didn’t care, that was the way I wanted it. He stood on his knees and observed me. I saw his face in the dim candlelight, but could not place his expression. Triumphally? Had he conquered me at last? Was he sad for me? Did he think of me as a prey? His eyes suggested the last, then he smiled, sexily, and all my wondering thoughts were replaced by the throbbing lust to him. His boxers pouted greatly witch turned me on even more, and then he slid them off. I had never seen an erect penis in real life, only on pictures and in some of the porn movies mother doesn’t know her boyfriend has. His wasn’t grotesque in any way, like I had always found the others to be. The hair there was brown, lighter than mine. I felt my crouch was throbbing and aching for him. He leaned over me again, to kiss me. Lightly, sucking, nibbling, perhaps to show me that it was still him. He stood on all fours over me and kissed my throat the same time as he slid his hands down on me. I was a bit nervous now, but his fingers were light and gentle, exploring, finding the wet spot easily, as if done many times before. He surprised me slightly by entering me with one of his fingers, but he didn’t go deep. It hurt, still. He pulled out and bent to kiss me again.
“Relax, now, little star… little bird…” He whispered and held me gently whilst kissing me. He shifted and I felt something hard just outside my vagina. I tensed, and, holding me a little more firmly, he slowly pressed himself into me.
I yelped in pain as my hymen broke and I felt tears fog my eyes for the second time that night. The pain was sharp like a cutting dagger. He was huge, larger then anything I’d ever expected. He pressed himself deeper into me, causing me to squeak in pain as my hymen was so sore. He kissed my tears away and kissed my mouth and eyes, seeming to want to comfort me, to apologise for causing such pain. He lifted from me slightly and I felt him go even deeper. It wasn’t as comfortable as I always had imagined, but now the pain wasn’t as cutting as before. He moved slowly and gently, pressing deeper with every thrust and I began to like it. He had gotten as far in as he could with me and now moved in and out, slowly. I still had tears in my eyes but wasn’t crying anymore. I placed my hands around his back, under his arms, and closed my eyes. His body pressed to mine was a wonderful feeling, his penis inside me hurt slightly, but I thought I’d probably learn to like it, just as I did with kissing.
The pain became more distant and I moaned quietly as he thrusted gently but firmly. He noticed that I didn’t flinch with pain as soon as he moved so he started being a little more rough, thrusting a little harder. I squirm slightly when a wave of shuddering pleasure flows through my body, pressing my fingers hard in the muscular skin on the back of his shoulders. My legs part themselves even more and I bend my crouch up to him in pleasure. I open my eyes for a second and see him looking at me. I smile then inhale sharply as he made a hard thrust. He keeps on making harder and harder thrusts and I throw my head back and put my legs loosely around his hips. He moans under his breath and thrusts harder and faster, closing his eyes, I see when I open mine for a split second. No, I think to myself, keep closed eyes. That way feels best… I buckle my back and moan loudly as he thrusts even harder. He breathes in short, hard breaths and rise even more from me so that I am forced to hold on to something else than his back. The foot of his bed is within reach of one of my hands and with the other I grab the sheets in a firm hold. He slowly goes harder and faster and moans now with every other breath. I squirm and squeal in pleasure as his penis digs deeper and deeper inside me, my legs now in a 90o angle straight up. My back is bent so far back my head now leans over the edge of the mattress. As hard as he thrusts it’s no surprise that I’m so far out on the bed.
I let go of the foot of the bed and grab my hair in ecstasies when he starts to go almost all the way out before thrusting again, digging deep inside me, making me squirm with pleasure. I squeak with every one of his thrusts and I notice that he gets awfully turned on by that, thrusting harder and harder. He exhales sharply with every one of his thrusts, and as they become harder, my squeaks become yelps of pleasure. I see he has his teeth gritted and eyes squirmed shut when he with practically straight arms is thrusting deeper and deeper inside me. I get a bit surprised when he suddenly stops thrusting so fast and starts going slowly. He doesn’t go all the way out like before, but stays deep inside and goes slowly and deeply, somehow turning me on even more by this. He is now lying on top of me, holding my back and hips, his breathing strained. I put my legs around his hips again and hold him there. My fingers once again dig in his upper back as he thrusts slowly but deeply. He does that for a long time, going slower and slower. I don’t know what he’s playing at, but I like it so I don’t complain. He goes very deep, making me buckle with every thrust, but also so slow that I don’t reach the ecstasies I did before.
He is deep inside me and starts to go faster in small, hard thrusts. I spread my legs wide and smile to myself. Finally, I think we did that in a minute or two…
He goes still slow, but undoubtedly faster then before in small, hard thrusts that makes me tense in the muscles in my vagina. His body touches my clit with every little thrust and it is a strange feeling… I’ve never had it before, small shudders down there… muscles tensing… I want him to go faster, harder, deeper… I want him to tear me apart, to break me…
“Harder, faster! Raphael, harder…” I whisper and cling onto him. His breath is uneven and hot on my neck, I whispered right into his ear. But he goes slower. I get frustrated.
“No, no… no, faster! Faster! No, Raphael…” I hadn’t been able to think straight for I don’t know how long, but now I couldn’t think a single thought. “Faster!” The muscles are tensing, slowly contracting… I must… “Faster!!” I almost shout. I yelp as the orgasm kicks in. He thrusts hard and fast, going deeper and digging me insides, faster, faster, harder… I scream with the electrical shots of orgasm, buckling madly and digging my nails deep in his back. It goes on, on and on, the world is black, contracting muscles and a stiff dick… I scream and yelp with every contraction, wishing it never to end, he groans and holds me hard, thrusting, thrusting… Then it ebbs away. I let go of him like in a dream and spread my arms and legs wide apart, staring up into the roof of his bed. I had never felt that before in my life! The utmost sensation, the pleasure… I want it again, and again, and again, forever…
He is still inside me. He has made no move or retracting. I want him there, always. I want to have hat, sticky sex with orgasms with him for the rest of my life… He is breathing heavily, relaxing for the first time. His head is over my heart and I see his eyes are closed. He is sprawled out just like me. Inside me, I feel he has become soft… I raise my hand and stroke his cheek. He looks up at me, with a new expression in his eyes. Could it be… love?
“You… Good God, you are… great…” he whispered and touched me as I touched him. He seemed to know what I was thinking, stretching upwards and kissing me. I felt my lust all gone, well, almost gone, so I let him pull out of me. He lay down beside me, closes his eyes and breathes out in a sigh. I follow his example and we both lay still.
I then started thinking, what would happen when it came out? What would mother say when she found out that I had a serious affair with my teacher? She would ground me for life. What would my dear boyfriend, James, say? He would be devastated. He mustn’t know, none of them must. But surely I could not keep such a secret? Leslie and Amanda would never tell anyone. Well, Amanda might, if she was under pressure… …It could never come out…
I suddenly regretted myself. I had fallen for him just as I thought I had managed to overcome my feelings for him. I had followed him home to his lair, doomed the moment I walked through the door. I had even walked willingly into his bedroom. He had taken it from there. I saw it all so clearly now, the way he had seduced me. With a pang I cursed myself for being so weak. He had dome nothing but hurting me. He had even hurt me tonight… physically. And in my heart. The ruby jewel I keep so well hidden but is so easy to strike and that shatters so easily… I felt tears in the corners of my eyes when I realised I was just as weak as before. But not now, now I would leave… leave his home… but I would see him at school… Leave school too… he would seek me up at home… Leave town! … he would still find me. He would seek me up. Always. I couldn’t flee from him. The way he charmed me… I had never experienced a feeling like that in my life.
I felt tears burn in my throat. I sniffed and felt tears trickle down the sides of my face and form pools in my ears. I felt and heard him moving beside me, towards me.
“Lynn… Lynn, why are you crying?” I didn’t answer. His hand on my forehead stroked my hair, but I forced myself to think of how much he had hurt me. I would not be charmed again. I had my eyes firmly shut to avoid seeing and being enchanted by his beauty. He was close up to me; I felt his naked body.
“Lynn… Lynn… Angel, little bird… don’t cry… precious…” he murmured in my ear. I knew there was more ways then one to fall for a person’s charm. I turned my head away from his. No, I thought, I will be strong… But he leaned over and kissed my cheek softly. I opened my mouth and inhaled as my sexual feelings for him awoke again. He took advantage of the opportunity and turned my head back to kiss me on the lips. His lips were as soft and warm as wet velvet, like they always were, and the tip of his tounge playing with mine. He kissed me gently, no teasing this time. He pulled me closer by my waist, smelling my hair and stroking my back.
“I’m sorry for hurting you… I know I have… but… I I don’t think I could ever make my mind up. This is illegal, you know. You’ll be expelled and I’ll be fired… I don’t care about my job, it’s not important… but you… I could ruin your life. I don’t want that.” But you already have, I thought. But I wasn’t particularly angry anymore, my crying had become wet sobs. He hugged me tighter and smelled my hair as he stoked my back. His cologne went right to my head and I realised so clearly that it hurt that I already was charmed. I had been for ages… but now, now I really was his, his amusement. Amusement and pleasure. I sobbed even more.
“I’m sorry…” he said in a broken voice. If I had looked at him I would have seen the tears in his eyes too. But I didn’t. “Forgive me, please…”
I forgave him, like so many times before. And, like so many timed before, he would hurt me again. And I would forgive him, because I had to. Because I loved him.
“I love you, Raphael,” I whispered softly, but I know he had heard it. He seemed to flinch, then shook, as with laughter, but no sound came. Then I noticed that he was crying, into my hair. I sniffed loudly and wrapped my arms around him. I love you, I love you, I love you, I thought.
What have I done? I never meant it to be like this… It wasn’t supposed to get this serious… my sires will be furious with me… She is so beautiful. And I took her most precious possession in my rage of desire, not even thinking of the consequences… Here she is now, lying in my arms, trusting me, loving me… she seems so fragile, like a little bird. A bird whose neck could be broken easily, a bird that landed in my hands for me to clip her wings… A little bird, hurt and raped, a bird it would be best to kill right now. To end her suffering…
I feel my fangs forming. The light scent of her hymen blood lingering… I should, right now… She wouldn’t even feel the pain. I kiss her skin…
No, I can’t. I can’t kill her.
I can’t. …because I love her.
Our eyes meet and through tears we look in each others eyes. Hers green, his blue. She a mortal, him an undead, Nosferatu, a vampire. Over the gap of death they kiss, with love as the bridge.