His hand moves between us and he rubs me a bit. Then he pushes himself in my opening. A little at a time he enters me, and then he stops. His forehead creases as he strains to hold himself in check. I can tell it’s difficult for him.
I want to get to the good part, but I know this part has to happen first. I’ve heard friends talk about it. So I’m as prepared as I’m going to be. “You know the Nike slogan?”
He looks at me like I’m nuts. “Yeah, why?”
“Just do it, Drew.”
His mouth curves up.
“Go on,” I urge.
One hand reaches under me and I already see the apology in his eyes. And then he thrusts. No, it’s more like a serious ram. Once, twice and then he’s in. And holy motherfucker it stings like fire. He stills and I know it’s because I’ve turned into marble. Frozen in time. I can’t move. I just want to lie there until the pain goes away. He makes all these little calming noises, but I don’t hear them for a second or two. I bite my lips to keep from howling. But then the pain eases off and after another minute or two or three, it finally slips away. I slowly come back to my senses.
“Deep breath, sweetheart. Come on. Just one,” he says.
I breathe. And my body relaxes. I do it again and I feel better and better.
Then I notice he’s rubbing my face, my forehead, and pressing tiny kisses all over me.
“You better?” he asks.
“Yeah. I am. Do you think you can move?” When he starts to roll off of me, I stop him by grabbing his face and I smile. “No, not that kind of move. I mean move inside of me.”
“You’re sure?” he asks tentatively.
Still smiling, I say, “I’m very sure.”
His lips skim mine. “You don’t hurt?”
“Not now.”
He starts to test the waters. And while I have to say I’m not completely pain free, it’s more soreness than actual pain. So I tell him.
“Thank god. I was afraid I’d really hurt you.”
I shake my head. “I’m good. For a minute there, it wasn’t great, but now, I’m fine.”
Slowly he increases his pace until he moves in earnest. He lifts his body a little, but only enough to slide his arm between us. Then I feel his fingers on my clit and everything intensifies. Throughout all this, I can’t help but watch him. Even though the sensations I’m experiencing are awesome, observing him is a sensuous journey in itself and I respond to that, too. Before long, I am caught up in everything—Drew, the sounds he makes, the way he looks and feels against my skin and inside of me, and the way he reacts to me. And before I know what’s happening, I’m tumbling, falling as I orgasm and he calls out my name as he follows.
My hands are molded to his ass and I didn’t even know I’d put them there. I release the pressure on them and smooth my hands over his cheeks, then I roam up the wide sea of his back. His muscles tense beneath my fingers but my eyes dig into his, bright blue with deeper striations. They remind me of the ocean on a clear spring day. “Kiss me, Drew.”
He does, beginning at one corner of my mouth, playing with my upper and lower lip. His tongue darts in and out of my mouth. He’s an artful kisser, doing all sorts of lovely things with his tongue. All of a sudden he rolls over and I’m on top.
“I want you this way, next time. I want to see you ride me, Cate. With your head thrown back and your hair tumbling all over the place. Tell me I didn’t hurt you too much. I know you already said it, but I need to hear it again.” He takes my hand and kisses each fingertip.
“At first it stung more than hurt, and then it went away. But then … I had an amazing orgasm.”
“I could tell. I felt it when you came.”
“You did?” This fascinates the hell out of me. “Tell me.”
“You squeezed me. In sequences. Like a song keeping tempo.” What a nice way to put it.
I’m riding on a post sex high and I love how I don’t feel awkward with Drew like I did with the dickwad. It feels so good that I can just be honest about how I feel.
“I love the way you sound when you come.” I’m sure my face is pink when I say this.
“Hmmm. Then I’ll have to come more often, won’t I?”
He makes me feel empowered that I could get him there. Still, I’m a bit shy when I say, “I suppose so.”
“But right now, I need to pull out of you and get rid of this condom, even though it’s the last thing I want to do.”
“Right. I guess it’s the smart thing to do.” I shimmy off him and let him up. And I miss him immediately. I hear the toilet flush and the water running. Then he’s back with a smile, a glass, and something in the other hand.
“What’s this?”
“Ibuprofen. I don’t want you to be sore.”
“Thanks.” I swallow the pills.
He pulls me back on top of him. “I’d like to make you come again and again, but I don’t want you to be any more sore than you already are.”
“I think you’re making a bigger deal out of this than is necessary.”
“No, I’m not. Besides, I have to get up early for my shift.” He rubs my back and I purr.
“Okay, I’ll give you a pass then.”
“Cate, you need to go use the restroom.”
“No, I’m fine.”