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Up until Lydia’s second time with Stiles, she’d thought she’d had pretty decent sexual experiences. She liked sex, liked the power she had over Jackson and Aiden in the moment, liked the way it felt, and thought that, for the most part, it was fun.
Then she had sex with Stiles.
The first time she had sex with Stiles, he'd been a virgin. She hadn't expected much. Jackson had lasted an embarrassingly short amount of time their first time, but Lydia knew this is how these things went - guys got overwhelmed, they came. After the first time, they knew what to expect and seemed to be able to control themselves better. They gained confidence, they weren't so self-conscious.
It had gone pretty much how most first times went. Stiles was nervous and shaky. He came pretty quickly (though not as quickly as Jackson) and looked like he’d seen God when he did. It was loving and fun. They’d laughed a lot. Stiles had looked at her with awe, something neither Jackson nor Aiden had done.
The difference between that first time and all of the others was that once they were done, Stiles stayed in bed lying on his side while running his long, dexterous fingers over her face and shoulders and arms and breasts. He didn't look in any hurry to go anywhere. He couldn't take his eyes off of her.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Lydia had never been particularly chatty after sex.
“Mmmhmm,” Lydia answered, watching as Stiles ran his long fingers into the valley between her breasts and down further, to her stomach and belly button.
“You’re quiet,” he whispered.
“I usually am after,” Lydia said.
Stiles nodded his acknowledgment of this and said, “Next time, we’re spending more time on you. It’s unacceptable to me that you didn’t cum.”
Lydia scoffed. “It’s not a big deal, Stiles. It was fun. It felt good. I love you. That’s what matters.”
Stiles scowled, watching as his fingers traced circles around her belly button and goosebumps appeared over the surface of her skin.
“It actually is a big deal to me, Lyds,” he said. “Especially since I’ve been trying to picture your o-face since we were freshmen and now I get to be the one causing it.”
Lydia pursed her lips and exhaled harshly.
“What was that for?” Stiles asked, looking her in the eyes.
“Like I said, It’s no big deal. You shouldn’t worry about it. The truth is, I don’t understand what the big deal is anyway,” she said, more testily than she had intended.
The problem with dating someone who was your intellectual equal was that they didn’t take things at face value. With Jackson and Aiden, all she had to do was give them an answer to something and they’d nod and that was that. Stiles, however, was always looking for the subtext to her statements.
It was incredibly annoying.
“So I’m just going to make a wild guess here: Jackson and Aiden didn’t really care if you came, did they?” he asked.
Lydia rolled her eyes and huffed.
Stiles’ mouth flew open, completely affronted. “They were douchebags to you, Lyds, total douchebags. I mean, part of guy code is that the lady comes first. Obviously, that didn’t happen this time, but I feel like that might be okay given that it was my first time and totally mind-blowing, and the fact that I lasted more than a minute was a Herculean effort. It’s like an unwritten rule, Lydia.”
“Psshh,” Lydia said, flapping her hand in dismissal of the entire subject.
Stiles’ face scrunched up more. He stared hard at her and asked, “Lydia, do you like sex? Like, are you asexual and having sex with me because you think you have to or something?”
“No!” Lydia exclaimed. “I like sex! Sex is great! It’s just, I don’t know. You read all these stories about women leaving their bodies or blacking out or whatever and it’s unrealistic. I mean, it’s fun and it feels good, but men must be writing about women’s orgasms because they have no idea what they’re talking about.”
Stiles quirked his head, looking Lydia in the eyes, and said, “Do you masturbate? I’m not asking for horny purposes - although, again, I have imagined it. I’m gathering information.”
Lydia snorted and said, “Yes, I masturbate. Not a lot, but yes, of course I do. Everyone does, right?”
“That’s what they say,” Stiles answered, continuing, “Have you ever had an orgasm? I just - okay, look - the first time I came, all I could think about was making it happen again. And again and again and again. That first week - I don’t know how Pablo survived the workout I gave him.”
“You named your penis Pablo?” Lydia asked incredulously.
“Well, initially I named it Peter, but then I met Peter Hale and had to come up with a new name,” Stiles answered.
Lydia snorted.
“So have you?” Stiles persisted.
“Well, I mean, yes.” Lydia stated, matter-of-fact, before adding, “Um, yeah - yes, of course, I have!”
Stiles stared open-mouthed at her, eyes scrunched in concentration and thought. After running his tongue back and forth over his bottom lip several times, he asked, “Are you sure? That didn’t sound sure.”
“Stiles, I don’t like when you get that look,” Lydia said. “That’s your, ‘I have something to prove look’ and there’s nothing to prove here.”
Stiles narrowed his eyes further and bit his lower lip.
Something about Stiles biting his lower lip always did Lydia in. She shivered and gasped.
Stiles smirked and said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” as his cock started to plump again against her thigh.
Lydia rolled her eyes, trying to hide her smile. “Is Pablo finding the proceedings interesting?” she teased, reaching down to give Stiles' cock a firm stroke.
The relationship that men had with their penises was something Lydia would never understand.
He threw his head back and moaned.
Lydia's pussy and clit buzzed at Stiles’ uninhibited pleasure. Did he have any idea how hot he was?
“Pablo loves the proceedings. But Pablo isn’t the one getting the attention this time,” he said as he ran his hand down Lydia’s body and cupped her mons. “It’s this little lady’s turn,” he smirked.
Lydia felt herself flush hot and red. Jackson and Aiden had never paid her pussy any attention beyond sticking their penises in it.
What Stiles was doing was new and vulnerable and thrilling.
Stiles’ hand was just there, cupping her, rocking back and forth slowly, his long fingers gently parting her folds and then withdrawing before doing it again, a look of extreme concentration on his face.
"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice raspy and low.
"Yeah," Lydia answered, not meaning to sound so breathy.
"You'll need to let me know if I do something you don't like. This is uncharted territory for me," Stiles said, not taking his eyes off of what his fingers were doing.
"Okay," Lydia whispered as Stiles' finger dipped further into her, entering her, his mouth open as he looked back into her eyes with awe.
"It's so hot and wet," he whispered, probably to himself, but the words affected Lydia just the same. "It's like a little cocoon for Pablo."
Lydia giggled. "My vagina is not a cocoon."
"Pablo wanted to stay in there until he was utterly transformed, so I think cocoon is accurate in this situation," Stiles asserted, biting his tongue as he focused on what his fingers were doing.
Neither Jackson nor Aiden had done anything like this with her. Lydia isn't sure if she would have let them. She hadn't trusted them not to be judgmental or perverted, and they hadn't shown any interest once they'd gotten off, anyway.
What Stiles was doing made her feel like just as much of a virgin as he'd been ten minutes earlier.
He leaned in so that his mouth was touching her ear and whispered, “I’ve always wondered what you taste like.”
Lydia gasped. Her nipples felt impossibly hard and sensitive to the air in Stiles’ bedroom.
“You don’t have to,” she gasped as Stiles brushed his index finger lightly over her clit.
“Is that it, right there?" he asked, circling his finger just the slightest bit harder.
Lydia gasped and pushed her pelvis into Stiles' fingers.
Stiles gave Lydia one of his wicked, knowing smiles and continued, "Just because Jackson and Aiden didn’t eat you out doesn’t mean that’s not something I want to do. I’ve been daydreaming about getting my face between your legs for years, Lyds,” Stiles whispered, his voice hot and heavy and gravely.
Stiles gently flicked her clit, drew circles around it, and tapped on it. Heat pooled in her pelvis.
It had never felt this good when she touched herself. Masturbation was messy. It took too long and no matter what she did, it never seemed to be as good as Cosmo or her girlfriends had led her to believe.
She rarely took the time to masturbate. She'd always had more important things to do.
Stiles touching her was another thing entirely.
She felt Stiles smile against her ear. He asked, “Does that feel good, baby?”
A bolt of unadulterated pleasure shot down her legs. She bucked into Stiles’ hand and gasped, throwing her head back.
"More of that," she gasped. "Do more of that, whatever you're doing."
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Stiles commented, lips moving away from her ear to her neck. Hot breath and wet lips then ran slowly down her chest until they skimmed over her nipple and pleasure zinged through her.
She moaned loud and broken and pleading and lost.
Stiles hummed low in his throat and smiled.
"We'll do more of that, too," he mumbled to himself.
With Jackson or Aiden, she was always as quiet as possible. Had she moaned the way she just had, she would have been mortified. With them, it was always about establishing that she was the one in control. Jackson had been using her and she’d known it, dating her to solidify his position in the Beacon Hills High School hierarchy. He’d been a complete asshole and thrown every issue that she had with their relationship back in her face. She couldn’t afford to be vulnerable around him.
Aiden had simply been a terrible person. But he’d been hot and getting with a bad boy had been thrilling.
One doesn’t show their vulnerabilities to a bad boy.
She trusted Stiles. She’d been vulnerable with him in so many ways prior to this and he’d done nothing but protect and support her. She didn’t feel the need to hold back with him.
He lifted his head from the space between her breasts and said, “God you’re beautiful. I can't believe I'm here with you. I just - I love you. I love you so much."
She was panting as she looked back at him with burning cheeks, her heart beating so hard she could see it in her chest.
His hands skimmed down her belly and sides before she felt him cup her breasts, feeling them with his palms and fingers and brushing at her nipples.
He whispered, "Wow," as her nipples tightened and hardened under his fingers. He pinched them lightly. Pleasure zinged through her, straight to her clit.
She felt him shift, crawling so that he was between her legs. He gathered her in his arms and brushed a piece of hair behind her ear and said, "I can't believe this is happening, that we're here, together.”
Lydia could. Over the last year, being with Stiles had felt inevitable. He’d kissed her and it had felt thrilling but familiar, and then he’d been yanked from reality in front of her eyes. She realized that she loved him when he was gone - when no one else realized that he existed. Even before Scott believed her, she knew that the person she loved was gone and needed to be found.
When Stiles had reappeared earlier that week and kissed her, it felt like home - right, and good, and exactly the way things were supposed to be.
Stiles texted her earlier that evening to chat. He told her he was bored, his dad was at work, and he didn’t know what to do with himself now that he was back in the real world. He just needed to talk to her, to be convinced that he was fine, that the Riders were gone, and that she was safe.
He’d always been respectful and had never pushed for more in the brief time that they’d had together.
She showed up at his house wearing an indecently short skirt that she'd paired with black, over-the-knee hose and a sweater so tight that her mother had tried multiple times to donate it to Goodwill. Underneath she was wearing a red matching bra and panty set that she'd bought specifically to seduce him. He had been speechless when he let her into the house.
She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard, his eyes wide, running up and down her body.
“I didn’t mean that you had to come over,” he said, taking a step away from her.
Boys never stepped away from her when she was dressed the way she’d dressed. For Aiden and Jackson, an outfit like she was wearing had been an unspoken invitation that they’d always accepted.
Stiles was different.
She stepped closer to him and said, “I know. I wanted to. I've wanted to be with you ever since you got back.”
Stiles opened his mouth, looking at her in shock. “You have?” he squeaked.
She nodded and stepped in even closer. “Yes, I have.”
“You’re not wearing a lot of clothing right now," Stiles said, gesturing wildly at her outfit.
"I wonder why I did that?" Lydia asked, tapping her finger against her jaw in mock puzzlement.
Stiles blinked rapidly, his mouth hanging open. "Yeah, um, so right," he finally said, before swallowing hard again.
He rubbed his hand across his mouth and mumbled, "Fuck! Okay, Lydia, I mean, it's not that I haven't dreamed about the moment that you showed up at my door looking, well, quite frankly, like a porn star - a beautiful one and one I love - but still, how did you get that sweater on!" He stared at her breasts for a moment, realized what he was doing, started, turned bright red, and stared into her eyes. "God, okay, I just, are you sure? You know that I'm not - that I haven't…"
Lydia stepped closer, chest to chest with Stiles, and cupped his face. "I know. Stiles, I love you. You disappeared and I did everything that I could to find you and now you're here and we're finally together and I want to have sex with you."
Stiles' eyebrows were in his hairline, he looked so shocked. He blinked a few times with his mouth hanging open before squeezing his eyes shut. He then looked at his hands and counted his fingers.
"There should be ten," she said to him gently.
He breathed out, bit his lip, looked her in the eyes, and whispered, "There's ten. Not a dream."
She cupped his cheek with her hand and reassured him, "Not a dream."
He closed his eyes and leaned into her palm before turning his head and kissing it.
"You're sure?" he asked once again.
She smiled softly at him, answering, "I'm sure. I've been sure for a long time."
He swallowed, nodded, and said, "Okay. So I guess we should go to my room?" sounding throaty and nervous.
They made out for a long time before Stiles built up the courage to let his hands wander. He was an amazing kisser, so Lydia had no complaints. He'd been nervous. His hands had been shaking as he pulled off her sweater and skirt. He looked completely overcome when she'd taken off her bra (he struggled with the hooks), stopping and staring for so long that she'd started to blush.
He'd been apologetic and shy when she undressed him.
"What I've got doesn't compare to Jackson," he said.
She ran her hands down his chest, focusing on their path. He was muscular and lean and had a patch of hair that she raked her fingers through.
He shivered and broke out in goosebumps.
"You've got nothing to apologize about," she reassured him. "Nothing at all, Stiles."
He'd fumbled the condom on and was worried that he'd crush her; her heart swelled with fondness and deep, all-encompassing love. He smiled back before pushing into her.
It had been quick, but it had been full of love and awe and unbridled joy, all things which she'd never associated with sex before.
Stiles was different.
Now he seemed determined to kiss or lick every square inch of her body. His hands never quit searching and feeling. He'd stop every once in a while, looking at the patch of skin he'd been kissing, and mumble something like, "your skin is so soft," or "why do you smell so good," with eyes full of awe before picking a new spot to taste and claim.
It was impossible to lie still; she writhed underneath him, she began to turn her head back and forth, thrashing and falling.
He moved back to her breasts again and squeezed gently, flicking his tongue over the tip of her nipple. Fire zinged to her clit again as she bucked into nothing, gasping at the sensation.
His fingers were back, rubbing her clit with more determination. His mouth left hot trails down her belly as he circled and rubbed.
She wasn't aware of how much noise she was making until Stiles said, "Fuck, you sound so good. You can be as loud as you want. We're alone."
Moans and whimpers fell from her lips; she had no control over them. He pushed a spot above her clit and she gasped and bucked again, grabbing his hand to keep his fingers from moving away.
"Right there?" he asked, his voice low and gravely. "You want me to stay right there?"
"Yes, please," she begged as she felt heat and pleasure and tension building with much more force than it ever had before.
"Whatever you want," he said, concentrating on that magical spot, driving her higher and higher, so high that she felt like she would burst, like her body wanted to explode.
And then it did.
Pleasure ripped through her, so immediate and overwhelming that she couldn't breathe or think. Her legs started shaking uncontrollably and electricity zinged from her clit to her nipples and then throughout her entire body. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth fell open in a silent "o," her back arched. The world faded away momentarily and her pussy throbbed and Stiles' fingers kept moving and it went on and on and on until she was sobbing, closing her legs tight around Stiles' hand, twisting and pulling at Stiles' comforter as she ground up into his fingers, chasing the ecstasy, wanting more, never wanting it to end.
When she came back to herself, Stiles had moved down her body, kissing the jut of her pelvis and running hot lips over her belly.
He smiled up at her and asked, "Did you…"
She giggled hysterically for a moment before she said, "Yeah. I did. I definitely did."
Stiles grinned and did a fist pump.
"Did you really just fist pump while we are having sex?" Lydia asked with a grin and an eye roll.
"Lydia, I am the first person to make you come. Of course I fist pumped. I'm the frigging man!" Stiles explained before his grin turned wicked and he said, "I still haven't gotten to eat you out. Wanna see if I can make it happen again?"
"Yes," Lydia said as heat pooled in her belly again. "I do. I want that."
"I aim to please," Stiles growled before kissing her thighs, and then the spot where her leg met her pelvis. He slowly worked two of his slowly into her pussy, and then back out again, just as slowly.
He got on his knees and spread her open, just looking, mouth agape, curious and overcome.
It took everything in Lydia to let him keep looking, to not reach down and cover herself up and hide from his examination. No one except her gynecologist had ever gotten that up close and personal with her pussy.
At that moment, she realized that up until now, her sex life had been absolute shit. It took Stiles, who up until that evening had been mostly inexperienced, to get her to understand why everyone said sex was so great. It took someone that she trusted and could be vulnerable with.
Someone who loved her enough to want her to come, to enjoy sex.
He whispered, "God, Lydia. Jackson and Aiden missed out. Your pussy is gorgeous," before moving in and licking her from her perineum, over her opening, and up and over her clit.
She couldn't help but gasp. His tongue was hot and velvety and perfect - she'd never felt something so perfect.
He moaned and she could feel it in her stomach. He dipped his tongue into her before looking up at her and saying, "You're amazing. I want you to come again so much," before diving back in and flicking her clit with his tongue.
She reached down, threading her fingers through his hair. He circled his free arm around her thigh and kept licking and sucking and pumping his fingers in and out.
"Stiles," she moaned, "it's so good. It feels so good."
He doubled down, licking with a bit more force. His fingers curled, hitting something that she'd never felt before.
She cried out, "Oh my god, Stiles, there, right there."
He didn't answer, only nodding as he kept licking and pumping and hitting that spot again and again and again, growling as she ground into him.
Her legs started shaking uncontrollably. Her mind went blank. There were no whispering voices, no nagging thoughts, just Stiles and his tongue and fingers. Her pussy was so wet that every time Stiles pumped his fingers squelched, her thighs were wet with it. In the past, something like that, something so noisy and messy and lewd, would have embarrassed her.
She was so lost in the ecstasy that was Stiles' fingers and tongue, that she couldn't find it in herself to care.
The spot started burning, hotter and hotter. Momentarily she felt like she was going to pee all over Stiles' face.
And then she did.
She wailed as her orgasm hit her, pulling at Stiles' hair to get him off of her as she gushed and spasmed and her legs squeezed together and she squeezed her eyes shut because it was so much, more than anything she'd ever felt and even though it overwhelmed her it was amazing and she wanted more and more and more.
Stiles was licking her legs, licking the wet off of her, his irises slivers of whiskey, his cheeks splotchy and red. His hair was a mess from where she'd held on to him. He laved and growled over every inch of her inner thighs and ass and then he lowered her ass onto his knees leaving her feet on his shoulders while reaching over for a new condom.
"I want more," she rasped, surprised at how broken and feral she sounded. "More, Stiles."
He was hurriedly ripping open the condom wrapper. He grinned wickedly at her and growled, "I'm gonna give it to you, baby," low and throaty.
He was so fucking hot.
Then he was sliding back into her with his head thrown back and his mouth hanging open. This time she could feel him everywhere. He pulled out, much more in control than he'd been the first time, and her muscles tightened around him and she felt his head drag across her spot. She ground into him, head thrown back, eyes and mind focused on nothing, chasing the build-up.
"I can't believe I fucking made you squirt. So fucking sexy, wanna make you come until you cry," he growled, eyes closed, holding her ankles as he pushed back into her.
"Yes, oh my God, yes!" she cried out, begging, "Please more! It's amazing, you're amazing."
"God you're gorgeous - fuck!" he cried, driving into her harder and faster.
He was so god damned hot, glaring down at her, nostrils flaring, all his muscles flexed and hard as he ran his eyes down her body to where they were joined. He let go of one of her legs, letting it fall, and pushed his thumb right over her clit, right on the spot that had driven her over the first time.
She cried out, "Yes, yes, yes," meeting him thrust for thrust, grabbing for him so that she could feel him against her.
He let her other leg go and braced his elbow above her shoulder, bringing his mouth to hers, panting hot breaths into her mouth with each thrust, driving his hips into her.
His large palm was holding the top of her head and he'd fallen so that his lips were at the bend of her neck. His hips were bucking into her and that thumb pressed and circled and his cock was so hard and so deep and right where it needed to be and she could feel it creeping up on her, rising and burning.
"I'm gonna come, please make me come," she begged against his shoulder. They were covered in sweat and he tasted of salt, his skin scorching hot.
He drove his hips harder and he grunted into her shoulder, "Fuck, come, Lydia. Come on me."
Her mouth flew open and eyes rolled back and complete rapture tore through her as the world went white. Her fingernails dug into Stiles' ass and he drove into her hard, yelling into her shoulder as he pulsed and spasmed and kept pushing in and her pussy throbbed around him and now she was sobbing again, grinding frantically against him before she froze, her clit suddenly too sensitive. Stiles kept grinding mindlessly into her. She momentarily wondered if she could die from this because it was so much and it wasn't stopping.
Stiles stilled, panting into her shoulder. She clung to him to ground herself, staring at a florescent star on his ceiling, stunned and blank. All that mattered was Stiles' skin and chest moving against hers and his lips that began to roam and brush lazily against her neck and shoulder. Once he pulled out of her he made no move to leave, instead pulling her into his chest more tightly. His eyes wandered over her face, fingertips traced her temples and brows.
"So, Cosmo didn't lie," she rasped. Her throat hurt and her lips were dry.
Stiles sniggered. "It didn't? I was okay?"
Lydia snorted, answering, "That was - I get it now. That was amazing."
Stiles rose up on his elbows and smiled down at her. "Yeah?" he asked.
"Yeah," Lydia sighed.
"I'm happy you liked it because it was the single greatest thing that I have ever done. There is absolutely no competition." Stiles exclaimed, smiling with wonder.
"When can we do that again?" Lydia asked.
Stiles chortled. "Well, pretty soon, actually. My refractory period is pretty healthy. But, um, I was wondering if maybe we could take a shower? Together?"
"I've never taken a shower with another person," Lydia admitted.
"I have taken showers with so many dudes it's not funny. Something tells me taking a shower with you will be much more fun - that is, if you want to. You don't have to," Stiles said.
Lydia cupped his face in her hands and looked him in the eyes. "I want to, Stiles," she said before bringing her lips to his.
When they pulled apart, Stiles said, "How did I get so lucky?"
"I fell in love with you, it had nothing to do with luck," Lydia answered.
"I love you, too, Lydia, so much that I can't say, that there aren't words for it," Stiles avered with fire in his eyes.
They showered in Stiles' shower. He washed her with gentle, sensual hands, looking at her with reverence. They kissed lazily until the hot water ran out, and then he dried her off and combed her hair.
No one had ever touched her the way that Stiles did.
Stiles found a t-shirt, sweats, and socks for her.
"There is no way I am letting other people see you in that sweater, Lydia. Is it for a child? I mean, seriously, how did you get it on?" he'd babbled as he dug around in his dresser.
They stripped the bed and remade it, she snuggled into the covers while Stiles put the sheets and comforter in the washer.
He seemed surprised to see her in his bed when he walked back into the room.
"Does your dad work all night?" Lydia asked.
Stiles opened and closed his mouth before saying, "Yeah, he gets off at 7:00. Are you staying? You look like you're staying."
"Can I?" She asked.
"I want you to. I've dreamt about waking up next to you," he answered.
"Me, too," she admitted.
"Really?" Stiles asked.
"Yeah, I have."
He climbed into his bed and turned toward her, his eyes roaming over her face. "I feel like my dreams are coming true laying here looking at you."
She smiled, heart full, realizing, "I feel like that, too."