The Damsel in the Congregation: Part 2.
James & Rosalie spend their first day together as lovers.
Based on a post by KikiKisses. Listen to the ►Podcast at Explicit Novels.
Rosalie and James laid on her bed, breathing hard, when he started to laugh incredulously. What had just happened? Had a life-long hermit, purposely indifferent to girls and romance and the possibility of ever, ever falling for someone, just made desperate, passionate love? And not just to any girl, but the sweetest little garden sprite imaginable? Was he actually thinking in metaphors? Is that what love does?
Rosalie popped her adorable face up to his and giggled. "Oh, that was wonderful. Let's do it again!" He was still gasping for breath between little spurts of laughter. He pulled her face to his and kissed her with a hearty smack that made her giggle even more as she laid her head on his chest. Her hand snuck down and he grabbed her wrist. "Not yet," he wheezed. She tilted her head to the side and made a pouty face, then kissed him; first sweetly then passionately, moving her tongue against his and humming like she was enjoying a particularly delicious treat.
"Are you really ready to go again?" James's eyes were bulging.
Rosalie sat up cross-legged. "I think so. Of course, you did most of the work; this time." She stroked his face and looked lovingly at him, then laid back down with her head on his chest. "Oh, hold me please. I can't stand not having every bit of you against me."
He was thrilled to acquiesce, rolling to his side and laying her head against his arm so he could look into those enormous brown eyes, finally giving himself permission to memorize them, and every inch of her.
"I can't believe this happened," he whispered.
She kissed him again. "I can. I've never wanted anything so much. I've been dreaming about it for months."
"Was it; what you hoped?" James was nervous. Even though she seemed to be having a grand time, and he was pretty sure he had made her climax when he touched her below, he was still insecure. He was just so; average. Medium build, a boring face and the world's most ordinary cock. But her face when he was in her seemed very happy, and she squealed and gasped as he moved, just making it up as he went along, trying to settle into a rhythm.
"Um hmm," she nodded slyly. "Better, even."
They could barely stop kissing to converse. They sometimes only got a word or two out at a time, their lips punctuating like commas. James was very surprised by her. He knew girls could be very romantic, but he didn't know they could be that enthusiastic about sex. She had immediately tried to drag him to her bedroom, and when he finally felt comfortable enough to go she was yanking his pants off like they were running out of time. She seemed to love every minute, and she was already ready for seconds?
"Was this your; first time?"
Rosalie seemed a little offended, but decided not to spoil things by getting too put out. "Of course. You are the first person I've ever been in love with. Couldn't you tell?"
James remembered it hurt her a little, and it took a bit of doing to push through, but he really didn't know if it was always like that or just the first time.
"I; don't really know. I've never even kissed a girl before. I never expected to, so I didn't really try to; learn anything."
Rosalie's eyes became sultry. "Well, you're a quick study," she whispered, kissing his neck. "I didn't know if I'd be able to come the first time. It must be because you are a pianist. Those long fingers of yours know how to touch the keys just right." James felt himself growing hard again as his eyes widened and his cheeks burned. Who was this girl? He fell in love with her sweetness, her gentleness, and the way her eyes seemed to reach straight into his soul. Well, she was always a bit of an enigma, and this was a delightful surprise.
He rolled on top of her, and kissed her slowly and sensuously. She was right, he was a fast learner. He nipped her neck, and moved down slowly kissing and licking her nape, her chest. He was just doing what he wanted, and it was what she wanted too. They were perfectly in tune. He kissed his way down to her tits, and her breath caught when he pulled one into his mouth, sucking and nibbling while his hand toyed with the other one, squeezing it and playing with her hard nipple.
"James," she quietly gasped. "Oh; oh;" Her voice collapsed into a strangled sound as he switched tits and began to fondle the other nipple, wet from his tongue, stiff and swollen. Rosalie's responses were ecstatic, and she spread her legs so he could move his other hand down to her soft, slippery cunt. He was excited that he had made her come earlier from touching her little nub, and couldn't wait to try again.
Rosalie's sounds were almost like crying. She was so desperate, it was hard for her to tell him what to do, and he tried to remember. The left side seemed more sensitive, and she moaned when he used his pointer and middle finger to flutter against it. Her breath grew more ragged, her face contorted, she grunted almost in frustration but he could tell he was doing it right. He took one of her tits into his mouth again and she let out a sound almost like she was in pain.
"Harder," she whispered, straining. She started making little staccato grunts. "Faster" she gasped and he could tell she was trying hard to be still, to not disrupt his rhythm. Her little bud was so hard, so slippery. His own erection was almost unbearable, he got more and more aroused as he watched her little body squirm. He kept sucking her nipple and her voice got louder. Suddenly her whole body leapt, her back arching, her hips thrusting against his hand. She let out a final cry, covering her face with her hands. He let go of her nipple with a pop and she moaned, her voice strained. "Please. I need you."
He slid into her with no resistance and she thrust against him, holding him as though she were afraid he would slip away. He tried to be more deliberate this time, moving slower and finding a rhythm, like he did when he was rubbing her. Soon she joined him, pushing her hips up when he thrust down. "Kiss me," she moaned, and he smashed his mouth into hers, their tongues thrusting in time.
Satisfied that she was enjoying herself, James concentrated on his own pleasure. He was overwhelmed, there were so many things happening at once. His tongue in her mouth, her tits pressed against his chest, her hands gripping the back of his hair, her feet against his ass. The feeling of being inside her was indescribable.
Something in the back of his head told him men were supposed to try and last, but he couldn't begin to figure that out right now. His body was on autopilot, chasing after the ultimate sensation. He slammed harder and she gasped out his name, alternating with "Yes!" He hit his peak and exploded inside her, trembling and collapsing against her. He had never felt anything like it in his life. He could live forever inside her tight, pink softness and never grow weary.
He lifted his head and looked at her. Her eyes were closed, her lips were moving like they were trying to speak but nothing was coming out. Every time he looked at her, she was more beautiful than the moment before. Tears started streaming down her face. "Oh James; I love you. I love you." She kept saying it, over and over, and he kissed her face, finally lifting up part of the sheet to gently dab them away. He knew tears were her default emotion, but he still worried about it. He wondered if he would ever stop worrying about everything.
"Rosalie; are you alright?"
She nodded, and then burst in tears anew. "I'm just so happy that it hurts. My heart is aching even more than before."
He teared up as well. "Me too. Oh Rosalie. How did this happen?"
"I prayed for you. Every night after my parents died, I prayed that I would find him. That I wouldn't be alone anymore. I saw you, and I wondered if maybe it was you. It wasn't the first time, I had been looking for years. The first touch of your hands to the organ keys I felt a bolt of lightning go through me. The first note. It happened all at once. I saw your hands move, I saw your face, I heard something beyond just the notes. And when our eyes met, I knew for sure."
She kept sobbing. "But it wasn't happening. You kept moving farther and farther away from me. It hurt so bad, James. I loved you more and more every time I saw you, and you wouldn't even look at me. I thought perhaps I was crazy, thinking you could love me. Today was our last chance. What if you didn't come? I don't even want to imagine it."
"I don't either. Oh Rosalie. I'm so sorry I hurt you. I was hurting myself, if that makes you feel any better."
She laughed. "Maybe a little bit. You deserve it."
"I do. I do. I accept it. I was a fool."
"Why, James? Why were you so closed off?"
"I; I don't know." James grimaced a little bit. He had tried to forget most of his life before he came here, and he had been successful, for the most part. "I just felt like nothing, and why would something want nothing?"
"How can you say that?" Rosalie reached up to touch his face." You are a talented musician, and you are a good man. I know you are. Unless you have some dark, hideous secret I don't know about."
He smiled wryly. "No. Nothing salacious. Nothing at all. Lots of people can play the piano. It's really; it's the only thing I'm good at. Maybe that's it. I wasn't a great pupil, or popular. I just; faded. My family never seemed very impressed with me. I didn't have a lot of friends, and I just sort of; decided; that I was meant to be alone."
"Darling, that doesn't make any sense. Look at all the gross, piggish men in the world who are married. And all the ordinary ones. Most people aren't very exciting, but they manage to find someone who is excited by them." She smiled, and kissed him. "I am; extremely excited by you."
"I'm trying to accept that. This still doesn't feel real."
"Why don't you just tell me you are excited by me, too?" She tilted her head flirtatiously.
James grabbed her face and kissed her hard, pushing his tongue into her mouth. "There, how's that?"
She frowned teasingly. "I still want you to say it."
"Rosalie." He began to alternate kissing her neck, her lips, her shoulders. "I have never been so turned on in my life. I couldn't look at you before, because the second I saw your big brown eyes something else would get big too." James chuckled, and gently bit her shoulder, causing her to shiver. "I couldn't get comfortable. I couldn't say I wanted you, I didn't even think it to myself. But I did, and I do, and I always will. You are the sexiest thing I have ever seen."
Rosalie's eyes were clouded by desire, and she whimpered a little. "Go on."
"Did you know I had never seen a woman's tits before?"
"Not even in pictures?
James blushed. "Well; once an older boy in the neighborhood tried to show me some magazines, but it made me sick to my stomach, and I tried to forget what I saw. There was something about their faces that felt horrible to me." James looked down at Rosalie's tits and began to work his way down, kissing them. She took a deep breath and sighed.
"Then I saw yours and I was so happy, because they are perfect. I don't ever want to see any others. Your nipples look like chocolate kisses, and I want them to just; melt in my mouth. They taste better than chocolate though." He licked one nipple, then the other. Rosalie closed her eyes and took a quick breath.
"James; I; I want you to know how good it feels." He held her tits and began to alternate quick little licks right on the tip of her nipples, teasing her, and she let out a shuddering breath. "Oh; oh god;" Rosalie never swore, but it was almost like she was praying. For him to stop, or continue, or in thanks and praise for the joy of this blessing. "I; I;" She made a sound like she was thirsty and finally drank some water. He caught her nipple gently between his teeth, and ran his tongue over it. She put her hands over her face. "How; how are you doing that? How do you know?" He could see her start to writhe.
"I'm just doing what I want," he whispered, and he pulled her nipple into his mouth and sucked lightly, rubbing the other one between his thumb and forefinger. He alternated this for a while, interjecting the teasing, light bites that made her gasp. He was really starting to enjoy the exquisite torture he was inflicting on her.
"Can you; are you ready to?" She was panting, and he knew from the movement of her hips that she was ready for another round. But his own cock was spent.
"I can't yet; but I would love to touch you again." And he decided to tease her a little more. He stroked her soft hairs over her puffy mound. She grimaced. He stroked her where her thighs met her hips, running his fingers over her belly button and down right under her soft belly to the expanse above her vulva. He rubbed each side of her outer lips, stroking with one finger, tickling her softly, and she hissed and thrust her hips up. Finally he stroked her pussy very slightly, up and down, gently dipping in a little farther with each pass.
"Please;" she groaned.
"Please what?" James felt utterly wicked, watching his beloved shudder and squirm.
"Please; please touch me."
"I am touching you."
"Touch me on the top; you know where."
He touched her on the top of her vulva, on the outside.
"Here?"
She whimpered. "You're being cruel."
He chuckled. "Am I?"
She grabbed his hand and thrust it on her clitoris. "Here! Oh please, please!"
He gently stroked her, almost soothingly. "Ah. Why didn't you say so?"
"James; please rub me."
"I am rubbing you."
Her voice was catching. She was so red, so swollen, so incredibly wet. He was fascinated. He didn't know anything about this even this morning, and now he was learning not just how to arouse his lover, but drive her mad. He had no idea how much fun he'd been missing.
"James!" She cried out, wiggling her hips.
"Shush," he whispered, and he began to move his fingers in little circles around the firm little bud. He dipped his fingers down for more wetness, and she drew her legs up, her feet almost to her hips. "Yes; that's it;" she whimpered.
"It's so beautiful," he whispered as he gently rubbed her. "It looks like rose petals, covered in dew. I could write an entire symphony just about this part of your body." Rosalie moaned, her hands gripping the sheets. This new movement seemed to be working, and when he talked he could feel a new rush of wetness each time. Her mouth was open and her eyes; she looked like she was in a completely altered state. He decided to just keep doing what he was doing, not changing his pace, or pressure, or angle. And he decided to keep talking to her.
"Hmm; do you like this, honey?" Rosalie let out a pained squeak. "That's right, kitten. Just enjoy yourself." Kitten? It was utterly bizarre how being in love, and lust, brought all kinds of endearments and expressions that would have felt completely foreign to him before. He had practically considered himself asexual up til that morning and now he was pleasuring a nubile goddess for the third time that day, and talking her through it like he was her skiing instructor or something.
The word kitten definitely did something to her, he could feel her stiffen when he said it, and she flushed even deeper. He kept up the circles, his long, limber fingers used to repetitive movement. He suddenly had an idea, and moved his fingers down, using the heel of his hand to keep pressure on the little bud. At first she made a little cry of disappointment, but then she felt one of his long, slender fingers enter her and start to move in and out and her cry quickly turned into a sigh.
"Is that good, baby?" She nodded, her face contorting. She looked like she was hurting, and he knew now that was a great sign. He felt something at the back of her, a little rough spot, and he crooked his finger towards it and began to rub it more deliberately, testing it. She jumped, and then began to move her hips a little.
"Hmm;" she sighed, and he slipped another finger in, still grinding on her hard little nub with the heel of his hand. Her face kept tensing and relaxing in time with the movement of his fingers inside of her, and he could tell she was getting close. He sped up just a little, and went a little harder, and she was trying very hard to stay still but she couldn't resist gently lifting her hips and pulsing against him.
Her face kept twisting, and she kept whimpering. "You look so sexy, Rosalie," he whispered, his voice husky. She was shuddering; she was so incredibly close; her voice made little staccato sobs. "That's right, Kitten. You want to come, don't you? What do you need, baby?" She whined incoherently, biting her lip. "Oh sweetie; I just want you to feel as good as you make me feel." She cried out, she was becoming frustrated, even though the pleasure was better than ever. Finally he changed tactics. "Rosalie, my darling; I love you so much. Show me how much you love me."
"James!" she almost screamed, and came harder than she had before. "Oh god;" She was trembling. "It's; so; good; please kiss me." He bent down; he kept his fingers inside her, gently stroking them in and out, and kissed her slowly, his tongue lazily exploring her mouth. It took her a long time to regain coherence this time, and he was full of pride. The sexiest girl he'd ever met was practically melting into the sheets because of what he'd done to her. This was beyond his wildest dreams. When Rosalie found speech again she turned and looked at him with her gigantic brown eyes and challenged him.
"Are you Quite Certain you've never done this before?"
James laughed. "As far as I can remember, no."
Rosalie shook her head. "How. How are you so good at that." It wasn't really a question.
James's face grew serious. "I love you, and all I want to do is please you. Making you climax might be my greatest accomplishment in this life."
She let out a shuddering breath. "This is the best day of my life. And it's only;" she squinted at the clock, "3:00 pm."
"Oh good," said James. "We have hours yet."
"I forgot; you have to go home at some point."
James kissed her, and held her face. "You are my home, no matter where I lay my head. But yes, I probably should stay the night at my place."
"Let's not think about it right now."
"Agreed." He paused. "So, how many times do you think we can make love in a day?"
Rosalie laughed. "I don't know, but I'm ready to find out. Do you think we'll ever get tired of it?"
James sighed. "I guess at some point people have to go back to their regular lives, and somehow they get used to it, but I can't imagine that right now." He laid on his side and pulled her to him, kissing her cheek as he spooned her. "I feel almost guilty, like I'm obsessed with sex. But you know I love you for more than just your body, right?"
"Oh I hope not. That's all I love you for." She looked up at him, trying to sound serious, but her eyes were laughing. "This is just what happens when people fall in love. I don't mind it one bit. I'm just worried we'll run out of energy before we're sated."
"I don't think I'll ever be sated. But we should probably eat something if we want to keep going til nightfall."
Rosalie put on a silky floral robe, which he thought was an interesting garment for a woman living alone who had never had a sexual partner, but he was beginning to understand the importance of aesthetics to her. Her apartment was colorful, her clothing, even her lipstick. She switched on the radio to a station playing soft jazz, and sauntered into the kitchen to fix them an early dinner.
Her cat, Mr. Rochester, stared up at James, swishing his fluffy black tail with a suspicious look on his whiskered face while James pulled his pants and undershirt back on. Rosalie was putting the kettle on and he came up behind her, kissing her neck and wrapping his arms around her waist. Her head fit perfectly under his chin, nestled in like a dovetail joint. She shivered slightly at his touch, laying her own arms on top of his. She turned to the refrigerator and he simply moved with her as though she was wearing him like a second skin, which made them both laugh softly. Neither of them wanted to let go of the other one.
She pulled out sandwich fixings and deli potato salad and they feasted together, then she poured them tea and brought out some shortbread dipped in chocolate. They stared at each other quietly for a while, memorizing each other's faces. It's a privilege lovers often forget.
Before two people are of one mind, every bit of information must be absorbed quickly and deliberately. One must pay attention to conversations without appearing to eavesdrop, to look at the person you are enamored of as though you aren't, but not ignore them either. Everything must be carefully balanced.
But now James just stared at his lover, and she stared back. Sometimes one of them would laugh a little and look down, but their heads always returned to a face to face posture, allowing their eyes to caress one another without fear of being caught. Rosalie's tiny hand crept across the table and took his hand, gently rubbing her thumb against his.
Finally he was able to count the tiny freckles that scattered across her nose. There were 15. She noticed a little mole on his neck, and decided it was a bullseye, vowing to aim her kisses there. Separated by the small table, they found intimacy in the silent study of their favorite subject, each other.
The air felt swollen, the way it feels outdoors right before it rains. Their hearts were clouds full to almost bursting with new feeling. Hearts and stomachs full, they settled onto the sofa, his head against the arm, hers against his chest.
"Why do you love me?" he asked, kissing her forehead.
She looked up and wrinkled her nose. "I told you!"
"No, you told me how. Now, what if you had seen me, and were struck by lightning, but then it turns out I was a real jerk. There must be something about me that made me your idea of lovable after that."
Rosalie squeezed him. "Do you remember the day little Shirley lost the button off her dress? The ones shaped like a ladybug? Her mother made her that dress and she was so proud of it. I remember you spent quite a while looking for it with her."
"You did too."
"A lot of men aren't patient with children. I've seen how you handle the children's choir. I knew someone so gentle with little ones was someone I wanted to know better. When you found it she threw herself around your knees and hugged you. She trusted you. So that was one reason." Rosalie reached her hand up to touch his cheek. "Why do you love me?"
"I guess it's the same reason. You helped her, too. You are always helping out with the children, or volunteering to decorate, or bake cookies, or visit the shut-ins. You always just seemed so unselfish to me. A pair of big brown eyes and a big, beautiful heart. I; haven't always been around people who were so kind. It's something I notice."
Rosalie looked up at James earnestly. "I will confess; I do like to volunteer. But, any opportunity to be near the cute church music director was one I would always take. So maybe I am a little selfish. If I had any voice at all I would have joined the choir, but I was trying to attract you, not drive you away." They both laughed. It was true, Rosalie was not a singer by any means. "So I volunteered to help Mrs. Russell watch the children in the nursery while their parents rehearsed." Rosalie suddenly felt a little exposed, not only because she was only wearing a silky robe. "Is; does that bother you at all? That I had an ulterior motive?"
James kissed her on the top of her head. "The opposite. As schemes go, that's pretty innocent." He chuckled. "I didn't want to admit it; I liked seeing you on Wednesdays. I always liked seeing you. You calm me. So many people make me feel irritable, or inferior. I mean, you made me really nervous, and now I know why but at the same time, you brought me peace."
They kissed with fervor. "I'm so happy," Rosalie whispered. "I didn't know happiness like this existed. I knew it was out there, but it's so much better than I ever knew."
James felt his undershirt grow wet, and tilted her face up. "I never knew a girl who cried so easily" he said, his mouth twisted in a wry expression. "People are going to think I'm mean to you."
Rosalie laughed, embarrassed, and tried to wipe her tears away. "I've always been like this," she sighed. "You'll have to get used to it."
"I'll try and carry an extra handkerchief."
Difficulty departing.
It was past eleven, and Rosalie and James were trying to say goodbye, and not doing a very good job of it.
"Sweetheart, I'll see you in less than 12 hours. And we can go straight home after church."
Rosalie had put on pajamas, and James was dressed. They kept standing up, embracing tightly, then sitting back down on the couch to hold each other and kiss some more. At this point they had given up and he was reclining against the throw pillows and she was pressed against him, squeezing him and pressing the side of her face to his chest while he played with her hair.
"I'm afraid if you walk out the door you'll disappear into the mist. What if this is all just a dream?" Rosalie sniffled.
"Then it's my dream too, and we're in it together. Maybe we can agree to meet each other every night while the real us sleeps?"
"Will you call me as soon as you get home?"
"Of course." He kissed the top of her head and laid his cheek against it. They had made love multiple times today, and he was practically chafing, but she was also making him hard again. James couldn't believe it. Were all girls like this? Was he always like this, and he just didn't know it? He shifted uncomfortably.
"Sweetheart; I think I need to go home and put some ointment on myself, or tomorrow might be disappointing."
"For you, maybe. But as long as your fingers aren't too tired I think I'll be entirely satisfied."
"I'm not sure that's possible."
"What are you talking about? I've been very satisfied every time. Just because you get a good meal doesn't mean you aren't going to be hungry again. And the better the food, the more you crave something delicious." She kissed him, teasingly, but then her eyes grew serious again, and tears began to sting. "You know I just want to be with you any way I can be. I crave you. I don't know how I'm going to sustain myself the next few hours."
"That's very flattering."
Rosalie scrunched up her face. "Don't you feel the same way?"
James laughed, and squeezed her. "I'm trying to be strong for both of us." His face grew solemn, and he kissed her tenderly. "Thank you."
She stroked his face. "For what?"
"For giving me the most amazing gift. I didn't know anyone could love me. I didn't know I had the capacity to love anyone. Even if I only had you for one day, it would be worth it."
"Don't even think about that. We are going to live forever, and never, ever be apart."
To be continued. Based on a post by KikiKisses, for Literotica.