“I’ve waited so long for this night,” he says as he lifts me gently and lays me on his bed. I see his eyes search mine through the darkness. He removes my heels, kissing the inside of my thighs inch by inch, in a slow pace as his lips ascend my body.
“Ahhh,” I moan out, absorbing the feeling of his tender lips and warm breath on my skin. His tongue flits up my side, making me squirm, driving me crazy with need.
“Ticklish I see,” he teases me. His tongue skims the side of my neck, sending shivers of pleasure through me, while his mouth and tongue alternate between tender and rough kisses around my throat. My head tilts instinctively as sparks ignite throughout my body and my erratic breaths keep rhythm with the motions of his tongue.
His mouth encircles my nipple with a delicate, feathery touch. I softly cry out his name. “Bryce . . .” My trembling hand rests on his firm, well-defined muscled arm, and it ripples in response to my touch.
With gentle ease, his hand drifts to my breasts, my skin hypersensitive with every touch. My groans of heated desire fuels him on. His tongue swirls around my nipple, softly biting and sucking while caressing my other breast with his gentle expert fingers, sending electric shocks to my clit.
A groan escapes me as my body yields to him and my chest thrusts upward and I can’t help but revel in these new sensations, tingling with need. “Oh, god . . . don’t stop,” I beg.
“Do you know how beautiful you are? I want to savor every inch of you inside and out.” His voice is a raspy whisper, burning desire evident in his eyes. Desire for me. His kisses and touch drive me crazy, but his words are my undoing.
My moans intensify, my body responding to him. His hand whispers over my skin and I cover his hand with mine and guide him away from my abdomen to my side. His fingers lightly glide down my leg and back up, reaching my G-string, pulling it to the side. He skims across my pelvis where my pubic hair should be.
“Dear god, Ali,” he moans loudly and I think he approves. He slips a finger inside me, circling around and back out up to my clit, his finger slowly teasing me and my hips jerk upward meeting his motions, looking for friction.
His hand continues its torturous titillation down my other leg. How can anything feel this fantastic? His hand begins a slow ascent toward my abdomen and I tense, afraid he’ll feel the scars and be repulsed. That definitely would kill the mood. So far, he has managed to miss them. His hand stops at the top of my thigh and he looks up at me.
“Is this okay?” His voice is deep and husky, but with concern.
“Yes, it’s more than okay,” I pant, looking down at him.
Reassured, he continues his erotic explorations with my hands on his head as guidance. His tongue trails up my side, lightly skimming across my stomach and back toward my breast. I feel the electricity erupting throughout my body like a traveling beacon guiding his way.
His erection presses against my thigh, and I feel the slickness form between my legs. I am aching to bring him into me. I run my fingers down his firm body and through his boxers, taking his pulsing cock in my hand.
“Touch me, baby,” he moans out.
It’s hard as iron, wrapped in velvety softness. My thumb rubs across the moisture gathered at the tip. I wrap my hand around his girth, my thumb not quite touching the tips of my fingers as they encompass him. He’s going to split me in two, but right now I don’t care.
An exaggerated groan escapes his throat as his licking and soft biting become more intense. My hand strokes up and down his long length, slow but firm, using the moisture from the tip as lube. I’ve never given a blowjob before but I want him in my mouth. I feel his body grow tense and his breathing picks up, becoming hard and shallow at the same time.
“Not yet,” he says, shifting his body so I have to release him.
He positions himself between my legs, spreading my thighs wide, pressing them down with his hands so I can’t close them. His head is near my pelvis. The kisses are quick and deliberate sending a message to my clit with every nip or tantalizing lick of his tongue on the insides of my thighs. He inhales every time he runs his nose up and down my vagina.
“You smell delicious,” he says, and in one swift motion, he removes the last article of clothing that separates us and drops my G-string on the floor. He parts the folds of my hairless mound, the soft licks of his tongue making my entire body jolt.
Oh god. His masterful tongue feels hard against my soft clit, flicking fast and keeping pressure against me. Depeche Mode’s “I Feel You,” comes through the sound system. I throw my head back into the mattress, my hyper aware body not knowing how to handle all these different sensations at once. His fingers run up and down my cleft as he inserts a finger, pushing in and upward, hitting my g-spot. Then back out, slowly, followed by another finger, while his tongue continues its soft rhythm on my clit.
“Mmmm . . . baby,” he moans. “You’re so wet. I can’t wait to fuck you,” he breathes out with a slight groan. Flicking faster, his tongue keeps time with the music as he continues lightly biting and sucking my now erect clit, while his fingers move with erotic motion inside of me.
I’m on the edge and I don’t know if I can handle this powerful energy building inside. The feeling is so intense. More intense than anything I’ve experienced doing to myself in the shower. I’m so close. It feels like the pull of the tide before it comes rushing back to shore. I am aching for fulfillment. I don’t know how to absorb this sensation. It’s everywhere. It’s me. I am it.
I try to call out his name, but it comes out in a garbled whisper. I groan out, louder. “Bryce.” The sensation gathering inside is indescribable, shooting down my legs, all the way up to my toes and back again. I grasp tightly to the sheets and my body goes rigid and shudders as I thrash against him, surrendering to him . . . to my orgasm . . . to finally letting go.
“I want you now.” His breaths are forced and hard.
“Yes, please.” My breathing is ragged as my chest heaves up and down. I’m barely able to speak the words; my body is still feeling the aftershocks of my orgasm. He sits up, removing his boxers and puts on the condom. With all his weight on his arms, he leans over me.
“Are you ready?” he asks gently, but I know he’s as anxious as I am.
“Yes,” I say quietly, looking directly at him. “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” comes out in a hushed and hurried tone. I bring up my legs up, opening myself to him.
He positions himself, and with an urgent thrust, he enters me and lets out a deep guttural moan. The sudden intrusion takes my breath away, leaving me gasping for air and crying out in passion.
“Are you okay? I don’t want to hurt you,” he asks, kissing me softly.
“Yes,” I reply. It’s painful, but I don’t want him to stop.
It’s a sensation like I’ve never encountered, pleasure and pain at the same time. His movements are gentle as though he’s savoring every movement. Savoring me, letting me feel him. I take all of him as my eyes roll to the back of my head, my back arches and my breathing intensifies. He feels good. The barrier is broken never to be put back up. Not with him.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he grunts with need and I do as he asks. My legs encircle him and he pushes further until he’s deep inside and I tense. He stops but I hold him to me in a silent approval to continue. “Oooh, it’s like sliding into a velvety vice,” he breathes out in a whisper as he picks up speed.
“Oh, god,” I cry out. He stops moving for a moment, concern filling his eyes. “Okay. It’s okay. I’m good,” I say and he starts to move again, slower this time.
“Your legs are so strong,” he says between thrusts. I feel I’m going to split in two. It’s painful, but a pain I welcome. I want this. I want this utmost sensual pleasure with him. As a groan escapes my lips, I push my hips higher to meet his thrusts. Slow and steady, we find our rhythm. My fingers run along the sides of his face. Knotting my fingers in his hair, tugging firmly as his mouth and tongue find mine, like two dancers picking up where they left off.
This feels good and it feels right, with him. This is intimacy in its purest form. I don’t want to be anywhere else except here in his bed with him inside of me, saturated with ecstasy, need and desire. With every few thrusts, he circles his hips and the feeling is, oooh . . . I feel uninhibited, vivacious, free, and ecstatic, and Bryce is the person making me feel this. He freed me.
I’m in a hypnotic trance and my orgasm is building. He’s taking me to a place I never thought I’d go. He lifts up, bringing my body higher in the air with my legs still wrapped around him, and I grab onto his arms. I didn’t think he could go any deeper but he is, completely filling me as his rapid thrusts hit my G-spot with every forward push.
“You feel so good, like I’m wrapped tightly in silk,” he grunts out, sounding animalistic, sending me over the edge. “I want to feel you come around my cock. I want you to come with me,” he says, his voice heady, dark, and breathless. His thrusts are vicious. As the tension in my body increases, my back arches in anticipation. “That’s right. Let go, let me feel you,” he says through clinched teeth.
“Bryce!” My hands release their grasp on his arms. My mouth falls open but the sounds won’t come as my head pushes hard into the mattress. My back arches higher thrusting my chest forward, my arms rise above my head to the headboard, trying to find something to grasp. I brace myself to help absorb this all-consuming energy while my body convulses and quivers. My legs tighten around him as my body goes rigid and I climax around him violently while my orgasm washes over me like a tsunami. His name crosses the threshold of my lips as my orgasm continues and I scream out for him as he pounds fervently.
He thrusts two more times and comes while shouting my name, “I’m coming, baby. Oh, fuck . . . Ali . . .” His continued movements bring him relief as he comes in a powerful, uninterrupted flow.
With loose limbs, he collapses on top of me, his forehead resting on mine, both of us panting heavily. I try to get as much air back into my lungs as possible as I try to reel my brain back into the Earth’s atmosphere. My heart’s hammering against my chest and I feel his doing the same. My legs are still wrapped around his waist and he’s still inside me as my muscles continue to contract around him like small aftershocks, making me shudder.
I instinctively put my arms around his back and hold onto him. For the first time, I get to hold his strong, rock hard, naked body. When he moves, I feel his muscles ripple beneath my fingers, like water in a lake when raindrops land on the surface. I unlock my legs and I wince as he gently pulls out of me and I find myself feeling bereft at his absence. I’m not a virgin, but I might as well be.
He removes the condom and discards it before lying on his side, facing me. “Are you okay?” he asks, gazing into my eyes, searching, while caressing my face. I see the concern in his eyes.
I turn, facing him, taking slow and easy breaths. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.” My whole body is sensitive to touch as I wait for the electrical currents to subside. “That was . . . you were . . . you are . . .” I can’t come up with a complete sentence. My brain isn’t working right now.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He kisses me softly then takes me in his arms and holds me.
I lie there, feeling safe and secure in his arms. Content. This is how my first time should have been. I should have been held and made to feel special, just like I do now. With my cheek against his strong, protective chest, I sigh out loud, “I’m glad it’s you, Bryce. I’m so glad it’s you.”
His arms tighten around me, “Me too.” He brushes my damp hair away from my face and kisses me tenderly, then nuzzles my ear. We lie together for what seems like hours, him lightly stroking my back, music playing softly in the background.
I’m sated, content and sleepy. I look up at Bryce and his look tells me he feels the same way. I’m so sleepy I can barely keep my eyes open, but I should go. No, I must go.
“I need to go home,” I say in a hushed voice.
He stops stroking my back and looks at me. “What? I’d like you to stay,” he says, looking and sounding confused.
“Yes, I don’t want to be one of those women who do the ‘walk of shame’ in the morning. People talk, you know.” I’m hoping that will lighten the mood.
“Is this the female version of ‘wham bam, thank you ma’am’?” He states with a chuckle.
“Hardly. I just know that if I stay longer, I’ll fall asleep. Right now, there’s nothing I would like more than to fall asleep with you here, in your arms, but I should go.”
I don’t want to ruin the evening, but I’m not ready to wake up with him next to me and take the chance that he’ll want to do this again with the room filled with light when he can see my entire body.
“I don’t want you to go, Ali. I want to wake up with you beside me.”
“I know, and one day we will, but for now, I need to go. I’ll take a cab home. You’ve been drinking and I don’t want you to drive.”
“If you must, I’ll take you.” I hear sincere disappointment in his voice.
“Thank you for understanding, Bryce. This night has meant so much to me.”
I want to cherish this feeling before I tell him and the bottom falls out from under us both. I’ll be crushed because I know he’ll want nothing more to do with me. He leans down, kissing me again. His mouth is so sensuous. I want to stay. I want to go. I’m a big ball of mixed emotions right now. “Tonight, this . . . this has been so . . .” I say, looking into his eyes. Again, I can’t find the words.