[moonlightzz]

Brian must have sensed my hesitation. In my dilemma, he raised me to kneeling position and hugged me tightly while frenching me at the same time. This kiss went on for awhile. It succeeded in calming me down and lowering whatever heightened defences I had put up earlier. He knew that the tension within me was dissipating as he lowered my hands that had crossed in front of me. He whispered it to me again...

I love you...

He whispered it over and over.

Naive? Innocent? Probably.

No. Definitely.

With each declaration, internally I felt like Miley Cyrus' wrecking ball knocking down layer after layer of my walls. He knew he won the battle this round as he successfully pulled my arms down and straightened them, all the while locked in frenching me. Then I felt both his hands move up to my breasts. He held onto my breasts over my tee and bra gently and tried to knead both, squeezing softly. This was momentuous, I never had a guy touch me like this before.

Slowly Brian broke the kiss and leaned back, observing the work his hands were carrying out. I knew his gaze was locked onto me even though I had my eyes tightly shut. Then I felt him let go of my breasts and his hands travelled downwards and stopped at the bottom of my tee. I thought maybe that was it, all he wanted was to cop a feel of the young teenager before him and that was the end of it. Then I felt it. I felt my tee being lifted inch by inch.

If you'd ask me, my definition of magic at that moment would be my hands moving upwards according to the rising rhythm of my tee. I opened my eyes and looked down, staring as my tee moved closer and closer towards me. Soon all I saw was the fabric material of my tee upclose and a very very brief moment of darkness. I had closed my eyes.

When I reopened my eyes, I saw before me, my bra covered breasts. They were exposed to a guy for the very first time. Brian didn't waste time; he tossed my tee aside and turned his attention to my breasts. Both hands were grabbing my breasts while squeezing and kneading. His fingers were caressing along the edges of the cups of bra, annoucing what the next act would be.

He teased me by playing with the cups, gently lifting them and letting go before my bare breasts came into view. He was playing peekaboo with my breasts. He embraced me tightly while our lips locked again. I kept my eyes closed. At this point, I wasn't sure what to expect. Mind you, I was 14 years old. 14 and barely a half and all these were completely alien to me. Brian's hand roamed around my back, from the small of my back to the back of my head while his kisses were continuing their path of destruction of my defenses.

I was in an emotional crisis. I grew up with stories of fairytails where princes and princesses were engaged in courtship before their happy ever after. All these that was happening to me, that I was experiencing was not found anywhere in the books that I read. Would Belle allow herself to be undressed before she became his princess? Would Jasmine allow Aladdin to touch her intimates before they wed? While I did enjoy the sensual experience, I was struggling internally to justify what was happening to me. My mind raced through all that I've read and watched to find evidence that this, what Brian was doing to me, was acceptable. I desperately wanted vindication. Alas, I was more like Alice, going deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole.

We frenched for almost an eternity, his hands probably explored and touched every inch of my back before they arrived at where they intended to originally - the hooks of my bra. I could feel both his hands centered on the spot where hook and eyelet were locked together. I felt my bra grew tighter around my chest as he pulled both hook and eye together. I knew what was coming, it was something I experienced daily. The slight tightening feeling before relief. I held my breath. It felt like a lifetime before the sensation of relaxation came.

Brian's hands moved from my back to my shoulders, gently caressing them before they began their downward descent, taking both my shoulder straps along with them. I always desired to be a princess; I didn't feel like one. It's all a lie, a great big lie. There's nothing "princessy" about a guy removing layer after layer of my clothes. Nowhere have I ever read about princesses being stripped of their intimate garments.

He had broken our kiss and leaned back. Probably in eager anticipation to see his handiwork. My eyes were looking down the whole, afraid to look up and meet his. I observed my bra systematically leaving my chest as he removed them. I was afraid. Afraid of what his reaction when he saw... me. How was I to know? This is the first time I was being undressed by a guy. The shoulder straps soon left my arms, I swear everything happened as though it was in slo-mo. My eyes traced the action of his hands as he tossed my bra, the bra he had just stripped from me to the side and off the bed. I heard them land with dull thud on the floor of my bedroom. I looked at my reflection in my dresser mirror, a sight that I should have been used to now looked foreign to me.

There I was, for the first time in my life, topless.

And to sum it up topless before a guy.

I turned my head and looked at Brian, our eyes met for the first time since he started undressing me.

"Wah..."