“Have you ever slept with anyone?” The question falls into the silence of the mild night, a pebble tossed into the water of our togetherness.
We sit on the wooden dock, legs dangling over the dark water. The air smells of algae and damp wood, mixed with the sweet scent of his deodorant. Lukas has his head tilted back, staring at the sky as if he’d only commented on the weather. But I feel the weight of his words.
“Do you mean… generally or with you?” My voice sounds thinner than I want it to, like the chirping of a single cicada.
He turns his head to me, a crooked smile on his lips. “Generally.”
I swallow. We’ve known each other for three weeks, since the first lecture. Every day we’ve studied together, talked, laughed. But this is different. Since we arrived at the lake two hours ago, a tension has hung in the air that has nothing to do with the cicadas. It’s the crackling between our bodies, the quiet promise of skin on skin.
“No,” I say softly, looking at the black water. “Never.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re twenty.”
“Yes, really. I just… waited.” For whom? For what? The question hangs unspoken between us.
Lukas says nothing. Instead, he slides closer until his thigh touches mine. The touch burns through the thin fabric of my shorts, an electric shock that jolts all the way into my belly. “And now?” he asks, his voice deeper than before, like a murmur beneath the water’s surface.
“Now… I’m not so sure anymore what I was waiting for.”
He places a hand on my knee. The warmth of his fingers is like a small electric shock that flickers from my kneecap to my hip. “I don’t want to pressure you,” he says, and I hear the truth in his voice. “But if you’re ready… I’d like to be your first.”
My heart hammers against my ribs, a wild rhythm that drowns out the cicadas. I turn to him, see his eyes in the faint starlight. They’re gray, almost silver, and in this moment full of seriousness. No game, no cliché. Just him and me and the night.
“Yes,” I whisper, and the word feels like a leap into cold water. “I’m ready.”
He leans forward and kisses me. Softly at first, then more probing. His lips taste of salt and something sweet—the lemonade we drank earlier. His hand slides from my knee to my thigh and stays there, a heavy, warm weight. I feel each finger like fire burning through the fabric. The kiss deepens, his tongue finds its way between my lips, and I open to him, let him in. A soft moan escapes me as his hand moves higher, until it reaches the edge of my shorts. He hesitates, asks with his eyes, and I nod almost imperceptibly.
His fingers slide under the fabric, brush over my panties, which are already wet from the arousal building inside me. He feels it, a slight grin on his lips, and I’m embarrassed for a moment, but the feeling is overlaid by a hot pulsing that radiates from his touch. “You’re already so wet,” he whispers in my ear, and his voice makes me shiver. “That makes me so fucking horny.”
I can’t answer, too focused on his hand, which now strokes over the damp fabric of my panties. He presses gently, and I feel my pussy twitch under his touch, an involuntary clenching that makes me crave more. “Come,” he says and stands up, offering me his hand. “Let’s go to the cabin.”
The Cabin
The cabin belongs to his parents—a small wooden building twenty meters from the shore. Inside, it’s cool, smells of old wood and mothballs, mixed with the scent of dried herbs. Lukas lights a candle, its flame casting shadows dancing across the walls. There’s only one room: a bed, a table, two chairs. No curtains, just the darkness outside that envelops us.
I stand uncertainly in the middle as he turns around and looks at me. “Are you sure?” he asks, and I nod, even though my knees go weak. He steps in front of me, places his hands on my shoulders. “Then let me undress you.”
It’s not a question, but an invitation. His fingers find the hem of my T-shirt and pull it slowly upward. The fabric grazes my skin, and a shiver runs down my back. I raise my arms, and for a moment I’m naked to the waist, only my bra left. His gaze travels over my skin, and I see his Adam’s apple move, how he swallows.
“You’re beautiful,” he says softly, and the words feel like a touch.
I blush—I feel it all the way to my toes, a warmth that comes from within. He opens the bra with a fluid motion that surprises me. The straps fall, the fabric loosens, and my breasts are bare. The air of the cabin brushes over my skin and makes my nipples hard, two small goosebump mounds.
Lukas bends his head and takes one into his mouth. A shiver shoots through me—not a back-tingle, but a deep pulling that radiates from my chest down to my lower belly, a thread of lust. His tongue circles the tip, first gently, then demanding, a wet, warm play. I grab his hair, which feels soft and thick, and press him tighter against me.
“Lukas…” My moan is quiet, but it fills the room.
He continues, switches to the other breast, while his hand massages the first, a gentle kneading that pulls me even deeper into the sensation. My knees get weaker, and I have to hold onto his shoulder. He feels it, straightens up, and leads me to the bed. The mattress is harder than I thought, the sheet smells of fabric softener and something tangy that smells like him.
He sits beside me, pulls off his own shirt. His chest is lean but defined—a narrow strip of dark hair runs from his navel downward, an arrow pointing down. I place a hand on his chest, feel his heartbeat, fast and strong under my fingers. “You take yours off too,” I say, and my voice sounds firmer now.
He grins and stands up, opens his pants with a gesture so natural it’s like breathing. The shorts fall, the boxers follow. His cock already stands erect, the head dark and wet, a drop of pearl at the tip. I hold my breath. It’s the first time I’ve seen a naked man this close, and I want to take him in, with all my senses. His dick is long and thick, the veins tr
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