A/N: I wrote a short and extended version of the story. I just couldn't decide which one I preferred. Chapter 1 is the short version and chapter 2 the more detailed version. Pick whichever one you like.

Tonight was just like any other. A woman hooking on to his facade of attentiveness and then being reeled in by his witty and seductive conversation and subtle physical advances. The final landing was never difficult and often had been dead certain from the first moment of eye contact.

Here she was, the same as so many others before. Her childish brown curls swishing around as she straddled him on the bed. A silly headband failing to have any control, clearly just a lame accessory used to draw attention to her plain self. Her oddly small hands just followed the usual pathway. Up to his chest, grabbing his shoulders, running back down to his belt, a boring 'will she-won't she' as her fingers slide under his waist band but then out of it again and again.

She should put a bit more effort into kissing him effectively. He should not have to try to stay hard. His own hands performed the same show as so many times before. Politely starting on the back of her thighs just above the knee. Pretending every centimetre climbed towards her centre excited him more and more so that she would be encouraged. It didn't really. Her skin felt scratchy under his finger tips and the lace of her French knickers cheap once he reached them.

Now she was doing that thing at the base of his neck that women seemed to think he would enjoy. Tickling him a bit and tangling her finger tips into the hair there. If he had been looking for a head massage he would have gone somewhere authentic to ensure a decent experience.

He flipped her down into the mattress in an attempt to speed things along a bit. He could probably get out of here in the next 20 minutes if he took control now. He mentally referred to his extensive toolkit of moves and techniques to hurry things along. Hopefully this extra effort he was having to make due to her obvious inexperience would be worth it, but he probably should have gone for someone else that evening. She let out a few irritating giggles and gasps before events reached a natural end.

She was similar to the many before. The same could have happened with anyone. She wasn't anything special.

Yeh right. Who do you think you're kidding? He scolded himself. She's so much more than any woman that's ever existed. Rewind.

Despite the immense pleasure he was feeling he made his eyes stay open in order to take in every inch of her, every gesture and movement she made. He lifted up his hands to her glorious curls that felt like silk on his finger tips. He slid off the bejewelled headband that was so often her statement piece. Like the scarf habit of his own, it was her way of making her mark and standing out independently from the many cloned students of Constance. It had become the beacon that his eyes would look for when he was desperate for a glimpse of her to lift his spirit on a dull day of school. She ran her hands up his chest, over his thumping heart and onto his shoulders. Her nails dug into him as though she feared he might try and flee but he would never abandon this. Her delicate and feminine hands moved back down to his stomach and he felt like he would lose control as she teased her way beneath his waist band. "Not so fast gorgeous" he rasped as he pulled her hands back out, worried by the risk of a truly school boy ending to this passion.

He tore away her dressing gown and she helped him shrug out of his clothes whilst continuing to overwhelm his lips and mouth with her warm tongue. He tried to slowly work his hands up her warm and smooth thighs. It took all his will power not to just plunge his fingers into her heat. Her fingers had found the back of his neck and were caressing the skin and tugging naughtily at his hair. It felt like she was plugging into his brain, his soul, and taking complete control of him. His hands had reached her ass and he was desperate to rip away the soft lace knickers that provided the final barrier between them. He flipped her off him and rolled onto her, his fingers grabbing and tugging a handful of lace away from her. Inside of him he knew there was an endless pool of energy and desire to please her. As he finally pushed into her their bodies moulded into a rhythm so easily. Some of her purrs and gentle moans sounded like a woman far more mature than her 17 years. When they were followed by sweet gasps and seductive giggles he was reminded of her youth and innocence. When it came back to him that he was her first, that he was the only man in the world to have had her, he couldn't hold himself together another second longer. He woke slowly as she twisted in his arms. Her back was pressed into his chest, his legs were tucked up under hers and his arms held her close to him. As hazy twinkles cleared from his vision he realised the sun had risen across her bedroom. He slowly recalled the events of a Friday night that had begun with him alone in his suite and ended here. It was the first in a long time that was spent sober. It was the first time he hadn't cared for his own pleasure at all. It was the first time he'd spent the entire night with a woman in his arms. It was the first time he'd felt it. Love.