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It was a night worth celebrating. Bella Saltzman and her cousin Petra, who’d been down to visit her favorite baby-cousin, were in high spirits at a popular gin-joint off campus, and Petra was more than happy to flash cash.
“Drinks all around, people,” Petra cheered, her arm thrown around Bella’s shoulder. “One More State and Women’s Suffrage is Ratified!”
Cheers of joy and excitement shouted back, lots of ladies in heavy kohl makeup and some even daringly sporting trousers, lead the rallying cry as they raised their glasses high. Among this crowd, of course, were some of Boston’s local artists and musicians, and students hopeful to be either. In that number, stood Arthur Lester, who waited until Petra had swanned away to the bartender to pay for the next few rounds and flirt with some admirers.
“Your cousin really is something,” Arthur commented at Bella’s ear, and ducked back just in time to avoid her instinctive swing around. “Hello, Saltzman.”
“Arthur Lester!” Bella grinned and pulled him into an appropriately quick hug, holding him out at arm’s length by his wrists. “What are you doing here tonight? Thought you’d be noodling away in the music rooms still.”
“Well…” Arthur shrugged lightly. “Came out to celebrate, I s’pose.”
“Women’s suffrage?” Bella asked, eyebrow raised and pleasantly surprised.
“Ah, no. N-not that I’m not happy for that!” Arthur added quickly when he saw her disappointment. “I only just learned about it now. Here. From your cousin.” He laughed, a weak sound. “I’m…well, it’s my birthday.”
“Oh! Well, happy birthday, Arthur!” Bella clapped him gently on the arm. “Who are you here with?”
“Um, nobody, actually,” Arthur admitted with a wince, and dropped his gaze, not wanting to see any pity on her face. “Just…I usually grab a drink or two by myself on the day.”
“Usually?” Bella frowned. “How old are you now?”
“20.” He cleared his throat. “I’m…it’s not generally a great day for me.”
Without another word of it, Bella took him by the elbow, steering Arthur toward the back of the bar. A band struck up soon after, and Petra was hot on the dancefloor, trusting her cousin to handle her own while she caroused the night away. Bella had the foresight to snag some drinks for them, and passed one along to Arthur.
“Well, tonight, Arthur Lester, we’re gonna turn that around,” Bella lifted her glass, the first of what would be many, and toasted Arthur’s glass. “To Better Birthdays!”
“To Equal Rights!” Arthur grinned.
“Oh, you can’t top my toast like that!” Bella mock-swatted at Arthur’s hand, and knocked back her drink much faster than he did his. “Just like a man.”
“Ah, just like a woman could be also,” Arthur pointed out, grinning as he wagged his finger and dodged another swat.
“Oh, I’ll show you what a woman could be also, Arthur,” she goaded, grinning quite devilishly for a deacon’s daughter.
“I’d love to see that,” Arthur replied perhaps…a bit too honestly. An awkward pause settled between them, and the two tossed back another couple shots of whiskey. It was apparent that Bella had also perhaps been imbibing before arriving. Arthur certainly had been, or else he would never have been so free with his words. Now it seemed as though he’d really put his foot in it.
“I’m…uh, sorry if that was—”
“Do you mean it?” Bella asked, low and quiet, leaning forward to be heard over the din. “Because…I wouldn’t be lying if I said I came out tonight prepared to…have a bit of adventure here.”
“R-really?” Arthur’s eyebrows shot up, and he could feel his face flushing with color. Lucky for him, that seemed to endear him further to the Beautiful Bella Saltzman.
“Really, really,” she smiled impishly, and finished off the rest of his whiskey. “Might like to have some adventure with you…if you meant it.”
“I…I did,” Arthur breathed out, swallowing around the nervous lump in his throat. “I think…I’ve heard some…stories. Stories about women who…er…take the leading role, as it were.”
Bella snorted. “Do you mean women fucking men, Arthur? Fucking a man like a man would?”
Arthur shifted in his seat, and for a moment Bella’s blue eyes went dark and hungry, like a wolf’s. Heat flushed through him and squirmed in his gut. “Yes.”
“And that’s something that interests you, birthday boy?” Bella’s hand reached out, teasingly stroking the back of Arthur’s hand.
“It is,” Arthur swallowed, throat dry. “Very much.”
“Well, then it’s a good thing you came here tonight.” Bella grinned, took up her purse from beside her on the bench seat, and gave a wave to Petra. Petra, spotted her, and gave a wave back before letting a handsome young woman in a zoot suit spin her around the floor.
“C’mon,” Bella took Arthur’s hand, and lead him through an Employee’s Only door.
That’s how they ended up here, in a backroom at gin joint that seems to be so much more than a gin joint. It’s how Arthur now finds himself wearing only his boxers, sock garters and Bella’s dress, while she slips on his shirt over her brazier and bloomers. There’s a single dresser with a wash basin on it back here, and a dingy old mattress with one sheet, and a hanging oil lamp at the back of the room.
Bell lit the oil lamp as soon as they came in here, as it seems she’s been here before enough to know it comfortably. Hell, she had a key to open it up even in that purse of hers…along with other items. She really had planned for adventure tonight.
“Not getting cold feet, are we?” she asks him as she slips out a sort of hip-harness that she steps into and slides over her legs. Fastened in the center of it, daunting and wiggling, is a rubber penis. It can’t be more than five inches long, maybe an inch or so thick around, but it seems like a yardarm in that moment. However, Arthur is stubborn, and determined.
“Not at all,” he replies with a jut of his chin, and settles in the middle of the bed, half-sitting up, legs out. “What a lovely penis you have there, Miss Saltzman.”
“Thanks, doll.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then both of them are cracking up. It’s good at breaking the tension, and Arthur lets out a relaxed sigh, smiling as Bella takes out a jar of petroleum jelly, setting it to the side. The fact that she’s so prepared is…genuinely relieving to him.
"You know, it's...It's my first time," Arthur admits, and lets out a nervous exhalation disguised as a laugh. "I hope that...that's not a problem."
"Really?" Bella pauses in adjusting the leather strap about her hips. She fights back a smile at the adorable, offended scowl Arthur responds with.
"Yes, really. Do you have a problem with that, Madame Suffragette?"
"Do not take that tone with me, Arthur Lester."
The hard foundation of her gentle voice coupled with her pointed stare settled the matter. Arthur did not like to be pushed, but he could be brought to heel if one showed their confidence. Bella feels he simply needed someone to know what to do, to guide him without shoving. She can be that right now for him.
"Sorry," Arthur mutters, gaze dropped and widening at the visual reminder of who's in charge tonight waggles with Bella's movements between her hips.
"All forgiven, sweet thing," she soothes, and plucks at the strap of his sock-garters, letting it snap back against his skin. Her grin at his surprised yelp is anything but ladylike. “To answer your question: no. It will not be a problem. As long as you’re sure this is how you want your first time to go.”
“A flower unplucked is but left to the falling,” Arthur recites, his smile shy and sweet. “And nothing is gained by not gathering roses.”
He emphasizes this, by touching one of the petals of the silk white rose still pinned to the front of Bella’s dress, just over his heart.
“Who’s that then? Longfellow?”
“Robert Frost,” he answers promptly, but is clearly far more relaxed again, and sure of this. Exactly what Bella is looking for. “Seemed…fitting.”
"Mm, okay, Arthur,” she decides, resting her hands over his thighs, leaning her weight there a little. “You'll need to be very vocal with me then tonight. Let me know what you're liking."
Bella's nails scraped along Arthur's thigh, and he sighed softly head falling back as he let his legs fall open.
"And what you don't like too, Arthur."
"I'm liking everything right now," he slurs, lifting his head up to stare at her with eyes darkened by drink, lust, and the low light of the dingy backroom they're in.
"Well of course, darling, I'm good at this and you're a horny virgin."
"Pfft! Piffle."
"Piffle? Oh gosh, Arthur, you're just the cutest."
Bella cuts off any argument there by grabbing him at both ankles and dragging his scrawny ass down the mattress hard. The only thing keeping the bed on its box spring is her knee pressing against it for leverage, since Arthur dramatically clung onto the thin sheet beneath him.
"Fucking hell, Bella! Warn a fella next time, hm?"
"Alright. Heads up, Arthur."
Bella wastes no time tugging Arthur's boxers down around his ankles, and takes him once again by them both to force his legs up and bend Arthur near double at the waist.
"O-oh," he whispers, a soft breath whooshing out of him as he stares up at Bella, hallowed by the flickering light an oil lamp casts on the ceiling above them. Her hair is stacked up on her head, but pins have come loose, leaving locks and strands of it to dangle around her shadowed face like vines over a forgotten temple edifice. She is beautiful.
"Keep looking at me like that and I'm liable to blush, Arthur," she murmurs, voice low and throaty as she slips into the circle of his legs, letting them slide down her sides before resting over her hips.
It feels right, like he's meant to be here always. The warmth of illicit drink suffusing his body moves with his blood, concentrating on his dick, which has valiantly won against whiskey and now stands at full attention. It's rewarded by Bella's cool, soft fingers sliding along the shaft of it, scratching long nails through the thatch of curling hair at its pace, and teasing back up with a much gentler scratch.
"Oh...Bella," Arthur pants, already squirming a bit. He knew someone else touching him would feel different, and possibly better, but this...it's everything. How could he go back to simply dealing with morning wood himself when his mind now knows it could have this instead?
That is definitely the drink and the hormones talking, he figures, but then Bella's kissing him, devouring his mouth and smearing her dark lip paint over him, transferring it as if completing the ritual of traditional roles and power exchanging.
"There," she soothes, dropping a shorter kiss to his agape mouth. "Matches your new dress too, darling."
"Bella," Arthur whimpers, his hands going up to grip the front of her shirt—his shirt, and oh would it still smell of her tomorrow? he hoped so--as he bucks his hips in need. "I need...I need—"
"I know just what you need, darling," she interrupts, pressing a finger to his lips, and shushing him. "What you need...is my cock."
Arthur's eyes roll back in his head, and he arches his back, pushing his chest forward, tightening his legs around her hips. "Christ, Bella, yes. Th-that, I ...I need that."
"Need what, Arthur?" Bella's being cruel now, she knows it, but it provides her some time to scoop more petroleum jelly out and onto her fingers. Her eyes are hooded, mischievous as she watches Arthur blush and squirm beneath her.
"N-need," Arthur pants, biting his bottom lip and tasting the plum-colored paint she's left there. It's not particularly pleasant, but Bella's fingers are distracting enough from the taste. "Bella, please, I can't think!"
"Oh, I know you can, Arthur," she presses and does the same with her fingers at his tight and puckered hole, a breathy laugh responding to his startled twitch. "You need..."
"I... need," he repeats, relaxing in increments as she massages at him, her thumb and fore finger pressing and teasing at the muscle as it loosens for her.
"My...?"
She's waiting for an answer, finger pressing and wiggling lightly against his hole. Arthur gives in with a punched-out gasp.
"Your cock," he pleased, closing his eyes tightly as his face burns. "I need your cock, Bella, please, please fuck me? Ah!"
"Shh," she soothes, pressing her finger in past the second knuckle, working it back and forth and teasing around the edges of his hole that's gripping tight to her. "So good, Arthur, just breathe, pet."
"H-how," he gasps, not listening. "How do you kn-know what--fuck, Christ, Bella."
"Well, this isn't my first time," Bella tells him, low and trusting, her free hand petting over his heaving chest. "Arthur, you're going to hyperventilate. If you don't calm down and breathe slowly, I'm stopping."
"N-no!"
"Then breathe," she instructs, calm and firm. "Breathe with me, okay? In, 1-2-3-4, and now out: 1-2-3-4-5. Alright? In..."
Arthur breathes in, focusing on her face, so sure and calm and caring, and it makes his eyes tear up a little. He breathes out, and a single traitorous tear trickles down his cheek. Bella smooths it away with her thumb, the finger of her other hand still gently stroking and petting inside of him.
"B-better," Arthur manages after a few moments, sniffling once.
"You sure?" Her brows pinch together, worried.
"I'm sure," Arthur sighs, relaxing fully again, his cock twitching slowly back to rigidity as he focuses on her face, her fingers. All of them. "It... it’s good. Great."
"Well," Bella's smile is wry, her thumb teasing now at his entrance, working slowly inside. "First time I've gotten someone crying before I put my dick in them."
Arthur laughs, wild and free at that, and Bella feels something swoop in her gut, like taking the Ferris Wheel at Coney Island with Petra. This man is beautiful, even more so somehow with tears glittering in his gray-blue eyes. She slips her thumb inside him while he's giggling, stuttering the sound with his gasp as she scissors him open gently.
"You—You're really good at that," he manages, breathless and flushed.
"You only have your own hand for comparison, but, yes," she preens, leaning down to reward him with a kiss. "I am. Thank you."
"I want you."
"I know."
Bella strokes and stretches him, smearing as much of the jelly she can, and slowly pulls out of him. She smirks at his whining when all she does next is add more lubricant and her fingers once again.
"Bella, please, I'm ready."
"I know you think that, baby," Bella soothes, slipping in just a little bit of condescension to tease, cupping his face. "But who's making decisions for you tonight?"
"You are," he answers obediently, lower lip pouting just a bit even as he stares up at her. "Soon?"
Bella feels that swoop again. He's so sweet, trusting, and still able to push back. He has spine and spirit, but also devotion unbowed. This man could eat up people if he wants; but he doesn't. It's why she agreed to this tonight, birthday gift or not.
"Soon," she promises, and her kiss is tender, lingering. It's almost too real, too much feeling for her, and so she slips a third finger inside of him as she does it. The distraction of his gasp and moan helps slide her back into the position she's taken tonight, and puts those fuzzier feelings on hold.
"Oh, fuck, Bella," Arthur whines, rocking his hips a bit down onto her fingers. "It...it feels like...I don't even know the words."
"A first for you," Bella grins against his mouth, and then straightens up. "But I know what you mean. Heads up, Arthur."
"Wha—AH! Oh—mmf!"
Bella's hand is quick to cover his mouth, muffling his shout as her middle finger presses firmly against his prostate. His legs kick out straight on either side of her, muscles taut and trembling as she rubs mercilessly against that little nodule of nerves. Arthur's gasping behind her hand, writhing and jerking in tiny little movements as cum dribbles down his cock.
Slowly, she slides her fingers out of him, and returns to the jelly while Arthur catches his breath. His legs have fallen limp and hanging off the bed's edge, cum sprinkled over his belly just beneath where her dress on him is rucked up. Luckily, he doesn't drive himself to near hyperventilation again, so she leaves him to it as she slips up her cock.
"Good?" Her voice is innocent, sweet. She laughs when Arthur flips her the bird in reply.
"What...was that?" Arthur manages once his breathing is on his side again.
"That, darling, was the wonderous power of your prostate." Bella steps backwards over the boxers chaining Arthur's ankles, and away from the bed. "The Church doesn't want us to know about it, so congratulations. You've found one more way tonight to piss them off."
Arthur sits up on his elbows, and blinks at her. Then a slow grin spreads over his face.
"Happy birthday," Bella smiles. "Now, get on your hands and knees, darling."
Arthur rolls over immediately complying, and only hesitates once he's got his knees bent under him. He glances over his freckled shoulder, the neckline of her dress sliding askew to expose it, and watches as she plucks his boxers free of his ankles.
"Can't...can't I face you?"
His voice is so soft and sweet, it's nearly heartbreaking. Bella strokes her hand over his ass--poor thing's so flat she'll need to be mindful not to bruise herself on it--and shakes her head.
"This position's best for your first time, darling," and she takes the shiver and quiet moan from him as all good signs. "Next time, I'll take you on your back."
Next time? Has she already decided there will be a next time? Bella bites her lip, ready to amend and assuage, to dismiss what she just said, but stops as Arthur relaxes with a contented sigh.
"I'd like that," he murmurs, and drops his chest down to the mattress, cheek resting on his folded arms as he smiles gently. "Next time. I'll hold you to it."
"It's a date," Bella says, and feels a giddy lightness in her chest that normally only follows a stolen kiss from a pretty girl. Though, she supposes, Arthur is a very pretty girl right now, and so that's just fine.
She slathers a bit more jelly over him, getting an irritated little grunt as she smears the excess over his sack and thighs until he's shiny and slick all over. Because she's feeling cheeky, she swats him twice on the ass, pinking up the skin nicely on each cheek.
"Ah! H-hey," he whines, but otherwise takes it beautifully, staying in his position still.
"Sorry, darling, I just couldn't resist," Bella drops an apologetic kiss at the base of his spine, and leaves the faint ghost of her lips behind. The look of her own personal mark on him somewhere so intimate and telling sends a thrill through her, and she's soon pressing the head of her strap inside of Arthur's stretched-but-still-tight hole.
"Ohh," he moans into his arms, tightening around her visibly as his muscles flex and tense. Arthur relaxes again a moment later, and she's so proud that she didn't have to tell him to that she hears herself praising him with cooing whispers.
"So good, my darling, so good for me," Bella says as her hips move with shallow thrusts, easy rocking motions that seat her a little further inside of Arthur with each motion. "Just like that, sweetheart. Keep breathing, nice and steady. Push out on me a little--yes, just like that."
In one sudden slide, she's flush against him, bottomed out to the base of her strap, and Arthur groans. It's a low, almost-broken sound, and it heats Bella's blood more than any drink they've had tonight. Her hand pets up his back, pushing more of her dress up until she's worked it over his head and the fabric now bunches up around his arms.
"Bella!" Arthur cries out, muffled in her dress, as she shifts against him. Clearly she's nudged his new friend Mr. Prostate, and a quick exploration between his legs informs her he's hard once more. "Hnng! Oh, please, fuck, please move, Bella."
"Of course, darling." She kisses over his sweat-damp shoulder. "Now...I won't stop until you say 'stop.' But I will stop. Do you understand?"
"Hnng. Yes, I do," he whimpers, shaking already.
"Alright. Happy Birthday, darling."
Bella kisses the corner of his mouth, and then settles back into standing. The bed is gratefully low enough that she's got an excellent angle for Arthur, and Arthur's definitely close enough to spilling again that this shouldn't take too long. Her thighs are drenched with her own pleasure, and she has to toss Arthur's shirt off to the side to help cool herself down.
By the time it hits the floor, Bella has Arthur by the hips and is fucking steadily into him.
The springs are squeaking in time with her pace, but it's nothing that could be heard over the bar's brassy big band music. Nothing that would draw attention or concern like a sudden shout might do. All the more reason to be so proud of Arthur, who's only needed silencing once, and is now dutifully moaning and crying out into her dress and the mattress.
"You're so beautiful," she pants, thighs slapping against Arthur's as she thrusts faster into him. "Look at you, taking me so wonderfully, darling."
"Ah, yes," Arthur cries out, turning his head to the side again to tearfully look back at her, lipstick smeared in a streak from his lips to the corner of his mouth. "Bella..."
"You were made for this, weren't you?" She croons, nails leaving lines down his back. "Made to take my cock, to be crying beneath me like this, weren't you?"
"Yes," he breathes out, unblinking as he fixes on her. "I was."
"Fuck," her hips stutter, clit throbbing behind her harness, and picks up the pace, barely leaving Arthur's hole before thrusting back into it again. "So eager to spread your legs for me. Can't believe I've turned this sweet little virgin into such a wanton whore."
Oh, that may have been a bit too much. Arthur is still rather new to this, and—
"Your whore," Arthur moans, arching his back further, rocking his hips now to meet her thrusts. "Fuck, Bella, please, fuck me, fuck me fuck me, god fuck me!"
"Yes, Arthur, yes," Bella's hand grips Arthur by the back of the neck, pressing his face harder into her dress and the mattress, her hips snapping with brutal need now. "Take it, Arthur, take me. Take all of me."
"Yes!" he shouts muffled into the bed, gripping desperately at the sheets, sobbing. "Yes! Please!"
"Arthur, shit fuck!" Bella's hips jerk and spasm, an orgasm suddenly striking her like a police blackjack at a rally, and she grips tight to him like her life depends on it.
When the aftershocks are settling to gentle waves, she remembers poor Arthur, weeping and shaking on her rubber dick still, and takes pity. Her hand gently grips hold of his red and swinging cock, and barely twists on an upstroke before he's spilling over her fingers and onto the filthy sheets.
Wiping her hand clean on a dry bit of bedding next to them first, Bella carefully pulls out from Arthur. Gently, she touches around his rim, ignoring his hissing protests from over-sensitivity. She's proud to see no blood or any damage beyond a bit of puffy irritation, and guides Arthur down to lay on his side, away from the damp spots he created on the bed.
"Lay there, catch your breath," she instructs, already calming as she slips into caretaker mode and removes the harness from around her hips. Glad to be free of the sweaty thing, she drops the strap on a table beside their basin, and wets a couple of clothes in the cool water already poured.
Bella tends to herself first, giving Arthur some more time to ground himself a bit, as that's what she usually needs, and once she's got Arthur's shirt back on, she returns to him with a cloth of his own. She's a bit surprised to find him silently weeping, curling up in self-comfort.
Well, that won't do at all.
“Hey, handsome,” she greets softly, taking up the cool rag and settling beside him on the mattress. His little flinch doesn’t offend, since she knows how sensitive he must feel and cold cloth always startles before it soothes, but she does worry. Bella lets him sit in the quiet as she cleans up his legs, resting a bracing, reassuring hand on his hip as she brings it up over his scrotum and between his cheeks to get the last of the lubricant.
“What happened to ‘beautiful?’” Arthur attempts to joke, voice still tight and choked up, as he wipes at his face with the heel of his hand.
“Hey there, beautiful,” she amends, kissing his temple, and causing a shiver when her breath ghosts over his ear. “Talk to me?”
“I’m fine, I swear. I’m just… feeling a lot,” he answers, and she believes him. After a moment, he turns on his other side to face her, looking up with the saddest, wettest eyes that put most baby animals to shame. “This has been the best birthday I’ve ever had.”
“Oh, Arthur,” Bella is not made of stone, much as she wishes sometimes to be. She drops the rags where they land with a wet plop on the floor, and lays down beside him. Her arms pull him into her, and hold him tight. Arthur hides his face against her chest, a move she’d blind other men over, but with Arthur, he seeks only comfort and privacy offered there. He shakes a little as he rides out more tears, and she combs her fingers through his hair, scratching lightly over his scalp.
Christ, she hopes he doesn’t fall in love with her over this. Not like other men might. She does love him a little, but she knows she can be responsible with it. Knows her limits and what she can and can’t do for someone like Arthur Lester, but he’s been a lot of fun and he’s ever-so-sweet. It’d be a shame to break his heart.
“Bella,” he sniffles, sounding a bit more put together now, and he shifts his head back to rest more on the meat of her bicep to better see her. At her inquiring hum, he continues: “Could…we do that again sometime?”
Bella grimaces internally, and perhaps a bit externally too, as Arthur’s expression soon closes up. He adds, quickly, “I mean, we don’t have to. I just…don’t know anyone else I could…trust to do something like this with.”
She arches a brow, “…Sodomy?”
Arthur makes a face. “Don’t call it that.”
“Well, it is technically accurate. The church—”
“I didn’t know it was your father who fucked me tonight.”
That comes like a slap in the face, and Bella is left stunned and blinking.
“…I’m sorry,” Arthur softens, and hesitantly rests a hand on her cheek. “I just…I’ve never really…had an interest in doing anything like this much with someone before. But…I like you. You’re my friend, Bella. I know I can trust you…you’re safe.”
“…You’re my friend too, Arthur,” Bella admits, just as soft, and the hard knot of worry in her chest finally unbinds. “Of course we can do it again.”
“Fantastic,” Arthur sags with relief in her arms, and rests beneath her chin, skinny legs tucked up and daring to slip between her own for warmth and comfort. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll get good enough that you won’t have to do all the work.”
“Mm, that would be nice,” Bella agrees with a cheeky grin. “Alright…ten more minutes, then we dress up and get the hell outta here.”
“Sounds good to me,” Arthur yawned, snuggling in closer. “Their piano needs tuning.”
Bella and Arthur giggled, and she teased him while he pretended offense. They both redress and leave a few minutes later, parting ways with friendly kisses to each other’s cheek. It’s not until he’s back at his dorm room on campus and his irritable roommate points it out, that Arthur realizes he still has Bella’s lipstick smeared across his face.
He can’t even be cross about it.