She remains mute, but that’s fine by me. Because sass outside of the bedroom is hot, but compliance inside is my fucking heaven.
“I promised I would be gentle the first time. I know your circumstances, Abigail. You’ve been saving yourself, so I know you’re untouched… unused… tight.” I squeeze her arm and grin when she gasps.
Peeling her handbag away, I drop it to the floor and back her up. One step, then two. Three, four, five, until we cross from concrete to carpet. We enter my front door and step straight into my living room. I don’t close or lock the door, because I feel like she needs the comfort of an escape route, but I push her back and hold her up when she nearly stumbles.
“Careful now, Priss. If you trip and hurt yourself, you’ll ruin this for both of us.”
“I don’t know…” She bites her bottom lip and growls, as though her inability to form full sentences annoys her.
It has the opposite effect on me; the fact she can’t string more than three words together because of my proximity turns me the fuck on. My cock presses against the fly of my pants, because she’s a fucking virgin, and I’m about to be squeezed to within an inch of my life.
“I’m not sure what…”
“Let me take care of you,” I murmur. “I promise to treat you like a lady tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to have sex.”
I shoot back and look into her eyes. “Come again?”
She gives a nervous nod. “I’m not ready to give it all away. I can’t… I’ve held onto this dream for more than half of my life, but maybe…” She pauses. “Maybe something else.”
“Fuckkkk… I get the feeling I’m going to be giving away free orgasms tonight, Priss, and I’m gonna have to pull my own dick again. That’s not nearly as much fun as what I was imagining.”
“I’m sorry.” She shies back, as though my words hurt her. “I can just–”
“Stay right here with me.”
If she’s not ready for sex, then she’s not ready, but I’m going to push her limits as far as I can until she says stop.
Sliding my hands over her ribs and around to her ass, I lift her up and groan when her legs instantly wrap around my hips.
Innocent or not, we know what to do. We know our roles when it comes to the opposite sex.
I’m surprised to find a little meat to her ass, something real to hold onto as I walk toward my couch and feast on her neck. “You taste so good, Abigail.”
I turn at the couch, and back up until my calves touch the frame. Then I capture her mouth to distract her as I lower us down and sit her so my throbbing cock touches her core.
“Oh my gosh.” Our position sends her wild as she cries out and arches her spine.
The action pushes her chest forward, so I abandon her ass and bring my hands up. Her ribs are tiny, not an inch of fat beneath my fingers as they glide upwards. Her pulse slams between us, so it’s like a throb in the air, like I can feel it in my blood.
She moves on my lap and takes her own pleasure. She has no clue the porn-worthy visual she gives me, or that the sounds she makes are the sounds every man dreams about. Her hands clutch at my shoulders and dig in, but then I palm her tit, and she goes wild for a whole other reason.
“No. No, no, no, no.” Pale face but burning cheeks, she sits rigid on my cock and stares into my eyes. “Please don’t touch my breasts.”
“No tits?”
Her eyes water as she shakes her head. “Please don’t touch them.”
“So I get no sex and no tits. That’s what you’re telling me right now?”
Can a man see a woman’s heart break from the outside?
Yes, he can.Ican.
“I’m so sorry. You’re right.” Her voice cracks, and a tear spills onto her cheek.
They’re not crocodile tears, or the kind women notoriously use to get their own way. They’re just Abigail processing what she considers humiliation while I sit on my couch and breathe through the pain in my pants.