No Worries

"Nathaniel, I ... I want you to know how much you mean to me," she said. Then she paused and fell silent. She swallowed nervously. "You're special to me."

My throat swelled up.

"You always have been," she went on. "And ... I've been thinking about that. The first day we ate lunch together, when I looked at you from across the cafeteria ... I was convinced that we could never be friends. I was wrong. I've never been closer to anyone than I am to you. I've never felt ... this ... for anyone. And ... now I've convinced myself that ... that we could never ..."

"... be more," I finished for her. It was hard to get those words out, but I needed to.

We spent a long, silent moment looking at each other.

"I want to," Mariska said softly.

That was all I needed to hear.

I took a step closer to her, so that I stood almost pressed against her, our faces just inches apart. All the affection I had ever felt for Mariska was bubbling up inside me. The love, the passion, the need, it all swelled inside my chest ... until it burst.

I leaned into her, closed my eyes, took her into my arms, and kissed her. Her lips were soft and warm and moist ... and in that moment, they were my whole world. Mariska draped her arms over my shoulders and embraced me. Her lips were eager but clumsy. I could tell she'd never kissed anyone before. But that was alright. I was fine with leading the dance.

"I love you," Mariska whispered between kisses, her lips never straying far from mine.

"I love you too," I whispered back. I only said it out loud that once, but in my head I said it a thousand times. I love you, I love you, I love you ... I said it for every time I ever wanted to say it before.

Every smooch was a smooth stroke of catching and sucking. There was an audible smack each time our lips parted. Our noses grazed together, and our warm breath rushed out over each other's faces, but I hardly noticed any of that. My mind was locked onto those full, moist lips, on the feel of them, on the sound they made when I kissed them.

I took Mariska to the nearby wall, bumping her back against it. At first, my hands roamed her neck and hair, caressing her soft skin or curling through her long, smooth locks, all as our lips danced and smacked. But then I grabbed her waist and slid my hands downwards, to her hips, where I gently squeezed her. My mind was racing with want and desire, all of it for her. I made our kiss faster, hungrier. Every catch and suck of our lips came with hotter and heavier breaths than the last. The soft smacks grew louder.

When we paused, getting some air to gather our breath, we opened our eyes and looked to each other. Mariska was almost panting. She gave me a shy smile. "You're good at kissing," she said.

I smiled back at her. "So are you." Sure, I had all the experience, but she did damn well at following my lead.

Sadness flashed in Mariska's hazel eyes, and her smile slipped away. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

I shook my head. "It's my fault too."

"We could've done this forever ago."

I looked at my hands on Mariska's hips, then looked back up at her. "Then let's make up for lost time."

Mariska's shy smile returned. She giggled beneath her breath. "Okay."

That was enough talk; we'd gathered our breath. I closed my eyes and pushed my lips onto hers, resuming right where we'd left off.

I took our kiss deeper. When I next brought my lips, my mouth was open a little wider, and my tongue came with it. After my tongue touched her lips, the next time my mouth came, hers was open, waiting for me. She knew what to do, and she wanted to do it. My tongue found hers. Right away, I felt the wet heat of it. The first touches of our tongues were slow, stroking brushes, but soon I wanted even more. Before long, my tongue was aggressively wrestling hers, pushing down on it. My head tilted further, and for short moments we just held our mouths open, letting our tongues make love.

My desire was running wild. I couldn't slow down. I reached a hand around Mariska and grabbed her ass, but I realized right away that might've been too much. I drew my hand back. "Sorry," I said.

"It's okay," Mariska said. "I liked it."

That's when I understood. I couldn't have gone too far if I tried. This was going fast, but that's what we wanted. We didn't want to wait; we'd waited long enough already. Like I'd said, we were making up for lost time. And Mariska wanted this as passionately as I did.

I grabbed Mariska's ass with both hands, and then lifted her. She reacted quickly and locked her legs around my hips to give me some support, but I didn't need it. She was only 140-something pounds. I could carry that. Maybe not for hours, but I could get her upstairs. I could get her to my bedroom.

We never broke our kiss as I walked us around the corner and started up the staircase. I shifted one of my hands to her lower back for easier carry, and used the other to hold the wall and steady us. I took it one slow, easy step at a time. I wasn't in a hurry. I was content with kissing her until we got there. When we arrived in my bedroom, I flipped on the light switch. I dropped myself onto the middle cushion of my couch, taking Mariska with me, seating her on my lap. Mariska shrugged off the strap of her purse and let it fall off her, onto the floor. The couch was big, poofy, and plushy, and I'd often joked that it was more comfortable than my bed. Even if it really wasn't, it was perfect to be on for hours. It was a perfect place to kiss.

I grabbed Mariska's hips again. I kept kissing her, playing with her lips, tugging on them, sucking them. Our tongues would touch right after our lips did. The sounds of our kiss filled my ears. It felt like we sat there kissing for half an hour, or longer. I could hardly feel the pain in my head. It was there, I knew it was there, it was always going to be there ... but I could hardly feel it. "I love you," I blurted out as we kissed. That was a time where I had to say it aloud.

"I love you too," Mariska replied in an instant.

When we finally broke our kiss to take another breather, Mariska rested her forehead against mine. We gazed into each other's eyes. I wondered if Mariska could see me. All of me. The things behind my eyes. The pain, and the love.

"I wanna go all the way," Mariska said suddenly.

I almost asked if she was sure ... but I knew she was. And so was I. "Me too," I said.

If there were such a thing as soulmates, Mariska was mine. We were good for each other. We gave each other shoulders to lean on. And if there was such a thing as destiny, this night was it. Dad was gone working. Mariska's parents were out of the country. It was just us. Me and her. No one else. There wasn't going to be a better night for our first time, or a better weekend for our first days together. It felt fated, in a lot of ways. I was eager for this. I'd been fantasizing about Mariska for so long. I couldn't count how many nights I dreamt about her, how many mornings I woke up hard thinking about her. But I wouldn't have to fantasize of her any longer.

My mind was racing with all these thoughts when a certain realization suddenly struck me, completely halting me. "I don't have any condoms," I said. "I'll go buy some. I'll be right back."

I moved to get up, but Mariska stopped me with a hand on my chest. "I'm on the pill, remember?"

I knew that. I hadn't forgotten. Mariska had taken the pill since she was fourteen, for cramps, bleeding, and other things I was glad I didn't have to deal with as a guy. It wasn't something she'd admitted out of nowhere; I'd seen the packet of pills alongside her prescriptions once when we were doing homework together. It wasn't Mariska getting pregnant that I was worried about, I knew the pill would stop that. Truth was, I'd never had sex without a condom. I didn't know what it would feel like. I didn't know how long I'd last. That made me nervous, and I didn't want to be nervous. I wanted to be confident. "There are other reasons to use one," I said.

Mariska shook her head. "I don't want one. I don't wanna feel ... that. I don't want something ... between us. I just want ... us. I wanna feel ... you."

I spent a moment thinking it over, and then nodded, agreeing. "Okay," I said. This changed things, but ... Mariska was the one with the courage to start all this. The least I could do was be a little courageous myself.

Without another word, Mariska grabbed her sweatshirt and started pulling it over her head. My heart had already been pounding, but it raced even faster at the sight of that. Instinctively, I did the same she did. I pulled off and tossed away my shirt, and when it was off my head, when I could see, I saw Mariska again.

She wore only a cream-colored bra. As she sat there in my lap, shirtless for the first time in front of me, I finally saw her unhidden figure. She was slim but shapely; there were smooth but pronounced curves from her narrow waist to her wide hips. She was an hourglass. I almost couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe how beautiful she was ... and I couldn't believe that something so beautiful felt like it had to be hidden. God, those hips. I couldn't stop myself from grabbing them and curling my fingers into her soft skin. As I held her, I leaned forward and kissed her taut tummy just above her navel. Mariska giggled. I gave her tummy another kiss, a wetter one, and she giggled again. She was ticklish. I laid back against the couch, so I could take in the sight of her again. I was astonished, my eyes wide. "You're incredible," I muttered.

Mariska gave me that shy smile again. I loved that, that shy smile on that freckled face. "Really?" she asked.

"Really."

Mariska leaned forward, coming closer to me. She placed her hands on my bare chest. I could feel her give me a slight press here, a slight squeeze there. From that lusty look in her eyes, I had a feeling she was enjoying me as much as I was enjoying her. I wasn't as muscled as I was back in my football days, but I was still fit, and still had tone. Mariska slid a soft hand across my pecs, then slid another down my abs, and then curled her fingers through my black chest hairs. This wasn't the first time Mariska had seen me shirtless -- I'd ran shirtless in front of her before -- but this was the first time she was so close, and the first time she was touching me.

Mariska pulled her hands away. She did it so suddenly that I was about to ask if something was wrong, but then I saw her hands reach behind herself, behind her back. A moment later, her bra straps popped free, and she began pulling her arms out of it, until her bra was held against herself with just one hand. That hand didn't remain there for long. It lifted, taking her bra up, and taking her breasts up with it. Then, when her hand and bra were up and gone, her breasts fell into view, briefly bouncing as they did. The long locks of her smooth, brown hair partially obscured her breasts, so I brushed those locks away, casting them aside like curtains, revealing what was behind them.

Mariska's breasts were full, firm, and perky. They were a little bigger than I'd thought they'd be; her clothes hid them well. But they weren't large. They were just right. Two perfect handfuls. Her nipples were peach-colored, contrasting the milky paleness of the rest of her. I had wondered what her breasts looked like for so long. Now I only needed to know what it would be like to touch them.

I reached forward and closed my hands around her breasts. They were soft and warm. Her nipples poked into my palms, a little stiff, and only getting stiffer. I curled in my fingers, sinking them into her breasts. They were such soft flesh, so easy to squeeze.

I might've been overly eager, because once my hands were on Mariska's breasts, I started enjoying them every way I could think of. I cupped them. I squeezed them. I kneaded them. I lifted them and let them drop and bounce. I pushed them in from the sides and made them jiggle. Mariska must not have minded, because she was nibbling her lower lip, and it did not look like a pained expression. It was when I gently pinched her nipples, pulled her breasts with them, and let go of them and let them bounce away that I stopped, because that was when I drew a sudden moan out of her. "Are your nipples sensitive?" I asked, though I could see the answer.

"Yeah," she said.

Without saying anything, I shot forward up and closed my mouth around the nipple of her left breast. Mariska gave a little gasp. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked hard on her stiff nipple. I pulled her whole soft breast with my mouth alone, until the suction wasn't enough anymore and her breast popped free from my lips and fell away. Mariska moaned again. "That feel good?" I asked as I looked up at her, smirking.

She nodded. So, I did it all over again.

When her left breast had been thoroughly suckled and was shining with my spit, I switched over to the other, snatching up her other nipple between my lips. I lashed her stiff nipple with my tongue as I sucked it. I circled it, brushed it, flattened it, I pleasured it with the warmth and wetness of my tongue that I knew she was loving feeling. Mariska grabbed handfuls of my hair and held on tight. I reached over and started fondling her other breast. Now I was working each of her perky tits, sucking one and squeezing the other. Mariska's moans filled my ears. Eventually, I pulled back, making her nipple pop from my lips again, and letting her breast fall away with another fleshy bounce. Mariska was practically panting, puffing hot breaths from between her parted, pouty lips.

With her breasts thoroughly enjoyed and pleasured, there was another place I still badly wanted to kiss that I hadn't yet. A part of me wanted to yank down her panties then and there -- I knew she wouldn't object to it -- but there was still something else I wanted to see first. I wanted this night to be perfect, and that meant there needed to be a sort of natural progression to things. I'd always preferred football over baseball, but even I knew you needed to get across each base before you could get to home plate.

I grabbed Mariska's hips and started twisting her around. She took the message and turned around for me, switching which knee was on which side, until her backside was facing me. I hooked my fingers under the waistband of her sweatpants, then waited a moment to see if Mariska would object. She didn't. I pulled her sweatpants down to her knees. All that was left then was her matching cream-colored panties. Her panties were a little wedgied into her crack, baring most of her cheeks. Her butt wasn't big either, but her cheeks were cute and round. With that narrow waist above it, her backside was shaped like a perfect pear.

I grabbed one of her cheeks and squeezed it. It was soft and supple. I lifted it and let it drop. It fell with a mesmerizing jiggle. "Your ass is amazing," I said.

"Really?" Mariska asked, looking at me from over her shoulder.

I had a feeling she was going to ask that a lot that night, but that was fine by me. If she needed me to keep assuring her how crazy I was for her, I'd tell her it all night long. "Really," I said, staring into her hazel eyes as I did.

"It's not big."

"It doesn't need to be." I grabbed her ass with both hands, one for each cheek. I spent a few minutes just lifting each cheek and letting them drop, giving myself a show of how they'd bounce and jiggle. When I'd done enough of that, I squeezed her cheeks so tight that my fingers left prints. I had a tiny temptation to give her a sudden spank and see what kind of jiggle that made, but I knew better. Mariska had no pain tolerance. Even a light spank would've hurt her, and I would never hurt her. Besides, groping her ass and bouncing it in my hands was more than enough fun. And even just squeezing her left some nice, if fleeting, handprints.

I grabbed Mariska's hips and started twisting her again, prompting her to turn back towards me. The moment we were facing each other, I shot forward, grabbed the small of her back, and flipped us around. With an audible oomph I laid her down against the couch's backrest. I got off the couch and went down onto my knees in front of her. I pulled off her sneakers. She kicked them away. Then I pulled off the last of her sweatpants. She kicked them away too. I reached up and grabbed the waistband of her panties, but then stopped. My eyes had gone to her crotch, where I realized that her wedgie had made her panties taut in the front too. I could see it. The shape of it. It was plump, with a visible cleft in the middle. She was ... puffy down there. I was only seeing the outline of it, and I was already almost drooling. My mouth was full of saliva. I had to swallow a thick gulp of it. Otherwise there'd have been no room to talk.

I leaned up and forward, closer to Mariska, and took her into a long, sweet kiss. I kept close when I finally ended it, when our eyes opened. "Ready?" I asked. I watched her hazel eyes carefully. I watched for anxiety, or fear, or any sudden desire not to do any of this. I didn't see it. Instead, I saw love, want, desire.

Mariska nodded. "Yeah," she said.

"Are you nervous?"

She smiled. "No."

I smiled with her. "I love you."

"I love you more."

I shook my head. "Not possible." With that, I went back down, kneeling in front of the couch again. I grabbed Mariska's panties and slid them down her long legs. She lifted her feet out of them. With her panties off, I turned back towards her. As I scooted closer, she slightly opened her legs, letting me look between them and see what I'd fantasized of for so long. I had to pause when I saw it.

Mariska's puffy pussy had little creases on the sides and a long slit down the middle. She was shaven all around, mound and all. It was a smooth shave. Completely bald. There wasn't one stub of hair to be seen. With her legs close together, her pussy was just that long slit, but as her legs came further apart, her pussy parted with them, revealing her inner labia. Her dusky pussy lips peeked out at me. They were slim and tight, and glisteningly wet. Her clitoris was hidden inside of its slim hood, which ran out over the top of her slit. There were small, shining webs of moisture all around that had leaked out of her. She was as worked up as I was.

"You shaved?" I asked.

"This morning," Mariska said. That's when I realized that was the 'girl stuff' she'd spent extra-long doing. "I thought you'd like it that way." After a pause, she asked, "You do, don't you?"

"Yeah," I said with a nod, my eyes locked between her legs. As I looked upon the end result, I had to agree that it'd been worth the risk of running late to school. Well fucking worth it.

I reached for Mariska's pussy and set my hand atop it, just to feel it. It was so soft. Soft and smooth. And it just radiated heat. As I petted her pussy, it was like touching a warm oven. Eager to see all of her, I placed my thumb and index finger on each side of her pussy and spread it wide open. Between her slim, dusky lips was a lot of pink, and all of it glistening. She'd gotten so wet ... and it was because of me. My erection had already been stabbing my boxers, but that thought made me even harder. Holding her open like that, I could finally see her tiny pink pea of a clit, which was no longer hidden under its hood. And with my face hovering so close to her pussy, I could smell a faint, musky scent. Her scent. My cock started to throb.

I sighed as I gazed upon all those wet, pink folds ... but then I noticed something I'd never seen before. The little hole at the bottom of her spread pussy, her vagina, seemed smaller than it should be. Then I realized it was small because it had a thin, half-ring of flesh around it. I wondered, was that her ... hymen? I knew what a hymen was -- I remembered health class -- but I'd never been with a girl who had one.