His chest was lean, and dusted with a smattering of dark hair. His nipples were darker than I imagined, and harder under my fingertips. His stomach was toned but soft to the touch, and he was warm. He was so warm.
“You’re far better than any sketch I’ve ever done.”
It amused him, I could tell, his eyes twinkled in the lamplight. “The lady is easily pleased, it seems.”
I traced my fingers down his arms, and they were so firm. His hair felt nice to the touch, fine and soft. “No,” I said. “You’re just perfect. Everything I ever wanted.”
“Save that judgement until after.” He kissed my lips and I opened my mouth for him, and his tongue hunted mine, chased me down as his body positioned itself over mine. He unbuckled his belt, and wriggled from his trousers, and I felt him against me, the weight of his erection on my thigh.
And it felt big.
Big enough to make me nervous.
I was nervous.
“You’re ready?”
I nodded. “Please.”
“My pleasure.” His thighs nudged mine open, and I took a breath. “I’ll take it slow.”
I felt him press against me, felt him rub himself back and forth, teasing and pushing. It hurt for a moment, and I felt myself open up, just a little bit.
His breath was fast in my ear. “That’s it, Helen, that’s good. Nice and easy.”
He moved his hips and pushed against me again, and it hurt again. He stopped. Let me clench and wriggle around him.
“Are you ok?”
I nodded. “I’m good… don’t stop…”
His hips circled, tiny motions back and forth, so gently, opening me up and pushing deeper, and stopping again when I flinched.
And then something came over me, something needy and primal. I reached for him, pulling him closer, wanting him inside me.
“Take me,” I breathed. “Please, take me…”
He kissed me on the lips and pushed.
He pushed harder, and it hurt, and if the hurt had been a sound it would be high-pitched and sharp, a little sharp nick of pain. “Ow…”
“Nearly…”
He thrust and it hurt again, hurt deeper, but I wanted it so much. “Yes…”
“Good girl…” One final push and I felt the warmth of his belly against mine, and I was full of him, I could feel everything, clenching around him as he kissed my forehead. And it felt amazing, it felt like a beautiful dream. I felt like he was all the way in me, everywhere. “Fuck,” he said. “You feel so good.”
He moved his hips and it was tender inside, tender enough that I held my breath, but I was wet, I could hear it. I heard the noises as he slid in and out of me.
I wrapped my legs around him, and made myself move, made myself move how my body thought it should move, and it was sore, and weird, and deep, and really intense, but I was flying high, grinning.
“Is this everything you hoped for?” He kissed my forehead and sank into me and I groaned.
“More… it’s more…” I looked up at him, and his eyes were burning.
“Tell me if it gets too much.”
I nodded, and gasped as he thrust in harder, but it wasn’t painful like it had been, just… deep…
A rhythm. A beautiful slow rhythm that was taking me away. He moved and I moved with him, and I felt him, felt everything. Felt his breath on my lips and his eyes on mine, and the strain in his legs as he pushed in and out of me. I felt so close to him, closer than I’ve ever felt to anyone, and he kissed me like I was beautiful, like I was a woman, a real woman, like he wanted me more than anyone else in the universe.
He tilted his hips and it changed everything. I sucked in my breath and felt myself flutter inside, and it hurt a good hurt until it didn’t hurt at all. And he grunted, and pushed hard, and the rhythm got faster. And I heard his skin, slapping mine, and I couldn’t stop squirming.
“I’m going to come, is that ok?” he whispered.
And I nodded, I nodded into his neck and his body shuddered and jolted and slapped against mine. He hissed out his breath and pushed all the way in and I could feel his heartbeat against my chest and it was fast. And I felt him, I felt his excitement, I felt the way he needed me, the way he lost control, the way he wanted this.
I loved it when he came.
I’d never loved anything as much as the feeling when he came inside me.
His breath was heavy and his skin was hot and the weight of him pinned me to the bed. And he was still inside me. I could still feel him inside me. And I was throbbing around him, and he was throbbing too.
He kissed my lips and my cheeks and my eyes.
He kissed all of me.
And I never wanted him to stop.
Not ever.
Not until the end of time.
***
Mark
Such an alien sense of euphoria, the feeling of closeness with another human body, the release and the endorphins and the smell of sex on the air. I’d missed that.
I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed that until Helen Palmer’s beautiful body was underneath mine.