Wordlessly, I take his hand and lead him to my room.
I’ve had my four poster bed for years because I love the carvings of fleur de lys surrounded by delicate vines. I had it when I lived in America, and I’ve painstakingly shipped it everywhere I’ve lived ever since, no matter the expense. I’m not sure why I’m so attached to it, but I find myself foolishly glad to have this to share with him, too - to also associate this bed with him. His eyes soften, and he runs a finger over the wood.Symbol of New Orleans, he tells me.
“So it is.”Small world.
The red and white cotton bed sheets are brand new. My window is open to let a fresh breeze in, and I wonder if I should put some music on. But then, what if I don’t pick a band he likes, or he finds it distracting… Inwardly slapping myself for being such a flibbertigibbet, I try to remember the carefree, pragmatic woman I used to be when faced with a new lover. But she’s not here. And I’m all that’s left in her absence. “Whatever you say, goes,” I assure him, because I want that to be very clear.
One corner of his mouth pulls upwards.I was going to say the same thing to you. I giggle, and he seems to like it, because he bites his lip before taking me into his arms again. H’s hesitating, so I’m guessing he’s waiting for me to kick things off.
Well, OK, then.
I lift his henley tentatively, establishing permission, and he nods, lifting his arms so it’s easier for me to take it off him.He has a black tank top on underneath, showcasing his broad shoulders and wiry strength, to say nothing of the myriad tattoos decorating his skin. Pictures and words, and on his forearm a group of discordant letters: YKWYDMFNF. I’ll ask him what it means later. The tattoos he showed me when we first met greet me like old friends, and the ones I hoped I’d see one day calling for my attention.What else is there… I start to lift his top, but he catches my wrist and shakes his head.
I’d rather keep that on, if that’s OK?A shadow of unease passes across his face, and I must chase it away.
“Not a problem,” I assure him, brushing off any disappointment I feel.
I’m sorry. It’s just… You’ll see my scars, and then I’ll get self-conscious, and then I’ll start thinking about how I got them, and… I’m fascinated by how he trails off with his hands as clearly as if he was speaking aloud from his throat.I don’t want anything to ruin this, least of all that.
Seeing him start to fret, I quickly kiss him, pulling on his mouth with mine until he’s back in the moment. “It’s fine,” I promise, “genuinely.”
His eyes have stars in them. It hits me what a responsibility this is, to give him his first complete sexual experience. A kind of strengthening calm washes over me. He needs me to take the lead now. So I do.
I turn around and lift my hair. “Unzip me, please.”
I feel his hands on my waist, and he runs kisses along the back of my neck, bared to him by my own hands, in a way that makes me tremble. A little moan escapes from my lips, and his breath comes a little faster at the sound.
I turn my head, and we share one more kiss before he beams down at me, his smile a wonderful thing, as he slides my zip down. Pulling my sleeves down, I let my dress pool at my legsand turn around, leaving me in sheer pink lace underwear. His breath catches, and he swallows hard as he takes me in.
So beautiful,he says, his hands trembling as he signs.
I run my fingers down his wife beater covered abs until I reach the waistband of his jeans and his leather belt. “OK with you if I take your trousers off?” I ask against his lips, and he grins and nods.Very, he mouths.
I get to work, drawing the moment out, and gently bite his lower lip, until his jeans are loose enough to drop.
Holy fuck.
“WHOAH,” I burst out, staring at the undeniably enormous bulge pressing at the front of his black boxer briefs.
What’s wrong?He asks, looking alarmed.
Oops. “Nothing at all,” I assure him, my smile spreading across my face, “it’s just…wow, you have quite a lot to offer me there.” The outline of his shaft shows he has to be eight or nine inches at least, and he’s thick with it.
Right,he says, like it’s something awkward he’d forgotten about.Too big?He still looks worried.Because if it’s going to hurt you, we don’t have to -
I shake my head, feeling like jumping up and down and clapping my hands in delight. While I don’t hold with the ridiculous size-is-everything dogma of male-centric society, the feel of being stretched by a large phallus always contributes to the strength and intensity of my orgasm. It’s a kink I have. “No, absolutely perfect.” Whatever he sees in my happy face makes him smile in response, and I can’t resist running a lazy hand up his length.
His whole cock throbs, and he gasps, his ab muscles leaping. His eyes close slowly, and he bites his lip. How did I find this man? How did I get this fortunate? I lick the seam of his lips with the tip of my tongue, opening him to my kiss, my tongue stroking his, his stroking mine.
“Lie down on the bed,” I murmur, and he does, looking at me with amazement, letting me know I’m not alone in the way I feel right now.
Dean is irresistible, lying there, and I don’t even try to fight it. I crawl up the bed to him like a cat, and the mix of nerves and heated desire on his face is revving my engine.
Shifting him more to the middle of the bed so I can straddle him, I run kisses along his jaw. He sighs, and I decide to go bolder, and run them down his chest, softly biting his nipples until he gasps, and then down his stomach to his happy trail, which I lick. “Enjoy,” I murmur, and gently ease his boxers down.
Oh myword…
His erection is amazing. Long, so thick that my fingers can’t quite meet when I grasp him, and it’s pulsing like a heartbeat as I watch. “Your dick,” I say to him, staring at it, “is superlative.”
