AN: This is my first SA fan fiction, so any thoughts you have would be greatly appreciated :)

~Wendla's POV~

"We can get soaked to the skin and not even care!" I wanted him to run with me through the winter storm.

"Forgive me." He whispered this to me; I had no idea why, but the inclusion what I could only assume was a secret made my heart do tiny somersaults.

"It was me. All me" I whispered back. He pulled me into his chest. He was warm, I felt safe there. He looked deeply at my eyes and drew me closer. He was about to kiss me. My mind played the voice of my mother over and over; 'love her husband…as she can only love him.' This was wrong. I had let onto him my pleasure at his lips, I called his name, but something in me pushed him away. "I don' know".

"No matter where I am, I hear it, beating…" He was so poetic. I wanted to stay with him in this moment forever, or maybe do more, maybe kiss, properly, like a woman and her husband do.

"And I hear yours." Then he leant in again. He kissed me; his lips were soft, and the way, the way… I felt… I have never felt such strong emotion in life. Only when he beat me with the switch a few weeks ago had I ever let myself feel pleasure in the arms of another. He slowly pressed his body into mine, closer than when we had started to kiss. I heard my mother's voice again. This was sinful. "No- wait – no"

He stared at me, like he was starting to get angry, ready to hurt me, let something in himself spark. He instead said my name, intent on moving further than we were.

"Wait – stop. I can't. We're not supposed to." The pain was evident in my voice. I didn't want to betray my father and mother. I lived a good life, sticking to the rules. I was safe that way. Melchi was a radical, who had no belief in God or heaven or anywhere that rules were necessary. His temper was rising at me, I could see it in his expression. Then he burst.

"What? Not supposed to what? Love? I don't know - is there such a thing? I hear your heart… I feel you breathing – the rain, the hay… Please. Please, Wendla" He leant forward and kissed me again. It felt better this time, but part of my head was still ticking. This was WRONG! I needed to snap him out of this ridiculous fantasy.

"Melchi, no – it just – it's…" He proceeded to cut my sentence short.

"What? Sinful?"

"No. I don't know…"

"Then, why? Because it's good?" I dwelled on this for a moment. I loved Melchior, and a woman can only love a man in this way, or so my mother says. So what would be the problem, if I loved him truly, which I did?

"Because it makes us 'feel' something?" I again thought about this. I felt so good. I was in love with Melchior and if I did love him, I could surely kiss him without feeling a smudge of regret. I held him in my arms, firmly around his slightly large frame. I pressed my lips against his. He returned my kiss and my arms dropped from around his chest. He held me from the centre of my back and lay me down in the warm, damp hay. He whispered to me 'Don't be scared' and I nodded, feeling slightly powerless. He kissed me again and I felt safe again. He then placed a hand on my chest.

"No." I was going to be firm with him. I didn't want this, not even slightly.

"Please – "

"Don't. It…

"What?" He was looking at me, his large blue eyes making contact with mine. He was concerned for me, that was evident. This time, I had the power. I took his hand in mine and placed it back onto my breast. He unbuttoned my dress after a few moments of squeezing my chest. I was breathing heavily now. No person on the earth except me had ever looked under my dress since I was a child with less…less of a chest. He pulled my under dress open and stared at my heaving chest. He grabbed my breast and proceeded to caress it like he had done before. This was so exhilarating, I felt alive. A person can be living, but not truly alive. I was being awakened from a fourteen year slumber only true intimacy and feeling could knock me out of. His hand started to go up my legs, stroking them gently. I started to feel more and more uncomfortable as he go closer to my private area. I sat bolt upright, a tear rolling down my cheek. "Wait…"

"It's just me." He paused, waiting for me to lay back down. I looked into his eyes, this was starting to scare me. "It's just me." He reassured.

He reached my privates and stroked me there. It was so…so, wonderful. It was a sin, but it was making me happy. God wants us all to be happy, so how is such a thing a sin?

"Now there – now that's…" The pleasure was taking over me now. Melchi stopped and looked at me, cleary anxious to continue. He must've thought he was hurting me.

"Yes…?" he asked me. He looked worried.

"Yes." I responded quickly. I wanted him so badly to continue. Then he climbed on top of me. He pulled down his braces, then his trousers. This was so confusing. Why was he doing this? We were only kissing and he was stroking me. Why did he need to take his trousers down? Then, all too suddenly, he took his pants off. He pulled my dress away from my privates and started to push something into me. It hurt, badly. This couldn't be an act of love could it? He was barley inside me, when I started to feel a heaven within myself. After a little while of his entering me deeper and deeper, he thrust himself into me and, my God, it was heaven.

"Melchior – oh!" The pleasure was so intense. This was sex. What I knew of it was minimal, but I knew it involved a man and a woman. Ilse had told me about it. She was apparently very used to having sex, but she said she never felt connected to the men she had sex with. She wanted to be able to make love to a man. She described it as 'sex with a man you truly love and would give yourself too'. I was making love to Melchior. And, although he was doing most of the work, I felt in-charge. He was allowed to do this, because we were in love. This night would be immortalised as my first love, my first experience of love – making and, most importantly, perfect.