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chilling-seavey · 1 month ago

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Lessons in Lust and Other Illicit Desires (gr63) —SEVENTEEN

↳ A/N The big night is upon us!!

↳ Series Summary: Sensible, wise, and a hopeless dreamer, Rosaline was used to men not giving her a second glance. She soon discovered it was merely those mundane college boys who were nothing more than simply intimidated by her intellect. What she needed was a man — someone who could impart knowledge beyond the Classics and guide her in discovering her own confidence as a woman. The thrill of sneaking around with the ever-so-charmingly handsome Professor Russell was certainly a bonus.

↳ Pairings: OxfordProfessor!George Russell x Innocent!Student!OC, Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc (background)

↳ Chapter Word Count: 9.1k

↳ Chapter Warnings: 18+, smut, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, edging, slight overstimulation, some dirty talk, lots of praise, clumsy and slightly tense 'first time' moments, pain, blood, some crying, self-consciousness, consent and reassurances!!, protected sex.

Rosaline came to decree that the dormitory showers were not equipped for the level of preparedness she needed to be that Saturday night. In her miniscule corner shower of her equally as miniscule dorm-room bathroom, it came to be known that shaving and exfoliating your legs was not quite an easy task. With her foot hiked up on one acrylic wall of the shower and her back pressed against the opposite one, hair plastered over her forehead with the water pelting down on her, she carefully dragged her razor up the entire length of her leg from ankle to thigh. After contorting herself into a myriad of different positions until she was as sparkling as polished silverware, Rosaline progressed from shower to vanity and desperately prayed that the fuze wouldn’t blow while she dried and styled her hair.

She told herself it was just another night out—maybe to keep from overthinking it and risking cold feet or a change of heart—all she had to do was get ready (nothing too extravagant, just enough to feel good about herself), take the bus to George’s house, where she would spend the night. She had followed that same routine a few times already this term so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, and yet, the weight of what tonight truly meant sat heavy in the back of her mind, impossible to ignore.

Tonight was the night she was going to lose her virginity.

It was a completely made up social construct, she had always told herself on those nights where it felt like everyone around her had been having sex and, now, what she told herself as she sat on the bus and fidgeted with her purse in her lap, trying to keep the nervousness at bay. Sunset was falling upon Oxford and Rosaline distracted herself with the colourful bath of light that stained the ancient city and shadowed the streets. A comfortably warm, clear skied evening. Calm.

As the bus drew closer to the outskirts of the city, thoughts of how the night was going to play out, if she was going to be awkward, lingered in her mind, despite the fact she knew that George had never and would never judge her. Still, vulnerability settled in her chest, making her heart race. They had shared so much already, but this next step—this final step—felt entirely new, a threshold she had never crossed before. No one had ever been this close to her, not like this. She trusted George, cared for him deeply, and was certain of her choice, and yet, a quiet awareness stirred within her: after tonight, she would never be this version of herself again.

Once she disembarked the bus at the stop down the street from George’s house, she lingered there a moment, staring at the white brick townhouse just a few short blocks away. The front porch light was on as if becoming her home. With a deep breath, she crossed the street before she could overthink herself into a tizzy.

George’s house smelt delicious when she was welcomed over the threshold into the familiar foyer, and it wasn’t simply due to his usual tasteful cologne he wore. It smelt like supper, like a delicious home cooked meal, and George was barely able to close the door behind before she was complimenting it.

“It smells so good in here,” she smiled despite the nervous energy bubbling in her stomach as she toed off her shoes.

“Why, thank you,” George replied politely. He then set a hand at the small of her back to bring her attention properly to him with a soft, “Hello.”

“Hi,” she said softly and met him halfway for a quick kiss in greeting.

He gestured her farther into the house, “After you.”

When she turned the corner into the main living space, she noticed that the usually empty dining room table was set with two full place settings and a row of flickering candles, the chandelier dimmed to an almost romantic warmth. The speaker on the sideboard was playing soft classical music just to make the whole thing feel more cohesive and peaceful. Rosaline swore for a moment she felt tears prick at her eyes and her breath shuddered in her chest, her dizzying worriedness fading away little by little. It was just George.

George slipped past her towards the kitchen, giving her hips a squeeze on his way past, “Dinner is almost ready.”

“Can I help you with anything?” she asked, lingering in the passageway to the kitchen.

“No, no,” George assured her, “I have everything under control.”

The counters were crowded with cutting boards and food scraps and used mixing bowls and measuring cups and a half-soiled recipe book propped up against the coffee maker. George was bent over and reaching into the oven, donning an oven mitt on each hand as he checked the temperature of the meat. Rosaline couldn't help but eye the way his slacks fit over the curve of his ass or how his cream button-up pulled over the flex of his back as he reached into the oven. Was this the thrill of domesticity?

George had made a full English roast of beef, julienned root vegetables, quartered potatoes, and yorkshire pudding beneath a homemade gravy and as they settled at the dining room table together, George poured them each a small glass of red wine. Rosaline set her napkin on her lap as she took in the feast.

“This looks amazing, you really outdid yourself,” she said softly.

“Hopefully it tastes as good as it looks then,” George chuckled modestly, “I could never quite make it as well as my nan could.”

“I bet you did her proud,” Rosaline assured him with a smile.

They were quiet as they started to eat, settling into each other’s company and the comforting ambience of the candlelight and quiet music. Rosaline kept stealing glances at him from across the table, feeling those butterflies in her stomach now fluttering in her heart as she sat there at what could have arguably been the most romantic moment of her life. A homemade meal, candles, music, how he even dressed up a little as if wanting to look good for her. It felt like a dream.

Despite the way she felt comfortable around him at that moment, the awareness of what was to come was still lingering in the back of her mind and stealing her appetite. She didn’t want to be rude so she tried to keep eating, cutting little bites of roast beef or carrot at a time, nudging things around her plate to make it look more empty than it was.

She was silly to have thought George wouldn’t notice. He watched her for a moment, eyeing the way she shifted things around her plate with her fork, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as if she were deep in thought.

His voice broke her out of her trance with a concerned, “Is it okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, sorry,” Rosaline set her fork down and dropped her hands to her lap, fiddling with the edge of her napkin, “I’m just not really hungry, that’s all.”

“Oh,” George frowned slightly, “Is…everything alright?”

Rosaline nodded, meeting his gaze as she nudged up her glasses with the back of her index finger as she confessed in a near whisper, “Yeah, just a little nervous.”

George’s features softened and he reached a hand across the table towards her, his voice as gentle and patient as always, “Like always, we do nothing you don’t want to do. You hold the cards. And just because I made you dinner doesn’t mean I…expect anything. Alright?”

She knew that but she appreciated hearing it, that little bit of reassurance to ease her mind. She nodded in reply and set her hand over his, watching as his fingers collected hers and his thumb caressed her knuckles. Oh, she was utterly infatuated with him, and that simple moment only reaffirmed her certainty that he was the perfect person to share this final, defining step with.

The meal continued quietly, only the odd conversation lingering here or there, the shared moment housing the impending night to come. After a while, with Rosaline only having finished half her plate, she set her fork down and lifted her napkin from her lap to wipe her mouth, trying to distract herself from the nervous anticipation buzzing beneath her skin. George, resting back in his chair comfortably with his entirely empty plate in front of him, had been watching her in that quiet, knowing way of his, the candlelight catching in his eyes as he swirled the last sip of wine in his glass.

Noting her pause, he asked, “All done then?”

“Yes, it was delicious,” she said kindly, “Sorry that I…couldn’t finish it.”

George shook his head as he stood up to start to clear their plates, “Don’t worry about it. I understand.”

“Can I help—”

Rosaline moved to help clear the table, but he gave her a look—one that told her to stay put, to let him take care of it. They exchanged a silent smile and she settled back into her chair again to let him clear the dishes himself.

She lingered, alone, in the dining room, listening to the clink of the dishes and the running of water from the kitchen as he cleaned up, her fingers toying with the bottom hem of her blouse. Rosaline knew she was nervous—hence her lapse in appetite—but there was also a layer of impatience that was steadily growing as time ticked by. She checked the time on her phone out of habit, as if she had anywhere to be other than right there.

From the kitchen, George called, “Shall I put the kettle on?”

She chewed at her bottom lip for a moment before replying, “I’m fine without, thanks.”

When he appeared in the doorway from the kitchen again, she couldn’t help but notice the slight concern on his expression. He tucked his hands in the pockets of his slacks with a gentle, “There’s no pressure, darling. Please don’t worry yourself sick over it.”

Rosaline shook her head, “I’m not worried. It’s just the anticipation, really.”

George pushed off the doorway and walked across the dining room to stand beside her at the table. He offered out his hand for her to take and spoke with a soft conviction, his words giving her space to change her mind, “Come upstairs with me?”

It was the invitation she had been waiting for.

She exhaled slowly and set her hand in his, “Okay.”

She stood from the table and followed him across the living room and up the stairs. It was a path they had taken many times before, one she was all too familiar with, and she found herself subconsciously counting the steps as they ascended them. Fourteen. And then nine steps down the upstairs hallway to his bedroom. The same as always.

His bedroom was just as tidy as she had always seen it with the bedsheets pulled tightly and the decorative pillows dotting the bed, not a single piece of clothing on the floor or tossed over the back of the chair in the corner. It wasn’t unfamiliar—she had been here before, had spent nights wrapped in his sheets, tangled in him. But tonight was different.

Their hands parted once they stepped inside and Rosaline lingered in the doorway as he walked over to close the curtains and then switched on the warm lamps on the bedside tables. When he turned back to her, his expression was soft, contemplative, as if trying to read her.

She took another step into the room and, knowing what he was thinking, offered a murmured, “I’m okay.”

George’s lips quirked slightly, “Yeah?”

Rosaline shared in his timid smile and they met in the centre of his room, “Yeah.”

Their hands met between them, careful and slow, as if they were touching each other for the first time all over again. Rosaline watched how his fingers traced hers, following the contours of her hands, until he captured her fingers and raised them to his lips to kiss her knuckles. His eyes raised to hers with their hands held between them, his gentle breath falling against her fingers as his thumbs delicately traced the shape of them.

The warmth that his gaze inflicted into her bloodstream had her taking a half-step towards him, pulling her hand out of his to grasp the back of his neck, and she pressed her lips to his in a gentle yet sure kiss.

It was as if a majority of her nervousness settled the moment their lips met, as if the familiarity of his kiss grounded her in the moment and kept her from spiraling into a mess of hypotheticals. She lost herself in it for a while, sharing kisses in the middle of his quiet bedroom as their hands wandered and lips and tongues explored, enjoying the moment of closeness with him. It wasn’t until she was suddenly being cradled by the plush mattress of his bed that she realized just how distracted by his lips she had been.

Clothes were slowly shed between passionate kisses, George taking his time to undress her and kiss over her skin as more of her body was exposed to him. It seemed to be a familiar routine by then as she relaxed into his mattress and let her fingers slide through his hair and over his shoulders as he moved down her body. She didn’t feel quite as anxious about being naked in front of him anymore, not even as he lowered his head between her thighs and started to lap at her pussy.

Rosaline’s eyes fluttered closed as she succumbed to the feeling of his mouth on her—something she had really grown to love and crave over the weeks, and something he clearly enjoyed giving her just as strongly. He took his time with it, kissing and licking and suckling at her cunt like they had all the time in the world. He never made her feel rushed and that night in particular was no exception; he had promised her that he was going to make it special for her.

And as he found home between her legs, he certainly succeeded in that, as the minutes drifted by and her skin grew flushed with pleasure. He kept luring her closer to the edge before easing up, keeping that anticipation and need building and building, wanting her to be as willing and wonton as possible. She withered at the addition of his fingers, one at a time, slowly, easing her into it, calmed by the steady pace of his tongue on her clit.

Her back arched off the bed and her fingers tightened in his hair and across the sheets as he started to thrust his fingers into her in firm, shallow, angled nudges while his tongue flicked at her clit simultaneously. She let out a small cry of pleasure, wrinkling the sheets in her white-knuckled grip, trying to nudge herself up against his mouth even more. George moaned against her pussy at her eagerness, the vibration of the sound making her shiver, and, as he lay splayed out in only his briefs between her legs, he subconsciously rutted his hips against the mattress beneath him.

But just as Rosaline felt that tight coil of pleasure starting to build in the pit of her stomach again, George’s fingers slowed to a stop. She whined faintly in dismay but before she could complain, he eased his two fingers a little deeper before spreading them apart in a v-shape inside her a little. She pulled in a sharp breath at the faint stretch as his slender fingers pressed against her tight walls and slightly tense muscles.

“Good girl,” he breathed, words slightly muffled by his mouth on her and the soft wet kisses he pressed to her clit, “Just breathe for me.”

Rosaline panted as she lay splayed out over his bed, legs parted absentmindedly and fingers threaded through his hair, buzzing with pleasure. George leaned his head back a little to get a proper look at her and, at the same time, pursed his lips to dribble some more spit onto her cunt so he could smear it in with his fingers.

“I’m going to add another finger, okay?” he asked lowly.

She had never taken more than two before but she trusted the process and nodded to him, following it up with a soft, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he echoed, gently easing in his ring finger along with his middle and index.

Rosaline winced slightly but more so in anticipation than anything as the stretch was tight but not overly uncomfortable. He was gentle and patient and his tongue met her clit again to help relax her with the good feelings as his trio of fingers carefully prepped her.

George’s breath was hot against her cunt, “There you go, good girl. Gonna get you nice and stretched out and ready for me.”

She could hear how wet she was as he started to thrust his fingers into her in cautious movements, the tight squeeze only seeming to make the sound of the lewd wet squelch more obvious. Her jaw was slack as she took his fingers, eyelashes fluttering in near awe at the feeling and how full and warm it felt before anything had even really happened yet. If anything, it eased the last of her nervousness and replaced it with an eager desire to satisfy her curiosity and her craving of what it would be like to finally and properly have sex.

Rosaline tried to be patient as George fingered her and tongued at her clit in slow, sloppy motions, dragging it on and blurring her senses with rising pleasure yet again; those taunting waves of rising euphoria before he backed off again were starting to drive her a little crazy. So, she splayed her hand flat over the crown of his head and gave him a tiny push with a soft, “Please…I’m ready.”

George’s eyes snapped up to hers and he pulled away from her cunt with flushed cheeks and his mouth and chin glistening. He licked his lips—although it did nothing to help the mess—and then spoke gently, “You sure?”

She nodded and he carefully retreated his fingers and she adjusted herself on the bed with a soft, “Yeah…”

He leaned down over her to kiss her lips and her hands instinctively gravitated to his sides, feeling the muscle beneath his warm skin as he held himself up overtop of her. They shared a few sloppy kisses before he was moving off of her and shifting to the side of the bed to pull open his bedside table drawer. Rosaline took a breath, watching him as he fished out a modest bottle of lube and a brand new box of condoms. With his pinky, he broke the tape sealing the box and then opened the top to fish out one of the square foil packages inside before setting the box on the top of the bedside table.

In the warm light of the bedside lamps, Rosaline watched as George set the condom packet between his lips so he could shuffle out of his underwear and drop them off the side of the bed, leaving him as naked as she was. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him like that but he was just as gorgeous as ever and her gaze shamelessly traveled down his toned figure and lingered on his hard cock that stood up and out from his body, ready. For her.

George held out the condom to her with a gentle offer, “Do you want to do it?”

She nodded and sat up a little more before carefully ripping open the first condom she had ever touched outside of high school health class. She set the empty wrapper with the box and George shuffled a little closer on his knees to position himself between her legs so she could reach him. He wrapped a hand around his dick to pull back the foreskin just enough, exposing the leaky head to her wide-eyed gaze.

His other hand reached out to help her turn the condom the proper way up, instructing her in a warm whisper, “This way up. Pinch the tip there.”

She set her thumb and forefinger over the tip of the slippery condom as he instructed and then moved her hands closer towards him as he held his dick steady. His hand covered hers, helping her to set it in place.

“Now roll it down,” he said.

Her technique was slightly ungraceful from her inexperience, taking a few extra strokes to unroll it down around the shaft of his cock, but he didn’t rush her. When she removed her hands, he just rolled it a little bit farther towards the base but didn’t call her out on it.

Instead, he offered her an almost proud smile and a soft, “Great job.”

She held up her hands between them with a shy giggle, using the back of her hand to nudge her glasses farther up her nose, “My hands are covered in it now.”

George chuckled softly and leaned forward with his hands against the mattress on either side of her, “You can wipe them on me. I don’t mind.”

Rosaline hesitated a moment but then set her hands on his biceps, letting the small amount of lubricant from the condom smear onto his skin rather than lingering on her hands. She had to admit, she wasn’t crazy about the feeling of that substance. At the same time, George had popped the cap on the bottle of lube and squirted out a generous amount onto his fingers and over the protected shaft of his cock, taking his time to smear it all over and then applied some to her pussy too, slipping his fingers a little inside her to make sure she was plenty wet.

When he reached over to grab a tissue from the bedside table to wipe off the worst of it from his hand, Rosaline took that moment to ask timidly, “Do you want me to take my glasses off?”

George’s expression furrowed momentarily as he settled back between her legs, “Why would I want you to do that?”

“I dunno…is that a thing people do?” she mumbled nervously, still gently caressing his biceps and shoulders as if soothing herself, “Like, will they get in the way? Do they ruin the mood?”

George smiled down at her and before he even spoke, that look alone was already easing her nervousness. He assured her softly, “You look beautiful with your glasses. Please leave them on.”

Rosaline shared in his smile, a rouge to her cheeks as she breathed, “Okay.”

George leaned down to kiss her again, swallowing her lips up with his in sensual, passionate kisses, and her hands slid up to the sides of his neck to keep him there. She focused herself on his plush lips against hers to distract herself from the storm of anxious anticipation that was starting to swirl in her stomach again, her butterflies creating a tornado with how fast they were fluttering. The soft hum she let out against his lips was accidental, almost as if she were soothing herself, but George didn't flinch.

Their kiss only broke once she felt something much larger than his fingers pressing against the slick skin of her cunt. Her little gasp had him dusting a kiss to her cheek.

“You still okay?” he checked in with her.

“Yeah,” Rosaline’s arms went around his back to hold him close, her legs pitched outwards on either side of him.

“You’re comfortable like this?”

“Yeah…this is good.”

George’s eyes met hers, speaking seriously to her although his words were gentle and kind, “If you need to stop, tell me, alright? No hard feelings.”

“I know,” Rosaline breathed.

George nodded ever so slightly once. She mirrored it; the both of them sharing the silent affirmations.

“Take some deep breaths for me, darling,” he whispered, his voice rich and soothing and it seemed to work wonders to ease her racing heart.

Rosaline stared up into his eyes as she took in a deep, cleansing breath and then slowly let it out, her hands pressed securely against his shoulder blades and the muscle of his upper back, holding onto him. Oh God, this was it; the moment she had been anticipating since high school. Everything else they had done so far had far exceeded her expectations so, despite her natural nervousness, she was also filled with a hint of excitement to truly and wholeheartedly experience everything.

George took a few more deep breaths with her, connecting them in the moment, and then he was moving his hips a little closer, just enough to start to press inside of her. The first little bit didn’t feel like much of anything as her labia spread to accommodate him, welcoming him in for that first half-inch. She kept her eyes on his, motionless, speechless, trying to focus on the feelings, the moment. Him.

But then, as he eased a little deeper, there was a sudden ache that pushed between her legs and had her instinctively tensing up with a surprised, “Ow.”

George stopped immediately, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry…” Rosaline’s exclamation had even taken herself by surprise, “Sorry, it just…kinda hurt there a little. I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I just wasn’t expecting it. Keep going.”

George leaned down to kiss her once more before he started to push into her again. But he barely got any farther, held back by the resistance of her tight cunt, when she let out another small “ow”. He stopped again.

Rosaline frowned and lifted her head up to look down between them as if she could see why it was hurting this much. People had told her that the first time would hurt but she swore that this was almost unbearable; was she just a complete wuss or did everyone else feel like this? Okay, she was only starting to panic a little.

“Maybe we should stop. I don’t want to hurt you.” George offered. There was almost a slight fear in his voice, a vulnerability Rosaline had never heard from him before.

“No, please, I’m okay,” Rosaline almost pleaded, resting back down on her back. Her hands grasped onto his back as she stared into his concerned eyes. “I want this. Please, I want this.”

“Okay…” George exhaled as if steeling himself for this just as much as she was. He started to push himself in some more, getting just a little bit farther, and Rosaline clung onto him tightly, holding her breath, trying to ignore the intense ache that shot between her legs. George must have seen the obvious wince of pain on Rosealine’s face as he stopped once more with a nervous sigh, “You’re in pain, love.”

Rosaline, getting absolutely fed up with her body not just doing what she wanted it to do, huffed in frustration, demanding desperately, “Just shove it in or something!”

George’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “I’m not going to shove it in, darling, blimey.”

Rosaline covered her flushed face with her hands to try and take a deep calming breath, muttering, “Fuck, this is stupid.”

George eased back—even though he had been barely inside her—and he leaned down to kiss her forehead with a small sigh before whispering right to her, “It’s not stupid. It’s your first time; it’s bound to hurt.”

She removed her hands from her face and met his concerned gaze, a small pout on her swollen lips. As much as she wanted it, it felt like the world was against her, not willing to give her what she desired. It almost brought her to tears. Rosaline took a trembling breath and wrapped her hands around his biceps, confessing softly, “I want this so badly. I want you so badly.”

George’s fingers gently played with the ends of her hair that was splayed out over his pillow and the pitied look on his face had her heart in her throat. He sighed softly, as if at a crossroad of how he should allow that moment to progress, before finally offering in a soft, worried whisper, “Maybe if we try a different position, it’ll be easier and hurt a little less…would that be okay?”

Rosaline relaxed a little at his words, thankful that he wasn’t just going to give up on her that easily. She nodded, “Yeah…we can try.”

George shifted out from between her legs and she followed his guidance until they had switched spots so he was laying out on the bed, head on the pillows, and he helped her to get on top of him. She straddled his thighs and stared down at him and his handsome body beneath her. It almost felt like this was a dream; some crazy out of body experience. Her hands rested against his pecs.

“This is a little intimidating,” she giggled nervously.

George’s hands found their way to her hips to position her over him properly and his thumbs rubbed gentle circles against her skin and he chuckled softly at her statement. He stared up at her with a comforting smile and a breathless whisper, “You’ll be fine, darling. Just take your time…do what feels right for you. There’s no rush.”

Rosaline shifted from her knees on either side of his waist to her feet, struggling to stay balanced on the soft mattress but George was right there to hold her waist and help to keep her steady. With one hand, he reached down to grasp his achingly hard cock and angle it properly for her, holding it in place as she ungracefully situated herself. When she got herself into position enough to feel the protected head nudging against her cunt, she shivered, her hands pressing against his chest.

“Nice and easy,” George whispered softly.

Rosaline took her time to slowly sink down on him ever so cautiously, trying to breathe through it. The burning ache returned as he reached only about an inch in and her face scrunched up a little and she eased back up slightly with a quiet, anxious whimper.

George’s voice was tight, “Does it still hurt?”

“A little,” she muttered, hands still flat against his torso for stability, “I’m sorry.”

He sighed, “Oh, Rose, darling, you have nothing to apologize for. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“No, it’s embarrassing—”

The words were barely out of her mouth before he was reaching a hand up to gently take her chin in his grasp and he guided her eyes to his. There was an unmistakable seriousness in his kindhearted expression as he said, “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. If you want to keep trying or if you want to stop, whatever you want, it’s completely fine with me.”

“I really want this,” Rosaline breathed, her voice shaking. “Please…I want to keep trying.”

A small smile grazed George’s lips and he stroked her cheek with his thumb, “If you’re sure. I just can’t bear the thought that I’m hurting you.”

“You’re not hurting me,” she mumbled, although her attention was already turning back to the task at hand.

She reached down to make sure his cock was angled properly against her and when she started to sink down again, her palms fell flat against his chest. She could feel him watching her, silently, his hands tight on her hips to stabilize her but not rush her, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over her skin. The pain was obvious but her determination was stronger as she breathed deeply and started to move in tentative little bounces as if to work her way down.

George’s breath caught slightly but he played it off with a tight, “That’s it…”

Despite his quiet encouragement, she didn’t speak, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth and nose scrunched as she eased herself down little by little, pushing aside the pressure that ached across her hips and between her legs. The warmth that flowed through her veins was unlike anything she had felt before and, finally, once her bum met his thighs, she felt on fire. Rosaline stilled, then blinked, and then raised her gaze to meet his as if in complete disbelief that she had really truly succeeded, that they were officially and entirely joined together.

George smiled at her, a dreamy, lopsided, handsome grin, as if he were holding himself back from showing her just how incredible it felt, and his hands gave her hips a little squeeze. His voice was hoarse and strained, “How’s that?”

She could feel his rapid heartbeat under her hands, the feeling of his skin against hers feeling more intense than ever before. Rosaline raised a hand to set against her abdomen, right over where he was tucked inside her, “It’s…fine. It feels…strange.”

George’s eyes scrunched closed through a warm, low laugh, and his hands tightened on her hips as she shifted a little on top of him, choking his chuckle into a tight groan. His eyebrows furrowed in the middle, head tilting back just slightly, and she watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. There was an unmissable look in his eyes when he finally opened them again, the blue of his irises saturated by the dilation of his pupils, staring at her with nothing short of desire, something so intense she had never seen before. But she wanted more. She wanted him to look at her like that until the end of time.

He spoke finally, “Darling, you…you have no idea…you feel so good.”

She gasped at the unexpected feeling of his cock throbbing deep inside her and her hand pressed down against his abs again with a breathy, “Oh my God…”

George’s next inhale was shuddery, his hands kneading the flesh of her hips as if a way to distract himself from just taking over. Rosaline knew the logical thing to do was move but she was frozen in place, staring down at him, her mind feeling fuzzy.

“I don’t know what to do now,” she giggled shyly, rubbing her hands over his chest, “I’m gonna look ridiculous and clumsy.”

George’s lips perked up at the corners and his hands trailed down from her hips to her thighs, rubbing gentle lines into her skin, “You won’t look ridiculous, darling. Just move however feels good for you, alright?”

Rosaline shifted off her feet to rest on her knees on either side of his waist instead and then slowly started to roll her hips against his. She wasn’t completely oblivious to some of the techniques—she had written plenty of erotica to understand the basic mannerisms—but doing it herself felt so strange and unfamiliar. Her hips rocked in lazy back and forth motions, testing the water, figuring out what felt good, her attention focused on George’s face as if also wanting to make sure he was enjoying it too.

“Yes…” George exhaled, his eyes focused all on her like nothing else mattered, his hands firmly on her thighs, “Yes…just like that…you’re doing so well.”

“Is this okay?” she asked softly.

“Yeah, it’s perfect. Does it feel good for you?”

“Uh huh,” Rosaline barely replied before she changed up her movement from rocking to little bounces, her mind racing and curious to try everything she possibly could.

That simple change had George’s eyes nearly rolling, his head tossing back against the pillow with a handsome groan, fingers pressing into her hips and starting to give her a little help finding a bit more of a rhythm as he groaned out a tight, “Ohh, good girl.”

“Fuck,” Rosaline whimpered.

Everything felt like so much, so overwhelming, like suddenly every single nerve-ending in her entire body was ablaze. She had experienced pleasure before—by her own hand and also by George’s guidance—but this? This was a whole new world. It still hurt just a little as her body worked to accommodate the stretch it had never been exposed to before but there was something about that pressure that felt so insanely good at the same time. As she fell into the pleasure, into the lust, she stopped caring about what she looked like and started prioritizing getting more out of the moment.

She moved her hands off his chest and they fell on either side of his head, causing her to be leaning over him as she rocked back and forth on him, her clit now able to rut against his pelvis. She choked over a moan, hair falling over her face.

“There you go,” George purred, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears before his hands were sliding down the curves of her body to wrap around her waist, grabbing onto her hips, her ass, “Perfect girl. Look at you taking all of me. Does that feel good?”

Rosaline could only nod.

“Yeah? Just like you wanted?”

The whimper that forced itself past her lips was almost completely involuntary, as if it were answering for her. His words and the weight they carried only spurred her on, more sweet sounds tumbling from her lips as she rocked herself back and forth on him a little faster, fueled by inexperienced desperation.

“That’s it—” George groaned lowly, hands gripping her hips, “Oh, god, darling….just like that….move your hips for me…oh, you feel so good—”

“Oh my God,” Rosaline wrapped her fingers around the headboard, trying to use something for leverage as her thighs were starting to burn, a wince across her face as she shifted on top of him again, trying to adjust herself to keep going with those messy bounces.

George caressed her thighs tenderly, speaking to her in a warm breath, “Slow down, love. You don’t have to push yourself.”

“But I want it,” she whimpered, and then huffed as she shifted again to try and get back on her feet despite the way her thighs were trembling, “My legs are just so fucking weak, oh my God.”

He chuckled softly, understandingly, “Would you be open to changing positions then? Let me take over for a bit?”

The pitch had something in Rosaline’s chest taking flight and although she tried to play it off, the instinctive clench of her cunt at his words had a smirk playing at his lips. Of course he could feel it. With a bashful bite of her lip, she nodded.

“I’m going to move you onto your back, alright?”

“Okay.”

With her consent, he guided her down to rest chest to chest before hooking an arm around her back and rolling them over. He was so smooth with it that Rosaline gasped in surprise, now laid out on the bed again with him gloriously over top of her, still inside her, and bathed in the soft warm glow of the bedside lamps. That handsome smile of his was ever present on his lips.

“Comfortable?” he checked in.

“Comfortable,” Rosaline echoed in the affirmative. Her hands magnetized to his chest, sliding over his pecs and the faint dusting of chest hair between them, and then her fingers traced his collarbones and finally rested on his broad shoulders. She gave him a little tug and he took the hint, leaning down to capture her lips with his in a searing, passionate kiss. Tasting herself on his tongue would never get old and although it had grown to be a recurring theme, the added pleasure of doing so with him buried deep inside her made it all the more thrilling. She wondered if he could hear how hard her heart was beating.

When their kiss broke, a thin string of spit broke between their lips. His eyes skimmed over her face as she laid out beneath him, hair fanned over the pillow and she was sure her cheeks were flushed a brilliant pink. George leaned down to nuzzle his nose against her neck and he placed a soft kiss against her pulse point, “Mm, you look so good like this, my darling. You feeling okay so far?”

“Mmm,” she hummed dreamily with a small smile at his affection, her hands sliding around his waist to caress his warm skin, “Yeah, I’m good. I’m really good.”

George’s lips grazed across her jaw as he slowly pushed deeper into her before easing back out, starting to find a gentle, shallow pace to start them up again. Rosaline’s breath shuddered and her eyelashes fluttered as he started to move, her hands pressed firmly around his back as if to cling onto him as he set a slow pace. He ghosted kisses across her jaw and her cheek with his forearms on either side of her head, keeping their bodies close as he made love to her for the first time.

“You’re so tight, darling…so warm…God, you feel so good—” his words were shiver-worthy against her ear, his voice like honey.

Her ragged breaths were falling with every gentle thrust of his hips against hers as if he were pushing the air into her lungs at the same time. Their eyes stayed locked in their close proximity, sharing oxygen, sharing pleasure, sharing the moment that was only theirs to have. Rosaline’s legs naturally parted wider, permitting him deeper, and although his gentleness felt good, she was burning for more.

“Please,” she breathed, barely recognizing her own voice, “Please, sir.”

“What do you want?” he asked her against her cheek, his voice thick with pleasure, “Tell me.”

Rosaline squirmed underneath him, back arching and head tilting back and her hands wrapping around his biceps, “Mm, please, go faster. I want…more.”

“You want more, baby?” he purred tauntingly. He punctuated his words with a bit more speed, not wanting to give her too much for her first time but still wanting to be good for her. “Like that?”

“Mmm, yeah, fuck—” Rosaline’s fingers pressed into the muscle of his arms, fluttering eyes still locked on his.

“Yeah?” George stared back into her eyes as his body moved against hers in slow but sure thrusts.

It was almost clear across his expression that he was holding himself back but, at the same time, the way he looked at her made her feel like she was absolutely everything in the universe to him; like nothing else mattered. Oh, she wanted to live in that moment forever with him, wanting to keep him inside her for the rest of time. And when he leaned down to kiss her again, her whole body shivered with pleasure.

They kissed languidly, sloppily, tongues meeting between swollen lips and off-centered kisses, all their focus on the way he slid into her and back out almost all the way, giving her every last inch in tender, generous, almost loving, strokes. His fingers tangled in the ends of her hair that splayed out across the pillow, gently touching her like she was an angel incarnate. Her hands were all over him like she didn’t know where to touch, like the sensations she was feeling were so intense that she desperately needed something to hold onto, her fingers dragging helplessly across the smooth skin of his back as she writhed beneath him and tried to keep kissing him.

As if sensing her struggle, he blindly guided her hands down to the pillow on either side of her head so he could lace his fingers with hers in a snug grip. Rosaline could have melted on the spot at the gesture and if they weren’t still kissing, he would have been able to see the way her eyebrows quirked as if in a sweet pout. The bedroom was a steamy mess of body heat and pleasured sounds—their kisses, moans, the faint creak of the bed frame—and Rosaline was attuned to everything all at once.

The taste of his mouth was like heaven and she kissed him back with a hunger that was unquenchable, clashing of lips and tongue in a dance of desire and passion and lust, her fingers tightening around his to clutch onto him, grounding herself in him. Deep inside her, the pressure of that glorious fullness sparked heat in every single nerve ending, luring him in with a warm and sure grip with every thrust. Part of her couldn’t believe this was really happening, that everything she had fantasized about was coming true right then and there. And with him; such a perfect vision of a man that her most elaborate fantasies couldn’t even comprehend.

It sounded silly but she felt like so much had been leading up to this moment, a journey of self-discovery and freedom of passion and independence. The realization that it was all hers had her unable to hide the small whimper that fell into their kiss. She turned her face away from his kiss, letting his forehead rest against hers as he kept his tender pace and she desperately tried to blink away the tears of pleasure and relief that were blurring in her eyes.

“You’re so perfect, you know that?” George whispered adoringly, “Such a good girl, so beautiful…taking all of me. Does it feel good, darling?”

“Yeah,” Rosaline choked out, voice quivering, hands tight in his, “Yeah, feels so good. Please don’t stop.”

“Won’t stop,” he promised, leaning down to lick his way into her mouth again before capturing her lips with his own. After a second, he spoke again, against her lips, “Won’t ever stop, baby. You have all of me.”

She could feel that pressure building within her, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening a little more second by second, but it didn’t quite feel like enough to get her there. She tried to scrunch her eyes closed to focus on the feeling, get herself in that mindset, wanting so badly to allow herself to come from this and this alone. Her needy whimpers muffled against his lips, hips trying to push up against his, desperate for more.

Reading her like a well-loved book, George spoke, “You wanna come for me?”

Before she could protest that she likely couldn’t without more stimulation, he let go of one of her hands and snaked it down between their bodies to get his fingers on her clit. She was so fucking sensitive that only the first graze had her entire body shuddering, mouth falling open in a soft gasp, eyes locked on his. Between the lube and her own arousal that had only grown tenfold since they finally successfully started, his fingers could glide easily in quick precise circles over her swollen clit while not faltering the pace of his thrusts.

Rosaline’s free hand flew to the back of his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling his forehead right back down against hers with a choked moan. Her other hand, still clutching his against the pillow, only tightened its grip. The tears that brimmed in her eyes took her by surprise, not having anticipated that tears could come from pleasure; yet here she was.

“Please,” her voice sounded unfamiliar with how quivering and pathetic she sounded but that was the last thing on her mind. “I want more of you. I want all of you.”

“You have me. You can have as much of me as you want.” George replied in an easy breath.

Rosaline squirmed and panted beneath him, desperate to be satisfied.

George, like he so often did, spoke her right into it, whispering auditory pleasure right to her, “Come on, darling. I know you’re close. I know you want to come for me.”

“Please, please—” she cried out shakily, tightening her grip in the roots of his hair.

“Fuck, Rose, you’re getting so fucking tight—” George groaned lowly as if they were words he had been trying to swallow back, desperately trying to keep himself going, thrusting into her at that same dizzyingly tender pace, “Come on, darling, that’s it.”

His fingers slipped over her clit far too easily, helping lure her closer and closer and starting to tighten that boiling hot coil in the pit of her stomach more and more. It was getting harder to hold back her whimpers and moans and ragged breaths yet alone the tears that blurred her vision no matter how much she was trying to keep his eye contact. Forehead to forehead, they laid entangled on his bed, joined as one, both striving to reach that perfect peak.

“I got you. I’m right here. Come on.” George whispered right to her, “Come for me.”

The sob that broke past Rosaline’s lips the moment her orgasm washed over her startled her. Her whole body trembled with it, shuddering under him, a single tear slipping from her eye and carving its way down her cheek as she writhed and moaned and cried out his name in waves of pleasure. George held her tightly through it, his words of praise a haze in the background of her euphoria, everything so red, hot, perfect.

He didn’t last much longer after her, as if how fucking tight she got when she came around him being far too much for him to bear. The feeling of his cock throbbing inside her had her mouth falling slack, fingers clutching onto his hair, hips rolling up against his instinctively as if to chase every second of his orgasm. George always sounded like angels singing when he came but, in that moment, the sound of his moans sounded extra good, his panted breaths falling against her cheek as he released into the condom, nestled deep inside her.

He slowed after a second, finally coming to a stop, still tucked inside her, giving them both a second to catch their bearings. Rosaline blinked up at him, staring into his dilated blue eyes that stared back at her with so much compassion that she almost shivered.

“Was that…are you…” he stumbled out, clearing his throat to rid the rasp of his words, “How was that?”

Rosaline couldn’t help the honest to God smile that spread across her face and she pried her hand out of his to allow it to join her other around the back of his neck, replying with an angelic, “Incredible.”

George mirrored her smile, almost a hint of relief on his face, “Good. Good, I’m glad.”

He dipped down to kiss her again, sharing that moment of breathless euphoria together for a few seconds longer. Then, he was carefully sitting back from her arms to kneel between her legs and he carefully pulled out.

The feeling of pulling out felt so strange, almost a bit of an ache in itself, the sudden emptiness more of an adjustment as her muscles had to ease back into their normal state. She bit her bottom lip at the feeling, lifting her head up from the pillow to glance down to look at the both of them in their aftermath. The bit of blood streaked on the condom didn’t go unnoticed but George didn’t bring any attention to it as he carefully rolled it off and then reached over to the side of the bed to wrap the soiled condom in a tissue to be disposed of.

Rosaline watched his simple action, asking softly, “Did I bleed a lot?”

George glanced back at her as if surprised by her question. But he took another glance between her legs and let his fingers slide across her messy pussy before shaking his head casually, “Not a lot, no. Just a tad. Is it sore?”

“A bit,” she mumbled.

He settled down beside her and she instinctively snuggled up close to him, letting him pull her into his side under his arm as he pressed a kiss to her temple. Her eyes fluttered shut, her intense high fading into a pleasant, warm lingering buzz in the comfort of his arms.

“You’re incredible,” George whispered into her hair, leaving another kiss there before speaking again, “Can I get you anything?”

Rosaline tucked her arm around his middle as he pulled the covers up around them and she replied softly, “Not right now.”

“Just a cuddle?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay,” he breathed into her hair as he pulled her body impossibly closer.

The heat of his skin felt like home beneath his soft bed sheets, snuggled up at his side and in the protection of his strong arms. Her glasses sat slightly crooked on her face from how she was resting her head against his chest but neither made a move to adjust them, preferring the imperfectness of their perfect moment. Besides, the sudden feeling of exhaustion that was overcoming her made her feel like nothing more than jelly in his arms.

Rosaline felt inexplicably tied to him in that moment; as if they had just sealed themselves together in a sense of emotional permanence. She never wanted to leave that room, that bed…him. Nothing felt like this. Ever.

After a moment of their peaceful silence, she spoke into the warm air of his bedroom, “Thank you.”

George’s hand gave her shoulder a squeeze, “Why are you thanking me, darling?”

She turned her face towards his, still cuddled against his chest, meeting his gaze as she explained, “For being someone I can trust enough like this…and for being patient with me through this whole journey…while I figure myself out.”

He let out a soft hum in acknowledgement and pressed another soft kiss against her temple, “You don’t have to thank me for that, my love, I should be thanking you. I should be thanking you for placing your trust in me, for bestowing upon me this absolute honour.”

She leaned up just enough to steal a kiss from his lips and then another before he was cradling her head in his hand and guiding her to rest back down against his chest, tucking her head under his chin. Her eyes fluttered closed to bask in the moment, settling into the sound of his heartbeat.

Then, she asked a question that had been prying at her for who knew how long, “Have you ever taken someone’s virginity before?”

“No, I haven’t,” George replied honestly, simply, the weight of it hanging in the air for a moment, “You’re the first.”

“So, we’re kind of like each other's firsts…in slightly different ways.”

She could feel the way he smiled against her temple, “Yeah, I guess you’re right, darling.”

He held her against his body so firmly, grounding her in the moment and his presence, his fingers gently threading through her hair and over her shoulder as his breaths fell calmly against the crown of her head. Rosaline, despite having come down from her orgasm, could still feel her heart racing from just being held by him. She didn’t expect to feel so at peace afterwards, so calm and relaxed and content, feeling safe and sure in ways she had never quite experienced before.

After a moment, George spoke softly into her hair, words so gentle and so honest, “I’m so happy I got to be your first.”

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