Stokely: Thank you so much for the praise! I'm trying with this one, but it can be difficult. It's all imagining what it would have been like and trying not to make it seem too appealing, but not as horrid as it would obviously have been. Because I think that would be a tremendously depressing story.

Furibondo: Thank you so much for reviewing and for your kind words. I think that there were times when a whore would entertain someone on her "own time", just because she wanted to. My character wanted this to be something more personal, and Tristan wanted to keep it as impersonal as possible, while enjoying some sort of emotional bonding. It's so hard to show both points of view in the first person style of writing, so there are bound to be some questions as to the other characters motivations.Tristan didn't mean to be hurtful, and he paused because he sensed he had hurt her in some way, but wasn't quite sure how. He was just being honest in his dealings with her. I would like to revisit her relationship with Tristan but I think she will definitely be more wary the next time around.

Cardeia: I'm glad that you liked it. I believe that while women can become more "man-like" with regards to sex and of course there are men for whom sex is very emotional, by and large, women place more impact emotionally on the act than men do. Even though she is becoming jaded, she still has moments of vulnerability and I wanted to show how that vulnerability gets chipped away. While the men appreciate the women and the comforts they offer - even the emotional comforts - for them it's only what it is. I think that the emotional part of some of those couplings can linger with the women in a way they wouldn't with the men. I know - the romance thing is always sort of there, isn't it, but I'm trying to steer away from that as much as possible with this story. I may do some more memories of Tristan, since people seemed to like this chapter, or maybe show how what she perceives as his rejection of her affects her afterwards.And no, she was not the whore with the bloody knees.That was just some random barmaid.

dellis: So glad you liked my Tristan chapter. He is so open to interpretation and I'm glad mine jibed with yours in this case.

Warning: This chapter contains mature subject matter of a sexual nature. If you are offended by sexual matter, please do not read any further.

Author's Note: This is not an angsty chapter. More of a romance-novel type of thing, where she looks back at her first time. I think it sounds fairly Gawain-like, I hope it does to you as well. I am working on a second part of the Gawain chapter that explains more abouther first experiencesactually working as a prostitute.Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Gawain was the first knight that I met, the one who has meant the most to me over the years. He was my savior, and my first lover.

I will explain how he came into my life. I was a terrified fourteen-year old girl, standing on a table at the tavern, naked and trembling. My virginity was being auction off to the highest bidder, and leering men surrounded me. Then unexpectedly the knights burst in. They had been away for weeks and were looking for both drinks and female companionship. Finding the tavern doors closed had not pleased them.

The knights were loud and boisterous, and I was afraid that they might be there for the same purpose as the other men. Then Gawain stepped forward.

At first the sight of him alarmed me - he looked wild and dangerous. He looked at me, saw my tear-stained cheeks, and a terrible look came over his face, which made me even more fearful. But instead of harming me, he pulled his tunic over his head and handed it to me to cover my nakedness. I think I fell a little bit in love with him right then. Over the angry protests of the tavern owner, he carried me in his strong arms away from those men, away from my shame, and I felt almost safe.

While Arthur had been sympathetic, and as outraged as Gawain and Dagonet, the law was very specific. Strabo, who ran the tavern, was my legal guardian, holder of papers signed by my father. I would have to be returned to him. Gawain came to me to tell me that I would be sent back the next day, and I could see the anger in his face. I tried to put on a brave face for him, so he wouldn't feel so bad, but I fear I failed miserably.

"Tomorrow?" I whispered.

"I'm afraid so," he said softly. His thumb came up to wipe a tear that wandered down my cheek.

"Do you think he's already sold me?" I thought about the men who had been there, bidding on me. All of them were old, fat, pockmarked or any combination of the three. And I would be sent to the bed of one of them. The thought terrified me. I hoped I hadn't been sold. On the other hand, I didn't want to have to go through the indignity of another auction.

"I don't know," Gawain said in a defeated voice. "Maybe."

"It's going to hurt," I said. "Isn't it?"

Gawain just looked at me. He didn't seem to know what to say.

I sagged a bit. "I hoped he was lying to me, to scare me," I said. "He put his finger in me and it hurt so much I cried. He said to wait until my maidenhead was taken, that I'd find out what real pain was."

"He put his…" Gawain's jaw clenched and I could see that he was getting angry again.

I recoiled a bit. "He said he wanted to make sure he was getting what he paid for," I explained.

"You're just a child!" Gawain exploded.

I looked down at the floor. Quietly I said, "I'm fourteen - old enough to be married."

He looked at me skeptically. "Do you bleed?"

My face burned bright red at this very personal question. "Yes," I said in a very small voice.

"I'm sorry," he said, embarrassed for me. "I'm not used to talking to innocent girls, mostly whores…"

He broke off, perhaps realizing that's what I'd be soon enough.

The silence between us was awkward. I looked at him. He was very pleasing, much more than any of the men I'd be given to. I liked him, he was kind. If it had to be done, why not with someone that I liked? But I didn't know how to ask what I wanted to ask him.

"Gawain…" I began hesitantly. "What if I were not a virgin when I went back to him? Could he still go through with the auction?"

Gawain looked at me. "He probably wouldn't. If you were not as he promised his reputation would be damaged," he said. "Why? What are you thinking?"

I just looked at him. I couldn't say it.

I watched as realization began to dawn on his face. "Me?" he asked. "I couldn't."

I lowered my head. Just because he was nice to me didn't mean he would do…that. And now I'd made a fool of myself.

Gawain realized my embarrassment and stammered, "I don't mean I couldn't, I just mean…"

"Why not?" I asked. "Am I displeasing to you?"

His voice was gentle. "Of course not. You'll be a very beautiful woman. But your first time shouldn't be with someone like me."

"Should it be with someone like them?" I asked him plainly.

Gawain looked sad, and shook his head. "No – it shouldn't. It should be with someone your own age, someone you love. Someone who will make it sweet."

"But it's not going to be," I said. "It will be with one of those old, fat men, and I'm afraid because I don't really even know what they're going to do to me. Only that it's going to hurt and be disgusting." My eyes were filling with tears as I looked up at him. "Can't you make it sweet?" I asked in a small voice.

He looked at me and I saw the compassion in his face. If the choice was between letting me have my virginity ripped painfully from me, and taking it himself, he knew which would be kinder. "Are you sure you want this?" he asked. "You only get one first time."

I looked him in the eyes. "My first time is going to happen soon anyway. But will it be horrible, or will it be…?" I didn't know the words to say, because I didn't know how it was supposed to be. He'd said sweet, but I didn't really know what that meant.

Gawain looked at me and reluctantly nodded. He'd agreed. I began to take off the tunic of his that I was still wearing, but he stopped me. Leaning forward, he pulled it back down so that I was covered again.

Confused, I said, "I thought you were going to do this for me. We should get it over with."

He smiled kindly. "I'm not going to just 'get it over with,'" he said. "I want you to be able to look back on this and smile."

He stood up to leave. "First, I'm off to the baths to wash up. You won't be smiling if I don't. I stink of horse and haven'tbathed for days." He turned towards the door and then back again. "Are you hungry at all?"

I nodded my head. Then I said, "What should I do?" Was I supposed to just sit here and wait? And think about what was to come? I'd go mad.

Gawain looked at me. I think he saw the anxiety on my face, for he said, "I'll send Vanora up to you. She'll get you something to eat and take care of you. If you have any questions you don't want to ask me, you can ask her."

I nodded gratefully. My mother had never gotten around to telling me anything and I felt woefully ignorant.

He left the room and shortly thereafter Vanora came in. She was young, beautiful and about six months along in her pregnancy. She put me at ease immediately, and was very friendly. She brought some food, which I wolfed down. I had not eaten since the night before. As I ate, she spoke to me. It seemed she not only knew Strabo, but was a barmaid at the tavern.

"So you're the girl whose maidenhead he was going to sell, are you?" Vanora laughed with delight. "He's furious, I'll bet. And there'll be no end to his fury when he finds your precious virginity is gone!"

My stomach tied up in knots. "What do you think he'll do?" I asked her.

"What can he do?" said Vanora. "He'll be angry, but he can't touch the knights, or displease them. His business depends on them. Where the knights go, so go the women. And where the women go, so follow the rest of the men." She soothed my brow, which was furrowed with worry. "Don't worry dear. He'll be angry, but he'll get over it."

Vanora was such a great help to me that day. I'd had a bath that morning before being put up on display like a prized cow. But she had me wash up a little, and told me that men always appreciated a clean, sweet-smelling woman. If I used perfume, use only sparingly because men generally preferred a woman's natural scent anyway. She brushed out my hair and talked to me about what to expect from the evening to come.

She also brought me some of her clothing to wear. "You can't just wear that tunic," she said. "It stinks of Gawain," she said, wrinkling her nose.

I'd liked the scent of it.

I was certain of my choice, but I suddenly wanted to have it validated. "Vanora, am I doing the right thing? What would you do?"

She looked at me and stroked my hair. "I would do just as you are doing. Gawain is a fine, fine man, and he will give you an experience to remember. Would that I'd had a man such as him for my first time."

My hair was brushed and gleaming, and I was dressed. Vanora pinched my cheeks to put some color in them. "You're white as death, child. Relax; enjoy yourself. You're about to have a wonderful experience. I promise you – he'll be very gentle, and he won't get angry if you change your mind."

She stood back and looked at me with approval. Then she smiled. "But I wouldn't change my mind if I were you. You're a very lucky girl."

Then came a knock at the door. I felt the blood run from my face, and a momentary sense of panic. Vanora squeezed my hand and kissed me on the cheek. "Don't fret – you'll be fine," she whispered to me.

She opened the door and greeted Gawain. I heard the deep timbre of his voice and I turned away from the door and from him, wondering again if I was doing the right thing. I heard the door close and then Vanora was gone.

I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders and nearly jumped out of my skin. "Are you still sure about this?" Gawain said gently.

I turned around and looked up into his beautiful blue eyes. Spellbound, I nodded my head. "Yes, I'm sure," I said.

Gawain looked at me. "You're beautiful," he said.

I looked down at my feet, embarrassed, certain he was just being nice.

His hand cupped my chin and raised my face. Blue eyes smiled into my own. "You are," he said softly.

His face moved closer to mine and I felt the whisper soft touch of his lips on my mouth. His lips caressed mine, brushing against them, moving softly until I longed to capture his mouth with my own. My lips parted to receive the slightest flicker of his tongue.

I was startled and my body stiffened beneath his hands. What an odd sensation. Wonderful, but odd. Gawain pulled back and looked at me, a question in his eyes.

"I was only surprised," I said.

Gawain smiled. "I expect you will be surprised quite a bit this night. Shall I go on?"

I nodded my head, and once again felt the pressure of his soft mouth on my own, his tongue lightly teasing mine. Up until now, my hands had hung awkwardly at my sides, but his beard tickled me, and I quite liked the sensation. I reached up with one hand, touching his face. The other I tentatively placed against his chest.

Gawain pulled me tighter against him, his kisses growing more insistent. I began to feel a curious longing for something, but I didn't know what that might be. These kisses were very much a part of it; I knew that much. Opening my mouth wider, I began to explore him with my tongue as he explored me, and I heard a soft noise of what I took to be approval.

As he held me closer and we continued kissing, I became aware of something hard pressed against my stomach. I was curious about it, and pushed closer to him. I was startled at his deep groan, and thought I had done something wrong. I pulled back.

"Did I hurt you?" I asked.

He seemed amused at the question. "No, little one, you did not. Indeed, there is very little you could do that would, so do not fear to touch anything you like if it will satisfy your curiosity."

I blushed and looked down. I had thought I was being subtle.

"No?" he asked, amusement still in his voice. "Shall we continue then?"

As he reached for me again, I said, "I want…" what did I want? I finally settled on, "…more."

I thought I saw his eyes darken a little. How strange, I thought.

"More, is it?" he asked. "Then more it shall be."

He removed his tunic and I gazed at the golden hair that curled upon his chest. "I said you may satisfy your curiosity if you wish," he said to me.

My hand reached out and lightly stroked his chest, fingers curling, combing through the soft fur. I wondered if his nipples held the same sensitivity as mine when I brushed against them. He had said to explore what I wished, so I did.

I heard the soft hiss of Gawain's breath. I looked up at him and was startled by the intensity with which he was regarding me, and stopped my explorations.

"You may continue, little one," he said in a voice that was strangely husky. "I get much pleasure from your touch."

Assured that I was not offending him, or doing anything wrong, I continued. I touched his abdomen, marveling at how unyielding it was, far unlike the softness of my own form. I longed to go lower and explore the swelling in his trousers, but did not have the nerve. I didn't think that I could ever touch…that. Indeed, I could feel my face flame at the thought. I ran my hands up the hardness of his arms, and wondered at the strength that must be in them. "You must wield a mighty sword, to be so strong," I said.

"I have been told that I do," said Gawain, amusement in his voice. I looked up at him, unsure of what I'd said that would be cause for amusement.

"Have you satisfied yourself for now, or is there more?"

Did I hear a slight touch of impatience in his voice? Maybe he was eager to get this over with and be on his way. "I am satisfied," I said.

"Not yet," he smiled. "But you will be."

I felt a shiver of anticipation.

He leaned forward and began to work at my clothing. "Shall we rid you of some of this?" he asked.

"I told Vanora that it was pointless to dress me, as my clothing would only be coming off anyway," I told him.

"No, Vanora was right. It's like a gift, and unwrapping it is half the fun," he said.

"But you've already seen me…" I blushed, because he had.

My outer clothing fell away, leaving only my sheer underdress. Gawain gazed down at me in appreciation.

"Tsk," he chided me. "You mustn't be so practical. I may have seen you already, but the act of love is about anticipation and mystery as much as it is about naked bodies coming together. A man will always enjoy watching a woman slowly undress for him, though he has seen her a dozen times before."

I would not have thought that to be the case. I had learned something new.

"But enough talk," he said as he reached for me again.

Again, his wonderful, soft, deep kisses. His hand rested against my throat, his thumb idly strumming my pulse. I held my breath as it slowly wandered down to my breast, where his thumb repeated the motion. My nipples began to stiffen in response. As his thumb circled I could feel the fabric scratch against me and I moaned aloud. My arms wrapped around his neck and I pressed more fully against him, against that fascinating hardness.

"Gods, you are sweet," he groaned into my mouth.

His hand began moving lower. Down to my waist his hand went. Lower, to my hip, and then still lower. I could feel the fabric of my underdress rising and the air against the skin of my thighs.

His fingers were now on my bare skin, moving slowly towards my inner thigh. I widened my stance, for I knew where those fingers were traveling. I knew I was being brazen, and that I should be embarrassed for wanting him to touch me there. Time enough for embarrassment later. Right now I just yearned.

As his fingers dragged slowly across my skin I became aware of something new. Along with that delicious ache that had been building up, came a curious dampness. It felt as if it were fairly gushing from me, though I knew that was probably my own anxiety. It could not be my flow, for it was not time for that. But what was it?

His fingers were drawing closer, indeed had brushed against the nest of hair between my legs. I stiffened. "Wait!" I said.

He drew back and looked at me, but his fingers continued on, sliding between my legs and causing me to throw my head back in shock.

Continuing to stroke me, he looked into my eyes. "Would you like me to stop?" he asked.

Wordlessly, I shook my head, unable to speak.

He said nothing about what he had felt down there, did not appear shocked or disgusted. Was it perhaps normal?

"If you really want me to, I will," he said. All the time his fingers stroking, strumming against me.

"No…" I groaned, my voice surprisingly husky. "Please…more."

A low growl escaped him and his hands quickly raised my underdress over my head, rendering me nude before his gaze. He pulled me against him and his mouth came down on mine, more insistent than ever before. Pushing me back onto the bed, his kisses trailing down my throat, and further, to my breasts. I arched my back, trying to push myself closer to the delicious sensations provided by his lips and tongue. His fingers trailed down my stomach, and lower, where Gawain found me already spread wide for his touch.

"You like that, do you?" he said against my breast, his voice nearly a growl.

I moaned in the affirmative. I felt completely shameless. His lips had ceased their gentle nuzzling and I opened my eyes to find him propped on one arm beside me, just watching my face. His fingers were still stroking me and I could not stop myself from grinding my pelvis in time with his rhythm, thrusting myself up towards his touch. As I said, shameless.

"Why are you watching me?" I gasped. It felt a little uncomfortable to be so observed.

"I'm the first man to put that look on your face," he said. "I want to remember it."

He continued to watch me as he stroked, and brought me closer to a state of intensity that I didn't quite understand, but craved. I knew there was more and I longed to find out what it was. My disappointment was palpable when he stopped stroking me and removed himself from the bed.

I watched until I realized he was removing his trousers. Although I was in a state of longing, I was also afraid. Not of him, for I knew he would try not to hurt me. But wouldn't it still hurt?

My eyes widened as I got my first look at an erect, nude man. I quickly closed them. Strabo's finger had hurt and was not nearly that size. How in the world would Gawain ever fit inside me?

He once again joined me on the bed and I stiffened. This was it. Soon I would no longer be a virgin.

He called my name, and I reluctantly opened my eyes and looked into his blue ones. "You're afraid," he said, leaning down to kiss me.

I nodded my head.

His fingers once again found me, and I hissed with pleasure. "That's what all this has been about," he said. "To get you ready, to ease my passage." His lips hovered over my ear and I shivered in delight at the sensation of his breath against it. "There will be some small pain, but after that, only pleasure."

I was still apprehensive, but I trusted Gawain. "I'm ready."

Gawain kneeled between my legs and I stiffened as he pushed against me. But he was not yet seeking entry, merely doing with his manhood what his fingers had been doing before. I closed my eyes – I could not look at him. I had never imagined such a thing.

"Open your eyes," Gawain said. "There is no shame in any of this. If you receive pleasure, receive it eagerly and enjoy it."

And I did enjoy it. Shamelessly, I pulled my legs wider, wanting more, aching for it. I was no longer afraid for him to be inside me, indeed I was eager for it, wanting it. He was sliding himself against me, over the entrance but not yet inside and I began to squirm in frustration. All my emotions - the pleasure, the frustration, and the longing played out on my face and he watched it all.

Finally I sensed that he was done teasing me, done readying me, for I was past ready for this. He poised himself for entry and once again asked me, "Are you sure you want this?"

"Gods, yes!" I cried out. "Cease your torture!"

He smiled, and watched my face as he slowly slid into me. My mouth opened slightly and I held my breath. There was some resistance, and I felt a stab of pain, and then it receded. Having watched my face as he took my virginity, Gawain was apparently now satisfied, for his mouth came down on mine and I received his kiss as eagerly as my body was receiving his manhood.

His body plunged into mine, and as he thrust forward, his body rubbed against that one place that brought such delight. With each thrust I came a little closer to that unknown but much desired end. Finally, it was there, that wonderful explosion of feeling that I had been waiting for. I stiffened against him and shuddered, crying out against his chest. He gripped me tighter, quickening his pace and with a mighty roar, found his own pleasure.

He collapsed against me, and I held him tightly as we both drifted off to sleep.