Lucy Martin<br/>Location: Dylan’s apartment<br/>Tags: Dylan Murphy<br/><br/>Her kisses, her soft plea to him, it did not go unheard. His reply, her name in a voice so laced with Lucy, filled Lucy with a sensation she had never felt before. It was exciting and frightening at the same time. She feared her body wouldn’t be able to withstand it. The feelings were welling up so strongly, so quickly, Lucy feared she would explode. Their lips met again, and she could feel her own passion, her own desires, burning against his. She felt his hand grazing her breast as he made his way to her side. A surge spiked through her, causing her to squirm slightly on his lap. It was involuntary. There was no way with something so strong racing through her body that she would be able to sit still. As much as that feeling had awakened even more inside of her, as he began to unbutton the blouse she wore, Lucy was consumed by something even stronger. She gasped just before he kissed her once more, not in protest but in approval. It was something else she would not be able to contain. She didn’t want to. The moment was happening so fast, so strongly. His hand, so warn, so soft, guided her hand to his chest. She could feel his heart beating, the warmth, the promise of what he wanted was there. His skin, bared to her, there for her to touch, to feel, to see, felt so right beneath her trembling hand. She gasped yet again as his hand touched her breasts. His lips felt as though they would burn her flesh. She wanted them to. She didn’t want any part of this contact to stop.  His teeth grazed her neck, and again Lucy squirmed, coming closer to him as she groaned. She moved her hand from his chest, lacing her fingers through his hair. She could feel his fingers massing her breast, threatening to touch her in a place she knew would light her up even more so than she already was. Her lips moved though her words were silent. Pure nervous  energy gripped her as his hand slipped underneath her skirt. Suddenly it was too much, the fabric. She wanted it off. She wanted more contact with him. Her moving lips were halted as he consumed her with another kiss and guided her body to the couch. Lucy felt as though she were floating, lighter than air in his grasp.<br/><br/>She pulled from the kiss, moaning at the feeling of him against her. It was clear he was aroused by their actions. The dampness between her legs was evident to her, letting her know she was ready as well. “Dylan,” she breathed, wanting to hear his name, wanting to hear her own voice. It had changed, now tinged with her own desires. “I can’t..don’t..stop,” she cooed, her body writhing, meeting his movements. The fear of becoming a woman was nothing more than a memory. All she feared was disappointing him, but he had already proven he would guide her. “Show me Dylan,” she whispered, her breathing labored. “Show me..how..to make love.” Her fingers were laced in his hair once more. With a firm grasp she brought his lips to hers’ once more tasting him, tasting his desire burning right through her to meet her own.