Not That Kind of Girl

Bless him, he didn't hesitate. He kissed me on the mouth—a great place to start—and then brought his face a little lower and licked the sensitive skin around my neck. Warm streaks on my skin cooled in the air as he drew new ones lower, down my chest, with a one quick, quiet little kiss on each of my nipples.

He went down my body faster than I expected, and when he got below my stomach, I realized what he was going to do. I looked at him, shocked, but he only smiled back at me. "Are you ready?" he asked.

I went limp and closed my eyes. "Oh, yes," I moaned out.

He touched me around the edge of my folds, He made me tingle, then burn. His palms traced around my sex, his fingers teased me, and when I was ready, I felt his lips again, a little off target, until he got closer, and closer.

Then came his tongue. A long, slow lick on my most sensitive skin. It was exciting and relaxing at the same time. Then another, warm and loving. He started a rhythm, a slow, deliberate pace of pleasure. But then he stopped, wiggled his tongue in just the right place and sent me into a paroxysm. Then back into his rhythm, then a kiss, a soft sucking feeling on my skin, then my clit.

He was unpredictable. Every move was slow and careful, but he threw me through a loop each time. I kept my eyes shut and lost myself in it. I knew I didn't have long before I came.

He built up the energy in me, letting it peak and fall, and then peak again, higher. My breathing got high, and then loud, but he didn't stop. He gave one long, slow lick, as if he knew I was right on the edge, and I cried out with my first orgasm.

I felt pressure on the mattress and knew he was crawling up the bed. Pure pride showed on his face when I opened my eyes.

"That was amazing," I told him. "But I didn't make you cum yet."

"It's okay. Like I said, I know how to wait for what's good."

"You don't have to wait! A girl can cum more than once, you know."

He laughed. "Of course I know that! Didn't I tell you I know what I'm doing?"

"You didn't just tell me. You showed me."

He rubbed my cheek, and I pressed my hand into his palm to encourage him. He brought his face low, whispered, "We're going to need some kind of protection. Where do I find it?"

I pointed weakly at the nightstand. "Bottom drawer."

He got up off the bed, and as strange as it is to say, I missed him for the fifteen seconds it took him to pick out the condom packet, tear it free, and then place it on the tip of his cock and roll it over the shaft. He stood sideways to me so I could watch the show as his rod became enveloped in clean, shiny, transparent rubber.

I spread my legs invitingly as he got back in the bed and straddled my hips. "Are you ready?" he asked me.

"Do it!" I gasped. No girl likes it when a guy rushes and pushes into her before she's wet and ready, but I was very wet and very ready.

He didn't rush. I felt his tip, and I squealed with delight as it slowly pushed on me, into me, and I felt friction all the way inside me.

"Yes!"

He pulled out with equal slowness, then in again.

"Yes!"

His hands massaged my hips, then stopped and gripped me. I stretched my back and pressed myself into the bed. He settled his knees in a good spot on the mattress, and his third thrust was even slower and smoother than the last.

A little too slow. "Faster," I told him. "More, come on, more!" I sounded like a maniac, but I didn't care.

And he gave me more, faster. Soon, I lost control, and all I could feel was him, pushing himself inside me, making me twist and gasp and moan.

He didn't make a sound. He kept up laser-tight concentration on me, my face, and my pussy as he pushed me closer and closer to the edge. There was a tightening in his cock, in his grip on my hips, and I could tell he was close. He slowed down, but I could tell he was still close, trying not to finish before I did.

I decided to help him a little bit. I reached down, played with my pussy and stoked myself even hotter. He thrust when I didn't expect, and soon I was yowling with my second orgasm.

His cock strained. I could feel the underside pumping, and the condom filled up.

For a long moment, we did nothing but look at each other, tired and happy. I barely had any strength left in me, but I used it all to reach up and pull him down on the bed, down next to me.

We both needed to get ourselves cleaned up, but we didn't want to end the moment, so we just stayed there, enjoying the touch, the holding-together.

"I really kept you waiting," he teased me. "You've wanted that for a while." This time, it wasn't a question.

"Didn't even know what I was missing," I said. I squeezed his rear, pulled him closer to me. "And now that I know it, I'm not letting you go."

He laughed. "Of all the women to imprint on me, I'm so glad it's going to be you."

"Imprint?" I looked at him, shocked. "Oh, Mick, you know me better than that! We don't have serums here. We've got nothing to do with them."

"You mean, you don't want to? It might be smart. If you inject me, that'll immunize me, so no other woman will ever be able to do it."

"I have four brothers," I told him, "and we all have guns. I wouldn't worry about kidnappers if I were you."

"Are you sure? I know some women want to do it anyway."

"Some women worry too much. But I'm not that kind of girl."

He relaxed in my hands, and arms coiled tighter around me. "What we just did could become a habit," he said. "We might just be meeting like this more often."

I said something without thinking. "Soon this is going to be our bed, not mine."

He looked at me, surprised. "You think so?" His voice was frail, hopeful.

"Oh, I do think so." I snuggled closer to him. "It's not just the sex. I want you, all of you, with me no matter what."