I slide down and turn on my side, propping my head on my elbow. My back is as close to the wall as possible. There needs to be some wiggle room between us when she stretches out next to me. I don’t want my raging erection to prod her.Not yet.
“Come here,” I say simply.
She pulls back the covers and settles in next to me. I yank the blanket up over us both like a cocoon and wrap an arm around her underneath. We lie still for a moment. I savor her delicious smell, the warmth and texture of her skin against mine, her mere presence. Over the past month, all I’ve done was fight for survival. I did fantasize about Stella plenty of times. But it was solely to give my mind a respite from its unwavering focus on my predicament. At least, that’s what I told myself.
And now she is lying next to me.
What was my predicament, again?An eagerness I had long forgotten existed in me sparks into life. I fondle her breasts, one at a time, teasing her nipples until they’re hard. Her breathing grows labored. I kiss her while I caress her like this, and she arches into my touch, clearly enjoying the pleasure I’m giving her. But I doubt she’s enjoying it more than I do.
Her hand trails up along my chest then comes to rest on the side of my face. My skin tingles where she’s touching me. I play with her now swollen nipples.
I need more.
Without asking permission, I slide lower and take an engorged nipple into my mouth, right through her camisole and her unpadded bra. Wetting the thin layers of fabric, I pull her nipple deep, lave it with my tongue, flick it, nip it gently and then suck it. Her hands clutch my head. There’s surprise, hunger, and rapture in her unaffected whimpering, and it’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.
“Wait!” She pulls away and tears off her cami. “I want to feel your tongue without any barriers!”
When her trembling hands struggle with the clasp of her bra, I help her. And then I go at her again, and again, and again, alternating between her breasts, as I make love to them. I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed fondling and suckling a woman’s breasts as I do now. Every sensation feels amplified—the warmth of her body, the weight of each soft and bouncy sphere in my hand, the velvety texture of her areolas on my tongue.
Her own hands never cease moving over my body, seeking out pleasure points on me. When they linger on a bulging muscle, it’s her own pleasure she indulges in. She hasn’t dared to reach down for my cock yet, but I have no doubt she will. She’s responsive, eager, greedy. Her ardor grows by the minute, delighting me.
She slips a hand under my T-shirt and runs it up my back to the shoulder blades and then down to the hip. I respond in kind, setting a hand in the curve of her waistline and sliding it around to her backside.
“Off with the pants!” I command.
Without discussion, she peels her jeans off and returns to my embrace. I pull her closer, pressing my body against hers. My cock is prodding her belly now. She doesn’t seem to mind, and she doesn’t draw away.
Is she ready for more?Because I’m dying for more.
But I need her explicit permission for that. And to give it, she needs to trust me unreservedly and feel completely safe.
I cup her mound through her panties.Damn, they’re soaked!
“Just the finger for now,” I murmur in her ear. “Is that OK? And if at any point you want me to stop, all you need to do is tell me to stop.”
She whispers back, “OK.”
I spend some time rubbing her through her panties. She moans and arches into my touch. She likes it so much that she begins to rock her hips, riding my hand. For me, it’s sweet torture. My breathing becomes ragged as I stroke her treasure without the slightest penetration.
Eventually, my hand slips beneath the waistline of her panties to caress the warm, slippery skin underneath. She’s unwaxed and dripping wet with anticipation.She’s so ready!
I spread her folds and play with her clitoris, gauging from the intensity of her moans the pace she enjoys best. It’s very tempting to make her come like this. But it’s even more tempting to make her come with the heel of my palm against her clit, and a finger inside her, provided her hymen allows it. Moving lower down her slit, I probe the seal with the tip of my finger. She gasps in surprise. I pause, giving her a chance to tell me to stop.
Between the two of us, I hope at least one can still make rational decisions. Stopping now would be the most rational move. But it won’t come from me. My cock took over the decision-making about an hour ago when she said she wanted me to be her first lover.
“Just the finger, right?” she asks. “And you won’t force it if there’s resistance?”
“I promise.”
I press gently through the barrier against my fingertip, feeling the tightness of an untouched hymen. It’s a first for me. After some pushback, it gives way. I push. She gasps when she realizes that the tip of my finger is now inside her.
“You OK?” I ask.
“Yes.” She wiggles a bit. “There’s no pain at all!”
“Good.”
Her eyes widen a little, and a grin spreads across her face. “I can’t believe how pleasant this is.”
