The Amours & Alarums of Eliza MacLean. Annie Warwick

she were the nineteen year old, and Billy the quaking virgin.

He put his cup down, took her hand, and kissed her gently on the inside of the wrist. He was relaxing, and some of his, really quite extensive, skill set was returning. “No, not weird. Really nice. We can take our time.” He smiled at her in a way that made her fanny2 twitch. “I was thinking we could make love, not just have sex. And that takes time.”

2 U.K. and Australian usage. For instance, landing on one’s fanny, as one does in the U.S., would be considered a frightful experience by most Australian females.

      “You have definitely done this before,” she commented.

      “Not exactly this,” he admitted.

      She climbed onto his lap with a knee either side. “Not yet taken a maidenhead then, milord?”

      “No, little trollop, and I look forward to it. But there are other things we can do before that happens.” He kissed her comprehensively, her lips, her neck and her shoulders which he had liberated from their shoulder straps. He could probably have taken said maidenhead there and then, but this was something he really wanted to do brilliantly, for both their sakes.

      So Richard, had he known, could at least have drawn comfort from the fact that his wish for an older and more experienced lover for Eliza’s first time was about to be realised.

      Billy stood up with Eliza still astride him and lowered her gently to the floor. “Take me to the bed,” he said, playing Cher’s part in Moonstruck. She recognised the line and, laughing, led him into the prepared boudoir. They stood face to face next to the black painted iron bed with its white sheets, neatly turned down, and lacy pillowslips. He nibbled at her lips rather than kissing them, and she, a quick study, nibbled him right back, while unbuttoning his shirt. He occupied himself with unzipping her sundress, sliding it down and letting it drop to the floor.

      As skin touched skin they both burst into flames and rushed, impatiently, out of the rest of their clothes. Billy had the primitive impulse to throw her roughly onto the bed and take her quickly, but he resisted the urge. Turning her around so her back was against him, he bent his head and pulled her hands up around the back of his neck, so she was completely opened out and exposed. He kissed her neck and ran his hands over her breasts and hips until her breathing was ragged and a sigh escaped her. Then she turned suddenly and quite unexpectedly took control, pushing him firmly onto the bed.

      His older woman had failed to instruct him in the initiation of virgins. He was on his own for this one, but he knew from boys’ locker room conversations (young men are surprisingly clinical and task oriented about these things) that the more sexually aroused the girl was, the easier the first penetration. It was an absolute first for our young lover, to be considering the comfort and pleasure of his partner unless it was for his own ultimate benefit. He had certainly faked consideration in the past, but this was the first time he found himself feeling such tenderness and concern, to the extent that his own pleasure was secondary.

      He needed to ease it back a notch so he kissed her some more, and ran his fingers slowly up the inside of her thigh. He threw the seduction manual away, techniques were forgotten, and his Don Juan Within took over. Such a soft, white little thigh – he had to slide down and worship it, kiss it thoroughly, from groin to knee and back again. She chuckled at this, deliciously, he thought. But then what would be a silly giggle in another girl was a thing of delight in Eliza. She stroked his hair, and when she pulled him back up to kiss him again, his fingers gently caressed and probed her.

      Eliza made a sharp sound, indicating shock, as two fingers slid carefully inside. The sounds she made quickly became gasps of pleasure as his fingers found what they were seeking. He didn’t need to enquire solicitously if she was okay. She was obviously very, very okay. Billy was totally and almost painfully hard, which helped in his dexterity with one-handed condom fitting, the wrapper already torn and waiting. An early lesson with his older woman to reduce condom fumblage resulted in formidable fitting speed. I’m sure somebody somewhere has introduced condom fitting as a competitive sport, and one feels that Billy would have acquitted himself well.

      She said, panting, “I don’t want this to happen without you in there.”

      Speech was difficult, but he reassured her. “We’ve got all day to get it right, love. We can try as often as you like!”

      She chuckled again and, apparently deciding to accept his offer of totally self-indulgent pleasure, pulled a pillow over her face to stifle the noises she was making and to hide her face. Billy took the pillow away, wanting to look at her, to hear her, as her body plunged and her head tossed from side to side in total abandonment. He brought her to the brink, then slowed her down several times, then, as she finally climaxed, and before she settled to earth again, he slid inside her. Another gasp of shock, and he stopped the movement.

      “No, don’t stop,” she said. In spite of the discomfort of being entered for the first time, she was unable to stop herself from pushing down on him. “It feels incredible.”

      If Billy had been able to access his frontal lobes or speech centres he might have thanked God for sending him such a libidinous, licentious little virgin with such a rudimentary hymen. As it was, Eliza was making lovely noises in rhythm with every move he made, somewhere between a whimper and a scream, and he was concentrating what little self-control he had on making sure he didn’t come before her. He gave himself to his own happy noises interspersed with affectionately and quite daftly muttering her name over and over, “Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie.” She took off again and this time she screamed the place down without the pillow over her face, and it set him off immediately. No-one was listening, so his voice joined hers, then, gasping for breath and looking at each other, they both burst out laughing.

      “Jesus!” he said, as he carefully removed himself from her, and the condom from himself. “Bloody hell!” he said, putting it conscientiously in an exquisite Murano glass bowl which, although not etched with the words Used Condoms, was clearly for that purpose. He hadn’t finished with the expletives yet. “Fuck me dead!” he mumbled in her ear as he snuggled her into his chest.

      “I was thinking of waiting a bit,” she said, innocently. He shook with what she took as laughter, and therefore a gratifying acknowledgement of her first R-rated jest as a non-virgin. Eliza was transfixed by her first experience of sex with an actual man. She wasn’t sure at first where her body began and ended, and therefore whether the body wrapped around her was Eliza’s or Billy’s.

      “Wow!” she said, breathlessly. “My father advised me to have sex with an older man the first time, and I can see he was right. Although I must say I don’t think he expected me to carry out his instructions for at least a couple of years,” she added in a subdued manner, noticing her Conscience glaring at her in an affronted fashion, a hand on one hip and pursing its lips. It looked a little like her Auntie Danni, in fact.

      Billy shot a nervous look at the door, immediately revived at the word “father”. He was not entirely happy with having Richard in the bed with them, but nonetheless asked, salaciously, “And what other advice did your father give you?”

      “Well, he did say never to believe a man who says ‘I love you’ during or straight after sex, because he is confusing love with gratitude.”

      Billy rolled over and kissed her. “You are absolutely gorgeous, and I adore you,” he said. “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

      “I love you more,” she said, with an amorous growl, biting his shoulder. She thought she really did love him but was secure in the knowledge that he wasn’t aware of it. Billy laughed delightedly. He thought perhaps he loved Eliza, but he also was secure in the knowledge that she wouldn’t take him seriously.

      “He also said,” she added, “never believe a man who says ‘I love you’ when he is trying to get you into bed, because, well, he is just trying to get you into bed.” She thought about that. “That is so wrong,” she said indignantly.