Page 10 of To No End

He could tell I was losing all confidence and quickly becoming distracted. He grabbed my chin and straightened it to look at me. “Hey, it’s ok. I won’t anymore. I just really wanted to make you feel comfortable, I thought it might be an advantage.” His voice softened with kindness.

If there was anything I could thank the Gods for, it was the realization that I had chosen wisely. It was treading in risky territory to pursue someone other than a stranger, but it was Gris’s attentiveness to me and my needs that solidified it. Despite my anxious and eager body, being pinned underneath my gorgeous friend was exactly where I was meant to be.

Gris teased me with soft kisses and spoke once more, “Cress, you’re sure?”

I nodded, and this time it wasn’t with fear and uncertainty. Gris smiled, his eyes alight with a happiness that seemed rare for him. He began to kiss down my neck with a palpable hunger. His hands roamed greedily down my sides, feeling every curve of my waist and hips.

In a swift movement, he drew one hand to squeeze my breast. I gasped in unexpected pleasure, and he swallowed the sound in between our kisses. He sat up and removed his shirt, tossing it to the floor carelessly and revealing more muscles that I had refused to acknowledge any other time I had seen him shirtless.

My eyes feasted on his body, his arms, and my gaze trailed all the way down his stomach to the beautiful V that framed the top of his pants. His skin, a stark contrast to my pale flesh, even in the dim candlelight. He was unbelievably attractive; I felt very lucky. Everything in me was growing warm, hot. I badly wanted to be rid of this horrible velvet dress.

Gris crawled to the edge of the bed and began to slowly lift my dress, trailing kisses up along my leg, and while I had no idea what a climax truly meant, that alone could have been my undoing. He pulled away and I took it as my cue.

I sat up quickly, ungracefully lifting my dress over my head and tossing it to the floor beside his shirt. I realized now I was completely naked, and he wasn’t. In my head, I was starting to panic. I had not worn anything special underneath. Nothing lacy like the growing collection Versa had in her armoire.

Embarrassingly, I had been so focused on rushing to the task at hand that I hadn’t put on any undergarments at all. Gris had not taken his eyes off me, not once. He had a look that was bordering on feral. “You naughty thing, no layers for me to peel off?”

He just stood there, drinking me in. I did the best I could to mirror his audacity and stated plainly, “Your turn.”

Gris looked shocked at my remark, then sauntered over to me as I sat in the nude at the edge of the bed. The drawstring of his trousers was now at my eye level, and it was then I could see the length of him—a hard outline straining against the confinement.

In my mind, it seemed like a powerful thing to feel like you could draw a physical response from someone this way. And in turn, he was doing the same to me; I could feel myself becoming wet like the times I had touched myself.

He began to slowly untie the top of his pants till he removed them fully, releasing himself into my view. Each line we crossed felt like the point of no return. Gris and I stared at each other’snaked figures in the dim candlelight, the increasing hunger for one another edging on unbearable.

I knew there was a whole spectrum of things we could do, but I didn’t know how long I was going to be able to keep up this show of confidence with him. Especially if I alluded to how little I knew or had experienced. I had come here with one thing in mind, and as long as that was accomplished, then I’d met my goal.

Gris lay down beside me, and we faced each other. He began to run his fingers idly along the side of my hip and slowly down my stomach. The light trail of his fingers sent ticklish sensations down my abdomen that I could feel reverberating, causing my muscles to throb. I inched closer to him and began kissing him again to distract myself from everything to come.

While his tongue danced along mine, I felt his hand inching down, lower and lower, before I grabbed it to stop him. Still trying to maintain our passionate kisses, I didn’t want him to focus on anything but what I needed done. I was beginning to ache with anticipation and frustration, all in one.

He pulled away momentarily. “Let me help you relax.”

I don’t know what he meant by that, but I was trying to follow his lead.

He continued to kiss down my neck, along my shoulder, and before I could stop him, he slipped his soft hand between my legs. There was no hiding the evidence of my want, and the next thing I knew, he began to rub two long fingers up and down my slick apex.

My breathing hitched and was starting to become uneven as he continued, no matter how much I tried to clench my thighs against his hand.

He looked me square in the eyes and asked me in a hushed voice, “Do you trust me?” All the while he dragged his fingers in a slow, fluid motion.

I thought I was going to die right then and there. This was by far the sexiest thing that had ever happened to me. As I began to mouth the word “yes,” he slowly slipped a finger inside of me and I arched my back, leaning into this amazing feeling.

Before I could show signs of wanting more, Gris continued to nibble, lick, and kiss my breasts, and with the next gentle thrust of his hand, I felt a second finger slide in. As the pressure built, my panting became increasingly obvious.

After Gris had stroked me gently into a mess, he pulled his fingers from me and I looked at him with intense need as I missed the feeling of his hand between my thighs.

Gris was intently focused on me; I had almost forgotten him and his magnificent body, his manhood that remained rock-hard. He lay back on the bed and ordered me to crawl on top of him. I hovered over his stomach, not knowing what to do next, and he could see the flushed nervousness canvassing my face.

“I want you to take me inside of you. Slowly.”

This was finally happening. I was already hot and my body ready from everything that had come prior, but now I was perspiring out of fear.

Gris placed his hands on the tops of both my thighs and spoke with all the patience in the world, “This will hurt less if you do it this way. You’re in control.”

Encouragement. Consideration. Consent. My chest felt tight with an overwhelming appreciation for the way he was helping me, guiding me through all these emotions that were racing inside me. Desire, passion, confusion, fear, nervousness, tension.

I knew I was being cared for, and I let the safety of all of that wash over me as I let the tip of his length rub against me, and it made me eager for more.

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