"As are you."
We share a look. I know how it probably seems. Me sneaking into his room in the middle of the night again. But I honestly came just to thank him for saving me today. I wasn't expecting any of this.
Hoping? Sure. But in ait'll never happenway.
"You gonna keep staring at me all night, or are you going to fuck me?" I say, needing to keep it light, scared of letting in any of the other emotions knocking on the door.
"Well, since you asked so nicely." He curls his fingers around his massive meat and they don't even cover a quarter of the thing. I am going to getstretched. "Let me get some lube. We're going to take things nice and slow," he tells me, getting off the bed.
I could protest.
Or insert some stupid joke.
But instead, I lie down on my back, hook my arms behind my knees, and wait as he grabs some lube from the top drawer of his dresser.
"Wow," he says when he spins around, eyebrows sky-high on his forehead. "Who knew you could be so obedient?"
"I can be bad," I say. "But I can also be very, very good."
His cock juts out what looks like a foot in front of him as he strides over to the bed. "Duly noted," he says, the mattress dipping as he sits down and opens the bottle.
Finding the perfect balance between going slow and not goingtooslow, he stretches my hole open, one finger after another. I slow my breathing right down, trying to relax into it. I needed this, not just physically to prepare myself for taking him, but mentally, too. We've covered a lot of ground tonight, not to mention me coming accidentally, and letting Scooter prep me is…well, perfect.
Just like he is.
I mean, I know he's not perfect. Everyone's got their faults. But he's funny and thoughtful and kind. Like I said earlier, I trust him and feel safe with him.
At the same time, I also feel like the world's biggest asshole for being brought in solely to steal his part on the show. Even with something like that, where Scooter would be fully justified at being pissed at me, he's not. He's taking everything in his stride.
Including my now nicely gaping ass.
"Think you're ready," he says, four fingers sunk inside me.
I exhale slowly and say, "I am," and right after, the worst unwanted thought slips into my head.
The last person I had sex with was Riff.
"But are you ready-ready?" Scooter asks, and it's almost as if he can read my mind. Or maybe I've tensed up more than I realized.
I turn to look up at him, and the moment my gaze lands on the golden warmth of his hazel eyes, the turmoil whirring in my chest settles.
"I am. Really."
He stares at me intensely, as if weighing up whether to believe me or not.
"Okay, then. But if that changes at any time, you tell me, and we stop. Got it?"
I nod. "Got it."
He greases up his massive hog, and just the sight of him doing that gets me rock-hard. He grins as he notices, dipping his head to kiss me as he brings his body into position but doesn't enter me just yet.
We make out for a few minutes at a nice, solid mid-pace, letting the anticipation mix with our arousal in a way that feels natural. Right. Like it's meant to be even though it's our first time and first times are meant to be awkward and clumsy and tentative. There's none of that here. It's like our bodies have known each other forever.
After a while, I feel the heat of his cock at my entrance. He stops kissing me to look at me.
I nod, smiling to reassure him. "I'm okay."
His features relax, only a little but enough to let me know that my words have registered. I'm blown away by how much care he's showing me. How much my safety and pleasure mean to him. I'm not just some hole he's about to fuck. He's making me feel seen as a person.
