“You don’t have to do that,” I said. My voice was calm, but my body was in turmoil. My stomach was doing backflips, my heart was pounding.
I curled upon his bed without asking and took out a geography textbook. I had to study for class the next day.
The words danced on the page. I suddenly didn’t care much for arid and semi-arid lands.
Victor sat down next to me and I closed the book. Gently, he took it from my hands and set it on the other end of the bed. He put his arm around me and I leaned on him, sighing deeply.
“Say what you want, when you’re ready.”
I didn’t know what to say for a long time.
When I finally blurted something out, it was just there.
“I wish I had a mom like yours.”
Victor was quiet. I laid down with him, curled up against his side. He didn’t press me or say anything. He just let me lay on his arm and rested his hand on my hip.
“I want my mom,” I choked out, my voice tight with anguish.
“It still hurts,” he said, finally. “I miss my father every day of my life. I’d give up the house and the car and everything else to have him back.”
“I thought everyone was like me,” I said. “I thought everyone’s father was like mine. Jennifer told me about her father. He died not long ago.”
Victor nodded.
“He never hit her. He took
her and her sister to the beach. He bought them candy and ice cream and he never hit her with a belt or burned her. She could watch TV and read whatever she wanted and she went to school.”
It just poured out of me.
“I don’t know how to be a person. All I know is math and history I had to memorize. I don’t know what to do or what to say about anything. I don’t…”
I trailed off, and wept softly.
Victor rolled onto his side to face me and took me in both arms.I wept softly in to his chest for what felt like hours.
“This is a co-ed building. You can get cleaned up in the girl’s bathroom if you want.”
I nodded, but I didn’t want to go anywhere. Victor gave me a washcloth and I cleaned up my face. My eyes were red and puffy and raw and my lip split when my father hit me.
“If he ever hits you again, I swear I will kill him.”
I tensed. “You can’t. Victor, you can’t.”
“Just because he’s your father-“
“They’d take you away,” I said. “I can’t lose you, too.”
“Eve,” he murmured, embracing me from behind.
I leaned back into him.
“You always know how to make me feel better. Make me feel better.”
I felt him tense up now.
“Eve, what do you mean?”
I turned around, feeling his arms slip around me. I chewed my bottom lip and unbuttoned the top of my shirt. Victor’s eyes went wide but he said nothing. He leaned back and I straddled him, sitting up a little, leaning on his chest with one hand while I undid the buttons with the other. I was not terribly proud of my body and my hand shook so much by the time I was halfway down that I couldn’t work the buttons. I took Victor’s hand instead and guided him.
“Please,” I said.
I sat up as he spread the top over my shoulders and tugged the sleeves free of my arms. I wasn’t dressed for seduction, and there was nothing sexy about the plain white t-shirt bra I was wearing, but his rough warm hands were shockingly gentle as he pulled the straps down my shoulders and reached behind me, sitting up a little, to unclasp it. My heart pounded as he pulled it away and drank me in with his eyes. His hands cupped my breasts, and he circled his thumbs lightly around my nipples. It was a hard shock, and made my legs jerk as I sucked in a breath. He sat up and pulled me to him, and kissed me and kept kissing me for what felt like hours, his hands pressed to my back. Finally he rolled onto his side, lowering me to the bed, and tugged my jeans down, took off my shoes and socks.
The more of my skin was exposed, the faster my heart began to beat. I could barely speak by the time he was slowly drawing my panties down my thighs.
“Oh wow,” he said.
The hair between my legs was darker than on my head, but not much.
“You look like you’re made of silver,” he said.
I didn’t think so. I thought I was pudgy in my legs and my breasts were too small and my skin too pale, a roadmap of veins all over me growing brighter as I got cold, and gooseflesh popped up all over my skin.
“You’re cold,” he said, “Here.”
He pulled his blankets over me, tucked them up to my neck and stood up. His shirt came off first. I pulled the blankets to my chin and watched, feeling a fluttery feeling in my stomach and heat between my legs. He turned around to undress. The wings tattooed on his back flexed as he moves. He shoved his jeans down and stepped out of them, and I stared at the heavy muscle of his ass and legs. I thought I should be scared, but I wasn’t. It was a kind of nervous excitement, a lot like that moment when I realized the boat ride was going to be a lot more intense than he told me it would be. When he turned around, I gasped. I tried not to look at his cock, but it was the first place my eyes went. I was aware of the basic facts of human reproduction but… I’d never seen a man naked before. I didn’t know it was supposed to be big like that.
He slipped under the bed and I froze as he put his arms around me. I only relaxed when he kissed me, before he did anything else.
“First time, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
“Okay,” he said.
His hands were light on my shoulders. He turned me on my back and kissed me. I reached for him, moving my hand down his stomach, but he pulled both my wrists to my sides and continued to kiss me lightly until I closed my eyes. Then he moved lower, touching his lips to my throat in quick, warm touches.
“Victor,” I murmured. “I can’t get pregnant.”
“Don’t worry about that yet,” he said. “Just relax.”
I was trembling, trying my best to relax. He settled on the bed, one arm over my stomach, and spent a very long time softly kissing my throat. He was letting me get used to him. After a while I did begin to relax, even if I was still excited. He had his eyes closed as he worked lower, his mouth and tongue on the skin over my collarbone as his hands caressed my sides. I slipped my arm around his neck and pushed him lower, and he obliged, working his way between my breasts. I never realized how sensitive the skin was there. I started to swear as he worked his mouth around the bottom of my breast from the center of my chest out, his stubbly cheeks scratching my skin, his hot breath flood over me. My nipple stiffened and I thought he would take it in his mouth, but he stopped. I opened my eyes and watched him kiss me everywhere
but
there, cupping my breasts in his hands.
When he finally closed his lips around my nipple I thought I was going to explode. The need between my legs was hot and strong, pulsing down to my toes. I tugged on his hair and pulled on him but he was in control, savoring my body. When he worked further down my stomach, it was like nothing I’d ever felt before. I’d fumbled with my fingers, felt some pleasure in my bed, but I was terrified of myself, in a way. Victor wasn’t. He settled in between my legs, kissing his way down from my navel and then I felt his mouth, hot and wet, and his tongue on my sex, and let out a soft sound before clamping my hand down over my mouth. Victor looked up at me, clearly amused at my embarrassment. Then he returned to tasting of my body, lightly at first, then more and more forcefully, his hands sliding down my sides to cup my backside in his hands.
I spread on the bed, my eyes lidded. My hand fell away from my mouth and I gripped the sheets. I started to shake and quiver, my legs, trembling, and Victor backed off, lightly kissing
my thighs instead. I relaxed even more, closing my eyes all the way, and he went back to my sex, only this time I felt something press at me. His finger. He was putting his finger inside me. Lightly, experimentally. My slick walls gripped his finger as he entered me, slowly, his hand trembling a little. Deeper, deeper. He was watching me, listening, and when his finger pressed in the right spot and my back arched, he knew he had me. It wasn’t long. Each time I lifted to a new height of pleasure I thought it was the end, but there was more. I was drowning in my own body, sliding away into a haze, and then it grew more intense, more powerful,
building and building
until I arched on the bed and my legs shot out, the muscles clenching and bunching as my throbbing sex squeezed his finger. Suddenly his licking and sucking was too intense and I writhed under him until he stopped, and rolled onto my side, panting.
He sat up and licked his fingers clean.
I though his cock was big before, but it was fully hard now. When he sat up it stood up straight against his belly. I looked at it and thought
he’s going to put that inside me
.
He ran his hand over my back. “Feel better?”
“Mmm. Yes.”
“Good.”
“Are we going to do it?”
“Rest. You’re not ready yet.”
I swallowed. “I want to something for you.”
“Eve,” he said.
I was already slipping to the floor. My legs trembled as I knelt beside the bed. I don’t know why I was so fascinated with the idea, but looking at his body just made me feel… almost greedy. There was no other word for it. I slipped between his legs and he stared at me, his tight stomach quivering. I rose up on my knees and pressed against him, so his cock pressed against me as I kissed his chest. His skin tasted salty. He was hard all over, but the skin on his chest and stomach were not like I expected, silky smooth. Even the tattoos. Up close, I studied them. There was an urgency in his body, like he was willing me to move lower. As I slid down his cock slid against my body, between my breasts. I dipped down and trembled at the idea, willing myself to do it, psyching up. I dipped down and took
his cock in my mouth, and he moaned softly, digging his fingers into my hair. His legs pressed against my arms and he leaned forward over me, panting.
Just the touch of my lips on the head was driving him wild. It made my heart pound in my chest. I took him deeper, ran my tongue around him. I thought he would like it if I used to my hand, too, so I did, and he gripped the edge of the bed with one hand while knotting his fingers in my hair with the other. His body trembled and his hips rocked as I moved my head up and down, testing him. I could feel the tension building in his body with every stroke, every touch. When I made a soft, hungry little sound, he tensed up all over, the head of his cock flaring in my mouth. I sucked on the tip and stroked the shaft, my spittle making it slippery in my hand. Victor tensed and tensed, his whole body shaking. Veins stood out on his stomach,
and as I cupped his balls in my hand I felt them tighten.
He cried out like he was in pain, his face tight and red and sweaty, but it wasn’t pain. There was a hot, explosive rush in my mouth and I didn’t know what else to do but swallow, so I did. Then there was more, and more, and more. I felt strange, possessive and possessed at the same time.
I sat back, kneeling on the floor, staring at his cock, then at him. He put his hands under my arms and pulled me up onto the bed with him, and to my surprise, kissed me. He rolled on top of me and kept kissing me, holding me in his arms. I wanted him inside me.
“I want to have sex,” I said, leaning on him.
I rolled on my back.
He rolled on his side and put his arms around me. Victor kissed me, and I curled my hand around his cock until he stiffened again. He had condoms in his dresser. He showed me how to put it on him, and I lay on my back, trembling.
“Relax,” He murmured as he slid on top of me.
“It’s a lot bigger than your finger,” I whispered.
“I know. I’m not going to hurt you. If you want to stop, tell me. Are you sure you-“
“Yes.”
I thought he would stay on top of me, but he didn’t. He rolled over and took me with him. Suddenly I was lying on his chest, resting on my arms. I sat up, gripping his hips with my thighs. I took his shaft in my hand and rubbed the tip against my entrance, feeling the warm. I’d been wet before, but not like this. It was sticky on my legs and I was throbbing, my body insistent. I shifted my weight and pressed him against me and all of a sudden he was inside, just a bit. I made an awkward noise and he held my sides to steady me. It felt so strange. He was
big
. I sank down on him slowly, shaking the whole time, until I settled in his lap and he sat up a
bit, and pulled me towards him. I felt so weird with the heavy mass of him inside me, spreading me open, moving as I moved. He wrapped his arms around me lightly and moved under me, and I collapsed on top of him, overwhelmed by the sensation.
Slowly, he rolled on top of me. I closed my legs around him and he strained against me, his face buried in my hair. On top of me, he made me feel small, but I liked it. I thought it was supposed to hurt. My books always talked about how it hurt. This didn’t hurt. It felt better than anything. He kissed me, murmured in my ear, laughed when I let out cries of pleasure. He slowed and stopped, and drew out of me. I was confused and started to ask if he was done, but he touched my lips with his finger and moved on the bed so he lay behind me, and
slid back into me from
behind. It was easier this time. My body just took him all at once, and I moaned at the feeling of completeness. His hand moved between my legs and he lightly stroked my clit while he pumped into me from behind and it drove me wild. I had to pull his hand away as my sex began throbbing, squeezing his shaft as he drove into me.
I felt it when he finished in me. I tugged on his wrist as he used his fingers on me, my body clenching on him as he drove me to a second peak, a shaking, earth-shattering shock that passed through me in waves, from my toes to my scalp. When it was over he gently drew out of me but laid there holding me, one hand between my legs, the other lightly cupping my breast, his face buried in my hair. He breathed deep, taking in my scent, his chest flexing against my back. He pulled the blankets up over my shoulder.