Tree House

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The matter "sex" hadn't come up between me and Peter anymore. We followed the week without talking about it, until today. I didn't used to go out on Fridays until I started dating Peter. As there was no party this week, we decided to go out on a date.


We went to a fancy restaurant in town, one of his favorites. I was wearing a yellow skirt, a cream low-heeled  and a white blouse. Dinner ended early, and as none of us had a set time to return we decided to take a little more stroll.


I chose going to the treehouse, where we used to play as children. When we entered there I realized that maybe the tree house was not the best idea. Peter spread his coat on the floor so we could sit and wrapped his arms around me.


His fingertips touched my chest lightly, but I pretended not to notice. We started to kiss softly, without any malice. Peter ran his hand through my hair and me on his face. Without realizing it (or maybe he did) we layed down, without stopping the kisses. Peter's hands were sliding from my hair to my breasts. First outside the blouse, then inside. Then inside the bra. He ran his fingers along the sides of my boobs naturally, as if he had done it many times (and he must have).


I wasn't worried, but I started to get a little bit. I didn't say anything, thinking about Margot's advice. We must go in stages, and that is what we are doing. I'm ready for this step, after all it is just an affection, isn't it?


I calmed down, and when I realized Peter had already stopped touching my breasts. He was now fiddling with my skirt, slowly pulling it upwards. Then I feel his hands on the side of my panties.I lift my back at once, which scares him.


- What happened Covey?


- I'm not ready to have sex with you.


He laughs, which makes me angry and ashamed at the same time.


- I wasn't trying to have sex with you Covey.


- It didn't look like it, you had your hands on my panties.


- I'm sorry if I crossed the line. I don't want to pressure you.


- No problem.


An awkward silence ensues. I'm ashamed, feeling childish. Peter is already experienced, and I am the fearful virgin.


- Do you miss it? - I say, on impulse.


- Miss what?


- Having sex. I know you and Gen did it all the time.


- We didn't do it all the time.


- Ok Peter - I reply impatiently - Answer the question.


- Not LJ. I'm not an addict, I know how to live without sex normally.


- How? Isn't it like eating ice cream for the first time? Once you find out how good it is, you don't want to stop.


- Do not worry about it.


- Be honest Peter.


- Okay, I wish we were having sex. But I know that you're not ready yet and that's okay. We boys have other ways to relieve ourselves.


He is embarrassed to say this, but I am still apprehensive. He wanted us to have sex. Why can't I just be ready? Why is everyone but me? I stop thinking and ask:


- So, you watch porn?


- Oh my God Covey! - he rubs his hands in embarrassed face,  I didn't expect this reaction - I don't want to talk about it with you.


- Stop being silly Peter - I say laughing - Just tell the truth, you promised.


- Ok! Yes, I watch. All boys do that. It's normal for us.


- It's also normal for us - I say.


I know he was surprised by my answer, as he raises his eyebrows and smiles embarrassed. It makes me uncomfortable too. Why can boys talk about it and girls can't?


- What, Peter? Did you think that only boys masturbated?


- Obviously not - he replies, defensive - But you are the first girl I heard admitting it. You are truthful Lara Jean, I like that about you.


I am ashamed, but soon I return to the previous subject:


- Peter, it's not that I don't want to have sex with you. I'm just not ready, I'm afraid sometimes.


- What are you afraid of Covey?


- Of everything. Of you seeing me naked, of pain, of blood, of doing it wrong. Of everything.


He laughs and wraps his arms around me, making me feel safe.


- You don't need to be afraid Covey. We can go in your time, without any rush. The two here know how to relieve themselves, don't they? - He smiles, satisfied with his little joke. I ignore.


- Can we go in stages?


- What do you mean?


- Like one thing at a time, without going straight to sex. - I say, relieved to be talking to him about it.


- No problem, even better. - he says, looking calm - We have already done two stages just today.


- Which are...? - I say without understanding.


- We talked about it - I shake my head waiting for the rest - And I touched your boobs. In fact, beautiful boobs.


- Peter! - I'm red, and my cheeks are burning. I feel ashamed in a good way.








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