She's close. Ready. God. It feels so good to get her off, this sweet virgin of mine. But this is real. She’s in my bed, in my cabin, in my arms. I bury my mouth so tightly against her pussy that she can't help but gasp.
“Oh, Smith,” she cries. The longing between us so desperate, so damn deep. My fingers move inside her faster, until she is clinging to me. She moans as an orgasm rushes through her, her wet release dripping against my mouth, my hand. My heart is hers.
She finishes against me, and I tug off my jeans, my cock desperate to be free. I pull her up to sit and lift the hem of her shirt. “I need you bare naked, baby. I need to see all of my Sugarplum.”
She unclasps her bra and tosses it aside. Her hands placed over her curves. “It’s okay,” I say, pushing her hands to the mattress, wanting to see every inch of her, all of her skin, all of her lush curves, so damn ripe for the plucking.
“Your tits are so fucking hot,” I tell her, pushing them together, massaging those round globes of glory. Her nipples are hard, and I press my mouth to them. Greedy and needy, wanting to suck her pretty tits.
She begins to run her hands over my chest, and down to my cock, stroking me. My balls are nice and hot. There’s heat between us everywhere. God, it sounds so good to hear her moaning my name as I massage her breasts together.
They’re so fucking big. I can't hold them in my hands ― and I have some big fucking hands. I love it. She's so lush and so damn good to me. My cock aches to be pressed between her tits. I want to come on them. Come everywhere. I want to leave my mark on her. I want to make her full of my seed. Give her my baby, breed her, make her mine. God.
Fuck, the primal thoughts running through my mind would make her blush, but I don't care. I want to fuck her ass. I want to fuck her pussy. I want to fuck her mouth. I want to make her dirty and then I want to set her in my shower and wash every inch of her skin. Make her sparkling clean.
God, if she knew what I plan on doing to her. I shake my head, my grin fucking obvious.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks as she strokes me gently.
“Oh baby, I don't think you could handle all the things I'm thinking.”
“Start with something simple then,” she says.
“You sure you want that?” I ask her.
She nods. “Yes. I want you to tell me what happens next.”
I lay her back on the bed, her hair falling over her shoulders, my cock thick in her hand. I kiss her neck, her lips, her ear. I whisper, “I wanna fuck you baby. I want to fuck you with my cock so hard that you're ruined for all other men. I want my seed so deep inside you that you're marked as mine forever. That's what I want, and that's what I was thinking. Does that scare you, Sugarplum?”
Sugar shakes her head. “No, Smith,” she manages. “I’m not scared. I'm ready.”
Sugar
When he comes inside me, my world stops being grey… suddenly it’s a thousand bursts of light.
It hurts, but God, it feels so good. I’m on my back, and Smith is above me, filling me up slowly, sweetly, taking his time. My imperfections fade away, and I allow myself to see my body through his eyes. He seems to love every inch of me.
And God, how I love every inch of him. He is ripped, chiseled, and comfortable in his skin in a way I’ve always envied. And now, as his thick cock moves deeper inside of me, I feel a new wave of confidence ripple through me.
I smile, a big wide smile and Smith sees. Sees me. “You look so happy.”
“I am,” I tell him, grasping at the pleasure he is somehow able to deliver me. “You’re so hot, Smith. I feel like I’m with a supermodel.”
He kisses me, his hand on my cheek. “I’m no model, but I can be yours.”
I close my eyes, a hot tear running down my cheek. The idea that Smith wants me… all of me, for more than one night, is too overwhelming an idea. That he wants me for even this night catches my breath. I can’t even contemplate the idea of having him for longer. I don’t want to be heartbroken tomorrow. I want to savor this time with him as the single best night of my life.
It can be enough.
Maybe if I say it one hundred times, I’ll believe it.
“You’re so tight on my cock. God, I imagined having sex but… Sugar…” Smith is at a loss for words and I giggle. Sleeping with another virgin feels so otherworldly. Like I won the lottery at Christmas.
“I know,” I moan, as he moves deeper in me. “You make me feel so full.”
He grins. “I’ve seen porn, I figured I had a big cock.”
“It’s not big, Smith. It’s huge.”
“Glad you like it, Sugarplum.”
We stop talking after that because it’s hard to concentrate on words when the feelings rushing through me are so expansive and yet so encompassing.
Being with Smith isn't about having sex. It's more than that.
I knew sex was supposed to feel good. I've heard that all my life from foster sisters, from movies, from the girls my brother has dated and the other women I've known in the motorcycle club.
Sex is supposed to be hot and exciting and thrilling, but this is more than that. It's more than I thought possible and as Smith holds me, cradling me in his big strong arms, I feel small in a way that lets me feel so whole, so complete.
My heart pounds. This is not how anyone has described sex. I don’t feel caged in. For the first time in my life, I feel so utterly free. I wrap my arms around Smith, my legs around him. My body usually feels so big, like I'm taking up too much space, but here with Smith, I feel just the right size. Like I was made for him. Like his body was made to fill me up and my body was made to take him in.
His cock moves deeper inside of me and I moan as the pleasure begins to build, my core throbbing as he thrusts deep inside me. My creamy release coating his thick cock as he sinks deeper inside of me, taking me to the edge of oblivion and back again,
I run my fingers through his thick hair, holding onto him as if for dear life, and he whispers words in my ear, the kind of words I've always wanted to hear.
Sugar, you're everything. Sugar. You're so tight, so good, so perfect.
And I lose myself in his words, in his longing. I lose myself in it because it's the exact place I've always wanted to go, a place where I belong. And as Smith fucks me, I believe with all my heart that I could belong to him.
He finishes, and I finish too, our sweaty bodies pulsing with desire and need, and it's all too much. I've just met a man who's making me think dizzying things. That maybe, just maybe, my life could be about more than being bound to the Badlands. Maybe my life could be about more than surviving and getting through the day. Maybe life could be about being someone's sugarplum on Christmas morning.
“What are you thinking?” Smith asks, looking at me. I roll toward him, his leg hooks over mine, our skin glistening with sweat and sex. My breasts are pushed together. My tummy is bare. But I feel no insecurities because as Smith runs his fingers over my skin, I feel beautiful. Like a goddess.
“I'm thinking that what we just did exceeded all my expectations about sex. What about you?” I ask him, a delicious smile on my lips as he grunts in pleasure.