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She hasn’t told him yet. She keeps meaning to, because she knows she has to eventually, and it’s not like she hasn’t had plenty of opportunities. Like every time they’re making out on her couch and she asks him to stop before he can sneak his hand between her legs, like she knows he wants to. Like she wants him to, but the further they take it, the closer she gets to having to tell him, and it’s too embarrassing to say out loud.
Because how does she tell him that she’s almost thirty and she’s never had sex? That’s she’s never been so much as fingered by somebody who isn’t herself? It’s pathetic, she knows it’s pathetic. He’ll wonder what the fuck is wrong with her. Because there must be something wrong with her, right? Why else does someone go twenty-nine years without being fucked?
She hasn’t even dated in the last few years, because she knows everyone expects sex on the first date, or the second or third at the latest. Clarke doesn’t want to have sex with someone she hardly knows, especially for the first time.
Maybe there is something a little wrong with her. But the truth is, she can’t imagine herself having sex with someone who she isn’t one hundred per cent comfortable around. It’s got to be someone she would trust with her life, someone who makes her feel safe, wanted, loved. She’s never trusted anyone that much. Never felt like she could be totally herself around anyone, not even her own mother.
Her friends who know think she’s being ridiculous, and honestly, sometimes Clarke does too. It’s just sex, right? She should just get it over and done with. She should have just got it over and done with when she was in college. Had some drunken hook up like the rest of her friends. But she’s heard so many horror stories about how people lost their virginity. Forced or coerced into it. Maybe it was consensual, but their partner didn’t care enough to make sure it was good. Or the experience itself was fine, good even, but then they were abandoned by the person they thought they trusted.
So it’s not just sex to Clarke. It’s being totally and completely vulnerable with someone, and trusting that they won’t laugh at her, either for the way she looks or for her inexperience. Trusting that they’ll take care of her. That they won’t try to push her to do things she doesn’t want to do. That they’ll be patient with her, and gentle, and they won’t get mad if she changes her mind. That they’ll hold her after and that they’ll still be there in the morning.
She finally feels that way with Bellamy, and she’s desperate for him. They’ve been dating for three months now, and they were friends for a year before that. Even before they started dating, she was thinking about him fucking her, and now she’s fingering herself every night after he leaves, wishing she could just get up the courage to tell him she’s a virgin so she can stop being one already.
She could just not tell him, she knows that. But she’s worried that once he starts fucking her it will become obvious how inexperienced she is. Not that she thinks that will make him run. He’s already waited three months to have sex with her, and he’s never pressured her, never even asked her why she won’t have sex with him. She knows he’s not sleeping with anyone else. So she figures he must really like her.
Plus, she just really wants to tell him. She wants to be open with him. She wants him to know everything about her.
He takes her home after their date, and she doesn’t even bother inviting him inside anymore, doesn’t need to when she’s holding his hand as she walks through her front door. She’s going to tell him tonight, she’s definitely going to tell him tonight. She’s got a stash of condoms in her underwear drawer, plus a bottle of lube. She’s wearing her sexiest underwear, which she bought especially for him, a month ago now, though he still hasn’t seen it.
She dithered in the shower before their date about whether or not to shave her pussy. What if he thinks it’s gross? But then she realised that she doesn’t want to be with someone who thinks any part of her is gross, least of all some perfectly natural pubic hair. She doesn’t think he’ll care anyway. She trusts him. She trusts him with her body, and with her whole heart.
She keeps her hand in his, gripping it tighter than she ever has before. Her heart races as she leads him towards her bedroom.
“Bedroom, huh?” Bellamy says. “This is new.” There’s a hint of light teasing in his voice, and Clarke blushes.
She turns to him once they’re in her room, and he shuts the door behind him. He’s never been in her bedroom before. She likes the way he fills the space, with his broad shoulders and his big arms. She likes the way he’s looking at her, waiting for her to make the first move.
She grabs his hands in hers, and walks backwards towards the bed, until the backs of her knees hit the mattress, and she falls down onto it.
“Kiss me,” Clarke says, looking up at Bellamy. He leans down, and brushes his lips lightly across hers. She shivers. He presses his lips against hers, a little harder, his tongue ever so slightly slipping between her lips before he opens his mouth to kiss her deeper.
She’s kissed people before Bellamy, of course. She dated a little bit in college, kissed a few people on dancefloors at clubs while drunk. But she never felt anything like what she feels when he kisses her. Like the only thing that exists is his lips. Like she never wants him to stop. His kiss gets her cunt throbbing, and she knows she needs him tonight. She can’t put it off any longer, or she might die of sexual frustration.
She lies back, and Bellamy puts his hands on the bed, and then his knees, crawling on top of her, still kissing her languidly. His mouth moves from her lips to her jaw, then he’s brushing soft kisses down her neck. She bites her lip as his kisses grow more heated. He wants her tonight too.
“Bellamy,” Clarke says, her voice all breathy. He pulls back to look at her. “I have to tell you something,” she says, glancing down. She can already feel her face heating up. If she can just get the words out, she knows everything will be fine from there.
“What is it, baby?” Bellamy murmurs. He brushes a strand of hair away from her face delicately.
“I, um. I really want to have sex with you,” she says, and she knows she sounds absolutely idiotic already. Bellamy grins.
“Yeah?” he says. God, he’s waited so long. No wonder he looks so excited right now.
“It’s just—” she swallows.
“What?” Bellamy asks. He shakes his head, searching her eyes, concern etched on his face. Concern for her. Like she can’t have sex with him because she’s dying or something.
“I’m—” she starts. “I mean, I’ve never—” she swallows. “I’ve never done it before.”
He looks confused for a brief moment, before realisation washes over his face. “You’re a virgin,” he says. Clarke nods. She watches for his reaction, because even though she’s pretty sure he’ll be okay with it, there’s a tiny bit of her that’s still afraid he’ll laugh at her, or that he’ll break up with her.
“Okay,” is all he says.
“It’s okay?” Clarke asks.
“Of course it is, baby,” Bellamy says. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Clarke doesn’t know why, but she finds her eyes welling with tears. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “Because it’s weird. Because I’m nearly thirty and I’ve never had sex. Because I’ll probably be terrible at it, next to all the other girls you’ve slept with.”
“That doesn’t matter to me, Clarke,” Bellamy says. He wipes a tear from her cheek, then presses his mouth to her other cheek to kiss away the matching tear. “You’re going to be perfect.”
“Okay,” Clarke whispers. If he says it, then it must be true.
“You want it to be now? Tonight?” he asks her.
Clarke nods eagerly. “Please. I don’t want to wait any longer.” He kisses her, hard and deep.
“I’m going to make it so good for you, baby,” Bellamy promises. “I feel so lucky that you picked me to be your first.”
If she had any remaining doubts after his initial reaction, they’re all gone now. His words have the effect of both comforting her and turning her on. Something about his deep, reassuring voice, calling her baby and telling her how lucky he is to be the one to take her virginity.
“Can I ask you what you have done?” he whispers, pressing his lips against her ear. “Anybody ever put their fingers inside you?”
“No,” Clarke says. “I’ve only done what we’ve done,” she admits. “Nothing else.”
She hears his breath hitch. God, it turns him on, she realises. It turns him on to know that he gets to be the first to do everything to her. With her.
“I can’t wait to see you naked,” Bellamy says. “You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea,” Clarke giggles.
“I’m not sure you do,” Bellamy says, deadly serious.
“Well,” Clarke says, swallowing. She drops her voice. “I won’t keep you waiting any longer.”
She sits up, and Bellamy sits up with her, on his knees. Clarke pulls at her top where it’s tucked into her skirt, and drags it over her head. Bellamy’s eyes fall on her breasts, encased in a lacy, burgundy-coloured demi-cup. Clarke flushes under his heated gaze.
“This is pretty,” Bellamy says thickly, fingering the strap of her bra. As if it’s the bra he’s mesmerised by. “Did you buy this just for me?”
Clarke nods. He trails his finger down the strap, then presses his open palm over her breast. He’s touched her like this before, but only with her clothes on. Clarke reaches around her back and unclasps her bra. She lets it fall from her chest shyly, revealing her tits to him, to anyone, for the first time.
“You are so beautiful,” he tells her. Clarke ducks her head bashfully. He surges forward to kiss her again, and he pushes her back down on the bed, devouring her mouth with his own, while one hand fondles her tits, and with the other he lightly strokes her belly with his thumb.
“Let me take care of you, baby,” he says. “You tell me if you want me to stop.”
“Okay,” Clarke agrees.
Bellamy lowers his mouth to her left breast, sucking at the soft flesh. He keeps one hand on her waist, and the other trails up her thigh, higher and higher, pushing her skirt up. He kisses between her breasts, then down her stomach, settling himself between her legs, so he’s looking at her pussy, barely covered by a pair of sheer panties, the same colour as her bra.
She watches him, her heart racing, as he presses a kiss to her inner thigh, and then another, a little high up.
“This okay?” he asks her, his mouth centimetres from her cunt. Clarke is absolutely throbbing from the thought of him putting his mouth there.
“Yes,” she breathes. He lowers his head, and his lips make contact with her panties. Clarke drops her head back against the bed, unable to handle both the sensation and the visual.
“Nobody’s ever done this for you before?” Bellamy asks.
“Uh-uh,” Clarke shakes her head.
“Can I take your panties off?”
“Mmhmm.”
He pulls her skirt down first, discarding it on the floor. Then he slowly drags her panties down, and Clarke squirms with impatience.
“There we go,” Bellamy says, once her panties are gone. She’s naked in front of him. She doesn’t feel embarrassed, or worried that he thinks she’s ugly. He eyes her with such reverence, like he really thinks she’s a goddess.
He trails a finger along her slit, and Clarke can feel her arousal dripping onto him. He dips his finger into her folds, stopping just shy of her entrance. “Have you had anything inside you before?” he asks.
Clarke nods. “My fingers. A vibrator.”
“What do you think of when you get yourself off, baby?”
“You,” Clarke says. “Fucking me. Taking my virginity.”
Bellamy groans. He pushes a thick finger insider her. Much thicker than her own fingers, although not as thick as her vibrator.
Clarke lets out a quiet whimper as Bellamy moves his finger inside her. He keeps his finger inside her as he puts his mouth back on her pussy. His tongue finds her clit, and she gasps at the contact.
“Yes,” she moans, though she’s not sure she means to. He pulls his finger from inside her, using his tongue more generously, licking her pussy, delving between her folds, then back to her clit. He worships her cunt with his tongue, and she can’t stop the noises that escape her mouth as she hurtles towards orgasm.
“Bellamy,” she pants. “Bell, I’m gonna come—oh my god. I’m—” she cuts herself off with a moan, her orgasm hitting her midsentence. She pushes her pussy against his face as she comes, his tongue still inside her.
He lifts his head, and his mouth is covered with her arousal.
“Fuck me,” Clarke says. “Please,” she says. “Take my virginity.”
“Condom?” Bellamy asks.
“Top drawer,” Clarke points to the dresser.
Bellamy gets off the bed and hurries to the dresser, opening the top drawer and pulling a condom out. Clarke suddenly realises he’s still completely dressed. Not for long though. His shirt is gone by the time he gets back to the bed, and his pants soon follow. Clarke’s stomach flips over when she realises she’s about to see his cock for the first time.
He sheds his boxers, and for the first time since he assured her he was okay with her being a virgin, she’s nervous. She’s not entirely sure how she’s going to fit that thing inside her.
“Bellamy—” she says, unsure.
Bellamy looks up from where he’s rolling the condom onto his cock. God, he looks so excited. So excited to finally fuck his virgin girlfriend, and she’s made him wait so long for it. He’s been so patient, so understanding. She can’t disappoint him now.
“Everything okay?” he asks her.
“It’s big,” she says, still nervous about it.
“You can take it, baby, I know you can,” Bellamy assures her. “But if you don’t want to—”
“No, I want to,” Clarke says quickly. “Just—be gentle with me?”
“Of course, baby,” he coos. “I promise I’ll be so gentle with you. Gonna make it so good for you.”
Clarke nods, and Bellamy crawls back onto the bed. He’s so hard for her. She wonders how often he masturbates to the thought of her. How often he gets hard while he’s just kissing her.
“Okay, relax, baby,” Bellamy says. “You can tell me to stop at any time, okay?”
“Okay.”
He kisses her again, his chest against her chest, her nipples pressed up against him. His strong arms around her make her feel safe. She can feel his big cock settle between her thighs, the tip pressing firmly against her entrance. Her pussy clenches, feeling desperately empty. She needs him, needs him so badly.
“Bellamy,” she whines. He pushes his cock into her, just a little. The stretch is unbelievable, but it feels so good. He holds her steady in his arms.
“Okay?” he asks.
“Yes,” Clarke gasps.
“You’re trembling.”
“I’m okay,” she says. “Please, Bellamy. Please.”
He keeps going, and Clarke clutches him tightly as he sinks deeper into her, slowly, gently, until she’s got the whole thing inside her, and she’s shaking, tears forming in her eyes. Her head spins. The pleasure of having him inside her is overwhelming. This is what she’s been missing out on. And yet, she’s glad she never did this with anyone else. This is how it was meant to be, it was meant to be him.
“You okay, baby?” Bellamy asks her. His voice sounds strained, and Clarke knows he’s desperate to come, to fuck her properly, finally. “You’re not a virgin anymore.”
“I’m amazing,” Clarke says. “You can fuck me now.”
“Fuck,” Bellamy groans. He pulls out just a little, then thrusts back into her. “You feel so good, baby. And it’s all just for me, isn’t it? Nobody else.”
“Uh huh.”
He rocks into her, building up a gentle rhythm. He’s kissing her, wherever his lips can reach, while his cock pulses inside her cunt, each thrust and each kiss winding her tighter and tighter.
He’s breathing heavy now, panting hard, fucking her faster. Her second orgasm hits her by surprise, and as she cries out, Bellamy gives a groan, and then he’s coming too.
He collapses on top of her, spent. Clarke can feel him breathing hard, in time with her. He rolls off her, and Clarke immediately misses the weight of him. He doesn’t go far though, lying next to her, his fingers entwining with hers. He presses a kiss to her shoulder.
“How was your first time?” he asks.
“Better than I could have imagined,” Clarke smiles, shy almost.
“I’m glad.”
“Bellamy,” Clarke says, turning over on her side to face him. “Thank you.”
“For taking your virginity?”
“Well—yes. But for making me feel safe. And loved.” His eyes widen, and Clarke realises what she’s said. “Not that—you know, I think you love me,” she says quickly, her face turning red. “I just meant, that, you know—that you care about me and—”
He cuts her off with a kiss. “I do love you,” he whispers, brushing his nose against hers. “You should know that your first time was with someone who loves you.”
Tears prick at her eyes again. What a cliché, crying after losing her virginity. But she can’t help it, because he loves her, and she loves him too.
“I love you too,” she murmurs.