AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I wanted you naked. I wanted you crying.”
“Why?”
In and out. In and out.
“Because,” he says. “It’s so beautiful.”
It’s so beautiful.
Notyou.
He puts his thumb on my clit.
All the sensation, all the pleasure, crashes into that single bundle of nerves and explodes. I come hard on his fingers and lose my balance completely. He holds me up, holds me back from the floor, but I drop the paintbrush again and one of my hands goes into fresh paint.
“Fuck,” he says, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he was desperate, too. Some inner part of me collapses. My shame overheats into something else. Maybe I am naked. Maybe I am crying. But he’s here with me. “Up, little painter. Now.”
My legs aren’t steady. I let him guide me behind the stool and bend me over it. Oh, no—I’m going to leave a handprint the color of my shame. I’m so lightheaded.
“I can’t paint anymore,” I tell him on a shuddering breath. I never once imagined that I would lose my virginity like this.
Emerson edges my legs apart with his foot against the inside of mine. I’m expecting a zipper but instead I hear the soft meeting of fabric against wood.
And then.
His tongue.
On my pussy.
I start to cry in earnest now from sheer relief. This angle is different and new and embarrassing. He has to hold me open to do it. I grip the edge of the stool like it can save me. His tongue is everywhere. Pushing in. Tasting. He licks me so furiously that through the haze in my mind I think it must be for a purpose. Another orgasm pulls me under, thrashes me around, and tosses me out again. The sounds I make are unrecognizable. So much. It’s so much.
Emerson stands up behind me, and now I do hear his zipper. Now I do hear the sharp breath he takes. It makes me feel unbearably close to him. I’m not the only one in this. I’m not the only one who needs this.
“I’m going to fuck you now. Can you be brave?”
“Yes.” My thighs tense with fear. I have honestly no idea how much this will hurt. I only know that I want it. “Please.”
Emerson strokes a hand down my back, down to my hip, and adds a little pressure.Stay still, that pressure says. He nudges my thighs a little farther apart with his free hand. Then, for a moment, both his hands are on my lower back. One last touch.
And then the head of him presses against my opening. I’m wet from his mouth, and wet from my own orgasms, but it still feels huge. Bigger than his fingers by far. There’s an automatic urge to get away, but Emerson holds me in place. His hands go to my hips. He’s working his way in. The wide head of him.
He’s huge.
My head goes up. “Yes. That’s it.” He moves my hips for me, rocking them back against him in tiny motions that would seem ridiculous if they weren’t working. If they weren’t opening me up for him. Emerson groans. “You’re so tight,” he says. “You’re squeezing my cock so tight.”
I want more of that. I want more of the emotion in his voice. And so I try harder to take him.
It’s not easy.
I have to stretch. To work at it. I’m covered in a sheen of sweat. Emerson slips one hand around to my clit and rubs at it in slow circles. I can feel myself melting around him.
I can feel him meeting that barrier inside.
There’s pressure there. It doesn’t belong. He wants past it. I want him to be past it.
“Take a deep breath.” His voice is the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever heard. I want it all over me. “Open your thighs. It’s all right.”
They’d started to slide shut, but I open them wide again, try to angle myself for him. It feels better this way. But the pressure is still there.
