I completely lost whatever hold I’d maintained over my own control as I groaned louder, arching my entire body up to his, smashing myself against his smooth, sweat-slicked chest, watching the muscles of his jaw clench as he dropped his head and cursed under his breath.
I knew I had driven him over the edge because he started slamming into me harder, his hand at the small of my back lifting me to him, rigid and insistent and deep inside of me, his string of half-words and animal noises rocking me to my very core. His hips crashing against mine, his body pounding away at me, his breathing ragged, losing control, sinking, soaring, dying, his voice finally rasping out, “Oh God... I can’t...” before letting out with a final, tortured groan, his shaft quaking fiercely inside of me again and again and again, his arms ultimately giving out from the effort of coming so violently. He collapsed on top of me, the full weight of his spent body on top of mine; panting, laughing, growling.
I could barely breathe, but I figured there were worse ways to go. Had my life been smothered out at that moment, I would have died a happy girl. I shifted to try and find some breathing room, and Trip must have taken the hint. He let out a heavy breath then rolled over onto his back, grinning ear to ear, dropping an arm over his face and exclaiming, “Holy shit!”
I was still flying high at that moment, registering the delicious afterglow of what had just transpired between us. I finally saw what all the fuss was about. I pulled the blanket up to my neck and said, “Nice, Chester. I always dreamed my first time would end with a sweaty guy yelling obscenities.”
He laughed his ass off, snuggling into me, a heavy arm around my shoulders, pulling me to face him, both of us trying to get our breathing back to normal. “Sorry. But christ! I don’t know what else to say.”
I nestled in against his arm, unable to stop myself from smiling. “Hmm. Well, let’s see. I let you get me drunk and deflower me out here in the wilderness... How ‘bout thank you, you ingrate?”
He was still grinning that gorgeous, white, elated grin as he said appreciatively, “You’re right. Thank you.”
I started to say, “You’re welcome,” but Trip had reached down to remove a little something from under the blanket, a little something that currently, was sheathing my new favorite thing about him. Before he even pulled his hand out from under the covers, he said, “Uh, Babe? Don’t know how to break this to you, but...”
My first thought was, Ohmygod! The condom broke! For one horrifying second I was sure that I was pregnant, that I’d never go to NYU and that I’d have to tell my father, who would immediately drop dead of a heart attack upon hearing the news.
So, it was almost an odd relief that all Trip was trying to tell me was that there was “a little bit of blood” down there.
Oh, God, how embarrassing! I was pretty mortified, but immediately grabbed my purse and dug out some Wet-Naps and tissues, thanking the good Lord up above that I at least had something we could use to clean ourselves up.
Trip grabbed a few of the towelette packets, slipped into his boxers and exited the tent, affording me some privacy.
I lifted the covers and peeked with one eye closed... and saw the small stain that was spotting the blanket under me, along with the mess of my inner thighs. Gross! Why does loss of virginity have to be so undignified?
I did a quick cleanup, found a pad in my purse and put my clothes back on, then rolled the stained blanket into a ball, which I shoved in the corner of the tent before going outside.
Trip was just inside the edge of the trees, naked except for his undies. Seeing him hanging out in the woods in just a pair of boxers was so out-of-place that it was comical. It broke the tension enough for me to laugh out, “Well, that was pretty horrifying,” trying to make light of the disgusting situation. I mean, what was I supposed to say? I was humiliated. And Trip was probably completely grossed out.
“Oh, so sex with me is horrifying? Nice, Lay.”
I took the opportunity he offered to dismiss the Texas Chainsaw Massacre back there in the tent and asked, “Did you just call me a nice lay, you perv?”
Trip did a double-take, realizing how I’d twisted his words around and started laughing. He leapt toward me and threw me over his shoulder, smacking my butt, telling me to cry uncle. I couldn’t twist out of his iron grip and I was not letting him win, so I reached down and grabbed the waistband of his boxers and gave a good tug.
“Wedgie defense!” I yelled as he put me down post haste.
“A wedgie? Really?” which cracked us both up as he adjusted himself in his shorts.