Page 13 of S is for SEX

And then, contact.

Holy crap. Holy effing crap.

I wrapped my hand around it, or at least I tried.

The giggling resurfaced.

“Are you okay?”

I began to stroke it gently, met his gaze, and nodded.

“I uhhm.” I stroked it a few times, and couldn’t help but grin. “I. You can. You can do whatever you want with me. And I mean it. Whatever. You. Want. I uhhm. I love sex.”

He smiled ever so slightly.

I grinned an eager grin. “I just wanted to get that out there.”

I wanted to make him happy. I planned to suck his cock, and hoped it would please him. I imagined seeing the look on his face as I took every inch that I was able into my mouth, carefully massaging his balls in my hand as I did so.

Seeking his approval by my maintained eye contact, I would continue until he either asked me to stop, or I brought him to orgasm.

But.

I didn’t get the chance.

“Good to know,” he said.

He lifted me from my feet.

Oh God.

He held me against him, skin-to-skin, and kissed me deeply. All the while, my feet dangled two feet over the floor beneath me. I felt weightless, small, dainty, and yet, protected.

I returned his kiss without reservation or pause. Hungrily, I devoured his lips and searched his naked body with my hands. I pressed my palms against the muscles of his back, along his shoulders, and then found his muscular arms.

Oh God.

The kiss lasted just long enough to make me anxious, but not so long that I wanted it to end.

Nonetheless, our lips parted.

He lowered me to the floor.

“Bend over the couch,” he said, more asking than telling.

I wanted him to put on a condom.

“But--”

“Just do it,” he said. “Lean over.”

With slight reluctance, I complied. His hands gripped my waist, but it felt odd. His thumbs were pressed into the divots at my hips, and his fingers were along the small of my back.

The exact opposite of what I was expecting.

And then.

Whoosh!

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