Page 35 of My First Time Fling

When Mark finally pulled away, I stared up at his face, searching his eyes for an answer to the question I couldn’t bring myself to ask. He looked abashed, and surprised, but then he smiled.

“Was that okay?” he asked.

He sounded so concerned, so worried, that I almost laughed. But I had a choice, I realized. I could turn this all into a joke, write it all off—or I could be honest, really, truly honest, and hope he would do the same thing.

“It was definitely okay.” I took a deep breath. “As long as you know that it was okay because I like you. A lot. And I’d like to do that again. A lot. But only if it’s real. Because you’re great, and I have so much fun when I’m with you, but I can’t do a confusing, half-relationship, half-friendship kind of thing. It has to be real, with you.”

“Okay,” Mark said simply.

I stared at him in shock. Despite my hopes, I hadn’t actually expected him to say that. I didn’t have an answer prepared.

“As long as you know that this would be my first time dating a guy,” he continued. “I mean, I think you’ve probably figured that out by now. And as long as you’re okay with me maybe being bad at this. But I promise, I want this, too. I want you. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I know that much, at least. I wantyou.”

His voice had a desperate edge to it, and I found myself smiling through sudden tears.

“Really?”

“Really.”

I reached up and kissed him again. I couldn’t think of anything better to say, or anything better to do, than to put my lips on his. And it turned out, that was perfect.

We kissed on the dance floor. We kissed as we stumbled through the sand. We kissed as we walked uphill, leaning against a split-rail fence, and a mailbox shaped like a fish, and the one streetlight in the whole town. We kissed in the front yard of the Sea Glass Inn, the stars above and the ocean below. We kissed as we staggered into the house, and down the hall, and at the doorway to our bedroom.

And then I forced myself to stop.

“Hey, listen.” I peered up into Mark’s face. “I don’t want things to move too fast for you. I know this is new. I don’t want to force anything, or make you feel like you have to—”

But then he kissed me again, and I abandoned that line of thought.

As soon as we closed the bedroom door, Mark pushed me up against it, one hand caressing my neck, the other buried in my hair. I used the opportunity to run my fingers up and down his body, loving the fact that I was finally getting to do something I’d been fantasizing about for so long.

I stroked along his stomach until I found the bottom of his shirt and began to pull it upward. I moved slowly at first, giving him time to get used to this, to change his mind, but he didn’t, and soon I was touching his bare chest, chiseled and sculpted like a goddamn statue.

My hands dropped to Mark’s waist, and I moved one around to the back, rubbing his ass through his jeans while the other palmed the bulge I could see in front. He hummed into my mouth as I rubbed him, and I took that as a good sign, flicking the buckle of his belt open and pushing his jeans down so I could get at the light fabric of his boxers underneath.

I palmed the hardness between his legs, and my eyes shot open involuntarily. Mark really was huge. I couldn’t wait to see him uncovered.

Mark’s hands drifted to my shirt, and I helped him tear it off. I was too eager to let him do it himself. But when he moved to my waist, I noticed that his hands were trembling.

“Hey,” I whispered, looking at him intently in the darkened room. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay—we don’t have to.”

“Jess, Iwantto,” Mark said, insistent. “Please, don’t think I don’t want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I’m not excited, okay?”

“Okay.”

I helped him unzip my jeans and shimmied out of them, letting them join the rest of our clothes in a pile on the floor. I realized that for the first time, I was the one who was more experienced in the bedroom. In this context, at least. There was something about that that turned me on.

I took Mark’s hand and pulled him toward the bed. How hot was it that someone as sexy as Mark was nervous about takingmeto bed? Hopefully he’d get over his nerves soon, though, because all I really wanted was for Mark to take me in literally every way possible.

I lay back on the bed and pulled him down on top of me, flashing back to the day in the park when he’d fallen. This time, though, Mark let his chest touch mine immediately, leaning into the kiss while he stroked my side. I moaned into his mouth when his hand found my cock and I felt his hardness press up against me. Well, he definitely wasn’t lying—he wanted this.

I found the waistband of his boxers and hooked my fingers underneath the thin fabric. “Is it okay, if I—” I pulled down slightly and Mark nodded, helping me pull them off.

“Holy shit, you’re…gorgeous,” I gasped. He was. His cock was long and thick, with curly blond hair at the base, and it was so hard. I wanted it more than I’d wanted anything in…I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d wanted something so badly.

Mark pulled my briefs off and smiled when he saw me uncovered. “You’re gorgeous,” he said, repeating my own words back to me.

I blushed. “You don’t have to say that just to make me feel good,” I said, laughing slightly. “The fact that you’re attracted to me at all is compliment enough.”

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