It's Not the Size That Counts Ch. 09

"You do seem to like carrying me around, Steven."

"It's fun. Largely because it drives you crazy, really."

"Brat."

"And your point is?"

"I brought my crutches, you know."

"What fun would that be?"

"You need a hobby."

Arriving in his bedroom, he gently set me on the side of the bed. Suddenly we were both a touch awkward, knowing what we were there to do but unsure where to start. Deciding to try to reassert some control over the situation, I reached out and started unbuttoning Steven's shirt. His chest was mostly smooth, with just a hint of fuzz in the centre. With the lights still on, I could appreciate the muscle definition in his shoulders and torso that I'd never noticed before, and I briefly wondered where he had achieved that, as he hadn't spent much time in the gym since we'd met. I tugged the end of the shirt out of his waistband, and he shrugged his shoulders to help it fall to the ground. I grabbed a couple of belt buckles and used them to pull him towards me, and I buried my face briefly against his flat stomach. As he played with my hair, I resumed work, popping the snaps on his jeans and struggling to slide them off his hips. They eventually came off, and it left him just in his underwear.

In past relationships, all the men's undies I'd seen had come in two varieties - boxers and briefs. Boxers, while often decorated with cutesy patterns, essentially looked like shorts. They revealed little, and I always found them a bit less than totally sexy, although anyone I'd discussed it with claimed they were more comfortable. Briefs, on the other hand, were tighter, thinner, and revealed much, but I had heard there were confining, and tended to bunch uncomfortably. Steven's, however, were different.

Tighter than boxers, but covering more area than briefs, they looked unbelievably sexy. They emphasized the curve of his ass, and his impressive erection was straining against the fabric. I shivered in fear at the same time that I licked my lips in anticipation. Strangely mixed reaction, I know, but there it was. He was incredibly sexy and intimidating as all hell simultaneously. Making a snap decision, I carefully extricated him from his (what I would later learn were called) boxer briefs, and before he could object, I leaned forward and licked the shaft of his hard cock from base to tip. It bobbed slightly with his heartbeat, and using one hand to stabilize myself against his hip, I grasped him with the other and held the head out so I could engulf it in my mouth.

He groaned and cursed under his breath as he felt my lips surround him. A couple of my ex-boyfriends and I had practiced the fine art of oral sex a lot, and I had been told I was fairly good at it, but I'd never had the opportunity to practice with one of this size. I had to stretch my mouth quite a bit to avoid scraping him with my teeth, and knew I'd never get much past the head in without gagging. Instead I concentrated on the head, swirling my tongue and sucking softly, using my hand to gently stroke the shaft. I felt his hands settle in my hair, but to my distinct pleasure he did not grab me or try to force himself deeper, he simply stroked my crazy curls and let me do as I wished.

I continued to suck and caress, tilting my head up to make eye contact. It didn't take long before he growled my name and tried to pull away. I held on with hands and suction, and when he came he filled my mouth with semen. Like I said, I'd never been overly fond of the taste in the past, but to my surprise there was no bitter tang like I had been expecting, just a slight salty flavour that was quickly gone. I continued to gently suck and milk his shaft until he was completely finished, and he shuddered and collapsed onto the bed beside me. His hands were shaking as he reached out to pull me into an embrace, awkwardly sitting beside each other on the edge of the bed. His breathing slowed, and he sighed.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to." I think the answer surprised him.

"I told you we were doing this my way."

"You didn't think I was just going to quietly go along with that, did you?"

He grimaced, before responding. "I suppose I should have known better."

"Yup."

"Alright, look. Now that you've had your fun..."

"Are you saying you didn't find it fun?"

"That's not what I..."

"Perhaps I need to try it again to improve my technique?"

"No! That's not...I didn't...stop laughing at me!"

"I'm not laughing. Not one giggle or guffaw from over here."

"I see that look on your face. Just you wait. I'll wipe that smug smile off of there yet. Vengeance will be mine."

"That's what I'm hoping for!"

With a laugh of his own, he leaned in to kiss me. I turned my head, telling him I needed to brush my teeth or at least gargle first. He firmly placed one hand on each side of my face, and heedless of my concern about semen breath, proceeded to thoroughly addle my brain. The kiss was intense, and I didn't even notice when he started slowly unbuttoning the rest of my very rumpled blouse. He slipped it off of my shoulders, and I tossed it carelessly off the bed. His hands on my skin felt like they were setting me on fire, and burning trails followed his finger tips down my neck and shoulders, across my abdomen, and up my back. He struggled momentarily with my bra, and then gave a breathless, embarrassed laugh when I unclipped it at the front. It joined my shirt on the floor, and he pressed me back onto the bed, halting the kiss long enough to look me over, lust evident on his handsome face. He began stroking me with his free hand, starting at my cheek, and then down my neck, my shoulders, over the centre of my chest down to my stomach, avoiding my aching breasts, and I hissed.

"Patience. Vengeance, remember?"

The surgeon who'd done my breast reduction had been excellent. Still, there were scars visible. They'd warned me that nerve damage could happen, and that my nipples might become numb or tender; they hadn't mentioned that they could just as easily become hyper-sensitive. Just the slightest brush of his fingers against the sides or bottoms of my breasts left me gasping, and when he noticed he began lightly tracing his fingers over the faint scars, making me tremble.

I almost had an orgasm on the spot when his lips finally closed over one hard nub and his hand squeezed the other breast. I bucked underneath him and he held on, sucking and caressing, as I squirmed. Desperate, I reached up and starting undoing my pants; he swatted my hands away and teased me for a few more minutes while I gasped and groaned. Finally he finished what I started and helped me slide out of the pants. I was wearing sexy, black lace panties, and he stroked his fingers over them appreciatively before urging me to lift my butt so he could remove them as well. The aroma of female arousal was obvious, and I blushed; Steven just smiled.

Being a pasty blonde, my pubic hair had always been sparse and light, so I kept it closely cropped just above my slit, and smooth shaven everywhere else. My lower lips were puffy and swollen with arousal, and there had been a noticeable wet spot on the panties when they'd gone sailing off onto the floor.

Repositioning himself, Steven lay alongside me and resumed kissing me while his hands wandered over my stomach, breasts, hips, and over my mound. The kiss quickly deepened, as usual, and soon he was leaning over me, pressing me to the bed again, a repeat of the night before. He shifted to lie squarely on top of me, and I could feel his erection against my thighs; I spread my legs to accommodate his hips, but instead he proceeded to slide down, kissing and teasing along the way, until he was kissing the crease where my leg met my body. Sliding his hands up the backs of my thighs, he encouraged me to spread my legs even further so his face was mere centimetres from my pussy.

My lips spread, glistening with moisture, and he tentatively stuck out his tongue, tickling first one swollen lip and then the other. I dug my hands into the mattress, trying not to squirm without much success. He returned, less hesitantly, to spread my lips with his fingers, and then I felt his tongue slither gently through my cleft, avoiding my clit, igniting a burning deep inside. He returned to my opening and briefly probed there with his tongue, making me groan and grind my hips.

Finally, taking pity on me, he reached around to grab and hold my pelvis and firmly stroked his tongue from my opening all the way up past my clit, over and over, holding me down so I couldn't move. As he heard my cries rise in pitch, he switched to sucking on my clit, lashing it with his tongue, and I finally came to a shattering climax. He kept sucking and licking, but more softly, triggering shuddering aftershocks as I came down from my peak.

Before I relaxed completely, however, he started probing again and I quickly rose back to the point of orgasm. Just then I felt his fingers, and first one, quickly followed by a second, penetrated into my tight tunnel. The pressure felt good, and I bucked my hips. This caused two things to happen; the first was that my clit ground against him, triggering the orgasm I'd been building towards; at the same time, his fingers accidentally dug into the back wall of my canal, hitting the scar tissue there and eliciting a scream of pain.

Body completely overloaded between pleasure and pain, I think I blacked out. At least, I wasn't aware of much for a few moments. When I was able to pay attention to my surroundings again, I was sobbing into Steven's chest and he was lying beside me, holding me and apologizing over and over. I took a deep, shuddering breath to stifle the sobs.

"I'm okay."

"Like hell you are! I hurt you. I am certain you told me you've..."

"I know, Steven. It's okay, and it's not your fault. And not all of that was pain. I was orgasming at the same time. That's definitely an odd experience. I have had sex before, it's just..."

"What happened?"

"It will be easier to explain if you put a finger back in there."

"Sarah..."

"Gently. It won't hurt me if you're gentle. Please?"

With some more urging and me guiding his hand, I soon had one long finger slowly inserted inside me, palm down.

"Feel that?"

"Yeah, what is that? It's like...a pucker, or something."

"Yeah. It's a scar."

"What?"

"Listen. When I was a kid, I was in competitive swimming. I...fell. In the pool."

"You, falling? I'm shocked."

"Zip it, smartass. Yes, I fell. But unfortunately I fell with one leg in the pool, and one leg out. They call it a 'straddle injury'. I...tore, inside. I had to have surgery to repair it. It left me with that pucker."

"My God. How old were you?"

"Ten. At the time, it was a couple weeks off school and some sitz baths; I didn't really know what it meant. But the gynecologist told me I'd likely have 'problems'. With sex."

"But if you've had sex before..."

"Always with some amount of pain. And I've never had a partner as big as you before. I can only assume that will make it worse. This shouldn't have triggered the pain, except I moved the wrong way and it mashed your fingers into that scar."

"There must be some way to deal with that."

"The gynecologist says no. It's not actually the scar that's the problem - the rest of me could stretch enough to overcome that. It's that there's a nerve or something trapped in the scar. Any stretch, and it causes searing pain. More surgery risks damaging the nerve further causing constant pain instead of just with sex."

"So this is why? You were going to dump me because of this?"

"Listen. I know that seems silly, but...I don't want to go through life with a partner I can't have sex with. You don't deserve that either. You turn me on so much I'm surprised you can't see the steam coming out my ears at times. A relationship without sex just would not work. It wouldn't be fair to either of us."

During the entire conversation, Steven's finger was still inside me, gently probing. It was strangely arousing, contrasting strikingly with the depressing subject. It was entirely too surreal, and I couldn't make heads or tails of my feelings.

"Okay, but...surely there's ways. I mean, there's got to be positions where it doesn't put pressure there. Angles that don't hurt. Have you ever actually experimented with it?"

"Well, not exactly, but..."

"Let me guess. You've probably never even told any of your previous partners about this, never given them the chance."

"I did tell one. We just...didn't have sex much. We did other things instead. Listen, I can't concentrate with your finger down there anymore. Could you just..."

"No."

"No?"

"I don't accept this. I refuse to allow you to just end it for something like this."

"It's not your choice entirely, Steven."

"Well, how's this, then. You agreed to allow me to make love to you. I'm not done with that yet."

"But..."

"No buts. And if I can find a way, any way, to do this without pain, I want you to promise you will reconsider."

"I...suppose I did agree to make love to you, but Steven..."

"No. I said no buts.

"Sarah...you say you love me. Is that true?" I nodded.

"Alright, then please. Trust me. Just give me a chance, okay?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but he silenced me with a kiss. It tasted of desperation, but somehow, vaguely of hope too.