Now he’s got two fingers pressing against me, ready to enter me.
It’s going to be too much. It’s going to hurt. I tense.
“Relax, baby. Let me in.”
I do as he says. My reward is the sudden thrust of his two fingers at once. “Oh!” It burns as I stretch to take him. He pushing in, hard, and it hurts, but damn if it doesn’t hurt so fucking good. The lines of pain and pleasure blur as he presses his palm harder into my ass, cupping me tighter and entering me deeper.
If his fingers feel this amazing… what will it feel like to have his cock inside of me?
He slides his fingers back out. Bringing them both to my clit. He circles and teases. My hips wriggle and beg. Finally, he runs his finger over my swollen bundle of nerves. “Oh, yes. Yes!”
The climax comes from my toes, traveling up my body, the tension, the pleasure forming a circle of light and energy as it envelops my core. He doesn’t stop. He moves faster, harder, deeper. When he finds my clit this time it’s with heavy pressure, a rough, punishing touch.
I buck over his lap. Greedy and eager and desperate. “Please, please daddy, make me come!”
His crooning words reach me all the way down in my soul. “That’s right, pretty girl. Come for daddy. Come all over daddy’s fingers, you good, good girl.”
I don’t know if it’s his words or his fingers or some kind of celestial combination, but the orgasm finally comes. Hard and fast. My muscles tightening. My skin flushed. White lights behind my eyelids. A battle cry wrenching from my chest.
My head falls back down onto the couch, my mouth gaping, my eyes opening, staring out in disbelief. I’ve never, ever come like that. The power, the heat, the strength, it was almost too much.
I lay over his lap, panting. Recuperating. Processing. Trying to figure out how I will ever be able to crawl off of this man’s lap and make eye contact with him ever again, after what’s just passed between us.
What he’s made me do. What he somehow instinctively knew I wanted to do all along.
His hands are on my hips. He’s turning me over, pulling me up until I’m sitting in his lap. One hand snakes around my waist, pressing into my lower back. The other cups my cheek.
Our gazes lock. He stares into me, as if he’s seeing me. All of me. And in his eyes I see nothing but desire for more. More of me.
My nerves melt away. My shame dissipates. He closes his eyes, and he kisses me. Our lips press together, warm and firm. An understanding passes between us in that kiss.
This may be a one-night stand. A one-time thing. But there’s something between us, something that goes much deeper than a client and an escort. A connection of two beings with complementary desires.
His, to own, to possess.
Mine, to be taken out of control.
He kisses me, holding me on his lap. My spanked ass presses against his hard thighs, my flesh still stinging. The bulge of his hardening cock presses into my punished curves.
His lips caress my lips, my cheek, making his way to my ear. His whispered words make me tremble from the shiver he sends down my spine. “I’ll go slow. I’ll take good care of you. I promise.”
And I know he will keep his word.
In his arms, this stranger, I feel safe.
No longer afraid of reaching this milestone, this pivotal moment of womanhood, I welcome it. He carries me to the bed, laying me down. He rests my head on the pillow. Gives me a soft stare. “Are you comfortable?”
My teeth sink into my lip. I give him a nod.
“Are you comfortable?”
“Yes… daddy.”
He sits beside me. His fully clothed body a stark contrast to my bare naked one. His hand trails down my neck, over my breast. My already peaked nipples tighten beneath his touch. “You are truly striking. I’m enamored by you.”
I take him in. The deep color of his eyes. Those dark, steady brows. His hair, strands ending in slightly wild curls—the only thing about him that isn’t under perfect control.
I’m ready. I want nothing more than this moment, than this night. Nothing more than to finally know what all the fuss is about.
And he’s the perfect man to take me there.
He leans down, kissing me once more. My mind slips into a delightful haze, loving every second of his kiss, his touch. I’m gone.
My phone suddenly springs to life, ringing out a raucous, “Humpty hump. DO the humpty hump!”
He pulls away. “What the hell is that?”
My palm finds my forehead. “Ugh. It’s my phone. I meant to silence it.”
He looks at me with a furrowed brow. “Whose ringtone is that?”
Does he think it’s another man calling me? It’s laughable, considering the fact that I’ve just confessed I’m an almost thirty-year-old virgin. But I find his slight jealousy endearing. “It’s Lexi. My sister.”