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At the same time, he rests a hand on my knee and pulls it so my legs part, and then he moves his hand up to cup my mound. He slides his fingers down into my folds, and I sigh.
He lifts his head and looks at me again while he teases my clit. “Ready for me, Alice?”
I nod, suddenly breathless.
He strokes me for a while though, kissing me at the same time, until my heart is hammering on my ribs, and it’s impossible to stop my hips moving to meet his fingers. Only then does he lean across, pick up his wallet, extract a foil packet, and toss the wallet back on the table.
Looking back at me, he thinks for a moment, then he rolls over and gets to his feet. I watch him go through to the bathroom, and then he comes back out with a towel.
“Lift up,” he says, and when I do, he tucks the towel beneath me. “Just in case,” he adds. “Saves you getting it on the sheets and being embarrassed to tell housekeeping.”
Oh… he means if I bleed. Oh my. That was thoughtful. And now I’m nervous again.
Lying back beside me, he holds the packet up and nods at it. “Go on.”
I take it, tear it open carefully, and take out the condom.
“Make sure it’s the right way up,” he says. Then he shows me how to put it on him, ensuring there’s no air in the end, and rolling it slowly down. “Lock and load,” he states.
When it’s done, he moves between my legs. He pushes up my knees and shifts closer. Then, sitting back on his heels, he strokes the tip of his erection down through my folds. He does it a few times, and I realize he’s lubricating himself with my moisture. Then, finally, he presses the head against my entrance and lifts up to lean over me, hands braced on either side.
Fixing his gaze on mine, he pushes his hips forward.
I inhale sharply as I feel a sharp sting, and my body gives an involuntary jerk. He moves back and withdraws, glancing down. His eyebrows rise, just a tiny bit, and I look down and see blood on the condom. It occurs to me then that he wasn’t a hundred percent sure I was telling the truth about being a virgin.
“You okay?” he asks, leaning back over me. His eyes are filled with tenderness.
I nod, heart racing. “Do you want me to get a tissue?”
“Nah. It’s not much. I hope you won’t be too sore, but there’s not a lot I can do about that, apart from stop.”
“Oh God, don’t do that.”
He laughs and guides himself back inside me, and this time pushes firmly inside. I gasp at the amazing sensation of being stretched and filled so completely, right to the top. I close my eyes. He moves back and pushes forward again, and now his hips meet the back of my thighs, and he pauses and bends to kiss me.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “All the way in.”
“It feels amazing,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Not too sore?”
“Not enough to stop.”
He lowers on top of me, and he starts to move, giving long, slow thrusts while he kisses me hungrily. “Fuck me, you’re tight,” he murmurs, his voice a deep growl.
“Sorry.”
“It wasn’t a complaint. You feel fantastic.”
Pleased he’s enjoying it too, I feel almost tearful at the thought that I’ve done it, I’ve taken that step, and I’m not a virgin anymore. No longer will I feel resentful and puzzled when I watch people making out in the movies. Relief flows over me, along with a fierce, brilliant joy.
I sink my hands into his hair and plunge my tongue into his mouth, and he groans, his hips speeding up. Oh wow, this is amazing. Oh, I like having sex. I’m definitely doing this again.
We carry on like that for a while, kissing while he moves inside me, and then he lifts up.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
He stops and looks down at me. “I was going to change position.”
