I look away as my cheeks burn. “I’ve kissed a few girls,” I mumble.
She laughs, something I never get tired of, and it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard. Mischievous, but also beautiful. My heart is going to explode.
“So I’m your first first.” She leans back, pulls my hoodie and her blouse off in one smooth move, and suddenly she’s sitting ontop of me wearing just a white, lacy bra. She looks incredible and my brain doesn’t know how to handle it.
My cock does, though, because it twitches.
She catches me staring and grins. “Like, first look at these?”
I nod as I gaze at her chest, completely lost for words.
She leans over me, her hair falling in a golden curtain. Her hips settle lower, pressing against my?—
Oh. Fuck.
I’m so hard it hurts.
It feels oddly vulnerable, being hard in front of a girl. And I feel dumb for feeling that way because it reminds me how inexperienced I am.
She grinds on me, slow and gentle at first, like she’s testing what I can handle. The friction makes every nerve in my body light up, and I grip the sheets so I won’t embarrass myself by making a noise.
Cinna giggles against my neck. “You’re so sweet and shy. But you can relax with me, you know.” Her lips brush my ear. “Don’t be shy. I love that you’re hard for me.”
My face is burning. She takes my hands to guide them to her bare sides, and her skin is so soft, so warm, so unreal.
“It’s okay to touch,” she says.
My hands shake a little but I let myself touch. Her stomach is smooth under my palms, and I trace up to the curve beneath her bra. I can’t believe this is happening. Two hours ago I was debating whether my shirt looked too wrinkled. Now it’s on her floor and Cinna is on top of me, topless except for a white lace bra, and I’m rock hard under her, terrified of doing something wrong.
This feels like a dream, the kind I wake up from sweating and wishing it was real.
She kisses me again, slower this time and with plenty of tongue, and her hair falls around my face so the only thing Isee is her. There is only Cinna in my entire world. I get bolder, sliding my hands up her sides to the edge of her bra, then over the curve of her breasts. I don’t want to push too far but I want to remember this forever.
“Mmm, I like that,” she says.
She sits up, unhooks her bra, and peels it off. I lose the ability to breathe, I think.
She’s perfect. I just stare, lost in her, until she takes my hands and moves them up until I’m cupping her breasts. She’s so soft and full. I don’t know how to do this so I just try to memorize the shape of her.
She grinds down again, harder, and it almost makes me lose it in my jeans. I have to grab her hips and try to guide her up, desperate for relief, but she just laughs this wicked, gorgeous sound.
“Seriously. It’s okay,” she says. “It’s really hot that you’re so turned on by me that you can’t stop yourself. You think I’m sexy?”
I can barely get the word out. “Yeah.”
But it’s not just that. I want to remember every inch of her. I touch her sides, her breasts, her arms, her neck, her cheeks, her hair. I want her to know this is more than just sex to me. “You’re sexy and beautiful,” I say. “You’re perfect.”
She laughs, but it’s softer now and a little embarrassed. She tries to hide that her cheeks are pink and ducks her head.
She scoffs. “Come on. I am not perfect.” She cups her breasts in her hands and lifts them for emphasis. “They aren’t even the same size. See? One’s a bit bigger than the other.”
I don’t even hesitate. I raise myself to kiss her, then I kiss down the side of her neck, over her collarbone, then lower still, until my mouth is on her right breast. The skin there is soft and warm, and I love the way she shivers when I drag my tongue over her hard nipple. I take each breast in turn, licking and sucking,loving every bit of her. I want her to know how much I mean it. I want her to know she’s perfect, even the parts she thinks are flaws.
I look up, meeting her eyes, not letting her look away. “You’re crazy. Everything about you is perfect.”
Her eyes become glassy and she makes a sound that’s half-laugh, half-scoff. “Shut up,” she whispers. She covers her face for a second, then lowers her hands and I see a vulnerable look on her I’ve never seen before. She’s letting me see her, the real her, not the version she shows the world. For a second I think she’s going to kiss me again, but instead she pushes me back onto the bed.
She climbs down my body slowly, and I have no idea what to do with my hands so I just let them fall to my sides, fingers digging into the comforter. My face is on fire. I can’t even meet her eyes.
