by I. T. Lucas
“Sh… it’s okay.” He ran his palm over her thigh. “Don’t be scared, I’m only going to bring you pleasure.”
“I know, it was just a reflex. I couldn’t help it.” She tried to part her trembling legs, but they seemed to resist. “Shit, why am I such a coward? I want this, I want you, and still…it’s so hard to just let it happen.”
Taking a deep breath, Nathalie closed her eyes and parted her legs. Blindly, she reached for his hand. “Don’t stop.”
Such a brave girl, and he wasn’t making it easy for her.
She was completely bare before him, while he was still wearing a blazer and a tie—his eyes roving over her magnificent body and his hands touching her in a most intimate way.
But he couldn’t help himself either. There was something very satisfying in this disparity, a sense of ownership that had nothing to do with reality. And as much as his rational mind detested the idea of Nathalie still being a virgin, of all the years of pleasure she’d lost, some primitive side of him was very happy about being her first.
And if he had any say in it, her last.
Chapter 41: Nathalie
Sex was amazing, terrifying, exhilarating.
And they hadn’t even done anything monumental yet.
Nathalie was discovering things about herself that were shockingly surprising. Like that she wasn’t at all shy about her nudity. In fact, Andrew baring her one piece of clothing at a time had turned her on, especially since he was doing it while still wearing his tie and jacket.
Hot, hot, hot.
She loved his eyes on her, loved the passion in them, the smoldering desire. A girl couldn’t help but feel beautiful when a guy like Andrew gazed at her nude body with such hunger.
Over her initial shock of feeling his fingers explore her wet heat, Nathalie wanted more; more of Andrew’s hands, more of his mouth, more of his lips, more of his tongue. She wanted more of everything even though the emotional and physical storm bombarding her senses was so exhausting that she was afraid she wouldn’t last under the onslaught.
She was on fire for him, so turned on that she felt like she could climax just from his gentle fingers caressing her folds. And if he thrust a finger inside her, she would for sure combust on the spot.
When he removed his hand, she barely stopped herself from grabbing it and returning it to where she wanted it.
But then, he got up and began stripping.
Finally, she was going to see him naked. Every time she’d felt his hard, muscular body—under her hands as she caressed his back and his chest, and against her breasts, as she pressed herself against him—she’d been imagining him naked. He was going to be magnificent.
First, he removed his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair, then his tie. His shirt was next. She loved watching him open the cuff buttons and roll the sleeves up, revealing his muscular forearms, which were covered in a smattering of dark hair. But, this time, there was no need for it, and after taking care of the cuffs he moved on to the buttons on the front of his shirt, popping each one slowly and revealing his muscular chest a little at a time.
Nathalie held her breath, waiting for the moment when he would part the two halves. But Andrew just left the shirt hanging open as he kicked off his loafers, unbuckled his belt, pulled the zipper down, and stepped out of his slacks.
She managed to get a good look at his strong thighs before he turned around and sat on the bed to remove his socks.
With the shirt still on.
Nathalie frowned as a chilling thought crossed her mind. Was Andrew embarrassed to show his chest or his back? Perhaps the scars on his face were just a small sample, and there were many more? Was he disfigured?
Not that she would find him any less sexy if he was scarred, but it pained her that he felt the need to hide it from her.
With the socks off, he lifted a little to pull down his boxer shorts, and at last shrugged the shirt off of his shoulders.
As she’d expected, his back was peppered with scars, old bullet holes that had healed long time ago, but it was also heavily muscled and perfectly proportioned. Andrew was even more of a hunk without clothes than he was with them—which was saying a lot since he usually wore a professional attire that tended to enhance the looks of most men, hiding their bellies while adding width to their shoulders. But in Andrew’s case, it had been hiding not flaws but sheer masculine beauty.
Then he turned around.
Oh. My. God. His shaft was huge, and dark, and it was pointing at her.
Nathalie had no idea whether Andrew was particularly endowed or whether this was what most men sprouted between their legs when aroused, but in either case, she knew it wasn’t going to fit. If a tampon had given her trouble, this thing was going to split her in half.
Involuntarily, a hand flew to her mouth, and she scrambled back against the headboard.
Andrew’s expression turned from puzzled to embarrassed as he glanced down at the piece of his anatomy that was scaring the hell out of her.
“I should’ve left the boxers on, shouldn’t I?”
She nodded. Maybe if he’d turned the light off and she didn’t see it…
She cleared her throat. ”I’m sorry, I must seem to you like some country bumpkin. It’s just that you’re so big… Are you? Big, I mean? I wouldn’t know.”
Could this be any more embarrassing?
Andrew chuckled. “I’m probably average, but no one complained one way or another, yet.” He crawled on the bed and lay sideways to face her. “Go on, touch him. It will be less scary if you get to feel him.”
Tentatively she reached with an extended finger, touching it lightly. “Don’t you dare laugh at me,” she said, feeling Andrew’s big body shake with stifled chuckles. “It’s not funny.”
“No, I guess it’s not,” he choked out. “He’s not going to jump and bite your hand, you know.”
Oh for heaven’s sake, stop being such a big coward. She rolled her eyes at herself and reached her shaking hand forward. Andrew’s abdominals clenched in anticipation, his impressive six pack getting more defined. He groaned as her hand closed around his shaft which jerked as if excited to be touched.
Well, of course it is, you idiot.
Hm, he felt kind of nice. Firm yet soft, and velvety smooth, except for the big vein running under it. Curiosity won, and she leaned closer and took a sniff. Andrew’s scent was even stronger there. Very nice.
In response, he inhaled sharply, and his erection pulsed in her hand, a bead of moisture arising on the broad head.
How fascinating…
She rubbed the pad of her thumb over it, spreading the viscous drop around the mushroom head.
His hand reached for her head, stroking her hair. “Well? What do you think? Not as scary anymore?” His voice was husky, strangled.
Nathalie looked up into his hooded eyes, so full of passion, of need, and felt herself grow wet between her legs. Her lips parted, and he dipped his head to kiss her, gently, even though he must’ve been starving for more—such an incredible guy, giving her all the time she needed and not pressuring her at all.
“No, not scary at all. Kind of nice, actually. But I still don’t think it’s going to fit. In fact, I know it won’t.”
“We are going to try, and if he doesn’t fit we are not going to force it. I told you, one little step at a time, there is nothing to fear. But I have a question.”
He looked so serious that she was afraid of what he was going to ask. Though come to think of it, she had no more secrets to hide.
And wasn’t that a terrific feeling? She felt at least fifty pounds lighter. “Yes?”
His eyes were smiling, the feathery wrinkles around them fanning out. “Are you going to keep calling him, it?”
Nathalie giggled. “What would you like me to call him? Little Andrew?”
He made a face. “I don’t like the word little associated with my manhood.”
She laughed. Even without having anything to compare i
t with, she was sure there was nothing little about Andrew. “Okay, how about Big Andrew?”
He shrugged. “That could work, but how about just cock? Or if you’re not comfortable with that, there is dick, shaft, erection, manhood, Johnson, woody, Mr. Happy, Mr. Big, and numerous others—plenty to choose from.”
She kind of liked Mr. Happy, but doubted Andrew would. The most common one was cock, and the least explicit one was shaft.
“I can try…” Shit, even this was difficult.
“Come on, go for it, say cock, be naughty,” he encouraged.
It was just a word, one everyone was using, shouldn’t be a big deal. “Cock,” she blurted in a hurry. “Here, I said it, are you happy?”
“Yes, come here.” He drew her closer to him.
“I’m really not comfortable with this word. How about shaft? Or Mr. Happy?” she tacked on.
Andrew chuckled. “Other than Little Andrew I’m fine with whatever.”
Chapter 42: Andrew
When he’d taken off his shirt, Andrew had been worried about Nathalie’s response to his scarred body, but he hadn’t been prepared for her reaction to his cock.
He wasn’t that big.
It would’ve been funny if Nathalie were a young girl—a disturbing thought since it would have made him a pedophile. Andrew doubted many girls reached the legal age of consent with their virginity intact.
Sixteen was probably the average age when most did away with the impediment. But not everyone. Some were left on the sidelines, getting in the game much later, and some never.
The good thing was that Nathalie seemed to have gotten over her initial hesitancy, as evident by her hand on his shaft. In fact, she seemed reluctant to let go, pressing her perky breasts against his chest and gyrating her ample hips while stroking his manhood and spreading around the drops of pre-cum gathering at its tip.
At this rate, he’d be coming in her soft little palm in no time. Not that it was necessarily a bad plan. Nathalie could take care of him with her hand, and he’d reciprocate with his fingers and his tongue, bringing her to a climax with no pain involved.
Problem solved.
Trouble was, he was pretty sure Nathalie wanted to change her virgin status as soon as possible. She seemed embarrassed by it. And anyway, it had to be done, if not tonight then the next time. Either way, it was going to be painful for her.
He closed his hand over hers and halted her up and down strokes.
She lifted a pair of worried eyes at him. “Am I doing it wrong?”
“No, sweetheart, you’re doing it perfectly—too good.”
“Oh…” she smiled as understanding dawned.
Andrew gave Nathalie’s shoulders a little push, helping her to her back. “It’s my turn to pleasure you.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing. You just lie there and focus on how it feels. I’ll do the rest.” He palmed one breast and kneaded, then began thumbing the nipple.
“Okay…” she breathed but seemed hesitant.
“Do you trust me?” He tugged on her stiffened peak.
“Yes.” It came out as a whimper.
“Good girl.” He leaned and fastened his lips around it, sucking it in and licking all around.
Her back arched, and she stretched her arms above her head, bringing more of her breast into his mouth. He rewarded her with a hand on her other breast, kneading, plucking, in sync with what he was doing with his mouth.
Nathalie’s hips were restless on the mattress, going up and down and side to side, and he knew she was wet and aching to be touched. Exactly the way he wanted her to be.
Hungry for him.
Releasing her breast, he trailed his hand over her soft belly down to her needy center, slowly, teasing her.
She mewled, then bit her lower lip, trying to stifle the sounds coming out of her throat.
“Don’t,” he commanded. “I want your moans and your whimpers and your gasps. Don’t hold anything back. Don’t hide from me.”
Nathalie nodded, her lip still caught between her teeth.
He lifted his hand away from where she wanted it, bringing it to her mouth, and tugged on her lip. “Let it go.”
“Sorry.”
Andrew chuckled softly. Nathalie was so desperate for his touch that she would’ve obeyed any command. Which got him thinking…
Nah, not tonight.
But some day, when she was no longer such a newbie, definitely.
He repeated the journey down her body, all along keeping his eyes on her face. She was panting, her breasts rising and falling so enticingly that he took one into his mouth as his finger reached her wet folds.
“Oh, God…” she exclaimed when he gathered her moisture and pressed his thumb to her clit, her legs falling apart of their own volition.
Nathalie was drenched and more than ready to accept his finger.
At first, he just circled her opening, keeping his thumb gently pressed to her clit. She lifted her butt in a not so subtle effort to get him to push inside her.
Sweet Nathalie, wanton, greedy, needy. It was exactly the way he wanted her. He pushed his finger inside her wet, hot sheath, just up to the first knuckle.
Her breaths were coming out in rapid puffs, and again, she wiggled her sexy ass, trying to get more of it.
“You want more, baby? You want my finger all the way inside you?”
“Yes, oh, God, yes…”
Andrew pushed as far as he could go—his thumb over her clit and his finger buried deep inside her spasming sheath.
She was going to come, and the only reason she was still hanging by a thread was that he wasn’t moving his finger inside her, denying her the friction that would send her over the edge.
“Do you want to come, sweetheart?” he whispered in her ear, then licked into it.
Nathalie moaned and arched her back. “Yes, please, I’m on fire…”
One, two, three… and takeoff…
Three strokes, was all it took for Nathalie to explode, her cries loud enough to alert the neighbors.
Who cares, let them call the police…
Just from watching her come, he’d almost climaxed himself. His virgin hadn’t held back, she’d taken all that he’d given her with blissful abandon and without reservation.
Magnificent. Brave. Sexy.
When her quaking subsided, he cupped her between her legs.
This is mine, he said—on the inside.
On the outside, he leaned and kissed her gently, first her lips, then her closed lids. “You’re amazing.”
She opened her eyes. “Me? I haven’t done anything. You’re the one who’s amazing. This was just…wow…”
“I’m not done yet.”
She blushed. “I know, you haven’t had your release yet.”
“We’ll worry about me later. I’m not done pleasuring you.”
Instinctively, she closed her legs, trapping his hand. “There is more?”
“Much more.”
“I don’t think I can. Not right away.”
He rolled on top of her, his shaft nudging her wet entrance. He shuddered with need. She stiffened.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to push inside you.” He kissed her neck then trailed his lips down to her breast.
“What if I want you to?” she husked as he swirled his tongue around her nipple.
“Patience, darling. All in good time.” Andrew slid further down her body, kissing her sternum, her abdomen, and then the top of her mound.
“What are you doing?”
Chapter 43: Nathalie
Andrew lifted his head and smiled. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
She’d read about it, of course. One of her favorite sci-fi romance series was all about hot aliens who loved nothing better than to go down on a woman. It had provided her with plenty of material for naughty fantasies and self-pleasuring.
She’d been yearning to experience this for so long, but now that Andrew was
about to turn her fantasy into reality, she was a little apprehensive.
What if he didn’t like how she tasted or smelled?
On the other hand, he knew what he was doing and must’ve done this plenty of times before. Chances were that she didn’t taste or smell differently than the other women he’d pleasured.
Shit, thinking about Andrew with others made her angry. He was hers, whether he knew it or not.
“Do you like doing it?” she asked, hoping his answer would be the same as the aliens’ in her books—that he not only loved it, but needed it, couldn’t live without it…
“Of course, I do. There is nothing that turns me on more than bringing you pleasure and hearing you moan and scream my name as you climax. I love it. Now spread your beautiful legs and let me in.” He applied light pressure to her knees, urging her to open for him.
This was good, not the exact same words as in her alien novels, but close enough.
Laying back on the pillows, Nathalie closed her eyes and lay back. She let her legs fall to the sides. It was so wanton and oh so naughty. But it was okay, she trusted Andrew.
“That’s my girl.” He slid even further down and pressed a kiss to her nether lips.
Anticipating his next move, she flooded with wetness.
Using his thumbs, he spread her wide, opening her to his eyes, his tongue. Nathalie fought the urge to clamp her knees back together and deny him access. It was too much, too soon, and yet she didn’t want him to stop. She wanted this, had dreamed about it for years, and she wasn’t going to chicken out. Not now, not when she was finally about to experience what was sure to be the best orgasm of her life.
“Oh…” she cried out and torqued when his tongue made contact with her wet center.
He lapped at her gently at first, just a few soft up and down swipes, then took her by surprise as he penetrated her with his tongue, thrusting in and out forcefully.
She bit her lip, trying to still her restless gyrations.
Andrew did it for her, clamping her hips as he delved deeper, fucking her with his tongue. When he withdrew and licked her throbbing clit, her head thrashed, and she heard herself mewl.