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APRIL hurt like hell dont know

"April's First" {Pendragon} (mf 1st rom pett)



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

anon584c@nyx.net



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 charm's 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."

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. His

straightening things up clearly hadn't been compulsive, 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.

"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. "I

love you, April," he raised off her breasts to say. "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, adding 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. 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 she'd seen 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 couldn't

say anything about it 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 is 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." Not having a response to

that, April 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

April's First

Uther Pendragon

anon584c@nyx.net

1997/04/01

1997/12/21

2000/04/01

2001/04/01

2002/04/01

For a quite different story of a girl's first sexual experience

under quite different circumstances, see:

flights.txt

Flights of Fancy

This is indexed with my other stories of teenagers under:

yl.txt

Young Love

The directory to all my stories can be found at:

index.txt