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Drawing an inconspicuous, steadying breath, I leaned forward on Amos, craning my neck to catch his lidded, hungry gaze. I fitted the head of his cock against the wet entrance of my pussy. He let out a harsh breath and steadied my hips with his hands. I lowered myself over him and an instant, electric shock of pleasure shot all the way to my toes. I gritted my teeth, letting my head fall. “Ah, Jesus, God.”
Amos pressed me further down his length.
It stretched and burned, and I curled my fingers, trying not to panic at the sensation. It was normal. I knew it was normal. I just had to move past it.
Amos made a strangled sound of pleasure. “Shit, you’re tight.”
“No, you’re huge,” I gritted out.
He let out a strained laugh. “Come on, baby. You can take me.”
His words caused my pussy to clench deliciously, and I lowered myself further on his cock, lower, lower, pushing past the burning and stretching that made my thighs tremble. Finally, he filled me to the point of discomfort, and I pressed my ass on him hard. Pain and pleasure had never been so tangible.
Amos groaned, his teeth gritting. “Fuck, you feel good.”
I moved up, testing my tolerance for it.Agh, this hurts,I thought with a twinge of despair. But there would be no “syrup.” Not when I was so close.
Amos guided my hips up, then down, slowly at first, and then faster. I balanced myself on his solid chest and braced my knees on the bed as I began to find a rhythm. As I moved on my own, Amos let his hand wander to my breast, sticky with chocolate, and he lifted my breast and let it fall. Then he squeezed, and I threw back my head from the distracting rapture of it. “Don’t stop,” I begged.
He squeezed my nipple, and I felt a gush of fluid cover my pussy from my own arousal. I made short, staccato sounds as I moved faster, pushing past the burning sensation and letting the toe-curling arousal take over my mind again. Amos thrust his pelvis in tempo with me, and I sensed his orgasm climbing with mine.
And then, to my utter dismay, my insecurities slammed into me like a right hook to my pleasure.I’m jiggling a lot,I thought, looking down at my soft body as it wobbled with every thrust.And I’m not close enough yet. He’s going to get there first. Fuck, how do I fake an orgasm?
I didn’t know if Amos had read my mind, or maybe it was normal to switch positions mid-sex, but he suddenly gripped my waist, lifted me like I weighed nothing more than an oversized teddy bear, and flipped our positions so I lay under him. Then, he pumped into me with relentless, exquisite strokes.
I let my head fall back again. I’d known from my own explorations that I had a sensitive G-spot, and he was hitting it justfuckingperfectly with his cock as he thrust in and out in fluid, rapid motions. I felt the coil starting to tighten. My legs tensed, and I clenched my teeth and screwed my eyes closed.Come on, June, you have to get there. You can’t let your first time be fake. You can do it. Just like you do at home.
I reached between us and found my clit, rubbing in tempo with his thrusts.
“Good girl,” he said, low and breathless. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
I let out a little, strangled cry, straining hard to get myself there. Amos grunted, tensing.
I pinched my clit, and legs rigid, toes pointed, I forced myself over the edge. I groaned as the orgasm clenched around him, squeezing tight and releasing some of the pressure he’d built up inside of me. It wasn’t exactly the same as I was used to in the quiet of my room and having all the time in the world to get myself there. But he’d cranked me up so tightly, the release—any release—was euphoric.
Bending his head down to my shoulder, Amos tensed, thrusting in short, fast strokes, and then went still, breathing steadily and softly.
I let my body relax, amazed that I’d managed to do it. I’d actually had sex, and not only had it—mostly—felt good, but it had also been fun. Really fun. And I’d managed to give myself an orgasm along with him, so all in all, that felt like a success to me.
And with that,I thought with a cat-like smile,I give you my V-card, Amos Brady.
Twelve
Amos
June went limp beneath me, her chest heaving and a sheen of sweat covering her luscious body. I cradled her against me, letting the aftershocks of the best orgasm of my life subside in excruciatingly satisfying pulses.
Respectfully, June… what the actual fuck? Where have you been?
I glanced between us, still in awe at the goddess who had so innocently, so sweetly pulled me into bed with her. She had the body the classic artists salivated for. She had a sensual, playful nature that couldn’t be replicated or faked by the best actresses. June was, quite simply, perfection. I couldn’t get a read on her sexual experience, but I was leaning towards “not much.” I’d tested her a little, pushing the usual “first sex” norms (barely), but she hadn’t balked for one second. Actually, she’d been eager. And just the thought of it was making me hard again.
She clutched my neck, her arms shaking. “Oh my God,” she breathed.
I couldn’t have said it better myself. I dropped a kiss on the curve between her neck and shoulder. “You okay?”
She laughed, one heavy gust of air that ended on a slight wheeze. “Okay? Brady, you’re a sex wizard.”
I nuzzled under her chin with my nose before kissing her cheek. “I mean your lungs.”
