|After the First Time
Author: McGonagall's Bola PM
What might have gone on in Hanna's head recalling pieces of her life after her and Michael's first time. Hanna/Michael -REWRITTEN!Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Spiritual - Words: 1,335 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 1 - Published: 08-15-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6239913
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hanna had never known her mother or father. For all she knew they were dead, or alive; they might have been rich or poor. However, she thought that they could have been or were poor…or maybe a girl or any child just hadn't been wanted. She had lived in the orphanage where her mother had left her. Baby Hanna had been discovered on the doorstep on October 23, 1922. She had been taken care of there; had grown up between the screaming and running of at least twenty other orphans. Not many had gone. Hanna thought she had maybe seen six or seven go, that she recalled at least. She didn't recall much of her first life years. The earliest memories began when she was about seven, when she had fought so often with a girl named Ellie. Ellie had been younger by a year. She had still been there when Hanna had run away at the age of fifteen. That's when she could no longer take the business, the screaming and running of the others. And day by day, more children were delivered at the orphanage; especially when the beginning of the war had lingered above them more children were left at the doorstep. That, together with the bad financial and other times, caused famine. They had had to share just so little with so many. And thus Hanna had thought she could be better off to run away.
She had lived poor for half a year after running away, and never got why she had survived it. By the time she had found a job as a conductor on the tram, even though she was still young and had lost much of the natural beauty she had had due to having to eat remains from others' rubbish, and having to wash herself and the little of clothes she had had in dirty lakes, she was so skinny her ribs could be counted if she was entirely naked or wearing something of which the fabric was thin enough. She had had two old attires.
Hanna had doubted about selling herself to men before having found the job, and soon after the studio. She really had been lucky that it hadn't come to that. No man would have wanted her the way she had looked like then either way. It was just something you didn't need to know how to read or write for, and that seemed very good for Hanna. She actually could neither. She had lived in poverty; hadn't had the money for tutoring or school. The women who had taken care of her at the orphanage had had no more wisdom than she either.
She rolled from her side on her back in bed and thought about what had happened earlier. She had never seen a man naked before. She didn't know if she could call him a man since he was indeed just a kid still going to school, and wondered if there was any difference. All she knew about men and about being with them was what she had heard of other girls at the orphanage. Not just a few had left the building at night to wander onto the streets to gather some more money. It had been quite needed.
She had heard from others about hard-ons, about men's pieces being rock hard and pointing upright when they were aroused. She had heard about alcoholic men not being able to do this. She had heard it was needed for sexual intercourse.
Hanna had been unknowing because of the silence of the women at the orphanage about anything to do with sex. She had known things too fast at the same time by listening carefully at the older girls with whom she shared rooms. They had laughed at her when she began screaming thinking she was going to die when one morning she had woken up in bloody sheets, announcing her very first period. The women at the orphanage had said she was just becoming a woman; that every girl would go through that, and that she should put folded old cloths in her underwear to catch the blood. They needed to be washed after use and could be re-used later. It was therefore necessary to have some reserve.
The few older girls had told her later that this meant women could get with child, when being with a man; that this meant she was ready to carry one. She had never asked any of the elder girls how they had all known this, but she assumed that they must have picked it up on their turn on the streets.
Hanna had heard about how good it felt when a man pounded into you hard, and how much deeper he could go when one leg was in his neck. She had heard about how good it felt to be on top and hop up and down, and have all leverage.
She quietly closed her eyes and recalled how amazed she had been when the kid had picked her up and carried her to the bed; how he had kissed her all over. His lips had run into her neck, to the sensitive, ticklish skin underneath her ear. They had wandered down to the valley between her breasts. She had opened her eyes and seen him gazing at them; had run the palm of his hand to push it upward, and had used his thumb to stroke across the aroused, hardened nipple. She had released moans, and a cute crooked smile had come over his lips, before leaving kisses everywhere on her abdomen; right above her navel, and down. She had willingly opened her legs to allow him down there… to push his lips into the curly darker hair and kiss her mound all over. She doubted that he had ever seen a woman naked, too.
A lot of things had happened that the girls had never talked about. They had never talked about the tingling sensation a woman felt when a man was near; about the urge to cry in pleasure when he kissed between her legs. They had never talked about the pain either; the pain one could feel when he pushed himself inside you. Hanna had wondered how it was possible something like that could ever feel good. The kid had been careful as well as impetuous, though. He had been a bit too fast to push his length into her maybe, but he at least had been kind enough to make sure she was fine. He had meant it, too. She had seen the worry creased between his brows. She had nodded at him, lead him backward and forth so that she could feel the moving between his sex and hers. The pain had receded and gone over in building pleasure.
A very soft smile came on her lips as she thought of how impetuous he actually could be. He had learned how it must be done easily, and had no longer needed her guidance. He had gone harder when she had urged him to. Hanna recalled how he had suddenly driven inside her full force to try pleasure her after she had mentioned to go harder. It had hurt briefly again, but had gone over soon as well. She had moved on top, and indeed she was forced to say the girls had been right. It indeed had felt good to be the one in charge. It indeed had felt good to hear a man groan in joy underneath you and know you were the one causing it.
Hanna's eyes opened again. She was still hurting and bleeding slightly after this first time, but not that much to worry about. This was something else the girls hadn't mentioned, but she knew that it would be fine. In fact, tonight was the very first time in years she had worried so little as now.