She arches underneath me, letting out a stung noise, and I’m letting out the same noise, because it’s so tight, God help me, it’s so tight. I’m only barely inside her, and already I can feel my groin clenching hot and deep with the need to release.
“Stay with me,” I murmur, dropping my forehead to hers. “Stay with me.”
She nods underneath me, her hands coming up to lace around my neck in a gesture that conveys pure, unsullied trust. Trust I don’t deserve, but I’ll do everything not to betray.
“It’s going to pinch,” I tell her. “But it shouldn’t hurt, because you’re nice and wet and ready for me. But if it does hurt, tell me and I’ll fix it.”
She nods again. “Okay. I—” she gives the most tentative of movements with her hips, and I nearly come from that alone. “It feels better now. Put more inside me.”
I lift my head so that she can lift hers and continue to watch as I push in another inch. The stretch of her around my cock is the filthiest thing I’ve ever seen and also the sweetest thing I’ve ever felt, and then I give her another inch. “You’re so tight here,” I mutter, and I can feel sweat starting to bead along the muscled furrows of my back and stomach. My bracing arm is trembling—my entire body is trembling, actually—with restraint.
“You’re shaking again,” she says.
“It’s because of you.”
This earns me a kiss. “More,” she commands, like a little queen.
“Darling, I’m going to have to push,” I say, my voice as shivery as my body right now. “It’s so fucking tight, I can’t—”
“More,” she says impatiently, and so I press my hips forward and slide in deeper, regretting every bit of force it takes to wedge in deeper.
She’s been watching me as I feed my cock into her pussy, but with this last thrust, she falls back, her eyes squeezing closed.
I freeze. “Zenny?”
“It doesn’t hurt…exactly,” she assures me, eyes still closed. Except her words aren’t very reassuring. I start to withdraw and her hands fly from my neck to my hips.
“No,” she begs. “Stay. Keep going. I’m breathing through it and…oh.” This last comes as I rock in and out the tiniest bit, giving her a little taste of what it will be like when I fuck her in truth.
“It doesn’t hurt,” she says again, but this time her words have a faint wonder to them. “It feels good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Halfway there, baby,” I soothe her. “Halfway there.”
I look down at where we’re joined myself and groan. Fuck me, but she’s tight, and the stark visual of my thickness spearing her virgin pussy is nearly too much. It’s only the barest shred of my control that keeps me from piercing the rest of the way home in one, sure thrust. Instead, I go slowly, agonizingly slowly, until finally at last, I’m all the way inside. I’m finally able to let go of my cock, and I brace myself on my elbows so that I can cradle her face in my hands.
“How are you doing?” I ask her, searching her face. “Okay?”
“Yes,” she says, and her hands move to pet at my stomach and chest. “Very yes.”
“I’m going to start moving now, and I’m going to play with your cunt as I do. We’re going to go slowly at first.”
And that’s how we begin for real—in slow, succulent movements, with her running her fingers along my abs and me braced on one arm by her head, my other hand splayed near her hip and my thumb working soft circles around her clit. And I’m murmuring more teacher words to her, telling her how good she is, how clever and how curious, telling her to move her hips or to hug my waist with her thighs. It takes all I have to be a teacher right now, all of my threadbare control, because she’s fitting me like a tight, hot glove, she’s so wet and everywhere she is so beautiful, so perfect, so Zenny. Even the tangle of chiffon around her hips is her, even the unpracticed catch of her heels on the bed. I love her and I’m fucking her, and I see now why she used those words earlier, make love, because that’s what this is. It’s still dirty, it’s still raw—I’m still gloating over the way her virgin cunt feels on my cock, I’m still biting at her breasts like an animal—but how I feel about her is a shimmering, golden thread through it all. It’s electric, sizzling everywhere, ionizing everything, transforming everything into something more than just biology.
I can’t explain it because I don’t understand it. I don’t understand myself, even.
I only understand that I love her.
“Sean,” she moans, and her head is flung back again, but this time not in pain, definitely not in pain. “I’m going to come again, oh God, oh my God—”
With a cry, she buckles and seizes around me, going so tight and so delicious, and the difference in this orgasm from her first is stunning, momentous, like it’s eating her alive and she can’t get enough of it. Her cries echo through the room, and she writhes and twists under my body, even as I keep her pinned in place with my hands and my hips. Impaled on my dick, she squirms and whimpers her way through it, finishing at last with an almighty shudder, and the sensation is so carnal, so vulgar, to have another person use you so baldly for their pleasure—and then for that person to be a gorgeous virgin who currently looks stunned, as if she never knew something could feel so good, as good as your cock inside her—
“Shit, shit, shit,” I mumble, because I’m coming, I’m going to come while I’m in her pussy, and I can’t, I promised her I wouldn’t, and I slide out of her cunt just in time. We both watch in crude, animalistic interest as my cock juts glistening and heavy between us, and then with several vicious throbs, fills the condom.
“Oh my God,” she breathes, “Sean, oh my God,” and then her hands are all over me as I finish grunting and pulsing my way through it, the condom finally full and my body drained.
“Shit,” I say again, but it’s probably the most reverently that word has ever been uttered.
Then my demanding newly-not-virgin sits up and says, “I want to do it again.”
Chapter 22
I’m amused at her eagerness, but I’m an unmoving wall of aftercare, which earns me a charming little tantrum.
“I’ll fuck you every time you ask me,” I promise. “But I need to make sure you’re doing okay first.”
“I’m okay,” she pouts. “Now come over here and do it again.”
I’m over at the bathroom door; I’ve just finished with the condom, and also with a ten-second staring session in the mirror where I stared at the face of a man who’s in love.
I’ve never been in love before.
It’s gutting and disorienting and dizzying—and joyful. Like a roller coaster careening wildly around corners, like a car punching into top gear as the highway streaks away underneath you. Like standing in a prairie summer storm—the blowing rain soaking your skin, lightning sawing across the sky, the wind a part of a song that you knew a long time ago but have since forgotten.
It’s too soon, but I love her.