I should know he won’t let the day go without taking something from me.
Ben is in his sweats, without a T-shirt. His hair is damp as if he’s just showered and the light catches flecks of water that have fallen across his chest.
He heads straight for my bed, straight for me. Barefoot, he climbs on the mattress, his eyes fixed on me, then my breasts.
“If you don’t want this, tell me now.”
I push the sheet out of the way and get on my knees, turning to face him, parting my thighs so nothing is left hidden. My breasts are heavy, my cunt wet and swollen as it has been since dinner, and I can see the print of his erection through his sweatpants. He’s big and wide and more than I remember and I should be glad that it wasn’t him who took my virginity, but I’m not, because what’s a little pain? It only adds to the violence of pleasure.
“Are you going to tell me?”
He hasn’t touched me yet. I put my hands on his chest, slowly pushing my palms against the thick muscle, feeling his heat. Feeling his nearness.
I don’t say anything. Instead I push my mouth to his and my breasts to his chest, feeling every millimetre of my nakedness, the night air wrapping me in its silk. His hands graze my backside, cupping my cheeks, spreading them slightly and I have no idea what he’s going to do to my body tonight but I know I’m not going to say no. Not tonight. I’m not sure I ever could.
He tastes of mint and cigarettes. My skin is searched as if I’m hiding contraband by his hands. I’m being claimed. The kiss which, I owned, slips from my possession and becomes his.
Thighs part, his fingers roughly move over my breasts. He pinches my nipples, pushing me to the edge of pain and I ache for him to be inside of me.
Abruptly the kiss stops. His hands are removed. He creates distance.
“You haven’t said no.”
My own hands cup my breasts.Look at what you could be touching.
“I’m going to fuck you. Are you on the Pill?” His voice is low, as if the words he’s using are assassins that can’t be named.
“Yes.” I lick my lips. “But when do I get to fuck you?”
Eyes blaze. There’s a pause and then I’m on my back and his mouth is on my nipple, biting, sucking. My hips buck but he grabs both my hands over my head and stops me from touching him, demanding more.
I brace myself because this is going to be fast and brutal and hard.
He moves his mouth to the other breast, repeating what he’s just done, my hands still fixed. I want to touch him, but I want to be touched more and his mouth is doing that.
Teeth nip, his tongue licks and I spread my legs, bending my knees, hoping he takes the hint.
There will be no words. We don’t need them; wasted pieces of air that complicate matters and bringing an ending where none is needed. My fingers curl around his, my nails digging into his skin. Hard.
Ben’s head drops, golden hair falling between my legs and he gives me one long lick from slit to clit, applying pressure before he lifts his head.
We’ve done this before. He brought me to orgasm for the second time with his mouth and then we spent a day with me riding his face, desperate afterwards to feel a cock inside me.
He’d never done it. Never fucked me. Made love. Had sex.
For him it was a hard limit.
That limit has just been erased.
My right hand is released as he moves up my body and aligns his cock with my entrance, first sliding it up over my clit a couple of times. I shift my hand to his neck, gripping his throat lightly. No pressure.
There’s a flare in his face. The challenge.
Then he pushes into me without restraint or consideration for his girth or length or that fact I haven’t had sex for months.
I scream.
My orgasm makes him groan as he lands balls deep, filling me more than I’ve ever felt and I know I’m crying. With pain, but without it, there would be no feeling. Ben shifts himself upright, still inside me, not moving, and pushes my legs so my knees move up to my chest. He inches deeper and then moves out, beginning a pace that tells me exactly who is in charge right now.
