I did and his hips fell through.
Okay, God, God.
Damn but he felt good there.
My eyes went to his face to see him tearing a condom packet with his even, white teeth (which was hot too!) and his eyes were on me. Then the packet disappeared and I felt his hand working between us as his eyes held mine captive and my breath escalated so I was near panting with anticipation.
This was happening. This was going to happen.
And I could not wait.
“You on the pill, sweetheart?” he asked quietly.
“No,” I answered impatiently, lifting my hips a smidgeon to make my point and his lips twitched.
“Doctor’s appointment, priority,” he ordered.
“’Kay,” I agreed.
Then I felt him and my lips parted. It was just the tip of him, the promise of him but already it was perfect.
His hands moved to my hips, gliding down my thighs, hooking behind my knees, he pulled my legs up and then swung them in so they circled him. One of his arms lifted, he planted his forearm in the bed by my shoulder, his fingers in my hair while the other hand stayed at my leg, gliding down, oh so slowly, down, down, as his beautiful, fathomless, soulful, burning, dark brown eyes held mine, his handsome face close and his cock slowly, oh so slowly, glided inside.
His fingers at my leg moved in and down and curled around the cheek of my behind just as he seated himself full inside me.
Mitch was inside me, connected to me, holding my eyes, his breath mingled with mine and I was wrapped around him in every way I could wrap myself around him.
I hadn’t had a lot of beauty in my life but I knew, in that moment, feeling him filling me, his long fingers in my hair, his eyes staring into mine, gentle, warm, beautiful, telling me without words he really liked where he was and that was with me, that even if I had a life filled with beauty, no moment would be more beautiful than that.
And that was why my arms pulled him even closer, my legs tightened around him and tears filled my eyes.
He saw them and when he did, he groaned, his head dipped, his nose slid along mine and his lips whispered against mine, “My Mara, so fuckin’ sweet.”
Then he started moving.
And that was even more beautiful.
He did it like he kissed me on the couch, gentle, sweet, unhurried, kissing me tender but deep sometimes, his mouth and tongue working my neck other times and I knew he paid attention, he listened, he felt and he went faster, harder but only when I was ready. I was holding him close, tight, my hand in his hair, his tongue in my mouth, his cock driving deep, when it started to come over me. Shock pierced my system as it occurred to me I was about to have an orgasm just with a man moving inside me.
Then it happened, my head shot back, my limbs convulsed and my lips whispered, “Mitch, baby,” and I had an orgasm just with a man moving inside me and that man being Mitch, it was the best, sweetest, longest orgasm in my life.
Oh God.
God.
Perfect.
My neck righted and I felt him still moving inside me, fast, hard, deep, God, gorgeous, as my eyes opened and I saw his on me. His face was dark, his eyes intense, his breath labored. His forearm moved up an inch so his fingers drove into my hair then fisted, pushing up, so my head went up and his mouth crushed down on mine just as his hand at my ass pulled up hard. He drove deeper, harder, faster and I whimpered into his mouth as his tongue worked mine and his cock worked me.
He stopped kissing me and growled against my lips, “If it’s too much, baby, you gotta –”
“Don’t stop,” I begged because my limbs were tensing, my sex was spasming. “Don’t stop, Mitch, baby, please.”
He didn’t stop, his mouth crushed down on mine again, his hand at my ass hauled me up further to take him even deeper. It was then that I had the second best, sweetest, far more intense (but not as long) orgasm in my life. It was beyond perfect because, as I cried out into Mitch’s mouth, he groaned into mine as he buried himself to the root and stayed planted.
It took some time to come down because I didn’t push it. I did it savoring his weight, his fingers in my hair, his lips moving tenderly on mine, his hand at my ass gliding up and becoming an arm wrapped possessively around the top of my hips.
His lips slid across my cheek and to my ear and his arm around my hips gave me a squeeze when he asked in a whisper, “How’s the real world feel this mornin’, baby?”
My arms and legs tensed, his head came up and I saw his unbelievably sexy, satisfied face and his eyes warmer and gentler and more beautiful than I’d ever seen them (and that was saying something).
Seeing that, I answered, I did it openly, honestly, exposing everything and I did it by grinning.
He grinned back.
He dipped his head, touched his mouth to mine in a light kiss then said against it, “Don’t move.”
After that, he carefully slid out, rolled off me and out of bed, flicking the covers over me and I blinked at the ceiling as I closed my legs. I turned to my side pulling my knees up, tucking my hands under my cheek on the pillow. I caught just a glimpse of his contoured back and his beautiful behind in his pajama bottoms before he disappeared in the bathroom.
Unlike what everyone thought of me in Iowa, I left that small town a virgin. It wasn’t until I was twenty and after three months of dating a guy in Denver that I gave it up.
This did not go well mostly because sex was messed up in my head due to my mother’s antics, her fuck buddies trying it on with me and the boys in high school being jerks. Unfortunately, my boyfriend at the time was also young. He was very good-looking (definite Ten material, looks-wise, I would find out after giving him my virginity that he was more like a One Point Five otherwise). He’d also invested three months in his score and to say he was disappointed and insensitive would have been an understatement. He was pissed, he said some not very nice things while still in my bed, he left and I never heard from him again.
Needless to say, after that, I wasn’t fired up to jump in the sack again and it wasn’t until Destry that I gave it another go.
Destry was, at first, very patient and this was one of the reasons I stayed with him even though, most other times, he was a jerk. He was older than my first boyfriend and seemed to enjoy coaxing a response from me. Considering my first experience was shit, it took him even longer to get me into his bed (four and a half months). Once there, he again was patient, seemingly understanding and seemingly enjoyed being my teacher which was another reason why I stayed with him. I was hesitant to the point of shy but that didn’t mean I didn’t learn from Destry or enjoy what we did. I did. I just didn’t learn fast enough.
Therefore, he lost patience with being my teacher when my responses didn’t satisfy him or I wasn’t up for trying new things that made me uncomfortable.
He broke up with me before he broke through.
After that, I never thought about it much. It wasn’t that sex freaked me out it was just that I didn’t have anyone in my life so I didn’t need to think about it.
It was now I knew why my responses to Destry weren’t satisfactory.
Because Destry was not only not a good teacher, he was shit in bed.
And I knew this because Mitch was not shit in bed. Mitch was gentle and intuitive. Mitch didn’t put effort into sex, he just naturally guided the flow and where he guided it was freaking sensational.