That night he retired to his room a little earlier than usual. There was much on his mind that needed to be processed. He lay in bed for a while, just thinking about her. Reliving the sweet and splendid hours they had spent together.

In his mind he went over what he was going to say to her the next day. He knew they were too young to be making plans but in a few years’ time he would be going off to university. He would study hard and establish a reputation. After he had made something of himself he would marry her. How effortlessly he could envision her in a wedding gown, her hair pinned up elegantly, her blue eyes sparkling with joy. He would buy her a house somewhere, wherever she wanted; a beautiful home they’d share. Children would naturally follow. They would be beautiful and intelligent like their mother. They would excel in a number of instruments and fill the house with music.

How he yearned to be just a few years older so that day could be tomorrow.

Tomorrow! That was when he would make his feelings known to her. He would bring her to their spot, take her hands in his and declare his intentions. After that they would kiss. Their first real kiss. Or perhaps he would kiss her first and then pour his heart out to her. Whatever felt right at the moment.

Will the right moment come tomorrow? He wondered. It was easy enough to imagine leaning forward, taking her face in his hands and kissing her softly, but could he actually go through with it? The thought was certainly pleasant. Much more than pleasant, it was arousing.

He let his hand slip idly down his thigh and over his stiffening cock on the way back up. The feeling was so intense it surprised him. His back arched a little and he closed his eyes, imagining her perfect lips on his, his fingers in her hair as their kiss gradually intensified. Then he thought of slipping his tongue into her sweet mouth and he swelled to full erection. The sensation was so divine it was dizzying. He wanted more.

He rubbed his hardness through his trousers and was rewarded with warm ripples of pleasure which spread from deep inside him. They instantly summoned back the feelings of shame he had experienced in his teens, before he even knew what sex was.

How clearly he recalled that warm spring night, the very first time he had ‘lusted in his heart’. Those words had stuck with him since the first time they were uttered by his priest after he awkwardly confessed what he had done. Though he wasn’t aware of the full extent of his sin, somehow he knew he had done something wrong. It hadn’t been easy to explain, but he sensed that the priest knew exactly what he was trying to say and that made him even more uneasy. The pious man waited for him to finish before he spoke. His voice was calm but his message was blunt and sobering. He informed his young parishioner that he had committed a mortal sin. One so unspeakable that he would not repeat its name. He had allowed his mind to entertain impure thoughts and by obtaining physical pleasure through those thoughts he had abused God’s gift, sinned against his body in the worst possible way. He said that his soul was worthy of hell, but that God would show mercy upon him because he had come forth with a contrite spirit and acknowledged the wrongfulness of his ways.

“Five Our Fathers and ten Hail Marys,” he said in conclusion.

How his heart had raced with fear as he knelt there, not yet a man and already branded a sinner. He had been absolved but the message was burned upon his consciousness. He could not remember much else about that day.

He did not touch himself again, but the harder he tried not to think about her in that way the more relentlessly the thoughts came to him. He prayed to the rosary every night and focused all his energy upon suppressing the wicked images in his mind. Each time he felt tempted he forced himself to recite the prayers instead. His dreams were plagued by thoughts of her over the next year and a half. Eighteen months whose nights were long, joyless eternities for a hormonally driven adolescent.

Finally one night the urge was too strong and rather than ignore it he yielded to it. Intense emotions gripped him as his body surrendered to his hand and he quietly brought himself to climax. And it had felt good. So good in fact that the guilt didn’t affect him like he had expected it would. He did not confess his sin that week, or the week after. His critical attitude toward the Church had led him to question a few of the things he had been taught-- a completely new concept for him. By the third week his mind was made up not to confess it at all. He didn’t care to hear the harsh words his priest would speak, nor did he desire the absolution the man could or could not offer him. It was none of his business.

Besides, as a good Catholic he knew his confession would have been meaningless because the truth was he was not sorry for what he had done. And if he was damning his soul to an eternity of punishment, at least he was doing it for her. For a few precious moments they were together( if only in his mind) and to him that was worth the risk.

His conscience no longer nagged him and he finally realised how pointless it had been to deny himself something so wonderful, so natural, for so long. All the hellish nights he had put himself through, the frustration, countless wet dreams and hours of guilt he could have been spared had he only known.

He lay on his bed now with lust in his heart again, only this time it was without shame. His body was his own, as were his thoughts, and she was his girl. Someday she would be his wife. He had every right to entertain these thoughts about her.

“My wife…” he whispered to himself. How he loved the sound of that. He thought of her as he unbuttoned his trousers, imagining how their first time would be. Their wedding night. Or even before then. Under their tree, perhaps... Yes, he liked the thought of that.

She’d be in her white dress. Looking radiant, like she had looked today.

He recalled a few of the details he had committed to memory hours earlier and they fuelled his imagination. The way her dress hugged her body, the feel of her hand on his, the way her pupils dilated when their eyes met. His hand slipped slowly down the front of his open trousers. Traveled steadily down over the velvety skin of his swollen cock, which throbbed as his heartbeat quickened. 

He would undress before her. Let her have that power over him. Let her see how badly he wanted her.

His hand slid upwards and his cock responded the instant his fingertips came into contact with its now exposed tip. With a sigh he closed his eyes once more. 

He would lay her down on the soft grass; run his tongue along her naked flesh, up her neck, over her jaw and back into her waiting mouth. His kiss would offer her a taste of what was to come. 

He pressed a warm, moist palm to his hard sex and began to rub himself, slowly working his foreskin up and down over his swollen shaft. He arched his back deliberately this time and pushed his trousers down to his thighs. The heat of arousal spread through his muscles at the image of her body and his own being joined. His pulsating loins begged for attention and his hand readily complied. 

He would be gentle with her; would not cause her any pain…

The thought of guiding his cock into her for the first time made him ache with desire. He wrapped his fingers around his erection and held it firmly. It felt hot and solid in his hand. With rapid little breaths he slowly stroked himself and thought of being deep inside her.

Her exquisite warmth would embrace him tightly. His movements would be calm. He would have complete control over himself, and over her.

The idea stimulated him. He had never thought of their relationship in this way before, but it felt good. He was stronger than she was; he was a man now and he could protect her.

He would tenderly show her the art of marital love and she would succumb to him.

Completely engrossed in the thought, he stroked himself in perfect rhythm to his fantasy as he made love to her.

His mouth would find hers as the pace of his thrusts steadily picked up. He would kiss her deeply, in a way she had never been kissed before.

How he savored the image of the two of them locked in a kiss. It had elicited profound feelings in him ever since the magical afternoon they shared the first time their lips timidly met for the first time. That was before he even knew what a real kiss was and what it could mean. He was older now. He had gained considerable experience in this area and others, and this filled him with confidence that he would make a good husband and lover for her.

She would lie there beneath him, moaning softly as he made love to her…

He quickened his strokes, lost in the intense arousal that gripped him as he lay there, guiltlessly taking pleasure in his own body. His quiet breaths became shorter, faster.

The sound of her breathing would fill his ears as he held her body close to his.

His muscles tightened in anticipation. Every fibre of his being craved release.

He would sigh her name. Bury himself deep inside her. They would be one... 

His hand stopped. Shudders of pleasure seized his body as he silently mouthed her name. He could suppress his cries as he came but his breathing was so hard he had to turn and bury his face in the pillow to stifle the sounds.