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I found out later that while he was fucking me, his buddies were stealing my shit.
A few days later, I was moved to a foster house.
I didn't have sex again until I was nineteen. Though I did have the unfortunate repeat occurrence of fending off at least three of my foster fathers and then pretending I didn't notice the fourth one would come in and jerk off while watching me 'sleep'.
The guy when I was nineteen was names Glenn and was someone who had taken time out of his life to sit me down and teach me all the things about computers and hacking that I hadn't already picked up- the skills that would allow me to make a living of it. And gather better information on Lex.
I guess it could be said that I fucked him out of gratitude. I had nothing else to offer.
And he was nice enough. Twenty-five, a little short, kinda pudgy, with pasty white skin and big black-rimmed glasses. He could have been cute had he put any kind of effort into his appearance or wardrobe. There was none of the rough hands and frantic stabbing of a cock that my first partner provided me with. Glenn had hot hands, always just shy of truly clammy. But they always touched me softly, hesitantly. And his cock had only ever seemed half-hard when he got it inside me, slid around for a few minutes, made a choking sound in his throat, and came.
Such was sex for me.
So experience hadn't exactly suggested it would be a fun way to spend what little time I obviously had left.
But that being said, Good Guy Glenn and Dickhead Danny were not Breaker. They had been man-boys. They had been guys with cocks and no idea how to use them.
Something told me that Breaker knew how to use his.
And my body responded to that.
It had never done that before.
Sex had been a weird detached sensation.
Certainly not hot.
Nothing like the fire I felt when Breaker's lips were on me.
And if he could manage that with just his lips, what could he do with the rest of him?
Maybe I owed it to myself to see.
With that, I folded my legs up under myself and moved until I was kneeling beside his body on the couch, my knees pressing against his thigh.
His eyes found mine a second before his hands went out, grabbing my hips, and pulling me roughly until I was straddling his waist.
I had the almost blinding realization that I was completely naked underneath his tee before his fingers pressed into my hipbone hollows, drawing a throaty groan out of my lips and making me forget all about unimportant things like panties.
My hands went to his chest, pressing down both to steady myself and to feel connected to him.
He was barely touching me and I could feel the pulsating desire between my thighs.
“You want more, you're gonna have to take it,” he said, making my body jerk back slightly. Take it? Take what? As if sensing my confusion, he added, “I ain't no slow and sweet lover, doll. I fuck hard and rough and you'll probably walk away from this with some bruises along with your memories. You accept that? You want that? Then you are gonna make the first move.”
Oh.
Well.
Okay then.
I was pretty sure I wanted that.
I had never needed to initiate before. Douchebag Danny had pounced on me. Shy, awkward Glenn had kinda just fumbled around until I responded. Sort of.
I was pretty sure I could initiate. I wasn't sure what kind of initiative he was expecting, but I slowly leaned forward, my hands pressing harder against his chest as they took some of my weight and pressed my lips to his.
Apparently, that was enough.
His hands slid from my hips, going around my lower back and completely flattening my body to his. Then one of his arms moved up my back, his hand grabbing the back of my neck hard as his head tilted and he deepened the kiss, his teeth snagging my lower lip hard and pulling. Unprepared, my hips jerked, rubbing against his, finding his cock straining hard against the material of his jeans.
Breaker's tongue slipped inside my mouth, repeating the same predatory mating dance it had the last time, promising things as well as demanding them. My hands moved up toward his shoulders, curling in, feeling like I needed to hold on. The arm around my lower back tightened and pushed down until I felt the exposed sensitivity of my sex brush against the rough material containing his cock. A surprised gasp escaped my lips and a growl burst from his, his mouth pulling from mine, his eyes holding mine as he pulled my hips across his hardness.
My hands curled into the skin on the sides of his neck, my mouth falling open on a huff of air.
His hand released the back of my neck, his fingers moving around to brush ever-so slightly over the skin near my collarbone, making a shiver course through my body.
“You're so sensitive,” he said, his voice even deeper than usual and it sent a shiver to somewhere he couldn't see but I could feel all too clearly. “Arms up, doll,” he instructed, both of his hands sliding down to settle at the hem of his tee that was inched up high on my thighs. My arms went up above my head and with no pretense, he whipped the material off my body, leaving me naked on top of him while he was still completely dressed. “Fuck me,” he said under his breath, his hands planting on the sides of my thighs while his eyes roamed over my body.
I had never had much cause to feel insecurity. Given that I spent almost all of my time alone, wearing whatever I wanted, foregoing makeup, barely bothering to run a brush through my hair some days, it never much occurred to me to feel much of anything about my body.
I knew most would feel self-consciousness in my position.
