We pant and strain, as if trying to learn about each other’s bodies through taste alone. Every now and then, a guttural moan escapes from her throat. It’s sexy as hell, but nowhere near enough. My hands begin to roam up and down her back while she holds on tightly to me, pressing against my body as if trying to become one with it.
Finally, we break apart, breathing heavily and gasping for air.
“What now?” she whispers, looking up at me from beneath her long lashes.
“Anything the lady desires.”
She looks behind her at my stiff cock tenting the blanket.
An image of her gawking at it in the video flashes in my mind.
“It’s unaffected by my injuries and fully functional, as you can see,” I say smugly.
She turns back to me, her eyes crinkling up. “I was concerned about your legs.”
“Oh. Right.” Regaining my composure, I say, “Let me reformulate. We can do anything that falls within the bounds of my current physical condition.”
Smothering a laugh, she nods. “That sounds more reasonable.”
“You’d be surprised how much I can do within those bounds.”
“Like, knee push-ups?”
“Exactly!”
She chuckles. Then her expression becomes more serious, and she checks her watch. “Our time is limited by my parents’ return in a few hours… What doyoudesire, Darrel?”
“Everything you have to give,” I reply in all honesty. “The question is, are you ready?”
“You mean, to lose my virginity?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know. Maybe not today.” She gives me a saucy look. “But I want more kissing! And I want more than kissing. Much more!”
“Music to my ears.”
She raises an expectant eyebrow.
I let my gaze travel down to her breasts. “I’ve been dying to fill my palms with your pert little tits for weeks now.”
“Weeks?”
“Since your first visit.” I look deep into her eyes. “And now I’m going to do it.”
My hands move to cup her breasts through her cotton sweatshirt. They feel exactly like I thought they would, filling my palms just so—two firm, small, rounded handfuls.
I need more contact. The damned fabric is too thick!
“Do you mind removing your sweater?” I ask.
She hesitates. “It’s cold in here.”
Is she shy?“You can keep your bra on. And you can get under the covers with me.”
She turns away, and I watch the subtle rise and fall of her shoulders as she takes a deep breath. Then she crosses her arms, grabs the hem of the sweatshirt, and takes it off in one swift motion, revealing an ivory camisole underneath and the peachy skin of her back.
The look she sends me over her shoulder seems to inquire about the next step.
