The pickup truck cruised alongside me as I walked home from the bus stop. Glancing over at the vehicle, I saw the driver push back the visor of his ballcap. His leer was unmistakable.

"Hey, sweetheart, need a ride?" the man called.

I looked straight ahead once more and picked up my pace.

"Come on, don't be like that!" the truck's passenger hollered. "There's plenty of room in here for the three of us."

I swallowed hard, fighting back a rush of panic. It wasn't a long walk to my apartment building, but I worried about the men knowing where I lived. If I continued on past it, would they keep following me?

Not for the first time, I desperately wished I had my own car. It was mid-May of 1990, and I'd recently turned eighteen. I had my driver's license, but money was always tight at home, so buying another car was out of the question. I had no way to make my own money since Mom didn't want me working evenings after school and then walking home alone from the bust stop at night. I planned to get a job as soon as I graduated in a few weeks.

As the men in the pickup grew more insistent, I couldn't help but wonder why they'd chosen to target me.  My strawberry blonde hair was long and fine, resisting all my attempts to style it, and my pale skin was covered in countless freckles. I wore ratty sneakers and thrift store jeans. My blouse, which I'd hoped would be considered vintage and cool, was merely out of style. Just that afternoon, one of the cheerleaders gave me a sweeping glance and then said with a syrupy, sweet grin, "Did you raid your grandma's closet, Libby?"

I figured the men were harassing me simply because I was alone. Though I did my best to ignore them, I could sense their impatience growing.

"Hey," the driver snapped, "stop being such a bitch and at least talk to us."

My pulse felt like a frantic bird thrashing in the confines of my throat. The man's menacing tone catapulted me from anxiety into fear. What if they got out and tried to grab me?

It was then that someone fell into step alongside me. I'd been so focused on looking ahead while keeping the truck in my peripheral vision that I hadn't even heard footsteps approaching from behind. I almost screamed, I was so on edge, but when I looked up and saw Ryan, my knees weakened with relief.

While pointedly ignoring the truck, Ryan gave me a smile. "How are you, Libby? Did you have a good day?"

"Pretty good," I immediately replied.

"You should have waited on me," he said, raising his voice a little so the men in the truck could easily hear him. "You know I like to walk you home from the bus stop."

Of course, that wasn't true. Ryan had moved into an apartment on the third floor of our building a few months ago, and while he'd always greeted me with a friendly hello, he and I didn't really know each other. I remembered when Mom and I introduced ourselves to him, he mentioned he worked for a charitable organization in town, within easy walking distance of our building. Today, he wore a suit, his usual attire on a workday, but he'd taken off the coat and draped it over his arm. As we walked together, I fought the urge to huddle closer to him.

The truck sped off then, its tires squealing. "Fucking whore!" the driver shouted at me before the vehicle made a sharp turn and disappeared from sight.

I came to an abrupt halt. Though my cheeks burned in embarrassment at the man's insult, I turned to Ryan and managed to smile. "I am so glad to see you!"

The truth was, I was always glad to see Ryan. He was tall and strong, with broad shoulders and an olive complexion. I guessed he was in his late twenties. His brown eyes were so warm and expressive that I couldn't help but beam whenever he looked at me. In fact, he seemed to be the only person who really saw me. Mom was so busy working or spending time with her new boyfriend that she was rarely home anymore. My classmates either mocked me or treated me like I was invisible. But Ryan? He was different.

Sometimes, when I grew bored in class, I'd mindlessly write L + R over and over in my notebook, surrounding our initials with a heart. I would have been mortified if Ryan knew, but I had to admit it was fun to harbor a secret crush.

As Ryan now regarded me, his brow creased with concern. "Did those men follow you all the way from the bus stop?"

"Pretty much. They wanted me to get in the truck."

He ran a hand through his wavy, dark hair, his jaw tightening a little. "I'm glad I chose to leave work a bit early today. I figured since I'll be at the office this weekend, I'd try to take care of a few things at home this afternoon. As soon as I saw that truck keeping pace with you, I hurried to catch up."

"Thank you so much, Ryan." I still sounded a little short of breath due to all the adrenaline surging through my body.

"That bag looks a little heavy." Ryan held out his hand. "Let me carry it for you."

My backpack was indeed heavy, but I didn't want to be any trouble. "Oh, you don't have to."

He only flashed one of those dreamy smiles. "It's no problem at all."

I handed over the bag, and he carried it as if it were practically empty. As we continued walking, he and I made small talk, sticking with safe, boring topics like the weather. It didn't take us long to reach our building, and Ryan insisted on walking me to my door. The apartment building had three levels, and Mom and I lived on the second one. A short flight of stairs led to a landing and our apartment. When I took my bag from Ryan, he patiently waited as I retrieved my key from the interior pocket.

"You sure you'll be okay, Libby?" He stood close enough for me to catch the scent of his cologne. And it was nice cologne! Not that cheap stuff some of the boys at school practically bathed in.

"Oh, I'll be fine." I offered what I hoped was an attractive smile, but I feared I just looked like a dork. "Thank you again for helping me."

"I was happy to walk you home. Have a good evening."

"You, too!" I paused long enough to watch him bound up the steps that led to the apartments on the third level. Then I stepped into my apartment, my hand trembling as I locked the door behind me. Despite the fact that I was now safely home, that rush of adrenaline only seemed to grow stronger within me. It was no longer because I was scared, however. No, it was due to being so close to Ryan.

I paced through the rooms, unable to keep still. This might be my only chance to get to know Ryan better, I told myself. I decided I'd make cookies for him as a way of showing my appreciation for his help earlier. It would also give me an excuse to go to his apartment. Before I could lose my nerve, I darted to the kitchen. Once I'd washed my hands at the sink, I got busy. All the while, I grinned like an idiot. Was I really going to do this?

After taking the cookies out of the oven to cool, I hurried to my bedroom, where I examined my reflection in the mirror. I didn't usually wear makeup, and since Mom's complexion wasn't as fair as mine, I couldn't use hers. Besides, I was afraid I'd end up applying it wrong and looking like a clown. The best I could do was put some gloss on my lips. While running a brush through my hair to work out any tangles, I considered my outfit with a grimace. I'd recently bought a nice dress from the thrift shop, barely worn, which I planned to wear to my graduation, but changing into that would be way too obvious. I guessed I was stuck looking like I'd raided my grandmother's closet.

A short time later, I was standing at Ryan's door. When he answered my knock, my stomach roiled with nervousness. He was clearly surprised to see me. I noticed he'd changed into jeans and a T-shirt, and his feet were bare.

Not even bothering with a hello, I thrust the plate of cookies toward him. I was already regretting this. "I made these for you to say thanks!" My voice was too loud, too high-pitched.

"Wow, thank you so much, but you didn't need to do that!" Ryan took the plate from me. "Chocolate chip is my favorite, by the way."

I kept the expectant smile fixed on my face, but instead of inviting me in, Ryan glanced over my shoulder as if he expected someone to suddenly appear on the landing and spot me outside his door. My smile faded, and my heart plummeted into my stomach at a nauseating speed. I was such an idiot! Of course, this man wouldn't feel comfortable asking me to come inside. He barely knew me.

"I should go!" I blurted out. "I didn't mean to bother you. I just wanted to say thanks." Taking a step backward, I practically tripped over my own feet. It was all I could do to stop myself from bolting.

"Hey, you don't need to hurry off." Even as he spoke, the indecision he felt made itself plain in his eyes. "Do you want to come in?"

I swallowed hard, not trusting myself to speak for a second. "Sure!" I finally managed to squeak out. My God, what was wrong with me?

Ryan opened the door wider, and I stepped inside his living room. Though his apartment had the same layout as my own, I thought his place looked a lot nicer. His furniture was tasteful, not at all shabby like ours. Everything followed the same subdued color scheme, while our décor was wildly mismatched. I made a mental note never to invite Ryan to my apartment.

"Make yourself at home," he said. "Would you like a drink? I've got tea, soda..."

"Tea would be great, thanks." As I sat down on Ryan's couch, he placed the cookies on the coffee table before me. Once he'd disappeared into the kitchen, I took several deep breaths to steady my nerves. I had to rest a calming hand on my knee to keep it from anxiously bouncing up and down. I noticed the sliding door leading to Ryan's balcony was open, and again I felt like I was being a nuisance, disturbing him at home like this. He'd probably been sitting outside, enjoying the spring day, and I doubted he wanted to be interrupted.

When Ryan returned to the living room, he offered the glass to me, then sat down on the couch. He was careful to keep an entire cushion's space between us. As I sipped my tea, he reached for a cookie on the plate. I watched him take the first bite.

"Mmm, these are delicious, Libby!"

I couldn't help but grin. "I'm really glad you like them."

Focusing his full attention on me once more, he said, "So, you're about to graduate from high school, right?"

I was thrilled he remembered I was a senior. "Yep, and I recently turned eighteen, too," I made a point to tell him.

Ryan gave me one of those warm smiles I loved. "You must be excited."

"Well, I don't think it's really sunk in yet." I grew brave enough to turn on the couch so I was facing him. "I still feel the same as before, but I guess that'll change once I finish school and start working."

His brow furrowed. "You're not going to college?"

I looked down at the glass I held, avoiding his gaze. "We can't afford it."

"How about community college?" Ryan suggested. "You could take classes part-time while you're working. There are a lot of two-year programs you might be interested in." He turned toward me as well, mirroring my body's position. "I think a career in healthcare would be perfect for you."

I met his eyes again. "Really? Why?"

"You seem like a very kind and caring person." Ryan's stare dropped from my eyes to my lips.

I felt myself blushing at his compliment, but before I could thank him, there was a knock on the door. He gave me a confused look, seeming as clueless about the visitor as I was. "You're really popular today!" I said.

"Apparently so." With a grin lingering on his lips, Ryan climbed to his feet and strode toward the door.

As soon as he opened it, a man about Ryan's age stepped into the apartment. It was obvious they knew each other well. The man was dressed a bit more casually than Ryan had been a little earlier, but it was clear he'd just left work. "Hey, Ryan," he began, "I was hoping to borrow that..." His voice trailed off when he spotted me.

Ryan cleared his throat. "Bruce, this is my neighbor, Libby. Libby, this is my friend, Bruce."

Still holding my glass, I stood and offered Bruce my hand. "It's very nice to meet you."

His smile was pinched. "Nice to meet you, Libby."

I knew I should go; this guy was making it obvious he didn't want me around. But I hated to leave just when Ryan was growing more comfortable with me. "Uh, do you mind if I use your bathroom?" I asked Ryan. Maybe Bruce would be gone by the time I came back out.

"Sure," Ryan said. I could tell he was uneasy about Bruce finding me in his apartment, but he still managed to flash a playful grin. "You know where it is."

I grinned back, then hurried out of the room. It was then that I realized I was still carrying my glass of tea, so I made a brief detour into the kitchen and set it on the counter. Once I was in the bathroom with the door shut, I tried to be as quiet as possible, even holding my breath in order to eavesdrop on the conversation between Ryan and Bruce.

They kept their voices low, but I still heard Bruce hiss, "What the hell are you doing?"

Ryan sounded chagrined when he replied. "She just stopped by to thank me for helping her out today." 

"How does she know where your bathroom is?"

"Because her apartment has the same layout as mine, dumbass!"

I cupped a hand over my mouth to muffle a giggle at Ryan's retort, but my laughter faded as their heated discussion continued. I heard Ryan close the balcony door and draw the vertical blinds.

"How old is that girl, anyway?" Bruce demanded.

"She's eighteen."

"Since when? Yesterday?" Bruce's voice rose with each word he spoke.

"I told you," Ryan said, "she just stopped by for a minute."

"Uh-uh. That girl acts like she's madly in love with you. And I've seen that look on your face before, Ryan. You've got a thing for her, too."

My eyes widened as a warmth spread within me, flushing my cheeks and traveling downward to settle between my thighs. Bruce had to be wrong, I told myself. There was no way Ryan was interested in me. Yet my heart had started a furious beating in my chest.

"Keep your voice down," Ryan growled.

When Bruce spoke again, he was quieter, but I could still make out what he said. "You broke up with a woman like Jackie so you could play around with an eighteen-year-old? Are you out of your damn mind?"

I had no idea who Jackie was, but I already didn't like her.

"Bruce," Ryan said his friend's name like a warning. "When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it. Is that clear?"

Before Bruce responded, I flushed the toilet and turned on the sink faucet as if to wash my hands. The rush of water drowned out Bruce's voice, so I never heard his reply. When I stepped out of the bathroom, I found that he'd left. Ryan stood in the living room, his hands on his hips. Our eyes met, and though he offered me a smile, it didn't reach his eyes.

"I should go," I said. Without warning, a knot of tears formed in my throat. This was a horrible idea, coming to Ryan's apartment. He'd probably go out of his way to avoid me from now on. "I don't want to cause any trouble for you." Keeping my head down, I rushed past him toward the door.

"Libby, wait."

I froze at the sound of Ryan's voice. Then, I forced myself to face him. Would he tell me it wouldn't be appropriate for us to talk anymore? Would he simply become one of many who treated me like I was invisible?

"I don't want you to go," he said as if making a confession. "I've enjoyed getting to know you better today."

As awkward and uncool as I was, I had no chance of hiding my delighted grin. I couldn't believe I was actually hearing Ryan say he liked spending time with me! But I remembered how upset he'd looked just moments before, when Bruce left. My face grew somber; I could feel my lips twisting into a frown. "Your friend's right, though," I said quietly. "I do have feelings for you."

Ryan's gaze softened. "Ah, Libby," he sighed.

Was this when he decided to let me down easy? I didn't want to give him the chance. "But I would never make trouble for you, Ryan. Ever. You can trust me."

He closed his eyes a moment and shook his head. "Christ, you heard every word that came out of Bruce's big mouth, didn't you? Libby, I'm sorry."

"It's fine." That lump of tears in my throat seemed to grow by the second, until I could hardly swallow past it. Again, I started to leave, but Ryan closed the distance between us in just a couple of long strides. My mouth dropped open when he placed himself between me and the door.

"Stay," he whispered. His eyes were pleading. "I mean, if you want to."

A shy smile played on my lips. "I want to."

Ryan reached for me then, but I tensed beneath his hands. He immediately sensed my nervousness. "What's wrong?"

I stared at his chest while struggling to form a reply. With my usual lack of poise, I finally blurted, "I've never even kissed anyone." I figured that would make him balk; he'd be sure to change his mind about getting involved with someone so inexperienced.

Instead, he placed a finger under my chin and tilted my head upward so our eyes locked. "There's a first time for everything."

I gazed at his lips, aching to feel them on mine. "And I want you to be my first," I whispered. "For everything."

As Ryan grasped the meaning of my words, his stare took on a heat that astonished me. It was incredible, witnessing the transformation in him. He cupped my face in his hands. "I know I can trust you, Libby, but I need to know if you trust me."

"Of course I trust you!" I gave him a puzzled smile. At the time, I didn't understand why he felt the need to ask me that. It was only later, in his bed, that I realized how important it was to trust the man I'd chosen to take my virginity.

Ryan smiled, clearly pleased with my response. Then he lowered his mouth to mine. Being absolutely clueless as to what to do, I simply froze. Yet he was patient. His lips, so warm and soft, coaxed mine to respond. As soon as I did, our kiss deepened. His hands and lips sent continual pulsations of arousal through my body until the crotch of my panties was soaking wet. While I might have been anxious about being so inexperienced, my body was giving every signal it was ready for this.

When Ryan's tongue touched mine, he released a pleasured moan. That sound made me tremble with need, and I couldn't stop myself from sliding a hand between his thighs.

He broke the kiss, breathing hard. "Libby!"

"I'm sorry!" I quickly withdrew my hand.

Ryan's smile was reassuring. "There's no need to be sorry, baby. You just surprised me, that's all." He sought out my mouth for another kiss, then whispered, "Do you want to see how excited I am for you?"

"Yes," I instantly replied, nodding for extra emphasis.

Ryan lifted me into his arms and carried me to his bedroom. It was surreal, almost dreamlike, to experience my hidden fantasies become reality. Once he set me down near his bed, he went to close the blinds. I was so naïve that I made no attempt to act seductive while undressing. I was simply eager to strip as quickly as possible so Ryan and I could continue what we'd started in the living room.

He turned from the window, growing very still as he watched me remove my blouse and bra. The moment my breasts were exposed to his view, he drew in a deep breath. Though I'd always wished I had bigger breasts, the sight of them made Ryan stroke himself through his jeans. Knowing I excited him made my own arousal skyrocket. An ache, almost painful, started deep within me.

"What a beautiful girl you are," he murmured.

I ducked my head and smiled, suddenly shy. I never thought anyone, much less a man like Ryan, would think I was beautiful. As I hurried to take off my sneakers and socks, and then my jeans, Ryan pulled his T-shirt over his head. Studying his bare chest, I saw it was covered with dark hair. My fingers twitched with the desire to graze his skin.

By the time I'd stripped down to my panties, Ryan was completely naked. Looking up once more, my eyes widened at the first glimpse of his erection. I had no idea what was considered an average size for a penis, but Ryan's looked plenty large. "Wow," I breathed. His seemed to have a will of its own, swaying a little as it strained toward me. From where I stood, I could see the veins lining his shaft.

Now, it was Ryan's turn to smile. He sank onto the edge of his bed, then held out a hand to me. Still in my underwear, I moved into his embrace. As I stood between his spread legs, he slid his arms around my waist, drawing me closer. Then he brushed his lips against my right nipple. It was like he was teasing me, making me wait for more. He gave my left nipple the same attention just before latching onto my breast with a fervent hunger. The sensation of his mouth suckling my skin made me cry out.

When he slipped a hand between my thighs, I tensed up again. I was embarrassed by the state of my panties, which were now saturated. "Is it bad that I'm so wet?" I asked, the words tumbling out of me in a rush. "I mean, does it turn you off?"

Ryan allowed my nipple to escape his lips. When he looked up, his smile was tender. "Not at all, Libby. It's a good thing. It will make sex more comfortable for you." He rubbed me through my panties until I began whimpering. "I want to taste you."

His words sent such a fierce jolt of lust to my core that I almost swooned. I'd imagined Ryan kissing me, and I'd imagined him moving inside me. But I'd never dared to fantasize about what he now wanted to do! When he stood to draw back the bedcovers, I scrambled out of my panties. My mouth had grown dry with a nervous anticipation, and I was shaking a little.

Ryan took my hand and pulled me close. "Are you cold?" he whispered.

I smiled and shook my head. Once we were together in his bed, I lay back against the pillow. Ryan eased my legs apart so he could kneel between them. Then he leaned forward and kissed my mouth. His lips traveled downward, along my neck and between my breasts, taking side trips to visit my nipples. A delicious tension tightened my muscles as he moved even lower. I began breathing so fast that my palms tingled, and I realized I was close to hyperventilating. Once again, I made a concerted effort to calm down.

Ryan settled between my thighs. For a few moments, he simply nuzzled me, inhaling my scent. His nose was nestled in my pubic hair. I tried to hide my growing worry, for I feared I'd have to fake an orgasm. At school, my health teacher had shown us how to use a condom with a banana as her prop, but there was never any discussion about the clitoris. I'd read enough to know that stimulating it often resulted in an orgasm, and I'd even studied illustrations in an anatomy book, trying to pinpoint its exact location. While masturbating in my bed at night, I rubbed that general area, yet I never felt more than a vague sensation of pleasure.

From the way orgasms were described in the romance novels I secretly read, I knew I'd never given myself one. I was anxious that something was wrong with me. What if my clitoris simply didn't work? Would I go my entire life without an orgasm?

When Ryan spread my outer lips with gentle fingers, I felt his warm breath against my inner folds. Then he gave me a long, slow lick with his flattened tongue. We both moaned, and I found myself eagerly watching him. He took his time, seeming determined to explore every inch of my slick flesh. A lustful shudder coursed through me as he teased my entrance with the tip of his tongue. Finally, he eased my mound upward a little, his stare riveted to my most intimate place. His fingers homed in on that area I'd so often tried to stimulate.

And the man found my clitoris! Instantly! My eyes widened in astonishment, for I felt that bud immediately respond to his touch. I gasped, the sound clearly audible in the quiet room.

Ryan's fingers stilled. "Is that okay?" he asked, his eyes meeting mine.

"It feels really good! Please don't stop!"

He grinned before sweeping his tongue over my clit. "And how does that feel?"

My eyes actually rolled from how amazing it felt! "Oh, my God! Keep doing that!"

Ryan quickly obeyed. He started out with slow, teasing circles, heightening my yearning until my hips rolled. I couldn't resist placing a hand on his head. My touch wasn't at all rough, but he got the message, for his tongue exerted more pressure against my clit, moving ever faster. When he slipped a finger inside me, my muscles instantly clenched around him. I felt a rush of relief that his finger didn't cause me any discomfort.

Then he added another, and I whimpered at the twinge of pain. Anxiety returned, dampening my excitement. If two of his fingers hurt, how would we manage to have sex? I figured Ryan sensed me tense up, as he was always attuned to my responses, but he kept his fingers inside me while licking my clit. I was grateful he didn't thrust them in and out, instead allowing me to get used to being stretched wider.

Ryan's tongue was tireless. When he dared to suck my clit, I started quaking. The sensation almost became too much to bear as the pleasurable warmth in my core intensified. Even while my back arched, my legs felt rubbery, and I doubted they'd be able to keep me upright if I tried to stand. Guttural cries escaped my lips; they sounded strange to my ears, for I'd never made them before.

My eyes locked with Ryan's, and I found him keenly watching me, eager to witness my orgasm. I tried to push past the feeling of being poised on a cliff's edge. It took effort to simply surrender.

And then I let go. Cupping a hand over my mouth to muffle a scream, I sank my teeth into the fleshy part of my palm. I'd read that an orgasm felt like a wave, and I now knew that to be true. It was as if an ocean of bliss lapped at my insides, the tide ebbing only to surge forward again. I spasmed and writhed, my body beyond my mind's control. Ryan held me fast as his tongue summoned forth even more contractions.

When he finally lifted his head, I'd returned to my senses enough to notice his satisfied grin. "You were gripping my fingers so hard!" He was careful easing them out of me. "Watching you come was one of the sexiest things I've ever seen, Libby."

I returned his grin while waiting for my breathing to slow. "Oh, my God, that was amazing!"

"I'm glad I was able to please you so much." Ryan sat up, and I noticed his erection had weakened a bit. His expression grew serious as he said, "I don't want you to feel pressured to do anything else. We can stop."

"I don't want to stop! I want you to make love to me."

My words made him release a moan, and he began stroking his cock. I intently watched him masturbate; I wanted to know how he enjoyed being touched so I'd be good at giving him pleasure. I was especially interested in the way he handled his balls. He cupped them gently in his palm while his other hand moved up and down his shaft.

By the time my breathing had returned to normal, Ryan was fully hard again. As he leaned to retrieve a condom from the bedside table drawer, my gaze drifted past him to the window. The day was fading outside, but there was still enough light in the room for us to clearly see each other. The arousal in Ryan's eyes was undeniable. We didn't speak as he put on the condom, but when our eyes met again, he caressed my thigh and asked if I was sure.

My firm nod encouraged him to ease on top of me. As we shared a lingering kiss, I was aware of how hard his erection felt. Fighting back a fresh surge of anxiety, I willed myself to relax. Of course, I'd heard and read that the first time was usually painful, but I told myself it couldn't hurt too much, or no one would be brave enough to do it a second time.

Again, Ryan kissed me, and I fervently kissed him back, making clear just how much I wanted him. I was a little embarrassed to taste myself on his lips and tongue, but I figured he must not have minded, since he'd spent so much time going down on me.

Then he reached between us to take hold of his cock and slide the tip from my clit to my opening. As I placed my hands on his back, he looked down, positioning himself at my entrance. When he began easing inside, I hissed from the pain. Ryan froze, appearing stricken at having hurt me.

"I'm sorry, Libby," he murmured. "Do you want me to stop?"

Tears sprang into my eyes, and I hurried to blink them away. Still, I shook my head. I knew no one else would be as patient and tender as Ryan, and I also worried if I stopped now, I'd never have the nerve to try again. "Keep going."

"We'll stay like this while you try to relax."

Knowing Ryan wasn't going to ram himself inside me made the tension slowly seep from my muscles. I didn't know how far he'd entered me, but I was pretty sure we had a long way to go. It took a minute, but the pain lessened to the point where I nodded for him to continue. My fingertips dug into his back as he moved deeper. It was agony at first; I felt like I was in danger of being split apart. How could it hurt so much when I'd been so excited?

Staring up at Ryan, I asked in a quaking voice, "Am I too tight? I mean, is this uncomfortable for you, too?"

He closed his eyes and drew in a shuddering breath. "Oh no, baby. You feel really, really good!"

I realized he was trembling beneath my hands. "I'm ready for more now," I told him. We couldn't stay like this forever, I knew. While Ryan's patience seemed endless, I understood we needed to see this through or stop altogether. When he began moving inside me again, it was at a painstakingly slow pace. I gritted my teeth against the blinding pain.

Finally, he grew still again, and a relieved smile appeared on his lips. "I'm all the way inside now, Libby."

I'd broken into a sweat, and my face felt feverishly hot. Yet I released a grateful sigh, offering my own smile. I'd done it. I was no longer a virgin!

Ryan started gently thrusting, watching me closely, and I fought back a wince. I could smell my sweat and his, along with a trace of his cologne. And beyond that, the primal scent of sex. Gazing up at Ryan, I saw his features grow taut; he seemed almost pained. Yet his hips moved faster, and I knew he was desperate for his own release. His breathing quickened, but his thrusts remained shallow as he made every attempt not to hurt me.

"Rub your clit, Libby!" he urged.

I did as he said, moaning at how sensitive I still was. Ryan finally dared to drive himself all the way inside me, and my moans grew louder. I focused on the pleasure my clit offered until the pain of my first time faded into the background. A wail escaped my lips when the tender bud of flesh beneath my fingers made me orgasm yet again. It wasn't nearly as fierce as the one Ryan had given me, but it was strong enough to send another wave of spasms through my body.

As soon as I came, Ryan succumbed to his own orgasm. He let out a labored groan, his muscles growing rigid. "Libby, oh fuck!" He sounded so helpless then, and I stared up at him in astonishment. Seeing the fierce pleasure overtaking him made my muscles clench around his cock.

Finally, Ryan slumped against me. I held him a few moments before he moved to carefully pull out. When the head of his cock slipped free of my body, I couldn't suppress a whimper. Yet Ryan soothed the pain by lowering his lips to mine. Our kiss was brief since we were both still breathing hard. Pressing a hand against my cheek, he smiled and whispered, "Thank you for choosing me to be your first."