The Toll (5 page)

“
Oh, love,” he groaned, his
hands running underneath my thick woolen gown, brushing my bloomers
as he made his way straight to the juncture of my
thighs.

“
Trystan,” I mumbled
against his lips uncertainly, pausing as things grew too
serious.

“
Let me make you feel
better,” he murmured huskily as his fingers dug their way through
the slit in the cotton fabric, finding the opening. “Oh, Daph, are
you wet for me?”

Was I
wet
?
Where?
There?
No.
I shook my head, but I didn’t
think he’d noticed.
And as for myself, I
was too busy being scared and uncertain, and about a million other
things, all at once, to be ‘wet’, as he put it.

This was not at all like my
friends had told me.
Were they
lying?
There was no tingling, warm feeling
in my woman’s place, only the sensation of his sandpaper rough
fingers running across my clit searchingly, roughly.
Frankly, it hurt.

Two thick, long fingers clumsily found
my opening and pushed at the entrance to my sex.

Shocked at the sudden, abrupt entry of
his overlarge digits, I cried out.

“
Yes, just like that,” he
muttered, shoving his thick, chafing fingers in farther.

“
Ah! Trystan, wait,” I
pressed, but he had his face smashed up against my neck and his
groaning was louder than my soft, unsure, whimpered
pleas.

As my voice grew louder he smothered
my next cry with his mouth, and I winced as he shoved his fingers
in punishingly, all the way in, tunneling deep and hard.

Something deep inside me hurt at his
invasion, a sharp, harsh pain that had me digging my nails into his
back, biting my lip to keep from crying out again, lest he gag me
with his tongue and lips a second time.

“
It hurts,” I managed to
gasp between his frantic pecks and nips at my lips.

His kisses were getting sloppier and
sloppier as he pressed his hard length into my thigh and thrust
himself lustily against me.

“
It won’t for long, Daph,
and then it will feel really good.” He didn’t pause as he mumbled
reassurances into my now tangled hair.

Wanting so much to believe him, I let
him keep up his quick stabbing motions with his sausage like
fingers into my womanhood, assured that what he said was right.
He’d never been wrong before, but I was beginning to doubt him as
his ministrations just seemed to irritate my sensitive flesh
further.

In, out, in, out, wince, grimace,
wince, grimace.

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

It didn’t feel good at all, and I was
on the verge of telling him so, my sensitive lady tissues aching
and swollen, pained, as if that area were on par with raw, ground
up meat.

His humping at the crook where my
thigh meets my pelvis wasn’t faring all that well either, his eager
thrusting into it like being stabbed with the blunt end of a shovel
handle. Only difference was, I was certain the shovel end would
have broken off by now, he was ramming so hard.

“
Are you going to soon? I
can’t hold out much longer.” His thrusts grew shorter and his
fingers slowed as they pounded into me.
Going to what? Hurt any less, like you’d promised?
No.

His hands left my sex suddenly, and I
was grateful, relieved even.

Groaning, I let out a sharp breath as
he pulled them from my depths, the wet sucking sound of them
leaving my body making me both curious and afraid to have a peek
down there.

“
Hold out for what?” I
mumbled faintly as he sat up, wiping his hand off on my ruined
bloomers. Without acknowledging me with even a cursory response, he
pulled the placket of his pants open, shoving his trousers and
drawers down his thickly muscled thighs as he exposed himself to
me.

At the sight of it, I shot
up, eyes going wide as saucers as I got a good eyeful of
him—
him-him—
and I
scrambled quickly, crab-walking backwards.

“
Trystan…” I stuttered,
“Uh, love... I don’t...”

Eagerly, he palmed himself, running
his fingers over his foreskin as he pulled it back, exposing the
angry, reddened head of his cock to me.

“
I want you so badly, Daph,
can’t you tell?” Clear fluid leaked from the tip as he swallowed
hard, his hand running up and down his length in his big fist as he
watched me intently, hungrily.

My eyes bulged and my
throat felt tight.
That won’t fit!
I almost shouted.
It
won’t!

Warnings like:
Run!
Kept shooting off
in my head, but I couldn’t. He’d surely catch me. It just wasn’t
possible.

Releasing himself, he got on his hands
and knees and crawled towards me, cock bobbing along in his wake,
his pants dangling around his ankles, hobbling him as his eyes
locked on the ‘v’ of my thighs.

He must have ripped my pantaloons at
some point, and they were gaping open, the stitches having been
torn, exposing my naked flesh to his eager eyes.

“
Don’t look at me like
that,” he admonished on a chuckle, his eyes shooting up to mine as
I slowly closed my thighs, clenching them tight as I squawked in
protest. “It will fit. I’ll make it.”

My faith in him thoroughly shaken, I
swallowed hard and tried to quell my pounding heart, trying to beat
right out of my chest.

“
What, uh,” I cleared my
throat nervously, “what are you planning on doing,
then?”

“
I’m going to make us one,”
was all he said, the predatory gleam in his eyes letting me know he
was going to do
exactly
what I thought he was. And all I could come up
with at that moment was—
he’s going to fuck
me in half. With…
I glanced down.
With... that.

“
But we can’t, we aren’t
married yet.” I stumbled suddenly and flopped back, hitting a hole
in the ground under my wrist.

Sprawled on the hard, packed dirt,
flat on my back, he was already over my legs, opening them wide to
wedge his thick thighs between.

“
We will be,” he glanced
down at my sex, “soon.”

My elbow buckled as I struggled to get
back up, but once again I went toppling backwards. Trystan came
tumbling after.

“
We have to wait! Trystan!”
I squeaked as I felt him settle himself down over me.

His hot, hard length bobbed against my
thigh, heavy and thick, wanting, and I panicked. I’d managed to
shove my hand between us and gripped him tight when he would have
stuck his penis inside me. My fingers couldn’t even completely curl
around it, he was so engorged.

It was huge!

Either unwilling to take note of it,
or uncaring altogether of the gravity of the situation, he groaned
appreciatively and thrust into my fingers, which were angling him
over my stomach, fingers curved around him to hold him out and away
from my poor, abused lady parts.

He didn’t seem bothered at all by the
barrier I’d put up, maybe even pleased with it.

“
Just like that. Oh, god.
So good,” he moaned, shuddering in ecstasy, his eyes shut tight. “I
love when you touch me. Yes, like that.”

Uhm, I’m going with the
latter.
He
definitely
likes it.

His hand reached up and he pawed at my
breast through my dress, more of a mauling than anything, gripping
my breast and squeezing a little too hard, too wound up in his own
moment to realize those were groans and whimpers of pain I was
making, not pleasure.

Grimacing, I shifted underneath him a
little as he grew rather boisterous in his attentions into my hand,
hoping to move my sex farther away from his battering ram of a
cock—of which was bucking wildly, determinedly into my
fingers.

Just a few moments later, his body
shuddered over mine and he choked out my name. Blinking up at him,
wondering what exactly had just happened—though, really, I already
knew—I soon found a warm, sticky liquid covering my closed fist,
still stubbornly wrapped around his shaft, bathing my fingers and
wrist with his release.

This part was completely
accurate—
per the ladies’ information on
the marriage bed—
but everything else
they’d said, up until that point, was confusing, and not at all
what I found I’d experienced, and now I had to question
it.

Panting and trembling,
Trystan fell down on top of me in a sweating, stumbling heap. I
grunted but absorbed the impact, taking the weight of him,
all of him,
inadvertently smooshing me into the soggy, wet patch of
ground cradling me.

Sighing into my nape, he shuddered as
his softening male flesh brushed the lips of my sex.

“
Your skin is so hot down
there,” he muttered into my neck, and I felt a spurt of wetness
from his cockhead before he pressed his semi-hard erection into
me.

“
Trystan!”

“
Oh, yes, Daph, yes. Say my
name.” He only got the head inside of me, my swollen insides
protesting his attempted invasion, before I heard a familiar
shout.

“
Daphedaenya!
Daphedaenya!”

And never have I been so relieved to
hear someone say my name, like only Mamma could.

Trystan froze and stilled, but hopped
up at the sound of her voice. A look of panic washing over him, he
shoved his now shriveling, glistening member into his pants as he
tugged them, drawers and all, up his legs.

I watched, dazedly, as he redressed
himself, still reeling from all that had just happened.

What,
I almost found myself asking,
exactly, did just happen?

Trystan knelt down in front of me and
pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping any and all
traces of his bodily fluid from my person, tucking my clothes back
into place as I, still stunned, just stared at him.

“
Come on,” he crooned
gently, sweetly, back to my loving, kind and caring Trystan. The
change in him, after and during what we’d just done, left me
staring after him, blinking dumbly at him as he went about
redressing me, as if nothing was amiss. I didn’t know how or what
to feel.

Still a bit shaken, I got to my feet
before I finally spoke.

“
What just happened?” I
mumbled in a small voice and dared to peek at him, uncertain. He
laughed and hugged me tight, kissing my forehead as he ran his
hands lecherously over my bottom. It didn’t feel the same anymore,
and it sort of made my skin crawl. I jumped, but he just took that
as a good sign and nuzzled my cheek.

“
Why, we just made love, my
silly, soon to be wife,” he teased, waiting patiently in front of
me with a bright, happy smile.

“
Soon to be wife?” I
mumbled stupidly, perplexed and a bit more than
surprised.

“
Yes!” he cried happily,
scooping me up to twirl me around. “Our Pa’s were talking on the
way to the bridge, and mine suggested the match, along with the
back land your Pa’s always been eyeing. He agreed, though they both
decided right then wasn’t the time to iron things out, and now
we’re engaged to be wed. Isn’t that wonderful, love?”

At the look on my face, his smile
slowly fell and he set me down carefully on my feet.

“
You
do
want to marry me still, don’t
you, Daphie-girl?” The uncertainty in his voice pulled at me, along
with a slow measure of guilt.

“
I do,” and I did, “I just,
uhm, I’m, uh…”

His smile returned as he cottoned
on.

“
Oh,” glancing away
sheepishly, he rubbed at his neck worriedly, “are you upset about
what happened in the field just now?” Tossing his head, he motioned
towards the spot we’d just gotten up from.

I wouldn’t look, refused to, actually.
And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t really meet his gaze at
that moment.

“
Well…” Pausing, I chewed
on the inside of my cheek and debated if it would be unkind to tell
him my thoughts on our ‘love making’, as he referred to it, of
moments ago.

“
Daphie?” he whispered
hoarsely, and at the sound in his voice, I forced myself to look
up. He had a sudden, inexplicable look of panic on his face, but
then he cleared it and hugged me to him tight.

“
Look, it was my first time
too, even if we didn’t finish together, and, uh, they always say
the first time doesn’t always go the way you’d like it to,
especially if you’ve never done it before. So…”

Thinking about that for a moment, and
how that likely could be the explanation, I slowly relaxed into his
embrace, smiling a little into his shirt front, taken in by his
admission and his adorable babbling.

“
It was your first time
too?” I’d never thought about that, assuming that all men did away
with their virginity as soon as they could. Most of them did. It
had never crossed my mind he would wait.