Cherry Popper

by Victoria Quinn

  This pussy did crazy things to me.

  I started to move quicker and harder, making sure my body ground against her clit as I fucked her pussy the way I wanted. The first time for a woman was always difficult, but it was even more difficult with a man like me. I wanted to be gentle, but it felt too good to slow down. I wanted to make her come, but my dick might be a little too big for that.

  I angled my neck down and kissed her as I continued to move inside her, tasting the salt of her tears on my tongue. My cock thickened and was on the verge of exploding. When I pictured all my come dripping out of her, it only made me want to come even more. My lips kept moving with hers, but when the sex was good, I easily lost my concentration.

  I tilted my body farther and ground against her harder, doing my best to bring her to climax. If the pleasure became powerful, then it would mask the pain, and judging by the tears, she definitely had pain.

  My kiss and the stimulation must have been enough to push her over the edge because her thighs squeezed me hard, exerting the kind of pressure only a python could reproduce. Her breath stopped in her lungs then she bucked uncontrollably, falling into an orgasm that made her scream in my face. The tears that stuck to her cheeks reflected the light of the candles, and her face had never looked more beautiful. In the midst of a screaming orgasm while trying to fight the pain, she was so sexy.

  I could feel her tightness increase around my dick, feel the liquid arousal flood around my throbbing cock. A woman’s pleasure was my fantasy, and making her come during her first time made me feel like a man. I paid for her virginity, but I wanted her to enjoy it too. I wanted her to have the best sex of her life—in the midst of the pain. I wanted her to compare every other man to me, to set her expectations high.

  She breathed against my mouth as she finished. Her bucks slowly stopped, and her nails retracted from deep inside my skin. Once the climax passed, her pussy loosened. She took my dick a little easier, especially with all the moisture that flooded her channel.

  I did my duty and made her come, so now it was my turn. But I still didn’t want to release. I wanted to enjoy this as long as I could, to live in this moment forever. I could only pop a woman’s cherry once. When this was over, Monroe wouldn’t be a part of my life anymore. The thought made me sad, so I kept going, wanting to stretch this out as long as possible. I could make her come again, make her legs shake for me.

  So that’s what I did.

  Now that she was looser, I fucked her harder than before, getting my dick deeper inside her. I didn’t need to apply more lube because she was wet enough. But the longer I fucked her, the more I wanted to come.

  Thankfully, she came again, a little weaker than last time, but still enough to soak my dick again.

  Fuck, I couldn’t keep it together now.

  Her tears stopped now that she was used to it, now that my big dick had successfully stretched her wide apart. Her fingers dug into my hair, and she brought me close to her lips. “Come inside me…” She held my gaze with her lips slightly parted, looking like the sexiest woman who had ever said those words to me.

  I was already on the verge of exploding, so those words gave me the push I didn’t need. I’d spent most of my time with this woman, kissing her and touching her. Now I’d finally claimed her—and she was worth the wait. Now the explosive moment was about to happen. I was going to stuff her with my come and fill her completely.

  After a few thrusts, I released, dropping everything I had with an aggressive grunt. The sensation started in my balls then quickly exploded up my shaft. It reached my tip then gave me the greatest sensation of pleasure I’d ever felt. I had to close my eyes because it felt so good. Another moan escaped my lips, and it was so guttural I hardly recognized my own voice. I shoved myself deep inside her because I wanted her to capture every drop, to feel my essence deep within her. My ass tightened as I finished, and the clouds of pleasure slowly faded away. I opened my eyes and looked at her, looked at the woman I’d conquered.

  I bent my head down and kissed her, gave her a tender embrace I never gave anyone else. My hand moved into her hair, and I stayed between her legs as I treasured her, silently apologizing for the aggressive way I took her.

  I slowly pulled out of her, careful not to spill any of my seed, and then I lay beside her. The only lights in the room were the candles, so we lay on the rose petals while the wax slowly dripped. The city was visible outside the windows, and the bedroom was quiet with the exception of our deep breathing.

  She moved close to me and hooked her arm around my waist, resting her face on my chest.

  I was hot and sweaty, but I didn’t push her away. I let her cuddle into me when no one else had that right. Normally, I would hop in the shower the second sex was finished, then leave the room, but I stayed by her side because there was nowhere for me to go.

  I was too tired anyway.

  I felt like a boulder fell on my body and crushed me into the floor. She knocked the wind out of me, made me breathless. With the others, I went about my day and continued like nothing happened. But with Monroe, I felt so weak that I couldn’t move.

  That I could just stay there forever.

  18

  Monroe

  WHEN I WOKE up the next morning, I was on his chest, sleeping like a cat trying to stay warm. His chest rose and fell slowly, practically lulling me back to sleep even though it was late in the morning.

  I opened my eyes and looked across his bedroom, remembering everything that happened last night. I gave myself to him without reservation, my legs wide open so I could take all of him, his length and his girth. I cried because of the pain, cried because of the way he stretched me. It was a sensation I never could have anticipated. Sex was supposed to be the greatest sensation in the world, but my first time was a challenge.

  It took a long time before it started to feel good, and even when it did, it still hurt the entire way through.

  But it aroused Slate, watching me struggle to take his big dick. His eyes had a look of desire he’d never displayed before. His jaw tightened, and the sweat slicked across his chest with a sexy gleam. He tried to be gentle with me, but his body had other plans. His cock wanted more of me, couldn’t help but hit me deep and hard.

  That turned me on, watching that beautiful man enjoy me so much.

  They said the first time would hurt no matter what, but I suspected it hurt more because Slate was so large. Would I have wanted him to be smaller? Probably not. I would just have to get used to him.

  He stirred underneath me, opening his eyes and taking in the morning light. As if I was featherlight, he didn’t notice I was on his chest until he started to move. He turned his face to mine and looked at me. “Morning.”

  “Morning.” I leaned down and kissed him.

  He kissed me back before he rolled me onto my back. “How’s your girl? Sore?”

  “A little.”

  He moved his head under the sheets and planted a soft kiss at my entrance.

  I tensed at the contact, my eyes closing when I felt the softness of his lips against mine.

  His head reemerged, and he looked down at me, a shadow of a beard growing along his jawline. “It’ll feel better in a few days.”

  Not if he fucked me sooner than that.

  “I need to take a shower and get to work.” He left the bed and walked into the bathroom, his bare ass muscular and sexy. He rounded the corner and disappeared.

  Once he was out of the room, I suddenly felt cold inside. I expected him to take me again before he started his day. I expected some kind of playful banter back and forth. It was the first time I’d slept over, and now I didn’t want to leave this big bed. It was so comfortable, so warm.

  I got out of bed and put on my clothes and looked at the time. I didn’t realize how late it was, and unless I left right this minute and headed to my apartment to change, I would never make it before I was officially late for work.

  I went into the bathroom and raised my voice
over the falling water. “I’ve got to head to work. Otherwise, I’m going to be late.” The steam rose from his large walk-in shower, and inside stood a muscular, naked man, rubbing soap across his beautiful skin.

  “Alright.” He rubbed the bar of soap across his chest then down his arms. “Bye, Monroe.”

  I didn’t like the way he said bye. It was a word I’d never heard him explicitly use before. And he usually called me sweetheart to top it off. “Bye…”

  THE FIRST FEW days were filled with bliss. Losing my virginity was a memory I would treasure forever, because it was with a man I adored. He had a kind heart that was hidden inside a rough exterior. Sometimes he was standoffish and unbearable, but underneath that ruggedness was always a man with good intentions.

  He was my friend—my best friend.

  But the days passed, and he never called.

  He didn’t text either.

  He’d told me once the deed had been done, he would be gone. The second he popped my cherry, his obsession would disappear. I believed him in the beginning, but then I started to doubt his sincerity when he said he’d been celibate for this last month. He spent most of his free time with me, cooking me dinner and taking me out to fancy places. We began to have a real connection, and I believed he would want me more once he had me—but that didn’t seem to be the case.

  There had been lots of times when we hadn’t spoken to each other for days on end. He got busy and I got busy. It was nothing to panic about. But when I didn’t hear from him, the self-doubt started to rip me apart.

  Had he forgotten me already?

  Was I just another notch in his belt?

  He’d told me this was nothing but a transaction, but I struggled to believe that. It felt like something more, from my end as well as his.

  Or had I been wrong?

  When a week passed, I stopped caring about the higher balance in my bank account. My life had become significantly easier, even with the burden of my mother’s medical bill, but I was too sad to appreciate it.

  Now I thought about the man who had disappeared.

  The one who made me laugh, smile, and happy.

  Had he forgotten about me already?

  His prolonged silence should have been an affirmation that he wasn’t interested in seeing me anymore, but I didn’t want to believe that. I wanted to believe there was more here, that we really had something. My attachment wasn’t just because he was my first. It was much deeper than that.

  I decided to call him from my couch in the living room.

  It rang and rang…and rang.

  Then went to voice mail.

  I’d never heard his voice mail before.

  I hung up without leaving a message and set the phone beside me, my stomach tied in knots like someone had just kicked me. I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my fingertips over my lips, reeling from the cold rejection. I sat in my apartment alone as I stared at the phone, offended he didn’t even have the courtesy to take my call. He got what he wanted, and now he wanted nothing to do with me.

  I knew I shouldn’t be angry, not when he warned me this would happen.

  But I was.

  I was angry because I refused to believe this was what he really wanted. He’d never chased a woman as hard as he chased me. A single night was all he needed to be satisfied? I wasn’t satisfied at all.

  I wanted to call him again, but I refused to appear so clingy.

  And if he didn’t call me back…then my first impression of him was right.

  He really was an asshole.

  HE NEVER CALLED ME BACK.

  It’d been almost two weeks since we last spoke.

  I couldn’t believe he felt so little for me that he wouldn’t even return my phone call. We spent an entire month together, and I thought I’d earned more respect than that. I might have provided a service, but I also provided my friendship.

  Even that meant nothing to him?

  By the time I got off work, smoke was blowing out of my ears. I was hurt that I meant so little to him, that we had something real, but he didn’t value it. After the way he’d been burned in the past, he was afraid to get close to anyone…but I wasn’t just anyone. I expected him to put aside that fear and actually step up and be a man.

  So I went to his penthouse.

  Maybe it was wrong to show up on his doorstep unannounced, but this wouldn’t have happened if he’d returned my phone call. I stepped into the elevator, and even though I knew the code, I pressed the intercom button to speak to him. “Slate, it’s Monroe. I’m coming up.”

  He didn’t speak back to me through the intercom, but he hit the button so the elevator would rise to the front of his penthouse.

  The doors opened and revealed his living room, the glass of scotch on the coffee table while the TV showed a football game. He sat on the couch in just his sweatpants, his beard much thicker than the last time I saw him. He watched me with his brown eyes, slightly hostile but not overly unwelcome.

  Now that we were face-to-face, my courage fizzled out like a can of soda that had been open too long. I stepped into his living room, dressed in the yellow sundress and jean jacket I wore to work that afternoon. Last time I was there, I had a great night with a great man. But now, he was just some stranger. I slowly approached the couch and noticed the way he didn’t rise to greet me.

  He didn’t show me an ounce of affection.

  Maybe I really did mean nothing to him.

  He took another drink of his scotch and rose to his feet. “How can I help you, Monroe?” He stared at me with indifference, like I was insignificant to him. He stepped closer to me but kept his arms by his sides. Muscular and gorgeous, he was exactly the same as he’d been two weeks ago, but now he was ice cold.

  “How can you help me?” I whispered back. “You could start by explaining why you never called me back.”

  “I’m not obligated to call you back.”

  I couldn’t keep the shock off my face. The last time we were together, he kissed me between my legs then hopped in the shower. Now he behaved like that never happened. “What if I needed help?”

  “Not my problem.”

  “Wow…you really are an asshole.”

  He didn’t flinch at the insult. “Monroe, I told you what this was. I told you there was only one thing I wanted. When I got it, this would be over. I enjoyed the chase, but once I claimed my reward, that was it.”

  I refused to cry in front of him, to let him know how much he hurt me. It took all my strength, but I managed to pull it off. I was able to bottle all my hurt deep inside until I finally left his penthouse. “We have something, Slate. We both know it.”

  “Friendship and lust.”

  “No, something more than that.”

  “Well, that feeling isn’t mutual.” His brown eyes were aflame like two burning fires.

  “You hadn’t been with anyone else—”

  “You’re reading too much into that. I like to focus on one woman at a time.”

  “And take them to dinner?” I asked incredulously. “Cook for them? Pay them double? That was out of the ordinary.”

  “But it doesn’t mean anything,” he said simply. “The more you resisted me, the more I wanted you. End of story.”

  “Have you been with anyone else since?” There was only one answer I wanted to hear. If he gave the one I didn’t want, I’d struggle to keep my emotions together.

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “So, no.” I couldn’t keep the victory out of my voice. “Why are you fighting this?”

  “I’m not fighting anything, Monroe. I don’t want anything more to do with you.”

  I shook my head in disappointment. “I always thought you were a strong man, and strong men aren’t afraid to say how they feel. You’re running away like a damn pussy. I thought you were better than that.”

  His eyes narrowed with a hint of fire. “Get out, Monroe.”

  “You’re really going to just throw us away?”
>
  “We were never anything to throw away. I paid for your virginity, and that’s the end of the relationship. Now, leave.” He turned his back to me and grabbed the decanter of scotch. He refilled his glass and threw his head back and drank.

  “Fine. If you want to sit here and drink all by yourself, then have a good time. If you want to give up on people and relationships, so be it. If you’re too scared to actually live your life…then that’s your problem. Don’t expect me to wait around until you change your mind. Because I’m not the kind of woman that waits around for any man—including you.”

  AFTER SHEDDING a few tears during the walk, I ended up in a bar close to Slate’s building. The place was fairly quiet because it was a Wednesday night. Friends sat together in booths, and couples shared a drink at the tables. I was one of the few people at the actual bar, but I didn’t want company, so that was fine with me.

  I ordered a scotch. It tasted like smoke and burned my throat, but I needed something stronger than wine. The extra cash in my account seemed tainted, so I wanted to piss it away on my sorrow. I’d sold myself to a man who never cared about me, and I was an idiot for thinking he ever did.

  How could I be so naïve?

  Maybe he was lying about his feelings now, but did it really matter if he was?

  He refused to let himself want me.

  It was just as bad as not caring.

  I thought I’d just sold my virginity to him, but now I wondered if I’d sold my heart as well.

  A man moved onto the stool beside me, a scotch in his hand. “You don’t see beautiful women order scotch too often.”

  I turned to look at the man who joined me, a young and handsome guy in a suit. He seemed like a big shot like Slate because he had a fancy watch on his wrist, wore expensive cologne, and carried himself like he was important. “I don’t usually drink scotch…only when I’m having a bad day.”

  “What kind of bad day are you having? Like…you just broke up with your boyfriend kind of bad day?” He leaned toward the counter and grinned.