"Are you okay?" he murmurs against my ear, as though he can sense that there is something going through my mind right now. I nod, flick my eyes up to meet his.
"I’ve – I’ve never... I’m a virgin," I blurt out. Oh, shit. He’s going to think that I’m some uptight prude, isn’t he? Maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut...
But instead, he smiles, traces a finger over my lips playfully.
"You really are old-fashioned, aren’t you?” he remarks. I smile.
"Is that going to be a problem?"
"Not if you’re willing to let me make you come," he replies. "Because I don’t think I can let you walk out of here without hearing you orgasm..."
He kisses me again, and his words sear through me, branding themselves on my brain like they have always belonged there. I am nervous, sure, but I know that I am doing the right thing, giving in to him, to this, to everything that comes with it.
He leads me to a couch, where he eases me down, standing over me as he leans down to plant a kiss on my cheek, brushing his lips over the very corner of my mouth. My whole body feels as though it is seizing up. I can’t control this – can't control myself. I don’t want to.
He drops to his knees in front of me, and I reach for him, pulling him close, already knowing what he wants to do to me. I ache for it, ache for him.
He pushes up my dress, my thighs exposed. My panties wet. He groans, running his callused hands over my skin, easing my knees apart as he kneels before me. He plants a kiss on the inside of my thigh and I can feel the roughness of his stubble against my skin – I let out a helpless moan, run my fingers through his hair, loving the feel of him there. Loving the knowledge that he is willing to do anything that he can to take me where I need to go.
"I want to taste you," he tells me, and his eyes flick up to meet mine as he brushes his lips further up my thigh. As though I am going to tell him to stop.
My breath tearing out of me, I nod, and he moves up a little further. I can’t take my eyes off of him, don’t even know how I could right now. I just want to feel him taste me, feel his lips touch my...
"Oh,” I whimper as he pulls down my panties and plants his mouth against my bare pussy for the first time. I keep myself well groomed, and he seems to like the way I taste, the way I look.
“Fuck, your pussy is sweet.” He pets me. “And you look so pure, so ripe, so fucking hot.” His mouth lowers again, his tongue against my folds.
The sensation is so new and so shocking that it takes me a moment to work out if I like it or not – but then, his tongue extends further, caressing over my clit, and my body sinks back into the couch as all the tension leaks from my muscles at once.
"Ohh, Shotgun," I moan, and I grasp his head, holding him in place as he starts to go down on me, my feet lifting to the edge of the couch, my knees splayed open as I grant him access to all of me.
How have I never done this before? It feels so good, I know that it’s going to be impossible for me to think of anything but how much I want this, how much I want him, from this moment on.
His tongue is soft and curious, a sharp contrast to how masculine and dominant the rest of him seems to be. I can hardly believe that this is really happening, but it is. This man, his head between my legs, his mouth pressed against my pussy, is going down on me like I am the most delicious thing that he has ever had in his entire life – and I want it. I want more.
I tip my head back onto the couch as he grasps my thighs, pushing my legs a little further apart so that he can take in every inch of me. I can already feel that orgasm starting to build inside of me, and I am amazed at how easily it seems to come. I can’t focus on anything but the pleasure that he is pouring into me, merciless with the way he is touching me, his tongue swirling circles around and around my clit until my thighs have started to clench around his head, and...
"Oh," I groan as the orgasm washes through me, like a cool breeze on a summer day. It’s the relief I have needed since the moment he pulled me through that door, something precious and indulgent and so deliciously good that I am sure that I’m not going to stay pinned to the ground below me. But his hands are on mine, fingers locking with my own, as though he is making sure every way that he knows how that I am his. That I belong to him.
He pulls away at last, finally giving me a moment to catch a breath. His mouth finds mine again, and I can taste my wetness on his lips, the sweetness of us mixed together. And, as I tuck my hand behind his head, I know that I am far from done with him for the night.
7
Shotgun
When she kisses me again, I know that she wants more. I don’t want to push
