mouth to my breasts. When he lifted his head again, he pulled me against the length of his body, and I could feel him hard against my belly. I was afraid, and closed my eyes as he slipped my pants down over my legs. And then he began to tease me with his fingers. I had never felt anything like it before. I stiffened, clamping my thighs against his hand, and then I looked up into his face and tried to say his name.
He took his hand away, and easing my legs apart, he lay down on top of me. Then very slowly I felt myself opening to him, pulling him towards me, until with one gentle push we were together. He touched his lips against mine, then pushed again. I gasped at the pain, and he stopped.
‘Are you all right?’ he whispered, looking down into my face.
I nodded, and my whole body swelled with love as we started to move together. He pushed his hands underneath me and lifted me closer to him. And as I wound my legs around his, he started to move faster until his breathing became laboured and heavy, and then he called out my name as with one final push he fell against me.
I wrapped my arms around him, holding him still. Our bodies were sticky and damp, and his heart was thudding against mine, but I didn’t want him to pull away yet. He lifted his head to kiss me, and I felt his tears against my cheeks.
Finally he moved away. I knew immediately that something was wrong, and I was terrified that he regretted what we had done. I had given myself to him so easily, what if he despised me for it now? I wanted to speak as I watched him sitting there on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, but my tongue was paralysed with fear.
‘Tell me what I have to do,’ he whispered. ‘Tell me what it is you want.’
When I didn’t answer, he turned to look at me. ‘You’re so beautiful, Elizabeth, and what you have just given me . . . But it must be the same for you.’
I closed my eyes against the surge of relief, and reached out my arms to him. ‘Just be here,’ I. whispered, ‘all you have to do is be here.’
‘But I can give you more,’ he insisted. ‘I know I can. Tell me, show me how to do it.’
‘I don’t know,’ I answered.
He looked into my eyes and I saw the doubt in his. ‘Can I try?’ he said.
I nodded, and as he started to stroke my body and then push his fingers between my legs, I suddenly knew what it was he had to do. So taking his hand, shyly, I held it where it was. ‘There,’ I said. ‘Just there.’ And as he touched me, and began to stroke me again, I experienced something so beautiful I could never even begin to describe it.
We slept for a while and when I woke up his fingers were tracing tiny circles around my nipples. He was frowning, as if he couldn’t really believe what was happening to my body, then he smiled when he realised I was watching him.
‘Can I make love to you again?’ he whispered.
Later, after I’d been downstairs to fetch tea and sandwiches, we talked, and I tried to pretend I was angry when he told me he’d looked in my diary before leaving school, and that was how he’d known where to find me.
‘It’s no use you frowning at me like that, Elizabeth,’ he said, sitting naked on the end of the bed and ripping apart a turkey sandwich with his teeth. ‘I know you were glad to see me. You were, weren’t you?’ he added when I didn’t answer.
I shrugged. ‘Sort of.’
‘Sort of?’ he choked. ‘Then I’d hate to think what physical state I’d be in now if you’d been really glad to see me. And stop looking at me down there, you know what it does to me.’
‘I’m not looking at you anywhere,’ I objected. ‘Now tell me, what about your parents, where do they think you are?’
He shrugged. ‘In London.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Well, not sleeping with the junior matron of Foxton’s, that’s for sure.’
I stopped smiling. ‘Don’t, Alexander, please don’t say that.’
‘I’m sorry. They think I’ve come down to see a show with
He took his hand away, and easing my legs apart, he lay down on top of me. Then very slowly I felt myself opening to him, pulling him towards me, until with one gentle push we were together. He touched his lips against mine, then pushed again. I gasped at the pain, and he stopped.
‘Are you all right?’ he whispered, looking down into my face.
I nodded, and my whole body swelled with love as we started to move together. He pushed his hands underneath me and lifted me closer to him. And as I wound my legs around his, he started to move faster until his breathing became laboured and heavy, and then he called out my name as with one final push he fell against me.
I wrapped my arms around him, holding him still. Our bodies were sticky and damp, and his heart was thudding against mine, but I didn’t want him to pull away yet. He lifted his head to kiss me, and I felt his tears against my cheeks.
Finally he moved away. I knew immediately that something was wrong, and I was terrified that he regretted what we had done. I had given myself to him so easily, what if he despised me for it now? I wanted to speak as I watched him sitting there on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, but my tongue was paralysed with fear.
‘Tell me what I have to do,’ he whispered. ‘Tell me what it is you want.’
When I didn’t answer, he turned to look at me. ‘You’re so beautiful, Elizabeth, and what you have just given me . . . But it must be the same for you.’
I closed my eyes against the surge of relief, and reached out my arms to him. ‘Just be here,’ I. whispered, ‘all you have to do is be here.’
‘But I can give you more,’ he insisted. ‘I know I can. Tell me, show me how to do it.’
‘I don’t know,’ I answered.
He looked into my eyes and I saw the doubt in his. ‘Can I try?’ he said.
I nodded, and as he started to stroke my body and then push his fingers between my legs, I suddenly knew what it was he had to do. So taking his hand, shyly, I held it where it was. ‘There,’ I said. ‘Just there.’ And as he touched me, and began to stroke me again, I experienced something so beautiful I could never even begin to describe it.
We slept for a while and when I woke up his fingers were tracing tiny circles around my nipples. He was frowning, as if he couldn’t really believe what was happening to my body, then he smiled when he realised I was watching him.
‘Can I make love to you again?’ he whispered.
Later, after I’d been downstairs to fetch tea and sandwiches, we talked, and I tried to pretend I was angry when he told me he’d looked in my diary before leaving school, and that was how he’d known where to find me.
‘It’s no use you frowning at me like that, Elizabeth,’ he said, sitting naked on the end of the bed and ripping apart a turkey sandwich with his teeth. ‘I know you were glad to see me. You were, weren’t you?’ he added when I didn’t answer.
I shrugged. ‘Sort of.’
‘Sort of?’ he choked. ‘Then I’d hate to think what physical state I’d be in now if you’d been really glad to see me. And stop looking at me down there, you know what it does to me.’
‘I’m not looking at you anywhere,’ I objected. ‘Now tell me, what about your parents, where do they think you are?’
He shrugged. ‘In London.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Well, not sleeping with the junior matron of Foxton’s, that’s for sure.’
I stopped smiling. ‘Don’t, Alexander, please don’t say that.’
‘I’m sorry. They think I’ve come down to see a show with
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