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I lean forward and kiss her lips, slide my tongue along them, tasting how wet she is, licking up the little rivulet of lust slipping out of her. Her clit is so sensitive, my breath itself making her let out a sexy, low, “yes…” I take it between my lips, sucking lightly as my finger traces along her opening, feeling the slickness and teasing her with penetration. I run my tongue up her from back to front, flicking it inside her channel. My hands move to grip her hips as she begins to buck against my mouth.
I put my mouth over her clit, sucking and moving my tongue in circles as her sighs turn to moans and then to cries. She arches her back, hands gripping the couch, nails digging into the fabric, as she clenches, shakes, and quivers through an orgasm. The first of many, I’m hoping.
I continue to suck on her, massaging her clit with my tongue, tasting the wetness that is now dripping out of her, easing her back to reality, but only for a moment. With this girl, there will be no such thing as a quickie, I think. This is something I want to do all the way, every time.
Her hands come down and comb through my hair. I kiss along her thighs again, moving back briefly to her clit, grinning a little at the quick intake of her breath.
“Sensitive,” she whispers.
I kiss up her stomach, reaching down to undo my belt as I move toward her, wanting to feel her inside, to know how it is to be enveloped by her.
“Brady,” she says, her hands coming down to still my arms. “Listen.”
8
Megan
I’ve been dreading this moment for practically my entire life. Well, dreading it and at the same time sort of wondering if it will ever come. I mean, I don’t know. I guess I figured it could go both ways. And I suppose everyone’s been here at some point, right? Or maybe not. I guess, I just…I don’t know. Maybe people justknow, or like,assume? But this probably isn’t the typical virgin confessional situation either.
I’m sitting here, feeling foolish, trying to get the words to untangle in my head when I start to laugh a little. In all the scenarios I’ve played out, this has never been one of them. Brady is frozen in place, his shoulders between my thighs, his hands still on my hips, and his head cocked to the side. He’s actuallylistening. Like a cop.
He looks up at me, a little smile starting to spread on his lips. “I suppose this isn’t exactly what you meant,” he says.
I put my hands on his and smile back. “No, not quite.” For just a heartbeat, I feel all of the tension well up, and then he’s looking at me. And it’s his eyes. They show everything inside of him. Maybe it’s just hard-wired into him, something he takes for granted. I’d say he probably thinks everyone is like him, but he couldn’t be farther from the truth.
“What is it?” he asks, and before I have to say anything, it’s almost as if everything falls into place for him. His eyes soften and he takes my hand, kissing the underside of my wrist. “We can stop,” he says. And despite everything I’ve ever heard, everything my aunt has told me about guys and their shifty ways, about how they’ll say anything to do one thing, I believe him.
“It’s not that,” I say, watching his lips on my skin. “I just…I just thought you should know. Maybe you wouldn’t want to…ya know…” I can feel my cheeks reddening. I sound like such a little girl. Like I can’t even bring myself to say the word ‘sex,’ and if that’s what he thinks, how in the world is he ever going to believe I’d actually want to do it?
Maybe he never did in the first place. Maybe he just got carried away, or…
“Hey,” he says, bringing me out of my carousel of thoughts. “I know this might make me sound like a creep, but I like it. I really like it a lot, Megan.”
I can feel my shoulders relax almost instantly. Whatever it is about this man, and it’s something I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to put a finger on, I trust him implicitly. I feel myself with him and, after almost two decades, I know that’s something that has never happened before. Shoot, I barely feel comfortable with myself when I’m by myself.
“Not a creep,” I say. “A gentleman.”
He leans down and kisses my stomach and again I’m shocked by how natural it all feels. Any other moment in my life I’d be doing my best to hide my body and now, with Brady, I want him to see it, to take it, to make it his.
He looks at me with that crooked grin again. “I don’t think anyone’s ever accused me of that before.” He puts his hands on my knees and stands up and I can see how hard he is, pressing against his jeans. I reach out and run my finger down the length of him, watching his stomach muscles tighten at my touch.
“We don’t have to stop,” I say and realize I almost sound panicked. Heck, Ifeelpanicked. Here is this perfect guy and I’ve gone and almost talked him out of what we clearly both want.
He reaches down and adjusts his erection. It’s something I’ve heard about, something I remember guys doing in the gym, well, not the erection part, but somehow it’s not vulgar. It’s not gross or off-putting, it’s just, well, it’s just us. Whatever us means in this moment.
“Look,” he says, taking a seat beside me and turning me so my legs are on the couch again. “I don’t want to stop. I don’t know what it is about you, but…,” he trails off. “I’m not good with words. They don’t expect us to be smooth-talkers at the station.” He laughs a little and looks at me. “Are you sure?”
This could go so many ways, but at the time same, for once in my life, I know precisely which way I want it to go, and bafflingly, I’m not embarrassed to admit it. I sit up, take his hand and kiss his next. “I’ve never been more sure.”
And then, bringing all those baffling feelings back, he stands up and grabs his keys off the table. “I’ll be back,” he says, walking to the door. “You might want to put some clothes on, though.”
Right before I can feel crushed, humiliated, and ashamed, he smiles at me. “We’re not stopping. This is more like a pause. Be ready in about fifteen minutes.” And with that, he slips out of the apartment.
I sit for a minute, listening to his footsteps in the hall, and then fall back on the couch. No, as far as virginal confessions go, this is certainly one that never played out in my mind. What was he doing?
Then it dawns on me. Condoms, duh. He doesn’t want to knock up some random girl. I stare up at the ceiling, thinking about what that means. Am I a random girl? Does he do this a lot? I start second-guessing myself. Maybe this is just like histhing.Deflowering virgins. He said he liked it after all. Did I completely misread all of that?
But, wait. No. He said get dressed. Surely if he just wanted to run down to the drugstore he wouldn’t want to go through the whole process again. Although thinking about it I can feel my thighs warm again. The whole process was a pretty great one.
