7. Stephanie

The man’s a maniac. His tongue is a magic thing and my body tightens and winds into wondering ecstasy as he drinks down my juices like a pirate drinks rum.

My pussy clenches and then white light streaks across my eyes and I scream, “Yes, yes, yes!”

Pleasure washes over me, dragging me under and throwing me around like a rag doll in a hurricane.

Panting, I open my eyes and see him languidly licking me, his head between my thighs and I lift a shaking hand to his hair, sliding it among the softness and reveling in his hardness around me.

He sits up and his chin glistens with my juices as he swipes a hand across his mouth.

“I need you,” he grunts, grabbing a condom out of the drawer by the bed.

For just a minute, unease creeps along my nerves. “Why do you have those if you’re a virgin?”

“Because I’m not an idiot. I’m a grown-ass man and I know if I ever bring a woman home I’m not gonna make love to her without protecting her and myself.”

“When I’m ready and I’ve got the woman of my dreams, then I’ll have a baby with her and I’ll know that I waited and made the right decisions for us both.”

“You sound like you’re so damn mature. I’m nowhere near as mature as you.”

He snorts. “It’s not maturity, baby. It’s care. I care what happens to you. I care what happens.”

And then he rolls it down on his shaft and my eyes widen. “Damn, I didn’t realize how big you are!”

I trail a finger down his slick, hard shaft and gasp when he jerks. “I need to get inside you before I lose my mind.”

He crawls up across me and his heavy length hits my thigh and then he lines up with my core.

“I don’t know how long I can last, baby. I fucking need you like I need air.”

I shake my head. “Don’t go slow. Take me and make me yours. Fuck me like you love me.”

“That part’s easy, baby. I do love you.”

And then he slams inside me and I lose my breath, my body going stiff and tight, the pain shattering my pleasure as white-hot fury pours over me and it feels like I’m being torn apart.

“Oh shit,” I whisper, my eyes tearing up and my throat clogging.

“Don’t move, baby. It will get better. God, I’m a dick. Why the hell couldn’t I make this better. I don’t deserve you. I’m so sorry.”

I close my eyes and breathe, just letting myself relax. And after a minute or so, my whole body just goes limp and then I can feel something else happening.

I shift and gasp when pleasure streaks like lightning into my core.

“Fuck, that feels good. Don’t stop.”

And like he’s perfectly in tune with me, he begins to move. His hips thrusting in and out as his hard parts my soft in the perfect rhythm of love that I’ve only written about, I’ve never felt.

He rolls over and I come up on top, straddling him. “Ride me, baby girl. Let me see you feel.”

I rotate my hips and groan as he slams up into me. We find our rhythm and it’s like a perfect paragraph, a symphony of letters that match and meld into something magical.

In and out, up and down, we come together in a dance as old as time, as much as part of us as the love we all seek.

And with one last thrust, one last quiver, I fall across his chest, my body shaking, sweat pouring off of me as I pant into his warm skin.

He groans and then I feel his warmth inside of me. He groans and pulls out, checking the condom and then standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

He comes back wearing a pair of boxers and carrying a cloth that he runs along my thighs, cleaning me up.

Then he comes back to bed after throwing the cloth in the bathroom. He climbs in and pulls me against him, covering me up as he tugs me into his chest.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Benjie.”

And I close my eyes and sigh, feeling for once that I’ve found something right. That I’ve met someone, or reconnected with someone who knows me, understands me and yet still wants me. Not for what I can give him. But for what he feels when he’s with me.

And I smile and close my eyes, content for the first time in my life.