The Calling

Kennedy

Weston's shirt engulfed me as I put it on, standing up, my legs were wobbly and sore. I sat back down bringing my hands to massage my inner thighs.

I can't believe Weston is the reason for my sore legs. My one hand left my thigh, creeping up to the neck of Weston's shirt as I brought it up and over my chin.

It smelt so good, just like Weston. I had never thought about his scent before, but it was a mix of something masculine but also like apples.

Since Weston went into the bathroom, I've played our night back in my head many times. He was so gentle, and he kissed my tear away.

I couldn't think of a better scenario of losing my virginity, I'm glad I waited. When I first decided to wait, I didn't know what I was exactly waiting for, but now I do.

I was waiting for Weston. I wasn't waiting for a certain age, a place, or a feeling. I was waiting for the person, and that person was Weston.

Even if we don't work out in the future, I will still be glad it was him.

I was also surprised at how quickly the pain went away, at first it felt like my center was on fire, but after a couple of minutes, it was a pleasure with a slight sting within every thrust.

When I would open my eyes I would see Weston's face staring down at me, his lips apart, not hiding his moans, and when I looked down I could see his abs contracting as he disappeared inside of me.

My cheeks burned from the thought.

My eyes snapped upward at Weston opening the bathroom door and exiting, he was in grey sweats and a black loose sweater.

"Hi, beautiful. Are your legs hurting?" He smiled softly at me, and I could tell his cheeks were flushed through the little light in the room.

Weston then walked over to me, holding out his arms. "I will carry you down," I lifted my hands, but he pulled his back, smirking at me. "But only if we watch a comedy movie. It's too dark out there for a scary one." I chuckled and gave in. I was not even on my feet for a second before he swooped my legs up, carrying me bridal style.

"Thank you for everything tonight Weston," I told him as we descended the stairs. He looked down at me before opening the back door, "No need to thank me, it's how it should be. You deserve it."

How did I find someone like him? Oh yeah, I had to move into a house full of boys, that's how. Straight out of a romance novel.

We cuddled up on the surprisingly comfy mat he had under us, and he picked some Adam Sandler movie to watch, of course. Weston was laid up on a pillow as my head rested on his chest, his hand around my waist rubbing my sore thighs.

I had sex. I still was having a hard time comprehending that I had sex. I couldn't stop the back of my mind from reminding me of how much Zoey would love to hear about this. I felt a little stab of pain run through my body as I thought about that. She was always going to be the first person I told. I always imagined running to her house, bursting into her room, and telling her. She would run up to me and congratulate me but also have a string of questions to make sure my first time was memorable. That night would have probably ended with her making me a cake that had some sort of joke about losing my V-card on it.

I smiled as I thought about it, but Weston pulled my head out of the fantasy that Zoey and I were friends again. "What's got you smiling so pretty for?" Weston's voice was soft as he looked down at me.

"I'm just happy it was you," I lied. Well not a full lie, I was happy it was him, but I didn't want to ruin the mood with my depressing thoughts.

"I am too, I mean I'm happy it was you as well," I laughed as he made that comment. "You told me you already have had sex with many girls before, what are you talking about?" I smiled at him as he scooted down, getting more comfortable under the covers.