Her nervousness is an expression she always struggles to hide. I’ve seen it so many times, but it has never been more appreciated than in this moment. I usually want to push it from her mind, protect her from it, but right now I want to see it. It means she’s taken over as powerfully as I am by our coupling, and it frightens her; it frightens me too.
Leaning her mouth to my groin, I hold my breath, waiting for her lips. At her first touch, I moan. Her lips are warm as they pass over the head of my penis. Her lips distend to take all of my breadth, and I’m mesmerized by her mouth taking in my body. She sinks as far as she can along my shaft before pulling her mouth back up slowly, passing over every inch of sensitive skin. When she reaches the head again, she doesn’t push back down. Instead she lets her lips pop over the tight skin of my cockhead. She pulls back from me as I watch in fascination. She’s taking her time, and her torture may just kill me.
Her eyes are focused on my penis, and she reaches her hand to me. I prop myself up on my elbows, not wanting to miss a moment of her touch. She trails her fingers over the rigid, throbbing veins. She traces the line of my foreskin, watching my cock dance and jump at her enticing touch. She brushes the pad of her thumb over my opening, trailing a line of my precum down the length of my shaft with her finger. Her lips are parted, and she is studying me so closely. When she reaches the base of my cock, her fingers continue to my scrotum. I’m tight in my arousal, and she trails her fingers over the sensitive skin, rounding my tight testicles with the palm of her hand, and when she’s finally done touching, she looks to my eyes once more before lowering her mouth to me again.
When her lips pass over the head of my penis once again, I shake, my muscles clench and I have to fight not to come. She’s tortured me for too long, and I’m pathetically at the end of my rope. I let her suck and fuck me with her mouth for as long as I can bear, before grabbing her underarms and pulling her to mount my body.
She watches me in confusion, wanting to understand why I stopped her so quickly, and I admit my weakness while stroking my finger across her lips. “I don’t want to come here.” And then reaching between our bodies and between her legs to her still clothed sex, I continue. “I want to come here, and right now, you’re driving me crazy.”
I move her from my body to her knees beside me, and once there I slide her yoga pants and underwear down her hips. She’s lightly haired, and as I lean my mouth to her sex, I take in her scent. I want to devour her body, but my cock has been patient enough. I pull her body to lie on her stomach as I finish pulling her pants and underwear from her body. Her bottom is round and her cheeks are perky and tight. I want to knead the globes harshly with my hands, but I’m done with anything but fucking her at this point. I’ll play with her body later.
I move my body to hug against her backside with my knees outside of hers and my cock resting between the cheeks of her bottom. I reach one hand under her body and around her waist, lifting her hips slightly off the bed, and as I lean to her ear, I whisper my instructions. “Now part your knees just a bit so they touch mine.” She complies, and I continue. “Push your bottom up.” She does as I ask, and as I let loose her waist to brace my weight, I move my other hand down her bottom to her only slightly exposed pussy. She’s slick and wet with need, and I will have no problem entering her this way.
I tear open the box of condoms left abandoned on her nightstand, and in record time I’ve rolled the condom on and taken my place once more against her body. My hand has returned to holding her around her waist, while my other guides my rigid length to her body. She is still and nervous, and when the head of my cock nudges at her entry, she tilts her bottom upward some more. I thrust a gentle and shallow penetration into her constricted passage, made all the more tight by her barely parted thighs, and finding my way in between the folds of her wetness I pound one swift, harsh thrust to my hilt within her. She lets out a loud and unrestrained moan as I sink to her depths, and I stay still within her, pulling her body back to mine by my arm around her waist.
I pull slowly from her body, before thrusting with one more harsh, pounding drive to her core, and she again lets loose a moan from deep within her gut. I pound over and over and over, nearly losing myself with each and every thrust. Her tightened closed thighs have her passage constricted and unimaginably tight, but I want to watch my cock taking over her body, so I pull from her completely, move my knees within hers, and push her knees out wide with my own. I can see every last inch of her most private entries, and I want to invade every last one of them, but I don’t.
I align my penis to her wet and needy pussy and watch as I enter her inch by inch, slowly distending her entry. I watch every thrust, every penetration, as it takes over her body, and with my arm once more around her waist I reach lower to her clitoris and stroke and brush my fingers over her tight, sensitized nub. Her stomach muscles quiver and contract in her need for release, and as I close in on my own release, hers tears through her and leaves her collapsed on the bed panting as I continue to push my cock in and out of her while my orgasm overcomes me and then fades.
I finally leave her body, collapsing beside her and stroking her back in slow circles. She looks to my eyes and watches me as my hands caress her pristine, smooth skin. I lean to her shoulder and kiss the soft, pale skin that covers her shoulder blade before returning to her side and pulling her body into my arms. She drifts off to sleep, but I stay awake, thinking endlessly of her.
I’m alive again. I carried a weight of guilt I more often than not refused to acknowledge with every woman I indulged in for one night before turning them loose. I wanted nothing more from them than their bodies, and I made that fact clear. While they accepted this for their own reasons, I used them to satisfy my hunger for sex, but in that dark corner of my mind I pretended didn’t exist, I felt guilt. I was using them and denying my emotional needs.
But the girl beside me is different. God only knows why, but she is so compellingly different. I feel guilt with her as well, but for a completely different reason. My guilt with her is for sharing her bed but not a bed that belongs to us both; it’s for being in her home rather than a home that is ours together; and it’s for taking her body but not fully giving her my heart. Her whole being begs for more than meaningless, cold sex, and while she doesn’t ask for more than what I’ve given her, I want, for the first time in so many years, to give her more.
Chapter 11
When I wake, I’m alone, but he’s tinkering with something in the kitchen. I move from the bed and grab my clothes, tossing them on quickly before padding barefoot down the hall. Entering the kitchen, I find him half in and half out of the sink cupboard—must have found my leak. Not going to say that’s not embarrassing. Jordan is lying on his back, and as I clear my throat he slides forward to peer at me while leaning back on his elbows. He’s smirking.
“You realize using a pan to catch a leaky pipe is only effective if you intend to change the pan occasionally?” He’s still smirking, and I give him my best snarled lip.