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Forbidden Fruit	By : NormanCharles Category: G through L > His Dark Materials - trilogy Views: 14766 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the His Dark Materials series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Forbidden Fruit
- 1
Forbidden Fruit

By Amber Norwood

I have recently discovered Philip Pullman's "His Dark Materials." I am completely blown away by the story. His commentary, his use of the language, the way he draws the reader into his worlds. I read the three volume set in one sitting. If you haven't read it yet, do yourself a favor, go buy it. You'll want to read it again and again. Trust me on this.

His heroine, Lyra, is the new Eve, and she must eat from the tree of the forbidden fruit. Mr. Pullman couldn't write this scene so I took the liberty.

Standard disclaimer, I make no money from this, but if I did I'd send it to Philip in deepest gratitude for a story well told.

The Forbidden Fruit

Like two moths clumsily bumping together, with no more weight than that, their lips touched. Then before they knew hot it happened they were clinging together, blindly pressing their faces toward each other.

"Like Mary said," he whispered, "you know straight away when you like someone - when you were asleep, on the mountain, before she took you away, I told Pan--"

"I heard," she whispered, "I was awake and I wanted to tell you the same and now I know what I must have felt all the time: I love you, Will, I love you --"

The word love set his nerves ablaze. All his body thrilled with it, and he answered her in the same words, kissing her hot face over and over again, drinking in with adoration the scent of her body and her warm, honey-fragrant hair and her sweet, moist mouth that tasted of the little red fruit.

Around them was nothing but silence, as if all the world were holding its breath. ~ Phillip Pullman, "The Amber Spyglass."

Only half-knowing why, Will gently pulled Lyra to the ground; she, in turn looked lovingly, trustingly into his eyes, her own brimming with happiness.

She pulled him into a full-body embrace, rolling him onto her so that she could touch him with her whole being, feel the reassuring weight of him. She kissed him hungrily and pushed her body against his as if demanding - something. She had only a basic idea of what she wanted but she knew she wanted it desperately.

Will moaned as her gyrations pushed against his own growing need, forcing him to respond in kind, pushing himself against her in like manner. He was pleasantly surprised when Lyra grasped his bum cheeks, forcing their hot loins even more satisfyingly together.

In Will's world images of sex permeate the culture. Advertisements, television, and cinema all scream the same message; sex, sex, and more sex. A few furtive hours in front of a computer screen provided him with the mechanics involved from every conceivable angle.

Lyra had been an excellent spy in her own Oxford. She’d witnessed several liaisons between adolescents - and some adults of her world - she knew what it meant to be alone with a boy, what would be expected of her.

She was equally thrilled and panicked at the wonderful and terrifying inevitability.

Will was afraid that he was too heavy on Lyra's slight frame and, with a lingering kiss, rolled onto his left side. He slid his arm under her neck to form a pillow as she lay flat on her back, panting in anticipation.

He held her soft cheek, ever so tenderly, in his right hand as they continued to kiss with loving urgency. Her left hand mirrored the actions of his right so that as he moved his hand to her neck, then her shoulder, hers followed suit.

Lyra took the initiative and rubbed and kneaded his chest, first one side then the other, caressing his erect nipples with the palm of her hand. Will knew that he was expected to follow her example and he did so, his heart about to burst with joy and anticipation. Her breasts were fleshy cones, soft and warm and firm and wonderful - a perfect handful, her nipples hard little beads beneath the light fabric of her blouse.

She lifted her head to place another urgent, honeyed kiss on his mouth and was thrilled when the tip of his hot tongue traced across her teeth. She clutched his chest harder to let him know it was alright to respond in like manner. He was firm without being forceful, although, truth be told, Lyra would have welcomed a bit of roughness.

She unfastened the top button of his shirt and waited patiently for him to mirror her action before unbuttoning another, then a third, fourth and last. She had to pull the shirttail from his canvas trousers to undo the last one but then his bare chest was displayed to her.

Will slipped his hand up under the soft, thin powder-blue camisole beneath her blouse - adolescent girls in Lyra’s Britain didn't wear brassieres. She moaned blissfully stroking his bare chest in response.

His hand traced downward finding the tie of her wrap-around skirt. One lucky pull and the knot came undone. Will was able to unwrap her skirt exposing her undergarment.

One of the few lessons Lyra had learned from Mrs. Coulter was to always keep two sets of under-things on hand. The lady, her mother, had purchased several sets of matching camisoles and pants for her. They were rolled carefully and stowed in her small rucksack with her other essentials, a toothbrush and toothpowder, fragrant powdered talc, and soap. This morning when Lyra dressed she'd powdered under her arms and between her legs, then put on the matching blue set, perhaps in anticipation of what she’d hoped would happen.

Will had seen women in their underclothes before, knickers and bras had always reminded him of swim wear, indeed, he felt that underwear was more modest than the swimmers he'd seen the few times he and his mother had gone to the seashore. Lyra's under garments were more like a sleeveless shirt and shorts outfit. Nevertheless he found himself aroused at the sight of her demure, blushing femininity.

The camisole and pants set was thin, soft brushed cotton. Thin to near translucence it was powder blue and molded her young body perfectly; Will could see the outline of her pudenda through the diaphanous material. Lyra shivered in pleasure as he gently traced the outline of her engorged nether lips and felt something akin to anbaric shock when he traced the juncture of her legs and dragged his middle finger through her vertical cleft.

She worked the button on his heavy canvas trousers and was taken aback by the zipper. There were no interlocking fasteners on her world. She lifted her head to see the engineering marvel. She looked at the zipper, then at Will questioningly.

Will had come to understand all her expressions and interpreted, correctly, that she would need a little guidance here. He reached down, grasped the tab in his thumb and forefinger and pulled down. Then he re-zipped his jeans and guided her hand to the metal tab.

Lyra was fascinated. She moved the clever fastener up and down several times noticing, as she did, that it became increasingly hard to close the zipper as something was taking up more and more space in the front of his trousers. Finally she pulled the zipper down and left it there, she then pushed on the sides of the coarse trousers to help Will shimmy out of them.

She was as fascinated by his briefs as he had been by her pants. She had caught glimpses of boys and men in their underpants, they tended to be long, usually made of thin wool or linen or cotton. Will's were indecently short exposing the entire length of his legs. The front of these underpants had an odd vertical slit into which she slipped her tiny hand.

Her small cool fingers grasping his erect member made Will gasp in pleasure. Her initiative made him bold enough to slip his hand into Lyra's pants to cup her sparsely furred mound. His middle finger rested on her cleft, which was practically dripping with wet heat. He could feel the hard nub at the top of her sex with the palm of his hand and, as he began to rub that slight protrusion, his middle finger slipped into her warm, moist cavity.

Lyra had been the quintessential tomboy. As a little girl she had run and jumped and climbed trees, occasionally falling and catching a limb at the juncture of her legs. The first time she'd fallen hard enough to feel something tear at her "private place" she'd gone back to her room in tears. After that, there had been a few times when she'd fallen or simply sat down unexpectedly hard on the peak of the roof of Jordan College, or that same tree limb, and she'd not felt the same tearing pain. For this reason Lyra, although still a technical virgin, had no hymen to tear.

This would prove to be a blessing in short order.

Will noticed Lyra's shorts had no elastic. Rather her lingerie pants were held in place by a broad, flat silken ribbon tied by the same type of slip knot that had secured her wrap-around skirt. Will pulled the end of the knot and the belt fell loose. He tugged down on one side as Lyra pushed the other. Together they teased the blue shorts down her legs and off her feet.

She helped Will remove his briefs in like manner.

When they came together again they were both naked from the waist down and each could feel the heat radiating off the other's sex.

Lyra pulled Will back on top of her; spreading her legs as she did so. The tip of his gland fell into place at the entrance of her sex.

"Please come slowly, love," She pleaded.

He nodded and, as he leaned forward to kiss her, felt his bulbous turtle head slip easily past the wet lips of her eager heat.

Lyra was startled, but not hurt. She'd heard one of the servant girls tell the cooks daughter back at Jordan that when her beau had "put it to her" that it had hurt terribly! So much so that she'd cried for hours from the tearing pain. Lyra felt nothing of the sort, indeed, if she felt anything it was completion.

"Oh Lyra!" Will cried, "I love you so much, I can't tell you how much!"

"Oh Will, keep filling me, fill me up, fill me full!"

And he did, in every way. He went carefully, gently into her until their pubic bones came as close as humanly possible. Lyra felt stretched, she knew she'd probably be sore afterward but right now she was a completed person, living to be loved by Will and none other.

As this was Will's first sexual encounter he couldn't hold back his release. As he bottomed out inside Lyra he erupted, filling her insides with his warm spunk. He groaned as he spurt, prematurely, inside her. She felt the heat from his cum and shuddered a little at the thought of him spending in her womb.

A more experienced boy would have rolled over, pulling his “John-Thomas” out of and away from her. Will, however, was reluctant to move. He wanted to stay in the delicious warmth of his love - so he did.

Indeed, rather than draw himself out of her connubial heat, he ground his sex against hers, reveling in her groans of ecstasy.

They kissed deeply, this time it was Lyra who touched his lips and teeth with her tongue. Will responded in kind and each wondered, at that moment, if anyone before them had discovered the joys of tongue wrestling.

After a few minutes of deep kissing both Will and Lyra noticed that he was becoming hard again. Her wet heat, aided by his earlier ejaculate made the birth channel a warm, slick, welcoming sleeve that was primed for their mutual pleasure.

He began to slide back and forth, in and out increasing his tempo at her insistence until they were slap, slap, slapping with absolute abandon.

Will straightened his arms and looked down at their joined sex, marveling at every aspect of it. The sight of his fleshy pole as it completely disappeared then re-emerged slick and red from her only to plunge again and again and again. Lyra looked with equal fascination as she saw and felt and smelled the act of copulation, anything but dispassionately. Indeed, it was as though the word passion had been invented for this very moment. She felt a tingle, growing to a sensation not unlike an anbaric shock that spread from their joined sex to every fiber of her being, she nearly fainted from the complete and utter joy of it and she shrieked his name, "Oh Will! Oh God Will!"

He stopped, terrified that he'd hurt her.

"No, Will, please don't stop, you're wonderful Will, wonderful!"

He grinned, then began slowly stroking again, only increasing when she told him to.

"Faster Will, Faster!"

"Harder Will, Harder!"

"Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh GA-AAHHHD!"

He was able to last for quite a few minutes, before spurting again inside her deliciously tight channel, by which time they were both covered in sweat. The fluids of their labors saturated their joined sex and soaked the skirt on which they lay.

When they finally parted it was reluctantly. Lyra didn't bother to re-dress. Instead she removed her camisole top and walked naked into the little pool to bathe and wash her skirt. Will removed his shirt and joined her in the icy spring-fed pool. They embraced again and kissed tenderly. Into that kiss they each poured their complete and utter love for the other.

Lyra stepped out of the pool to rinse, wring out, then hang her skirt on a low tree limb.

"I don't think Mary will appreciate it if we walk back to the village dressed, or rather, not dressed like this." She said.

"How long till the skirt is dry enough?" he asked from within the pool.

"Maybe an hour."

"What would you like to do for an hour?"

Lyra smiled as she waded back into the pool to rejoin Will. She sat on a flat rock that formed a shelf just above the water line, spread her knees wide, then leaned back on her elbows.

She was a nymph, the goddess of adolescent sex.

Will became hard at the sight, in spite of the icy spring water.

With a saucy grin she asked, "What do you think?"
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Forbidden Fruit