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"Penelope," Colin sighs. "It is not that I do not wish to speak with you—it is—"
"You have been avoiding me since you have returned home," Penelope mutters. "There has to be something I have done…"
No, it is not anything she has done. Not at all. It is an old wives tale—well, not entirely a tale much longer. The tale that once ingesting the plant, one must either fuck someone or… die.
The plague begins with minor symptoms. Night sweats for a few days. Then the insomnia—pacing the halls, unable to get rest. Then…the other sensations...
The sensations that make her being here difficult.
The difficulty began with the dreams, they started subtly at first. Mostly of his adventures. Traveling around the world, then the women entered. He is merely a man after all, men have those dreams.
But dreaming of the girl who corresponded with him all summer? That has been different. So different. It is not like he has not had dreams of her in the past, they simply were not like these. It began with her hair, the way he had always paid far too much attention to it.
The next time Colin had fallen asleep, his mind had gone to unfamiliar planes. A dream of him slipping off her shift, the sight of her naked body radiating in front of him. Now, those thoughts. They won't stop.
They consume him. Keeps him awake all hours of the night. No matter how much he cums again and again, he simply can never calm the urges. They keep growing stronger and stronger.
Fuck, he could not possibly explain this madness to her.
"Colin," she starts. "I deserve to know why you have sequestered yourself in your room and refuse to speak to me."
She is right, she does deserve to know, but she should not be here… not around him. Not while looking at him with that pleading look in her eyes. It will just cause…no. no. Not right now.
Colin grabs his chest. The pain shooting from his left arm to his heart. Ouch, god…anything but this. He clutches at his shirt. The pain radiating through his body.
It'll pass. Just as it has before.
"Colin?" She steadies him, worry filling her voice. "What is—what is going on?"
"Pen…" he steps back into his room. "You should not be here, please."
The pain shoots back up his arm. He lets out a loud groan, she steps further into his bedroom. Closing the door behind her. No—no. This is not a place for her, not in his room. Not after all the fantasies he has had of her these past few days.
"What is happening… Colin, I am concerned."
"Please Pen," he groans, holding his chest. "You must go back to your guest room before someone finds you here."
Her being discovered is the last thing he wants. Her unchaperoned—his brothers rushing in to find her in here. With his…problem. His chambers is not a place for an unmarried woman to be. Especially with this plague coursing through him.
"I will not leave until you tell me what is happening," she states. "Should I fetch someone? What should I do?"
"There is nothing you can do, Pen."
"There has to be something," she says, walking closer to him. "Do you wish for me to go wake your brothers? Maybe they can help."
"No!" Colin shakes his head. "They most certainly cannot help with this."
They absolutely could not. According to a few men down at the docks, pirates they had spoken to explained in great detail, the only true cure to this sickness is to fuck a woman. It is absurd, he thought to himself. But no matter how many times he cums, he does not seem to be able to force it to go away. To leave his body.
"There must be something I can do to help Colin…" Penelope pleads. "Please tell me what to do."
"The only way that I can be free of this….is to lie in bed with a woman."
"Lie in bed with a woman?" She questions.
It is obvious…her expression saying exactly what he already knows. She does not understand. Well, he does not expect her too. His own mother did not explain these things to his eldest sister. Why on earth would her mother explain this to her? Damn it all.
"I must fuck someone, Pen," he sighs. "If I do not, I will…die."
The horror spreads on her face as soon as those words spill from his mouth. The shock. The color has drained from her face; she is as pale as the bed sheets as she stands in front of him. He did not wish to involve her regarding his ailments.
"There—there has to be something we can do," she stammers, placing her hand on his chest. "A doctor? Can we get you to a doctor?"
"A doctor cannot fix this," he says, grabbing her wrist and trying to back away from her. "I have spoken to one prior. I have listened to the men at the shipyard talk about my ailment…this is the only way and I do not wish to—"
"Use me."
His eyes go wide.
Did she…did she just say that?
There is no way she understands what he is expressing. What she is asking him to do. To use her to cure his…illness? She is a well bred lady. He dare not ruin her for the sake of saving himself. And what of her potential husband, if she—he must not think of that. All that will do is make the pain worse.
"Penelope—no," Colin shakes his head. "I will not. I cannot."
"I am offering myself," Penelope replies. "Is that not what you need? Will this cure you?"
"Yes, it will, but…"
"Then tell me," she says, looking up at him. "Tell me what to do. I must not lose you."
It may have been the look in her eye. That beacon of hope she is giving him. Whatever it is, something in him gave in. Just as he has always done for her. He could never truly deny her anything. There is really no harm….if no one finds out, right? The door is locked. She is conveniently in his room.
She can not be ruined publicly, of course, if she wishes to take a husband.
"You must undress."
"Is that all?" she questions, as her fingers go to the ribbons at her bosom.
Christ, she does not know. There is a foreboding feeling of guilt that perhaps he should not do this. He could change his mind. But he watches. Her small fingers undoing the ribbons of her thin cotton shift; it is almost transparent the way fabric catches in the light. His cock hardens in his breeches as he eyes how the fabric clings to her curves. She isn't even undressed yet.
"No," he whispers. "I will have to lie with you—like a husband does with his wife."
"Will you teach me?"
She slips the sleeve of her shift down down her shoulder and over her arm. Then frees her other one. Until…she slips the entire garment all the way off. The fabric dropping down into a puddle at her feet. Ohh…god. There she is in front of him. Completely bare.
Her porcelain skin glowing from the soft light of the candles. Her hair flowing around her shoulders. Those big breasts of hers…and those curves. Every bit of her perfection down to the red curls on her mound. How… is he even going to control himself? There is no way.
"Tell me," Penelope says, nervously. "What to do."
Grabbing her hand, he guides her to the bed. Gently pushing her onto it. She lets out a soft gasp as her back hits the mattress. He would love to take his time—worship her—show her every possible way a man can make a woman feel pleasure. Sit between her legs for hours, make her cum over and over again.
But, alas, they are in a very large house. Filled with people who may eventually investigate her disappearance. There is no conceivable possibility he could get away with this.
"You must tell me to stop at anytime," Colin murmurs, undoing the buttons of his shirt. "All you need to do is say the word."
"I do not wish for you to stop."
Even with that nervous look in her eyes, she is trying to seem strong. He understands, feels it even. He is nervous about hurting her. About doing something that he would regret. That she may end up regretting this in the long run and hate him for her ruin.
Undoing the last button, Colin's shirt finds its way onto the floor next to her shift. She looks at him as she lays back on her elbows; her eyes watching his hands go to the buttons of his breeches. The moment they drop to the floor. He hears her say something. Something soft and sweet.
He is hard, so hard is has been killing him. The tip of his cock is flushed red, leaking clear fluid. He wraps his hand around the base, he strokes himself once. Letting out a loud groan once his hand squeezes around himself.
"Is—is that…"
"We can—"
"Colin," she snaps, "I do not wish to stop. I only wish to know how, or if this will hurt."
"No," he says, walking to the foot of the bed. "I promise, I will not hurt you. I will be gentle with you."
He strokes himself again, one—two—three slow times as he looks down at her. Using his other hand, he spreads her legs apart. Finally revealing her cunt. God, she is wet. The light of the candle hitting the angle just right, extenuating her glistening cunt. Maybe he will not be able to control himself. Every thought inside his head is telling him to completely bury himself in her. Fuck her until she is absolutely undone under him.
He takes a deep breath. Guiding the leaking tip of his cock to her soaking entrance. Gathering some of her slick, he drags it to her clit. Causing her to let out a small moan as he teases her with the swollen head.
"Colin," she moans.
Penelope spreads wider for him. He takes in the moment to realize what they are doing…is really happening. She is under him. Moaning. He is not in a fever dream like before. He is truly about to do this.
"Please," she begs.
Colin knows she is not fully aware of what she is begging for. She is chasing pleasure. Dripping onto the bed as he keeps teasing her. Slowly, he positions himself at her tight hole. Her eyes go wide, fingers dig into the bed sheets.
"You must relax, love," he says, rubbing the inside of her thigh. "I am not going to let anything unpleasant happen to you."
And then he starts to push in. Burying himself inch by inch. Reveling in the stretch of her as her body eases her to open up. Lord, her inner muscles are pulsing. He swears, he could cum right now. Bringing a finger to his mouth, he spits on it. Gathering enough to wet his finger tip.
"Oh god," Colin groans. "You are unaware how wonderful you feel. So warm and tight—Christ Pen, I have never felt a cunt this tight."
Her thighs continue to tremble as he places his finger on her clit. Once his finger begins to rub against her, she chokes out a cry. She is so beautiful under him. Her cunt taking his cock. A blush spreading across her face. Her hair splayed out over the sheets of the bed.
He could keep her just like this.
Watch her take him over and over again.
"That feels…"
"Good?" he asks. "It will feel better, try to relax more."
She takes a deep breath, her hands releasing the sheets. Her eyes do not stay on him long. They go down to between her legs. He keeps his thrusts gentle, each one allowing her more time to adjust around him. He does not want to rush this. The only thing he desires is for her to feel good. To take him fully.
"Pen, you are doing so well for me," he praises, pulling out slowly. "You take me so wonderfully, allowing me to fill you."
Letting out a small whimper, she grabs onto his chest. Colin would kill to go faster, to get his cock so deep inside of her that it kisses her cervix. But he would not do that to her, damn—he would never do a single thing to hurt her.
Carefully, he keeps going. Pulling her closer to him. Pushing her leg up higher to get deeper inside of her. Eventually, those little whimpers become moans. Quiet ones, muffled every time she bites down on her lower lip.
"We must be silent," Colin whispers, burying fully inside of her. "I cannot focus with how tight you are."
He swears her bottom lip is swollen. A little red in the center with how her teeth keep sinking into it. Each thrust in and out of her, it makes her clench tighter. Her fingers drag down his chest. He is in aw at just how well she is taking him, especially for her first time.
"More," Penelope whines. "Please…I—I need more."
Damn—Christ. He must not. But she begs, again. And he simply is unable to resist. His hips slam forward, the sound of his skin smacking hers echoes in the room. He groans loud enough that someone can easily hear it.
"Pen," he breaths. "You take my cock so perfectly. It is as if God made you for me."
The filthy praises make her grip him harder. His name spills from her lips over and over as he ruts into her. All he wants to do is kiss her—to make her his. He can barely stop himself from cumming. His finger continues to circle her clit.
"Something's happening…" she mumbles. "I do not—"
She cums. Liquid gushing out around his cock, soaking his bedsheets. That's going to be hard to explain in the morning.He fucks her through it. Trying to make her cum again as she bites her lip to the point he wonders if she will draw blood.
"I'm—" he mutters. "I'm really close, I'm going to pull—"
"No," she shakes her head. "No, it is going to happen again."
Colin snaps his hips forward. He can no longer logically convince himself to not allow her cum again. He rubs her clit harder, drawing out a moan so loud that it makes him grin. She cums again, her walls clenching so hard around him as his tip kisses her sensitive cervix. Emptying himself, thick white cum paints her insides as she milks him.
Fuck—this actually happened.
The two of them stay still for a moment. He does not pull out. He came so much that he is leaking out of her cunt. All around the base of his thick cock. God, his entire body feels exhausted, relieved almost. Sweat glistens across his chest. Taking his hand, he brushes the few strands of her hair out of her face and tucks them behind her ears.
"Colin," Penelope starts. "Can I ask you something?"
"Yes, Pen," Colin says. "Anything."
"Will you remain sick? You will not die after this, correct?"
"Yes," he says. "I believe I will not die. That is correct."
"Then can we do this again?"
"Of course."
