Teach Me Dirty

“It’s not a mess,” I said.

“I’m really sorry.”

I leaned in to kiss her shoulder. “Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Her smile came back, and there was a girlishness to it. “I did it. We did it.” She didn’t take her eyes from the bedding. “I’m not a virgin anymore.”

“You’re definitely not a virgin anymore, Helen.”

“This is us.” She traced the outline of the stain, ran a finger around its dark edges as it bled further into the fabric, and it was still wet. Wet with her, wet with me. Glossy from the part of me I’d left within her. Her eyes flicked to mine and they were full of nerves. “Was it ok for you? Was I…ok?”

“You were beautiful.” I slid my fingers over hers. “You were so much more than ok.”

“I was?”

I pulled her close, until her chest was tight against mine and her arms folded around my neck. “You were so good, Helen.” I smoothed her hair. “You were perfect.”

She breathed against my neck. “I feel like I’ll burst, like my heart can’t contain these feelings.” She squeezed me hard. “I’m so happy…”

“And tired,” I said. “You must be tired.”

“A little.” I felt her eyelashes flutter against my skin. “Can I… stay? With you?” Her breath was soft. “In here?”

My arms held her so tightly I feared I would never let her go. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I pulled the covers from under us, and kept her in my arms as I lay down. She sighed a happy sigh, and pressed herself against me, the whole length of her, her skin against my skin, her legs tangling with my legs.

“I want to stay like this forever…” Her voice was a whisper. “I want to stay right here… in this moment…”

And so did I. My heart felt raw and open, and it pained with a need long buried. The need to feel another person beside me. The need to be seen by another person. The need to be known by another person.

“…sorry… I shouldn’t say that…I’ve just never felt like this before… I feel like I’m flying…”

“You can say it,” I said. “You can tell me anything.”

And I wished she would. I wished she’d tell me everything. I wanted everything, all of her, every secret in her heart, every lie she’d ever told, every dream she’d ever dreamed. And it scared me.

The strength of my feelings for the girl in my arms scared me.

She was the greatest gift. The greatest treasure.

“Goodnight, Mr Roberts.”

I kissed her soft lips until she gasped for breath, until her heart thumped against mine, until her toes clenched and curled around mine.

“It’s Mark,” I said.

***

No alarm, just the sun creeping in through the curtains, and the caw of a crow somewhere high. My bed was so warm with Helen in my arms. I opened my eyes, and hers were already watching me.

Her hair was a dark tangle on my pillow, her face just an inch from mine, fascinated, as though I was some exotic apparition.

“Did you sleep at all?” I asked.

She nodded. “A little.”

I smiled at her, reached up to stroke her face. “You should sleep.”

Her fingers gripped mine and brought them to her lips. “I was excited… and scared… and couldn’t sleep.”

“Why scared?”

“Scared for my heart… scared that you’ll regret this…” Her nervousness was innocent and sweet. “Do you?”

“No.” And I didn’t. As much as I should do, I didn’t regret taking Helen Palmer’s virginity.

“Really?”

“Really.”

I watched her come alive, the sparkle in her expression setting me alight. “I still can’t believe this is really happening.”

I kissed her fingertips. “It’s really happening.”

My beautiful Helen was stunning in the morning light. I soaked my eyes over her freckles, and the flecks of green in her irises. She looked so young. So very young.

“You should sleep,” I said. “Get some rest.”

“I just want to… I waited so long…” Her thigh pressed between mine. “Can I see you? Please?” Her thigh moved, and made my morning wood considerably woodier. “Can I touch?”

I rolled onto my back and let out my breath. “Please do.”

Her eyes were hungry, lips parted as she teased the covers down my body. The room was cool but her gaze burned my skin. I groaned as she tugged the covers down over my hard-on, and my cock sprang back to thump against my belly.

I took her little fingers in mine and wrapped them around me, and then I thrust, slowly, back and forth in her hand. Her grip was divine.

She shifted position, and I let out a groan as I knew where she was headed. She paused, her lips just inches from the head of me, her little hand still taking my thrusts.

“I’ve never done this…” she whispered.

“It’s ok,” I assured. “Just take it slowly.”

“I want to taste…”

She opened her mouth and her tongue fluttered out. The contact jolted like electricity and I wrapped my fingers in her hair. “Christ, Helen...”