Season of Firsts Ch. 03

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Can a foreign student truly love an orphan?
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Part 3 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 11/11/2007
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Despite being in a strange bed at a nearly-empty hotel, Christmas morning felt truly "right." I could hear the wind whistling past the window, and instinctively knew that virgin snow was falling upon the area. I was warm and cozy underneath the covers.

And, most importantly, I was not alone.

Megumi slept peacefully in my arms. I held a sleeping goddess, and I knew that a deity somewhere above was indeed smiling upon me.

In time, I extricated myself from my girlfriend's feeble hold and emerged from underneath the heavy covers. There was plenty of instrumental Christmas music in an iTunes playlist, so I turned on the laptop, signed in, and activated the playlist, an all-bells version of "Jingle Bells" soon playing softly.

Opening the heavy curtains, I gazed out upon the white scene outside, the snow falling fast and hard, driven by the whistling wind. There was no traffic in the streets, no passersby on the sidewalks, and only a lone stray dog meandering through the park. The sky was indeed overcast, giving a strong sense that this day would be full of nothing but snow, just as I had come to expect for Christmas in my eighteen years of life.

Hearing a gentle rustle behind me, I turned away from the window, the curtains still parted, allowing some natural light into the hotel room. My goddess looked at me with sleepy eyes, her expression one of confusion.

I returned to the bed, slipping underneath the covers once again, and Megumi clutched me tightly. I held her close as well, recognizing that, for once, Christmas held a particular significance for me, for I was no longer a discarded kid in an orphanage – instead, for the first time in my life, I was someone who was truly loved and cherished and wanted.

And, just as importantly, I had someone to love and cherish and want.

...and I wanted to make this Christmas memorable for more than just spending the day in a hotel room.

As Megumi slowly became more conscious, I began to caress her, kiss her, squeeze her. She said nothing with her mouth, instead allowing her eyes to speak what was in her heart. A contented sigh passed between her dainty lips, and she melted into me, completely at peace in my arms.

"Merry Christmas," she finally whispered into my ear, punctuating it with a kiss to my cheek.

"Merry Christmas, indeed," I replied, giving her a gentle squeeze. "I don't know about you, but this is already the best Christmas I've ever had."

"That is very good," Megumi responded. Underneath the covers, she maneuvered herself upon me, her lengthy black hair acting like a curtain around my head as she kissed me. My hands roamed her back, and she whimpered softly into my mouth before her tongue slipped inside to slither against mine and cause my breath to catch in my throat.

All too soon, my goddess rested her head upon my shoulder, looking across my neck toward the window. "Snow," she noted quietly.

"Since I've lived all my life up north, Christmas is never Christmas without snow," I commented. "There is something unique about all the white covering everything which makes Christmas a particularly visual holiday for me."

Megumi nodded against me, stroking my face. A moment later, she whispered into my ear, "I have special gift for you."

"And I have a special gift for you as well," I replied, hoping that Megumi would truly appreciate the gift I intended to give her.

"First, I must prepare," she responded, "so I take suitcase and go to my room. You come in... in one hour?"

That surprised me, for I did not expect a gift which required preparation. "One hour it is, then," I agreed, and I could both see and hear the smile forming upon her lips.

A few minutes later, Megumi was gone, having taken her suitcase and a small package of Ho Hos with her for breakfast. I heard her enter her hotel room on the other side of the wall, and I wondered exactly what she planned to give me for a Christmas gift.

I spent the next hour getting dressed and then fretting about my gift to her. Suddenly, I was deathly afraid that my gift would overstep our unspoken bounds, that my gift might be the downfall of our budding relationship. Yet I could at least take some consolation in Megumi's dream:

A dream about us. You were rich, with large house, nice car, own driver, many nice things. You had sold an invention, made money in market. We... We had kids. Three girls, all beautiful, all look more like you.

With any luck, then, given her dream, my gift would not be detrimental to our young love.

An instrumental version of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" wafted from the speakers on the laptop as I stood at the window once again, surveying the white-covered suburb. The wind had diminished greatly, the trees in the park below no longer swaying nearly as much, the whistling sound no longer audible. In a way, it felt like a Christmas at the orphanage, looking out across the white-covered plain, but this was different, for then, I had no one, and on this particular Christmas, someone very special was awaiting me on the other side of the wall.

I ate a pair of Twinkies and drank from a small bottle of water – not an ideal breakfast, but it would suffice until later in the day when we would certainly order something from Room Service. Then I went to my suitcase and retrieved the box of Trojans.

I had plenty of time still before Megumi would expect me to knock at her door. While I could guess at how to put on a condom, I was uncertain. I could see that printed on the inside of the box was a set of instructions, with small drawings as guides, but I did not want to destroy the box just for that, so I decided to go to the Internet for advice. While the college had purposely paid for Internet access for me knowing that I had a laptop with me, I had not used it yet, and it took a few minutes and a call down to the main desk to finally get online.

It did not take long to find an online guide – also with illustrations – explaining step-by-step how to put on a condom and how to remove it after use. The process was really rather simple, yet I spent perhaps another ten minutes reading and rereading and rereading the same guide, committing it all to memory. It somehow calmed me, and, in conjunction with Megumi's dream, allowed me to shift my focus from worrying about my gift to wondering about her gift.

Clearly, I reasoned, Megumi was making something for me. I wondered what that could possibly be. Listening attentively, I did not hear any sound coming from her hotel room. The curiosity was beginning to gnaw at me, but I also knew deep inside that no matter the gift might be, I would be quite satisfied with it.

As the hour drew to a close, I turned off the laptop, plunging myself into silence. After putting the condoms back in my suitcase, I went to the window one more time, my eyes drinking in the virgin whiteness cast across the suburb. A lone pickup truck drove slowly along the far end of the park, but otherwise, there was no sign of humanity.

Yet, for once, I did not feel alone, as I knew that the young exotic student who loved me awaited me across the wall.

I knocked and waited outside the door to Megumi's hotel room, and I heard no sound emerging from the other side of the door. My heartbeat was quickening, and I felt an unexpected nervousness suddenly rise up within me. But as soon as I heard the lock begin to disengage, the nervousness subsided, although my heartbeat remained accelerated.

Megumi allowed me into the room, taking care to place the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the hallway-facing handle-style doorknob before closing and locking the door. Then she stepped into my arms, pressing herself fully against me as we embraced anew.

"I did not think to buy wrap paper," she admitted once she stepped out of my hold, "but I hope you still like your gift."

"I know I will," I assured her.

My goddess smiled shyly, directing me to the bed. Sitting at the edge of the bed, I slipped off my shoes, noting that she had moved the covers to one of the chairs at the table, watching as she went to her suitcase and withdrew something, presumably my gift. She turned to me, hiding the gift behind her so that I could not see it, and slowly returned to me.

"What I hold is not your gift," she informed me. "What I hold is the means to use gift."

That was a perplexing statement, which must have been evident in my facial expression, for Megumi quickly added, "You will understand."

There was a long hesitation, and I had the sense that this was a "now-or-never" moment for Megumi. I could almost see the thoughts and emotions whirling around behind her eyes.

Then, her arms moved, slowly, and I soon saw the means in her hand.

It was a box of Trojan condoms.

I needed a few moments to get over the shock of seeing the condoms. Then I needed a few more moments to understand what Megumi had meant by "the means to use gift."

I looked up from the box to Megumi's face. She was smiling shyly, clearly a little nervous knowing that she was heading into unexplored territory. "Megumi," I whispered, very uncertain what to say, how to express what I felt deep inside.

"I am your gift," she said softly. "I give you me, completely. You have the heart. I now give you the body."

Seemingly in slow motion, I reached a hand toward her, placing it directly over her heart. The rhythm was strong, and somewhat quicker than her erect stance would suggest, indicating that she was indeed a little nervous about this. Yet her eyes were full of love, and it was explicitly evident that she truly wanted to give herself to me, to give me her body, to consummate our young love at last.

I thought back over the past ten days: the despair and the depression, the loneliness and the tears, finding that I was not alone, the hope and the joy, realizing that I was falling in love, the wonder and the exploration, the want and the desire...

I looked at my hand as I felt Megumi's heartbeat resonating within my fingers, within my palm. On either side of my hand, I noted the swells, beckoning to me, moving subtly as she breathed. I could feel her love within my hand, and I could see her gift...

"I love you, Megumi," I whispered, caressing her between her breasts, directly over her heart, noting the feel of her bra underneath her sweatshirt. Our eyes met once again, and she smiled with a greater confidence, even though I sensed she was still somewhat nervous.

...as was I.

With both hands, I took the box of condoms from her and set it on the bed beside me.

"I want so much to make love to you," I admitted quietly, feeling myself become rather warm – not from a blush, but from the love I truly felt for her.

"'Make love,'" she repeated, having trouble with the "l" and "v" sounds as usual. "That is beautiful."

I stood before her, taking the goddess into my arms. Slowly, my arousal made its presence known between us, but neither of us seemed to care.

"I will bleed," she cautioned softly. "I am virgin."

"So am I," I admitted. "So am I."

Then, I suddenly realized that not only was Megumi giving me her body, she was also giving me something which she would never ever be able to give to anyone else: her virginity. She loved me enough to give me her most precious gift, even though it would hurt her, even though I would hurt her, even though I would tear her, even though her blood would be spilled upon the white fitted sheet.

"I'll try not to hurt you too much," I promised her solemnly.

"It is okay," she assured me. "I am supposed to hurt. Hurt me. Please."

Her resolve was impressive, warming my heart. That anyone would love me enough to allow me and want me to hurt her truly moved me.

"I want you in me. I am your gift."

I hugged my goddess tightly, very much torn. As much as I wanted to make love to her, as much as I wanted to connect with her in the most intimate way possible, I wanted to be able to do it without hurting her, even though I knew that would be impossible. But, despite the necessary pain, I also wanted her to enjoy this experience, to always be able to think fondly upon this life-changing moment.

"I want to be inside you," I assured her. "I want to make love to you and know you as deeply as possible."

She gazed into my eyes, smiling nervously yet lovingly. Taking her head in my hands, I kissed her forehead, and I could sense her nervousness beginning to fade.

"You are indeed a goddess," I whispered. Her smile brightened, as did the flame of love in her eyes.

My hands slowly descended Megumi's back, and, somehow, we both knew what was about to take place. My hands slipped underneath the base of her college sweatshirt, caressing the warm skin directly, and I heard her sigh contentedly as she leaned into me. There was no rush, no hurry, no desperate need – I simply took my time, caressing her flesh, my hands slowly moving up her back, my fingertips stroking along her spine. She whispered something in Japanese, yet while I could not understand her words, the tone of her voice made it clear that she was definitely enjoying my loving touches.

Yet my goddess was also touching me. Her small hands were all over my back, although remaining outside my shirt for the moment. She caressed me as if she were a little girl petting a much-cherished kitten, her touches soft and caring, loving and arousing, further solidifying my desire for her.

Our mouths met again, my tongue brushing along her lower lip like a painter applying the final careful stroke to a masterpiece. Slowly, underneath her sweatshirt, my hands ascended her back, eventually reaching the clasp of her bra. She whispered something in Japanese, something which sounded like encouragement, and as she pressed her chest more firmly into me and kissed me anew, I fingered the clasp, mentally trying to picture what I was feeling, trying to figure out this feminine puzzle, and just as she softly giggled into my mouth, the clasp separated seemingly on its own, so that I was none the wiser about this feminine mystery.

As her giggle subsided, my hands roamed her unfettered back, my fingernails gently dragging across her skin. And when at last I attempted to lift her sweatshirt from her, Megumi raised her arms into the air, allowing me to reveal much more of her body to my appreciative gaze. As her arms descended and I allowed the sweatshirt to fall to the floor, she reached for the straps of her bra, removing the garment and displaying her soft swells for me.

"Megumi," I breathed, a hand slowly reaching toward her chest.

I felt her bra alight upon my foot as I touched her breast, enjoying the smoothness, noting the subtle heartbeat. Our eyes met and she parted her lips to say something, but words would not come to her. I ensured her silence by kissing her again, but inadvertently thwarted that plan by gently pinching a nipple and causing her to squeal into my mouth, the sound sweetly accented in an inexplicable way which was quite arousing.

Then, everything seemed to happen both quickly and languidly, at once as rapidly as a bolt of lightning and as slowly as a speeding snail. Along the way, somehow, at some point, shoes were kicked off and out of the way, my sweatshirt was discarded, her jeans, my jeans, my socks, her socks...

...and suddenly, without warning, my goddess was kneeling before me, my underwear at my ankles, my hands in her hair as I guided her head toward my tall erection.

A sound I had never made before rumbled deep in my throat before rushing past my parted lips and filling Megumi's hotel room. Never had I imagined that a mouth could feel so good. Megumi's wet warmth was wonderful, surrounding the bulbous tip of my arousal and slowly descending my length as far as she possibly could without fear of gagging, her tongue gliding gently around my invading anatomy. With one hand wrapped around my thigh, her other hand gently kneaded my testicles, prolonging the virgin sound emerging from my throat.

The vacuum of her small mouth was exquisite. The bobbing of her head was accentuated by the expression of delight in her eyes as she looked up at me. I held her hair out of the way so that I could gaze into her captivating eyes as I breathed a bit heavily, foreign sounds still occasionally passing between my parted lips. She looked so obscene with my anatomy disappearing between her lips, yet I could not get enough of this vision, and I wished that I had a camera to take a picture of her, her mouth filled with me, her eyes practically aglow with love.

"If you don't stop," I cautioned between deep breaths, "I'll lose it, right in your mouth."

Megumi lifted her head away, taking a moment to catch her breath, her small hands both stroking me. "Not my mouth," she requested, "my face."

I recalled having seen a few images on the Internet of women with their faces and sometimes even their hair streaked with semen. While those images were intriguing, I did not then understand the appeal. Suddenly, I understood: The visual appeal of my own semen, part of the integral creation of life, streaked across the face of the woman who could one day produce a child for me was powerful, and the fact that she specifically asked for it, asked to be covered with my life-giving essence, caused my heart to swell.

"Cum on me," she pleaded, a slight whine evident behind her accent. It was the first crass word Megumi had spoken around me, and it surprised me – pleasantly so – that it would be part of her vocabulary. Perhaps it was even more of a surprise because I rarely used such words myself, but the fact that she had used such a word seemed like "permission" for me to do the same.

"You want me to... cum on your face?"

Megumi nodded, still stroking me, her eyes pleading.

I stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed, kicking away my underwear. After she had moved between my thighs, my surprising girlfriend sat back on her heels and resumed the exquisite work of pleasing me with her mouth, her tongue bathing me with desire. Even with her eyes closed, the expression upon her face was one of rapture, of delight, and it almost seemed to me that she felt this was where she belonged: between my thighs, pleasuring me in such an obscene manner.

The vacuum of her dainty mouth was more powerful this time, as if she was trying to suck my entire body into her mouth and down her throat and into her stomach. Her fingertips pressed more firmly around the base of my hardened shaft. Her head bobbed more rapidly. Her tongue darted about like a scared bird trapped in a cage.

All too soon, I felt it: a tingling within my testicles, a bubbling within my arteries and veins, my inhibitions beginning to crumble and expose my core. My own voice sounded foreign to me; even stranger, it sounded distant, as if I was hearing myself from the other side of a thick wall. The pounding of my heart was so loud that I was certain my goddess could also hear it.

Her mouth felt so exquisitely good that I was practically doubled over, leaning over her, my hands fiercely gripping her head, my short fingernails burrowing deep into her scalp. Lengthy, barely-restrained groans erupted from my throat as I held her head in place, my jaw and my entire body quivering from the ecstatic sensations coursing throughout my being at the speed of light. Her expert tongue bathed the underside of my painful erection as she attempted to milk the white-hot desire from my bulbous tip. Her fingertips firmly and lovingly kneaded my testicles, heavy with my rising lust.

My heart was pounding, fast and hard, shattering what remained of my inhibitions, thunderous in my ears, a rhythmic cacophony of primal need. I was almost certain that my goddess could feel the carnal rhythm twitching within her mouth, knocking at the top of her tight throat. I solidly believed that my heart would burst from my chest and bounce off the top of her head, such was the constant strength of its rhythm.

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