“Your pussy feels so good,” he moans. “So hot. So wet. Don’t stop. God, please don’t stop.”
I cry out when I come. Waves of sensation crash over me, and he watches my face as I come on his dick while it’s deep inside me. His breaths are quick and hot, and he moans as I finish.
He scoops me up and pulls me against him so that we’re flesh to flesh. Then he lifts and lowers me quickly once, twice, three times, and he grunts in my ear. “I’m coming,” he says. His dick grows even larger and he pulses inside me. “God, I’m coming so hard.”
I collapse against his chest, and press my face into his neck, trying to catch my breath. He holds me close to him, his hand sweeping up and down my back. I feel a laugh brewing inside me, and I try to hold it in.
He sets me back. “Are you crying?” he asks. “Oh, God, did I hurt you?” He pushes my hair back and stares into my face, thoroughly confused.
“You didn’t hurt me,” I tell him. “I promise.” Then I snicker and he slides out of me. I feel empty all of a sudden, but it’s okay because I’m a little sore. “I’m just…happy.” I try to explain, but I can’t. It was perfect. I snicker again.
“Just what a man wants. For his girlfriend to laugh after sex.” He snorts out a laugh, himself. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” I get off his lap, a little stiff.
“Want to take a bath with me?”
I nod. I’m feeling loose and lax and sated and am so damn happy, I’d do just about anything he wanted right now.
He pats my bottom and I get off of him, slightly ashamed of my nakedness when I realize he’s still wearing a shirt and his jeans didn’t get pushed down past his thighs.
As I run the bathwater, he disposes of the condom and comes to join me.
A thought hits me as he climbs into the tub and I sink into his waiting embrace. Did he just call me his girlfriend?
Josh
Star is stiff in my arms. She was putty in my hands when I was inside her, but now she’s stiff as a board. Did I hurt her? Did I do something wrong? Should I have waited? “I’m sorry,” I blurt out.
“For what?” she whispers, her lips against my skin.
“I should have waited until you were ready.” I take her face in my hands and search her eyes. Is she all right?
“I was ready,” she tells me. She lifts her head and sucks in a breath. “Did I hurt you?” She covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God, I was all over your lap, with all my weight on you. I hurt something, didn’t I? I should have let you take me to bed.”
I chuckle. I cough into my fist, trying to contain the laughter, but it’s hard. “You didn’t hurt me, Star,” I tell her. She relaxes back into me.
“Are you sure?”
“I promise.” I kiss her forehead. “That was your first time?” I ask quietly.
“Well, aside from…” Her voice trails off.
“That doesn’t count.”
“Then yes, that was my first time.” She sits up again. “Wait, has there been anyone for you since Lilly?”
I lift her hand to my lips. “No.” I kiss her fingertips one by one. “She was my first and my only. Until you.”
Star settles into me. “She looked really happy today.”
I nod, and her hair tickles the bottom of my chin. “She did.” My gut clenches. “I’m sorry I asked you for so much when we got back here. I should have waited.”
“Did you enjoy it?” she asks quietly.
“You know I did.” I smile, even though I know she’s not looking at my face.
“Then stop apologizing. I enjoyed it too.” She runs her fingers through the hair on my chest.
“I don’t want you to feel used.”
“Well,” she says, her tone full of saucy confrontation, “I totally admit to using you and I enjoyed every second of it.” She loses the playful tone. “Were you worried? About what it would be like since you can’t use your legs?”
God, I was terrified. “A little,” I admit. “It just means you had to do more work. I wish that part was different.” I wince inwardly. I’ve worried about that since I met her. Would I be able to thrust? The answer is no.
She picks up a bottle of shampoo and squirts some into her hand. Then she starts to lather my hair, her fingertips and nails abrading my scalp. I relax against the back of the tub and let her take care of me. I haven’t had anyone to take care of me in so long that my first impulse is to shove her away and do it myself. But it feels good to have someone care for me. I could get used to this.
“Is it because I don’t threaten you?” I ask.
She stops massaging my scalp. “What?”
“I can’t actually push myself inside you. Not in the traditional sense. Is that why you picked me? Because I’m not a threat?”
She picks up the handheld sprayer and directs it at my face. “No, doofus,” she says. “It’s because you’re handsome and kind and considerate and you brought me with you on this trip.”
I grab the wand so I can breathe and direct it away from me. “So you were just showing thanks?”
She scrunches up her face and scoots to the other end of the tub, where she proceeds to wash and rinse her hair. “It was because I like you,” she says, and then she gets out of the tub entirely. She walks out of the room.