By this point I was aware of his touches, my mind was racing… “No, Moon, this is too fast! You have to stop!” I wanted it to. Then again there was the other part of me that was enjoying this newfound sensual experience. While the halves of my mental being was busy slugging it out with each other, I could feel his fingers slipping under my bra, caressing my under boob while working their way upwards.
Suddenly, there was it, a jolt like electricity was felt through my being. His finger had just brushed across my left nipple. That shook me and he must have felt me shiver too. I quickly retreated away from his embrace while both my hands quickly crossed themselves over my chest.
My sudden movement must have caught him offguard. I was breathing heavily and slightly shivering. “Dear dear, it’s ok, it’s ok” he was trying his best to reassure me and he crawled to my front and knelt facing me. I was trying to find the words to tell him that I felt all these was too fast and it didn’t feel right. But all I could mutter was “I… I…”.
“Dear Dear it’s ok… Is normal… BFGF is like that…” those were the words he had repeated, as I was making sense of the situation. Brian was going on and on like broken record.
Then he said it…
I love you…
What?
He repeated… I love you…
Call me innocent, call me naive. But to a 14 year old girl, those words were as sharp and they were magical. All my life up to this point, my only experience with the word “love” was telling my parents I love them back when I was in primary school. And of course, my teachers remding us time and again how much our parents love us. Apart from this, my only other experience of “love” was found mostly in my favourite Disney cartoons - Ariel loving Eric that she abandoned her mermaid heritage, Belle telling the Beast she loves him as he lay dying. To me these characters were examples of what ladies did for the guy that loved them. It was at this moment, my mental demon threw me a sucker punch…
“This guy loves you… What are you going to do?”
Brian must have sensed my hesitation. In my dilemma, he raised me to kneeling position and hugged me tightly while frenching me at the same time. This kiss went on for awhile. It succeeded in calming me down and lowering whatever heightened defences I had put up earlier. He knew that the tension within me was dissipating as he lowered my hands that had crossed in front of me. He whispered it to me again…
I love you…
He whispered it over and over.
Naive? Innocent? Probably.
No. Definitely.
With each declaration, internally I felt like Miley Cyrus’ wrecking ball knocking down layer after layer of my walls. He knew he won the battle this round as he successfully pulled my arms down and straightened them, all the while locked in frenching me. Then I felt both his hands move up to my breasts. He held onto my breasts over my tee and bra gently and tried to knead both, squeezing softly. This was momentuous, I never had a guy touch me like this before.
Slowly Brian broke the kiss and leaned back, observing the work his hands were carrying out. I knew his gaze was locked onto me even though I had my eyes tightly shut. Then I felt him let go of my breasts and his hands travelled downwards and stopped at the bottom of my tee. I thought maybe that was it, all he wanted was to cop a feel of the young teenager before him and that was the end of it. Then I felt it. I felt my tee being lifted inch by inch.
If you’d ask me, my definition of magic at that moment would be my hands moving upwards according to the rising rhythm of my tee. I opened my eyes and looked down, staring as my tee moved closer and closer towards me. Soon all I saw was the fabric material of my tee upclose and a very very brief moment of darkness. I had closed my eyes.
When I reopened my eyes, I saw before me, my bra covered breasts. They were exposed to a guy for the very first time. Brian didn’t waste time; he tossed my tee aside and turned his attention to my breasts. Both hands were grabbing my breasts while squeezing and kneading. His fingers were caressing along the edges of the cups of bra, annoucing what the next act would be.
He teased me by playing with the cups, gently lifting them and letting go before my bare breasts came into view. He was playing peekaboo with my breasts. He embraced me tightly while our lips locked again. I kept my eyes closed. At this point, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Mind you, I was 14 years old. 14 and barely a half and all these were completely alien to me. Brian’s hand roamed around my back, from the small of my back to the back of my head while his kisses were continuing their path of destruction of my defenses.
I was in an emotional crisis. I grew up with stories of fairytails where princes and princesses were engaged in courtship before their happy ever after. All these that was happening to me, that I was experiencing was not found anywhere in the books that I read. Would Belle allow herself to be undressed before she became his princess? Would Jasmine allow Aladdin to touch her intimates before they wed? While I did enjoy the sensual experience, I was struggling internally to justify what was happening to me. My mind raced through all that I’ve read and watched to find evidence that this, what Brian was doing to me, was acceptable. I desperately wanted vindication. Alas, I was more like Alice, going deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole.
We frenched for almost an eternity, his hands probably explored and touched every inch of my back before they arrived at where they intended to originally - the hooks of my bra. I could feel both his hands centered on the spot where hook and eyelet were locked together. I felt my bra grew tighter around my chest as he pulled both hook and eye together. I knew what was coming, it was something I experienced daily. The slight tightening feeling before relief. I held my breath. It felt like a lifetime before the sensation of relaxation came.
Brian’s hands moved from my back to my shoulders, gently caressing them before they began their downward descent, taking both my shoulder straps along with them. I always desired to be a princess; I didn’t feel like one. It’s all a lie, a great big lie. There’s nothing “princessy” about a guy removing layer after layer of my clothes. Nowhere have I ever read about princesses being stripped of their intimate garments.
He had broken our kiss and leaned back. Probably in eager anticipation to see his handiwork. My eyes were looking down the whole, afraid to look up and meet his. I observed my bra systematically leaving my chest as he removed them. I was afraid. Afraid of what his reaction when he saw… me. How was I to know? This is the first time I was being undressed by a guy. The shoulder straps soon left my arms, I swear everything happened as though it was in slo-mo. My eyes traced the action of his hands as he tossed my bra, the bra he had just stripped from me to the side and off the bed. I heard them land with dull thud on the floor of my bedroom. I looked at my reflection in my dresser mirror, a sight that I should have been used to now looked foreign to me.
There I was, for the first time in my life, topless.
And to sum it up topless before a guy.
I turned my head and looked at Brian, our eyes met for the first time since he started undressing me.
“Wah…”
He couldn’t stop staring at my toplessness. Slowly, he reached out both his hands and held my breasts. His thumbs gently toying, flicking my nipples. I retracted in reaction, however, almost immediately he grabbed on my waist and reeled me in closer.
“Moon dear dear, you damn chio leh”
Again, another first. I had my first confession, my first time being told someone loves me, first time being undressed by a guy, first time being complimented that I’m pretty (though it was under the circumstance of being semi naked… I bet he’d tell every semi naked girl they’re pretty)
His hand quickly went to work molesting my bare bosoms, squeezing, kneading, twitching my nips. Though I wanted it to stop, I was hating it as much as I was loving the moment. Methodically, he lowered me onto the bed as his mouth engulfed my right breast. For a moment that woke my maternal instinct, my arms cradle his head and held him closer and tighter while he suckled my breast. I concluded that this was probably how mothers react as they nursed their babies.
With each passing moment I could feel him coming on stronger and more forceful. I winced. That was his cue I guess as he broke contact with my breast and returned to kissing me. However, his hands took over where his mouth once was.
Moments later, with one hand he grabbed both my hands (I’m a really petite girl by the way, standing at only 158cm currently) and pinned them down over my head. All the while still frenching me. I was slowly beginning to get used to this. I knew I was responding positively to his kisses despite having both my arms pinned above my head on the bed. I guess the position he got me in fully stretched my female form, causing me to arch my back a little, in turn pushing my little teenage breasts out more.
I never intended to go to this stage of our relationship this fast. But then, it happened. In my mind I thought that this is it, frolicking in bed with a semi nude 14 year old was the limit. I was wrong… As I was lost in the heat of passion, I didn’t pay attention to his other roaming hand. His other free hand had sneakily made its way to my FBTs and slowly inching them down my thighs. Then I felt his finger tracing the entrance of my vagina from over my panties.
One flaw I’ve come to realise is that when I’m vulnerable like this, I can’t find the strength to reject physical advances. It’s like my body is betraying whatever mental instructions there were. A part of me wanted to explore more, the other part wanted to just die there and then.
In my “inattentive-ness”, I not only didn’t realise that he got my FBTs down to my knees, he also had his berms and underwear off. In the heat of the making out, I caught glimpses of his penis. In my mind, all the warning buttons were firing off crazily. “Stop! Stop!” the voice in my head was screaming. I was shivering uncontrollably by this time. Unfortunately, Brian showed no signs of stopping much less slowing down. Inch by inch my shorts were being pulled off, leaving me only my modesty’s last bastion of defence.
His tugging paid off, my FBTs finally left the confines of my legs and like my tee and bra before, he gingerly tossed them off the bed. Tears starting forming at the sides of my eyes. I knew what was coming, though, a part of me was hoping that Brian could leave that last bit of my integrity intact.
So soon as my shorts came off, he immediately focused on my panties. He resumed tracing the outline of my my vaginal slit through my panties and toggling between prodding and poking me at my most intimate.
“Dear dear, you love me ma? I love you a lot leh” I paid no attention to those word as I tried to deal with all the finger teasing he was giving me. He muttered a whole lot of other stuff, none of which I can remember now. Then the invasion on the final bit of my privacy began. His hand went to work on tugging my panties down.
Even as it happened to me, I still held on that rapidly diminishing glimmer of hope that Brian would stop all he was doing and just cuddle me. I looked to the side and with my half closed eyes I saw our reflection in the mirror. The waistband of my panties was now around my left mid thigh and still moving lower with each passing minute. I didn’t have to wait very long, it was inevitable. I felt fabric around my calves, then ankles and finally I didn’t feel them anymore. I kept my eyes tightly shut as his hand was exerting force to pry open my legs.
Wei, you very bad leh.. I have to work too you know
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Kovovo
…. .. sis dun stop here pls
“Dear dear you really damn chio.”
“Dear dear I love you.. you know right?”
“Dear dear you love me too right?”
…
…
Words. I was bombarded by his torrent of declarations. It was him who made me realise that words are just words, and they’re cheap..
“Dear dear I want you. Be my woman.”
Then it happened. A fierce burning sensation accompanied by a sharp searing pain.
Moon, 14.5 years of age, former all-girls’ school elitist was a virgin no more…
Brian has finally fucked me.
Another first for me… My first intercourse.
I felt cheated only because of what happened months and months later in that relationship
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Kovovo
Sorry u felt cheated 😔
Dear readers, here’s a disclaimer.
I’m really writing from memories and unfortunately that means the earlier they are, the more hazy it is too. Therefore, I’ll definitely not be able write every sexual encounter with the same level of clarity and detailed-ness as what you’ve read so far.
That encounter with Brian is an exception, it was my first.
Afterall “the first cut is the deepest” as Sheryl Crow sings.
Many, in fact, most of the incidents from here onwards will most probably be a case of “oh yeah we had sex”
There are memorable ones, however pardon me if I don’t write on par with whatever been posted.
Thanks! =)
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Kovovo
No worries sis pls just write in anyway it pleases u
Oh and 1 more thing… You boys would have discovered by now that I don’t write in a blockbuster style ya?
So nothing like “oooh he fucked me real hard and started pumping me vigorously.”
There might be light traces, but it’s definitely not gonna be all action.
And definitely not dialogue heavy, I’m an aging woman. Give my grey matter and memory cells a break ya? =)
Quote:
Originally Posted by
moonlightzz
Dear readers, here’s a disclaimer.
I’m really writing from memories and unfortunately that means the earlier they are, the more hazy it is too. Therefore, I’ll definitely not be able write every sexual encounter with the same level of clarity and detailed-ness as what you’ve read so far.
That encounter with Brian is an exception, it was my first.
Afterall “the first cut is the deepest” as Sheryl Crow sings.
Many, in fact, most of the incidents from here onwards will most probably be a case of “oh yeah we had sex”
There are memorable ones, however pardon me if I don’t write on par with whatever been posted.