As the spring break weekend approached, Angela's parents told her they were going out of town, her first thought was to tell John. She grappled with the decision to take her relationship with John to the next level. They hadn't yet gone all the way, and Angela couldn't believe he hadn't once asked her to sleep with him. He always backed away whenever she gave him a gentle nudge or push, albeit panting, eyes closed, pants tented. She wanted him to say that he loved her, because she loved him, so very much.

Under the bleachers in the gym, they kiss. It's artless, a press of lips on lips, but his arms wrap around her, fingers sliding over that luxurious satin, warm from her body. His lips answer hers, and she carefully does the same, and he knows she's never done this before... And usually, that turns him off, but for Angela it's the opposite, it's a special, pathetic kind of beautiful.

His hand slides up her back clawing ever so gently, investigating if she likes that kind of thing, and her back arches, pressing into it. He pulls back ever so slightly, teasing the kiss deeper, and she follows the lead, he wonders if she's stopped breathing because he's pretty sure he has. He reminds himself to do that and sighs, a tongue reaching out to tease. She lets out this tiny squeak of a sound, and it's like a live wire, shocking him, as his grip tightens, clawing. Her shy smile stole his breath, leaving him momentarily speechless. Another whimper and she's trembling in his arms as he teases his tongue into her lips, not forcing it, not shoving it, but teasing it. Hers answers him, tapping toe to toe in this careful dance, and he's never enjoyed a girl like this before. She's bold, learns quickly, and when she wraps her lips around his tongue and sucks, he lets out his soft sound of protest.

"Angela, you don't know what you do to me." Their body chemistry was undeniable, mere thoughts sparking intense physical reactions, leaving him incapacitated and aroused.

"Of course I do John," She was doubtless, she expected him to pin her against a wall, have his wicked way with her, and send her back with enough time to fix her makeup and eat before the next bell.

"You've been denying yourself for so long," With longing, his voice cracked as John professed his desires, "Let me give you the release you need."

"I've never done that before...you'd be my first." John is the first boy she's ever kissed, and she is a virgin, she told him so, and no matter what happened, he'd always be the first. The guy that comes after him won't experience her timid kisses, the ones where she had no idea where her lips were supposed to go or what she was supposed to do. No, those were his alone.

Later that night in his apartment, John's thoughts reel over his relationship with Angela. He can't stop thinking about this crazy couple of months - nobody has ever done anything so kind for him. Only Angela, his pretty little angel. It's nice to have someone who cares, even if he'd never admit something that pathetic out loud.

'I've never done that before'

Which made him wonder, no girl had ever seemed unsure of herself, or straight up told him he was her first. Don't most girls at least tell you if you popped her cherry? What did he know about girls' virginity? He knew it could hurt. She could bleed. He knew he'd have to tell her and show her how to do everything, not that she hadn't been a quick study until now. What if he hurt her? He could be a little rough in bed, but none of his partners had complained. Would Angela?

He touched himself through his boxers and then impatiently pushed them down. God, he'd love a chance with her, the opportunity to taste her...down there and show her how much fun being naughty can be. But she's holding back...or is she waiting for him to go for it? There are no thoughts, no focus, only desire and the pain of wanting. With the image of Angela beautifully engraved in his mind, along with the recollection of the feel of her taut body. John's hands became idle and lowered to his chest, belly and finally settling on his throbbing cock which he firmly grasped. It took only a few strokes and he was there. So maybe he didn't sleep that night, it wasn't a big deal.

The next day as John Bender roared down the open road on his motorcycle, he felt an exhilarating sense of freedom. The powerful engine's vibrations pulsed through his body, and the wind whipped against his flannel shirt, making him feel alive and connected to the world around him. With each twist and turn of the road, he leaned into the curves, feeling the bike respond to his every movement as if they were one entity. The smell of fresh grass and distant pine forests filled his nostrils, mingling with the scent of gasoline and asphalt. The rhythmic hum of the tires on the pavement was a soothing symphony, drowned out only by the occasional roar of the engine when he accelerated. He relished the simplicity of the ride—the focus it demanded, the solitude it offered. There were no distractions, no worries; just the pure, unadulterated joy of the journey. Every mile melted away his stress, leaving a sense of peace and exhilaration. This was his escape, his sanctuary, where he could truly be himself, reveling in the open road's endless possibilities.

It wasn't until he arrived at Angela's suburban home that doubts lingered. For weeks, she's made excuses not to ride on the bike. But when Bender offered her a helmet and said he would wear one too, for an added sense of safety, she relented.

Angela stood by the curb, her heart pounding as she eyed her boyfriend's Harley Davidson. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, the perfect twilight setting for a Sunday ride. She felt a mix of fear and excitement, unsure of what the evening would hold. John, her loyal but troubled boyfriend, handed her his helmet. It smelled faintly of smoke, a reminder of his rebellious nature.

"Ready for an adventure?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of mischief and sincerity. He put on his old ratty helmet, while she put on his newly purchased one. With his finger, he tapped the tip of her proud nose, with its regal contours and confident stance, conveying a sense of self-assured elegance and authority.

"Yeah," Angela nodded, her jeans and boots making her feel slightly more prepared for the ride. She zipped up her jean jacket, the weather just right—neither too hot nor too cold. The minimal traffic added a sense of serenity to the moment, easing her nerves a bit. She wanted to show John she could be fun and spontaneous, that she could embrace his world.

As she climbed onto the bike behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling the rumble of the engine beneath her. The fear that had gripped her moments ago began to loosen its hold. John revved the engine, and they were off, cruising through the quiet streets.

The wind whipped through her hair, and Angela found herself slowly starting to enjoy the ride. She trusted John completely, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the thrill of the experience. The landscape blurred into a tapestry of colors—the greens and browns of the countryside, the blue expanse of the sky above. The sun casts a warm glow, adding to the sensory delight. As they sped along, the worries of the world fell away.

Eventually, John turned off the main road and navigated to a secluded spot by a serene lake. The bike came to a halt, and Angela dismounted, her legs slightly shaky but her spirit soaring. The tranquility of the place was a stark contrast to the adrenaline rush she'd just experienced.

John took off his helmet and smiled at her, his eyes reflecting the calm of the water. He pulled her close, and their lips met in a gentle kiss, sealing the moment. The fear that had once clouded her mind was replaced with a newfound sense of adventure and connection.

"I knew you'd like it," John whispered, his voice filled with pride and... something else. And yeah, it's only been a few months, and John doesn't know what love feels like, but he imagines that it's pretty damn close to this.

"I'm willing to try just about anything for you, even when it's crazy," Angela smiled, realizing that stepping out of her comfort zone had been worth it. She had shown John—and herself—that she was more adventurous than she'd ever imagined. As they sat by the water, the world felt perfectly balanced, just like the weather, not too hot, not too cold. Just right.

"Baby," John says, and her head shoots up. "I've never said those words to anyone before. That doesn't mean I'm not there, too." He said staring at the sunset. His prominent nose, with its strong contours and commanding presence, became a defining feature that captured attention wherever he went. He wonders if he'd given her an out would she take it, and part of him truly believes that Angela has no business loving him.

"What?" Angela says, voice raspy with shock. Angela lets out a stuttering breath and nods, "Okay," Instead of answering her, he presses his fingers into the back of her neck and pulls her closer, he pulls her into a kiss, stealing her breath away again.

"John, I love you," she confessed, her heart pounding rapidly in anticipation. There was a beat of silence that felt like an eternity. At that moment, his face became unreadable. She worried, panicked that he wouldn't say it back, frightened that he didn't love her. She placed her hand on his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat. Leaning in, their foreheads touched she played with his hair absentmindedly. His fingers traced her jawline.

"I love you too, Angela. You're the only one I've ever loved." Their eyes were focused yet soft. The happiness she felt was immeasurable.

Still in his reverie, he almost could not believe it, his first day with the carpentry internship. He was elated, his first hourly gig, a whole $3.00 an hour. He had projects lined up for the entire summer. The first assignment was repairing the school bleachers with the other carpentry students. He looked up and saw Angela behind the wheel of her 1980 silver BMW 325.

"Want a ride?" She was wearing designer sunglasses and a smile, looking his way. The guys whistle and wave flirtatiously at his pretty girl and Bender could not be prouder.

John walked to her car, shut the door, leaned over, and kissed her, placing his hand on her hip, one of his favorite places to keep it.

"Hello to you, too," Angela said when they finally broke apart, licking her lips. John was giving her one of his patented smoldering stares already, and they hadn't seen each other for five minutes. "Do you still want to come over?"

He slid on his cheap sunglasses a wolfish grin apparent.

"If I changed my mind I would have told you, baby. Why? Are you having second thoughts?" Though he was pretty sure Angela wanted him as much as he wanted her. Why else would she have told him that her parents were out of town?

"Make yourself at home while I order...I was thinking of ordering pizza, if that's ok with you," Angela told him as she led John into her house. "I usually get pepperoni, but if you'd like something else..."

"That's fine, Ang. You don't have to go out of your way on my account."

"I have to eat too, you know..." She picked up the receiver and dialed.

"Sure," he snorted, making himself at home. This was different, dinner time for him is trudging through crushed beer cans and empty liquor bottles...While figuring out the best time to get food from the kitchen to avoid his asshole father, only to find the bread went moldy and the peanut butter was gone...Eating includes sitting precariously on rickety furniture so it wouldn't break completely. He was so contemplative that he hadn't sat down and remained in the doorway when Angela returned.

"I have a couple of rentals from the video store," she said as she led him through her house. This was the first time he'd seen every room; Angela had dragged him to her room or the den and then out the same way when it was time to scram. Now, she was taking him through the living room, dining room, and kitchen, finally stopping when they were outside on her back deck. "Do you have a joint on you?"

"You want to get high?" He asked hopefully, he'd love to see her in that state.

"I want you to get high. You're too tense and caught up over shit to enjoy yourself. It's spring break, John, light up and mellow out. We're supposed to have fun."

John reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a joint he had rolled the night before.

"Got a light?"

Angela walked to the barbecue and came back with a book of matches. John lit the joint and took a hit. Damn, that was better!

"Here baby," He enjoyed the smoke, trying to get her to take a hit. She refused but surprisingly passed a flask of peach schnapps she had hidden in a seat cushion to him after taking a few hearty sips.

"Good girl, gone bad...I approve" he said with a salacious smirk and she giggled watching him sip off her favorite liquor.

"Damn, that's sweet!" His eyes were a rich, velvety brown that was easy to sink into the depths of. When the joint roached, John licked his fingers and extinguished it, throwing it into her yard.

John glanced up at Angela and saw she was staring at his lips, licking her soft kissable lips. Unable to contain the urge, he stepped forward and kissed her, pulling her close as he fisted her hair in his strong grip.

Angela moaned then honest-to-God rolled against his entire body, grabbing his ass and renewing his morning erection with a vengeance.

"Goddamn baby," He groaned helplessly. Distantly, he heard a noise go off a few times before Angela pulled away, softly swearing.

"Shit, that's the pizza guy, C'mon." She released her grip and pushed him gently away, leaving him very aroused.

John wordlessly followed Angela back to the house. She asked him to get plates and glasses out of the cupboard next to the oven while she paid for the pizza. John was normally sure in his hold, but he was suddenly worried he would break something in this fancy kitchen. He didn't have a single matching plate in his house, and he and Angela were going to eat pizza off freaking China? He cautiously went to the dining room, returning for Cokes from her refrigerator. Angela brought the pizza in and it smelled delicious.

"Bon Appetit," she said as she handed John a slice. It tasted as good as it smelled, which was enhanced thanks to their illicit activity on the back deck. He helped himself to three slices. He'd skipped breakfast and lunch again today, his empty fridge at his apartment gave him no choice. He'd have money for groceries soon, his first check was due in a week.

Angela ate a slice and a half before declaring herself stuffed. John was sure she wouldn't have eaten as much if she weren't so lit up. When she was done, Angela excused herself to wash up. John took advantage to do the same thing at the kitchen sink. He was still hoping to get lucky and didn't need pizza grease all over his fingers and mouth as he made a move.

Leaning against the kitchen sink with his arms crossed, John looked up when she entered the kitchen.

She looked into his eyes when she said, "John, I want to have sex with you tonight."

Without thinking John rushed over, sweeping Angela off her feet, wrapping her legs around his waist, stepping forward until he pushed her up against her Frigidaire. Angela let out a surprised gasp as his mouth latched onto her neck and he trusted hard against her.

He grinds her roughly, pressing his firm length against her panty-clad center, imagining how hot and wet she's getting, knowing she wants it, has probably been thinking about this for days, and he wonders if she was thinking of him when she touched herself this weekend. The friction of his jeans against her crotch felt heavenly but she wanted more.

"Jesus Christ, John!" she panted, easing off him to put her legs down. Her knees are jelly.

"Sweets, just 'John' will do." He grinned wolfishly.

How could he have the brain capacity to make jokes when she could barely remember to breathe? "My room, Let's go to my room." She manages to gently push him. She wanted to level the field a little bit.

John reluctantly agreed, refusing to let go of her waist, "Lead the way, Baby."

Angela took his hand and all but raced to her room. John kept up, maintaining some distance up the stairs to get a good look at her ass. Her perfect ass...

The room was already dim and with the setting sun, he was about to lose all available light.

"Wait," he said as Angela leaned forward. She was about to turn off the little yellow lamp on her nightstand.

"Why?" She turned to him.

"Believe me, I want to see what I'm doing, and you want me to, too." As emotions surged, his voice grew husky, filled with passion.

"Okay," Angela had seen a few movies where the girl lost her virginity and each time it happened in the dark. All of her friends mentioned fumbling in the dark their first time, and it didn't get much better for them any time after.

John kissed her again and wrapped his arms around her, laying her down on the bed. "Do you trust me?" He brushed a stray lock from her face, his touch lingering.

"Yes." A soft sigh escaped her lips, carrying the weight of her affection.

"Then let me show you a good time."