From: Uther Pendragon <anon584c@nyx.net>

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                              APRIL'S FIRST
                           by  Uther Pendragon

Part one:

Her parents had already chosen the name April when she surprised them by
arriving on March 26, 1981.  They had been much too busy dealing with her
to consider another name, but April 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.  He 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 the 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.  The exquisite sensations, however,
were well 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 now 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 she desired
the next step.  And she wanted to be a woman.  And she 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 pushed
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."  Which freed her mind from the labyrinth of
desire-and-reluctance.  Her attention switched to 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.  On a long afternoon the previous summer, her great aunt had
shown her one, a biography kept in a box.  Even though Great-Aunt Amber had
skipped over two charms, 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 thought
that you might 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?"
     "My first time hurt, and I 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 what 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.  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, but
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," she said as soon as she was settled in the seat.
"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 gave him her virginity, 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 imagined 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."
     She was a little dismayed by that easy acceptance;  but Brian also had
some preparations to do.  On the bus home, he decided that showering was
more important than vacuuming.  After the shower, he dressed in shorts,
slacks, shirt, and slippers.  He shut the doors to his mother's room and
the guest room before he started vacuuming his room.
     He wasn't finished when he heard the doorbell.  He ushered April into
the house and closed the door before they kissed.  She was wearing a nice
dress, but not a fancy one.  "Look," he said, "give me five minutes."
April felt awfully lonely sitting in the living room, listening to the
vacuum run.
     "Couldn't he finish his chores *afterwards*," she thought.  There was
a clatter as the vacuum was pushed away into another room, and he was back.
     "Sorry," he said.  "I might not be able to provide the silk sheets and
champagne, but I figured that the piles of junk and the dust bunnies would
be a little much."  She felt better about that, much better after he kissed
her enthusiastically.
     "You didn't have to do that."
     "Sure I did," he answered.  "I only wish that I could have done more.
Do you want a Coke or something?"  Slightly more than he wanted to strip
her and enter her, he wanted to communicate that he cared for her as a
person and wasn't only thinking about stripping and entering her.
     The awkwardness of the situation had already made April feel
uncomfortable;  Brian's lame attempt at being a host made it worse.  "No,"
she said, "nothing."  When he took her hand and led her to the stairs, she
realized that she had refused any chance at delay.  On the top floor, only
two doors weren't shut tight.  The fully open door was obviously his room,
and she walked into it.
     "Why am I doing this?" she thought.  She looked around.  He clearly
hadn't been compulsive about straightening things up, but the floor was
clean and no clothes were visible.  Several sports posters were on his
walls, dominated by a huge one of Michael Jordan shooting a basket.  This
was at the foot of his bed.  The bed.  It was neat with the sheet folded
back and the blanket in a folded pile at the foot.  It was really a narrow
bed, as narrow as hers.  Yet it looked awfully intrusive in the room.
     This fulfilled Brian's fantasy of the night before, April in his room.
He slowly came up behind her and put his arms around her.  She turned,
partly to take her eyes off the bed, and ducked her head into his shoulder.
He kissed her forehead.  "I do love you," he said.  "I love you very much."
     "Oh, I love you too."  She must, or this afternoon was a horror.  She
raised her face for a real kiss, and he was gentle and tentative and kept
his mouth closed.  Then he licked her lips before penetrating them. The
kiss was long and hot before he moved his hands from her back.  Then he
shifted, still with his mouth joined to hers, so that he could reach the
buttons on her dress.  He undid all of these before breaking the kiss.  He
brushed the dress off her left shoulder and kissed the point of her
shoulder bone.  Then he moved inward from that point, kissing to her neck
and then her ear.  She shivered at these attentions and wiggled to escape.
     "Does this go up or down?" he asked, holding the collar of her dress.

End of part one.
Continued in part two.
April's First
Uther Pendragon


                           #     #     #     #

                             APRIL'S FIRST 02
                            By Uther Pendragon


Continued from part one.
Part two:


     "Does this go up or down?" he asked, holding the collar of her dress.
     "Huh!"  she answered.  "Down, I guess."  He brushed the sleeves off
her shoulders and held it as it fell away.  Turning from hanging it in the
closet, he got a clear look at her in her bra and panties.  They were
matching, frilly, and white.
     "White for a virgin," he thought.  He would be first;  she was
untouched.
     She had chosen the sexy underwear for him, but hadn't imagined his
staring at her from yards away.  The light streaming in the windows seemed
suddenly glaring.  Her arms moved of their own volition to cover breasts
and groin.
     Seeing this, he closed the gap between them and held her again.  "You
look lovely," he said.  They kissed again, while his hands passed all over
her smooth back.  She put her glasses on the desk.  She felt less exposed
when everything around her looked fuzzy.
     She returned to his embrace.  His hands resumed their wandering,
passing over her hips and sides and back.  They stopped, finally, at the
bra clasp; he drew back.  "Look at me," he said.  With his eyes locked to
hers, he undid the clasp and drew it forward.  She shrugged the bra down
her arms, and he took it from her.  He looked straight into her eyes while
tossing the bra onto the desk, then deliberately dropped his gaze onto her
chest.  She blushed again, but her nipples hardened.  "You are so
beautiful," he said.
     When he kissed her this time, his hands slid all over her breasts.  He
hugged her with his left arm until his right hand was trapped between her
breast and his chest.  She was aware of his kiss, and the fire spreading
from her breast, and his hardness against her belly.  He moved her
backwards until she felt the bed pressing against her legs.  She pushed him
away and sat to remove her shoes.
     Insufficiently hidden by the sheet, she watched him strip.  She'd seen
that naked chest before, although seldom so pale.  She thought that his
tented underpants were ridiculous, but he kept them on when he followed her
into bed.
     Again, he kissed her.  Then his kisses were roving all over her face
as his hand roved over her torso.  His mouth passed down her neck and chest
to her breast.  He held the breast up to his eager mouth as he licked and
sucked.  His hand spread her thighs and caressed them as he switched to her
other breast.  She was flushed and panting, and her hips were seeking his
hand before he moved back on his knees.  "Help me," he said as he tugged at
her panties.  She slipped them down off her hips.  He removed them the rest
of the way.
     The afternoon light gave him a clearer view of her nakedness than he
had ever had before.  Her face was slightly flushed as it was after she
ran hard.  Her breasts were whiter than the rest of her skin, firm mounds
topped with red-brown areolae and nipples.  Her slim belly led to a sparse
patch of hair, gold rather than the bronze on her head.  Even from his
position he could see through the hair to the engorged outer lips and a
faint line that suggested the inner ones.  Much as he regretted covering
such beauty, he couldn't resist touching it.  He rested his palm lightly on
the delta before looking in her eyes.  "You are so beautiful," he said.
Then he closed his fingers on her fleece.
     She warmed to his touch before flushing at the compliment.  She
yearned for his fingers and knew how they could thrill her.  She feared his
intrusion which seemed so imminent now, but wanted this waiting to end--if
even in pain.
     He eased himself down on his side again.  As he began a deep kiss, he
parted her labia with his fingers.  He stroked her moisture upward, then
across her clitoris.  He repeated this for what seemed to be forever, but
finally she stiffened.  He broke the kiss to say "I love you, April."  Then
he moved back to the peak of her breast.
     When he dropped to his side, she relaxed a little.  The kiss was
familiar, and the strokes toward her center were delightful.  Only the
expectation of his pounce distracted her from the flow of pleasure, then of
tension.  When the tension came, however, it brought with it a feeling of
love for devoted Brian.  He brought her so much pleasure and took such
effort to bring it, that he must care for her.  Just when she was thinking
that, he said it.  Buoyed by a rare agreement of thought and sensation, she
entered paradise--held in his hands, and quite alone.
     He felt her tense under his hand and lips;  then he felt her shudder
and finally collapse.  "Oh, my darling," he said.  And she was his darling,
and she was his, and she would really be his.  That thought sent him to the
drawer.  He shoved down his shorts with the condom in his hand, then
fumbled open the foil and tried to figure which side went on him.  That
solved, feeling the peculiar tightness of the rubber on his throbbing
member, he tried to climb between April's legs.  There was barely room for
one knee.
     April went from ecstasy to lassitude to loneliness in seconds.  She
wanted Brian to hold her.  Then she almost panicked.  He towered over her,
too far away to be comforting, near enough to be threatening.  She had seen
his cock peeking discreetly up from his lap, held it and stroked it, felt
it stiffen and pulse and soften.  Now, however, Brian was kneeling erect
above her thighs.  His cock was projecting above her.  It looked much
larger than she remembered, shiny white, and very threatening.
     She couldn't bear looking at it, but she couldn't tear her eyes from
it.  Then she did, and his face was more frightening.  He was as grim as
she had ever seen him, when he was supposed to look soft and loving--and
happy, *one* of them should be enjoying this.  She tore her eyes away once
more, and saw an orange blob.  "What was that?" she thought.  "Oh, the
basketball on the poster."  She tried to focus on that.
     He bent to kiss her breasts once more.  The nipples' response was as
enthusiastic as ever.  He felt her relax and then move her hips.  He pushed
against her left leg but got no response.  He took his mouth form her
breast to speak.  "I love you, April," he said.  "Let me."
     The words brought her attention back to his face.  He was looking
worried now, and his voice--at least--was soft.  She couldn't remember
her reasons to fear him or to resist.  Slowly she parted her legs.  He
knelt between them before pressing them wider apart.
     He could tell that she was nervous and that her acceptance was more
mental than physical.  He spread his own knees to hold the territory that
he had gained before bending his lips once more to her breasts.  This time,
his hand was busy at her entrance.  First he smoothed her liquid over her
clitoris and the folds around it.  Then, as her breath increased, he used
the tips of his fingers to open her and spread the lips wide for his
approach.
     She felt a gathering excitement and then herself being opened.  She
felt him kiss her just before he nuzzled into her opening.  "Don't hurt
me," she begged silently.
     He was there.  He could feel himself at her entrance, about to become
a man.  "Say yes," he begged, then added silently, "Don't be hurt."  He
wished that she wouldn't look so scared.
     She braced herself, then said, "Yes.  Please yes."  He moved inward
gently, awkwardly.  It stretched her a little, but caused not the slightest
pain.  Then he filled her completely, and she held him completely.  She
widened her thighs to let his groin press against hers.  It was painless.
More than that, it was glorious.
     Brian's entire consciousness seemed concentrated in his cock as it
pressed into April.  The smooth progress, the tight pressure, seemed so
different from his hand or hers.  "I've done it," he thought.  "We've done
it.  We are actually fucking."  Some fraction of his mind, however, was
still conscious of April's tension.  And that part noticed when she
relaxed.  "Darling," he asked, "are you all right?"  A moment later, he was
completely enclosed.
     "I'm fine," she said.  "Marvelous.  Oh, Brian!"
     "Do you hurt?  Can I move?"
     "No.  Yes.  Please move."  She gave a wiggle to convey her meaning.
Then Brian began slow strokes in and out.  These evoked a tickling,
tingling feeling within her, something like the feeling his fingers
produced.
     Brian felt the smooth slide through the clasping warmth more acutely
than any sensation that he had ever felt before.  But that was the lesser
part of his elation.  He was doing it at last, and he had broken in a
virgin on his first time, and he had taken her virginity without hurting
her, and *it was April*.  They were together, and they would never part.
And then there was only him and his orgasm.
     He pulsed as he always did, but the emotions which rushed into him as
his seed rushed out were untinged with shame for the first time.  He felt
triumph and he felt love.  He had overcome April and he would never do
anything against her.  Then it was only sensation.
     Then he collapsed.
     April enjoyed his movements within her.  She felt her tension build.
Then Brian was only a gasping weight.  She hugged him for a minute,
thinking that they had done it.  Then he was just heavy, and slipping out.
     Brian grasped the rubber and made sure that it came out with him.  He
turned from her and dropped it in the wastebasket.  He lay on his side
close to her.  "I love you, April," he said.  He waited for a response
before, hearing none, he kissed her.  Then he covered them with the sheet.
"It really didn't hurt?" he asked.
     "No," she said.  Then a thought struck her.  "It really was my first
time, though."
     Brian may have thought that he had become a man;  but he answered as a
boy, concerned only with what bothered him.  "I know.  I can't give you a
ring, Ape.  I don't deserve your virginity."
     "I never asked for a ring.  We have too much to do."  She looked at
him.  He didn't look convinced.  She feared that making her case again
would just be protesting too much.  He had been her first, he should have
figured that out, why was he doubting her now?  She had feared the pain so
much, and now the painlessness was going to make everything worse.  "What's
wrong?" she finally asked.
     "Too much to do," he replied.  "Ape, we have more than two years of
high school left.  Then what?"  He got up.  "I'll be back in a second."  He
used the toilet and then washed off his genitals.  He didn't want to hug
her with that mess on him.
     "I can't support you on a high-school diploma," he said when he
returned.  "I didn't take shop when it was offered, because I was going to
be a college-educated manager.  Not that my parents would have let me.  Not
that I'm great with tools.  And I don't think that I can wait even the two
years!
     "This was great, this was wonderful.  But can we do it again?  Can we
sneak around for--what?--six years."  He flopped face-down on the bed.
     Even to April's self-preoccupation, this did not sound like a boy who
was about to abandon her because of suspicions about her virginity.  Brian
was worrying about their future.  She wasn't sure that she wanted to marry
him, but she was sure that she wanted him to want to marry her.  Everything
that they had done was now all right.  She hugged his back to comfort him,
as she had often done before.  Her breasts were warmed against his skin,
and the hug was suddenly different from any previous one.
     Brian felt two nipples firming against his back.  April had intended
the hug as a comfort, and it was;  but it was even more arousing than
comforting.  "Loose," he said.  When she had loosened her grip, he turned
around to return the hug.  "You're such a wonderful person, April.  It's as
much your problem as mine, but your first thought is to comfort me.  I love
you."  First, they had a long kiss with tongues at play;  then he kissed
her face all over.  When his kisses moved to her breasts, she kissed the
shoulder that she could reach.  He avoided her nipples as long as he could
resist that attraction, but he succumbed at last.  April arched into his
kiss, and the nipple--in extending--seemed to be reaching out for his
tongue.  She gasped and pushed him away.  "Your breasts are so beautiful,"
he said.  "*You* are so beautiful."
     April pushed him down in the bed.  "Let me look at you," she said,
surprised at her own boldness.  He lay flat, though his own eyes kept
roaming over her.  Most of what she saw was the Brian she knew, if a little
paler.  One organ, however, lay flat on his stomach.  It was redder than
the flesh under it, not white or shiny at all.  She smiled at the belated
realization that what she'd seen had been the contraceptive.  When she
reached a hand over for a tentative touch, Brian hissed in a breath and it
firmed in her hand.  "You look like you want to do it again."
     "I want to," he replied.  "I don't have to.  This afternoon is the
finest time in my whole life."  She thought for a moment.  She couldn't
think of any reason not to continue;  then she could.
     "Do you have another of those ... ?"
     "Rubbers," he said and reached for his pants.  "I love you, Ape;  and
this time I'll do it right."  He put the rubber from his wallet on the
corner of his desk before lying down beside her and taking her in his arms
again.
     They kissed again before his mouth returned to her breasts.  Soon his
hand was between her legs, and she was awash in sensation.  He stopped just
when the familiar tension was building.  He pulled her hand to his organ
for a minute, and she felt him swell and stiffen.  She watched him roll the
rubber on, then move into position.  There was a little gentle poking down
there before he found just the right spot and eased in.
     "I love you, April.  Oh I love you," he said as he began to move.  The
movement felt odd until she shifted a bit.  Then it felt almost as exciting
as his hand had.  She tried to hug him, but that interfered with his
motion.  Then she rested her hands on his back and felt the motions above
her as well as within her.  When he bent his head to kiss her, she felt his
chest rub against her nipples.  Again the tension rose within her.
     Somehow, Brian felt his motions within April's cunt more acutely
although his arousal built much more slowly towards its peak.  Her lips
were sweet under his, the hard nipples of her breasts caressed his chest,
her thighs gripped his hips and moved with them.  But it was the most
intimate contact which drew his attention.  He slid up through April's
vagina until only his tip was inside and then thrust slowly in through
warm, slippery, clutching walls.  His legs weren't used to either the
position or the motion, but he could ignore them and go on forever.  He
dropped the kiss, however, to move a little more fully.
     As Brian broke the kiss, April felt the first tendrils of her
anticipatory tautness.  Her attention turned inward and to the motion which
was Brian's, but still within.  She closed her eyes to better savor the
friction.  When she opened them, there was an orange blur at the center of
her vision, being obscured by a flesh-colored blur in time to the motions.
She realized that it was the basketball on the poster hidden by Brian's
shoulder.  That little puzzle solved, she stopped thinking to feel.
     She was rubbed where she had never been rubbed before, she was filled
where she had never realized that she was empty.  She was sheltered and
caressed by Brian's muscular body.  Every thrust tingled her where her
groin and his were almost bumping.  She matched his pace, rising to meet
him and falling back.  Then she tensed until her hips were almost off the
bed.
     Pleasure and relief rolled through her, pulsing along with their
motions.  She moaned, and contracted, and burst into joy.  And still Brian
was moving within her.
     Brian believed nothing could match his sensations;  but when he felt
April move with his rhythm, his pleasure soared.  When she moaned and
clutched around him, the pleasure doubled.  He straightened his arms and
thrust more forcefully to heighten her climax and reach his own which
seemed just one step ahead of him.  Then it seized him and he drove himself
inward and gushed into her warmth.
     He managed to fall sideways.  They lay with their legs entangled and
their torsos apart while they caught their breaths.  They were gazing into
each other's eyes.  Not even teenage anxiety could see anything but love
there.  He caught his breath first.  "Love you,"  he said.
     "Oh, Brian," she answered.  There was so much to say and no words
could hold any of it.  She started to pull the sheet over herself, but he
gestured to stop her.
     "Please," he said.  "You're so beautiful."
     "Okay.  But keep it short, I'm cold."
     He covered her immediately and reached for the blanket.  "That's more
important than my getting to see your beauty."  When they were covered, he
hugged her tight.  "Better way to keep you warm," he said.
     "Much better," she replied.  "You're nicer than any blanket."
     The clock, however, was unsympathetically ticking away.  There were
other pressures, as well.  She soon needed to visit the bathroom.  She
started to dress when she came back.  Neither wanted the afternoon to end;
both could see that it had.
     "You won't tell?" she asked.
     "Never!" he replied.  "You won't?"
     "Carla.  She keeps secrets."  He was worried about that but had to
trust April.  She had trusted him.
     Brian stopped April at the door.  "Are you sure that you don't want me
to walk you back?" he asked.
     "Positive.  It's going to be hard enough for me to pretend that
everything is normal as it is.  I don't want to worry about your pretense
as well."
     "Everything is normal.  Everything is right.  We were meant for each
other, it's just the rules that keep us from saying so."  He kissed her
forehead protectively.  She raised her face for a real kiss, and it was
gentle and protective, then hard and passionate, then gentle again.  They
parted reluctantly.  "Love you," he said as he opened the door.
     "Love you," she responded.  She walked out hesitantly, turned halfway
around, then she firmed her shoulders and strode out towards the street.
He watched a moment, then shut the door.
     This was no time to dawdle.  He put the vacuum cleaner back in the
utility closet and opened the door into his mother's room.  He emptied his
wastebasket into the kitchen garbage, having to pull one of the condoms off
the side as he did so.  The kitchen garbage bag went out to the can in
back.  He opened his window and shut his door before setting the table.  He
wondered if his mother would notice anything;  he wondered if she would
make a comment if she did notice.
     April got home just in time for dinner.  Carla was at night school,
and her parents didn't seem to notice that she was an entirely new April.
"Well," asked her father towards the close of the meal, "What April-fool
pranks did you play this year?"
     "Oh Daddy!" she responded.  "I outgrew that long ago.  You still think
that I'm a little girl."
     A quirk of his left eyebrow was his only reminder of her exploits the
year before.  "Well, you're my little girl.  I'll always think of you that
way.  I don't want you to grow up too fast."  The words "grow up" made her
blush, but her parents were sharing a glance.
     Once the dishwasher was loaded and she was hidden in her room with
homework in front of her, she could think of Brian as long as she wanted.
He had kept repeating "I love you."  At first, she had feared that this was
a formula that he was using to get in her pants.  Afterwards, however, he
still said it.  And what he had said about all the future that they would
need to go through sounded like he was really thinking that this was a
permanent relationship.
     She loved Brian;  did she want to spend the rest of her life with him?
She desired it and feared it.  She was daddy's little girl and, in some
ways, Brian's little girl.  Both were sort of fun, but not for life.  She
would move away from Daddy and grow up.  Daddy would mourn it and celebrate
it, as he had done every step she made since the first one he caught on
film.  Would she have to move away from Brian to have him accept that she
was growing up?
     Well, Brian was growing up as well.  He might grow up enough to
respect her mind and her will.  To be fair, he'd respected her independence
a lot this afternoon.  With them both naked in his bed, he'd asked for her
agreement.  And, with them both naked in his bed, he'd pleasured her.  That
was important, and April abandoned the uncertain future to recall the
joyous past.
     Finally, she completed her homework despite her mental distractions.
She ended the night with a long hot bath.  As a practical matter, showers
travel in the wrong direction to reach the parts which most deserved care
that night.  Her choice was more influenced, however, by the emotional
accord between soaking in the warmth of the water and basking in the
sensuous memories.  Brian had been there, had sheltered her, had filled
her.  He had loved her *afterwards*.  The water warmed, supported, and
relaxed her body as her lover had warmed, supported, and relaxed her
spirit.
     Back in her room, she took off her robe and studied herself in the
mirror.  She couldn't see any difference.  She desperately wanted the
change to be invisible to everybody else, but she thought that it was
unnatural that she looked the same.  Sleep overtook her while she was
replaying the afternoon for the third time.
     Brian was too busy worrying about the evidence of the afternoon to
savor the experience until he was alone in his room.  The negatives came
first.  April was so beautiful, but he hadn't been able to think of anyway
to describe her but "beautiful."  He wished that he were a poet so that he
could actually describe her beauty to her, the sheen of her hair above and
below, the shape of her breasts and thighs, the grace of her walk, the warm
embrace of her cunt around his cock.
     Then there was the future threatening them.  Two years of high school,
four years of college, before they would be permitted to live, before he
could support her and claim her from her parents.  Their love was a proud
thing; it was a shame that expressing it had to be hidden away.  He didn't
regret his promise to tell no one;  he would rather have the guys snicker
at his inexperience than have them snicker at April.  What he regretted was
his inability to claim her in front of the world.
     Then too, hiding their activities meant that they couldn't make love
very often;  and he wanted to do it again and again.  Coming in her had
been glorious, much sweeter than the experience of her hand, let alone his.
Having her come around him had been even better.  How often could April do
it without getting pregnant?  How often could they do it without getting
caught?
     The idea of repeating this intimacy, however fraught with difficulties
and dangers, excited him.  He replayed the afternoon in his mind.  Soon,
the images weren't enough;  he took himself in hand.  Brian didn't finish
his homework that night.  Drained as he was, he still dreamed of April.
     Talking in school invited eavesdropping, but they couldn't resist.
They did get some safety by walking the school grounds for part of their
lunch hour.  "Are you okay?" he asked.
     "I'm fine."
     "Do you swear that it didn't hurt at all?"
     "It really was my first time," she answered.  "I swear that.  On, ...
on the bracelet you gave me."
     "I believe you, partly because I know that you are an honest person,
partly because I know what that bracelet means to you..."
     "Means to me now," she interrupted.  "You are *very* special in my
life."
     "Partly because," he continued in the same tone, "I love you, and love
should include trust.  But *mostly* I believe you because you were so sure
that it would hurt.  Ape, you worry too much over the wrong things.  Now,
did it hurt you at all?"
     "Not in the slightest."
     "That's wonderful.  Can't you understand that I worry over hurting
you?  I don't worry over your having cheated on me."
     "I love you."  She started towards him.
     "Don't touch," he said reminding her of the school rule.  "I love you,
too.  I should have said that first off."  They stood a yard apart looking
into each other's eyes with expressions that the school administration
would also have banned if it could.  "You know," he said as the other
students started towards the building, "it was my first time, too."
     April had thought that it was.  Not wanting to say so, she was silent
as they parted.
     Carla had called with a warning that she wouldn't be at supper.  April
was in bed when the knock came on her door.  Carla's news came first.  She
was going back to school full-time in the fall.  "It's a lost cause, Sib.
I'm not going to torture myself over Jeff Benton any more.  I may even go
on to law school.  But that's the future."
     April couldn't find anything to say except "I'm sorry, Sib."  They
hugged for a bit, but Carla had done her crying alone.
     April's information took longer to communicate, but Carla summarized
it neatly.  "You did it?"
     "Yes," said April, "and it didn't hurt at all."
     "My lucky sister.  Did you use anything?"
     "Brian did," April said, "and it was funny.  I'd never really seen it
you know.  In a dark car, but never *seen* it.  Then, suddenly, there was
Brian kneeling on the bed above me.  Sticking out from his middle was
something white and shiny.  It wasn't until afterwards that I figured out
that this was the rubber."
     "My sister," said Carla.  "Sib, you could find something funny about
your execution. "
     "Not afterwards.  Or, at least, if I saw something funny afterwards,
there *would* be something funny about my execution."
     Carla giggled.  "Sib, I'm so happy for you.  Next you'll tell me that
you came your first time."
     "No, but I did my second."
     "Second!  I am going to go out and find my own sixteen-year-old."
     "Just so you don't go after mine.  Seriously, Carla, there are
drawbacks.  I may never see a basketball again without blushing."
     "Basketball?" asked Carla.
     "Well you know how crazy Brian is about the Bulls," April began.  "He
has a huge poster of Michael Jordan at the foot of his bed.  Brian was over
me and blocking most of the view, but the basketball kept swimming into and
out of focus.  Brian's room was much better than a parked car, but that
doesn't mean it was ideal."
     "Does he care for you?"
     "That he does.  Sometimes his protectiveness edges over into the
annoying, but he is always protective."
     "That," declared Carla with real force, "is more important than the
room.  I've been seeing real love, unfortunately from the outside.  It's
all about care."
     "And we've been talking about my joy all this time.  I should have
been sharing your pain."
     "Why?  We're sisters, and we share.  But I'd rather be sharing the joy
than the sorrow.  Anyway, I want to find you a basketball charm."
     "Why basketball?" asked April.  She really didn't want any charms
which didn't represent turning points in her life.
     "Because even Dad would figure it out if you added a charm shaped like
a bed."

     THE END
     Uther Pendragon
     1997/04/01
     1997/12/21