I reach for the waistband of my sleep pants and ease them off, being careful not to snag them on my hard-on. When my cock springs free, standing at attention between us, Poppy’s eyes widen. And I can’t help myself—I laugh.
Her gaze snaps to mine, and she furrows her brow in that way I’ve come to adore.
“Sorry,” I say. “But that face was gold.”
Her expression softens, and her focus drifts to my hand as I start to lazily stroke myself. She’s got me so worked up, my tip is already beading with precum.
“Are you . . . average?” she asks.
I laugh again. I’m not sure I’ve ever laughed during foreplay before. But I decide I like it.
“For an orc? Can’t say I’ve compared. But I’m bigger than most human men.”
Poppy narrows her eyes a bit, still watching me. Suddenly, I feel like I’m a project she’s puzzling over, like she might write a paper about this later.
“Come here,” I say, voice softer now. “I’ll show you how.”
She gets to her knees and scoots closer to me. Slowly, I take her hand and guide it to my shaft. Her fingers are warm and soft when they wrap around me, though they’re too small to make it all the way around my girth.
“I like a firm grip,” I explain, then put my hand over the top of hers, showing her how hard I like to be squeezed. She nods, staring at our hands as I start to guide her palm along my length. “Then twist a bit, near the base, before working back up.” I demonstrate, moving her hand with mine. When we make it back to the tip of my cock, I guide her palm over my head, which is leaking precum again. The touch makes a small tremor go through my body, and I breathe out with a quiet groan.
“Okay,” Poppy whispers. “I think I’ve got it.”
I take my hand off of hers, letting myself relax back into the pillow as she starts to stroke me, tentatively at first.
“Like this?” she asks after a minute.
“Mm-hmm,” I mumble. “Just like that.”
She scoots a bit closer to me, still on her knees, then surprises me when she wraps her other hand around me, using both now to stroke my entire length.
“How about this?” She gently twists her hands inopposite directions, and the groan it elicits from me is answer enough.
I get harder beneath her touch, and this seems to boost her confidence, because she starts stroking me a bit faster, coaxing an orgasm to start building in my low stomach. If I wanted, I could hold out a lot longer than this. But it’s Poppy’s first time, and I don’t want her to feel discouraged if it takes too long.
Besides, what she’s doing feels amazing, even if she is a beginner.
I relax further and close my eyes. Poppy’s scent, mixed with the lavender oil that still clings to her skin after the bath, floats around me, soft and teasing.
I can’t believe she let me finger her.
Just thinking about how wet she was when I slipped my finger inside her has my cock twitching in her hands. Then that sound she made when she came, my name on her tongue.
“Faster,” I whisper.
She moves her hands faster, keeping a perfect rhythm. And when she guides one of her palms over my head, slicking my precum over my heated tip, I reach my peak.
With a grunt, I grip the bedsheet and cum. Poppy keeps stroking me, her hands gliding along my shaft with every pulse of my balls and spurt of cum I release. And when I’ve finished and finally open my eyes, I find her smiling—no,grinning—down at me.
“Did I do it?” she asks, a hint of playfulness painting her tone.
This time when I laugh, it’s bogged down with the exhaustion I feel and the relief at having drained myself.
“You did it,” I say. Then I glance down at myself and the sticky mess I—we—are. Her hands are slick as she unwraps her fingers from around my shaft. I sit up just enough to wrap my hand around her head and pull her in for one deep, lingering kiss. Then I say, “I’ll clean us up.”
After I wipe us both clean with a damp rag, I lie back down on the bed and pull Poppy close, so we’re facing each other in the darkness. My arm is draped around her waist, holding her close, and her head is tucked under my chin. Our breathing has finally slowed, and the frantic energy from before has softened into something warm and comforting.
“So, how was it?” I ask. “As scary as you thought?”
