It's My First Time Being Loved Mga Nobela at Kwento

I wanted to show her how much she meant to me, to make her feel cherished and loved. When she looked at me with tears in her eyes and whispered that she was mine, I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. I removed my remaining clothes and positioned myself at her entrance. The weight of what we were about to do sank in. It was her first time. It was us. “This is your first time,” I whispered. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.” “I trust you,” she breathed, clutching me tightly. And so, slowly, I pushed inside. The intense heat, the constriction, the overpowering feeling of being enveloped by her nearly overwhelmed me.

This day was definitely a curse dressed up as a blessing. This was the beginning of what I thought was the rest of my life. The first day he showed me what his love was, this was the day he told me he loved me and made love to me for the first time. He may have not been my first but I thought he would be my last, I thought I would be his last because that's what he made me believe.

For a few seconds I hesitated, but my tears were staining the paper. For the last time, I wanted to remember his face and how safe I felt being in his arms. If this means I never get to see him again, I hope he knows somehow that I never got to tell him something. I never got to tell him that he's the first man who ever made me feel safe since my Father died. He's unarguably my first love. The first man I ever truly loved. And I'll carry him in my heart for as long as I live.

"It's what I'm here for, sweetie. There's no need for thanks." "You don't understand," I whispered to her. I looked at her, my eyes shining in the moonlight. "You're the first person to care, Liz. Before you, no one had ever said a kind word to me. When you hugged me the first time was the first time I'd been hugged. I've never...known...what being loved feels like. The only love I've ever been shown is pain and fear. And what you did for me today...it's a big deal...to me. So...thank you."

My mind is filled with nothing but thoughts of him—and how I can make him happy. We made love all through the night, and it was the first time anything like that had ever happened to me. The experience was exhilarating and completely new, igniting a passion I hadn’t truly understood until now. As the first light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, I couldn’t help but smile, knowing deep in my heart that this was only the beginning of a beautiful new chapter in our lives.

A smile spread across my face, gentle and soft, yet full of hope. “I… I’m in love,” I whispered to myself, pressing my hand to my chest. “Maybe… maybe he loves me too… he just doesn’t know how to say it yet.” And for the first time in a long time, alone in the quiet of my room, I felt… safe. Loved. And alive.

“No one’s ever done something like this for me before.” Trevor’s brows knitted together. I could read the confusion and worry battling in his face. “Elaine…” I wiped at my cheeks, though the tears kept coming. “I’ve never had someone care for me like this,” I admitted. “I’ve always had to beg for love, to fight for even a scrap of affection. But with you…” I trailed off. The words were caught in my throat. “This… this is how it feels to be loved, isn’t it?”

Only sounds of deep misery and agony echoed inside this dim room. My very first time was not in a mutual case. I was forced to. I was fucked. Not loved. 🔸🔸🔸

I felt my cheek reddening, and I was sure it was redder than the blood running through my veins as he looked down on me as a giant looking at a little being. I also remember seeing his face for the first time. It was like a light brightening my dark world. And he surely did tonight, no longer making me feel unloved. I began to cry. "Why do you cry?" he asked as both of his hands went from around me, cupping my face. His thumbs gently wiped away my tears. "It is the first time someone had ever told me that they loved me," my eyes sadly lowered from his face. "I'm glad I'm the first," he said, and my eyes immediately went back to his face.

And for the first time… I didn’t care if the world burned. I finally understood what it meant to be loved… out loud. Him and I = one. That's the only right answer. I fucking don't care because, after all, I don't know math.