Message-ID: <60147asstr$1270195801@assm.asstr.org>
From: Uther Pendragon <nogardneprethu@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} repost -- "April's First" part 1 {Uther} (mf 1st rom pett)
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Date: Fri, 02 Apr 2010 04:10:01 -0400
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If you are under the age of 18, or otherwise forbidden by law to read
electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do
something else.

This material is Copyright, 1997, Uther Pendragon.  All rights
reserved.  I specifically grant the right of downloading and
keeping ONE electronic copy for your personal reading so long as
this notice is included.  Reposting requires previous
permission.

All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as
public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination
and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly
coincidental.


                          #  #  #  #  #

                          April's First
                       by Uther Pendragon
                    nogardneprethu@gmail.com


Her parents had already chosen the name, April, when she
surprised them by arriving on March 26. They had been much too
busy dealing with her to consider another name. April liked her
name, but had often considered choosing another birthday. This
March 26th, however, she was turning sixteen; waiting any longer
would have been torture.

Brian, seven months older and already licensed, drove her to
the state facility after school. "Right hand side," he said as
she left the building with her learner's permit clutched in her
hand. Brian knew his April.

"You're a licensed driver," she replied, though she did get in
the passenger's side. "It's legal."

"Your father would kill me! It's rush hour, and that piece of
paper doesn't mean that you know how to drive."

"When it's something *you* want to do, you don't care
that my father would kill you." Of course, she knew, her father
would kill her first if he knew that she let Brian kiss her
breasts and stroke between her legs. At least he would ground her
for life. But the exquisite sensations were worth the risk.

"When it's something I want to do," he pointed out,
"*you* don't care that it's legal when you're sixteen."
Brian was making debating points with half his mind. The rest was
concentrating on the driving. His desire for April, never really
absent, was far below his consciousness.

April hadn't thought about sex as legal or not. She enjoyed
everything she did with Brian, but feared the next step. And
desired the next step. And wanted to be a woman. And didn't want
to be a bad girl. She loved Brian, and wanted to be with Brian
forever, and wanted a life before she was tied down. Brian had
enticed her, rather than pushing her, into each step. But they
never went back. She loved the sensations he could evoke, and
everything she read told her that the best was yet to be. But she
rather liked having some limits, something in the future. And the
first time *hurt*. "That's not the same," she said
slowly.

"It's your comparison. Anyway, save a little of your
excitement for the party tonight. 'What was your favorite
birthday gift, April?' 'The only one I care about came from the
Secretary of State.' That would throw a real damper on your
party."

Her mind freed from the labyrinth of desire-and-reluctance,
she contemplated instead the simple joys of anticipated fun,
anticipated attention, and anticipated gifts. "So, what are you
giving me?" she asked.

"Well, you know I have a rule against telling before you open
the package; but this year you'll already have guessed. My gift
was a ride to the State License Facility."

"Liar. Tease."

"I love you, Ape. That's no lie."

"I love you, too. But I want to know now." And she did want to
know now. She also wanted to be surprised. The good thing about
Brian was that she could tease and tease. He would still surprise
her.

"Well, I thought of buying you a car in case you survive
Driver's Ed. But Mom refused to raise my allowance two thousand
percent. So I settled on a postcard for the next time your
parents cut you off from the phone."

"Meany! Anyway, you are on the other end of most of my long
phone calls. Tell me! I'll leave the car without kissing you if
you don't." She withdrew the threat when it didn't work. Their
kiss was long and sweet, worthy of sending Brian off to war.
Instead, he was at her door three hours later for her birthday
party.

When the party was in full swing, the time came to open his
gift. It really did contain a postcard, but the card had a charm
bracelet taped to it to muffle the tiniest rattle. The single
charm was a car.

Brian's humor was notorious, as were April's phone-time
violations. So the attention of the party focused on the
postcard. A charm bracelet was more significant to April than
anyone in the room realized. Her great aunt had shown one to her
on a long afternoon, a biography kept in a box. Even though
Great-Aunt Amber had skipped over two stories, April had felt
deeply honored at being allowed to share so much of that life.
Since her sister Carla hadn't received that honor, April hadn't
mentioned it to her. Brian was the only person that she had ever
told. He had sensed what she didn't say, which was that she
wanted to be able to hold her own life on her wrist one day.

Brian held his breath. He was her steady, which was a
temporary arrangement. The bracelet, meant to hold her life, had
to be a gift from someone significant in her whole life. He
wanted to be that significant to her; he wondered if he was. He
desperately hoped that he was.

She saw the hope and fear in his eyes, and immediately needed
to kiss away the fear. The gift had nearly brought tears to her
own eyes. She crossed to him and said "Thank you." She had
intended a light kiss, but her emotion overcame her.

She was suddenly conscious of her nipples' sensitivity as they
firmed against his chest. She was conscious of his erection
growing against her leg as she opened her mouth to his tongue.
She was conscious of her own moistness as his tongue found hers.
She was belatedly conscious of the whistles of their friends. She
and Brian broke the kiss to look into each other's eyes for a
moment that was hundreds of times more erotic than the kiss. Love
was in his eyes, and a desperate plea that she would find him
worthy to be significant in her life. How could she not? She'd
shared the secret with him alone.

"Put it on my wrist, would you?" she said. His relief showed
that he had heard the acceptance she had intended.

"What was all the excitement?" her mother asked from the
doorway.

"Isn't this a marvelous bracelet?" April said. "Brian gave it
to me."

"Yes dear, it's lovely. Does everyone have enough to eat? I
think I'll stay and see the other presents opened." She did,
without hearing any more whistles. April was properly
appreciative of each gift and more appreciative of her friends
and their pleasure.

At the end of the night Brian stood with April's sister Carla
as April and her mother said goodbye to the guests at the door.
Carla started to clean up the mess as the last couple left. Brian
carried one load into the kitchen for her. "Two minutes," said
April's mother when he got back. "It's a special day."

April walked him out. "I love you," he said when the door was
safely shut.

"I love you, too," she responded. "More than two minutes can
tell." When the porch light went out, they melted into each
other. His tongue searched her mouth as his hands clasped her
hips. Hard nipples and wet crease told her of her excitement; his
erection told both of them of his. She ground her belly against
it as his hand came around to her front. He reached her mound
just as the lights came back on. She jumped back and grabbed his
hands, but then she squeezed them tight. "We'll talk."

"We'll talk," he agreed, and kissed each of her hands before
letting go of them. He walked a little awkwardly toward his
house, turned sideways in hopes of hiding his groin from April's
parents.

She helped clear the worst of the mess and start the first
load of dishes. "Was it all right, dear?" her mother asked. "I
know the Easter holidays made it difficult."

"It was lovely, Mom. Really it was. The party was great, even
if it was a school night. I can't blame you for that. I know that
you wanted to hold it on the fifth."

"I very much wanted another child, but the date wasn't
critical. It was the *doctor* who said that you'd be born
April Fifth. Carla was a week late. How was I to know that you'd
be impatient all your life? I was surprised when you decided to
be born on the 26th, not disappointed." It was an old subject,
they could continue the dialogue even when they were out of
earshot. Soon her mother said, "We'll vacuum tomorrow. Go to
bed."

They headed upstairs. April was dressed for bed when she heard
Carla's unique knock. She let her in and lay under the covers on
one side of the bed. Carla took the invitation to sprawl on the
other side before she spoke. "What happened, Sib?"

They'd been referred to as "siblings" when April was eight and
Carla fourteen. That led to the joint nickname and, much later,
to the rule that talk under that label was absolutely
private.

"Don't be hurt?" April began. Carla nodded curtly. "Great Aunt
Amber has a charm bracelet. Every charm has a story. She told me
most of them back last summer when she visited. I couldn't tell
you because I was afraid that you would mind that she told me and
not you."

"I'm not hurt. She likes you better, but you like her better
than I do, too. It's not like being Mom's favorite, or Dad's, or
even Gramp's."

"Anyway, it was like magic. The charms weren't expensive, but
each held a story. The bracelet held her whole life. Each charm
was significant; each was given her by a significant person. I
told Brian the story, back then. What was nice, was he remembered
and could tell that I wanted something like that. What he was
asking was 'Do I think he is significant in my life?' I figure he
is. He was also saying that he wanted to be."

"I would think he's significant," said Carla. "You spend more
time with him than at home."

"You sound like Mom. Look, Sib, who was your steady when you
turned sixteen?"

"Hmmm? Sixteenth birthday? Joey. Remember him? Coached you in
basketball sometimes."

"Is he significant in your life?"

"Not anymore." Carla waited for more. None came. "I see what
you mean. So you think that Brian may be permanent?"

"I'm sure that he is permanent. I'm sure that he's sure that
we're permanent. I'm not sure that our being sure is a guarantee.
I watched you, remember?"

"Was I that bad an example, April?"

"Sib, you were a great example. I'm trying to be Carla. But
you were in and out of love a lot."

"You'll never be Carla, lucky you. Try to be April. You're in
love with Brian?"

"And in lust with him."

"You haven't?"

"Nothing has changed since we last talked. ... Except the
bracelet. We still do everything else but. Does it hurt the first
time?"

"I did, and cried on your shoulder. And you never told. Thank
you, Sib."

"You've done it for me loads of times. Brian said something,
though." Carla looked interested. "You're a paralegal and all.
Brian wouldn't let me drive home when I got the permit."

"Sib, you are an idiot. I can tell you didn't drive home,
you're still alive."

"Well, I pointed out that it was legal."

"I don't know about that one. There might be some obligation
for the licensed driver to use good judgment. Why else have him
along? Want me to look it up?"

"No. Brian said that other things were legal when I turned
sixteen but I wasn't rushing to do them."

"Not quite true. Yesterday, it didn't count whether you said
'yes' or 'no.' He'd still be committing a felony. Tomorrow it
matters what you say. Are you thinking of saying 'yes'? He should
know that age doesn't matter if you say 'no,' to him."

"Brian's not like that. So the law is all about him, and not
about me. I'm not thinking enough about saying 'yes,' if you know
what I mean. Every time I'm with him, even the two minutes on the
porch -- that went awfully fast, by the way. Did Mom change her
mind?"

"I handled the light switch. You had two and a half minutes,
not counting the time before I turned it off. Anyway ..."

"Anyway," April cut her off, "every time I'm with him, I
really don't feel like stopping. Then I feel all scared of going
on. Does it always hurt the first time?"

"My first time hurt like hell. I don't know about anybody
else's. I was eighteen, and I came back to cry in the arms of my
thirteen-year-old little sister because there wasn't anybody else
I could tell. And I went on to have several romances where it
didn't cause pain, but ecstatic pleasure. Then I fell in love
with my boss who is happily married to a pregnant woman who is
perfectly nice to me every time she calls and whom I hate with a
passion. And my little sister has had more romance in her life
than I have for the last six months, and more sex, too. And I
don't know if it hurt anyone else."

"Look," April said, "I'm sorry about this."

"No. You aren't to blame. Jeff Benton isn't to blame. Mrs.
Benton isn't to blame."

"And you aren't to blame. You haven't done one thing
wrong."

"That's because I haven't done one thing. Anyway, the law says
that you weren't competent to give consent last week, but you
will be next week. That's about you. That doesn't mean that you
should, or even that the law permits you to have sex. What it
means is that it makes a difference whether you say 'aye' or
'nay'."

"And which do you think that I should say?"

"'Nay.'"

"Huh? My non-judgmental sister?"

"That's a decision that you can change," Carla pointed out.
"The other one isn't. Besides, when you want my advice, you
aren't ready to take that step." She got up. "Sleep tight, Sib."
April, to her own surprise, did.

She and Brian couldn't really talk seriously at school the
next day, but the day after was Good Friday and school was out.
Brian drove her over to the school parking lot and let her drive
in low gear. In the pauses, they talked. "The gift was sweet, but
did you really mean that you want to be someone I'll remember at
sixty?" she asked.

"Ape, I want to be someone you *talk to* at sixty." He
loved her. Couldn't she see that?

"You scare me." He did. She was terribly frightened of saying
that she felt that way, of saying that she didn't.

"That isn't a proposal. It's what I want. That's what you
asked, after all." And it was what he wanted, one thing he
wanted.

"I'm still scared," she said.

"Never be afraid of me. Look, this isn't getting us anywhere.
Let's try again, and this time move the wheel half as far as you
think that it needs to move." Inevitably, however, they did talk
more, then and Saturday. Sunday was Easter and a family day.
Monday night, Brian took her to the movies. Afterwards, they
parked in a very secure place.

For a while, they shared the back seat while they kissed and
hugged. Then, she had the whole seat -- but still needed to bend
her knees too much -- while Brian knelt on the car floor beside
her. He eased her jeans and panties down to her ankles but
started again to kiss her mouth. His hand stroked her thigh while
his tongue licked hers. She wanted his caresses, she wanted more,
she wanted him to talk sweetly to her as he used to when these
caresses were new. When she parted her thighs wider, he stroked
up to their junction. She gasped into his mouth as he clasped her
there.

"I love you, Ape," he said. He did love her, and he wanted
her, and he wanted to speak of his desire, but he knew that she
wanted to hear of his love. He parted her lower lips and dipped
his fingers into her moisture. His mouth switched to her breast.
They both were silent as he licked her nipples and stroked her
clitoris until she tightened in preparatory agony. He had to keep
himself from rushing it. He thirsted for her response, and he
ached for her fingers to bring his own. When he saw that she was
about to begin, he thrust two fingers into her and sucked hard on
her nipple. His thumb brushed circles over her clitoris while she
bucked and gasped through her climax.

The tension pulsed through her like storm waves hitting shore.
She loved him, she wanted him. He continued to stroke her until
she collapsed.

"I do love you, darling April," he said. At that moment, he
loved her more than life itself. "I'll love you forever. Can't
you believe that?"

"I love you, too, Brian," she said. She loved him with all her
heart, and she wanted him more than that. "God! I wish we had
something."

"I do," he said. "Do you mean that?"

She had when she said it. She wondered if she did still. She
did, but she was cramped, and the clock was ticking. She started
to struggle back into her clothes.

He was ecstatic for one second. They were going to do it. He
was going to do it. He loved her. And wanted her, and wanted
desperately to be a man, and wanted to claim her as his. Then he
saw what she was doing. "You didn't mean that."

"I meant that. I wish we could. But not here. And we have
what? Fifteen minutes to get me home." Why had she said that? Why
had she said it then? Why hadn't Brian, supposedly so empathetic,
understood that it was a *wish* not a promise.

"You didn't have to say it if you didn't mean it." Brian was
already getting behind the wheel. April got out, redid her bra,
and straightened her other clothes. "I meant it when I said that
I love you."

"I meant it, Brian. I love you and I want to show you that I
love you. A girl's first time is special. It should be a special
person and a special place. You are a special person; you are
important to me. But ..."

"But that would have been a horrible place," Brian was already
driving close to the speed limit. The evening was over. "I can
live with that. I can't find you a special place with silk sheets
and champagne in an ice bucket. You couldn't get out overnight
even so. It's just cruel to say that you would do it under
impossible conditions."

She usually took care of Brian after he took care of her; this
time she hadn't, and now it was too late. He was taking all this
in quite the wrong spirit. She dreamed of walking down the aisle
with Brian, why was it wrong to dream of going to bed with him?
But he treated sharing that dream as if it were an attack on him.
"Not impossible. Just not there. I do love you."

Boys, Brian suddenly saw, spoke of love to justify sex; girls
spoke of it to justify abstinence. Was he any better? Well, yes.
He wanted April on a permanent basis, marriage; it was just that
this permanent basis wasn't possible. "I love you, too," he said.
"I wish I could just take you home. 'This is my woman, world;
what do you want to do about it?' But that's a twin bed with
cracks in the plaster over it. That's not special either."

April had a vision of a caveman dragging her off, but Brian's
possessiveness was attractive as well. "I wish that I could take
you home, too; but they would never understand. I'd be more
nervous about them pounding on the door than about a stranger
coming by when we were back there."

"My room isn't a special place, but I do have privacy until
Mom gets home around six-thirty." He was desperate now.

"You're serious?" she asked. "Yes, you are serious."

"I'm one hundred percent serious. The question is are
you?"

April thought that this wasn't really the question. She
seriously loved Brian; she seriously wanted to be a woman. She
also seriously wanted to avoid pain; she seriously wanted to
avoid being a slut. She seriously wondered whether she was ready
for this; she seriously wondered if she ever would *really*
be ready.

If she were going to do it, she thought, this was the right
time. She knew the joke about what you called people who used the
rhythm method, but she wanted her timing to be safe, anyhow.
She'd have her period Thursday, maybe Wednesday. She didn't want
to be messy her first time, nor wait for weeks suspecting she'd
caught despite everything. If she were going to do it, tomorrow
was best.

Lord! She was thinking of doing it. He was special, could he
be any more special? Waiting for the right man made sense;
waiting longer with Brian didn't. He was the right man. She hoped
he was the right man.

Brian had stopped thinking. The only thing in his mind was a
picture of April in a bed. He drove while she sat silent beside
him.

She took a deep breath and said, "I'll ring your bell tomorrow
after school."

"Tomorrow?" he gasped. "Oh, my love. I do love...." He slammed
on the brakes and turned to face her in the unmoving car.
"Tomorrow! Ape you wouldn't! Look, I know that you love April
fool jokes.... Between your name and your birthday, who can blame
you?  ... But you wouldn't play that game on me, would you?
There's Brian waiting in his house, and April doesn't come, and
doesn't come, and then she shows up with half a dozen
girlfriends."

"I wouldn't do that to you. You're special to me. I can see
doing that. Believe me, I can see it; but this is too important
to me to make a joke of it. Look, start the car will you. I have
to get home. If I get grounded, I won't come over tomorrow."

They made it just in time. For the first time in months, April
left his car without a good-night kiss. April spent the night
regretting her rash promise. She decided that the bracelet was
causing her to make Brian more significant than he really was. If
she lost her virginity to him, that made him significant. She was
tempted to throw away the bracelet and wait. But that was
ridiculous; she loved Brian, loved the way he could make her
feel. Could another boy make her feel like that? In some ways,
certainly; but loving Brian was part of the feeling. In any case,
going to Brian's tomorrow was less sluttish than going looking
for another boy to make her feel that way.

Brian had received no relief. He headed straight for his room
when he got home. While he stripped, he pictured April in his
bed. That was great, but anticipation would be better. He
pictured her entering his room, pictured himself removing her
blouse, pictured her looking about his room, pictured her being
appalled at the mess.

That would be horrible. He started straightening his room. He
put on his robe to take all the fragrantly dirty clothes from his
corner to the laundry baskets in the basement. He grabbed a clean
set of sheets and pillow case, but decided to wait until morning
to change the bed. The *Playboy*s went into his closet.
While there, he gathered all the loose hangers and shoved the
clothes to one side. Then he hung up everything that was sitting
around loose. He fetched a condom from the hiding place, placed
it in the drawer next to his bed, and dropped a paperback book on
top of it.

With all the preparation that could be done in silence done,
he set the alarm a little early and adjourned to his
anticipations. He pictured April walking in the door and removing
her clothes. When her image reached over and touched his cock,
the real one erupted. He cleaned up and dropped off, thinking of
the taste of April's breasts.

April alternated between a stew of reluctance and daydreams of
anticipation that day. Not only did she not learn anything in any
of the classes, but her emotions utterly defeated her deodorant.
She felt sticky. She located Brian in the hall before his last
class. "Look," she said, "I'll have to be twenty minutes
late."

"That's fine," he replied. "I trust you to come."


Continued in part 2
April's First
Uther Pendragon
nogardneprethu@gmail.com
1997/04/01
1997/12/21
2000/04/01
2001/04/01
2002/04/01
2003/04/01
2004/04/01
2010/04/01

For a quite different story of a girl's first
sexual experience in a quite different time, see:
/~Uther_Pendragon/med/rampant.htm
"Rampant"

This is indexed with my other stories of
teenagers under:
/~Uther_Pendragon/yl.htm   --   "Young Love"

The index to almost all my stories:
/~Uther_Pendragon/index.htm
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