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I’m not sure I actually form any words. All I can do is give myself to it, his tongue against my clit, over and over until I can’t think about anything else.
Any doubts, concerns for the future, about how he feels in relation to me….
They all drift away as I focus on the feeling instead, the unstoppable ecstasy of it.
Then it all shatters.
I can’t scream or moan, just make breathy panting noises as he indulgently licks my clit with even more ferocity.
I close my legs, instinct driving me, not thinking if I’m being too forward or if he’ll think I’m lame. I trap his head in place, wanting him to be close, feeling his hair tickle at my thighs.
But mostly, all I can feel is the swelling in my sex, the way my core flutters, and my clit pulses under the complete attention of my man.
My man.
I repeat the phrase, again and again, convincing myself this is it, the moment he realizes he only needs me. Forever.
“F-f-fuck,” I cry, finally finding my voice again.
My hips are moving as though on their own, and then another wave crashes into me.
I fall back, finding it difficult to keep up as my entire life becomes this one thing, this moment, this feeling. It’s just the euphoria in my core, fueled by my man’s tongue, and I just know – at least now – that everything’s going to work out okay.
Then the orgasm passes. I lean forward, struggling to catch my breath, my head groggy as if trying to tip me off balance.
What the heck was I just thinking?
He doesn’t even know he’smy man.
“Lucy.” He stands unsteadily as if lust has made him drunk. “I need you. I know what you said, but I’ll die if I don’t drive my rock-hard dick into your tight slit.”
“I want it,” I say.
A mistake.
His blood must be thundering through him, especially to his manhood. Even in his jeans, I can see his huge outline, and I remember how gigantic he felt against my belly.
I’m telling him the truth. Idowant it.
But it’s clear he’s taken my statement to mean Icando it.
And they’re two very different things.
“Wait,” I say.
His hand pauses on his belt buckle, trembling. He looks at me with partially glazed eyes, his jaw tight, and for a second, I think he’s going to tear his belt loose anyway.
For a second, I want him to.
“I’m a virgin.” I just get it out there, Band-Aid-style like I should’ve done before, so I don’t have time to overthink it. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
His voice has taken on an even dreamier quality. I get the sense he’s thinking a lot of stuff he’s not sharing with me. I’m sure I can see it, flitting across his eyes, birds of thought flying here and there.
“But I mean….” I sit up, adjusting my dress. “I can’t…my first time…not here.”
It’s difficult to speak in complete sentences when his hard gaze is fixed on me like this.
