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“You’re sure?”
She nods again. “Go slow.”
“We don’t—”
“I want to.”
“I’ll stop if it hurts.”
She watches as I inch closer, my cock angling of its own will, like her body is a homing beacon and knows exactly where it’s meant to be. Her mouth drops open with the initial contact, the warmth of her on the tip nothing like it was on my mouth. She’s on fire, feverish with need.
I hold back, keeping my hips still, the head of my cock barely inside of her. I already know how this is going to go. I’m going to be too big for her, too much for her tiny body to take. It doesn’t matter that she’s done this before. It’s still going to feel like her first time, and I’m a fucking animal at thickening even further with that thought. I don’t want to hurt her, but at the same time, I want her to feel me when I’m gone. I want the ache there, the image of my cock inside her taking over her mind every time she moves.
It’s savage and uncivilized and fucked up.
She reaches for me, her hands on my shoulders when I make up my mind to go no further. I look from the spot of our connection to her eyes. There’s pleading there, a begging of sorts that lets me know exactly what she wants, and it isn’t to pull away and try this again another day.
“Nate,” she whispers. “Please.”
Her body contracts, her pussy throbbing like it’s begging for more, but I get the feeling it doesn’t understand exactly what’s in store.
“I’m going to hurt you,” I whisper.
She doesn’t answer me with words. Her lips meet mine, and her body rolls against me, taking just a little more of me inside. It’s what she needs, what her body is craving even though I’m certain she wouldn’t know how to ask for it with words. I drop to my elbows, sinking closer to her, my cock channeling deeper, and just when I think she’s going to push me away, she lifts her legs, planting her heels on my ass. It opens her, letting me sink to the root, and we both groan.
“Hold on,” she pants.
“Am I hurting you?” I make to pull away, but her leg muscles tighten, and her fingers dig into my back.
“It’s just different.”
“Tell me what you need.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.” Her head moves back and forth on the pillow. “It’s so much. I’m just… so full. The ache is back, but not painful. I just—”
“Need to come again.” Her pussy, as if it answers the question itself, clamps down even harder. “God, how in the world did this tight little pussy get so needy? Jesus, April, your body has a death grip on me.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
A chuckle escapes my mouth. “It feels amazing, baby. Can I move?”
“Yes, please.”
“So polite,” I say with a roll of my hips. “I can’t wait to hear all sorts of dirty things come out of that little proper mouth of yours. How’s that?”
She answers me with a kiss, her tiny whimpers getting swallowed by the grunts I can’t seem to get a handle on.
She’s absolute perfection—from the way I feel inside of her to the way her arms and legs are wrapped around me.
I didn’t expect this, didn’t anticipate her giving herself to me like this so soon. For my body it had felt like a lifetime, but I know it’s been less than two weeks. My need isn’t for the sex, it’s for her giving herself to me, trusting me enough to have her this way, vulnerable and needing, so fucking sure that I’m going to treat her right.
I’m not even pumping into her. All my body can manage is rolling my hips and the press of myself deep inside of her, and fuck, if it isn’t going to be enough, the perfect amount of friction and tightness to make me lose my mind.
Her own body is rocking into mine, taking what it needs to get what it’s begging for. The muscles of her core grip and tighten, her orgasm taking over her mind so hard she’s no longer moving her mouth against mine, and I erupt, planting parts of me so deep inside of her, I hope it stays there forever. I’ve never not used a condom with a woman, and as amazing as it feels, I know it’s her and not the extra sensations that takes me over the edge.
I’ve just made love to my wife… my fucking wife. I never thought I’d see the day where I’m wrapped around a woman I can’t pull myself an inch from.
I don’t feel that sudden drop in need that I’ve felt every other time. My head isn’t telling me to thank her for a good time and walk out. I can’t even seem to pull my face from her throat long enough to check on her, but I force myself to.
