A Writer's Dream

Chapter 4: First Time

Jake and I stared at each other for a long moment, savoring the other’s nudity in anticipation of what would come next. I wasn’t entirely sure what would happen, but I knew it could only be good. Finally, I approached him and placed my hand on his chest.

“You’re absolutely stunning,” I said, knowing I probably sounded like a fool but needing to say something to break the silence.

A smile quirked across his face and I saw relief in his eyes. Had he been worried about my reaction? He didn’t need to be. Surely he knew he was perfect. Not like me, with my scars and my scrawny build. But maybe he did have doubts. After all, he had just come out for the first time ever, so it was natural for him to have some self-doubt.

Once again I was being selfish, I realized, and focusing only on myself and my own reservations. I hadn’t given any thought to what he must be feeling right now. He had broken up with his girlfriend and come out as a bisexual to his two best friends. It was natural that he would feel insecure. But I could help with that.

I let my hand trace down his chest, feeling his muscles leap and twitch under my fingers as I reached his belly button and circled it before going lower, into the thatch of dark hair above my ultimate destination. His sharply indrawn breath let me know that he was enjoying the touch, and his gasp when my hand made contact with his cock let me know he was ready for more. He hardened in my hand as I stroked him.

I had never touched a man before and the silky feel of him was exquisite. He had a vein on the underside of his penis that fascinated me; I could feel blood pumping into him as he grew harder and larger. I wrapped my hand around him and led him to the bed slowly.

“I want you,” I said.

His heartbeat leapt; I felt the change under my fingers. I released him so we could climb into bed, but first he went back to his pants, lying in a heap on the floor. He searched through his pockets and came back to bed with a condom. I took a deep breath. This was real; we were really going to have sex. I didn’t know much about condoms or how to use them but he seemed to, because he put it aside and said they would use it in a bit. Then his hands found my body and I moaned in surprise as they went straight for my chest and he began playing with my nipples.

I started to protest that I wasn’t a girl and it wouldn’t work with me, but the heat cascading through my body as he played with me told a different story. I was on fire. He lowered his head and clasped his mouth on one of my nipples, swirling it with his tongue as I grabbed his hair desperately and squirmed under his touch. I wanted more; I wanted him inside me.

My hips started bucking and he grabbed the base of my cock and squeezed, holding me firmly in place as he continued his ministrations to my nipples. Then his mouth slid lower, tonguing his way down my chest to my belly button, which he circled just like I had done to him with my fingers. I wanted him so badly. I had never had sex before but I had dreamed it dozens of time, and in all those dreams it had never felt half as good as this.

“Do you have any lube or lotion?” he asked breathlessly.

I nodded, unable to speak, and reached into my nightstand to pull it out. He grabbed it and I shut my eyes. I heard a ripping sound and I thought he was putting on the condom. Then something cool and moist landed on my cock and I opened my eyes in surprise. He was wearing the condom but he had put lube on both of us. With one hand, he slicked me up and with his other, he guided himself to my opening. I could feel myself pulsing with desire for him.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” I cried. “Yes, yes, inside me now!”

A sudden pressure forced itself against my opening and I grit my teeth. It hurt. Then he popped through my tight ring of muscles and was inside.

“Relax for me, baby,” he said.

I realized I was tense as a board and tried to relax. I focused on breathing. That was simple enough. In and out. I felt myself relaxing and the pain lessened. Jake began to press further inside. I couldn’t believe how much it hurt, but the pleasure was just as strong as he fit inside me. I kept thinking he couldn’t possibly go further but he did, until he was seated deep, deep inside me and I was moaning and gasping for breath. He stopped when he was inside me and I could see the concentration on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I couldn’t answer for a moment, then I remembered to breathe. The pain lessened when I breathed.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “This is amazing.”

And it was amazing. Or so I thought. Once he knew I was alright, he began to move and what I had thought was amazing became commonplace compared to the pleasure I was now feeling.

I whined in pleasure and scrabbled against his chest, trying to draw him closer. My hips bucked uncontrollably until his strong hands grasped me and forced me into a steady rhythm. Once we were rocking back and forth together, I let out a moan and abandoned myself to pleasure.

He kissed me over and over again, in every place he could reach, and I weakly tried to kiss him back. He pulled my legs up so they were bent and my feet were next to my hips, giving him better access to my body. I wondered how he knew all of this but the thought didn’t last long. No thoughts lasted long, except that I loved this man and I wanted to please him.

Our rhythm quickened and he groaned. I knew he was going to cum and I was, too. I reached up and grabbed him, pulling him down for a kiss. I wanted to taste him while he exploded. The instant our lips and tongues entwined, he went stiff and his thrusts became erratic. I felt him cum inside me, caught by the condom, and the knowledge of his pleasure pushed me over the edge. A wave of heat swept over me and I kissed him harder as I came. My semen splattered across both of our chests but I didn’t care. I had him.

We lay in that position for several moments, neither of us able to move. Then he slowly pulled out. It was painful, and there was little pleasure in losing him. But I knew that I could have him again whenever I wanted, so I tolerated the pain. I touched the tacky substance on my chest. I would need to take a shower before going out. So would he, I thought. I wondered if my shower was big enough for both of us. Probably not, I realized sadly. My apartment was fairly small.

Jake lay beside me and pulled me into an embrace so my head rested on his powerful chest. I stroked his chest as I lay there, never wanting the moment to end. But I knew it would end. All good things did. Still, I was glad that he was the one I had lost my virginity to. And he had lost his, too, in a way. It was his first experience with a man, or at least I assumed it was. He had seemed so confident in everything that he did, knowing exactly how to do use the lube and the condom, but maybe those things were the same in heterosexual relations.

“What are you thinking now?” he asked.

“How much I care for you,” I replied. “You’re so important to me, especially now.”

“You’re important to me, too,” he said.

A warm bubble rose up in my mind at his words. It was easy to forget how well-loved I was, and what good friends I had. And now what a good lover I had, I thought with a silent giggle. I felt as giddy as a schoolgirl. My blood raced with excitement, but it was no longer sexual excitement. I was spent in that regard. No, this was something different. A sense of belonging. Of finally fitting in and having someone to depend on. I had my cat, of course, but she could only do so much. I had friends, but never someone who understood my desires. I always kept my desires hidden, but now Jake had unleashed them all and I knew I would never be the same. He had freed me.

Perhaps I’ll write better stories now, I thought. Stories with detailed, complex characters. Because as much as I hated to admit it, I knew my thesis advisor was right. My characters were flat. They were just the tools I used to express a concept rather than being people in and of themselves. I needed to make them real, but that didn’t mean making them dark and evil like she had suggested and I had assumed. I could make them loving, like Jake.

“Did you know things were going to end up like this?” I asked.

“I hoped,” Jake said. “I really care about you and I don’t like to see you hurt. I want to protect you. I want to be your boyfriend.”

My cheeks grew warm. “I want to be your boyfriend too.”

A meow at the door reminded me of my poor cat trapped outside. She had not given up on me yet, and still thought I was coming to let her in at any moment. Normally that was a safe assumption, but today I just wanted to luxuriate with Jake a little longer.

We lay in bed for nearly an hour before Jake had to go to the bathroom. I let Camere into the room while he showered and filled her in on the news.

“Did you hear, baby?” I asked her in the special voice I reserved just for her. “I have a boyfriend now.”

She mewed once. I had taught her to respond to questions and comments that ended on a raised note and she was a good conversationalist. She could also give high fives. Most people thought I was crazy and spent far too much time and money on my cat, but she was the most precious thing in my life. Now she would have to share being the most precious, and I didn’t want her to feel neglected.

The shower ran in the background as I knelt on the floor and rubbed her belly. Even after everything, my thesis advisor’s words kept coming back to me. Only this time, I viewed them with hope. Maybe my characters were flat, but they wouldn’t be for long. I had just experienced a whole new side to life. Maybe I would write about sex in my stories, I thought with a thrill. That would complicate matters. I gave Camere a final pat and went to my computer, pulling up one of my stories that my advisor had slammed as being unrealistic and boring.

After reading the first paragraph, I saw exactly what she meant. There was no conflict or driving force in the story – it was simply about a man taking a walk in beautiful weather. I had wanted to use the story to describe how people can find personal meaning in the clouds, but the story had ended up being just a long list of descriptions of clouds with no connection to the character.

I could fix it, I saw, by making the clouds more relevant to the character. Maybe he saw his guilt in the clouds, or his desires, and he believed that everyone else could see it too. Maybe he thought people were judging him because of the haunting clouds that followed him around. I smiled. My thesis advisor had recommended scrapping the entire story, but I would revise it and see what she thought after I added an element of romance to it.

I pulled on a pair of sweatpants, wiped myself off, and sat at the computer. I barely heard when the shower went off, and didn’t notice when Jake entered the room until he kissed me on the top of my head. I turned guiltily, realizing I should be focused on him, not the story. But the story called to me and I knew I had to take advantage of the inspiration while it was there.

“Hey, sweetie,” Jake said. “I’m going to take off and let you write. Call me tomorrow and we can get together.”

I grinned, guessing what he meant by “get together.”

“Can we meet at your place?” I asked. “I don’t like my cat seeing things like that.”

Jake laughed. “Of course.”

He leaned down to kiss me and I lifted my lips to meet his. It was a sweet, chaste kiss, like our first kiss, and it set my body on fire.

“Don’t forget to shower,” he said.

“Right. I won’t. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, rising to let him out.

I kissed him one more time before he left, then returned to my writing. I was going to master this story and show my thesis advisor that I knew how to write characters. With a smile, I sat back down and invited Camere up on my lap, then I began to write. It was a beautiful day.

The End

One thought on “Chapter 4: First Time

  1. I love how this story seems to flow forward in circles–you keep revolving back to his past, to his writing, to the present, and then finally to the future. And it seems like Jake begins as a flat illusion for your protagonist, someone he can only fantasize about, and then he becomes a real person with doubts and desires, just like the characters in his stories. Lovely!

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