Holiday #195

She wrapped her legs around his thighs, pulling him in closer. "Don't worry. Internal protection mechanisms have been deployed for a couple months now."

Pete realized she must have been planning something like this for a while now, probably tired of waiting and hoping that he would break their awkward stalemate. Had he missed signals earlier? Perhaps. That was a conversation for another time, though.

Amy reached down between them and guided his cock to the proper spot. She wiggled him around a little bit, a slippery stimulation right on the tip that was almost painful in its intensity. When she stopped and held him still, he gently thrust forward. The folds parted to his penetration, a smooth and constant pressure enveloping him. In the back of his mind, his subconscious' cheering section went crazy -- he'd just crossed the line between virgin and...non-virgin. As wonderful as that distinction was, it was a hundred times better that it was with Amy and not rushed or frantic or (too) awkward. It was just right. Perfect.

He nudged just a little further in, perhaps an inch or two, and met Amy's eyes. Her smile beckoned him onward. There was no doubt that she was sharing many of the same feelings as him.

"You don't have to worry about hurting me," she whispered. "Chuck took care of that a while ago."

It took Pete a moment to process what she'd implied about her toy and he blushed and laughed all at once. Even now, on the cusp of that magical union, she was still Amy through and through. He pushed in further until he could go no deeper, and the sensation of being completely engulfed in her was sheer bliss.

"Lucky bastard," he said, settling more of weight on Amy and kissing her.

Amy purred. "I think we're the lucky ones right now."

Pete, slowly at first and building as he became comfortable and familiar with the process, made love to his best friend. No cheesy porn music started playing -- only the chirps of birds and insects serenaded them. They didn't try half a dozen different acrobatic positions, each with an increasing degree of difficulty sufficient to test an Olympian's resolve -- missionary all the way, baby! At the end, there was no earth-shattering simultaneous climax -- Pete came and Amy just rode a pleasant wave, after which she chastised him for his complete failure and demanded he keep at it every single day (or several times a day) until he got it right. He gracefully accepted his punishment. And when they were finished, cuddled side-by-side, they were not ready for an after-glow romantic close-up -- hair was disheveled, bodies were blotchy red with sun and exertion, and they dripped in sweat. A happier couple was nowhere to be found on this 195th holiday at that very moment.

"You know, I think this was better than National Burrito Day," Amy said, running her hand over Pete's chest while settling her head on his shoulder.

"Canadian Maple Syrup Day might have given it a run for its money, if not for the weather cooperating," Pete said, brushing the back of her hand.

"Eat Ice Cream for Breakfast Day. Hard to top that, but I think this might have edged it out, too."

"Close. Very close. So, what's tomorrow?"

Pete could feel Amy grin. "Oh, tomorrow's easy. You'll love it."

"Let me guess. Repeat Yesterday Day? I'd be down with that."

Amy chuckled. "Oh, I can't imagine why. But, sadly, no."

"Oral Sex Awareness Day?"

"Nope. But if there isn't one, we might have to start it."

"Don't Get Out of Bed Day?"

Amy nudged him in the ribs. "One Track Mind Day?"

"Fine, I give up. What is it?"

"Seriously, it's our day. It's perfect."

"So tell me already." Pete twisted, giving her an impatient look.

"Be a Dork Day." She, somehow, managed to maintain a straight face.

"You're so full of it."

Amy grabbed her phone, pulled it up, and showed him. Sure enough, right behind National Nude Day was July 15 -- Be a Dork Day.

"Well, okay then. I'm calling shotgun!"