This is going to be a three part or maybe more. It's going to deal with the discovery that Sakura and Syaoran have with their bodies. The first part is of Sakura's perspective, the second part will be of Syaoran's perspective which most likely will put this rating to the M part. And the third part is going to deal with discovering each other's bodies and the pleasure they can take from each other.
These different parts are going to be of different lengths, which I believe will be very short. If this goes over the 1500 word mark, it'll be an accomplishment.
RATING: I consider this an almost M rating... which is why this upload is only going to have a T rating at the start. At the posting of the next part, the rating will go towards M as I'll be more explicit, or so I think. If content of masturbation or any type of sexual act offends you, then this is definitely not for you. Others enjoy...
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original card captor Sakura characters... everything else is from my working imagination.
Chapter 1: Hands
I've wondered what it would feel like to have his hands over my skin. No clothing to obstruct the direct touch that would set my skin on fire. Just that thought alone has made my breath shallower and my dreams deeper than they had been before.
It's around 3 AM and I'm currently in my room. I've thrown the covers over the side of my body, as the heat it encases me is too much to support for a great length of time. I woke around half an hour ago, perspiration covering my skin, my position down, towards the bed, and with a pulsing sensation in between my thighs.
I think I just had one of those dreams. Or maybe I just got aroused during my sleep cycle and woke to find the aftermath of it still in my body.
I am 15 years old at the moment and I have discovered that my body and my mind are changing.
I believe it would be redundant to point out that I know how most of my body works because of school and books that I have taken out on the subject of my changing body and its new desires. It's a bit difficult to talk to someone close to you that is mature and contentious of your position if your mother is dead.
Most of my experiences have been with my boyfriend. He has been my only one since we were 11 years old, making our relationship one of the longest ones in our school. We are always teased around by the fact that unlike most couples our age; we seem to keep our relations to ourselves.
Lately I've been noticing that Syaoran is uncomfortable around me. I believe that it comes with physical discomfort and not with any underlying problems that deal with a relationship itself. I believe we know enough about ourselves to feel comfortable talking about any problems that we might have.
Still, he doesn't have an older male to which confide his troubles. I'm confident that he is experiencing the same changes in his own body just like I'm going through mine. Also, amount in his bashfulness to any type of intimacy, especially around others, and you'll see the imminent source of the problem.
I move my arms around the bed, as the heat of the bedding is making it uncomfortable to keep my limbs in one place. I spread about, lifting my knees so that the underlying skin of my legs will get some respite from the material. Frustration toward the air speed my resolve.
Lurching upwards from the bed, I turn on a fan by my bedside table and take off my shirt and sleeping shorts. I keep my working out bra on, as well as my underpants; I can't really sleep in the nude as others.
Nude... that word brings about a bit of snippets from my dream.
I was nude in there, while a male figure that I couldn't identify was touching me in very private places. Trying to bring to focus any of the images, I supply the figure of the person I'm most interested in seeing naked with me.
I wonder how he would react if I told him about my dream.
I chuckle at the thought. He'd turn scarlet for sure. And then he would excuse himself from my company and probably try to bring himself under the control that he so desires when he's around me.
I like it when he loses control around me. It's like he can't help himself when we're alone without supervision. We haven't really done anything for now, but I believe that one of these days we might finally get to something new. I think that's what he fears at the moment.
Every time that I find his lips on mine, our mouths covered with each others wants and desires, I feel frustration begin to mount around my insides. My heart thuds as if in a race against itself, which it cannot win. My blood in turn rushes to different places in my body that don't usually do for any type of activity. My fingertips tingle with the feel of the hair on his arms and the more pronounced covering on his neck from mine.
Rushing my hand through his locks, which feel like silk to my fingers, is just enough to make me want to bury my face in his hair and breathe in his essence.
I've noticed lately that his face is getting rougher. His features remain the same, only leaner, as if loosing that baby fat that rounded his cheekbones to a smile. The texture of his collarbone has become a fetish of mine lately. I can't seem to help myself from rubbing my own cheeks against his, as some stubble seems to form when he forgets to shave sometimes. I think those are my favorite days.
He lets me get away with putting my hands on his jaw line because he likes to please me, but every time I graze my knuckles down the side of his face, I can hear his breath catching. I know he loves it in the end, but doesn't like to appear so affected by our connection to our peers while in school.
I can understand that. But lately, when we've been alone he's been putting a distance between our bodies. I know we're only teenagers, but just a bit of a change is what might draw him out of his shell. Then maybe she truly didn't want to let the stray wolf out of his own cage. That could be dangerous.
Letting her thoughts drift toward a blank mind, she relaxed her body to the refreshing bursts of air that blew over her warmth body as the fan circled the stuffed room. Shifting restlessly from side to side, I can't help but think of the last time he had actually gotten carried away.
Or maybe it was that he thought he had gotten far enough. Or in the end, he might just be waiting for a sign from her that it was okay to go into the next level.
Ok, so he lived in a house all by himself with a caretaker that came in every day to keep the house in rights and make him dinner, while he was in school or busy with other activities. Having a big house with many unoccupied rooms was truly a blessing for a couple of teenagers that liked their privacy when they wanted to be alone.
He just basically sits there, waiting to see if I want any of his attentions.
I must say that I desperately do. I don't really know what to do with myself when I feel like jumping him and he looks at me as if I was the one in charge. And in a way I think I am. He's a very nice guy. And I mean that in all compliments. It's just the way he treats me that makes up for any of his shyness.
I keep thinking back, the last time we were alone, I'd finally caught his attention from our homework and got him to make-out with me. My god I love his kisses. I love that guy to pieces. He makes me feel as if walking on clouds and his kisses taste of a succulent unknown substance that make my toes curl.
We'd pushed toward the resting futon by the low table and we'd kissed like no tomorrow. Our hands had wandered toward each other's bodies, curiosity being part of a teenagers mind. We'd touched different places, trying to discern the differences that astounded our emotions as we felt their contours.
He'd felt hard and muscled. Each time he moved an inch, multiple muscles moved on different places in his chest, arms and legs.
I'd never seen him so enthusiastic about this type of connection we were having. And then he stopped touching me. His eyes were clearing from the haze that mine still remained covered. His hands were roaming two very different places of my body he had never dared to touch before. His right hand was on my breast, gently cupping it, while his other was grabbing my ass while one of his knees lay separating my legs.
He'd been tracing the round shape of it, while firmly pressing me against his body. The different sensations that had overtaken me by surprise by his perusal had rendered my hands immobile. My arms were shaking, trying to stay upright so that I wouldn't fall over completely over hi frame.
He's a strong guy. No one knows that better than me, but I think that letting myself fall onto him completely would just render me completely immobile.
"I wish he hadn't felt so compelled to apologize for something that was much my doing as his," I mused it aloud as I flashed back to when he had pressed against me the first time. I felt the differences that lay in between the male and female of my species, and got the impression that he was savoring the feeling of my lower body pressed against his as well.
But to Syaoran, control meant a lot.
That in turn did nothing to satisfy my curiosity over my need of information toward what was happening inside my body. He'd spread his thighs over the floor while I was pressed hard over his arousal. I'd experienced a high that I had never felt before in my life.
Curiosity killed the cat, but there was nothing that could be done to control mine.
My hands were warm to the touch. I closed my eyes as I recalled the way his hands had cupped mine. I tried to reinvent the motion, but it was utterly impossible. It be quite different if my hands were cupping my breasts instead of his. His were longer, bigger, rougher.
His hands. I smiled as I remembered how they had trailed from the side of my hips and moved toward my breasts. I pushed my legs together, an aching burn starting to form as it had before. I was aroused once again.
I turned to face downwards. With my body to the bedspread, I pushed my pelvis toward the bed. The sensation still hummed within me. "How do you take care of this," I couldn't help it. The frustration with the situation was getting to me. This was al too new to me to be able to calm down quickly.
I remember something I've read. While looking for information on my condition, I stumbled over a variety of books that talked a lot about satisfaction. She'd rather it came from him, but she was ready to explode inside. Pressing my mouth toward the pillow, I let my hand reach lower toward my panties.
I traced my sex slowly, and totally inexperienced of what I could receive, or do. My hand cupped it, my fingers going back and forth over the opening traced over the lace. My moans were muffled over the pillow, but my body was out of control.
Still, the push was enough to evoke my fervor, but I knew that the end was not going to be near with this. I muffled my sob, a cry as the heart beat that bounded my blood, was also pulsing through my fingers. Each beat was louder than the other, while a feeling of emptiness I'd never experienced before emerged through my body.
My hands moved on their own, as if knowing exactly where to go.
my fingers probed. It was a place that had never been touched before like this. In my mind I scrambled back to the memory from before. My eyes closed again, with his image hovering over me. I'd spent endless hours staring at his form to be able to solicit him from memory.
He smiled at her as he leaned forward to her face and traced small kisses from the corner of her mouth to her collarbone. She could feel one of his hands on her breast, while the other trailed her stomach and grabbed her with such force that she arched against his touch.
Her hands wondered to the places where she imagined his touch.
He whispered her name on her ear, while working his way toward her breasts with his mouth. Every little kiss left a bit of nerves tinkling, the wet trail humming against the air the fan was circulating on her person.
His hand trailed inside her panties, coming in contact with the protective hair that encased her secret place. It'd now be his secret place, it was there to be pleasured by him and to pleasure him in return.
His calloused fingers rubbed her almost raw. Her mouth opened in gasps as a finger tentatively entered her folds. Her chest moved in a fast rhythm. Her mind was wiped from reality as the finger moved inside her nub. A thumb rubbed against another part, something that felt hard every time that the hand came into contact with it.
A final gasp left her throat as her vision completely blurred and a rush that she'd never experienced coursed through her body as it completely crashed against the linen on her bed. Her breathing was ragged, her vision still cloudy from the release, and her muscles completely out of commission.
"So that's what that is," she murmured to herself as her sweat glued her lightly to her clothing and the bedding. Her perspiration reached and clouded her hair, which was matted to her school. Both the warmth of the night with the exercise she had just experienced had made her wish for a relief of another kind.
Recuperating from shock, she pulled her hands from her body and let them rail over her stomach. Her eyes closed, recalling the image of Syaoran over her, of his hands inside her panties and bringing her closer toward oblivion.
She knew it was merely an image, still, she wondered how high she could go if he was the one actually touching her and fanning the flame that he had uncovered in her body.
Turning toward the side, her eyes shifted toward the window. The tree outside was moving side to side with the hot wind that had filled the city. She closed her eyes, her thoughts wondering to nothingness, expecting sleep to overtake her.
Unknown to her, a very awake Syaoran was wrestling with his own mind just a couple of blocks away.
It seemed the warmth of the night had awakened their bodies.
Ok, so that was kind of strange. Uh. Expect the next part which will plunge this story into the M rating. You should check for an update of it around Friday, most likely posted on Saturday.
Next Part: Syaoran has just had a wonderful experience. He'd just found himself with the greatest dream he'd had in the last few months. His relationship with his now four year girlfriend was changing, but she was still naive about many things. In the end he recalls different things that he'd been shown as he came of age by the men in his clan.
Chapter 2 : Mouth
I certainly hope it'll be better to write than this that actually became longer than anticipated. I believe the next part will not be as long.
Leave a review with your thoughts. Hated it? Loved it? Want more? Let me know and I'll see what I can come up with.