by Alison Ryan
“Norah, you don’t get it, but you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. This world,” Macon swept his arms to indicate the endless desert around them. “That world,” he pointed back toward the Las Vegas Valley, the world-famous Strip that sat just on the other side of Frenchman Mountains. He was back to kissing her stomach, and then bypassed her shorts and began kissing her kneecaps, making Norah giggle. “And every other world.” Macon kissed and caressed Norah’s calves. He undid the clasps on Norah’s sandals and set them aside. He cradled her feet, each one in turn, in his hands and kissed the tops of them reverently. “I just want to keep kissing every inch of you, Norah.”
Norah purred her reply stretching her arms above her, basking on the rock. “Don’t let me stop you,” she said. “But is that all you want to do to me?”
From where Macon knelt by her feet, he looked up in surprise. “What?”
Norah let her head fall back gently, and raised a hand over her face to block the sun from her eyes. She couldn’t look at Macon as she said what followed; she’d be too mortified if he rejected her. She knew how she felt about Macon and was sure he felt the same, but she was jumping off the high dive here, and if she had second thoughts once she left the board, it would be too late to do anything about it.
“You’re going away. I know long-distance relationships don’t always work out, no matter how much the two people involved care about each other, or how many promises they make. But Macon, I can’t imagine my first time being with anyone but you. And I don’t even want to try to imagine your first time being with anybody but me.”
The wind blew across the desert, whistling as it was diverted by rocks and bluffs. Macon crawled back up to where he lay alongside Norah, and he kissed her deeply.
They turned to face each other, bare legs intertwined. Macon’s hands ran through Norah’s hair, and her hands clawed at his shoulders and chest.
Macon’s hand migrated to Norah’s hip, and she took his wrist and guided him gently to her breast. He could feel her erect nipple through her bra. He took a handful of her breast over the bra, then let his hand slip inside to free it. When his palm dragged across her bare nipple, Norah gasped.
She reached for the belt that held her boyfriend’s cargo shorts up, but the awkward angle made the struggle futile. Macon reached down and undid the clasp, shimmying them down. His own erection struggled against his boxers to be free.
Unnoticed by Macon during their frantic kissing, Norah had likewise divested herself of her shorts. They were as naked as they’d ever been together. In her trailer, in his bedroom, on occasion in the backseat of his car – but this time, their mutual desire would be realized; their passion no longer denied.
Macon straddled Norah, kissing her desperately as she writhed in anticipation.
He feared that he’d release too soon; just the thought of seeing Norah completely naked had him on the brink. He pulled away and took a deep breath, struggling to regain control of his rampant libido.
Norah took the initiative, yanking his boxers down, causing his cock to spring back up and slap against his midsection with a wet “thwack.”
Macon groaned as she took hold of his manhood, skin on skin for the first time. He was in serious jeopardy now. Her long strokes coaxed him inexorably toward the brink. He countered by leaning down and taking her nipple into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue as she stiffened and mewed.
“You’re sure?” Macon hoarsely asked.
Norah’s answer was a sleepy smile as she undid her bra and let it fall away, followed by slipping her panties down, and off.
Macon looked down from his perch above her, surveying her nakedness. It stacked up gloriously against fantasies that had fueled him since junior high.
“Slow. Just go slow. I love you, Macon,” Norah whispered, staring into Macon’s eyes.
“I love you, too,” he replied, and he slipped gently inside her.
She pulled him close at the moment of penetration, nuzzling his shoulder as he filled her. Halfway in, he paused and withdrew. Norah exhaled, thinking she’d cleared a hurdle; maybe it wouldn’t be so painful after all.
Macon had pulled out only so far as the tip of his cock, and only because another nanosecond inside Norah would have caused him to erupt.
He’d never felt anything so magical. She was a silken vise, her body specifically designed to give him pleasure. Nothing could possibly feel better.
Macon began to recite the Gettysburg Address in his mind, and then he silently cycled through algebraic proofs. Anything to distract and disconnect his mind from his body.
The pause served its intended purpose, and he drove back in, this time as far as he could go. Sheer ecstasy. She gripped him slightly, muscles inside her clinging to him as he slowly pulled out and thrust back in more quickly.
“Oh, fuck,” he exclaimed, increasing his pace despite Norah’s teeth sinking into his shoulder.
She’d crossed her ankles behind his thighs, holding on for dear life, and as he began to pound her in earnest, she bit down on his tanned shoulder in an effort to move past the searing pain in her core.
Norah had nothing to which she could compare Macon’s cock, but he felt enormous inside her. When he’d sunk all the way in that first time, she thought her pelvis would crack in half.
She was determined, however, to take it, no matter how much it hurt. To please her man. To make sure none of those pretty girls in New York would turn Macon’s head.
She clutched at him, desperate to somehow get closer to him. His skin felt hot to the touch, and she felt like she, herself, was boiling down there.
Macon settled into a steady tempo, keeping his premature ejaculation demons temporarily at bay, and the young lovers connected again through eye contact.
He’d never seen Norah look so beautiful; her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glassy. Her lips were wet from their kissing, her hair framing her face, splashed all over the red rock beneath her t-shirt pillow.
Norah had fallen in love with a mere boy. But what she looked up at now was unmistakably a man. Droplets of his sweat landed on her, one on her bottom lip, and she savored the salty flavor.
They each neared their precipice, Norah’s pain swallowed up by waves of pleasure from deep inside every time Macon went deep and he ground against her. Macon’s war was lost; he’d fought the good fight, but Norah’s body had zapped his strength, his will, and would soon empty him completely.
Their telepathy drove them to kiss, a powerful, gasping kiss as they crashed over the edge together. Neither had experienced an orgasm to match it. Macon broke their kiss to unleash a primal yell that sent every lizard and desert creature for miles scampering for cover.
Norah convulsed inside, every muscle clamping down around Macon’s erupting cock. Her thighs trembled and tears spilled down her cheeks. She’d do anything to freeze time at that moment, their shared climax bringing them closer, in her mind, than any two people had ever been or could ever be.
Macon noticed her tears as he recovered from his own wondrous trip to heaven.
“Norah, are you okay?”
She wiped her cheeks and grinned back at him. “I’m so fucking beyond ‘okay’.”
They kissed playfully, enjoying their final few spasms together.
“I have to… I can’t… I just need a second,” Macon apologized, letting himself slide out and collapsing onto his back. Complete exhaustion overtook him, and he inhaled deeply though his nose and let the breath out through puffed-out cheeks.
Norah sat up and leaned over him, kissing his forehead as they laughed and tickled each other.
Norah grabbed the closest article of clothing she could find, Macon’s green t-shirt, and pulled it over her head and fanned her hair out the back.
They held hands and turned their faces toward each other as they lay on their backs.
“I don’t have the words… ‘amazing’ falls so pitifully flat,” Macon’s words tailed away as he shook his head.
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br /> “Better than animal-style fries?” Norah asked, biting her bottom lip expectantly.
“No contest. If I could have you once or In-n-Out every day for the rest of my life, I guess I’d have to learn to make due with McDonald’s,” Macon replied, kissing Norah sweetly.
The couple went on like that, complimenting each other and making corny jokes. Eventually, Macon helped Norah clean up the evidence left behind by her lovemaking, and they decided to sacrifice their blanket to whatever desert gods were responsible for deflowered virgins.
They lay and sat on that rock for hours, basking in the afterglow. The sun sank, and the lights of the faraway Las Vegas Strip began twinkling in the distance.
Macon and Norah mulled over spending the night on their butte, but decided that night time in the desert meant creepy crawlies they’d rather not encounter, not to mention the possibility of drunks with guns.
They descended carefully, their blanket left behind, weighted down by a large rock Macon set atop it. It was stained with the remnants of what they’d just done, and a spilled drink.
Managing to avoid the nocturnal snaked and scorpions, they reached Macon’s car in the twilight. Waffles at Blueberry Hill awaited them.
And a night where they could both dream for the first time about what they’d actually done, rather than what they hoped and fantasized it might be like.
11
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