How Cara Learned to Stop Worrying Ch. 03

I scooted closer to him and put my arms around his neck for a hug, exhausted by emotion but needing to convey my gratitude. "I'm out of practice, too. And did I mention the being scared shitless thing?"

"You know, I don't know why you're always so down on yourself. You seem to have it all together to me." I rejected his praise by pulling back from the hug, but he pulled me in tighter and whispered into my ear, making me shiver. "I don't know if you practice or not, but I can think of a few things you excel in. Top of the class. Expert level."

I started to laugh and tried to pull away again but he still wouldn't let me.

"No, no. Come on. I still have a lot to learn about you," he said, standing and leading me to his bed.

When we reached the bed I knew that I had to be naked as soon as possible. I glanced at him to make sure he was watching (of course he was) and pulled my dress over my head. My bra and panties hit the floor seconds later. I shook my hair out as I stepped out of my shoes, sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked the sheets; they were wrinkled but clean, and best of all they smelled like him. I let myself fall down flat on my back, my skin prickling with anticipation. He stripped off his clothes and laid down next to me on his side, taking in my nakedness. He reached out to stroke me from my neck down to just below my belly button. I looked at his whole body for the first time; the light skin with dark nipples, no significant body hair to speak of until a fine trail of black starting at his navel and leading down, long thighs. He was different in so many ways from the men I had known before. I found him intensely beautiful and exciting.

"The baby is here?" he asked, pressing gently where his hand had stopped.

"No," I said, as my heart beat faster. "Here." I moved his hand down, down, an inch into my hairline. "Right there, I think."

"So low." His fingers played with my hair a bit, feeling its texture, but he wasn't looking at my pussy. He turned over to his stomach and moved his face close to his hand, peering at my skin as if he could see through it. At last he looked further down, then up at me with a grin. This grin was not shy. This one looked kind of dirty.

"Is it all right if I return the favor you paid me the other day?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, my eyes wandering to the enticing view of his back and ass.

"Can I eat you out? Please?"

"Oh my god, Keiji." My hands went to my face again.

"Yeah, you say that a lot," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "I'll consider that a yes unless you tell me otherwise." He nudged my thighs apart and added, "Don't worry. I've practiced this a lot."

"Oh god, stop!" I laughed through my fingers.

"That's not what you'll be saying in about oh, given my extensive past history with you, maybe two minutes?"

"Will you please shut up?" I said, starting to close my legs. He narrowed his eyes and pushed my thighs apart with enough force to make me gasp. Sharp pangs of excitement shot through my body.

"I'll stop talking. But I'm not going to close my mouth, and you're not going to close your legs."

I nodded my assent and he relaxed his grip on my legs. For the first time in a sexual situation with Keiji, I felt a bit embarrassed. I wasn't sure what he liked and I was mostly just keeping up with my bikini line and taking a beard trimmer to things every now and then to keep the Z. Z. Top look at bay. It had been a long, lonely stretch of just me and myself. My vag was probably out of vogue.

"If it's not—you don't have to—"

"Will you please shut up?"

I tried my best to relax, though I found this almost impossible when he began to touch me. He used two fingers to spread my outer lips before glancing across the tip of my clit with his tongue. I inhaled sharply, ready to be overwhelmed by him as usual (and in my experience, most guys dive in like a kid into a pool on the first day of summer). To my surprise he moved on. He relaxed his tongue so that it lay flat and soft against me; he slowly slid down until he reached the entrance to my pussy. My inner labia were open and wet. He gave each delicate lip a soft, brief suck; I clenched my fists and all the muscles in my pussy at the phenomenal sensations. His tongue returned to the action by probing my hole with a firmer lick. I was so wet by now that the tip of his tongue slipped inside with no resistance. I couldn't suppress a moan which encouraged him to penetrate deeper. He must have liked what he tasted because suddenly, it was on. His tongue became a slick, flexing cock that he pushed in as far as he could, licking and pressing on the walls of my pussy as he moved it in and out. His nose bumped my clit as he worked.

He was right. I lasted about two minutes. I ran my fingers through his hair as I started to come and resisted the urge to mash his face into my pussy. I felt like it'd probably be impolite at this stage of our oral relationship, but he'd have to hold his breath the next time he made me come like that. I settled for noisy moans and rolled my hips until the intense pleasure faded.

Keiji propped himself up on one elbow, admiring my drenched pussy. He slipped two fingers inside, collected some of my juice, and displayed it to me with a scissoring motion.

"This tastes really nice," he said. "But I think it will feel even better."

"Mm." He always seemed to bring out my most eloquent side. I rolled over onto my stomach and stretched, reveling in my post-orgasmic glow. Even just the sheet against my skin felt divine.

"Since you're already there," he said, positioning himself behind me. I decided to stop being coy and raised my rear end to him in invitation. I reached behind me, feeling for him. Once his cock was in my hand I gave it a quick squeeze, relishing the contrast of his soft skin stretching over the stiff erection. I guided him to my pussy and let him go in about half an inch. I looked over my shoulder, wanting to watch him begin our first proper fuck in an actual bed. He exercised restraint at first with a composed expression as he pushed forward, burying himself to the hilt. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as my pussy stretched to acommodate him. He only betrayed his satisfaction by licking his lips and pausing to relish the slick warmth before pulling slowly back out. He repeated this move four or five times; as delicious as it was I started to feel frustrated.

"Keiji? You know you can't hurt the baby, right?" I asked, half-joking but also recalling a bunch of somewhat sad people fretting over this possibility on episodes of Loveline.

"I know, I know. It's just that this looks incredible. I mean, your ass. Wow." He slid into me again and ground his pubic bone into my butt for emphasis.

"Very romantic."

"I know you are. That's why you want me to start fucking you like I did the first time, right?"

I began to laugh, but he didn't give me a chance to do it for long before he grabbed my hips, pulled back, and rammed into me with a noisy slap. My laughter dissolved into gasps and cries as he repeated the same move over and over, giving up some force over time to increase his pace. I loved the smacking sound of his hard lower body hitting my soft butt; listening to it turned my arousal up another notch and another pang of need coursed through me. I turned my face into the pillow to hang on for dear life as my pleasure intensified. I was astonished that sex could be like this – I'd had a couple of moments before that were good, maybe even great, but it had taken me far too long to discover how much my anatomy – or my mind? -- loved rougher treatment. Maybe one day I'd ask Keiji to make slow love to me like a couple in a Harlequin romance, but right now I didn't think I'd ever get tired of being fucked like...well, like an animal. (Thanks, Mr. Reznor.) I had to remember to ask him what he was thinking of while he did this to me – baseball statistics? Dryer lint? How could he do it without coming in the first few minutes? So far I hadn't been able to hold back anywhere near as long as he had. In fact...

"Ah, fuck," I mumbled, a bit too overcome to speak up. "I'm going to come again."

"Good," he said. "I love it--when you come-- on me."

His words, separated by his thrusts, sent me over the edge. I bit down on the pillow and screamed through my teeth, finally able to let go without worrying about where we were. He pulled out with a little gasp, but I hardly noticed. As the peak of my orgasm passed I came back to reality and felt him running his hands over the curves of my ass. I turned back to him with an inquisitive look, wondering why he had stopped fucking me.

"You almost made me come, yelling like that," he accused.

"Ever heard of a simultaneous orgasm?" I said, trying to catch my breath. (Not that I'd ever experienced such an event.) "And why do you always look amazing? I'm pretty sure I look like a sweaty pig by now. You just glisten like dew on a daisy."

"Never mind me. You look hot, like you need some more. Maybe we can try that simultaneous thing out. Can you go again?"

I half-laughed, half-groaned and put my head back down on the pillow. He ran his hands under my body and up to my breasts where he fondled my nipples until the now-familiar pangs of pleasure so strong they almost hurt started coursing through me again.

"I think I can," I whispered. He didn't waste time with more chit-chat. He placed one hand on my right hip and the other on my left shoulder to brace himself and entered me, starting his powerful thrusts again. His breathing sounded a bit louder than usual and his fucking rhythm was getting irregular. Maybe he was actually tired by now!

"Oh yes, please. Please. Yes, yes! Please," I cried, meeting his thrusts by pushing backwards. I hoped my enthusiasm would encourage him -- I could feel another orgasm building and smiled at my own greed. Seconds later my eyes opened wide and I gasped as he moved his hand from my hip to between my legs. Say what you will for vaginal orgasms, but my clit had been somewhat neglected in spite of my obvious state of high arousal. He wasn't rough with me at all there; he pressed and rolled on the firm bump just enough to turn the sweet ache I felt there into an unstoppable wave of pleasure. I more or less exploded, coming for a half a minute or so while he rubbed me through each phase of my orgasm. I was still moaning through the contractions in my pussy when I felt his cock get even harder inside of me. He held his breath as he came, his hips jerking with his own spasms.

He collapsed on my back, exhausted, then rolled over to the side of me. He kept his eyes closed and blew a lock of hair off his sweaty forehead. I lay down on my side, facing him, curling my body into an S of satiated pleasure.

As I watched Keiji fall asleep, I mused on the unbelievable events of the past three weeks. Just as I was dozing off, I realized that we couldn't keep the pregnancy to ourselves forever. I didn't want to keep it a secret, either. I had to at least tell Evan, and there were our parents and other family members who would need to know at some point. I imagined how the initial conversations would go. How could I explain this to the people I loved so that they would understand, when I wasn't sure what happening between Keiji and me, or even just to me? Did I love him or was I sexually infatuated? Maybe it was a bit of both. What was it about him that provoked me so much? Could our connection last, or were we setting ourselves and our child up for heartbreak? I knew I couldn't answer these questions without giving the relationship more time to develop, but in the meantime they would keep worrying me.