“Shhh… let me prepare it properly,” I whisper.
I push a little further into her hole, but it’s still not relaxed enough. I massage it carefully, and she moans, opening her legs wider. It takes all my willpower not to slam myself inside her when she’s offering herself so willingly, but I know I won’t be able to stand seeing her in pain.
She’s releasing hot juices, the more I rub her entrance, the wetter she becomes. I push with slightly more force, and my tip goes inside her. I pull out and push back in, over and over. I look down to see trails of her clear juices running down her ass onto the bed. It looks so erotic that my head starts feeling like it’s in a pressure chamber.
I lift my gaze to her face, so flushed, so beautiful. Divine. Her eyes are filled with the same hunger for me I’ve seen mirrored in my own.
I push myself deeper, my head sinking into her warmth. Her eyes go wide. I kiss her jaw. “How’s it feeling?”
“Perfect,” she breathes.
I slide further inside her, and she gasps.
“This is enough for today,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
She holds my waist with her legs. “No… finish it.”
I’m torn between pushing fully into her, connecting with her in the most precise, intimate way, and pulling out to save her from the pain.
“It will be painful,” I warn.
“I don’t care.”
“I do. I only feel pain through you, and it’s unbearable.”
She purses her lips. “For God’s sake, Zoan, don’t argue with me with your dick half inside me.”
I laugh, the sound unfamiliar even to my own ears. She smiles, watching me. “You look so handsome when you laugh,” she chuckles. “I can’t believe we are having such conversations right now.”
I kiss her mouth.
I grab her waist and push myself all the way inside, tearing through her barrier. She cries, trembling in my arms. I hold her tight. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
I pull out of her, she winces as my length slides free. I lay down beside her, pulling her into my arms and rubbing her back.
She lifts her head to look at me with glossy eyes, her face streaked with tears. I wipe her face. “Is it still hurting?”
She shakes her head. “But it feels stretched.”
She rubs her eyes. “Why did you take it out? I’ve read in books that it starts feeling good after some time.”
“Not everything written in books is true. There would have been more pain if I had rubbed the injured parts.”
“But they say it’s pleasure in pain,” she murmurs.
“You are not that type of person. For you, pain is only pain.” She has very low pain tolerance, and it creates negative affectivity for her, she doesn’t feel good about anything and even struggles to find comfort when she’s in pain.
She draws circles on my chest. “Will it be like this every time?”
I kiss the top of her head. “No.”
We stay like that for a long, comforting time, then she whispers my name. “Zoan.”
I run my fingers through her silky strands. “Hmm?”
“Why did you say you only feel pain through me?”
“I don’t feel pain when I get injured. But when I see you in pain, I feel it in my body.”
