He barked a laugh. Was his mouth going to be perpetually fixed in this goofy smile? Everything she did made him feel happy. He put his arm around her and stroked her back, kissing the tip of her nose, her chin.
“Just relax, sweetheart. Relax and turn over on your back. Let me make love to you.”
She eased onto her back and watched him wordlessly, her eyes huge. He took her hands away from her chest and laid them at her sides. Her perfect breasts rose and fell quickly with her excited breathing. Hovering over one swollen nipple, he licked and nipped at it until she let out a low, needy moan. His hand came to rest on her flat belly, and he began making slow sensuous circles, coming closer and closer to the thatch of dark curls covering her mound. He could smell the heady perfume of her arousal, and his cock swelled even more in response. He schooled himself to move slowly.
“Put your knees up a bit and open your thighs,” he murmured to her, moving up to kiss her mouth. He thrust his tongue between her lips, suggesting the act that would come next. She moaned low again and her hips shifted restively on the bed, her legs parting for him. He dipped his index finger between her warm, slick folds, passing over her clit. She was still very wet, very relaxed. He began to push one finger into her opening.
“Oh!” Her startled cry made him stop his explorations.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she panted. “More.”
He pushed forward a little further, inserting the finger up to the second knuckle. There didn’t seem to be any resistance, just the hot, slippery walls of her snug pussy round him.
Her hips lifted off the bed, straining to meet his touch. As he pushed in as far as his finger would go, she gasped and clutched at his arm. He watched her face, rosy with arousal, tiny beads of perspiration on her upper lip. Her tongue flicked out and licked them away. He began to work his finger in and out, slowly at first, and then with more speed and force, stretching and stimulating her until she writhed on the bed.
Now he could plainly feel her slick juices coating his finger. He reached for a condom from the bedside table, then rose and knelt between her legs. She looked up, questioning, waiting, gray eyes wide as she watched him roll the condom down over his rigid cock. He touched the tip to her mound, then guided it up and down between her glistening folds, making himself as slick as possible. His cock throbbed, aching for release. Poised at her moist entrance, he bent forward and kissed her mouth. She whimpered, her fingers gripping his forearms as he began to push in.
He rocked forward, the broad head of his cock beginning to stretch her vaginal walls, his arms braced on either side of her for leverage. She pushed her hips up to meet him, her breath broken, her big eyes staring up into his. He held her gaze, easing in deeper, deeper, schooling himself to slow down, when all the time his whole body quivered with longing. The urge to thrust into her in one swift movement was almost overwhelming. He wanted to possess her, not just physically, but emotionally, to sweep her up into this glorious passion humming in his veins. He felt young and viral again, charged by her implicit belief in his sexual power.
Her body tensed against the rhythmic motion of his hips. Her eyes went wide. She panted, her nails digging into his arms.
“Oh, Jerrod!”
Instead of stopping, he kissed her, locking his lips to hers as he pushed on past the last barrier of flesh inside her. It gave away easily and in a moment he felt her body relax again, her breath sighing out against his face. Her eyes drifted closed, and a soft smile lifted her lips. She made a little sound of pleasure deep in her throat.
He grinned at her, nudging her lips with his own. Now he increased his speed and depth, thrusting like a piston into her slick opening. She lifted her hips again and began to push against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. The sensations of his arousal mounted, gathering, filling him until all he knew was the primal urge to find release deep inside her beautiful, pliant body.
He passed the point of control.
Drawn into the inexorable pull of his impending climax, his body finally convulsed, and he was lost to everything but the explosive sensations of orgasm. Intense pleasure spun him three-sixty. He heard the roar of his pulse in his ears, like a jet engine revving for takeoff, and then his arms gave way.
He collapsed gently beside her. The world tilted and expanded, going dark as he closed his eyes. And then gradually he found his way back. His heart slowed. He opened his eyes once again.
She was curled up against him, staring into his face.
“Is that how I looked a little while ago?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know. The red face and bulging veins and everything.”
He laughed and kissed her nose. “Trust me, little one, you were gorgeous. There’s nothing more beautiful or sexier than a woman when she’s coming.”
She looked relieved, then her brow furrowed slightly. “I thought we were supposed to make that happen together. You know, both of us come at the same time.”
He kissed her again, a feeling of true affection for her beginning to steal into his heart. How to reassure her? How to make certain she knew that there weren’t any big right-or-wrongs about sex?
“Come with me, darlin’. Let’s shower off.”
In the bathroom, he led her into the shower and turned the water to a soothing warm temperature. He soaped himself up quickly, rinsed, and then turned his attention to her. She stood under the spray looking a little lost, hugging herself. He added some scented shower gel to a soft washcloth and began to work it in gentle swirls over her breasts. She tensed as the cloth passed over her nipples, which were still slightly swollen from the avid attention he’d given them.
“Are you sore?”
She nodded. “A little.”
“How about here?” He moved the cloth down her smooth belly to her mound.
“Yes. I think I’m bleeding.”
He nudged her thighs apart. As he began to move the washcloth over her folds and back toward the opening of her pussy, she grasped his arm and sucked in her breath.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Macy. Next time will be much better, I promise.” He kissed her forehead.
“I know. All my friends told me that. I’m like the last one in my crowd to still be a virgin.” She gave a little giggle. “That is, I was.”
He glanced down. The washcloth was only faintly tinged with pink. She’d be fine in a day or two. Meanwhile, he wanted her to know what a special experience this had been for him. He put his arms around her and drew her close.
“Macy, I’m truly honored to have been your first conquest. I’m sure there will be lots of men falling at your feet in years to come. God knows things might get complicated between us, but for now there’s no reason we can’t have a little fun together. Is there?”
She looked up at him and shook her head, but her eyes were dark and mysterious.
Chapter 6
Macy woke the next morning just as first light came in through the drapes in Jerrod’s bedroom. Still naked, she lay perfectly still, listening to the even cadence of his breathing. He was naked too, and his big, hairy, warm body pressed up behind her, seeming to fill the entire king-sized bed. She had never shared a bed with anyone before, not even at sleepovers at her friends’ homes. She was used to being able to stretch and roll over, to find a cool spot on the sheets.
Not this morning. Not only was she consigned to the far edge of the mattress, but she found herself beset by an odd mix of disturbing emotions. Those—and the dull ache between her legs—made further sleep impossible.
Was it something like guilt she was feeling?
Last night, she’d been so caught up in the sexual excitement—the thrill of a man like Jerrod Preston finding her desirable—that she hadn’t thought at all about her dad. But, this morning she felt disloyal, as if she’d done something highly immoral and traitorous. He’d be so angry if he knew she had led his old friend into making love to her.
Thinking of her dad sent a twist of ho
mesickness through her. This trip to Portland was supposed to have been her first big adventure on her own. But instead of handling it like a mature person, she’d ended up getting herself in a huge mess. And now, to make matters worse, she’d just lost her virginity to a man she was forced to live with for the next few weeks. It was going to be awkward as hell. She wasn’t handling things on her own very well at all.
Awash with remorse and self-consciousness, she slipped from the bed and started for the door. It was one thing to be naked with a man—he was practically a stranger still, after all—under the cover of darkness or even in lamplight, and quite another in the harsh light of day.
As her hand touched the knob, he cleared his throat.
“Where are you going?” His voice sounded grumpy and thick with sleep.
“I—I was just going to get dressed,” she said over her shoulder, without turning.
“What for?” Now he did sound grumpy. “It’s Sunday. Come back to bed.”
She forced herself to turn around, fought down the urge to cover her naked breasts and crotch.
“I’m not sleepy. I’m going to go put on a pot of coffee.”
He reared up from his pillow and frowned.
“It’s not even six-thirty. What’s going on?”
“I—I—” She couldn’t bring herself to voice the confusion of emotions roiling inside.
“What is it, Macy?” His voice was gentler now. “Come here and talk to me.” He patted the mattress.
The last thing she wanted right then was to get back in his bed. How foolish she’d been to throw herself at him last night. She wasn’t ready for all this man-woman stuff. Nakedness. Sex. A bed that smelled musky and strange.
“Can we talk later? Please? I—I just really need a hot bath.”
“Oh. Still sore? Sure, sweetie, sure.” He waved her away and then lay back down and covered his face with a pillow.
Macy went down the stairs and snuck into the kitchen, glancing nervously at the windows to make sure none of the neighbors could see her nakedness. She found her big bath towel where she’d left it last night, draped over the back of a kitchen chair. As she wrapped it around herself, Peter-the-cat came in through his cat door and made a beeline for her ankles. The soft caress of his fur against her legs brought a smile to her lips.
“Thanks for the moral support, little buddy. I’ll be back in a few minutes to give you breakfast.”
Outside, the morning air was heavy with the smells of recently mown lawns and flowering shrubs. The fountain burbled softly. A bird in a nearby tree seemed to answer it. Macy walked to the hot tub and stood looking around, orienting herself to her surroundings in the daylight.
The screen of bamboo sheltered the tub on three sides so that none of the neighboring homes could see it, but she noticed now that the second floor windows of Jerrod’s own house overlooked the top of the screen. She was certain that must be his bedroom window there in plain sight.
Turning her back and using the towel as a shield, she eased herself into the soothing water. She turned on the jets and laid back. The water eddied and swirled, finding its way between her legs. She spread them a little further apart and positioned herself right over one of the frothing streams.
Ahhh. That’s better.
The friendly water seemed to stroke her sore pussy with infinite care, washing her folds, comforting and caressing her sensitized clit. She drifted, her mind stilling, her thoughts calming. She noticed she could almost pretend that it was Jerrod’s tender fingers stroking her, the way he had last night when she’d stood naked beside his bed. Remembering the amazing cascade of sensations that had overtaken her then, she blushed and moaned to herself. Her hands crept down into the water, holding her pussy lips apart for the water’s caress. Gradually, as it toyed with her, teasing and tempting her, Macy began to listen only to her body. She forgot all about feeling awkward and homesick. She began to imagine going back up the stairs and crawling into that big tousled bed.
And then what?
She wasn’t sure. She just knew that a warm throbbing sensation had begun to hum between her thighs, and Jerrod Preston would surely know how to help her with it.
* * * *
Jerrod threw his covers off and laid back, head cradled in his hands, staring at the sunlight filtering onto the vaulted ceiling. After Macy had left, he thought he’d go right back to sleep. But instead his mind had kicked on, reminding him of the events of the prior evening. He could feel the echoes of those events in his body now, the deep satisfaction that came from having good sex.
Had it been good for Macy too? From the uncomfortable look on her face just now, he’d guess she was experiencing some amount of discomfort and maybe remorse. That was too bad. He’d intended her first time be all about fun and pleasure. That she’d experienced pleasure last night he had no doubt. The orgasm he’d given her with his fingers had rocked her whole body to the core.
But what regrets might filter through the mind of a young woman the next morning? He had no idea whatsoever. The morning-after thoughts of a nineteen-year-old female were completely uncharted territory for him.
He closed his eyes and tried to think about something other than Macy Wilson. But without anything better to focus his gaze on, his head immediately filled with erotic images. The perfect symmetry of her breasts, topped with milk-chocolate nipples. How those nipples had gone from flat to turgid the moment he had touched them with his lips. The lush, soft curls covering her mound, the way she had looked when he laid her thighs open. The clean, arousing perfume of her pink pussy.
His cock stirred. He jerked upright in the bed.
God! What the hell was he doing? She was little more than a child. He’d taken her innocence with barely a second thought.
He remembered looking down and seeing his cock penetrating her, red and thick, thrusting greedily into her tight, wet opening. He should be disgusted with himself. But instead he was more turned on than he’d ever been. There was something about Macy’s unspoiled sexuality, her complete trust in him, her artless, eager participation that made him want to take her again. Right now.
Here, in this bed where he’d—
And then he had a flash of insight. This had to be all about his marriage, and how the sex had gotten so stale those last few years. Arlene had put up with him a couple of times a month, and that was about the extent of it. Her joyless acquiescence had made him feel dead to the vital force of sex. Ashamed of his needs. No wonder it had felt so good to give Macy that orgasm, to have her welcome his cock between her legs, where the powerful pulse of life thrummed so passionately between them.
She had wanted him.
A sexy, young woman had wanted him again.
The realization filled him, gladdened him. He had the urge to let go with a whoop of joy. Instead, he grinned and rolled out of bed. He’d make breakfast for them and then they’d go do something fun together. Something a young woman would enjoy. In a day or two, when her soreness had waned, he’d make love to her again, slowly and gently, taking all the time in the world.
He pulled on his jeans and a clean t-shirt and went barefoot down the stairs, whistling under his breath. In the kitchen, Peter waited by the laundry room door, his ears pinned back in annoyance. Jerrod fed him, made a pot of coffee, and took eggs out of the fridge. As he opened a loaf of the fresh sour dough bread they’d bought the day before, he heard the back door open.
He turned, expecting to see Macy dressed for the day. Instead, she stood in the open doorway, dripping wet and still as naked as when she’d left his bedroom.
“Uh, hi,” he said, his eyes going to her face. Her expression was unreadable. He schooled his gaze to stay there, not to drift lower, where silver water drops glistened on her perfect breasts and belly.
“Hi. Is there coffee yet?” She strolled over and stood next to him at the counter, watching as the pot finished brewing. Then she filled a cup, added creamer, and—to his amazement—hopped up on to the kitchen island. Hi
s heart pounded double time as she got herself settled there, her breasts bouncing, her mocha colored skin a delicious contrast to the light birch wood of the butcher block countertop. She arranged her knees in a prim position and gave him a beaming smile.
He wanted nothing more than to go to her. But he waited, leaning back against the counter across from her. What was she up to?
“Are you feeling better after your soak?”
“Know what I’ve decided, Jerrod? I’ve decided I’m feeling great. Just fantastic.”
“Okay. Glad to hear it. Me too.” He gave her an encouraging grin. It seemed like she had something else to say.
She sipped her coffee and looked thoughtful.
“You know, when I got up this morning, I was feeling really bad, like I had done something wrong last night. I was thinking about what my dad would say if he knew.”
Jerrod winced. Chuck would come unglued.
“But then, after I spent some time in the hot tub, I realized that I was doing all this thinking and worrying, instead of just feeling. Like maybe I should be paying attention to how great my body feels this morning. Like how awesome it was when you made me come.”
“I’m glad you liked it.”
“Yeah. It was awesome, like I said.” She took another sip. “So, instead of being all in my head about what we did, I decided I’d just try to go by what my body tells me for a change.”
He grinned. “Sounds good. And what is your body telling you right this minute?”
She smiled back over the rim of her cup, making him wait while she drained it.
“My body says it’s about time I started listening to it.”
He laughed. She set the cup down.
“Come here.” Her voice was low and husky. She crooked her finger at him.
He hardened instantly as he sauntered toward her, feeling that silly grin plastered all over his face again. The island was tall enough that they ended up almost eye to eye. He stood waiting, his erection snugged up against her knees, arms hanging at his sides. Not completely sure of what she had in mind, he thought he’d let her take the lead for now, though God knows he was aching to touch her.
Macy’s Awakening Page 5