Slowly.

Your gentle fingers curl around his hip and slowly, slowly encourage his sleeping form to roll over. His beautiful cock is revealed to you, only semi-hard for now, resting upon his meaty balls. The shaft rises as your subtle fingertips circle round it, now clear of the dense, neat thatch of dark hair surrounding its base. You are torn by what to look at - his sleepy, smiley dreaming face, or the increasingly thick and heavy prick in your hand. Your weight shifts as you slip further onto the bed, now on your knees with your other hand planted next to his toned, hard tummy.

You are mesmerized by the slow bulge of his cockhead every time your dainty hand descends, drawing the foreskin down around the bulbous head. Your lips are now touching it, kissing it softly as you maintain the rhythm with your hand. You have no idea what you are doing, you realize, having never given head before, and a moment of worry is silenced by the obvious reality that having received it many times, perhaps you are better placed than most girls to give a great blowjob.

Your lips part over the hot, hot head of Alex's dick. You hear him moan in his sleep as it slips inside, your saliva easing its passage into your small mouth. As your lips pop over the ridge of his head and onto the shaft, an intense drop of salty pre-cum oozes onto your tongue, which caresses the underside; his frenulum, slit, and the thick bulge of the channel that feeds it. With only a couple more strokes of your hand, and increasingly loud groans from Alex, you feel the intense pressure against your tongue as it passes just under the surface of his skin and spews forth into your mouth. The first pulsing blast shoots up into the back of your throat. You are unprepared for it and gag slightly as the thick, sticky liquid coats your tonsils, but you manage to swallow by the time the third pulse comes. Two more fill your waiting mouth, and you reluctantly pull your head away from the rock-hard cock still clutched in your hand. A final blast of cum takes you by surprise as you are withdrawing, splattering your cheek and chin with his hot jizz.

"Holy shit," you hear Alex's deep voice, interrupting your reverie at the majesty of his cock and cum. "This is a dream, right?"

You look at him. His gorgeous, dopey face and that lopsided grin. You are completely in love, you realize. "Good morning Alex," you purr, still on all fours straddling one of his legs. His eyes are drunkenly roving over you, absorbing the sight of your cum-spattered face and the excellent view of your breasts afforded by your dress.

"... This isn't a dream," he murmurs.

"Nuh-uh."

"You're... you're not mad at me?"

His cock is still hard. You've gradually been crawling up the bed, your skinny legs now on either side of his taut, lean body. As your crotch reaches the approximate level of his, you straighten up, his dick still in your hand, and lifting your skirt up, you guide him into you and sink yourself down onto his--

"AHHHHhhhhh... I'm fucking furious with you, Alex. Unh... Can't you tell?" You can feel his wiry hair tickling your pussy lips, stretched around the rock-hard invader. You've got his entire length inside you, and the total fullness of your union completes your soul. You start to cry, although quietly this time. "Ugh. How could you leave me like that? Ah! What the fuck where you thinking..." Your small hands are fists, beating gently at his muscular chest as you work your hips up and down the wonderful length inside you. He has one hand on your boobs, pulling the top of your dress down to let one free. His other hand is on your ass, side, and thigh, squeezing roughly with his strong fingers. Every time your sopping cunt reaches its height, the bulging head is almost **** out of your tiny opening before you slip down, down, until every millimeter of possible yield in your tunnel has stretched allowing your almost-virgin pussy to be filled completely. You are slowly riding him, knees either side of his midriff, still weakly flailing your fists as you are lost in the ecstasy of being joined with your lover.

"Hnnng ... John," he exclaims with urgency, "you gotta get off me, I'm gonna cum."

"Already? NOW you care about that? Mm - aah! Well, you, uh, don't have to worry about that. Also, my name is ohhhhh Summer." You buck your hips one more time and descend to completeness again. You feel the burning **** of his orgasm as his dick pulses again. Four - five times only this time. You must be wearing him out. There is a delicious oozing feeling where his cockhead lies, by the barrier to your womb, as his sperm rush out to join their brothers and sisters from yesterday.

"Summer? That's your name now?" He pants, his big hands resting on your hips. You are still riding him: gentler, but with a certain ****, trying to complete your own orgasm on his reluctantly wilting penis.

"You didn't think I'd still go by John now that I'm a girl? I think that would have definitely confused people." You're not going to finish like this, with his hardness almost completely gone. With a growl of frustration you give up and lower your body down to his, hands now resting lovingly on his shoulders. His cock slips out of you with a wet sucking sound, followed by a bubbling deluge of his burning hot spunk. Your nose is a couple of centimeters away from his. You look into his eyes, which have shaken off the confusion of sleep but still looking at you searchingly. "Yes, my name is Summer. Gwen chose it for me. Do you like it?"

"It's, uhhh, a really sexy name for a girl like you. Yes, I like it." Your small frame rests on his panting chest. Your breasts are smooshed against him, your one bare nipple tickled slightly by his chest hair. You kiss him, and give a little cry as he flinches from you. "Babe, I want to kiss you, but your face is still covered in my jizz."

You pinch his earlobe sharply. "That's enough to make you shy from a kiss?" You pinch him again. "Remember I'm still angry with you, mister. Or can't you tell?"

"Ow, ow!" he laughs. "Ok, sorry. I'll try not to let it bother me..." And he kisses you, lovingly. You note with amusement that he manages not to avoid any of the cum touching his own skin. Your noses rub against each other and your foreheads touch. There is a moment of beautiful, wonderful peace between you.

"Mmmmmmm... You feel gooooood, baby."

"You too, uh, Summer. Really really good."

"You really fucked me over yesterday. You know that, right?"

"I know. I'm really sorry. I've been regretting it ever since. Well, regretting parts of it, I mean. I, uh... you didn't mean that about me **** you, right?"

"I definitely did mean it, you shithead. At the time. But now I don't think that's what happened." You sigh heavily. "Everything about yesterday was complicated, and unnatural. I wasn't in control of myself, you weren't either... I've been getting to know this new body of mine and I realize now there was basically nothing I could do to stop it."

His arms wrap around your back, holding you close. "I am so sorry for how I acted. I'm mainly sorry for running away like that."

"You also were a bit of a shit throughout the day, you know." You poke him, playfully. "Those texts you sent me... were they supposed to be reassuring? Because they fucking weren't." He looks embarrassed. "Although I guess I'm impressed that you jerked off so many times and still have buckets of cum waiting for me today. And that you managed not to pull your dick off."

"I just... couldn't get you out of my head. Jesus, it was like I was insane. I got sent home from work because I couldn't concentrate on anything else. I just kept thinking about your hot little body."

You sigh, and admit that you couldn't get him out of your head either. You tell him about the episode in the restaurant bathroom, and that you fantasized about him when you frigged yourself with the dildo this morning. And then you tell him about Gwen's involvement and support. You don't mention any of the pregnancy stuff, hoping, if he's forgotten about it, that breaking it to him slowly will help him not do a runner this time. At the mention of Gwen's name, he speaks.

"Oh man, your sister? She knows about what I did?"

"... Yyyyes? How do you think she wouldn't know? I was **** and alone and she was there for me."

"I... know. But, man... your sister hates me already."

"Hate is a strong word, Alex. She didn't hate you, until yesterday. Now she hates you. But try not to worry. She's downstairs, and she won't do anything unless I tell her to."

"She's downstairs?!"

"Of course. She drove me over here, and was going to back me up if... things got ugly. Between you and me. Anyway don't worry. She's not going to be your biggest fan for a while, but I'll bring her round." You purr contentedly on your lover's chest, and kiss his neck and face a couple more times, before reluctantly starting to rise. There's another episode to your reconciliation that you probably can't delay any longer.

You turn, long legs sliding off the edge of the bed, and stand up. You look in the mirror, and gasp at your reflection. You are a mess, with streaky makeup from the tears mixing with the slowly crusting cum on your cheek and your hair is in disarray. Your dress is half pulled down, exposing one tit completely and almost revealing the other. You sort out the dress, re-covering your exposed breasts and smoothing the creases down over your hips. Taking a tissue from the nearly empty box next to Alex's bed you wipe the spunk and makeup from your face. Not all of it comes off easily, but you do your best. Finally, you take out your hairclip and redo the bun. Another glance at the mirror and you see you are almost presentable. You turn to face Alex once again. He has been watching you, and looks dumbstruck. Something's not quite right though. His eyes are focused on your leg. You look down and see a dribble of cum running down your thigh, and understand what is going through his mind.

"Oh shit! Of course!" he starts, rising up. "You might be pregnant! What... uh... is going on with that?"

"Check your phone," you say sadly, with nerves rising in your stomach. This is make or break. He could let you down, again. You don't think he will, but he might.

He reaches over to his phone in confusion.