Lost in Turbulence

Settled between her thighs, his hand focused on the delicate flesh of her breast, skimming the hardened nipple. He loved the smooth texture, the dense weight, the firm yet soft give of the tissue, and for a moment became distracted with learning every small nuance his fingers could perform upon it. Once, he'd had the pleasure of putting his mouth on the silky skin and his dick throbbed in memory. He wanted to do that now.

It was hard to leave her sweet mouth and stirring kisses, but he managed to lift her shirts over her head. In the firelight, he watched as her creamy skin responded with a million little bumps in the cold. In the dim, it was hard to read just what exactly Gemma's reaction was, but her hips hadn't stopped moving against him, so he took that as all the encouragement he needed.

He began kissing her again, but didn't linger as another craving drove him onward to trail from the corner of her mouth down her jaw. When Finn nuzzled in against the warmth of her neck, he felt her shudder. And then her head turned away to expose more of her neck. He spent time kissing and licking and biting, loving how her hips jerked against him in reaction. He bent like a bow so he could continue down to her chest, paying attention to the lines of her collarbone and the hollow at the base of her throat.

And then he was at a mound of flesh, remarkable for its texture and give at the press of his tongue. He thought he could feel her pulse under his mouth. Finn worked slowly around the globe, biting and suckling until he worked to the peak. He wanted to tease her, to hold off as he stroked and baited. But she began moaning her pleas and it made him hard as rock to know he made her feel that good.

It felt perverse, somehow, the idea of suckling a breast. What did that say about him as a man in relation to his mother? Did it mean he had some sort of infantile needs, some hang-up with his mom, or was it simply a pleasure, regardless of exactly who the partners were. It was a sexual pleasure and therefore fitting for a couple during sex, right? He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing out the distracting thoughts and opened his mouth around the pink peak of her breast.

He wanted to purr like a cat, the texture was so luxurious. Luxurious. Adj: 1. rich and superior in quality. 3.given to pleasure, especially the senses; voluptuous.

Damn SAT vocab.

As he gently sucked, his tongue laved over her tightened skin. Gemma's fingers raked through his hair, her short nails scraping his scalp and causing pulses of prickles down his back, like waves from the sea rolling strong into shore. Somewhere, he had the presence of mind to move to the other breast, though he studied how red and turgid his attention made the first. It was glistening in the dying firelight and his dick throbbed at the sight.

By the time Finn had finished discovering every secret plane and curvilinear slide of her breasts, Gemma's hips were grinding hard and rhythmically against him. He leaned back up to cup her face and kiss her, long and drawn and forever loving. Her hands were around his sides, pulling him into her, her nails digging into the young muscles just beginning to mass up like a man's. Finn could feel each of her whimpers reverberate down to his aching dick. And then her legs tightened around him, her groin pressing frantically into him.

His name was rough and breathless on her lips as she came, tense and dying. He could feel every fiber of her body tremble against him, and his body swelled at the knowledge he had the power to cause such a momentous effect on her. His mind flashed back to the first time he had brought her to orgasm. It had been the second time she had let him put his hands in her pants, and he was determined to not only explore the secret feel of her, but to make her feel as he did in the quiet dark of his room when he thought of her and her small wrists. Her body had been slick, if her a demeanor a little timid, but he studiously caressed the little nub of nerves that he'd not learnt was the clitoris, but that a shitty boyfriend wouldn't know what to do with it.

And he was determined to not be a shitty boyfriend. She had to place her hand over his to guide him at first, but, like with everything else when it came to understanding Gemma, Finn was a gifted learner. As her hips humped into his hand, causing him to feel the delicate bone of her pubis beneath her hot slick flesh, he learned that giving pleasure was a pleasure in and of itself, and that he never felt more like a man than with each of Gemma's reactions becoming greater with each successive encounter.

"I think I can feel how wet you are." He was kissing the side of her neck, relishing just how delicious she was as she floated back down from her orgasm.

"Mmm?"

He smiled at the drowsy euphoria in her voice. Her eyes were closed and she had her bottom lip between her teeth, her tongue occasionally coming out to lick it.

"Of course I'm wet. You've been sucking and licking on me."

He broke into a full smile then. "I don't mean your gorgeous little titties." He kissed each pink tip for effect. "I mean here. " His palm landed securely over her groin, the butt of his hand undoubtedly pressing against her sensitive clit. Her instant moan made her sound as if she were in pain, but Finn just pressed harder and leaned down to kiss her pretty mouth.

"Did you bring any more undies? You'll need to change them."

"Finn." Her voice was a hoarse groan and her hips did a jerking dance away from and back into his hand, only to twitch away once more.

"Should we take them off?" He was teasing her, but it was his only defense against the surging lust her felt himself. The moment had to last. If not forever, at least long enough until it was encoded in their DNA so that when they were old and cold and had no teeth and their wrinkles had wrinkles and they lived in a smelly home somewhere with a bunch of other old dottering fogies and they had to choke on pureed burger and unidentifiable green mush at lunch and the space of time between their children's visits was as wide and deep and black as the chasm between heaven and hell, the brilliance of THIS moment would be enough to keep him warm.

"I'm not going to stop you," she answered, interrupting his swell of panic. The hush of her whisper turned into the flow of sound of their joined sleeping bags and the now gentle murmur of rain on the tent as his hands, shaking with need and excitement and fear of losing her, slipped her out of pants and panties.

"What about you?" she asked as she felt the press of his hard body still clothed.

He held her, breathing in her skin. And he felt her weight as if it was the only weight gravity could hold. She was his and there was nothing to fear. "I don't know, it's awfully cold."

"Finn!" she slapped his shoulder as he laughed. But her devious delicate hand snuck under his shirt, her dainty fingers scraping his warm skin. His laughed morphed into something infinitely less mirthful.

Before Gemma could react, he had reached back to tugged his shirt up over his head. He shifted his weight from one arm to the next to slide it free. With his quick movement came a whooshing of warm air that hit her face, and the scent it carried was his cologne, sweat, and that tickling, niggling smell that was all Finn. As he was turned, tossing the shirt off to the side, Gemma's arms were sliding around his shoulders, lifting her until her face was snuggled up in the crook of his neck. Finn settled back over her, swept quickly away by her display and was back to kissing her in one fluid movement.

But Gemma wasn't so easily sidetracked. Though he kept kissing her, her hands skated down his hard stomach until she found the button to his pants. He gave no resistance as she unfastened it, but when her two tiny hands buried in to grasp his erection, he hissed and then cursed.

"Sheesh! Gemma! Your hands are freezing."

"Then warm 'em up," she said drunk and lustful.

"Not with my dick. Damn, you'll make me shrink."

The challenge to his penis was painful for Finn, but apparently hilarious to her as she laughed, turning her head and not holding back. He lifted his hips, effectively pulling himself free, at least a few inches. But Gemma was tenacious. And limber. Bending her legs, she brought her feet up to his hips, and then snagging each great toe under the band, pulled down like an ape peeling a banana. The entire position was ludicrous and somehow still extraordinarily funny to her as she laughed uncontrollably. That is, until Finn thrust himself down on top of her, his pants about his knees, his cock fully recovered and nestled against her very open pussy.

Her humor died instantly; this was the first time she'd ever felt him against her like that, and for a moment everything flashed strange and erotic at the same time. The newness of the intimate touch faded to leave just inciting pleasure, and though Gemma ached to slide against him, she had enough wherewithal to remember.

She swallowed hard, pushing down the overwhelming sensations. "Um, Finn, are you going to put on a condom?"

He rested on his elbows above her, like some sort of recumbent man-child god captured in stone, complete with the mystery and power of the universe etched upon his face. Gemma had never seen that expression before, and for just a split second, she didn't know who she looked up to in the dark of a tent barely illuminated by a dying fire.

A tiny hand raised in the shadows until she cupped his cheek. He blinked and she felt a connection snap into place as if he was finally seeing her. "Put it on. Or would you like my help?" She squealed in delighted surprise when Finn suddenly attacked her mouth, falling into her. As they kissed enthusiastically, he fumbled with a free hand in the side pocket of his bag for one of the small foil packages. Failing to do it blindly, he growled as he tore himself away from her and quickly ripped one off. His hands shook, Gemma could feel him vibrating, and though she was in barely no better position than he was, she couldn't keep her hands from helping him.

Together they tore it open and removed the little round of rubber.

"This is it?" Her voice was a whisper, as though they were in church and not meant to be talking, to be sharing sordid secrets.

He nodded, his forehead rubbing against hers.

"How does it go on?"

"I watched a couple of YouTube videos."

She giggled quietly. "Really? Were there live models?"

"Of course."

She giggled even more. "And it didn't feel like you were watching gay porn?"

"I wouldn't know, I've never watched gay porn. Anyway, this part is the inside, and it unfurls, see?"

Her humor died away. "Can I?" she asked in a hush.

"Yeah, please." Finn's head felt like a balloon about to drift away from his body, a dizzy uplifting force from the inside. He placed the condom against the head of his shaft and then took her thin hands, now sufficiently warmed. Like so many hand jobs before, Gemma slid her fist down the length of his shaft spreading the condom over him as she went. The thin prophylactic was tight, and she ran her fingertips up and down feeling every contour.

"It's sorta sad," she whispered forlornly.

"Hm?" Finn was half aware of what she was saying, his mind buzzing with the near-orgasmic pull in his dick.

"I'd like to do it, you know, to feel you inside without the rubber."

Finn's head dropped to her shoulder. "Fuck, Gemma, you can't say things like that."

"Why not?"

"'Cause you'll make me come before I ever get inside."

She laughed at that, but softly, with pity and love and mercy. "Well, then, I guess you better hurry up, huh?"

He could only nod against her. He lifted and shifted his hips, her fingers tightening around him to guide him when he was in position. "It just feels so naughty," she murmured. "You know, for you to be touching me with your...penis here."

His laugh was tight at the back of his throat, humor pulled from him reluctantly at that moment. "My penis, Gem? You're not my doctor. Or my physiology teacher. You're my girlfriend, and I'm about to put it in you. Call it what it is. My cock."

Her body gave a rolling spasm, and though she was already flushed from her previous orgasm, her cheeks pinkened that much further in response. Her stomach felt as if it would cramp, but in a good way, and she unbit her bottom lip long enough to speak. "It does feel naughty. Even naughtier that it's your cock you're touching me with."

"It is," he agreed and began placing kisses against her neck. "And you're a naughty girl for letting me."

"I must be. Well," she turned into his wandering mouth so she could kiss him, "I'm your girl, and if you want, I'll be naughty for you. I'll be anything you want as long as I'm yours."

He kissed her deeply, never wanting to stop, to let go. When they pulled back and panted for breath, he whispered, "Ready?" She only nodded, her grip on the end of his dick tightening. He could feel her pulling on him and followed her lead.

At first, his hips attempted to just fall into place, but the angle wasn't quite right and he had to readjust himself and so looked down. Despite the dark, he could make out her hand holding his tip against her entrance. It forced a slightly new angle for his hips to move, but when he felt the crown of his shaft pop into her folds, he knew he was doing it right.

Gemma, on the other hand, was already feeling an uncomfortable pressure, and as he slid deeper into her and the stretch truly began, she had to close her eyes to squeeze out the growing pain. Finn stopped when he felt the change in her, and his back cramped with the restraint.

"Gem?"

She turned her head into his neck, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him in tight against her. "It hurts Finn. Please, don't take so long, just do it, just get it over with."

Finn gave her a penitent kiss to her temple and then surged his hips against her, severing her virginity as he offered her his. A scream of pain ripped from her mouth, her body seemingly going dead from her hips down. She clung to him, though, held tight to his body as hers shrieked out, "Murder!"

She was crying, her tears wetting his neck. Finn shushed her gently, apologizing with his hands and lips. She clung to him, her body trembling from the pain. Finn knew he should feel a little guilt about how much pain she was in, but he couldn't feel anything but the most exquisite pleasure of his young life. And when he felt a surge through his groin he was afraid it would be enough to make him come before anything happened. So for both their sakes, he stayed miraculously still and waited for all to calm.

Gemma fought the impulse to push Finn's body off of her, stopping the pain the forefront need in her mind. But she knew it would get better, it simply had to, otherwise, the human population would have ceased after the first two humans got it on.

Now that was a curious thought. As her body struggled to adjust, her mind swam philosophically. When did the act of intercourse for the first time become painful? Surely other primates didn't experience that amount of pain, otherwise they certainly wouldn't allow it to happen again, right? Or were they simply overpowered by their partner? But no, even that seemed unfair. Somehow, the pain must be punishment, as it were, for choosing to trade in purity for sensual pleasure. A price for losing the state of innocence one was born into.

Gemma groaned at her thoughts. Finn's catholic upbringing must be rubbing off on her. "Are you okay?" he asked, fearing her discomfort was abating. Gemma was pressed up against him until she could hear his hammering heart, and was certain it beat along in time with hers.

"I think so, I mean, I'm still sore, but that first bit of pain is gone."

In hopeful relief, Finn tried his hips, only to be followed by a sharp hiss and paroxysmal jerk from her. "Mm, maybe not," Gemma said quickly, her eyes squeezed shut. When the immediacy of it passed, she let out a hoarse, deflated chuckle. "Sorry," she whispered. The sensation of being trapped raced up on her, shivering up her back and choking her throat. Tears filled her eyes and she turned her head away from him to hide the unreasonable sorrow.

"Gem, babe, what's wrong? Does it hurt that bad? Do we need to stop?"

But her arms simply tightened around him all the more, pulling him so tightly against her their atoms were at risk for bonding. Finn held her in return and allowed her to cry against him. Not what he fantasized their first time would be like.

A fresh downpour of rain swept over their side of the mountaintop, and the sound seemed a relaxing salve to Gemma's frazzled emotions. She sniffled. "M'sorry," she spoke softly.

Finn shushed her. "Nothing to be sorry about. Wanna talk about it?"

A delicate shoulder shrugged uncertainly. "I don't know. It just sucks, you know? That it hurt so bad. It's sort of overwhelming. You want something so badly but your weakness is in the way of getting it."

Finn gave her a gentle kiss. "But you will get it. We're not done. I'll make it good for you."

"You're sweet for saying so, but I don't see how," she replied against his mouth and lazily followed him in an ever-deepening kiss. His thumbs were brushing the wetness from her cheeks.

Gemma wove her fingers into his hair and felt her nipples tighten from the ticklish sensation of those strands flowing between the little v's of her fingers. Finn moved a hand slowly down her torso, grazing over the taut little buds, giving them some attention that had Gemma moving against him. And then his hand trailed farther still until his fingers found the hard, little nub in her folds.

"Are you sore here?" he asked as his thumb rubbed over it softly.

She shook her head. Keeping up his gentle seduction with his mouth, Finn began working her sensitive little button how he knew she liked, giving her a reprieve now and again to build the pleasure slowly. It wasn't many minutes before Gemma began making little moans in the back of her throat, soft and low but growing in strength. Unwittingly, her hips jerked and rolled of their own accord, causing his shaft to begin to move in and out the smallest of distances until suddenly her body clenched down hard against him, spasms rippling around his cock. The amplitude of her hips' movements grew as well as she gave the most erotic of whimpers. He carried her through her orgasm, not relenting in the stimulation that brought her there until she was begging him for mercy.

Without any overt signaling, Finn tentatively began working with Gemma's hips until he was sliding nearly free and then sliding back through her clenching walls. Bliss never reached this height before. So much better than his guilty hand. Even better than her graceful, eager ones. Her body was his home and it didn't take too many newbie fumblings before he was coming harder than he ever had in his young life. He was perhaps a little more vigorous than he intended, but the need to drive into her hard was an urge he couldn't resist. He felt her knees crimp into his sides tightly and he didn't have enough hands to hold her with, to crush her into him in return. Their lips were a mesh of wet, tangling kisses and he could feel wetness still on her cheeks.

They lay together, gentle, sporadic spasms twitching their entangled limbs, a press of groins, a swipe of lips over shoulders. Gemma's eyes fluttered open, unseeing into the black tent. The fire had resolutely gone out and nothing was left to see by. She felt Finn move, heard the long zip of the tent flap door, and then his cool arms returned around her, pulling the joined sleeping bags as they went.

"So that's it, huh?"

Finn gave a burst of laughter. "I hope you're not too disappointed." He felt her find his hand and pat the back of it.