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My cock started to leak in my jeans.
“Do you have protection?” I whispered desperately against her lips.
“It’s okay,” the girl said, reaching between us for my zipper. “We don’t need that. I’m clean.”
“But what if I get you pregnant,” I said, and for some crazy reason my cock throbbed at the idea of it.
“Oh, honey, you won’t get me pregnant.” She brushed my cheek. “Now relax. This is going to feel real good.”
The moment she touched me and wrapped her fingers around my erection, my fears were vanquished. She released me from my jeans.
“Are you sure?” I breathed, my balls already heavy with cum. I hadn’t jerked off since the day before.
“I want to be your first,” she replied guiding me to her pussy.
When the naked, slippery head of my cock touched her slick pussy, I let out a loud groan. I had never felt anything like it. The softness. The wet, smooth folds of flesh curling around me. Licking me. Caressing me. And when she guided me inside her, I cried out, and my brain spun with the dizzying delights of being inside a woman for the first time.
“Oh God,” I rasped, clutching the headboard behind us.
Instinct took over me. Pure and primal. My body knew what it wanted, and it fiercely drove toward it with one thrust after another. There was nothing in this for her. This wasn’t about pleasing her. I wouldn’t know how to do that if I tried. No. It was about chasing the swell of the orgasm rising in my cock. That sweet tension building like a tightly coiled spring in my belly.
Possessed by the pleasure, I pushed her thighs further apart so I could thrust into her deeper. Harder. Faster. My cock pounded in and out of her tight pussy. A moment ago this was wrong. Now, I couldn’t stop myself. My breathing quickened. I was going to come. But it was nothing like making myself come with my hand. This was something else. Something I had no control over. Her warm, wet pussy tightened around me, milking my cock, and it was blowing my mind.
I started to come and let out a loud moan. The ecstasy was intense. I gripped the headboard again, and with one last thrust into her body, I growled with lustful euphoria as I shot what was the most intense orgasm of my life into her.
I dropped to her body, lost in the afterglow of my climax and the soft satin of her slip against my cheek.
It was the clapping that brought me back to reality.
My father. He was standing in the doorway. He must’ve been listening through the door.
He walked toward us, a lit cigar between his teeth as he grinned.
“Finally, my boy is a man,” he said.
I felt sick. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment.
I pulled out from the girl and my cum spilled out of her.
I tried to swallow but the shame and disgust formed a knot in my throat.
“I’m sorry,” I rasped. But she just smiled up at me.
“You’re a beautiful boy,” she whispered.
I wanted to take her by the face and kiss her gently, and tell her that she didn’t need to do these things. That she was beautiful and soft and how grateful I was that my first time was with such a sweet thing such as her. But then I saw my father and my feelings of appreciation and desire turned to darkness and hate.
He gestured to the girl to get out with a slight flick of his head. And just like that she was gone. My first time. My first lover.
Dismissed.
Regret poured through me, and I felt an overwhelming need to cry.
I rose to my feet and pulled up my jeans, thrusting my arms through my T-shirt and pulling it down over my head.
Turning to my father, hate heated up my veins. “Why did you make me do that?”
I felt so much in that moment. Shame. Hate. Betrayal.
“Why?” My father stepped closer, his dark eyes gleaming, his voice low and dangerous. “Because it was time you became a man instead of fucking around in that room of yours playing music and jerking off to the posters on your wall.”
He sucked on his cigar and the smoke stabbed my eyes.
“I’m raising you to be a man. Not some wet fish. You gotta harden the fuck up, boy. One day you’ll be the president of this club, just like your old man and your granddaddy before you, and you’re going to need the balls to do it.”
“Granddaddy would never have done this to you.”
My granddaddy was Hutch Calley, the original president of the Kings of Mayhem. He was a quiet spoken man. Quietly formidable. Yet charismatic and likable. He was a good leader, whereas my father was abrupt and loud. He controlled and commanded, and he took from people.
