by Sierra Hill
17
Kylah
All my worries and anxieties I had prior to Van picking me up for the concert have flown out the window.
The concert was everything I’d hoped it to be and more. The crowd was insane – jumping and screaming along in rippling waves across the auditorium - the music and performance incredible, and being next to Van the entire night was better than I imagined it could be. Way better than my fantasies.
I am so gone for this guy I don’t even know what to do with myself.
At one point in the show, we were stuck in the middle of the crowd and I couldn’t see over the guys in front of me, who were all built like skyscrapers. So Van, being a chivalrous gentleman, picked me up and placed me on his shoulders. I was a little self-conscious at first, because on top of his tall, broad body, I towered over everyone. Thankfully I’d chosen to wore a pair of jeans and not the dress I had originally planned on wearing.
As they played the last song of the show - my favorite, Trees, we swayed to the music, singing along with five thousand other fans - Van slipped his hand through mine and brought it to his mouth. The light stubble on his lips and chin scraped against my skin and my heart fluttered in pleasure. I tipped my face up to him to find his eyes glistening in the strobe lights, telling me exactly what he was thinking. A swirl of butterflies took off in my stomach, leaving a wake of excitement between my legs.
Then, as if in slow-motion, he bent down and took possession of my lips. His tongue slid expertly into my mouth, hungrily dueling with mine, in a quest to show me how much he wanted me. Van’s very large palm held me behind my head, pulling me him, as I
sunk…
sunk…
sunk into his kiss.
When he finally let me go, I was swimming with need – dizzy from lust. And then my body was doused with gasoline, the fire burning within me blazing in the pyre in my soul when he moved his lips toward my ear and whispered.
“You make me so crazy, Ky. I want you so badly.”
Everything around me ceased to exist. All I saw…all I wanted…all I needed in that moment was Van. Without feeling the need to speak, I reached up to thread my fingers through his hair, yanking his mouth back to mine. I might have murmured “Yes” while I kissed him some more.
I thought I’d be more nervous than I am when the time finally came to lose my virginity. I prepared myself with a last minute conversation with Kady before I left tonight about the in’s and out’s of the whole process. What I should expect – the uncomfortable pain I might experience – the moment before where uncertainty might clog my thoughts – and the potential rush of gooey feelings afterwards that Kady told me to “avoid at all costs.”
She says she’s worried that because of my personality, there’s potential for me to become too attached to Van, and heaven forbid, fall in love with him. And then, if that were to happen, she’s certain a broken heart is inevitable. It’s all doomsday and zombie apocalypse with her.
I’m not worried, though. Yes, Van will claim the title of being my first lover, which only means he’ll forever hold a special place in my heart. But that doesn’t guarantee he’ll will feel any differently toward me. I’m very pragmatic going into this and understand the ramifications. There’s also the little teeny, tiny fact that he’s just getting over his ex and probably has residual feelings there that won’t easily wash away just because he sleeps with me.
Aside from all those troubles, there’s also one gigantic subject that I have yet to broach with Van. To my knowledge, and I know I haven’t said anything, Van doesn’t know I’m a virgin. Now, he’s a fairly smart guy, so there’s no doubt in my mind that he knows I’m inexperienced. And while I’ve tried to hide it through my dorky attempts at sexual prowess, it’s relatively easy to conclude I haven’t been with a lot of guys. A fact which I even shared with Van early on in our friendship.
But that was then and this is now. Shit’s getting real now and time is of the essence. Van’s told me he wants me badly, and I him, so there’s really nothing left to lose - except the obvious.
As we enter his dorm room, he flips the light on his desk lamp in the corner, which casts a soft yellow glow across the floor, the shadows creating dark blankets throughout the room.
His voice is low, almost bashful when he speaks. “I got you a birthday present.”
My head pops up in surprise, mouth slightly agape. “You did? Oh wow. But you got me flowers yesterday. I didn’t expect anything, Van. You shouldn’t have.”
He projects a shy smile. “It’s nothing, really. Trust me. But when I saw it, I knew I had to get it for you.”
Van stops in front of his chest of drawers and pulls open a drawer, reaching in and grabbing a small wrapped package. It even has a bow affixed, slightly askew. This boy is so thoughtful.
“No card, though. Sorry.”
I take the gift from his hand, waving him off like he’s full of nonsense. The package is fairly small and floppy in my hands. I sit down on the bed and begin to open it; carefully. With purpose.
Van chuckles at my meticulous process, and I laugh, too. This is the way I’ve always been, even as a young child. Where Kady would go hog wild and frantically rip at her gifts, I took my sweet time. Savoring in the quest – allowing my imagination to grow wild with possibility.
“Just rip it.” He encourages, taking the bow from me and placing it on top of my head. “That’s a good look. You could start a new trend.”
I shake my head. When the paper is completely undone, I unfold the gift and hold it up in front of me to get a good look. It’s a white print tee, similar to the ones I typically wear. Except this one is a Deadpool print with the slogan Did someone say Chimichangas?
I burst out laughing because we had this very debate over the phone a few weeks back about which is better – tacos or Chimichangas. He likes tacos, and you guessed it, I’m a Chimichanga girl.
“Oh my gosh, Van. This is perfect. I absolutely love it!”
I spin toward him and wrap my arms around his back, pulling him into a hug. My face is nestled in the crook of his neck and his skin is radiating warmth, along with an intoxicating scent of a light, spicy cologne, and something distinctly Van. He turns his face so his nose is buried in my hair, just at my ear.
“I’m glad you like it.”
Van Gerard could have given me a box of rocks covered in mud and I would’ve thought they were made of gold.
“Are you going to try it on to make sure it fits? Maybe give a little twirl.” He says in a humorous manner, using his finger to demonstrate the movement, but there’s a different meaning hidden under the surface.
“You just want me to take my shirt off for you.” It’s a statement, not a question, meant to tease, but I swallow the heavy lump in my throat. There’s a serious implication there, too.
His voice is deep and raspy, his eyes narrow as he watches me. “Maybe.”
This is what I came for, I remind myself, as the nerves begin take shape inside me. My hands tremble lightly as I set the shirt down on his knees and begin to unbutton the blouse I’m wearing. I watch as his eyes as they track my movements, starting at my collarbone and working their way down to the last button. I give my bottom lip a bite, as I peel back the shirt tabs, exposing my belly and my bra-covered breasts.
I’m standing within reaching distance of him, as he raises his hand, the tips of his fingers spanning out against my sternum. I suck in my belly with my gasp. He draws a path toward my center with his calloused index finger, circling my navel before he leans forward to lick it. My breath hitches in a gasp as he moans against me.
“I love your outtie. It’s so fucking sexy.”
His compliment has me consumed with need as the weight of his hands circle my waist, pulling me toward him, his legs opening into a V so I can wedge between them. He’s a little more than eye level to my breasts and he takes full advantage. One hand dutifully cups my lime-green demi-bra, his thumb skimming over my nipple which immediately pebbles under his to
uch.
In order to aid things along, as well as keep my hands occupied, I reach behind my back to unclasp my bra, letting it fall down my arms and onto his lap. We both look down at the discarded lingerie, briefly staring at it, until he lifts his heavily darkened gaze again to my naked breasts. The warmth and admiration in his eyes has me shuddering with pent-up need. I wonder if it’s possible to come from just a look.
I’ll never know the answer to that, because he resumes his adoration of my breasts, both hands now playing with them. Squeezing, plumping, lifting, sucking. All of it makes my legs shake from the exquisite feel of his touch. I arch my back when he bites my nipple between his teeth and the movement presses me further into him, one of his hands splayed wide in the middle of my back to support me and keep me pinned. I can now feel the steely hardness of his erection hidden underneath his shorts.
I slide my hands through his hair and sift through the soft waves, his moans telling me he likes my touch. He returns his mouth to my lips, his tongue sweeping in and claiming me. We kiss for several minutes with unrestrained lust, my heartbeat dangerously ratcheting up to unprecedented heights. A throbbing ache has begun a slow build between my legs, which I desperately try to eliminate by rocking my hips against his erection. My sex clenches in anticipation, wetness pooling in my panties.
I feel like I’m in some dream, where his beautiful dark eyes hungrily drink in my nakedness. My body is suddenly left standing on its own as he releases his hands from me and grabs the back of his T-shirt, yanking it up and over his head. I can’t help the small gasp of air that leaves my lungs as I look at him in wonder. I’m still amazed that this gorgeous boy wants me. After all these months of waiting, dreaming and hoping he could one day be mine…I finally get my wish.
“What?” He asks, raising his eyebrow at me salaciously.
My words come out in a stuttering breath. “You…you’re just so hot.” He gives me a soft chuckle.
His chest is a golden tan still, even though we’re in December. The small patch of dark chest hair between his pecs is begging for attention, so I sweep my fingers through it, lingering at the hollow of his collarbone, running over the ridge there. I trail my palm down over his pec, rubbing the perfectly round nickel-sized nipple. His body jerks under my touch and I dart my eyes back to his, where I find his eyes closed, a contented smile across his face.
He hums. “Mmm. I like that.”
I don’t know how I got so lucky to end up with Van – our friendship blooming and transforming into something decidedly more. And now here I am, nearly naked with him in his bedroom, preparing to do the most intimate thing there is between two people. It just amazes me and I’m in awe.
I trail my hands around his chest as he continues to give me encouragement. I’m sure we are going much more slowly than he usually does or wants to go, but he hasn’t said anything to the contrary. He’s patient and willing to give me time to explore, seeming to sense that I want to take my time.
I haven’t mentioned my predicament to him yet. I honestly don’t know how to bring it up. I mean, how does one go about that? He hasn’t asked, and it’s not like I’m just going to blurt out at some random point, “Oh hey, by the way. I’m a virgin. I’d like you to pop my cherry. Thanks.”
But I don’t want him to feel duped. Maybe he’s one of those guys who doesn’t sleep with virgins. I’ve heard that’s a real thing with guys. And if I don’t tell him, he may not go as slow as I need him too, and then it might hurt a lot worse.
Gah. I’m just stuck.
The other uncomfortable discussion is how to bring up protection. Does the guy automatically take care of that? I do have a condom in my purse – Kady of course gave me one from her endless supply. I’m also pretty sure I could’ve stolen one from Cade’s room, too, if I had to. I don’t know if it’s needed, though, since I’ve been on the Pill since I was sixteen, mostly because my mom wanted both her girls to have that back-up protection…especially in light of Kady’s free-spirited nature.
All of this leaves a heavy weight on my conscience. At what point are you supposed to talk about these things with your partner? Maybe I should just take the bull by the horns and bring it up. But I’m embarrassed. I don’t want to bring this incredible evening to a grinding halt because of my internal debate. I figure if Van feels it necessary to use a condom, he will. And if not, well, I trust him to know he would never put me in danger. I’m sure he got tested after he found out his ex was screwing around with another guy. Right?
Oh geez, now my brain is all screwed up with a never-ending supply of worry. Van seems to notice, as my hands have stilled on their own accord just above his belly button, my body stiffening.
“Hey, what’s going on?” The concern in his tone has my tongue-tied and thick.
“I, um…I’m on the Pill.” I blurt out.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Van chuckles, both hands cupping my cheeks and his mouth giving me a soft kiss on my lips. I feel him smile against my mouth, and my relief is evident as my entire body relaxes.
“Good to know,” he reassures, placing kisses along my cheek, down to my neck. “I can still use protection, if you want. I’m clean, though, and got tested after…well, after everything.” He clears his throat. We both know what he’s referring to.
Shit. It appears he’s leaving this decision up to me. I wish mental telepathy was a real thing between twins, because I’d call out to Kady for help. Kady, what should I do?
“Oh, uh…I’m good with whatever you want.” Brilliant. Very confident, Kylah.
Chuckling again, Van leans over to the bedside table and pulls out a condom wrapper. Giving me a wink, he says, “We’ll play it safe.”
My heart melts. He’s the most upstanding guy I’ve ever met in my life.
I should use this moment to bring up my virginity. I should…but I can’t. I don’t want him to look at me with anything other than the desire he holds in his eyes right now.
So I shut down my brain, and climb on his lap, straddling him so that he’s forced to lay back on the bed. We begin making out again, our naked chests now plastered together, our lower halves still covered with denim, but rubbing in all the right places.
My patience is waning. I pull back with a sound of frustration, scooting my butt down and over his erection, which elicits a long groan from Van. I begin to unbutton his shorts. He lifts his head and watches me with interest as I pretend to know what I’m doing. Things are going well so far until the zipper gets stuck, because honestly, his hard on is so big, there’s not a lot of room down there.
I’m determined to do this without aid as I pull the material away, loosening the gap, and gingerly glide the zipper down. Success! Van leans up to lend a hand, as I have to sit up on my knees to give him room, watching as he pulls the waistband down and kicks his shorts off onto the floor.
My mouth literally waters at the sight of his erection jutting up toward his navel. It’s so crazy to think that some girls don’t like the look of penises. Everything about the male body – Van’s in particular – is utter perfection. And knowing that his dick is hard and throbbing for release because of me is the biggest turn on ever.
Van covers my hand with his and brings both up to his heavy cock. I follow his lead and allow my fingers to wrap around his length, as we both begin jacking him off in slow, even strokes. Van’s fully erect dick is wide and long, my fingers straining to hold all of him. I watch our joined hands, the smooth movement, as he twists our hands around his shaft.
He lets go, leaving my hand in control of his pleasure, as his eyes close and his head returns to the pillow. The only sounds in the room are our heavy breathing, along with his low murmurs of pleasure.
“Yeah, that’s so good.”
“Just like that, Ky.”
“Mm. Right there.”
None of this is rushed. He seems to relish in the teasing rhythm of my slow hand job. Determining to move things along just a tad more, I lean my head down a
nd lick the tip of his head. The pearl of liquid sits against my tongue as I swallow it down, reminiscent of the first time we were together. The penetrating growl precedes the sudden change of position, as he flips me over onto my back. My gasp is drowned out by his mouth, which opens in a hot kiss to my lips.
His hands begin working at my jeans, unzipping and yanking them down my thighs until they get stuck at my knees. We both laugh as he fights with the material, my legs trying to shimmy and kick them off. Finally relieved of the offending constriction, my body lays open and exposed to him, as his eyes and hands peruse over me.
I’ve never been ashamed of my body. I’m not stick thin like some girls, or as curvy as others. My legs are fairly long, my butt nice and round, my belly not as flat as I’d like, and my boobs a happy B cup. I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation that his calloused fingers provide as they flutter over the tips of my nipples, caressing the underside of my breast, down my middle. He circles my belly button and continues lower. As soon as he hits my center, my hips begin to move on their own accord and he chuckles, but I don’t open my eyes.
I inhale as if I’ve been submerged in water and have just come up for air as his finger slips in between my lips, working through the wet recesses between my legs. He teases and tickles, dipping a finger inside and bringing it back out to sweep across my clit. I moan loudly – squirming under his ministrations. Wanting the torture to end, but hoping it continues. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me and I love that.
My eyes are still closed when I feel him shift and the warm breath he releases at my apex has my head rising to look down at him. It’s the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen in my life. His hair fans out around the tops of my legs, his lips are shiny and he wears the most salacious, sexy grin.
“Open up for me.” He commands, pushing my legs wide as he plants his face at my center.
I squeal as the first onslaught of his tongue licking its way through my sex. He hums against me and it reminds me of that first naughty conversation we had over the phone where he admitted to the fact that he loved to eat pussy. And now, here he is, eating me out. Going down on me. Giving me lady-head.