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She guides me underneath her shirt and bra to the sound of popping buttons, and then the warm sensation of her pert nipple under my thick fingers.
She moans loudly as I feel the welcome sensation of my hand over her chest, my mouth on her cunt, and my free hand working on her ass as she creates a new symphony of pleasure with her body using mine to pluck each note to new heights.
“Mark,” she gasps suddenly after a few minutes, warning me but it’s music to my ears.
“Maaaark,” she groans again, bucking harder as my hands move firmly against her.
I let out a low groan of my own, feeling it vibrate deep inside her as she loses her fight.
Loses the control she thought she had against my desire for her to find release.
Her sudden and intense climax fills my mouth as I feel it shudder through the rest of her body under my grip.
My dick twitching against my pants as I moan louder now, willing myself not to come while I taste her in my mouth, spreading her sweetness all over her pussy as my hands find the inside of her soft thighs.
Pushing up and down in time with her orgasm, I want my hands to feel as much of her as I can, my tongue to taste all of her.
The weight of my head against her body to show her how bad I want all of it.
Her body quivers under my touch, and all on its own. Her grip on my hair, pressing me deeper into her as her juices mix with her final cries of delight that tell me she’s done.
That I’ve given her something more than words. More than dinner or flowers. Maybe even more than saving her dad.
I feel like I’ve rescued Evelyn somehow. Freeing a lifetime of pent-up arousal and desire in a single moment.
My own needs mean nothing right now, and feeling her shudder to a slow moan against me is the best reward ever.
I know I’ve staked my claim.
I know she’ll be mine soon enough, it’s just a matter of time. And I’m in no real rush now.
Her taste in my mouth, her thighs against my face.
I think I’ve got this…
“I want you, Evelyn, like this… now and always,” I hear myself groaning, lifting myself up and pulling her by her ankles closer to me, her quivering valley an invitation to my engorged length which I’m fighting to free from my scrubs.
“Mark,” she moans again. Grabbing my face with both her hands. “Mark. I’m…” she gasps.
“Me too,” I admit, thinking she must be so close to her second climax I might not be able to hold back myself as I free my bobbing member from my pants finally, waiting for her to guide it inside her.
Until she finally manages to say it, what I know she’s probably been trying to tell me since we got inside her house.
“I’m a virgin, Mark. I’ve never done this before,” she puffs, her face flushed more with embarrassment than arousal now.
My face falling as my whole body relaxes against her.
In apology.
I feel stupid. Greedy.
Almost like I’ve misrepresented myself.
I don’t mean to disrespect her by being so forward.
I should have known, but how could I? I thought she could have, has had any guy she wanted.
But hearing her tell me straight up, looking up at me with those huge blue eyes, wondering if I’ll hold it against her?
It’s music to my ears.
Knowing she’s never had another’s hands on her. Never had anyone else…
I’ve never been happier about anything in my whole life.
“You don’t mind?” she squeaks, watching me beam from ear to ear as I raise my eyes to the heavens in thanks.
“No, baby. I don’t mind,” I tell her honestly, leaning down to kiss her and hold her gently.
“It means more to me than you think,” I admit because it really does.
“What do you mean?” she asks, sounding nervous. Ashamed almost, “I thought guys wanted-” she starts to say, but my lips silence hers.
“I mean you’ll be my only and I’ll be your first. And that’s what makes this so special,” I tell her.
Knowing my hands have been the only ones on her body, my mouth the only one on her, and my own manhood soon to be the only one to be inside her… It’s perfect.
Just like her.
The doorbell chimes and she jumps with a start, making me chuckle as I recall I did order some food for us both.
“I’ll go get that,” I tell her, not minding again the strain against my scrubs as I swagger to the front door, thanking the delivery driver and tipping him to the point he asks me to make sure.
“Oh, I’m sure,” I tell him. Knowing that paper is worthless compared to what I have waiting for me back inside.
