Free Beginnings by Natasha Walker Page A

tiny blond hairs and the pores in her skin, he saw the rosy tint of her aureole appear out of the milky soft flesh.Both nipples were erect and for a moment there was not a sound, not a breath, as his mouth came to rest softly against her breast, his lips making an ‘o’ around her nipple.
    Heat. He flicked his tongue against her nipple, barely touching it. Then she moaned. It was unlike many of Emma’s moans – this one had no prelude. It escaped as naturally as a scream from a fright.
    This moan excited her devious mind. But it also surprised her. The shudder of pleasure that seemed to sound an end rather than a beginning was unqualified and intense.
    The mental pleasure of her seduction had been revealed as a far deeper physical one. This excited her more. Never before had she felt so like her lover. She was beginning to feel the excitement she assumed Jason was experiencing, one that she had failed to experience in her mad rush to experience every pleasure she could. She had never taken her time. Gimme, gimme, gimme … had been her motto. She had never been a boy. She had never been a girl. She had despised normal boys and normal girls. They were complacent and sated. Small pleasures amused them and, to her general dismay, they appeared satisfied with the slow speedof their development. And she still thought that she was right to despise them. She half thought she was right to. The older she got the more she wanted. She wanted more for the Emma of the past and the Emma of the future. Lately she had begun to want to have been the parallel Emma, the Emma who didn’t move at breakneck speed through adolescence. Now she really wanted to experience life timidly. It was something which she had thought was outside the realm of her experience, until now. Now she felt this beautiful new appreciation. This moment with Jason was lived vicariously. His awe was the key. He was living each moment fully aware of the movements of his lover, drawing meaning from them and making judgements from them. He had placed his trust in Emma, knowing and accepting that at times she would betray it or at the very least toy with it, and he relied on her dominance completely.
    That moan had signalled an end of the pretence that she was in control. She had been swallowed whole by her own fantasy and had emerged a part of it. Layers of manipulative planning ceased to exist in one sudden burst of simple pleasure.
    Again his mouth teased her nipple and again she was faced with the sweet pleasures of celebratedinexperience. So many men and women had done just what was being done now and yet … Nothing like it had been done.
    She had kissed more with Jason than she had done for years. Being kissed. Kissing. Jason wanted to kiss her, he wanted never to have to stop kissing her. The teacher was being taught. Each touch of the tongue, each breath and movement was pleasurable and exciting. But these excitements led nowhere. This was the lesson that Emma had had to learn. Kissing was the end in itself. Jason had been more than happy with her kisses. So Jason had altered her as surely as she was altering him. But he did so unnoticed. What she hadn’t counted on and what was most welcome and surprising was the change in her.
    Jason’s breathing was getting faster, he was shaking with the blind and unacknowledged frustration that this unexpected feast was inducing. Running through him was mad desire, an adult lust that he did not know how to act upon. He felt excited and hungry. He felt what his eyes and mouth saw and tasted. He had anticipated a reaction and was rewarded with Emma’s moan. He was fully functional. He could roar like a wild beast. But he shook and his hands, which he raisedto touch her hips and stomach, were weak. He wanted to lie her down and climb onto her. But he was fearful. He wanted to do things he didn’t know about, or was unsure about. He knew what a man did to a woman when they had sex. He’d seen enough porn. What he didn’t