Chapter One
I threw the thick blanket to the side and slid out of bed, rushing to the window to see my parents drive out the gate. College was resuming, but I was not ready to resume just yet. The reason was not far-fetched – my brother was home. He was done with his master’s program and was now home until the right job would present itself. He was just back yesterday and I wanted to speak to him and listen to him talk. I enjoyed listening to him speak every time. At eighteen years of age, I still had memories of when I was much younger and Kirk used to sing me lullabies until I fell asleep at night. The memories are always fresh in my mind. I loved the sound of his voice and the melody that came with it. We were always very close and I told him all about my world. He would listen to me and give advice. It was great to always have someone to talk to. I told him about the first boy who ever asked me out. In told him about the first time I placed my lip on a boy’s. I filled him in on every detail of my life as a little girl. But then I started to mature and I could not be as close to him as I was before. I had a sister, Katy, who was just a year older than I was, but I never really did have the kind of connection that I had with Kirk with her until Kirk went to college and then I suddenly had to establish a bond with my sister. We became close; quite close. I trusted her with my deepest secrets, and she trusted me with hers. But girls would be girls and we had our issues like all sisters do. We never once said sorry, but we never let a disagreement or the grudges that came with it linger for too long.
I had missed Kirk so much and I really wanted to rekindle the connection that we once had. I wanted us to be close once more despite how differently our paths had led. Still, he was my Kirk, and I still wanted him to see me as the little girl he sang lullabies to. I still wanted him to see me as his sweet little sister who could do no wrong. Just as the thoughts ran through my mind, I placed both hands on my chest when my phone suddenly began to ring. It had shocked me out of the reverie that I was having. I walked toward the bed and saw Stephen’s name on the caller ID. I answered and waited for the sound of his voice. It came light as always.
“Hi, Beatrice my love, how are you doing today?” His voice sounded sweetly from the other end of the phone. Stephen was my boyfriend and one of the sweetest guys I knew. He was brilliant and smart and our relationship began from him teaching me some difficult topics in Mathematics in my first year in college. He was committed to the cause and made sure that I understood every single angle. I later got to know that he had eagerly agreed to tutor me because he was a secret admirer. It did not bother me because I already liked him for who he was… plus he was handsome. And since Kirk, my big brother was not in close proximity in all ways imaginable; I needed someone to fill that void. I did not just treat Stephen as my boyfriend; I also treated him as my brother. I talked with him and sought his advice. He was young and inexperienced but he always did his best to give me the best advice that he could.
When I found out that Stephen was secretly seeing Rosaline in another department, I was broken at first, but was surprised at how quickly I got over it,. When he asked me to forgive him for the umpteenth time, I did. It felt strange that I was not as hurt as I initially thought I would be. It then occurred to me that maybe I just did not love him enough. I admired him, quite alright, but it was not love. It was simply admiration and the fact that I liked him for who he was. And then one day we were alone in the house. Everybody had gone out, and I had stayed back, feigning illness. He called me and I mentioned that I was home alone. It felt like a millisecond between when I dropped the call and when I heard the croaking of the doorbell. He came in with a wide smile and his white set teeth reflected my face. I returned his smile, noticing the brightness of his eyes.
We spoke slowly and talked about us. He told me how much he loved me but I just gave a nod. And then I felt the heat of his hand on mine. I looked up and saw that he had his eyes pointed directly into mine. It was at that moment that I realized what was about to happen. We had kissed and touched before, but we had never had sex. I knew that it was what he had in mind. He wanted to have sex with me. My mind took a swirl and many questions pounced into my fragile head. Did I really want to have sex with him? I had already established the fact that I did not love him half as much as I once thought I did. Was I ready to give my virginity to him?
But what did it matter? I was a grown lady and I did not need to think too much of sex. I always fascinated and imagined how my first sexual experience would be like. It was time to find out for real. I gave a slight smile, and one also appeared on the corner of his lips. He had my consent now, so he leaned in and kissed me on my lip. I did not respond at first. He glared at me and planted another soft kiss on my lip. While his lips were still on mine, I slowly parted my lips and allowed him tasted the heat from my mouth. He was encouraged by this and continued to kiss me. And then his tongue slid in and danced tango with mine. I felt him begin to get up. We were both lying on the bed. He got up over me and continued kissing me deeply. I felt his hand slowly begin to work its way to my breast and I knew from the change in his breathing that he could not wait to do many things to me.
The first touch of his hand on my breast was sensual through the fabric of my clothing and I gasped with his mouth still in mine. He touched me and squeezed me and then hen got me naked. It was the first time that I was completely naked before him. I saw a line of sweat going down his neck just as he swallowed some saliva and I also saw the movement through his throat. He also got naked and I was happy to see that his manhood was just as eager as he was. I felt the increasing wetness between my legs and I could not wait for him to slide into me. When he finally plunged into me, it felt good, and then I felt the pain so I closed my eyes. It became more intense, and I bit my lip. I almost asked him to stop when it suddenly became sweet once more. The pain had turned into something different. I loved the feeling that I was experiencing so I urged him on with my hand behinds his back. He worked his way in and out of me and my legs soon followed the path of my hands, pinning him down, as if saying that he could never leave my vagina. And then the pleasure became more intense and I felt the rush of thick liquid. But it was not from me. It was his. He had released his cream inside me.