by Abby Knox
“Look down, Delilah. Look at how beautiful your body is,” I say.
She winces. “Let’s not get carried away.”
“Just look,” I say.
Delilah half closes her eyelids and peeks down to where I’m petting and squeezing her. I can feel her tight nipples under my touch. She bites her bottom lip.
“Wow. This is really about to happen, isn’t it?”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“Hell no, I might come just like this.”
“Really?” I ask.
“No,” she replies. “I’ve only known one person who could come from nipple play and she had tiny boobs. Tiny boobs can mean more sensitivity.”
“Well, I would not know about that, but I do know you’re perfect,” I tell her.
“Paying me a compliment while kissing me and squeezing my boobs? Now that… That could definitely make me come,” she says.
When her face goes dark, I know she means it.
And then my nerves flag me down, reminding me that I’ve never satisfied a woman in bed before. And I know that every man who’s ever said to himself, “How hard can it be?” doesn’t understand the first thing about women’s bodies. Obviously, I am a man in the age of the internet. And no matter how strict my my pastoral code is regarding porn and masturbation, that’s just no way to live. I’ve known it for a while. So, I’ve studied up plenty.
Maintaining eye contact with Delilah, I brush my lips over the edge of her lace bra, my upper lip grazing the supple skin of her breast. I lift my eyes to meet her gaze, seeking permission to kiss her there.
Delilah responds by removing her bra. The sight of her bare breasts creates a reaction so strong I almost feel tears in my eyes. Dammit, where is that coming from? That’s all I need, to cry at the first sight of tits, live and in person. Meanwhile, my dick strains against the zipper of my jeans. It needs her. I need her.
“Boone.”
My gaze goes to her eyes, framed by winged eyeliner and eyebrow piercings. “Yeah?”
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m not used to getting what I want.”
“Me neither,” she breathes. “So take it. Take what you want from me. Take what they never wanted you to have, no strings attached.”
I feel like a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders. The yoke of guilt and shame I carry around with me for wanting a woman’s body riding my dick, for thinking about bending a woman over the furniture, is gone. It’s been growing for years. In the past few months, since taking this full time job at the church and being surrounded by flirtatious church women, my frustration was getting to the boiling point. I’d known that if one more elder tried to marry me off to his or her granddaughter or niece or best friend’s son’s teacher, I would have gone along with it just to soothe the ache and emptiness inside. Yeah, it would have been wrong to settle, and unfair to everyone involved. None of those others would come close to fulfilling the connection that I crave. Now, I don’t have to settle.
Something about Delilah makes me feel like I’ve finally found the right one, not just because I’m horny as hell, but because she’s a woman I want to spend time with. And she’s flat out wrong thinking that this thing between us has no strings attached. I’m not down for a one-time thing with her. I know that after today, I’ll still want more. More of her body, more of her sassy mouth. More of everything.
I sweep her up in my arms. “Bed?”
A surprised Delilah circles her arms around my neck and I follow the direction of her nod. I look over, but all I see is a bathroom door at the far end and an open kitchen, if you can call it that.
“Where?” I ask, confused.
“Inside the cabinet, over there.” She gestures to the far wall where I see a large wardrobe. “Put me down and I’ll show you.”
“No can do,” I reply, ignoring her request. No way am I putting her down now just because her bed is inside a cabinet in the wall. Minor glitch—that’s all this is.
I adjust Delilah in my arms so I can toss her over my shoulder. She lets out a sexy shriek and a giggle. I use my free hand to open up the doors and pull the bed down out of the wall cabinet. The bed’s legs land on the floor with a flimsy, noisy slap. A patchwork quilt covers the mattress. It looks handmade and I know right away that Ms. Louise, her grandmother, made that quilt for her. She and her quilting bee members are legendary.
Stop thinking about old ladies making quilts, dumbass. On second thought, don’t. It might keep you from nutting too quickly like the eager virgin you are.
I feel Delilah tremble in my arms. Gently, I set her down on the bed. Our eyes meet and I realize she’s still laughing, her eyes dancing. “You’re staring at my quilt and thinking about my Oma, aren’t you?”
“No. Yes.”
She covers her mouth and snorts a laugh. “It’s OK. Just so you know, my Oma has been trying to get me to go to church for years. Now I can see why.”
Her hand traces down the front of my shirt, sending sparks skimming across the surface of my chest. My mouth goes dry at an inopportune moment because I want to kiss her again. She beats me to it by sliding her mouth across my neck, making my mouth water. All thoughts of grandmothers are forgotten. I grit my teeth at the feel of her soft lips and her tongue on my flesh. Her mouth on me, her closeness, her scent—they all push me deeper into my arousal. I have to take control of the situation or I might explode in my jeans.
As I lay her down on the bed in the midst of our kissing, the gentle bobbing of her pale breasts tugs at my feelings. She looks so vulnerable, I just want to wrap my strong arms tight around her, protect her from the outside world.
The old bed springs complain when I climb up to hover over her. This is really happening, says my racing mind as I suckle and nuzzle her taut nipples. I’m lost in them until I feel Delilah grind against me.
“Please. I’m ready,” she says.
I cage her in with my arms and knees on either side of her body and study her face. Something anxious haunts her eyes. Along with her lust, her need, her come hither stare, there’s also something innocent.
“We can press pause if you’re not ready.”
Shaking her head, she says, “Same to you, if you want to stop and get out of here.”
I pull back to study her. “What would make you think I’d ditch you now?”
She looks up at me, her lower lip trapped inside her mouth again. When her teeth let go of her lip, I grab it with mine. The sweet sound of her sighs make me feel lightheaded while I gently nibble on her bottom lip. All the blood has left my brain and gone straight to my straining cock.
I cup her face with my hands and meet her gaze. “We’ll just have to go real…real…slow.” I pepper my words with wet, sloppy kisses across her face, on her eyebrow ring, and down her neck, stopping between her breasts.
I come up on my knees and slip my shirt off over my head. That’s when her beautiful blue eyes go wide—so wide, my hand pauses at my belt buckle.
“Baby. What’s wrong?”
Chapter Four
Delilah
“Abso-fucking-lutely nothing,” I breathe, my eyes sliding down his wide chest, admiring his definition. He has pecs and washboard abs I could run my hands all over all day long. Boone’s self-conscious expression is sweet, almost little boyish.
“Please, tell me what you’re thinking,” he murmurs.
The word “please” sounds strange coming from that hard but sensuous mouth. The contradiction flips some kind of switch. It makes the walls of my sex clench down hard against something that isn’t there. My breath shallows.
“Uhm,” I say, trying to control the trembling in my voice. “You’re just the prettiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
The smirk on his lips and the glint in his eye have me rubbing my legs together. It’s about time to get these shorts off. “Pretty is not a word I would hope to hear a woman use to describe me as we’re about to fuck for the first time, but honey, whatever you wan
t to call me, go right ahead.”
My voice takes on an unexpectedly husky tone. “Boone. If you keep saying ‘please’ and calling me ‘honey,’ we’re not going to need to take it slow.”
The rise and fall of Boone’s chest speeds up as I talk. He’s so ready it radiates off him.
“Do you…” I say, hesitating only because I have to swallow to remedy the dry mouth happening as a result of every drop of moisture in my body being redirected to my pussy. “Do you want to take off the rest of my clothes or do you want me to do it?” I feel so silly asking him, but that’s on me.
He looks just as unsure as I do. “Let’s both take off our pants and…underthings…at the same time.”
Oh god. He’s so awkward and so cute. He’s also so damn hot, I can’t believe he’s not done this before. But his sweetness and shyness in the bedroom works magic on my lady bits like nothing else.
I hope he thinks my awkwardness is just as endearing when I blurt out, “OK, on the count of three, let’s do it.”
Boone smiles and stands up from the bed and takes my hand in his to help me stand up as well to face him. It’s totally unnecessary for him to offer his hand, as I can stand up on my own, but so sweet and so natural coming from him.
By the time I count down from three, we’re both laughing. We remove the rest of our clothing, and the laughing subsides when we’re both completely naked to each other.
“Lie down and let me look at all of you.” It sounds more like a request than a demand, with the way his breath hitches. He’s saying please with his eyes.
I do as he says, my body not waiting to get a message from my brain. If I was worried I would feel exposed, I needn’t have been. Propped up on one elbow like I’m modeling for a sketch artist, my skin warms under Boone’s heated, worshipful gaze. The heat at my core radiates at the sight of the bare, sinewy god in front of me. I carefully focus on his arms and chest, not quite ready to look at the boner that’s calling my name. So many lovely edges to grab on to. So much power. My hands want to touch all of it. My mouth wants to taste all of it.
Boone’s low rumble from somewhere deep inside drown out all my stray thoughts. His eyes travel over my legs, my hips, the flesh at my center. My feet are crossed self-consciously and I blush. I stare down at the tattoos on my thighs, concentrating on a laughing skull with a rose between its teeth.
“It’s OK to look at it, Delilah,” he murmurs.
I look up and take in the view of Boone’s long, thick and throbbing cock, and it is just…wow. In a word: ready.
My lips part and I nearly forget to breathe.
I rise to my knees. “Can I touch it? I’ve never—”
“Yes,” he interjects. “Fuck yes. Please touch it.”
I reach my hand out but then stop. “Come down on the bed with me.”
First, he opens the box of condoms and takes one out. I take hold of him as he lies down next to me.
I swallow the saliva that has built up in my mouth. I try to control the inner squeals. I’m holding his dick for the first time. I am woman handling the big, hard, beautiful dick of the world’s most impossibly beautiful virgin, a dick that’s hard because of me. And also possibly because of more than a decade of sexual repression, but still.
I notice a pearly bead of precum staring back at me. Without conscious thought, I lick my lips. “Can I…”
Boone’s exhale rattles out of him. “Who the fuck would say no to that?”
He lies back. Crawling in between his knees, I place my hands on his lovely chiseled hip bones, then trace my fingers along the V line that’s so cut, it’s indecent. I’ve never done anything like this before, never wanted to taste a man’s cock between my lips, but I want it now. So bad.
My hands angle his member toward my mouth, and I slide my lips over the tip so I can very gently lick off the pearlescent moisture. While I do so, I flick my gaze upward and see Boone’s eyes roll back in his head.
“Fuuuuck,” he breathes, his chest heaving up and down.
I let the tip pop out of my mouth but keep hold of it in my hands. “Did I do it wrong?”
Boone’s jaw clenches so tight I can see the lines of almost every muscle in his face. “Naw, baby. That feels amazing. But you need to cut that out before I come all over your face.”
My hands let go of his cock and it slaps back against his abdomen. I help him roll the condom on, and while I do it I can’t stop my sassy mouth. “That’ll cost extra,” I joke.
His brow furrows for a second before he bursts out laughing again. The powerful need to be touching every inch of this man’s skin takes hold.
As if reading my mind, Boone adjusts our bodies so he’s on top of me, slowly pressing down. My legs open up to welcome the pressure, wrapping around him to draw him in closer.
He sweetly cups the side of my head and my face with one big hand in a way that makes me feel I’m floating yet grounded at the same time. Boone’s other hand caresses my breast while his mouth firmly suckles the nipple of my other breast. The breast worship overwhelms me but I don’t want it to stop. I close my eyes and feel all of it. The weight of him, the tender movements of his fingers, the wetness of his mouth, his hard length pressed against my center.
The sensation of his cock spikes my blood pressure and slicks my pussy for him. My hips move under him, trying to help him find the right position to put it in me. The friction I’m causing makes Boone hiss. He loses focus on my breasts and plunges his tongue into my mouth.
“I’m ready. I want you inside me, Boone,” I offer when he comes away from the kiss to stare down into my eyes.
He breathes into my ear. “Almost time, baby.”
His hand comes away from cradling my head to prop himself up on one elbow to lift his weight off me. His other hand sweeps down my body, cupping my mound for the first time. I gasp in surprised delight, even though I knew it was coming.
“All right?” he asks.
I nod and smile, not quite sure what to do with my hands. They only know to reach for him and bring him in close.
Boone’s big hand smooths over my mound, caressing me there like a pet. I press into his touch and he growls. His fingers swipe back and forth across my sensitive folds, making my head spin and my sex drip with need. Soon the petting deepens and his fingers root between my pussy lips. Exploring, caressing, drawing circles around the muscles of my cunt.
My entire body tightens and loosens at his touch.
“Tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop,” he whispers into my ear. His breath sends shivers down my spine.
“Keep going.”
“I’m going to massage your clit now. I might need help finding it,” he says.
I’m so happy, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “I got you covered.”
My hand guides his fingers, but it’s almost not necessary. He finds it easily, it’s so needy and throbbing, just waiting for him. Nobody has ever touched me like this before and it has my thighs shaking almost immediately. I close my eyes and feel a tightening in my belly. I’m getting closer to coming from the sorcery of his hands.
“Relax,” he whispers into my neck. But how can I? My arousal is so bound up in my nervousness, I don’t know how.
I feel the tip of his nose touch mine. “Eyes on me. Breathe with me.”
I do as he says, and I can hardly take the expression on his face of pure tenderness, desire, gratitude, and care all mixed together. He looks like an angel, if I ever believed in angels. But not in a benign, asexual, otherworldly way. Boone would be more like the fierce, warrior kind of angel they wrote about in those weird, apocalyptic books that Oma once tried to get me to read.
Well, I don’t need to wonder about celestial beings now; I have one in my bed. He’s real, flesh and blood, and wonderful. If I never see him again after this, it won’t matter. Because his face, his body, his words, the touch of his hands, the feel of his protective arms, will forever be branded in my memory.
My inner voice, t
hough, is not having it with my no-strings-attached escape hatch. But won’t it matter? You don’t really believe this is a one-time thing, do you?
This intense closeness, coupled with the repetitive nudging of my clit, pushes me over the edge. The thrill is so acute I’m in free fall above the clouds. Instinctively my hand reaches back to grip Boone’s hair. He’s my parachute, landing me safe, tethering me in his strong arms as I cry out in a fit of pulsating bliss.
When I come back to earth, I’m greeted by his kisses all over my face and neck. My leg spread wider while Boone guides his cock toward my opening. I watch as he rubs my juices, which still cover his hand, all over his cock.
“Wow,” I say.
He smirks sexily and licks his lips.
I pull Boone down for another kiss because I can hardly take not feeling him against my lips, my face, in my arms. By the time he slips the tip inside, I’ve already fallen hard for this big lug.
Chapter Five
Boone
My gaze locks on to Delilah’s face as I slip into her slowly.
“Delilah,” I whisper. “You’re so tight. So fucking tight. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She cups my face. “Then kiss me some more. Just kiss me.”
“I don’t ever want to stop kissing you. When we’re still together a year, ten years from now, I’m still gonna kiss you like this.” Her eyes flash when I say that. I don’t know if it’s because she feels the same connection I’m feeling or if I scared her with my words.
It’s just that our mouths fit together so nicely, it makes me forget all my insecurities about my feelings and my inexperience. She make me feel confident and strong and absolutely sure of what I want.
She moans into my mouth. “Keep going. It feels good. I need you, Boone. Keep going.”
I push in farther. Shit, she’s so wet but so tight and warm. My cock is twitching like a son of a bitch. It knows what it wants and it can’t wait to get there.