Rating: M. If you are underage, please don't even bother. Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. A lot of this is based on some of the crappy personal experiencesI have had/still am currently having. This is just a taste of other stories that could be written, such as "Erik's First ... : A 30-Second One-Shot", or "Christine Learns Just How Wet a Mask Can Get ". But I'll leave that to others. It's meant for fun, so don't take it seriously.

Summary: For some reason, all the fangirls seem to think that Erik is the most sexually masterful virgin on the face of the planet. HE WAS A 40-YEAR-OLD VIRGIN WHO HAD NEVER BEEN KISSED. He knew no more than a sixteen year old boy. Reading about brain surgery does not make you a brain surgeon. Duh. I'm not going to waste any of your time trying to retell the story or anything. I'm going to go straight to the good stuff: E/C Lovin'.

Thanks, annawilliams for BETA-ing:)


Erik leaned toward Christine, desperate to taste her lips. Forty years of longing for this contact, and finally, it was happening. Christine had agreed to give herself to him, body and soul.

He was petrified. Excited, but petrified. He had studied several texts of sexual technique, but as he was well aware, one can read plenty of scientific writings and not be a scientist if unable to perform.

But his thoughts were getting away with him… he had to concentrate on Christine. Christine! Finally…

His mouth moved awkwardly against hers. He had read that using the tongue was quite entincing, so he jammed it into her mouth and moved it around. Yes, that did feel nice. He poked harder, imagining that other parts of them would be mimicking these same motions very soon.
The thought excited him so much that–

"Damn!" Erik shouted suddenly, abruptly stepping away from Christine and covering his lower area with his leather-clad hands.

"What is it?" Christine asked, her face flushed, her hair disheveled.

"Err… nothing, my sweet. Just… excuse me for one moment."

Christine pouted and plopped down on the edge of the bed. What had happened? A virgin herself, she found all of this to be very new and exciting. Scary, but exciting. She knew what was going to happen tonight, and she thought she was ready. She wanted to, but she was also worried. What if it hurt? What if she BLED TO DEATH?

Erik returned, wearing a pair of deep red satin lounging pants.
"Nothing, I just… just had to check on Ayesha's food. I couldn't remember if I had fed her today."

Christine's eyes widened at the sight of Erik in the pants. There was a large… THING causing the trousers to form a sort of tent.

"Erik, why did you change your pants?"

Erik's face (well, the visible half) reddened.

"No reason, my dear! I just wanted to be more comfortable. Don't you?
Here," he said, alighting next to her on the bed and crossing his legs to hide his bulging nether-region, "why don't you let me make you more comfortable?"

He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the neck. She shivered slightly and emitted a small giggle. He took that as pleasure and decided to try something else he had read about: he nibbled lightly on her neck. She moaned softly. Good. Very good! He bit harder. Another moan. Harder. A louder moan. HARDER.

"OW!" Christine squeaked, jerking away from Erik, her hand flying to her neck, "That hurts!"

"Sorry…." Erik mumbled. Christine smoothed her hair and gave a little huff, pouting slightly.

"It's okay… just… be a little gentler next time, please."

"Of course, Christine… anything for you," Erik breathed, leaning in to claim her lips again. His kiss quickly grew in intensity, his tongue forcing her mouth open to plunge deep into her soft, warm recesses.
Suddenly, their teeth knocked against each other.

"OW!" they both said, breaking their passionate connection. They looked at each other and laughed. Erik reached out a hand to caress Christine's soft cheek before touching his mouth to hers once more.
Gently, he guided her so that she was lying on the bed, his mouth never leaving hers. Tentatively, he moved his hand to her breast. Oh God. It was so soft… he squeezed, gently at first, then with increasing pressure. Christine moaned and arched her back, bringing her hips into contact with his. He let out a hiss, but it was too late. He had burst again. Hopefully, she wouldn't notice. He kept his hand on her breast, still squeezing, kneading, like it was a ball of bread dough, his other hand frantically pushing his pants down. He was hard again. Curse his raging hormones! He had to be inside her, now!

"Christine," he was able to gasp between shuddering breaths, "please.
I need you. I love you. I'll do anything for you. Please, baby, baby,
please… I need to be inside you or I'm going to explode!" (Again!)

Christine tried not to frown… was this how it was supposed to be? She didn't feel like it was. This wasn't very romantic… in fact; he hadn't really done too much to make her feel good. But then again, this was her duty as woman. HER PLEASURE BE DAMNED!

"Yes, Erik. I love you. I want you too. Very much!"

Erik gazed at her with love overflowing from his eyes. He gently pushed her dress up and removed her undergarments. He had no time to waste! He needed her now! But he had to think of her, at least,
somehow. Again, he remembered what he had read: "Often times, a woman likes to have one, sometimes even two or three digits, inserted into her wetness." Yes! This shall make her feel good.

Erik fumbled with his gloves, determined to make Christine feel as good as she made him feel. Finally free of the leather, he parted her thighs with his hands and found that secret place between her thighs.
He rubbed gently, and when she moaned, he increased his pressure. He slipped two fingers inside of her, deeply, and began to move them in and out very quickly. Women liked this, right? This felt good, right?

Christine, meanwhile, laid there and waited for things to happen. She felt his fingers in her, and well, they kind of hurt. In fact, they REALLY hurt. He was being too rough, but she didn't want to make him feel bad.

Suddenly, he stopped and she felt his weight atop her. He was grunting and moving his hips, trying to push himself inside her. She wriggled a bit, trying to help him, but every time he tried to thrust into her,
he missed. He jabbed her in the thigh once, and the second time, he hit a tight spot and tried to push himself inside. Christine murmured softly, "Erik, love, that's not the right spot."

Erik's face burned with passion and tension. He needed to be inside of her NOW! Finally, his bulging manhood found her tight, dry entrance and managed to part of himself inside her. All he could think of was spending himself the whole way within her. With one tremendous thrust, he impaled Christine on his virginal staff. She moaned in pain, but he mistakenly took it as pleasure, and began to pound away at her. About three thrusts into his first thrilling sexual foray, Erik let out a guttural moan that sounded strangely like "Mommy!", and collapsed on top of her, leaving Christine absolutely bewildered and confused.

"Erik...?" she whispered into the darkness, hoping that perhaps they might try again now that they had gotten the first time out of the way. She received no answer.

"Erik?" she said again, a bit louder.

"Mmmmph?" he mumbled.

"Do you think you could get off of me? I can't breathe."

Erik grumbled, rolled off of her and turned his back to her.

Christine lay there in the darkness, thinking "This is what I've been waiting for? Perhaps I should have gone into the convent like my father wished..."

"Erik? she whispered.

"Zzzzzzzzzzz," came his foghorn snore. After all, not having a nose causes one to snore quite loudly, as Christine discovered that night.