"And you are this time," I finish for him. “Why do you think I asked you to bring me out here tonight? I wouldn't have if I wasn't one hundred percent sure that you cared about me."
Troy's hesitation fades away with me in his lap, and he brings his arms around my body, pulling me closer to him. My t-shirt and jersey that I'm wearing rub against his t-shirt, and the pressure sends warm tingles through my breasts, which feel heavy and sensitive inside my bra. I feel a hard bulge rise in his pants between my legs, and liquid fire is added to the sensation.
Our tongues wrap around each other, and I can feel Troy's desire, but he holds himself back, which reassures me. Instead, he kisses me softly, finding the pulse points along my neck and stroking my back.
In the darkness, we keep kissing, Troy in no rush except to bring me pleasure, and I smile, looking down at him. "It's okay, Troy. I know this first time, it's going to hurt some, isn't it?"
"That's what they tell me," Troy replies. "Are you . . . you know?"
"Intact?" I ask, chuckling. "Last time I had a checkup a month ago, yes, I am. I'm not totally ignorant, though. I have touched myself from time to time. Especially after watching the sexy stud I've got as a boyfriend tear things up on Friday nights."
Troy laughs, and we roll until I'm on my back. I spread my legs, feeling the warm dampness soaking into my panties and bloomers that I'm wearing under my skirt, and I want nothing more than to get them off, to feel Troy's skin against mine. "Troy."
"Yes, Whitney?" he asks, and I scoot back, half sitting up. I reach down and untie the little knot I put in Troy's jersey, pulling it and my t-shirt up and over my head, exposing my bra to him.
"Take off your pants," I say, reaching for the closure on my skirt. "I'm ready for the next step."
As patient and tender as Troy's been so far, he gets his jeans and underpants off at something close to warp speed, his shirt following close behind. I get to see him naked for the first time, and it's intimidating. I've seen more muscular men in magazines before, but there aren't too many, and the cock that's jutting from between his legs looks bigger than the porn star ones I'd seen on the video I surreptitiously watched last night in preparation.
I reach out with my hand and run my fingers over his stomach, his six pack trembling as he reasserts his self control, his eyes looking into mine. "It's . . . wait."
I get off the blanket and run over to the car, reaching in for my backpack and rummaging inside before my desire overwhelms my brain, and I find the little foil packet that I was sure Mom was going to find since I put it in the bag. I go back to the blanket and kneel back down, showing Troy the packet. "We're going to be safe.”
Troy takes me in his arms and kisses me, reassuring all my fears, and we stay there, kneeling in front of each other, our lips exploring each other. Troy's hand comes up to slide underneath my bra and I gasp, the sensation of his fingers on the skin of my breast driving me wild. "Troy . . ."
"Shh," he whispers, kissing down. "I promised myself something, Whitney. I'm going to do my best to make sure that you enjoy this. I don't want your first time to be a bad memory."
"With you? That's impossible," I groan as his lips find my nipple and he kisses, sucking and licking and driving me crazy. It's impossible, it can't feel this good, I've never felt something so amazing. I feel his hand reach under my skirt, and suddenly he's cupping my mound, his hand rubbing my slick bloomers and leaving me unable to breathe. I'm falling back, unable to control myself any longer but safe in Troy's arms and he lays me back, until we're laying on the blanket again, the rich smell of the grass and the woods filling my nose while my mind convulses under his caress.
My body clenches, and suddenly warm ripples of pleasure roll through me, and I'm rubbing up against his hand, thrusting and gasping, unable to breathe or even see. The stars spin overhead, and I'm not sure what the hell is going on, except that I want more, forever more. "Holy . . ."
"I hope it gets better even," Troy whispers, helping me the rest of the way off with my clothes. I look and see that his cock has softened just slightly, and I reach out, wrapping my hand around the thick warm flesh, pausing. There's no turning back now, but I don't want to. I stroke him slowly, marveling as he comes back to steely hardness, his breath catching slightly when I run my thumb over the top of his head. "Whitney . . ."
"I know," I say, reaching for the foil packet. I don't want to let go of him, so I stick the edge of the packet in my teeth, ripping it open with my free hand. It's a little dry, and I wonder momentarily if the lubrication had dried out after sitting in my room inside my hiding space for a couple of years. Ah well, the latex feels fine in between my fingers, and I roll it onto him, pausing when he hisses. "What's wrong?"