First Encounters--A Harold and Beccah Story
Alright, been thinking about this for a little bit now. I've always wanted to show the side story of Harold and Beccah, and what happened that fateful night in the hotel. I think the pair of them have developed to a point where they deserve their own little segments. I hope you guys enjoy!
First Encounters--A Harold and Rebeccah Story
_We're both looking for something
We've been afraid to find
It's easier to be broken
It's easier to hide_
_Looking at you, holding my breath,
For once in my life, I'm scared to death,
I'm taking a chance, letting you inside._
_Feeling alive all over again,
As deep as the sky, under my skin
Like being in love, she says
For the first time
Maybe I'm wrong,
But I'm feeling right where I belong
With you tonight
Like being in love
To feel for the first time_
-Lifehouse, "First Time"
Rebeccah watched as Zee and Luca cuddled on the couch. Their drinking session already seemed to be drawing to a close, and the music had been turned off thanks to complaints by half their neighboring rooms. Beccah pouted slightly as she watched the lovely couple, wanting such a feeling so badly. Even with the events of that night, Zee and Luca were still mad for each other. Beccah set the bottle of rum she'd been holding on the counter of the kitchenette in the suite, looking out the window at Central Park. She suddenly had the crazy urge to go out there, to hide amongst the trees and pathways. But she knew the stories about Central Park at night.
Rebeccah shook her head as she relegated herself to the bedroom. Zee and Luca were supposed to have been the ones to take that room, but with Harold passed out the way he was, she figured that changed. When she opened the door, however, she found Harold sitting on the side of the bed, looking out another window that overlooked the park.
"Hey you," Beccah said in a soft whisper. "You're awake?"
Harold turned and looked at Rebeccah, his glasses glinting some of the residual light from the street lamps. Otherwise, his face was barely discernable. "Hey... Yeah, I've been up a little while now. I didn't want to intrude on you guys." Was his voice always that nice? Beccah wondered to herself.
"No, you wouldn't be intruding," she said, sitting beside him. "You're one of us now, anyway."
"You mean that?" Harold said, sounding grateful.
"Of course. Who else are you going to be aligned with, anyway? We're the freaks of the freak crowd at this point."
Harold shrugged. "I guess it doesn't seem so odd for me. I've always been low man on the totem pole. I never had any delusions about being popular. I just want to be me."
"Really?" Beccah said. Harold nodded. "That sounds nice. So if I may dare ask: who is Harold Lauder?"
Harold smiled ever so slightly. "Just because I want to be me, doesn't mean I know what that is yet. But if I had to answer your question, I guess what I have so far is what I want to be. And that is a loyal, caring, thoughtful person."
"Well so far you're doing a really good job," Beccah said with a warm smile. Was she really feeling these tugs at her heart strings? She bit her lip, composing herself, turning her gaze out to the city.
"Do you think the stars are out tonight?"
"It's New York City. The stars are never out."
"Oh I know, but I mean if all this wasn't here. Do you think we'd see the stars clearly tonight?"
"I would like to think so," Beccah said, looking up at the bluish-black sky with the white haze filling the horizon. She could barely make out a single star in the sky, just to the right of the moon. "There's one."
"Oh that's no star," Harold said with a pleasant smile.
"Then what is it?" Beccah asked, looking at him.
"Mars. You see how it doesn't twinkle? It's just a steady light in the sky."
"Yeah."
"Stars don't do that. Their light is varied, complex. Mars is just a static reflection of what our own sun is producing."
"Oh," Beccah said, feeling a little outmatched intellectually.
"But considering the night, it might be the right kind of thing to have sailing through the sky."
"Why do you say that?"
Harold smirked. "Mars, god of war. And we have the valiant Luca Reingold, confidently conquering the stage and vanquishing her most terrible foe. If it were Roman times, it would have been a valiant battle on the floor of the Coliseum."
"You really are a hopeless romantic."
"That's one part of Harold Lauder I wasn't going to go announcing."
"It's ok... I like that part of Harold Lauder." Beccah looked to him. Harold smiled sheepishly. She placed her hand on his, interlacing their fingers together. She inched towards him until their arms were pressed together, and she laid her head on his shoulder. "You're a really sweet guy, Harold. A girl would be lucky to have you."
"You mean you don't already?" he asked, naïvely innocent. For Beccah, this had been a date. For Harold, it was more than that. But still, she had to smile. Beccah had to admit, she did like this guy.
"Would you want that?"
"Only if you do."
"Don't give me that," Beccah said, turning so she was facing Harold. He turned to face her as well. "Tell me, do you want me?"
"Well... yes." Harold said. "I mean, to be your boyfriend, not necessarily a l-l-lover or anything, you know. I mean, I wouldn't want to press you int--"
Rebeccah cut Harold off by pulling him into a soft, gentle kiss. She murred ever so softly as she pulled away, and stroked Harold's cheek. "And there, I have seen the adorably befuddled side of Harold Lauder."
Harold laughed nervously. "Can't say that's a side I wanted too public, either," he said.
"Well if you want to just be you, Harold, you can't just be hiding aspects of you that you find so undesirable. Besides, so far as I see, I like all sides of you, even the parts you don't seem to like so much yourself."
Harold could only smile warmly in return. Beccah was starting to really feel the exhaustion of the dance catching up with her, and she lay down across the bed. She held out a hand to Harold, who immediately took it, and pulled him down with her. She snuggled up against him, and promptly fell asleep.
It was nearly four in the morning when a slamming door from down the hall woke Rebeccah from her dream. The problem was, however, that slamming door sounded a lot louder and a whole lot more like something crashing down on her in the distorted reality that was her dream state. She tensed up, suddenly afraid of where she was, what was going on, clinging more tightly to Harold. After a few moments, she realized where she was, what was going on, and relaxed slowly.
"Hey, you ok?" Harold said groggily.
"I'm so sorry," Beccah whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"Hey, it's ok. Much better than getting woken up by my dad kicking me out of bed for school. At least now the beautiful girl in my dreams is in my arms when I wake up."
"You're too cute," Beccah said, kissing Harold on the cheek. That is when the young hyena turned towards her, his eyes barely perceptible in the darkness. The moon had come and gone, and the electric glow from the street lamps below didn't produce enough of a glow to lighten up the room. Beccah leaned in, kissing Harold full on the lips, wrapping both arms around him.
Harold turned in her arms, and before Rebeccah knew it, they were making out, pressed against each other, their breath coming in hot and heavy gasps. Beccah bit her lip, pulling back slowly and rubbing Harold's chest. "What's up?" he asked, the sleepiness in his voice gone now."
"I want to do something for you. But I wonder what kind of person it will make me look like. I don't want to seem like a slut..."
"What do you mean?"
Rebeccah reached down, her hand sliding under his boxers, and gripped Harold's member. It was already up and excited from their heavy make-out session. "I wouldn't think you're a slut, Beccah, but are you sure you want to do that? I mean... well, we're only a few hours into being in that whole boyfriend, girlfriend thing. You might even change your mind in the morning."
Beccah giggled. "I don't think changing my mind is a problem, Harold. I really like you. And I've been thinking about our situation. I mean hell, we're sophomores in high school. The fact we even have this chance, in this hotel room, with no supervision for the time being, it's an opportunity we shouldn't waste."
"Well... if you're sure. I don't want to seem like I'm pushing you into anything."
"No, Harold. I know what I want. I am taking it."
"By all means," Harold replied, leaning in and kissing Beccah once more. Their clothes gradually disappeared from their bodies, leaving the pair completely naked together. For the moment, they were more distracted exploring each other's bodies as a whole than going directly to each other's happy spots. This was the first time either of them had been naked with another furre or been with a naked furre. Harold explored over Beccah's shoulders, chest, breasts, belly, kissing her all over. Beccah did the same to him, caressing his chest, nuzzling against his surprisingly toned belly.
Finally, it got to where Beccah was facing her foe. Harold's uncut length was standing rigid, already overexcited from their mutual explorations, and he was leaking everywhere. Of all the guys Beccah imagined herself being with, she never imagined once it'd be like this. Just the fact that Harold was uncut--an alien concept to the Jewish lapine--was a transgression from her fantasies that stood out with particular clarity. She leaned in, remembering the advice of her older cousin once about how sensitive the uncut ones were, and very gently brought her tongue along his entire length. She finished by running her tongue over the tip and inside the fold of skin, amazed at the taste of him. She had never expected anything quite like it.
Harold, in the meantime, was shuddering and reacting like any sophomore would, simply praying he didn't blow his load too quickly like the virgin amateur he was. But, as most things stay constant in this universe, and Harold being in all senses of the words "virgin amateur," he only withstood the slow ministrations of his new-found girlfriend until he felt her mouth wrapping itself around most of his length.
"Nnnn... oh god, Beccah, I'm gonna..." he managed before he felt himself unloading into her maw. It was bone-crushing by comparison to his self-wrought orgasms. He looked down at her and watched as she nearly choked for a moment, but managed to get it all down. Pulling away, Beccah giggled slightly.
"Well that was a lot more than I imagined," she said, snuggling up against Harold.
"Heh, sorry about that."
"It's ok. We're both new to this. I totally understand."
"So... I guess that makes it my turn," he said with a bashful little smile. He then pushed Beccah onto her back and began kissing his way down her body, getting closer and closer to her crotch. He looked up at her tentatively, her eyes met his, and the two of them smiled at each other before he let his tongue slide out and very lightly run its way along her slit.
The reaction was more than encouraging. Beccah shuddered hard, her toes curling. All she'd ever done to herself was rub at that little nub until she creamed. This, however, was incredible. Her maw hung open and her eyes rolled in the back of her head as Harold continued his explorations with his tongue. Gradually, he built up speed and pressure with his tongue, switching back and forth between licking along her labia and swirling around her clitoris. He even began to take plunges with it inside of her, managing to get so far as her maidenhead. Harold had to admit, with how beautiful he thought Beccah was, he had imaged her losing her virginity long before he ever got to do this.
Rebeccah didn't last long, though it did take more time than Harold required. When her orgasm did come, she took his head with both hands and her hips shook forward and back, rubbing her pussy against his maw. She thought it was over when the orgasm finally receded, but the sudden darting of Harold's tongue in and out of her pussy drove her over the edge once more. Coming down from that one, breathing hard, Beccah stroked her hand through Harold's hair. "That was amazing..." she whispered, noticing his length once again rigid between his legs, dripping on the bed sheets. "Come here," she said, holding her arms open to him.
Harold complied, laying on top of her. "You're sure about this?" he asked, realizing his cock was now no more than a couple inches from Rebeccah's soaking lips.
Rebeccah nodded slowly, smiling up at Harold. "I'm sure..." She pulled Harold into a deep kiss, wrapped her legs around him, and pulled Harold inside of her.
The pain was sharp but brief. Rebeccah was so absorbed into the moment, her hymen being torn apart was barely a blip on her radar. She and Harold made love for several long minutes before she pushed him back so that he would turn over. She got on top and began plunging him in and out of her, going much slower than the almost frantic pace with which Harold was moving. Harold only seemed to have more trouble controlling himself with this new rhythm. The slow, sensual feeling of her rising up and down on his length was making Harold crazy.
This time, the pair lasted much longer. But it wasn't going to last forever, and Harold soon found himself fighting the urge to finish inside of Beccah. "Baby, I'm going to cum soon," he whispered, his cock throbbing, hardening even more. Beccah was already in the throes of her orgasm as he said this. She huffed and panted, laying down on his chest, rubbing it slowly as she kept riding his member.
"That's ok."
"What?" Harold said, looking slightly bewildered.
"You can finish, Harold. I want you to. And I want it to happen with you inside of me."
Harold wanted to argue, should have argued, but didn't. He was so close, and the thought of filling Beccah was so hot. He wrapped his arms around her, she pressed her legs into his sides, and soon Beccah was feeling the seed of her new boyfriend filling her. Even as it happened, there was a little black voice in the back of her head saying she was enjoying this part a little too much for it to be safe. She ignored it for the time being.
Collapsed against each other, the pair soon found themselves drifting off in each other's arms. Harold and Beccah dreamed of what had just happened, and slept interlocked throughout the rest of the night.