“May I come?”
“Yes,chica.”
This is a slow building orgasm. I can feel it creeping up on me. It doesn’t hit me like a raging storm like the ones from last night. This is a gradual ache that grows into a burn, and then it becomes pleasure radiating through me.
Sex is like an existential experience with this man. It makes me question everything I’ve known in the past, everything I’ve thought about my own desirability and how I’ve reacted to other men. I’ve had a healthy sex drive for more than a decade but being with Jorge is making me wonder if I was really just hibernating. It’s almost like a sexual awakening is taking place. Perhaps that’s because I’m with somebody I’m truly sexually compatible with. I pray we turn out to be this compatible beyond sex.
He moves up to my chest, straddling me and pushing my tits together. His cock rests in the valley. With each forward glide, I lick his tip. I catch my breath when he retreats. I open my mouth, my invitation clear.
“If I let you suck me off right now, I won’t last.”
“That’s fine. We can do this again and again. I want to make you come just like you did for me. I want it to be as good for you as you make it for me.”
“Much of my satisfaction comes from yours. I get a rush out of watching your orgasms, knowing they belong to me.”
“They do. Gladly. I feel the same way, Jorge. Please don’t deprive me of that right now.”
“I want to fill your pussy and your ass, little one.”
“I want that too, Daddy. I’m so wet for you that you could use me as lube.”
He moves back until he’s between my legs, then thrusts into me. I’m like a fucking slip and slide right now. He moves back and forth a few times before pulling out. I wait for him to flip me over, but instead, he lifts my legs, pressing them toward me. He’s so careful as he eases into me.
I know he’s studying my reactions to every moment he presses his thick cock into my tight asshole. I know he had women he was with, and I know he’s into at least some BDSM. It’s probably his experience as a Dom that makes him so aware. He gives me a moment to adjust once he’s inside of me. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve done this. It’s not like past partners haven’t been careful with me, but this is just different.
He just studies me like a hawk. I know he’s attentive to every breath I take. It makes me feel so incredibly special and cared for that my heart aches a little. To say he’s a generous lover is an understatement. When he begins moving, I moan.
“Safe word if you need to,chiquita. Never take more than you can, just for my sake. I wouldn’t forgive myself if I harmed you, and it will make it hard to trust you if we ever want to do more than vanilla.”
“I know. Jorge, thank you.”
His thumb works my clit, and I realize he’s the first guy I’ve been with who’s just known what rhythm I need. I can’t help but wonder if that’s a testimony more to his experience with women than intuitively knowing my body. But whatever the reason, I’ll take it. It’s not mine to reason why. This is one of those times where I’m happy to just go with the flow. As I get closer, his thrusts speed up, and I know he’s almost there too.
“I don’t know that I can hold on much longer.”
“Neither can I. Come for me, baby girl.”
I gladly follow his command and tip over the edge into bliss. I feel him come before he goes still. Then he’s easing out of me with just as much care as when we started. I squeeze my asscheeks, but I know a little dribbles out of me. He watches as though he’s fascinated by what he sees. Maybe he is. He’s done the things he swore he would do. He’s come down my throat, across my chest, in my pussy, and in my ass. He helps me off the bed.
With a nod, I hurry out of the room and into the bathroom for a moment of privacy. We’ll need maid service to come. It was hardly ideal, him giving up his bed to my mom that first night. But at the time, we were all exhausted. We had housekeeping come in the next day, but none of us loved the intrusion. My guess is Jorge wouldn’t have let them in at all during his stay if he didn’t need them to. I’m positive he values his privacy above most things. I do too.
When I head back into the bedroom, I find him on the phone, and this conversation seems to be going better than mine did.
“Yeah, come straight here. Liesel and I will be waiting for you. I don’t have any news… All right, I’ll see you in thirty.”
I’m about to meet members of his family under less than auspicious circumstances. It would be intimidating regardless, but this is almost overwhelming. While I was in the bathroom, he wheeled my suitcase in. I’d forgotten all about it last night since we didn’t exactly prepare for bed the way you normally would.
“Joaquin and Alejandro are here. They just landed.”
“What’re they like?”
“Joaquin looks just like me except bossy.”
That makes my eyebrows shoot straight up since I could easily describe him that way too.
“Alejandro is the pretty one in the family.”
That makes my brow furrow. How could anyone possibly be more attractive than Jorge? I tried checking out his social media after we first met. It was fairly limited, mostly pictures of him working out, but not your typical flex photos. There were alsopictures of him out hiking and playing tennis. Several were of him at polo matches, but I never got the sense he played. All of them are carefully curated not to have anybody recognizable in the background. It’s as though his social media exists because that’s the expectation for somebody his age, not because he enjoys it or feels compelled to overshare with the world.
