She was convinced it was a lost cause. Stella met Levi in passing, in a college class. It wasn’t reciprocal at first. The voluptuous curves sculpted out of her whisper-soft skin were hidden under a t-shirt three times her size. Levi hid nothing, he never did. He was an athlete and didn’t care whether he appeared that way at first glance or not.
Stella swept the cascade of wheat-field blonde back behind her ears to get a better look at him. He was just under six feet tall and had the strong, broad shoulders of a protector. But his amber eyes, wide as saucers, hung heavy with sadness.
Levi was the kind of man who was defaulted to the friend zone. His personhood never quite aligned naturally with his body. Soul tormenting flesh and vice versa in an interminable feedback loop painfully familiar to all late-blooming adolescents.
Stella was the kind of girl men won’t admit to dreaming about, even though each has at at least one point or another. Usually more than one. Stella was the kind of girl men go for after the girl next door shows her true colors. The kind of girl you get to know over coffee, not in bed.
She didn’t have the sort of beauty that lent itself well to one night stands. Inside and out, she was someone to grow old with. A rich and elaborate tapestry of the beginnings of a person. So put together and self assured that it was easy to overlook her human needs and miss her loneliness.
Levi was reluctant to give Stella his number. Where he came from, girls didn’t corner boys at the end of a long and tedious college class and ask them on a date point blank. He thought he was pretty clear that he wasn’t looking, but she acted as though she didn’t get the signal (he’ll never know that she really didn’t.)
Levi stayed recalcitrant, but it was easier to ignore her texts than have her break down right there in class, so he typed it into her phone with the Starry Night case.
For two months, Levi blew her off. He had too much going on and he didn’t need the complication, the physical and psychological demands, of a woman in his life right then.
Stella was sure he was just after a thinner woman. Why wouldn’t he be? He was an athlete, he was on track to be class salutatorian, he understood the line between chivalry and misogyny. Stella had a hard time wrapping her mind around it, but she’d finally started to move on.
What she didn’t know then is, it had nothing to do with her. Levi’s dad died over the summer.
He couldn’t go to his mother, she was devastated enough as it was. He couldn’t go to his step father, he had always been envious of Levi’s unconditional love for the man who broke in and out of his life while his stepdad remained a constant, even stoically enduring the torrent of verbal abuse his stepson would release when he took out the hurt feelings of abandonment by his biological father.
But something as ethereal and inexplicable as a change in the winds seemed to allow everything to click into place.
Levi saved every text Stella had sent him. He’d bit back his disappointment when, after weeks of him pushing her away, she stopped trying.
He held his breath when he hit send on his first message in months, apologizing for the delay, making a lame excuse.
She responded less than five seconds later. From there, it was a whirlwind. A torrent of confusing, intense emotion for them both.
Levi had had a few girlfriends before. Beautiful ones. But the cosmic connection never blessed those relationships. Even after weeks of dating, he’d feel like he was talking to a stranger.
It was different with Stella. She had no point of comparison, because she’d never dated a man. She’d had unremarkable dalliances with boys, back before she got serious about the studies that landed her a spot in this Ivy League university. But they were more emotionally involved friendships than romantic relationships. In 20 years, she’d only had one open mouth kiss.
But now four months had elapsed between the two of them, and neither knew it yet, but they were well on their way to falling in love.
It was summer now. Stella changed planes three times to get to Levi’s pin-drop small town in Montana. She had one night left before she’d have to return to New York City to finish out her internship. It had been the best week of her life.
That night, Levi had indulged her love of deep conversation. He’d been raised to believe men could only exhibit two emotions without being ashamed, happiness or anger. But Stella drew out of him the most opaque joys and the most profound sadnesses. She made him feel deeper and more completely than he ever would have on his own. The better he got to know her, the better he got to know himself.
Stella had lived a lifetime of bad men. Men who were just after her father’s vast wealth or men who, despite her literary genius and award winning sense of humor, didn’t give her the time of day because she dressed too comfortably and didn’t have time for make up.
Levi was like CPR for her soul. He gave her worth, he gave her purpose, he inflated her self esteem like an industrial air pump. She was in awe of him. He saw her for who she was and embraced all of it. Even the ugliest parts. Even the self loathing parts. Even the biased and short-tempered parts. He loved her back to life. He hadn’t known that until tonight.
Lost in the moment, she divulged her suicide attempt him. Two months before they’d first met. He talked about the accident that took his father for the first time since the night it happened.
The vulnerability was tangible. Each using the other as a sounding board, sharing things as much for the release of saying them out loud as to confide in one another.
Levi and Stella sat up all night talking. They laughed. They cursed. They screamed. Levi cried in the presence of another living soul for the first time since he was 8. When his stepfather caught him tearing up over a dramatic scene in a book, he smacked him so suddenly and so forcefully that a loose tooth fell out. Levi had long since forgiven him. He understood his stepfather could only raise him the way he had been shown.
A droplet seized into a monsoon of tears, leaving Levi shaking in the arms of his first true companion, the first woman truly *in* his life. She wished she could soak up his pain like a sponge. Bandage his psychological wounds and just keep air off them until they’d healed and could never bubble up to hurt him again.
She didn’t know, and he’d probably never tell her, he wasn’t shaking from the trauma he recounted to her that night. He was trembling in fear of how Stella would look at him after seeing him like this. If he’d never be a “real man” again in her eyes.
One of the most sincere and spontaneous compliments she ever offered him was that he made her feel safe. “You’re not just strong in your body, you’re strong in your mind.” Even though he was pretty buzzed when she whispered that to him on the fraternity couch, it was seared into his memory and onto his heart forever, like a favorite song.
He didn’t know, and she’d probably never tell him, Stella had never felt safer with him than when she held the broken fragments of his spirit in her arms that night. It was confirmation enough that he wasn’t reserving the most private parts of himself from her. She couldn’t give herself over fully to a man if she wasn’t sure he wanted to have her.
When the tears had dried, he held her close, hunching over her like a flower whose petals might break off in the wind.
He decided it suddenly, but certainly, they had to get out of that room. The morbidity of the night needed space to air out.
She was half asleep, intoxicated by the sound of his heart beat and aroma of his soap, but he scooped her up and led her to the pickup truck. He knew he’d be in trouble for taking it out without permission, but he didn’t care. “Trouble” carries a lot less weight when you’re 20 and live across the country three quarters of the year.
He knew where he was going, literally and figuratively. He hadn’t been there since sophomore year of high school, but his heart map didn’t lead him astray, he made it to the secluded lookout point without a single missed turn.
He laid a blanket down in the truck bed and they clambered in. He extended his hand to help her up, even though they both knew she didn’t need it.
He laid his head on her shoulder and tried to find the right words to translate his thoughts into something Stella could not only understand, but agree to. He was wasting his energy. As Stella felt the warm vibration of his breathes against her neck, she knew it was time.
She turned to him and, looking just below his eyes at the sharp, freckled, contours of his cheeks, she fixed her pouty lips to say “Kiss me.” The desire roared so loud, but the words were barely audible over the rushing of the nearby stream.
Levi propped himself up on an elbow and leaned over her. This was all too familiar a dance for them. They’d kissed regularly and passionately ever since the second date, where they went to a comic book store.
He slid his left arm around her hips, drawing her in. She shut her eyes and let her lips see for her. Finding his mouth. Wanting to show it appreciation for all the gifts it had given her in the form of meaningful, restorative conversation that night. She held his bottom lip as assuredly as she now held his secrets. Sliding on and off, writing a love letter on him with the malleable peak of her tongue.
He was lost in her. When they first got together it happened every time they so much as brushed against one another in the hall, but now it only came every so often, when both were totally and completely present. He couldn’t tell if he was leading, or she was. It was as though the kiss had been choreographed by Jesus himself. The sweet mountain air flowed through him without having to draw breath. He struggled to find the words to speak his mind. He fought the urge to risk it all. Stella had already decided.
His hands, calloused from sports, yet diligently moisturized, found their way to her butt as they turned on their sides. He pinched the skin just between her legs right before her vagina, where he’d read online a lot of secret nerve endings existed. She dragged her fingertips, ever so lightly, down to the base of his spine.
She repositioned enough to make space for her right hand. She just barely grazed his shaft through the worn fabric of his jeans. It was intentional on her part, but he couldn’t be sure. She got off on teasing him. Feeling him tense up in suspense whenever she made contact.
Hands gently searching, tongues frantically swirling, Levi peeled her top off to expose her cotton-candy pink push up bra. He had never fully understood what his frat brothers meant by “pillow tits” until the first time he saw Stella in a bra. The thrill had not worn off. Even then, he wanted to plunge his face into her breasts and hide out in the soft cocoon of her sensual embrace until all the ills of the world had been cured.
Stella moved to his neck, alternating between tickling nibbles and carnal gnawing. She used the fleshy part of her thumb to brush his hair back behind his ears, in the caring, unhurried way that had first made Levi step back and see Stella as more than a good time.
Levi unhooked her bra with one single motion. Her breasts left him awestruck. Perfect domes of comfort and danger. He planted sloppy kisses down and around her as he stimulated her nipples with his thumbs, like she’d shown him the first time she’d finally agreed to masturbate in front of him.
She left out a soft moan of pleasure, the ones he suspected she’d been suppressing, conscientious of the fact that they were technically in public as they touched each other in the intimacy of the outdoors.
And just like that, his shirt was gone. She didn’t mean to rip it off the way she did, but the animalistic longing building inside of her took control. She cast it to the side as the buttons rattled on the truck bed.
Levi pulled his hands back from his treasure just long enough to let her peel his undershirt off his thick upper body. The moon shined around the edges of her round, pure face as she took in the majesty of the human form that was Levi. An old soul trapped in the body of a young man seeing the world through the eyes of an innocent boy.
They could have gone on this way for hours, they had before, playing with each other until they’d coaxed out at least two vocal-chord constricting orgasms a piece and falling asleep without remembering to set an alarm.
But tonight was different. Stella had already decided and Levi had almost begun to expect.
Levi made a move for her jeans and she tapped his shoulder just how they’d agreed they would when they needed a minute. He drew back “stop?” He asked, slurred with exhaustion and adrenaline.
Stella guided him off her and propped herself up against the truck back. She pressed her forehead against Levi’s and took a long, slow breath. He detected a tremor in her voice that he’d only ever experienced in the earliest days of their relationship, when she was still nervous to say the wrong thing around him. “I want to have sex with you.” She said, with an inflection halfway between a statement and a question.
Forget speechless, Levi was breathless. All he could manage to piece together was a garbled “Me too. Yes. Us. Sex. I want it.” ‘Jesus, I’m more enticing when I’m shitfaced drunk’ he chastised himself in his head, trying to snap into reality enough to compose a coherent sentence.
Stella rubbed his temples. “I need you to know though, I’m—“ he stopped her. He knew. She’d already told him he was the first guy she’d ever been on a real sit down date with. And he knew her well enough to know she’d never have given her virginity to someone she wasn’t dating. “I know.” He whispered back, much more lucid now. “So, just… don’t compare me to the other girls. Because they had an advantage. They were experienced.” He can feel the uncertainty in her voice. He laughed in his own mind, wondering how, after he had only just been up all night telling her things he was too afraid to say to himself, there was anything she’d hesitate to confide in him.
“Me too.” He said in a tone just above a whisper. He had always assured himself when the day came to lose his virginity, he’d lie about it. He had taken it as a shameful failing until he got to know Stella. But in that moment, with this girl he knew even better mentally than he did physically, he understood what his step dad had meant when he cautioned him to “give it to a girl who’s gonna keep it.”
She marveled at his ever widening capacity to make her feel secure. All her apprehensions melted off as she realized her worst fear, that at 20 she’d missed her chance to learn with someone whose body was just as untrained and sensitive as her own, was not to be.
Levi may have been inundated with a lot of Christ driven misogyny from what little male presence he’d had in his life growing up, but it wasn’t all bad. The antiquated views around women in his tumbleweed town had instilled in Levi a deeply unique resolve that he would never, even inadvertently, pressure a girl into sex.
He took her clammy uncertain hands off his belt line and into his own loving and steady hands. “Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked, trying to extinguish all anticipation from his voice. “No.” She said, forcing him to catch a sharp breath. She laid her left hand over his broad, firm pectorals, around where she guessed his heart would be. Her stormy blue eyes met his hurt gaze with tenderness.
“I don’t want this…” she continued, slowly. “I want you.” She lunged at him.
Before the meaning of her words could sink in, Stella’s hands had flown to his belt. Her heart fluttered almost as fast as his while she fumbled with the buckle in the star-speckled dark. She stared right into his eyes as she took her time, teasing, agonizing, heightening, torturing the expectant virile body she had before her.
It was awkward using space the bed of truck. Levi sort of rested on his knees to help her maneuver the jeans around his ankles and off casually to the side. She paused as she took in the sight of him, heart racing, splayed out in his boxers. She used two fingers and four teeth to work them down past his thighs, tight and strong from a winning season.
He never had quite a clear picture for how his first time would go, but of all the different scenarios he’d envisioned, only one common thread linked them all. He’d been on top. Some of the back country morals did stick, and this was one of them. He really hoped she wouldn’t try to take it like this.
But she didn’t. She traced figure eights down his chest, pressing into his baby fat that drove her wet and wild, sucking on the tender spots. The bruises from collision with rivals athletes. The scar from the night his childhood ended. He let her take him, eat him up, drink him in, connect them like her touch left a trail of superglue in its wake.
Her saliva glistened against his sun-kissed skin. All those days of practicing with his shirt off came to a culmination in this moment. Lost in a heat of vapid self admiration, he found himself again as Stella took him in her mouth.
He had been her favorite flavor from the first time. Like a warm, rumpled lollipop. He tasted of sincerity and masculinity and, tonight more than ever, emotion.
She worked her way up, relaxing her throat just as her roommate had helped her learn on a banana freshman year. Creating a dirt-devil quality suction, running her sharp tongue along Levi’s frenulum, cautiously fondling his testicles with her free hand. As she saw his abs begin to tighten and his thighs begin to tremble, she switched it up. She pulled him out of her mouth with a distinct *pop* sound that echoed between the mountains. She moved to his sack, dominant hand stepping in for her lips above, stroking him with the fluid caress of a wave lapping against the shore.
Levi paid careful attention to his body. Stella took him away from his pain. From his second guesses. From his lack of certainty. It was nearly an out of body experience. It was as though she could feel every sensation she brought to his balls, knowing exactly when to press, when to ease up, when to squeeze, when to kiss, when to just pause and stare at him with the primal longing of a drought sufferer at a rain cloud.
She would let the tension build, and just when he thought he couldn’t hold off any longer, she would switch it up. Her sixth sense for his body guiding her down the right path every time. Like his navigating to the lookout. Never a wrong turn. After five journeys just short of the summit, she smiled with her eyes and whispered “alright… let go.” And wrapped her mouth around him, hands working in a slow-motion frenzy. He knew he had to enjoy this moment while it lasted, because there would never be another woman his ego would allow him to submit to, let alone take pleasure in submitting to. He doesn’t remember the first time she decided when he was allowed to cum. Or when he started to like it. They’d only been doing oral for a couple months, but they learned each other’s love last languages remarkably fast. She tells him when to finish just infrequently enough for Levi to enjoy it.
Stella’s 40DDD cups glistened with sweat as Levi released and she gulped down his love with a smile.
Levi laid back and took a couple of deep breathes. Stella laid a hand over his and they basked in the warmth of one another’s company. Vulnerability. Breaths syncing up with one another.
Levi felt around near where his boxers had been tossed aside and said a silent thank you to the heavens when he found the blue Power Aid he’d tossed back there last week. He drank it down as fast as he could, forcing himself to stop just long enough to offer some to Stella. She waved it away, but that simple kindness, acknowledgment of investment in her wellbeing alongside his own, was enough to solidify her decision.
After ten minutes or so more just “being”, Levi’s afterglow had finally subsided enough for him to move his legs again. He pressed up against Stella’s side and dragged a thumb down the line of her voluptuous curves. The things about Stella’s body that kept her up at night with worry were the same things that kept Levi up at night with a sock.
He spread her legs apart and charged face first into her cave. He tried to communicate with touch all the love he would never be capable of conveying with words. Every time he felt her back curve in excitement or felt her thighs tense in ecstasy, his heart, his penis, and his pride got an electric jolt of affirmation.
Stella writhed and giggled under his control. Expertly awakened, her best friend, her boyfriend, her sex symbol, bringing pleasure to places she didn’t even know she had.
Then, like a paper airplane from the universe, she knew. She felt it from the crown of her skull to the pads of her toes. She struggled to eek out a sound “Levi.. Levi, Levi, Levi” it took him a second to realize she was trying to get his attention and not just calling out in gratitude. He looked up, raising his eyebrows. He tripped over his own hormones to find the words he was obligated to utter. “Do… do you want me to stop?”
Before he could complete the sentence she spoke over him. Usually that irritated him to no end. But this was the one thing she could say that he didn’t mind being interrupted by. “I need you now. I want you inside of me.” She begged, voice raspy with an edge of desperation, as though if he didn’t oblige she might just clutch her chest and die right there in the truck bed.
Levi didn’t bother with any more questions. The time for words was done. Actions would speak more articulately and with a clarity sharper than even the most refined wordsmith could ever attain with mere speech.
And just like that, in an instant and 20 and 19 years respectively, Levi and Stella were one. The calluses of his fingers guided his piece, images of health class diagrams racing through his mind as he literally prayed to God he was at least somewhat in the correct area.
She could tell when he found it from the look in his eyes. At once further distant than he’d ever been from her and closer than two people had ever been before. A quiet scream of relief escaped his lips as he entered her. All the air rushed out of her lungs. Stella had never lived anywhere but New England, yet in that cosmic collision of bodies and souls in that truck in rural Montana, she was home for the first time.
He looked at and through her. She did the same. His flowing chestnut waves of hair framing his shoulders like a masterpiece painting. Her mile long eyelashes batting as her cheeks faded pink.
She shifted her hips to get him just where he needed to be. She never would have guessed he was a virgin. She never would have guessed *she* was a virgin. Every touch with him felt so right, so safe, even the most confusing bits seemed familiar as she experienced them with Levi.
For a time they were frozen in motion. Working through it and pausing on one pleasurable sensation, over and over, until they could wrap their minds around it. Stella felt the intensely intimate friction that is only brought about by the touch of someone who knows your soul.
Levi summoned every ounce of strength he could to keep going. Somewhere in his subconscious he knew he would be emotionally depleted once this was over, and he was determined to see Stella cum before he crossed that threshold. Already she’d elevated him to a new dimension that evening, and he’d be two for two at the conclusion. For her sake and for the sake of his masculinity, he needed to hold off.
He gritted his teeth, pouring out sweat and terrified groans and he read Stella for some sign of progress. Finally she spilled, voice cracking “I’m close”. Levi doubled down. Brushing her flax-wheat curls out of her face and delighting in the phosphorescent seizure of his woman, face contorted. Feeling her body and trying to understand how she had never been more tense but never more at ease.
The palms of her hands flew to his upper thighs, pulling him in close. “Harder… deeper” she pleaded, pressing up against all of him. “I want everything. Give me all of it…” her voice trailed off as Levi morphed into rare Darwinian form.
Testosterone coursed through even his tiniest veins, pumping blood and lust into every fiber of every muscles. The more Stella talked, the closer he knew they were getting, together. “You’re the greatest man alive” she whispered as he thrusted fasted, deeper, more passionately and enthusiastically than he could comprehend having strength remaining to. “You’re the only one Levi. You’re the best first ever, you’re mine… Levi. Levi. Levi.” She muttered in blind fantasia, reaching behind absentmindedly to give his balls a light rub or tug every now and again.
He’d never felt more like a man than he did in that encounter. “Ohhh Levi. You’re a God. You’re everything at once.” He intensified. His brain flooded with endorphins as they reached the top of the mountain, clutching each other on the top of a mountain.
He sped up. His internal dialogue drowning out her sweet nothings. He is an icon, a porn star, a maestro, the king! No one was ever or will ever be more desirable than he is in this moment, he’s invincible, he’s a gladiator, he’s at the prime of his life, the peak of his physicality, the tip top of his intellect, he’s a beast, he’s a danger, he’s an expert, he’s unstoppable, a white hot ball of fire erupting at the center of the universe, he’s so alive, he’s never seen or heard or felt so clearly, he could go on forever, he WILL go on forever, he’s… he’s… he’s finished.
All Stella heard, felt, and said to herself in those moments was “I am safe, loved and protected by this man. I am safe, loved, and protected by this man.” As electrifying and inspiring a mantra for her as Levi’s entire self aggrandizing montage was for him.
In a shock so hot it’s freezing, they orgasm in synchrony. Levi releasing all the oxygen from his body, and Stella taking in twice that amount. Both hovering an inch above themselves. Free from their earthly burdens for a long microsecond. Free.
Levi’s arms give out from under him and he rests in the feminine refuge of Stella’s breasts. Heart racing with passion. He stares into her eyes for some time between ten seconds and an eternity. They share a kiss more meaningful and with more subtext than any they had or ever would again.
They lay side by side, heaving. The aura of the moment cloaked over them like shelter. They know they’ve been changed. They must navigate a new terrain as they have never been closer in any sense of that word. But must also comprehend a new distance that has wedged between them, and may hold a space between two parts of themselves forever. They’re interconnected now in a way that cannot be undone.
He was her first. She was his first.
They’ll never be right where they are again.
The heavenly tingle of afterglow envelopes them both like a lingering mist after a storm.
For a while her fingertips just barely overlap with his. But eventually their brains decide they cannot resituate themselves in this new space the bodies occupy until they’ve had rest.
Without speaking, the two simultaneously snuggle up. Heat sticking their bodies together, heat sticking their souls together.
As though a living metaphor for the entire relationship, Stella is the big spoon, another first for Levi. Though he’d only laid besides four girls in his lifetime.
As the sun pierced through cracks in the sky, Levi was relieved to assume his familiar position of “man who handles it” again, wrapping his love in a blanket and laying her across the truck’s back seat. Shielding their nakedness from the light of day and any hikers or tourists who may come with it.
Even fighting over 24 hours worth of exhaustion, they can’t rest meaningfully if they’re apart, and the interior of the truck did not have space for them both. In a haze, Levi forces himself to go through the motions of driving them home and getting indoors.
Wrapping the blanket around them both, they sneak into the house, stepping just so to avoid creaking floorboards and waking his younger brothers.
Once they’re through his doorframe, he hurriedly locks his door and draws his curtains as far back as they’ll go. They fall into bed, facing one another, squeezing so tight they wouldn’t be surprised to merge into a single finite being.
It is in the solace of each other’s arms that Stella and Levi finally allow themselves to taste sweet release. Sleeping in a pretzel of youth, passion, sun rays, and mutual understanding, until two in the afternoon.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/d79b1s/the_relationship_virgins
Great writing!!!
This is art
This captures a mix of young and old soul in such a lovely way.
Beautiful writing. This story is written as only someone who has been in love can write it. There is melody in the prose. Mad respect to you, OP.
Damn! Yessss