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weirdworldofwinnie · 6 months

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A Safe Way Out

Jonathan Breech x Female Reader (NSFW 18+ only)

Summary: You're a very shy patient at the psychiatric hospital and the newest inpatient part of the therapy group has to be the cutest man you've ever seen, and he takes an interest in you, but he's not quite as innocent as he looks.

Word Count: ~3,384

Warnings: Smut (unprotected sex), loss of virginity/innocent reader, cum squirting, oral (fem receiving), mental illness, past trauma, talk of depression and suicide, some angst, language

Disclaimer: This just fantasy/fiction, I do not own anything from the 2001 Irish film On the Edge starring Cillian Murphy.

Breech, Jonathan.

He was surely the prettiest person you'd ever witnessed admitted to this institution that he could make both men and even women jealous, even though his pajamas were ill-fittingly too short and he had a cocky attitude that didn't go unnoticed by the staff and other patients, but he wasn't a total asshole... at least you hoped.

At the couple of group therapy sessions he attended he was rebellious, giving the always tired (but very patient) Dr. Figure grief through ample sarcasm that made you stifle smirks, but as usual you never spoke much, being selectively mute unless you were forced to answer a question from Dr. Figure. They didn't give any drugs to dope up; the doctor didn't think you nor the small group you were part of needed them, but sometimes you wished they would so you didn't have to participate in these stupid sessions that went in half-spun circles and could just conk out in your room or outside.

You had been submitted here by your estranged parents after a series of concerning events that you had tried to mentally block out, including attempting to take your own life because of bullying and abuse; you were not able to ever acclimate fully to society because of it, which led you to being stuck in this place, mentally spinning wheels while growing more and more wary of the outside world everyday. Jonathan was the opposite; he had a spark of defiance and a fire you didn't have enough oxygen for to nourish for yourself. He clearly didn't think he really belonged here and in a way, you sort of admired him even if he was a bit strange and potentially dangerous... He was certainly an exciting refresher in such a dull, day-to-day drudgery.

One day after walking out of yet another mildly frustrating therapy session, he stepped in front of you in the hall as you were making your way back to your room alone, a curious light in his stunningly blue excuses for eyeballs.

"Hey, you mind if I join ya in your room?" he asked suddenly and you froze, uncertain of how to react. You only ever minimally interacted one-on-one with people you trusted... Fellow patient Nick kept saying Jonathan wasn't to be trusted, but Nick was also kind of a paranoid weirdo that always was listening to his headphones, so what did he know?

Jonathan seemed to sense your hesitation and he grinned, trying to put you at ease or maybe he was just messing with you. Either way, you had to hide your intrigue in case he was pulling your leg.

"Don't look spooked out, I'm just so fucking bored at this place and you're pretty cute, but you never really talk... I just wanna get to know ya better," he explained sincerely, but you still felt wary.

"Can I see your room at least?" he asked innocently and you finally gave him a shy nod, causing him to smile in broad relief that reminded you of the last rays of sunlight splashing upon the cliffs.

He walked along beside you, swinging his arms back and forth a bit as if he was winding himself up, all the way to your room and past an orderly who gave him a suspicious glance, but you gave the man a thumbs up to let him know it was fine. Security here was surprisingly not as strict as one would imagine for a psychiatric hospital and the younger patients tended to sneak out once a week to the city with minimal repercussions. They always came back anyway.

You reached your designated room and opened the door slowly, and Jonathan strolled in after you, sighing loudly.

"Oh, would'ja look at that - they gave you the fanciest room they've got," he commented sarcastically as you sat down on the small bed, tucking your knees up to your chest and he stood, surveying you and scene for a second and then joining to sit, copying your posture. He fiddled with his slippers for a minute and then turned to you curiously.

"So lemme get this right: You only talk when or if you have ta?"

"Yeah," you mumbled and he nodded sagely.

"That's an interesting way to deal with people. Don't blame ya, lot of wanks out there not worth being spoken to. What's your name - I mean, I know it from the meeting, but can you say it?" he asked, however unlike any doctor, it wasn't clinical or judgmental. He truly seemed interested and so you whispered your first name aloud to the floor.

"It's a nice name. How old are you?" You could hear the smile in his deep voice.

"T-Twenty two," you responded with a slight stutter, too fluttery to be able to meet his gaze.

"Fuck, that's older than me... I'm nineteen, but you know already know that. You ever been anywhere outside of Dublin?"

You looked away, not answering. If you ever had, you'd been too small to remember.

"How long you've been here?" he asked curiously and you splayed your hand, palm up towards him.

"Five weeks or five years?"

"Years," you whispered and he was silent for a few minutes, picking at the hem of his baby blue pajama pants.

"So much for the road to recovery, eh?" he scoffed and you just shrugged.

He put his legs down, feet flat on the floor and crossing his arms tight to his chest, wearing that oversized silly orange patterned sweater of his. He sniffed and bit his lip, glancing up at the bare ceiling as if he would find the answers to existence there.

"Something happened to you, I know. Shit, something happened to us all here. It's okay if you don't wanna or can't talk 'bout it. But I can't figure out if you have the same thoughts me and the others have? You know, what the doc locks us up for... suicidal? Like there's no fucking point to this blip of existence? And they think we're nuts, but we just seein' the truth."

You slowly pulled up your sleeve, exposing the faint scars etched into your left wrist, remnants of cutting attempts to escape life before you had been dumped off in this place indefinitely. You had never tried it since and were now an adult and could seek the means to leave if you truly wanted to, but there was nothing out there in the world for you.

"See this pinky finger?" Jonathan asked suddenly, poking up his baby finger and you nodded, interested.

"I was just trying to get rid of what was left of me old Da and the damn car didn't do the job right. Could've broken neck but all I broke was me baby finger. Least you've got the scars there to prove survivin'." He sighed heavily, almost disappointed, and you spoke the first sentence you had in days, your voice hushed from disuse.

"Why do ya wanna die?"

He blinked, giving you a meaningful glance and his full lips stretched into a tight ironic smile.

"I don't want to die; I don't want to be alive. I'm just a fucking living ghost, we all are... Doesn't that realization scare the wits outta ya?"

He looked away at the wall, blinking as the drippy tears escaped and his mouth quivered in quiet anguish, his dewy face scrunching up. You reached over and touched his cheek, catching a tear rolling down his smooth pallid skin and wiping it off tenderly. He sniffled, embarrassed, and gently took your wrist and whispered emphatically.

"I like you, Y/N. You don't freak out or talk down to me or bitch about your own problems. You're unique, but I'm thinking ya too cute to be truly crazy."

"Cute?" you repeated and he grinned at hearing your high breathy voice.

"Don't be so afraid to talk, you got a pretty voice. Bet nobody be calling ya cute in a long time, right?"

You shrugged sheepishly and he tilted your chin up with his fingers, tracing the outline of your face fondly and you blushed, not used to being touched by anyone like that. It was... comforting, a feeling you had been very numb to for some time. His pinkish lips parted and he tilted his head slightly, mouth gaping in anticipation for a kiss but you froze, unsure and not wanting to take the lead.

"I want a kiss," he murmured and the way he said it made you draw closer, trusting the process. He closed his eyes and blindly groped your lips, sucking, and then his tongue dove in with a surprising force, swirling around your mouth and he gripped the sides of your head in a vice, cutting off any resistance... Not that you were repulsed in any way once the initial shock wore off.

He broke away after several seconds, gasping and licking his lips hungrily.

"Mm, didja like that?"

Your cheeks became pink and he glanced over your head at the windowpanes being pattered with a steady rain and it was growing dimmer outside, evening approaching with a cloaking storm, and it reflected in the dull colors of the room that was becoming muted of natural light.

"Can I show you something?" he asked huskily, shifting on the bed restlessly.

You ducked your chin in affirmative, heart fluttering in uncertainty as he reached to yank his sweater and pajama shirt over his head, leaving him with a bare chest. You stared, fascinated in his anatomy; it had been so long since you'd seen anyone without some clothing on. He grinned, pointing awkwardly to your own chest.

"So, uh, now this... this'll be the part where you remove your garment," he instructed and cautiously, you unbuttoned your pj's and you never wore a bra, so soon he was facing your naked breasts with your nipples hardening from the airy exposure.

"Really cute," he breathed, gently putting a finger to your right nipple and pressing lightly, stroking around the center and then drawing a line to the other breast, doing the same to that one and you shivered, feeling a strange pull in your stomach that was borderline butterflies. He leaned back, bouncing up slightly on the bed and kicking his slippers off to the floor.

"But hold on, there's more to see," he said with a verging mischievous excitement. You'd never seen him look so genuinely joyful and as he tugged down his pj bottoms, you blinked, faced with a protruding bugle in his white underwear.

After a beat, he removed his boxers, springing forth a stiff appendage that you'd never in the flesh on a man, well, in its erect state at least.

"Want to touch it? It doesn't bite," Jonathan joked with a lazy grin and you cautiously extended a hand and put your fingers on the glistening tip. It was definitely moist and firmly solid, and he shuddered through a breath of arousal.

"Wet," you observed and he laughed, scooting closer so his penis was resting in your hands.

"I like it when you touch me there, don't stop," he begged and you felt him up, amused at his reaction.

He twitched in your palms as you ran careful fingers up his fleshy length and to his balls, lightly petting the coarse dark hair nesting around them, and he shivered pleasurably, resisting the urge to already ejaculate.

"Feelin' good?" you asked fondly, seeing his mouth agape and eyes nearly rolling back.

"Too fuckin' good, need to stop before I cum too quick. Wanna enjoy this... Lemme have at that pussy of yours now instead of using me dick, m'kay?"

You could tell it wasn't a question, but you weren't sure what he meant entirely. You eased off his genitalia, cock dripping slightly, and sat back, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Here," Jonathan murmured and his hands went to your waist, teasing down the waistband of your pj's and pushing the pants down your legs, letting you wiggle out and kick them to the floor, along with your slippers. He stared for a full ten seconds at your womanhood, biting his lip and swirling his tongue around his mouth, before he bent down and spread your legs apart. You tried to ask him what was going to happen, but he dove in already, tongue flicking at your delicate folds with attempted precision. You gasped audibly at the new sensation and he clamped hands down on your thighs, clinging on as he maneuvered his thick tongue faster and you grabbed at a fistful of his hair, shaking from the unfamiliarity and equal anticipation as your body seemed to take control of natural instincts and budding arousal grew stronger.

He just wanted to warm you up though, and he withdrew his tongue soon, lips glistening with a tiny smear of discharge. Your bare chest rose and fell in rhythm as he surveyed the fresh terrain, just aching for more. You very well might be a complete virgin and that prospect tantalized him yet also privately frightened him of messing up. Of course he'd been with girls before, but they weren't this sheltered and sweet. He may corrupt you and alter the course of this extremely new friendship, which in his mind was always meant to become more of a relationship; the moment he saw you he knew he needed to get in your pants.

"Eh, give it a go," Jonathan told himself forcibly and his finger jerked onto your entrance, worming in needily and making you squeak in surprise. He shushed you, zipping his lips with his free hand, giving you a clear message that it wasn't wise to make unusual noises. Even though it wasn't like there was cameras in the rooms, one couldn't be too careful. If Dr. Figure found out his newest unstable patient, the same one that pledged not to kill himself before New Year's Eve, was somewhat taking advantage of a virgin he just met in her own room, the doc would be most displeased.

Nevertheless, whimpers escaped from your throat as he pressed further to your clit and moved another finger to join the first, uncomfortably stretching into your walls. Despite the stinging pain, you felt an decent amount of wetness pooling from your vagina, almost like peeing, and clenched reflexively, hitting his knuckles.

"Oh, I'm thinking it's ready," he whispered impatiently, wriggling his digits away with a squelch and wiping your light drizzle of cum on his cock.

Before you could react, he adjusted position and slid on top of you, pressing his body down onto your bare one and rubbing his full cock in-between your thighs.

You gasped when he began to shove in rather roughly, squirming into your tight unbroken hole and you looked up at his face, watching his hair askew slightly and you noticed a scar above his eyebrow you hadn't noticed before. You wrapped your arms around his neck, afraid to get pinned underneath him, and tried to buck and roll with the motion, but it was getting painful.

"Hurts," you whimpered into his ear as he thrusted further.

"Not gonna hurt in a minute, baby," he whispered, too in heat to stop and consider much else and he clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle any more alarming noises.

"C-Can't go-go all the way in," he panted, his skin slapping yours and rocking the whole small bed.

Sure enough, the pain became more bearable though the more he worked you and pleasure eventually overturned it altogether, the bursting bloom of an orgasm that was very likely the best feeling that had ever happened to you. You sank your mouth on his shoulder to stifle a cry, careful to not bite too deeply, and then mewled into his neck, panting heavily along with him and digging your fingers into his brown scrubby sideburns and floppy hair.

"Mm, fuc-fucking good, ya likin' it, eh?" Jonathan choked out in a whisper and you couldn't respond, too taken by this incredible euphoria and the way his cock flexed inside close at your cervix. You weren't sure how long he could stay in without it becoming too uncomfortable, but he lifted up slightly, grunting softly at his own arousal and effort.

He pulled out just in time, finishing outside by squirting hot ropes of milky cum all over your vagina, stomach, and legs. The bedsheets took a few splatters as well and he heaved in relief as you laid there, utterly stunned at his sexual performance. You had squirted a little bit too and it had intermixed with his juices that you couldn't tell which was from whom. It was so intimate and gross and a big part of you absolutely loved it, having never been in such a situation before... It was exciting and playful.

He swiped two fingers through the fluids and spread it on your thighs further, encouraging you to feel it as well and you giggled at him taking your own fingers and guiding them up to his face, dotting his chin with cum.

Jonathan then sat back on his haunches and admired you, catching his breath and listening to the steady patter of rain. You rolled over onto your side and your eyes widened at a couple spots of blood on the sheets and he looked down in causal observance.

"Ah, that'd be normal, don't worry," he assured with a chuckle.

"Though, uh, maybe we'd better try to hide it case they come collect the sheets tomorrow," he realized on second thought.

"I say I been bleeding, on my cycle," you offered as an explanation.

"Yeah, that'd be good cover," he agreed and climbed off, picking up his clothing and shimmying back into the pajamas and sweater.

"Look, I'll get us some towels or somethin' from the bathroom," he said, walking quietly to the door and opening it with a peering glance out, but the coast was clear. Most patients should be in their rooms by now anyhow.

You relaxed in a post-orgasmic trance while he was gone, listening to the dripping weather outside and wondering how you'd be able to be normal around him tomorrow.

The door squeaked open softly a couple minutes later and Jonathan came back inside with a bundle of torn sheets of toilet paper clutched in his hand.

"Couldn't get towels, so I took some shit paper that'll have ta do instead," he announced with dry amusement and he used it to wipe you clean of the wet mess and you thanked him quietly, grateful to be dry again for it had become rather cold and tingly on your skin. You automatically flinched a fraction when he wiped at your folds, as you were raw and sore, but he was fairly gentle. When he finished, Jonathan moved in very close as if for a kiss, but only whispered near to your ear, tickling your earlobe with his warm breath.

"Don't tell anyone about what we did... just a little secret, m'kay? Though I guess you wouldn't be blabbin' to anyone else anyway," he chuckled darkly, but it wasn't mean.

"Maybe we can see each other again?" he proposed as he balled up the soiled toilet paper and retreated back towards the door.

"Okay, Jonathan," you whispered in reply and he flushed at the sound of his name on your lips.

"I think you'll be my new therapy, better than anything that wanker of a Freud psychiatrist can offer." He paused, shuffling his feet and then glanced up daringly, determination in his blue orbs.

"We'll find a way out soon, a safe way out, me and you and Rachel and Toby... and I'll show you how to have a good time at the pub, eh? Like the sound of that?"

You only smiled as he turned to exit, but then abruptly paused and bit his lip as he looked back at you with a yearning, like what the two of you had just done still wasn't enough.

"Abair do phaidreacha agus codhladh sámh," he spoke in Gaelic and you translated back softly with a meaningful smile.

"Say your prayers and sleep well."

With a dip of his head and smug, yet almost childlike smile, Jonathan ducked out the door and was gone for the night.

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 4 months

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The Ward Pt. 3 | Jonathan Breech x fem!character

Summary: Jonathan Breech is sentenced to three months in a Dublin psych ward after trying to take his life. He meets a girl and thinks he's fallen in love... but is this just a product of opportunity and loneliness or could it be more?

Warnings: Based heavily on One the Edge (2001) so there is already a lot of mental-health specific discussions. More specifically- mentions of suicide, self-harm, death, depression, anxiety, feeling helpless and alone, medication, vomiting, pregnancy. Pt. 3 has smut: unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), and loss of virginity. Please don't read if you think any of the previously mentioned topics could be triggering! Some of this is taken from my personal experience with mental-health issues so read with care.

word count: 3790k

Pretty- Coco & Clair Clair 🎶

Narc- Interpol 🎵

Note- One the Edge is free on Internet Archive...

Please read the warnings before continuing, thanks!

After group therapy, Jonathan walked into the men’s bathroom on the women’s ward and stood just inside as the door swung closed quietly. Margaret was sitting on the ledge as she had a day or two before, reading. She looked up as he entered and closed her book.

“Was I really your first real kiss?” He asked and she scoffed in surprise.

“What?”

“Was I really your first kiss?” He asked again and Margaret stared at him before answering, a blush already forming on her cheeks.

“Yeah…”

“How was it?”

“You were there, remember?” She put her book aside and put her palms against her face to cool them. She looked at the wall, too embarrassed to look at him.

“Pretend I wasn’t.” He smiled and she rolled her eyes, “tell me how it was.”

“It was good, I don’t know.” She laughed uncomfortably and he smiled wider.

“Tell me how you felt when you kissed me,” he prompted and she shook her head in uncomfortable disbelief.

“Well, um I felt happy and good like I didn’t want to stop. I liked looking at you and I liked feeling close to you.” She answered. “Is that what you meant?” She furrowed her eyebrows and Jonathan nodded.

“You liked kissing me and I liked kissing you. I don’t think this is just a relationship of convenience, I think we could really like each other.”

“Here we go,” she jumped off of the ledge and landed beside Jonathan who had one hand resting against the handicapped stall.

“Just hear me out! I thought about what you said and I think I really do like you. I like talking to you and I think we understand each other really well.” He explained and she laughed softly.

“We both tried to kill ourselves, of course we understand each other.”

“But see, that's the thing. We understand each other better than other people would. You said that there are plenty of attractive girls out there but what makes you so sure that I would choose anyone else if I could choose you?” He waved his other hand as he spoke. She had started to walk away when she turned back and went up to him, talking low.

“Because even though we kissed and we may like each other, we don’t know each other at all. I’m some girl from America who happened to take too many pills to kill herself and it didn’t work. In any other situation, you would have walked past me on the street and gone for someone else.” She started to get upset and he looked down at her from against the wall. “I’m not interesting or beautiful or that smart, I’m just depressed and lonely and that makes me easy to love when you have nothing else to do.” Jonathan inhaled quickly.

“I don’t agree with you at all. I think you’re interesting and so beautiful that it distracts me during group therapy. Even though I’ve only been here for about a week, I feel that I have a pretty good idea of who you are and what you mean to me and my happiness, and you mean a lot.”

“But what if I can’t make you happy?” She interjected, angry tears filling her eyes. “Not everything can be solved by sex and love, Jonathan. We’re unstable and could kill ourselves at any time. You can’t trust me and I don’t trust you,” she whispered and started to turn when he reached for her.

“Margaret, I love you.”

“Don’t say that when you don’t mean it!” She nearly screamed, hitting his chest with her hands. She started crying as she hit him weakly. He watched her, his jaw clenched. “Don’t call me cute or beautiful or anything else when you don’t fucking mean it!” She cried and pushed herself away from him. Her nose was runny and she wiped it on the sleeve of her green jumper. Her hair was messy and some of it stood up. She took a deep breath and looked back at him, caught in the beauty of his eyes. “We lie all the time. We lie about how we feel and about how sad we are so that others feel better about themselves. We can’t lie to each other, not here. So, don’t lie to me, please. I’m sick of lies, Jonathan.” She whispered sadly and Jonathan closed the distance between them and held her. She didn’t resist and hugged him around his waist, putting her face in the crook of his neck. He kissed the top of her head and smoothed down her messy hair. She cried quietly against him and he waited patiently, holding her closer.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her cheek, “I won’t lie to you, I promise. I’m so sorry.” He promised, though he hadn’t been lying. “I shouldn’t have sprung that all on you but I wasn’t lying, Margaret. What I said was true. I won’t force you to believe me but I promise that I was telling you the truth.”

She stopped crying slowly and took in a shakily breath. He rubbed her back, feeling the warmth of her body through her clothes.

“What if I don’t feel the same way? What if I hate you?” She whispered and Jonathan looked up at the ceiling tiles. He knew that it was a possibility and he was prepared to accept it. He put his chin on top of her head and exhaled slowly.

“Do you?” he asked, “Do you hate me?”

Margaret thought for a moment and shook her head against his chest, “no.” Jonathan sighed in relief and pulled her even closer, kissing her head. She gripped his shirt gently in her hands, her fists clenched against his back. After a few minutes she pulled away and went to the sink where she splashed cold water on her face. She rubbed cold water over the back of her neck and took a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall, wiping the water away. He watched her with a sense of wanting, wishing that he could touch her face how she was now. He crossed his arms over his chest and rested on one hip, jutting the other out. He sucked on his bottom lip and leaned his head back against the yellow tile of the outdated bathroom. He built up the nerve and left the wall, standing beside her at the sink. He took the paper towel from her hands and wiped the skin beneath her jaw and below her collar. He kissed each place after he wiped it and she closed her eyes, breathing softly through her parted lips. Then he kissed her and she brought her hands to his neck, tracing the lines of tendons in his neck. He pulled away and threw the paper towel into the trash.

“You’ll be ok?” He asked and she smiled softly from the sink.

“Yeah. You?” She asked and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he smiled back and left the bathroom. He smiled to himself as he went back to his room. He sat on his bed as the sun set, his hands clasped around the back of his neck. He sat like that for what felt like hours. He rubbed his eyes and kicked off his shoes, realizing how long he had been sitting there, staring at the floor. The razor, still lying by the wall, caught his eye. Jonathan crossed the room and grabbed it from the floor. He twirled it in his fingers again and studied the sharp edge. The release of pain was always nice but he hated the way the blade had felt, stinging as it would slice through him. He put the blade back into his carton of cigarettes and pushed the box further away on the table so that he wouldn’t see it. The sun had completely set by now and he stood at the window. The bars blurred in his vision so he could only see the garden outside. He thought about Toby and how they had escaped over the wall for the night, and how he had come back to Margaret waiting for him in his room. The thought of her prickled his skin and jumped his heart. Why couldn’t they find comfort in pain, especially when it was in each other? Maybe this wasn’t just a momentary salve, what if there was a reason why they were both here together? Life was never ensured and he was young and wanted everything out of life while he could still bear being alive. The analog clock on the wall read midnight and he sighed quietly, trying to make himself tired. Time changed shapes when he was depressed, it slipped by quicker than he could understand or it slowed down to a painful trickle. The corridors were quiet outside and the night nurses retired to the office, listening out for the sound of harm. Jonathan’s door clicked open and he jerked around, expecting to see a nurse.

Margaret closed the door quietly behind her and looked at him, a shy smile coming to her lips. His silhouette blocked the light from coming in through the window but she could still make out his sharp face in the shadow. She walked up to him and kissed him softly, her hands finding the angular shapes in his face. His lips were slightly chapped and he licked them when she pulled away for breath.

“You’re here,” he whispered and she nodded.

“You were right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he put his hands around her hips and ran his thumbs up and down. Her white nightgown glowed in whatever light still managed to shine through the small window. Like before, he could see the shape of her body below the clothes and he shivered. She wore no shoes so she stood on the balls of her feet to kiss him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He leaned into her and supported her hips as she balanced. She took a step back and panted slightly, he watched her, his lips pink from kissing. She took the hem of her sweater and pulled it over her head and dropped it ungracefully to the floor. Jonathan stared at her as his heart quickened further. He thought he knew what was happening but he wanted her to lead him, he wanted her to be in control as it started, so he waited until she went back to him and unbuttoned his cardigan. He kept his arms by his sides and let her push the cardigan off his shoulders and down his arms. She studied his body as she undressed it slowly. She unbuttoned his top, the one that was still too short on his arms, and paused when his chest was exposed. With her shaky fingers, she traced the line of his sternum down to his navel. His stomach flinched below her cold touch and he smiled as he watched her, her lips held open in awe. She took off his shirt slowly and kissed his collarbones up to his shoulders. He yearned to undress her immediately but he waited for her to explore him completely at her own pace.

Margaret looked up at his eyes that looked royal blue in the dark and hooked her fingers around the waistband of his pants. He nodded and she pulled down his pants, so he stood with only his boxers and socks on. She stepped back once again and looked at him. His chest was hairless and smooth, there was some scarring from old acne at the base of his neck. He had long lanky legs and longer dark hair that swept naturally to either side of his face. He was beautiful, she thought to herself. He could tell that she was giving him his turn, waiting for him to touch her as she had touched him. He approached her slowly and started by tucking her hair behind her ear. She closed her head and leaned into his gentle touch, he smiled. Jonathan ran his index fingers down either side of her chest to her navel and bunched the fabric of her nightgown into his hands. Then he moved his fingers to the cuffs of her sleeves and played with the small eyelets of lace decorating each one. He smiled down at her and when she opened her eyes, she smiled back.

“Are you ready?” He asked her quietly and she nodded.

“Yes.”

Jonathan returned his hands to the fabric around her navel and pulled the dress up and over her head. Her hair fell back against her shoulders when the gown left her head. He put the dress aside and looked down at her bare chest. He didn't expect her breasts to be bare below the gown and the sight of them made him blush. His hands rushed to touch them but he managed to slow down his movements, touching her ribs first before sliding his dry hands over her chest. She exhaled shakily as he cupped and squeezed her breasts in his hands. It was like he was seeing a girl naked for the first time, though he was not a virgin by any means. He knew she was, he could tell without her having to say the words. So these moments were important to her and he wanted to honor that. He moved his hands up to the base of her neck and he kissed her. He lowered himself slowly to the ground, to his knees, and looked up at her. She looked down at him with a mix of fear and anticipation. He smirked reassuringly and kissed the front of her underwear.

“Can I taste you?” He asked quietly and she drew in a shaky breath before nodding with a small whimper. He slowly pulled down the waistband of her underwear, exposing her cunt, and left the underwear half-way up her thighs. He felt his erection push against his boxers as he placed a second kiss on her cunt and she gasped quietly. His hands held her thighs still as he licked the closed entrance, guarded by a small gathering of hair. He lowered his head farther and ran his tongue up and down her slit. She gasped softly as he did so and her hands found his shoulders which she squeezed. He raised his head and kissed her navel where she had a small freckle. He pulled her underwear down the rest of the way and helped her step out of it. He stood up and cupped her face in his hands.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered and she held his wrist, looking up into his blue eyes.

“Will you fuck me?” She asked him slowly and he smiled.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “yeah.”

She kissed him and breathed deeply through her nose, catching his scent and relaxing against him. Jonathan guided her to his bed and they both crawled onto the mattress and sat on their knees, kissing each other hungrily. She lowered herself back onto the bed, her head at the foot of his bed. He supported himself above her, his arms on either side of her head, careful to avoid her hair as it spread out around her head. He looked at her, startled by exactly how beautiful she really was. He kissed down her chest and held the tops of her thighs in his arms, lowering his head to taste her again. She squirmed as he nibbled at her thighs and traced her labia with his tongue. He sucked and prodded her while she whimpered quietly, her hands still gripped around his shoulders. He hummed against her and she moaned, her hand snapped against her mouth to ensure that she wouldn’t be too loud. He came up for air and smiled. She was arching her back against the mattress, her chest rising and falling with excitement.

“Are you ready for me?” He asked her and she propped herself up on her elbows.

“I think so,” she whispered.

“I’ll go slow, ok?” He nodded reassuringly and she smiled nervously.

“Ok.”

He slid off his boxers, showing his erection. Margaret looked at him, her brows furrowed in fear. He noticed her expression and cupped her cheek with his hand.

“Hey, it’ll be ok. You can tell me to stop anytime and we’ll take everything slow.” She smiled softly and nodded again. He spat on his hand and fisted himself slowly, coating his erection with the lubricant. He moved the head of his erection against her and pressed gently at the small opening. “It’ll hurt a little at first. I’ll try to be gentle, tell me to stop if it hurts too much.” He rubbed the side of her thigh and pushed inside her just a little. She exhaled stiffly and he pushed a little farther.

“Relax, It’ll feel better for you if you do.” He cupped her face and waited for her to relax around him before going all the way in. She gasped sharply when he was inside but as soon as he was, her body opened to accommodate him. The stretch of him inside her was nice and she caught her breath.

“Ready?” he smiled, his arms propping himself up above her. She nodded enthusiastically and slid her hands up his chest, to his neck.

“Yes, I’m ready. I’m so ready.” She whispered and he chuckled softly. He thrusted farther before pulling out and doing it again. She learned how to catch and release her breath as he entered her, hitting a spot that made her gasp in pleasure. She didn’t think that penetration could feel so good. Jonathan panted and tried to compose himself as he slid in and out of her tight cunt. He moved slowly above her and shivered in pleasure at the sound of her quiet moans. He dropped his face close to hers and watched each other as they opened their mouths in silent gasps, exchanging hot breath.

“Faster,” she whispered and put her hands on his lower back, pulling him farther inside her.

“Fuck,” he gasped weakly and moved his hips quicker, her walls tightened around him as she squeezed her thighs. The bed squeaked quietly beneath them and she laughed quietly, bracing one hand against the wall beside them.

“Jesus, Jonathan…” she gasped and threw her head back against the mattress, “so good…” was all she managed to get out and he cupped her breast with his free hand.

“Fuck, fuck,” Jonathan cursed and changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting her G-spot exactly. She gasped loudly and covered her mouth quickly. He covered her hand with his hand and went faster, hitting the spot again and again. He watched her eagerly as her eyes rolled back into her head and she grew wetter around him. He gasped quietly and panted, the muscles in his back flexing and relaxing with each thrust.

“You’re going to cum,” he panted out and she nodded breathlessly beneath their hands. Her legs wrapped around him and pulled him as far as he could go inside her and he tried to quiet his involuntary whimpers as she kept gripping around him and coercing him deeper and deeper inside. Finally she came and he felt her finish around him. She moaned into her hand and he helped stifle the noise as she finished. He pulled out and kissed her, his hands now pulling the cum from between her legs and coating his still-erect penis. He fisted himself as she kissed him, sucking on his tongue and his lips as she came down from her organsmic high. He was still wet and hot from being inside her and he finished in his hand, shooting his cum onto the cement floor. He broke their kiss and panted heavily above her, his arm now tired from masturbating.

“Did you finish?” She asked softly and he nodded. “You pulled out,” she observed and Jonathan smiled.

“You said you were scared of getting pregnant,” he laughed, letting his head fall against her stomach. She smiled, contracting the muscles in her abdomen, and she carded her fingers through his hair. He turned his head to rest his cheek on her bare stomach and looked up at her. She stared straight up at the ceiling and twirled his hair.

“Was it ok? Did it hurt?” He asked softly and she shook her head.

“It didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. It was really good, Jonathan,” she sat up and he rolled over to rest his head on her thigh. She leaned over him and kissed him. He sat up and ran his hand around her waist, kissing her more.

“You were so perfect,” he whispered.

“Is this how it’s supposed to end?” She asked him as he pulled away. He furrowed his brow.

“What do you mean?”

“Do I go back to my room now? I don’t know what people do after sex.” She pulled her hair around her shoulder and braided it nervously. He laughed lightly and shook his head.

“No, no. You can stay here. I want you to stay here…” he trailed off and admired how her body looked in the moonlight after they had fucked. Her face was flushed and her lips were wet from kissing.

“Ok,” she dropped her hair and nodded slowly, “I'll stay.”

“Good.” He smiled and reached over the bed for their clothes. He pulled the sweater over her head and rubbed her arms to warm them up. She pulled on her cotton underwear while he put his pants back on. He pulled down the covers for the first time since getting there and they crawled beneath the blankets. They faced each other and Jonathan petted her hair away from her face, absorbed by how soft she was.

“Your lip’s getting better,” he observed and she smiled.

“Who would’ve thought,” she joked. They stayed there in silence, Jonathan stroking her hair. Margaret shifted closer to him in bed where it was warmer. “Are you tired?” she asked in a low voice and Jonathan nodded slowly.

“Yeah, a little.”

“Did it take a lot of energy?”

“To fuck you?” He smiled.

“Yeah,” she laughed quietly and he shrugged.

“Yeah but it was worth it. I like being tired after. I liked making you cum.” He added at the end with a smirk.

“I liked it too. I like you.” She nestled her head below his and he sighed, wrapping his arms around her. He kissed the top of her head and waited for her to fall asleep before drifting off himself. She smelled like the outside, fresh and clean like rain. The smell washed him away.

----

The end? lmk below if I should continue this series :)

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