28 meme: 16, losing-his-cherry dom
16. Losing-his-cherry Dom.
Starting
for kyuuketsukirui
Dom/OFC
*
"I don't have anything," Dom mutters awkwardly.
"In the drawer," she answers, and that's the last excuse gone.
Not that Dom's looking for an excuse, he's not, he wants, Christ, they've come so far he might even chance it whether they had anything or not. He's thought a lot about what his first time would be like, and he thought he'd be different from other boys, he thought he'd be able to play it cool-- his hands blur shaking as he rummages in the drawer and finds the foil packet, and thank God, she takes it and tears it open and helps with the unbearable process of rolling it on-- now that it's happening (is it really happening? are they really going to--? she could still say no, and he'll have to stop), now that they're really doing it, playing it cool is fucking laughable, there's no way.
He wants so much he can't imagine stopping now (but if she says no, he'll have to, he has to remember she can always say no and he'll have to stop right away no matter what, if he hurts her he's going to have to stop) can't imagine anything that could stop him; if he caught on fire right now he'd be hard pressed to care, he'd keep on regardless.
Slow, slow, he tells himself, and feels miserable. How does anyone ever stand to do this, his cock feels thick and blunt and stupid, poking at her; she reaches and guides him, and he knows he's blushing, she ought not to have to do that, he should be able to-- but oh-- she's wet, he's felt that before but never like this, he's never felt this slick glide around him, easing the way, he can feel it even though the latex, and she's so hot, scalding, a cauldron.
"Is it okay, does it hurt?" Please for fuck's sake say no, say it's fine.
"A bit, but it's all right," her voice is thin, it sounds as if she's miles away. "I'll say if it's too much."
He goes as slow as he can stand to do, and thanks to the condom he even manages to last a few sweaty, nerve-wracking minutes. He looks at her parted lips, her veiled eyes, the little furrows of tension between her drawn brows, and can't believe she's really letting him do this.
She licks her lips and her thighs tighten around him, and his hips seem to jolt forward without him, thrusting twice, too much, breaking him open, too soon.
He's careful to hold the awful little bag around himself as he pulls out. It spills messy on his fingers when he bins it. He goes to hold her because that's what girls are meant to like, and she tells him it was good, but she still seems far away, and now he wonders if he really would have shagged her even if there hadn't been a condom. A father at fourteen, scary thought. He supposes he ought to feel lucky, but he's a bit terrified. How powerful it felt, how only just barely in control.
They date another two months, and they do other things in bed together, but never that again. He always desperately wants to, and he's always relieved when they don't.
Starting
for kyuuketsukirui
Dom/OFC
*
"I don't have anything," Dom mutters awkwardly.
"In the drawer," she answers, and that's the last excuse gone.
Not that Dom's looking for an excuse, he's not, he wants, Christ, they've come so far he might even chance it whether they had anything or not. He's thought a lot about what his first time would be like, and he thought he'd be different from other boys, he thought he'd be able to play it cool-- his hands blur shaking as he rummages in the drawer and finds the foil packet, and thank God, she takes it and tears it open and helps with the unbearable process of rolling it on-- now that it's happening (is it really happening? are they really going to--? she could still say no, and he'll have to stop), now that they're really doing it, playing it cool is fucking laughable, there's no way.
He wants so much he can't imagine stopping now (but if she says no, he'll have to, he has to remember she can always say no and he'll have to stop right away no matter what, if he hurts her he's going to have to stop) can't imagine anything that could stop him; if he caught on fire right now he'd be hard pressed to care, he'd keep on regardless.
Slow, slow, he tells himself, and feels miserable. How does anyone ever stand to do this, his cock feels thick and blunt and stupid, poking at her; she reaches and guides him, and he knows he's blushing, she ought not to have to do that, he should be able to-- but oh-- she's wet, he's felt that before but never like this, he's never felt this slick glide around him, easing the way, he can feel it even though the latex, and she's so hot, scalding, a cauldron.
"Is it okay, does it hurt?" Please for fuck's sake say no, say it's fine.
"A bit, but it's all right," her voice is thin, it sounds as if she's miles away. "I'll say if it's too much."
He goes as slow as he can stand to do, and thanks to the condom he even manages to last a few sweaty, nerve-wracking minutes. He looks at her parted lips, her veiled eyes, the little furrows of tension between her drawn brows, and can't believe she's really letting him do this.
She licks her lips and her thighs tighten around him, and his hips seem to jolt forward without him, thrusting twice, too much, breaking him open, too soon.
He's careful to hold the awful little bag around himself as he pulls out. It spills messy on his fingers when he bins it. He goes to hold her because that's what girls are meant to like, and she tells him it was good, but she still seems far away, and now he wonders if he really would have shagged her even if there hadn't been a condom. A father at fourteen, scary thought. He supposes he ought to feel lucky, but he's a bit terrified. How powerful it felt, how only just barely in control.
They date another two months, and they do other things in bed together, but never that again. He always desperately wants to, and he's always relieved when they don't.