First Times.

By Alia

Disclaimer: Sam and Al do not belong to me, I am only borrowing them and promise to return them as soon as I am finished playing with them. No infringement to copyright or disrespect intended.

Summary: Sam doesn’t remember his first time with Al.

Warnings:A little angst.

Rating:R-NC17

Author’s notes: This story is a part of the ‘Prelude to a Leap’ and ‘The Way Home,’ universe, although it can be read as a stand-alone. It picks up straight after ‘The Way Home.’ Please be aware that this story is unbetaed and contains Australian spelling. If you find a typo, missing word or spelling mistake feel free to point it out to me.

Comments: Are welcome and can be sent to aliajones1999@yahoo.com

---*---

As human beings we have an indeterminate number of first times. The first time we drive a car, get a job, or even make love are all inscribed in our memories, tucked away in our sub-conscious to be taken out at various intervals to be reflected upon and re-examined as we go through life.  Most of us take these memories for granted, never giving them much thought until we want to revisit them. Up until a few years ago I was one of those individuals. As one of the two to ten percent of people born with a photographic memory, not being able to remember something had never been a problem for me. Of course that all changed the day I decided to step into the nuclear accelerator chamber I had created to travel in time.

While I was leaping Al had referred to the gaps in my memory as resembling Swiss cheese. The big holes represented things like my family and the little ones were other things, like where I went to school. For the most part he was able to help me fill in what leaping around in time had taken from me.  Naturally there were things that he never quite got around to telling me and it wasn’t until I returned home that he revealed the true nature of relationship.  

I am not going to pretend I wasn’t shocked and I still don’t remember it, being his lover, but I know now that I want to. More than anything I want to be able to put the last five years behind us and pick up where we left off.

Because I have no memory of our life together I don’t remember our first time. Al says it doesn’t matter but there is a part of me that wishes I could, if only to know what he likes. The reintroduction of basic intimacies such as kissing are brand new, less than an hour old in fact and while it’s satisfying in its own right, I know he wants more.

Smiling at him now, I am reminded that he is not alone. I haven’t gotten hard from just kissing since I was in high school and while the revelation is surprising, it is not unwelcome. The ache between my legs is quickly becoming uncomfortable and I know he is in a similar condition. The evidence of his arousal is clearly outlined through the sheer cotton of his boxers and much like mine are tenting conspicuously. How to deal with it though is becoming an issue. Al appears hesitant to push and while I appreciate his consideration I don’t want him to think I’m only willing to go so far or I don’t know what I am doing. I am very aware of what should happen next. I am just a little unsure about how to achieve it.

The room has gone from comfortable to feeling very warm and I stretch, taking a moment to let my body cool and to try and catch some of the breeze coming through the open window. I know the rise in temperature is at least partly due to what we’ve been doing and I am glad I thought to remove my T shirt earlier. Initially I had taken it off as a show of confidence. To let Al see that I was willing to take the next step with him. He is still wearing his and I guess that should be my next challenge.

Rolling over again I reach out to where he is lying in the middle of bed and casually place a hand on the flat plane of his stomach, resting it there briefly as I initiate another kiss. As I have already discovered Al’s lips are firm and knowledgeable.  I let him take over, opening myself to his greater experience, moaning against his mouth as he turns a simple press of lips into something far more engaging. It’s enough to make me forget my plan but somehow I manage to slide my hand lower to where his shirt has ridden up. His skin is warm and inviting and I burrow beneath the fabric, splaying my fingers as I attempt to touch as much of my newly found prize as possible.

Al arches against me, groaning his disappoint when I push the offending garment up and out of the way, and then pull back to look at him. It is still too dark to make out the exact details, but I know that despite his age and the demands placed on him by the Project for the last few years he is physically fit.

“Is something wrong,” he asks.

I shake my head. “I was just thinking that you must be feeling a little over heated.”

Al stretches, his arms reaching above his head, purposely exposing more skin. His eyes twinkling playfully. “You saying I’m hot Sam?”

It is very difficult not to return his grin and I don’t bother trying to hide my own amusement as I run my hand over his chest to where his T shirt is now bunched up under his arms. “I’m saying maybe you should take this off.”

Al has always been a terrible tease and while I don’t remember how we were together I know instinctively that his often brash sense of humour is a part of it. I wonder though. His eyes darken and I see the smile slowly fade as my words sink in. What was light and relatively easy a moment ago is suddenly serious, as if he’s still not sure I want this.

“We don’t need to go any further if you’re not ready,” he replies. Lowering his arms and then propping himself up on his elbows.

I believe Al. If I wanted to stop now he would accept my decision without question. It’s pretty obvious that neither of us actually want to stop however and I sit up and regard him through the semi-darkness. “I want to,” I tell him. “More than anything. I want to remember being with you.”

Al has been incredible tonight. Thoughtful in ways I would never have imagined. Pulling himself into a seated position he reaches out to stroke my hair, brushing the unruly strands out of my eyes. “Kissing is one thing, Sam and I can see you’re keen for more.” This added as his gaze drifts to my groin and then back up again.  “But we don’t have to rush things. It’s like I said, we have plenty of time now.”

I am not sure how to convince him that I know what I am doing. That I knew what would happen when I invited him to share our bed, but it occurs to me that maybe it’s Al that’s not ready and he doesn’t know how to tell me. “Don’t you want to make love?”

There is a sniff of indignation, but without any real ire. “Are you kidding me, Sam?” The hand stroking my hair drops to my shoulder, gripping it firmly. “Because that’s not true. I used to lay awake while you were gone. Night after night.  Wishing you were here, wishing that I could touch you. Love you again.”

Each word is heartfelt. The longing in his voice palpable. “What then? You told me that wanting us was all that mattered.” I want to point out that we are both hard, but my erection has waned somewhat and I don’t think that is what Al is talking about anyway.

He is wishful now. His hand drops away and I feel him withdrawn.  “It’s been a long time,” he finally says. “And I don’t want to disappoint you.”

 “Why would you think that?”

“Because a lot of this,” he indicates between us. “Is an acquired taste. When you were leaping you didn’t remember us and although it hurt like hell it didn’t matter as long as you were safe. The times when you got together with someone they were all…”

“They were all women,” I finish for him.

Al nods and I begin to understand. I remember many of the leaps and the people I met. Some of the faces come to mind, young and beautiful, long flowing hair. I close my eyes, halting the memories before they can take shape. I had cheated on him. Unknowingly and I am not sure how many times, but it’s immaterial, once was too many.  My chest tightens and I swallow over the lump forming in my throat then open my eyes again.

“And you think that’s what I really want and I won’t enjoy it with you?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I’m just afraid of losing you all over all again. I’m sorry.” He glances away.  

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “You don’t need to be,” I tell him. “I’m the one that should be sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you. I don’t remember what happened in the years or weeks before I leaped for the first time, but I know whatever is was we would have found a way to resolve it.”

Reaching for Al I lift his chin, gently turning his head so he is looking at me. “I want us,” I say.

I can see him trying to accept what I am saying, wanting it to be true, but struggling under the weight of all he had witnessed while I was leaping. Leaning forward I cover his mouth with my own. Taking charge for the first time tonight and revelling in the realisation that whatever has been lost can be found again if we truly want it.  Al’s arms lift to embrace me, his hands traveling over my face and shoulders as I guide him down to the firm mattress, his legs parting and his knees drawing up to cradle me against him as we slowly move together.  I know that at some point I am going to need his greater experience to make this good for both of us, but something’s don’t need previous knowledge. For a few minutes we reacquaint ourselves with what is already familiar between us, reawakening what had diminished in light of what we had discussed.

It doesn’t take long before the thin barriers still separating us becomes too much and I pull back to help Al pull his T shirt over his head and toss it to one side. His hands slip to my boxers before his shirt even has a chance to hit the floor, his eyes silently begging for access as he draws a line the length of my cock. The sensation is electric and I simultaneously moan at the contact and push forward, seeking more. I try to accommodate him as quickly as I can, but there is no way I can remove my shorts in my current position. I roll over, the sound of Al complaining my sudden departure ringing in my ears as I step off the side of the bed. My legs are a little unsteady and my knees feel as if they could give way at any moment, but I manage to get my shorts off. Not surprisingly Al has had a similar idea and I watch as he pushes the last of his clothing to his knees then lifts up to drag them the rest the way down, kicking them out of the way.  

Al moves to the far side when I sit back down again and rummages for something in his bedside table. Locating whatever it was he was looking for he turns over once more, placing what he has retrieved from the draw on the bed.  It’s a tube of lubricant, the luminous verity, judging from the way it is glowing, and while I know what it’s for, I am not sure what he wants me to do with it.

He seems to realise my uncertainty and smiles at me through the darkness.

“Whatever you want, Sam.”

I have no doubt that Al would agree to anything right now and I know given time we will revisit everything we had before. For now though I recover the space, once again taking him in my arms and kissing him soundly. Our mouths and legs tangling as we each juggle for position. It is so much better than before and I close my eyes briefly, just trying to keep up with the sensations bombarding my senses. He feels amazing, toned and well cared for, muscle covered in warm skin from head to foot. The first touch of his length against my own is startling. The solidness is breath-taking, like touching hot iron. The urge to move against it impossible to ignore. I know that at this rate I’m not going to last very long, that it is already too much, but I try to catch my breath as we explore one another unhindered. Al’s hands seem to be everywhere at once, caressing and coaxing me to do the same. It’s good, but it can’t go on. The ache between my legs is painful and I can feel myself tighten, my body preparing to climax.

I manage a choked sound. A warning just before he breaks our kiss and backs off a little.  

“Just relax a moment,” he pants.

I can feel Al’s rapid heartbeat and hear the short snatches for breath that follow. In spite of my own tenuous control I feel a swell of pride, knowing he is no less affected and that his statement is just as much for his benefit as it is for me fills me with a sense of belonging that I have felt in a very long time.  

Of course it is easier said than done, but I do my best to relax as his attention moves to my backside. The warm glide of his hand travelling from rump to thigh, then the lifting of one of my legs so that it is across his hip, and finally heeding his unspoken encouragement to bend my knee to anchor it in place. The slight change in position provides some respite, but not much.

“Okay?”

It’s more than okay. The whole night has been amazing, life changing, but I don’t have words to describe what I am feeling right now and I nod, hoping he will understand.  A brief press of lips and the fleeting touch of his fingers against my cheek before he pulls away again letting me know that he does.  

The lube is opened and although I can’t see what he’s doing the distinctive sounds and the return of one his hands a short time later tells me all I need to know. Al kisses me again, gently this time but with no less passion as he coats first himself then me with the oil he has taken from the tube. His touch is purposely light now, agonisingly so and I know he trying to find a balance amid holding back the inevitable and ensuring both of our comfort. Apparently satisfied he reaches for the hand I have resting on my knee, lacing our fingers together before he guides them between us.

“Not long now,” he assure me.

I nod again, trusting him in a way that I never trusted anyone.

Wrapping our joined hands around both erections Al creates a rhythm that starts slow, alternating between pulling and squeezing on the up and down up stroke, increasing in speed until we are moving in unison. It’s hot and perfect, as if he knows everything that I enjoy and is not holding back, words of praise following each thrust of my hips and gasp for breath. The part of my brain still functioning reminding me that the body will remember when the mind no longer can. I let it happen, revelling in the sounds and the intimacy we have created. The sweat and the heat.  My whole being focused on him. The slow build within our overheated bodies, rising steadily until we reach the point of no return it becomes impossible to stop. The sensation of overwhelming need to end this echoed in my lover’s own pleas as we race towards completion and finally achieve our goal.

My climax overtakes me, shocking me with its intensity and I cling to Al as he holds me through the aftermaths, silently vowing to never leave him. My mind and body sated beyond words. He pets my hair, carefully arranging the sweat soaked strands that have fallen across my brow out of the way and we both ignore the evidence of shared desire for as long as we can. Kissing occasionally and whispering to each other while our bodies cool. Eventually he pulls back, searching for his shorts on the bed. He finds them without any real difficulty and then uses them to dry us both off. He suggests a shower, but I am too comfortable and we settle for what we can manage without leaving the bed. The covers are reorganised and for the first time and in more years than I wish to count the faint sounds of Al’s steady breathing are the last I hear before I fall asleep.

Circumstances have dictated that I will have to repeat many of my first times, but after tonight and with Al as my guide I know I have nothing to fear.

The End.

Quantum Leap Page

Fiction Page

Website Design and Code Alia .