My first time, the dorky love story.

The house was all theirs, but all they needed was that single bed. The sheets were mountains but he found her figure in the dark, slowly following it with his fingers all the way down her spine. The room grew colder as they peeled the sheets back, her goosebumps grew so he embraced her to provide warmth. He kissed her on the forehead, then her nose, and finally on those lips. The lips that no matter how many times he kisses them, he feels above the clouds.

Their hearts start to race as they become more intimate. They're lips never more than a few seconds apart, constantly turning on top of one another, smiling with their love. They both couldn't be happier, they were all they needed.

He gets on top of her and kisses her chest, at first, slowly working his way down. His mouth, now followed by his hands, begin to please her. She squirms with delight, letting out moans that fill the room. Seconds turn to minutes, but time means nothing to them. They have the whole night.

Her hands creep down his back and grab his exposed, little butt. He squirms because he's a dork with a ticklish butt. Her hands slide around to grab hold. He brings his hands back up to her shoulders, to greet her lips once more. Each moment building on the next, she turns him on his backside.

This is it. She grabs ahold of him, and within another moment, they are both no longer virgins. They both let out moans as their bodies become in sync, each matching the others pattern. It all feels so perfect, they wouldn't have it any other way. They could go for hours, and they do. One am turns into two, then three and four.

Several climaxes later, they collapse from exhaustion. He lies beside her once more, tracing that immaculate silhouette. He kisses her on the forehead, nose, then mouth, as they both whisper to one another.

“Goodnight.”

Neither one said I love you. They didn't need to. It was more than obvious they both had a burning compassion for the other. It was perfect.

It was love.