Page 56 of Kicking It with the Point Guard

“Cam… I…” I can’t get my mouth to cooperate. These feelings are almost too much.

I squirm beneath him as his hand slides under my shirt. Up and up until he’s cupping my breast.

He pulls the cup down, exposing my nipple.

I’m panting now, but I gasp when he rolls the sensitive bud between his fingers.

“Cam… can… can we?” I can’t say more, but he understands what I’m trying to say. Cam always understands.

“I’m just getting you ready,” he says, his voice husky. “I want this to feel good… for both of us.” A flash of sadness darkens his eyes, there and gone in an instant.

“Oh, okay.” This might be new for me, but he’s only done things that made me feel good. I need to relax and let him be in control.

He needs the control.

I won’t be like Allyson.

He may be just a little more experienced than me, but his hand is working magic on my sex.

His fingers curl inside me, pressing on some invisible button that I didn’t know existed, and his thumb hits me just right. Wave after wave of pleasure washes through me, and my underwear feels damp.

Did I just pee?

Embarrassment mixes with the pleasure that Cameron just wrung out of me, but I don’t say anything. Cam doesn’t look disgusted, so this must be normal. But when he goes home, and I know I won’t be caught doing something so ridiculous, I am doing some research on sex.

He slips his hand out of my pants, grabbing the waistband and slipping them down until they’re at my ankles. I kick them the rest of the way off, resisting the urge to cover myself.

He stands, pulling his own pants down, and his… member—which is very erect—springs free. He grabs one of the condoms that Mom taped to the door and smiles down at me.

His gaze is filled with so much warmth that I might melt into a puddle right here on the bed.

He tears the package open and slides the condom on with one hand. It takes a little longer than it did the time I had to put one on a banana in health class. But that could be because Cameron is a bit larger than a banana.

He climbs back onto the bed and settles himself over me.

“Are you ready?” He’s watching me intently, looking for any signs of hesitation. I know, because I’m doing the same.

“I trust you.”

The look on his face is reverent. He tilts his hips forward and the head of his dick nudges at my entrance.

It seems that we’re both holding our breath as he slowly pushes himself inside me. He gets about halfway, and I wince. He’s stretching me, and it hurts… just a little.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, concern etched on his handsome face.

“Will it hurt the whole time?”

“You’ve… never done this before?”

He looks surprised.

“No…” I look away from him, embarrassed for more reasons than one.

He comes back to himself. “It’s not supposed to hurt the whole time. I’ll go slow, and if you want to stop, we’ll stop.”

Now I feel foolish. He’s being so considerate of me after everything he’s been through.

“Okay.” I smile up at him.

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