Finally, after a tortuous minute of his eyes traveling over me while he wraps himself up with a condom that appears from the inside pocket of the suit jacket he still wears, he circles my warm, wet need with the tip.
“Miles, I should probably tell you something…”
17
Miles
I don’t need to look at my face in the mirror to know what kind of signal she’s getting from me.
Martha has just admitted to me that she’s a virgin and I can tell by the look on her face that she was scared to tell me. Scared that I would want to stop everything right here.
But all I feel is grateful.
All the tension in her beautiful face dissipates.
“Thank you, lovely,” I say, my cock in position, my hands reaching up to cup her jaw. “This isn’t where I would have liked your first time to be, so if you want me to stop…”
“No,” she whines. “I need you. I trust you. The only thing that matters is that it’s you.”
I nod, and then place tender kisses all along the inside of her thigh.
“I am fucking crazy about you, Martha,” I say as I stretch her pussy walls out with my two fingers, now knowing how untouched she is. “Thank you for trusting me.”
I slide the tip in then, inch by agonizing, heart-pounding inch, waiting to feel her resistance.
“But I don’t feel a cherry. Are you sure—”
Martha exhales out a little laugh as her walls clench on me with a grip that makes my balls ache. I growl out something unintelligible.
“Silly boy. I may be a virgin, but the cherry went the way of the dodo many, many vibrators ago. So no worries about that mess.”
I nearly blurt out the words, “I love you,” but I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself.
Instead I focus my energy on sliding all the way in, slowly. With her legs up on my shoulders, my dick glides in deeper than I ever thought possible. My cock throbs as her eyes roll back into her head.
“God, you’re so fucking tight, Martha,” I breathe, reveling in the feel of her pussy taking in all of me down to the hilt. I groan as I pull out and push back into her slowly again, careful not to knock her head against the mirror.
“So good,” she moans. “So glad I waited, even if I didn’t know I was waiting for you.”
I push back in slightly harder. “You’ve been a bad girl, Martha,” I growl as I thrust in and out with slightly more force each time.
“Hmm?”
“I saw what you did in there. I saw you cut your eyes over at that meathead sitting next to you.”
Her voice turns into a cat’s purr. “I did no such thing. I was just disappointed you didn’t like me playing footsie.”
“Footsie is one thing. That was a full-on foot job.”
“What’s a foot job? I think you made that up,” she says with an edge of snark to it. An edge that I pound out of her when the next thrust has her gasping for breath. “Oh! Oh God! So good!”
“A word of advice, Martha,” I say as I pull out and push in again with a sudden slowness. I punctuate every word with a slow, firm thrust that has her back arching up off the countertop more and more each time. “Don’t. Ever. Try. Making me. Jealous. Again!”
I ramp up the speed of my thrusts and go to work on her clit with the pad of my thumb. At this contact, her back arches up so high that her soft, blushing tits are nearly falling upside down. I need to taste them again, taste her mouth. I hold back my orgasm for as long as it takes to build her up to her climax.
“My sweet Martha,” I whisper as I watch her writhe under my attention to her tight, throbbing pussy.
Finally, sweat from the back of her knees drenching my shirt, her back arches so high I can see her hot breath steaming the mirror, her orgasm blasts through her body like a rocket.