by Lane Hart
“You like that, Sam?” Grant asks, nipping at my earlobe.
“Yes,” I answer in a breathy moan. My back arches, pressing my breasts further into his palms and simultaneously grinding my ass down onto his hard cock.
“You want one of my hands….lower?’ he asks, trailing his fingertips down the center of my stomach and playing with the top of my panty line. I try to urge his hand lower, but he doesn’t budge. “Sam? Tell me.”
“Yes, lower,” I answer, and he finally relents, slipping his hand inside the front of my panties. “Ohmygod,” I moan, and the words comes out in a rush. I nearly jump out of my own skin at the first brush of Grant’s fingers between my legs.
My hips start to buck upward as he teases me, skimming just the pad of his middle finger over the most delicious spot and then circling away, over and over again. I grab his wrist with both hands to try and make him go lower.
“More?” he asks against my ear, the tip of his tongue snaking out to taste it and drive me crazy.
“Yes! Please, Grant,” I beg.
“Have you ever had an orgasm, Sam?”
I shake my head in response since I’ve never even kissed anyone but Grant. And I’ve never…touched myself down there. Never had the urge, but maybe that’s because I had no freaking idea how incredible it could feel.
Chapter Ten
Grant
In my twenty-nine years, I’ve had plenty of sexual encounters, more times than I can count with various beautiful, incredibly horny women. All manners of wild, kinky and just plain dirty, sweaty, body slapping, shout down the walls it’s so good, sex.
And yet, right here, right now, with Sam sitting on my lap, her legs spread open with one of my hands on her titty and the other playing with her pussy, I’ve never been so turned on, or with a more responsive woman. Maybe that’s because I’m the lucky man who is the first to ever touch her.
I had my doubts and serious concerns about taking on the responsibility of being with a virgin. But if Sam reacts to everything with this same level of…enthusiasm, well, I’m going to thoroughly enjoy exploring her body, showing her pleasure she’s never experienced. Every second of the day I want her craving more of what only I can give her.
“More, please more,” Samantha pleads. My fingertips have barely touched her clit, and she’s nearly convulsing.
“Shh, baby, calm down,” I tell her even though I don’t really mean it. I like her unfiltered reaction, but I can’t go further like I want, slipping my fingers inside of her virgin pussy with her bucking like a bronco, or I’ll risk hurting her.
Banding my free arm tightly around her waist to hold her down on my lap, I tell her, “This is your clitoris,” before I show her, my middle finger applying pressure to the swollen bud. “You’re gonna want to remember it later so you can get yourself off.”
Taking her hand, I show her how to touch herself. Sam’s a fast learner and doesn’t shy away from playing with herself. While she’s busy stimulating her clit, I ease my fingers down and prod her opening with just the tip of my index finger. She’s soaking wet, so I push inside of her a little more.
Fuck, she’s tight.
Slowly and gently, I start pumping my finger in and out of her a little further each time, stroking her silky walls.
“Ohhh God,” Sam groans, her squirming coming to a stop on my lap.
“This is your sweet, virgin pussy,” I whisper in her ear. “We must be doing something right, baby, because you’re so wet and ready to get fucked.”
Sam’s panting breaths start to come faster when I pump two fingers inside of her and use my thumb to strum her clit because she stopped touching herself, too distracted by what I’m doing. Instead, her fingernails sink into my arm that’s between her legs, not pulling it away or forcing me faster, just hanging on tight.
Speaking of tight…
“Ah! Ah! Graannnt!”
Sam’s pussy clamps down on my fingers when she comes apart. Her body shakes violently on my lap from the intensity of the pleasure, the first pleasure she’s ever had. I milk her orgasm from her for as long as I can, until her body slumps limply against me.
“You okay?” I ask, slipping my hand from her panties and pulling her shirt back down, worried she may turn shy after being so vulnerable with me.
“Uh-huh,” she answers with a nod. Shifting sideways on my lap, she lays her head on my chest and wraps her arms around my neck, cuddling up to me, which I admit is much more preferable to her freaking out and running.
I just hold her while she rubs against me like a content, well-fed kitten. Instead of purring, she occasionally makes these happy little humming sounds in the back of her throat. Maybe she wants to say something but is just too sleepy to get the words out.
“What time is it?” she eventually asks, sounding groggy.
I glance at the clock on the DVR box. “Eight-thirty.”
“I should go,” she says when she lifts her head, her eyelids drooping.
“Just a few more minutes?” I ask her, leaning down to kiss her lips.
A few more minutes turns into nearly an hour before our lips finally separate.
“I…I really need to go,” Sam says between gasps.
“Fine,” I agree.
“See you tomorrow night?” I ask, pushing her long hair behind her ear.
“Yeah, and, um, maybe you can show me how to touch you?” she offers shyly.
Groaning at the thought of wanting her hands on me, I still tell her, “Not yet, Sam.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m trying to take things slow with you, and it feels much better for me when it’s wet…”
“And how do you…ohhh,” she mutters, her eyes widening when she answers her own question.
“We’ll get to that soon,” I tell her before giving her an open-mouthed kiss on her neck. “First, we’ll explore your body, and then you can explore mine.”
“Okay,” she easily agrees.
“Tomorrow, can I taste your pussy?” I ask, and her green eyes quickly lower as her cheeks turn bright red. “My tongue will feel even better than what we did today,” I promise her. “So much better that afterwards, you’ll start begging me to tongue fuck you whenever you see me.”
“Let me, um, let me think about it,” she says, which is exactly what I intended. I want her to think about it all night and during class tomorrow until it’s all that she can think about.
“Sure,” I tell her. “Whenever you’re ready. I won’t even tie you up the first time.”
Now her mouth falls open in shock, but I don’t respond, letting her think about all of those scenarios until I see her again.
Picking her up, I carry her out the front door and to her car. “Even though you’re off the crutches, you still need to take it easy on the ankle,” I warn her.
“Yes, Dr. Matthews,” she replies with a grin before buckling her seatbelt and driving away. And then I have to go inside and take a cold shower to relieve the pressure from my cock that’s been steadily dripping for over two hours.
Chapter Eleven
Sam
“You’re forty minutes late,” my mom says from her recliner in the living room as soon as I walk through the front door.
Shit.
“Sorry, my phone died, and I lost track of time,” I lie quickly.
“Give it to me,” she replies, holding out her hand, palm up.
“What?” I ask in confusion.
“Let me have your phone. If you’re lying about it being dead, then I’m keeping it, and you’re grounded.”
“You can’t be serious!” I exclaim. “This is the first time I’ve ever been late.”
“I’m not grounding you for being late. I’m grounding you for lying to me.”
With a huff, I pull my phone from my purse and walk over to hand it over to her.
“For how long?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Your father’s already asleep, so I’ll have to talk to him in the morni
ng to see what he says.”
Dammit! How the heck am I supposed to see or talk to Grant now? If I don’t show up tomorrow, he’ll think I’ve chickened out, that I don’t want what he offered. I have to see him.
Then a bulletproof idea comes to me.
“Fine, but I have a physical therapy appointment tomorrow that I can’t miss,” I tell my mother as I stomp away as best I can with a bad ankle all the way to my bedroom.
Tomorrow morning I’ll call Grant from school and ask if I can come over early.
God, I really hope my mom’s not able to guess the passcode on my phone. If she does, and sees the messages from Grant, she’ll start asking questions about him. I don’t know what I would do if my parents found out and then told me to stop seeing him.
…
Monday morning, my pre-calculus teacher is at the front of the classroom talking about interval notations while all I can think about is…Grant.
Grant kissing me.
Grant’s fingers between my legs.
Grant’s…tongue between my legs.
Am I really gonna let him do that to me?
I want to, yes, but it seems so…naughty.
Last night, the way he touched me was naughty too, but it felt so good.
I’m nervous and a little freaked out, but letting him put his mouth on me down there seems like a necessary step to prove to him that, while I may be inexperienced, I’m ready for sex. With him.
I think.
Am I really ready?
Glancing around the classroom of my peers, I’m betting that more than half are no longer virgins. I’ve overheard most of them talking about their sexual experiences while sitting around the tables in the cafeteria, eating lunch with their friends. Not that any of them were speaking to me directly.
While I have a few casual friends on the track team, Hunter is really my only good friend. Either I’m an enormous bitch, or the girls in the school are jealous that the two of us are friends, because they all talk about me behind my back. Or in front of my face. Hunter has dated plenty of them, but only for a few days or nights, as the case may be, before he moves on to the next one. Even though he’s the one who doesn’t return calls and ends things with the girls, I somehow end up being the one they hate while they continue to stare and drool over him.
I’m not blind. Objectively, even I can see that Hunter is attractive in a big brute sort of way, especially when comparing him to the other guys in our school. And from what I hear the girls saying, he gets bonus points for being from a rich family and being the mayor’s son. But I’ve never been physically attracted to him and never will. He’s my best friend, and he just so happens to be a guy. The only guy who talked to me before I met Grant.
The boys in this town all act like I don’t exist. They don’t look at me, speak to me, and they sure as heck have never asked me out. That’s why I was so shocked when someone as hot as Grant actually noticed me. Not only noticed me but wanted to kiss me…everywhere.
“Sam? Sam!” Hunter calling my name pulls me from my thoughts, and I realize that our classroom is emptying out. He and I are the only ones left. “What’s with you?” he asks. “And where have you been going the last few nights? I know you haven’t been hanging out with friends like you told your parents.”
“Nothing’s going on,” I tell him when I stand up and pack up my bookbag. “I’m just bored since I can’t run.” He follows me silently down the hall to our lockers. That’s when I realize that, while Hunter may be a guy, he’s definitely experienced when it comes to sex, and he’s my best friend. There’s no one else to talk to about it, so…
“What do you know about, um, oral?” I ask him quietly.
“Excuse me?” he asks, abandoning his locker to lean in closer to me. “Did you…did Samantha Elliott just say oral?”
I nod while glancing around to make sure no one else is within earshot in the hallway.
“Oral sex?” he asks, causing my ears to burn with embarrassment.
I nod again.
“Why are you asking me about that shit, Sam?”
“Well, I assumed that you would…know about it. Do you…know?”
A sly smile stretches across his face. “Oh, I know about it all right.”
“Does everyone…do it? Is it, like, um, normal to do that before…” I ask, knowing I sound stupid but unable to help it. Besides, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. This is Hunter. He’s known me since I was six, so he also knows I’m a virgin.
“Is it normal?” he asks with both blond eyebrows raised.
“Ugh, forget it,” I huff, turning back to my locker to grab my history book and slam it shut.
“No, Sam. I just want to know why you’re asking about this stuff now all of a sudden,” Hunter says when he catches up to me as I’m heading down the hallway and out the door.
“Please forget I asked,” I tell him.
Hunter grabs my upper arm and pulls me to a stop off the edge of the sidewalk so that we’re out of the way of foot traffic.
“What do you want to know?” he asks, his brown eyes sincere without a trace of humor.
“I’m not sure,” I say on a heavy exhale.
“You want to know if it feels good? How to do it? What, Sam?”
“Yes, to both, I guess,” I admit, my ears threatening to fall off thanks to the burn currently singeing them.
“Fine,” Hunter says, then wets his lips as if in thought. “It feels good. Really good. Some would say it’s even better than sex.”
“Okay.” That makes sense I guess since sex, especially the first time, is likely to hurt. There’s nothing I can figure out about Grant’s tongue that would cause any pain, only pleasure.
“And, um, I can’t really explain how to do it. It’s more of a…learn by fire type of thing,” Hunter informs me.
“Oh.”
“You could always practice with me,” he teases with a grin.
“Not funny,” I tell him with a smack to his massive chest. “That would be like incest. And we need to go, or we’re gonna be late for class.”
I start in the direction of the history building, not really more informed than I was before our chat, but less hesitant to try it. I’m not sure what all it will entail, but I do know that during lunch I’ll call Grant to make plans, and this afternoon I’ll go home, shower and shave my legs. And then I’ll give him the green light, hoping he takes it.
Chapter Twelve
Sam
“And just where are you going looking like that?”
“Jeez, you scared me,” I say, nearly jumping clear off the floor when I hear my sister’s voice from my bedroom doorway. The house was empty when I got home, and I was hoping to leave before Stacy or my parents saw me.
“So? Who’s the hot date with?” Stacy persists, trying to get an answer from me since I never wear skirts and I never have dates.
“I’m just going to physical therapy,” I reply as nonchalantly as possible.
“Bullshit,” my sister remarks. “You’re going to see a boy.”
“No, really, I’m not going to see any boys,” I assure her since Grant doesn’t even begin to fall into the boy category. He’s a very sexy, grown-ass man with a doctorate.
“Hmm,” she mutters with a finger to her lip as she continues to stare at me. “You’re up to something. You’re showing a lot of leg, your hair is curled, and you’re wearing makeup. I didn’t even know you owned makeup. Did you borrow mine?”
“Maybe,” I admit since I actually did go through her stash. “You’re too young to be wearing it anyway,” I tell her.
“Well, even though I know you’re lying about seeing a guy, you look pretty. He’s gonna lose his shit when he sees you.”
“No, he’s not,” I mutter, unable to help my smile.
“I knew it!” my sister exclaims, which is when I finally realize my slip.
“Shit, Stacy, please, please don’t tell anyone, okay?” I go over to grab her shoulders and beg,
trying to explain how important this is to me. “If Mom or Dad find out, they’ll ask questions and want to meet him, and it would ruin everything!”
“Fine,” she huffs. “Your secret is safe with me. As long as it’s not Hunter. It’s not Hunter, is it?”
“What? Ew! No, it’s not Hunter,” I reply, going over to finish putting on the one pair of strapping heels I have from last Easter on. I’ll have to wear my ACE bandage with them instead of the brace, but I don’t think Dr. Matthews will mind this one little time.
“Good, because Hunter’s a slut, and I’m pretty sure I saw him stealing your panties the other day.”
“Oh, my God. That’s…gross and ridiculous,” I tell her with my nose wrinkled in disgust. “But, um, while we’re on the subject, I don’t want Hunter to find out I’m seeing someone either, okay?”
“My lips are sealed,” Stacy says, making a zipping motion across her lips. “Have fun, but not too much!”
“Thanks,” I tell her, my nerves coming back in full force now that it’s almost time to head over.
…
Grant
Not only did Sam show up, but she’s wearing a skirt, which is sexy, even with the ACE bandage wrapped around her left ankle. The skirt also tells me that she most likely wants me to go down on her and is giving me quick and easy access. Fuck if I can’t wait to be the first man to use his tongue on her.
“Hey,” I say when I open the door for Sam.
“Hey,” she replies, already blushing with just that one word as she steps inside the living room. The rosy glow on her cheeks makes her even more gorgeous, and I can’t resist pulling her to me and kissing her.
“Just so you know, I had to cancel on three patients so that I could get here by four,” I tell her as I move my lips down her jaw and to her neck. While I’m fairly certain the reason for her urgency, I still ask to make her say it, “So what’s with the early visit today?”
“I just…I couldn’t wait to see you, to try what you said you wanted to do,” she says shyly, which is exactly what I wanted to hear. “But I can’t stay long.”