Getting Ready for Bed Ch. 02

I stood there and marveled. I was so stunned, in fact, I don’t have a clue what I was thinking - or if I was even thinking at all. This was no stunt, no gag. I looked at her face, and saw that this was, in fact, as serious as a heart attack.

She looked at me, frightened. I could see her eyes were shinier than they had been, moisture forming around the corners.

“Please,” she said in a whisper.

There was so much to unpack in that single word, so much meaning. Even someone as dense as I could be, I understood what she was saying.

Please don’t hate me.

Please don’t reject me.

Please don’t stop.

Please fuck me as if you didn’t know.

Please accept me.

All of that was wrapped up in one tight, throat-constricted word. The woman who lay before me on the bed, spread-eagled and naked, vulnerable and on the knife-edge of emotion, was waiting to see which way things were going to go.

I felt the weight of the next moments pressing upon me. There wasn't much time before she would make up her own mind, and if I didn't say or do something right now, the moment would be ruined. Forever. We would never be able to get back to this place.

My cock, slippery and wet from her earlier orgasm, didn’t care at all. Its homing capabilities were in full force, and it knew that there was a pussy waiting for it. Oblivious to the emotional impact of the moment, it simply wanted to sink into that warmth and comfort once again. It waited, bobbing with my heart beat, resting just at her entrance. I could feel her heat, and I knew I was lined up perfectly.

She had no idea whether or not I would do it, though. I could tell in her eyes that she was fully expecting me to withdraw from her, leave her empty, reject her. How bad does it have to be to know that a man is hard and painfully erect, and still is not willing to fuck a willing partner?

I wondered how many times this had happened before, how many rejections she had suffered. Obviously, looking at her now, it happened far more than any person could or should be reasonably expected to recover. And yet, she was not a bitter person, she could have grown angry, could have resented everyone - all men - but she didn’t.

I think it was that moment that I knew that I was going to fall in love with her. I saw something in her, or rather, I felt something in her character, in her personal... value. She knew she was different, and had suffered greatly for it. She had gone through a personal hell that I could never imagine, and yet had come out the other side a genuinely warm, wonderful, beautiful human being.

Leaning forward, I took her in my arms, and as my face got closer to hers, I whispered, “I’m here.” I absolutely, positively, did not choke up on those words, and none of you can prove that I did.

Her body melted beneath mine, and her arms wrapped around my back as she pulled me down to kiss me. We kissed, deeply. I felt moisture on my face, and I’m not sure if it was mine or hers. I don’t think it really mattered, though.

“Please,” she said again, but this time there was a tone of genuine longing. “Please... make love to me.”

It was then that I realized that I was buried inside her already. It must have happened when I leaned down to kiss her, but I was so focused on bringing her closer to me that I hadn’t even recognized the change in situation. Even that first night, it just felt natural.

She wrapped her legs around me, her powerful thigh muscles keeping me close to her. We kissed passionately, and tried to get as much of our bodies touching as possible. We didn’t “fuck” as much as “compressed and released... repeat as necessary.” Being inside her and holding her close had a sensation of - and I’m not making this up - home. That’s actually funny from my perspective, because up until that moment “home” didn’t have the warm and fuzzy connotation that the word implies. For now, though, I thought that I understood what people meant by it.

Jan’s penis had just enough room to rub back and forth on my stomach, as both our backs were arched slightly to give me more depth inside her body. I’m not going to lie - it was an extremely odd sensation. I couldn’t look down and see it, though I tried, because we were pressed so tightly together and her breasts blocked my view.

But I could feel it, and it seemed to tap against my body as we ground together. Much later we would learn that some lotion or massage oil would make it more comfortable for both of us, but at the time it was a raw sensation that was radically new for me.

“Can I -“ we both said at the same time, and then giggled.

“You first,” we both said again, and then I kissed her. I nodded, prompting her to speak. “Can I,” she said again, but then paused. She swallowed, and then tried again.

“Do you mind if I stroke myself?” she asked. Then, in a rush, she blurted, “I won’t come if that makes you feel uncomfortable, I just want to feel more complete as you move inside me.”

I realized I had so many questions. She could come with her penis? She had just come with her pussy, so how did this work? Did she want to come? What would happen? Did they come at the same time? Was she multiorgasmic with both her cock and her pussy?

Now, if you’ve read the first story, you know some of the answers to those questions already. But here, now, at this time, I knew nothing and had no idea what to expect.

“I -“ I began, but she stopped me.

“Wait, wait,” she shook her head, slightly, though there wasn’t much room for her to do that. “What were you going to say?”

I smiled, and continued to push and pull inside her. I felt our bodies begin to perspire, and her cock began to move just a little more freely against my skin. “I was going to ask,” I said, “if I could touch you... there.”

I felt her pussy grab me, and her cock seemed to lunge against me in anticipation. Or perhaps I was simply projecting what I would feel like if it were me.

“Oh god, you really want to?” Some of the earlier fear seemed to return to her face.

“It’s part of you,” I said. “I don’t want to make love to just some of you.”

She took my face in her hands and kissed me very hard, and very deep. I could feel a longing in her mouth that went far beyond our sexual activity. We were heading into too good to be true territory, and I think we both knew it.

“I would love that,” she said, “but there’s something you need to know, first.”

Now I was curious. “What’s that?”

“I can come very easily if someone touches me there,” she said, searching my face for a reaction. “Aaaannnnd.... I can’t control when it happens.”

Oh my. How could I not play with her after that?

I snaked my hand between us, and felt someone else’s cock for the very first time in my life. She stiffened, and I knew exactly what she was feeling. There’s an indescribable feeling that happens when someone touches your penis for the first time. It’s equal parts anticipation, dread, arousal, fear, and pure unadulterated lust.

She pushed herself against me, trying to give herself to my hand. My fingers began to wrap around her cock in an embrace, and in the space of a single heartbeat I now had a firm grip on her erection.

The sensation for me was surreal. Jan was all woman, and there was no doubt about that. Later on it would dawn on me that I never once thought about whether or not I was gay (I’m not), but only thoughts about how she had something new and different to my realm of experiences. Well, that and I was concerned that I was doing it “right.”

That concern lasted all of about three seconds. We separated just enough so that I could get better purchase on her cock, and found my thumb in the perfect position to stroke the small divot underneath her glans. There was now enough perspiration between us that we were able to get just enough lubrication for her.

Jan ground herself against me, and I felt her cock grow in my hand. We both looked down and nearly bumped our heads together at the same time. Thankfully, we didn’t, but I don’t know if it would have stopped her in any case.

When I come, it seems to come from the small of my back, race around my hips, and then shoot out of my cock. I don’t really know how to explain it - it starts off with a “buzzing” feeling and then somehow winds up with actual liquid flowing from the base of my cock and out the tip. The head of my cock seems to gasp for air just before it releases and ejaculates.

On a hunch, I wondered if Jan was the same way. With my free hand already pinned to the mattress and grabbing her ass, I gripped her buttocks even stronger and pulled her onto my cock so that her pussy lips splayed out across the root.

I gripped her cock tightly, and felt it pulse just like mine did. I know it was just my imagination, but it seemed to thrash in my hand, struggling for air, and then I felt the rush of her ejaculate fire up through the shaft.

It was only then that I noticed that she was mesmerized by the sight, herself, repeating soft oh oh oh sounds as she watched her own cock ready its eruption. She never got to see it, because as her orgasm hit she threw her head back, squeezed her eyes tight, and strangled her own exhalation.

Obviously, I’ve masturbated before. I’ve lain on my bed, cock in hand, and jacked off until the thick ropes lurched out across my hand and pooled at the base of my cock. I guess I had thought that with Jan, it would be something similar.

Instead, it felt much, much more satisfying. It felt like I had done some sort of accomplishment (achievement unlocked!), some sort of reward for doing it well. I suppose I could have, maybe even should have, felt a little taken aback by Jan’s sperm shooting onto my chest and belly (it wasn’t “sperm,” per se, but I wouldn’t find that out until much later), but I didn’t.

Like Jan with her blowjob, I just held her cock in my hand, gripping firmly with my fingers just below the glans. At least, I know that the head becomes hyper-sensitive after an orgasm, and the bet thing to do is just hold the shaft tightly.

Oh, how it throbbed in my hand, though. I don’t know if my cock did that, or if I was just so used to it that I didn’t even notice. Perhaps it was something like tickling yourself - you just know your body too well to try to surprise it.

She drew in a huge breath, and then kissed me hard again. “Oh god, I needed that,” she said, breathlessly.

“You weren’t kidding!” I said. “You really do come quickly.”

“Not that quick, usually,” she admitted. “That caught me by surprise, too. But I guess I really needed it.”

Her come now coated my hand, providing a much better lubricant, and she began to slowly fuck my hand as she kissed me. “Mmmm,” she purred. “I could do this all night.”

“Only all night?” I teased.

She grinned. “Well, I suppose I could go longer - “

She cut off abruptly. I could see that the same thought was crossing her mind. More than one night? A weekend, perhaps? A week? A year? A lifetime?

Neither one of us wanted to ruin the moment. Just like before, we were on a cliff’s edge, and it was just too soon to go over. Eventually, we did profess our love to each other and yes, obviously, we got married. But at this point in time, the very first night together, absolutely nothing will guarantee that it will not happen like saying that you want it to happen.

“Please,” she said, her face growing softer and a little more intimate. “Let’s not worry about that.”

I smiled. “Agreed.”

“Could you,” she started to ask, and then looked down at my coated hand around her cock. “Could you hold onto me when you come?”

She was referring to keeping my hand holding onto her cock. For a moment I thought about cleaning up, releasing her so that I could wash up and...

And then I understood. Jan didn’t want me to clean up, she wanted to know that she would know that I was still okay with her, with this. She still needed reassurance. I started stroking her cock some more, now easier with her natural lubrication.

I started moving inside her with more rhythm, and found it easier to fuck her with her cock in my hand. It wasn’t like a door handle, or anything, but having it there helped me with just enough leverage to feel like I was deeper than I could have gotten otherwise.

Her anxiety seemed to melt back into a more relaxed arousal state. “You should know,” she said, “that I might c-c-c...”

Her cock lurched in my hand again, and a small spurt released onto my hand. It wasn’t anywhere as close to as powerful as her previous orgasm, but it was definitely an orgasm.

She smiled sheepishly. “ - come again,” she finished.

“Ok, now I’m envious,” I said, truthfully.

She grinned, coyly. Her hips began to push against me with a bit more insistence, her face changing from an impish grin to one of more determination.

“You are so incredibly hot,” I said, trying to take in the whole picture of Jan’s sexiness in my mind. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.”

Jan looked at me seriously. “I don’t want you to hold out,” she told me. “I want to make you feel like...”

She cut herself short for a moment, but never stopped moving her body against mine. Making up her mind, she confessed, “I want to make you feel like you’ve made me feel. I want to feel you come inside me.”

On the word, “feel,” she rotated her hips a little, which definitely helped ratchet up my arousal level. I began to move from the “compression” and “pulling” type of sex to a more forceful, typical thrust.

“Yes!” she said, and held onto my waist with her hands. Every thrust I made, she encouraged me with her hands and her legs, which were still drawing me into her body.

She let out a little unh! noise, and her cock jumped in my hand again. Immediately afterwards, her pussy began an all-out assault on my cock.

“Do it!” she hissed. “Paint my insides!”

Saying something like that out loud should have sent me reeling with laughter. It was so corny, so over the top, I should have lost my erection completely. Instead, it triggered something inside of me, something visceral. I imagined my own cock erupting in hot ropes of come, splashing the inside of her womb with its own white “paint.”

I imagined marking my territory with my orgasm.

With that, I exploded. For the second time that night, I felt my body open up and empty into Jan, and in response I felt her cock paint my stomach with her own “marking.”

Neither one of us moved. Our bodies were far too primed and sensitive, and the aftershocks hit us one at a time, back and forth. We convulsed against each other as the orgasms subsided, until it became even too ridiculous for the intimacy of the moment.

We laughed as we sank into each other. My cock, now completely spent after two intense orgasms, began to withdrawn and slip out of her body. Her cock, on the other hand, never seemed to lose its rigidity. Even so, I got the impression that she, too, was done for the night.

(Once again, later I would find out that she could have kept going for hours, just like she said, but she was afraid that I would feel impotent if I couldn’t keep up with her, so she realized it was time to stop).

She curled up against my chest, her arms folding in upon her breasts, but she kept her legs locked around me. We lay there, trying to get our ragged breaths to smooth out, completely soaked with sweat and come and the afterglow of great orgasms and intense emotion.

I wrapped my arms around her, and she allowed me to envelop her as I happened to look at the clock. It was just before midnight, almost exactly twelve hours after we had first met and shook hands in introduction.

Much, much later on, Jan told me her side of that night, about how she had only intended to ride me reverse cowgirl, let me come, and then kick me out of her hotel room. She had gotten away with that kind of thing before, and the guy had been none the wiser. It was only really going to be a one-night stand, and she even thought she was giving me a hint when she asked if “she was wrong.”

In fact, she really hadn’t thought about doing more than give me a blowjob. She just got carried away when she saw how I was reacting to it, and had to feel me inside her. As demure and respectable as she appeared in public, Jan loved sex (well, still does). She didn’t often get the opportunity to have it, though, so she had decided to take the risk and “get some dicking while she had the chance.” Her words.

When she was riding me, though, her back towards me and hiding who she “really” was, she began to wish that she could show me everything. The day had been so perfect, the rapport so natural, that it didn’t seem right to try to hide one of the most important aspects of what made her who she was. She wanted to turn around, cock turgid and pointing at me as if to say, “Do you see this? This is how I feel about you. This is what you do to me!”

It was a way of telling me how attracted she was to me, how I made her feel. How I got her almost to the point where she wanted to reveal everything about herself to me, in all her glory.

Her first orgasm, in fact, was because she had a mini fantasy that she did just that, and in a moment of uncontrollable lust, I reached for her and took her cock in my mouth. She imagined looking down between her breasts to see her cock completely disappeared into my mouth, watching me drink from her hose.

That was her phrase, by the way. “Drink from her hose.” It was the phrase that brought on her first orgasm as she rode me, the way that she personalized the fantasy.

She never expected that I would simply take her, though. Even though she had fantasized about it, even though revealing her true nature was what got her to orgasm, when it actually did happen she nearly panicked. Then she saw the look on my face.

I didn’t know it at the time, but she said that when I looked at her and really saw her, it wasn’t the revulsion or rejection that she had been expecting or fearing. Nor was it the lewd perversion of someone who fetishizes deformities (yes, she’s had that in the past too, but she has never wanted to talk about that particular episode in great detail. Neither one of us thought of her in those terms, so you can imagine how well that must have gone over with that guy.).

Instead, she saw a sense of wonder that she’d never seen before. To her, it was almost a look of innocence, of simply learning something new about this realm of existence. To her, I looked at her - and her penis - as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“For the first time in her life,” she told me, “you made me feel as if I was a whole being. Not just a woman made up of parts.”

She told me that years later, after we were married, I think. As I said before, I can’t imagine Jan being any other way, and I can’t imagine being with anyone who isn’t made up like Jan. It just... is.

That night, though, was special for both of us. She wanted to test me, to get me to show where the flaws where, to see if I was really the kind of guy she thought that I was. When I held onto her cock through her orgasms, never letting go, trying to hold her “just right” after each one, and not reacting in horror as she continued to release onto me, she wanted to accept me accepting her.

Okay, so that part was something she needed to explain to me, too.

Jan had so many emotional walls built up that she found it difficult to understand, let alone believe, that any man could truly accept her for who she was. She knew that she needed to keep herself from inadvertently stopping someone from accepting her, and that she needed to accept the fact that someone would actually accept her too.