“Come here,” I whisper.
She scoots closer and curls on her side before tentatively placing her hand on my chest. My heart goes out to her. Of course she’s tentative. She’s totally unused to all this. It’s all new to her.
“Are you ok?” I ask. “How do you feel?”
“Good.” Cynthia rests her forehead on my shoulder. “Obviously.”
I wrap an arm around her and pull her even closer. Cynthia sighs as her head finds my chest, and she places one leg atop my thigh.
There are going to be consequences to this. Not necessarily bad ones, but things are going to be forever changed between me and Cynthia.
I don’t want to think about those details right this moment though. I just want her to feel safe and comfortable in my arms.
I want to hold her like this so she knows I care. I want her to be aware of how it’s more than sex for me. I want to take care of her.
Cynthia’s hand traces lacy circles on my chest.
“Thank you,” she says. “That was –”
She hesitates as if she’s trying to find the words.
“Well, that was pretty much the perfect first time,” she says with a little chuckle.
I grin from ear to ear. It makes me absurdly happy that I was able to make it so amazing for her. And I know I want to do that again and again. I’m a man with a healthy appetite, and when I find something I like this much, I don’t let it go.
But we can discuss what comes next later.
“Good,” I say. “I think you’re not missing out on anything anymore.”
Cynthia lets out a small laugh and nestles tighter against me. Her eyes flutter closed as the exhaustion permeates her. I feel myself growing lethargic too. After the rush and heightened sensuality we just shared, the both of us are so satisfied that we can barely move.
I definitely don’t know where this is going, and we probably need to talk at length, but for now, I just want to hold her close and listen to the sound of her gentle breathing.
Chapter Nine
Cynthia
I squeeze my eyes shut and resist the urge to pinch myself.
Am I dreaming? Am I seriously lying in my bed totally naked next to Nate Ramsay? My hot older neighbor I’ve been crushing on for over a year?
I open my eyes, and there he is, his face peaceful as he dozes. His arms hold me tight.
The sex was mind blowing, but the cuddling is nice too.
I definitely need to process what just happened, but I don’t even know where to begin. My emotions are so mixed-up right now.
I just had sex. I just had sex for the very first time with Nate. And I called him Daddy. And it was amazing. I still can’t believe I actually had the guts to go through with it. And that I was brave enough to ask for what I wanted. He seemed to like it too.
But of course my mind doesn’t rest easy. I over-analyze, I always have, and after a little bit of cuddling, my mind is racing.
What comes next? Do we get out of bed, get dressed and then part ways? Are we going to talk about this?
Or is there some unspoken language to hook-ups that I’m not privy to, virgin that I am. Or was. I’ve been a virgin for so long, it’s strange to think that I’m not anymore.
Not that I’m upset. In fact, I’m overjoyed it was Nate. I trusted him to make sure I was ok, and he did not disappoint. I’ve heard my friend’s stories. And none of them came twice on their first time. In fact, most of my friend’s lost their virginities in a blur of bumbled apologies and awkwardness and inexperience.
Nate is anything but inexperienced. The way he touched me, the way he got me so primed and ready, the way he expertly navigated me towards climaxes – he knew exactly what he was doing. It was if my body was an instrument that he has spent his whole life learning how to play.
But I still am terrified of how to proceed.
Also, the fact that he is twenty years older than I am and my landlord is beginning to dawn on me. I can’t share this story with my friends. We can’t giggle over this while having glasses of wine. It’s too weird. My friends will try not to judge but they’ll still give me strange looks.
I definitely can’t tell them about the Daddy thing. It’s so private, and I don’t even know how I feel about it.
I did read once that sometimes women who are bosses in their career and totally independent actually enjoy being told what to do in bed. It’s freeing to just release all control. Maybe that’s just who I am. I can be ok with that. I would never deny myself my sexual preferences.
I still am not quite sure how to talk about it with my friends. Or with Nate. I have no idea how he felt about it. Sure, he seemed into it, but maybe he was just trying to get laid.
The more I think about it, the more my body tenses up. The fuzzy sleepiness that settled over my limbs post-sex evaporates, and I push myself up, the bedsheet clutched to my chest.
Nate stirs beside me. I catch my breath as I look down into his tan face. He opens his eyes and smiles up at me. “You ok?”
“Yeah.” My voice is fake and forced. I wince, but there’s nothing I can do. I’ve never been a good actress.
Nate can tell something is off. He probably can read the spiraling freak-out in my head. He sits up and puts his arm around me. I flush as he presses his lips gently against my cheek.
“Hey, it’s ok,” Nate murmurs. “I know that was sudden, do you wanna talk about
