Dumas thought he saw a flicker of confusion in Mari’s eyes when he asked if she’d ever had sex before.   Under normal circumstances, that would have made him hesitate -- especially when combined with the odd way she emphasized the word ‘<span style="font-style: italic">I</span>’ in her answer.  But he was too far gone now.  Desire burned like a fire inside Dumas’s body, clouding all his thoughts with smoke and ash.<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">It’s nothing</span></span>, he rationalized, selfishly pushing aside his concern.<span style="font-weight: bold"> <span style="font-style: italic">She’s probably just embarrassed about being a virgin.</span></span><br/><br/>“Sometimes it hurts a little the first time,” Dumas cautioned.  That was why he’d asked.  Not because he clung to any outdated ideas about women needing to be ‘pure’, but because he needed to know if there were any special issues.  Being her first was a big responsibility.  And a true privilege.  He wanted to make this feel good for Mari -- better than she’d ever imagined it could be.  “Don’t worry, Bunny Girl.  I’ll be gentle with you.”<br/><br/>Of course, she wasn’t his first -- not even the first time he’d done this with someone he loved.  But now wasn’t the time to start talking about gay soldiers and hookers.  Instead, Dumas caressed Mari’s back, his fingertips trailing lightly down her spine.  “I’m glad it feels right.  It feels right for me too.”<br/><br/>Now that he knew it was Mari’s first time, Dumas was even more committed to letting Mari control the pace of their lovemaking.  But it was getting harder and harder to wait.  Arching his hips, Dumas rubbed himself against Mari -- not yet penetrating her, but urging her to take the initiative.  “Now who’s torturing who?” he teased.