"Oh, Monty."
She sighed as he kissed at her neck. He knew she loved it when he did that. They were in Sibella's bedroom, perched on the edge of her bed as they had been many times before. But this time, they had the house to themselves, and the Hallward parents would not be home for several hours. They were just seventeen years old, and had begun to look at each other differently. Throughout childhood they had been the best of friends, but now they stole kisses whenever they could, hands brushing against clothing in places they knew they should not, yet loving every second of it.
As Sibella gave another moan, he sucked at her throat and dug his fingernails into his palm, feeling his body begin to respond in a way he did not want her to see. He tried to think of something- anything- else. What his mother would say right now, the Hallward parents bursting through the door, perhaps spontaneously drowning while skating during the winter. But Sibella kept making noise! Her little gasps and sighs would be the death of him. And she was so close to him, he could feel her breathing, could practically hear her heartbeat.
"Oh God," he mumbled by mistake. He pulled away from Sibella, standing abruptly, facing away from her.
"Monty?" she questioned, wondering for a moment what had happened. But as he did not turn to face her and tapped his foot nervously, she had an accurate guess.
"I'm sorry, I... we have to stop. For a minute." Ever the gentleman, smirked Sibella. But she was in no mood for a gentleman.
"Monty," she spoke his name again after a moment, her voice low. "Monty, we don't... we don't have to stop. Not if you don't want to. Because I... I don't think I want to," she said haltingly.
"I'll only be a moment," he said, his voice slightly higher pitched than usual.
But instead of listening, Sibella rose from the bed and crossed to him. She wrapped her arms around him from behind and gazed over his shoulder to see their reflection in her looking glass. "Monty," she whispered in his ear, causing him to squirm slightly. She searched his body with her eyes, taking in every inch of him, but lingering on the rather obvious buldge in his trousers, the fabric stretched tight over him. She shivered, pressing herself closer against his back, longing to take those now-tight trousers off of him. Holding eye contact with him in the mirror, she brushed a kiss to his neck, and then took his earlobe gently in between her teeth and tugged lightly.
She smiled as she felt his heart begin to pound, her hand on his chest. Still not looking away from his eyes, she slid her hands down his body, one coming to rest on his stomach and the other moving down further, covering that bludge in his trousers and beginning to rub him. His eyes closed and his mouth came open slightly as he hardened further under her hand.
Bringing her hands back up, she unbuttoned his loose-fitting waistcoat, pulling it off of his shoulders. Reaching behind her, she untied the sash on her pale pink dress before encouraging him to undo the buttons up the back. Clumsily, his fingers coaxed the pearl buttons apart, exposing her corset to him. She pushed the dress down off her hips, the full skirt falling into a pouf of pink on the rug. Putting his hands on her waist, she kissed him hard.
He pulled blindly at the laces of her corset, and somehow between the two of them, they managed to get it off of her. She untied the strings of her petticoat and let that, too, fall to the floor. They both went to work on his shirt, four hands working together. Practically ripping it off of him, she ran her hands over his bare chest. Both of them kicking shoes off, she led him by the hands to her bed. She pulled him down on top of her, their legs tangled together.
Kissing her lips, he thought it might be a good idea to move to her neck again, remembering the little sighs she had given him earlier. He left a trail of kisses from her mouth, across her jaw, and down her neck, kissing all the way down to the little hollow at the base of her throat. His motions had the desired effect, and he smiled against her skin as one of those delectable little sighs escaped her lips.
All at once remembering a page in a book he found some time ago, he had another idea. "May I..." He hesitated. "Umm, may I... may I use my- my tongue?" As she tilted her head up slightly to look at him, he was relieved to find a delighted expression in her eyes.
"Yes, please," she nearly purred, tilting her head back again, as though presenting her neck to him. He kissed her throat once more before sliding the tip of his tongue up the length of her neck. She gasped and arched her back to press herself against him. Their mouths found each other once more before she abruptly pushed them both upright. She rose up on her knees to match him, pulling him close, one of his legs between both of hers. "Touch me, Monty," she demanded.
"What?" he asked, distracted by her proximity.
Somewhat frustrated, she whisked her slip up and over her head, tossing it to the floor. She grabbed his hand, pressing it to her breast. "Monty, touch me." He quickly obliged, running his palms eagerly over breasts, waist, hips, thighs- every one of her curves that he had been longing to have beneath his hands.
He looked down as he felt her fingers at the fastening of his trousers, frantically pulling them open. He wriggled out of them, his arousal all too visible. Immediately, her fingers were tugging at the waistband of his underwear, and as he kicked those away after a moment, nothing separated them.
Tentatively reaching a hand down, she stroked his length. It did not look quite as Sibella had expected, but she was largely unfazed, though perhaps a little nervous. He guided her hand with his own, controlling her motions until she could do it on her own.
Suddenly grabbing her to him by the waist, he buried his mouth in her neck and shoulder, wanting to make her sigh again. As his tongue danced across her collarbone, she moaned softly and ground her hips against the leg between hers.
Gasping in surprise, he pulled away abruptly.
"What?" Sibella questioned, her cheeks flushed with color.
"It's wet!" he exclaimed, brushing at his thigh. Sibella burst out laughing.
"Yes, of course it's wet! What else did you think it would be?"
"I... I don't know! Is it supposed to be wet?" Monty appeared more confused than she had ever seen him in her life. Sibella merely laid a hand on his cheek, still laughing.
"Yes, it's supposed to be wet. Here, let me show you." She brought his hand down between her legs, pressing his fingers into the wetness that he seemed so alarmed by. First with one finger, and then two, Sibella showed him how to pleasure her with his hand. Once he seemed slightly less uncomfortable, she flipped around so that her back was pressed against his chest and she could better maneuver his hand. She encouraged him to slide a finger inside of her, and then another.
She gasped loudly as he moved his fingers in slightly a different way, and at first he thought he had done something wrong. He froze, stopping the movement of his hand. "Do that again!" she exclaimed.
He tried to repeat the action exactly, and apparently succeeded as Sibella leaned back against his chest with a moan. "Don't stop," she murmured. And he did not.
Sibella's moans grew in volume and frequency, and Monty wondered momentarily if it was unpleasant for her, to make her sound so, but her cry of, "Oh, yes!" put him at ease. She brought his hand from her waist up to her breasts.
Suddenly, she inhaled sharply and arched her back, pressing her shoulders into his chest and her hips into his, her head falling back against him. He felt her tighten around his fingers as she gave a shout. He moved with her, loving the sensation of her body rubbing against his.
After several moments, she relaxed back into him and he wrapped both arms around her. "Oh, Monty," she sighed, breathless.
"Sibella?" he said softly.
"Mmm?" She turned her face into his neck, enjoying the scent of his skin.
"Will you think me foolish if I say that I want to make you do that every day of your life?" he murmured, and she could feel the vibrations in his throat against her nose and forehead.
"That's very sweet." Smiling, she twisted slightly to kiss him. "And do you know what I want?" she asked as she broke the kiss.
"What?"
"You." She lay back on the bed and pulled him down to her.
"Sibella, I'd like to, truly, but I don't want to hurt you. I... I've heard it's often painful for a woman the first time." She almost laughed as he blushed.
"Sweet Monty," she hummed, brushing the backs of her fingers against his cheek. "I'll be fine. I want this." She tilted her head up to kiss him.
"May I go slowly?" he asked, still concerned. "So that if it hurts, you can stop me immediately?" She nodded her head in agreement.
When Sibella's family returned home several hours later, there was no sign that anything of the kind had taken place in the bedroom. Both Monty and Sibella were once again clothed, the bed was made, and everything was just as it should be. It was a secret shared between the two of them. When they held each other's gaze they smiled at the memory, and the knowledge that they were now lovers. Neither of them would have it any other way.
