‘No! You haven’t, I’m just being silly.’ Her eyes were wild.
‘I can wait,’ said Rufus. ‘I’ll wait until you’re ready. I don’t mind.’
‘No. Do it to me, Rufus. I want you to. Just do it.’
Rufus pushed her back down on to the bed, easing her thighs open. He knelt between them. As he reached for the packet of condoms he was aware of her watching him, something like panic in her eyes. He hesitated.
‘Go on,’ she urged him. ‘Do it.’
He opened the packet and slipped the condom on. Then he lay upon her, pushing his penis down between her thighs, desire overtaking his caution, his concern. He found the place, but discovered to his dismay that she was dry. Quickly he spat into his hand and wetted his cock so that he shouldn’t hurt her. Overwhelmed with his love for her, he pushed at the place eagerly, wanting her so much.
Orla stiffened.
‘Relax,’ he urged, kissing her mouth, her neck, her shoulder.
Her hands were bunched into fists against his chest.
She was clenched shut – so firmly shut that he couldn’t enter her.
He pushed again. It was no good. He felt his erection wilt as his mind whirled with bewilderment. She was rejecting him, her actual body was saying no. He looked at her face and saw that her eyes were screwed up as if she couldn’t bear to even see what was happening to her.
‘I can’t breathe,’ she said, shoving her fists against him, starting to writhe in panic.
Instantly Rufus withdrew, flopping back on to the bed. He threw the condom aside. He was no longer erect. He turned his head and gazed at her.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked.
She nodded, her arm across her eyes.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
She said nothing.
‘I’ve rushed you,’ said Rufus. ‘I’m sorry. We can try again, later.’
Orla dropped her arm down on to the bed. Her eyes were wet.
‘Hey. Don’t cry. It doesn’t matter. We’ll leave it for tonight, OK? We’ve all the time we need, don’t worry.’
‘All right,’ she said faintly.
‘We’ll just sleep together,’ said Rufus. ‘Nice and cosy. All right?’
Orla nodded.
‘I’ll turn out the light,’ he said, and did so, pulling the sheets and blankets up to cover them both, snuggling in against her back. It felt so good that he almost forgot his worry at their abortive attempt at love-making. He drifted off to sleep, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair, his arm around her. When the morning light flooded in, she was no longer in the bed with him; he found her asleep on the chaise-longue under the window, wrapped in one of the blankets.
‘Hey,’ he said, nudging her awake. ‘You OK? Why are you over here?’