I expected it to hurt afterwards, once I wasn’t so caught up in the moment. But all I feel is a mild discomfort, and a memory that I hope will stay with me for the rest of my life. Because oh god, it was so good. Dirty and wrong, but at the same time, so impossibly amazing.
I’m thinking about this as I lay against Trent’s chest as we catch our breaths. His arms are folded around me and I can feel his heart beat slow and heavy beneath my cheek. Reality is incredible. Because what did I do to deserve this handsome man? I fight the urge to pinch myself awake.
And languorously, the massive male stirs.
“Are you okay?” comes Trent’s deep, gentle voice from above my head as it resonates in his chest. He can’t see me smiling and I feel him tense up. “Janie?” he continues. I look up at him and find his blue eyes, clouded with worry.
“Yes, I’m okay,” I answer. I see his eyes crease with relief. Creases that tell of our age difference, but also creases that I find incredibly attractive.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks, smoothing the hair from my forehead. I shake my head, still smiling.
“No, it was incredible,” is my soft admission. “Although, um, I - I would still like you to take my virginity?” I ask timidly. “You know, the other way.” This is ridiculous. I wonder how I can still feel shy about him fucking me in the pussy after what I just let him do. But so be it. Trent averts his gaze and holds me closer.
“Maybe someday,” he says thoughtfully. My eyes are startled. What? What does that mean? What guy only does you in the ass, and not the pussy? That’s strange. But I let him cradle me because there are so many questions running through my head.
“Trent,” I say softly, craning my head to look up at him. “Are you really twice my age?”
His growl confirms this.
“Where were you living before you moved here?” He doesn’t answer, but I’m feeling brave, so I sit up on my elbow and look up at his face, with that strong jaw line and serious eyes. “What do you do?” I try again.
He meets my eyes and smiles finally.
“I’m a gardener,” he says lightly. I smile and he looks confused.
“What?” he asks suspiciously.
“Nothing. I like it,” I answer.
“You like that I’m a gardener? Why?” he asks, still a little defensive.
I shrug, my boobs bouncing a little with the movement.
“I appreciate hard, honest work, I guess. I think it’s hot that you work with your hands,” I add.
Trent looks surprised.
“Really?” he asks skeptically. “Most girls want white-collar guys like bankers and lawyers, that sort of thing. What’s wrong with you, kid?” he growls gently, and I enjoy the little spark I see in his eyes.
I shrug again.
“I guess I understand it,” are my words. “Because I love food preparation. Making a meal. Baking, pan-frying, kneading dough, all that good stuff. I wish I could earn a living working with my hands.”
Trent looks at me, genuinely curious.
“Why wouldn’t you be able to?” he asks. “There’s plenty of work for someone who loves to cook.” That causes emotion to run over my soul and I make a wry face.
“My mom never went to college,” I answer. “She never educated herself, and I suppose she wants better for me. You know, working in an office and all that kind of stuff.”
Trent tilts his head thoughtfully, those blue eyes insightful.
“Did she save up money for your college fund?” he asks. My stomach clenches up the way it always does whenever my family's financial situation comes up because that’s the reason why I’m such a studious, hard-working wallflower.
“No,” I say carefully. “It’s not that she doesn’t want to. It’s that Vivian doesn’t make enough to save for my college education. But it’s okay because my grades are pretty good, so I’m hoping I can get a scholarship.”
Trent nods, understanding. “Sounds to me like you’re in control of your future. Sounds to me like you can choose what to do with your career path, whether it’s working with your hands or otherwise,” he growls. But I don't want to talk about it, and lay back down on his chest as a way to change the subject. His big hand gently strokes my curls.
“You’re not like other girls, are you, Janie?” Trent asks thoughtfully. I don’t know what he means by this, and I’m afraid to ask. “I respect your outlook on life,” he answers as if reading my mind. “I like that you appreciate hard, honest work,” he adds. A few seconds go by, and then he adds in a softer tone: “It makes me feel like I can be proud of what I do.”
These words give me butterflies and I freeze in his arms, letting the compliment wash over me.
Then I sit up on my elbow again and look him in the eye. “Of course you can be proud of yourself,” I say, and I give him a gentle kiss on the lips. He looks at me like I’m a goddess, his eyes full of something I’ve never seen before.
“Janie,” he whispers, those big hands reaching to cup my face gently. “There’s something I have to tell you,” he says, growing suddenly serious. I nod, listening, but then he stops. I can see the hesitation in that massive form, his eyes flickering slightly.
“What is it?” I ask encouragingly. He looks away, pulling me back into his strong arms.
“Never mind,” comes that rough growl. “I’ll tell you later.”
And it’s been such a huge day of firsts that I’m content to let him simply hold me. We lay together on the couch companionably, letting the hazy Saturday afternoon pass by. Shadows lengthen across the floor as we trade kisses, nuzzling and caressing one another. The muted laughter of children sounds outside, and I revel in my intense happiness. Because there’s something indescribable about this moment. Not only did I have mind-blowing sex for the first time, but I’m being cradled by my lover as well. There’s an amazing connection running between our souls, like an invisible string binding us together. And as if he can hear my thoughts, Trent chuckles deep in his chest.
“What?” I ask lazily, high on my own contentment.
“It’s funny,” he starts, his voice low and gentle. “I don’t think I’ve ever just been with someone like this, just lying around for hours without talking.” His hands run softly through my hair and I close my eyes in enjoyment.
“Me neither,” I whisper. “It feels so natural.” Trent puts his index finger under my chin and gently forces my head up to look at him. His face is gentle, that normally furrowed brow relaxed.
“I feel like I’ve known you for years, Janie. Even though we only just met this afternoon.” I smile, suddenly feeling cheeky.
“Well, technically we’ve known each other a bit longer,” is my playful retort. Trent suddenly tickles me, making me laugh.
“You know what I mean,” he growls before pulling me back towards him. But then the man becomes serious. “You should go home soon. You don’t want your mom to find you here,” he says, suddenly somber. I know he’s right. Pushing myself up and away from him, I sigh. God. Home. Even though it’s only thirty feet away, I wish I could stay right here forever.
I turn my head back to where Trent’s relaxing, his perfect tattooed arm supporting his head.
“But what about us?” I ask softly. And the furrow of his brow is back. He looks away. “Can I see you again? Like this, I mean?”
He doesn’t answer for a moment before looking away.
“I don’t know, Janie,” are his words. “This was never supposed to happen.”
My heart plummets, face flushing hot with shame. And I shouldn’t say the words, but I can’t help it.
“Don’t you want me?” I whisper. “Or is there something wrong?”
His chin snaps my way, that blue gaze flashing as he sits up, grasping my hand firmly.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetheart,” he rasps hoarsely. “I want you more than anything.”
My heart shakes again.
“So what’s the problem?” is my pathetic mewl.
“I’m afraid of-,” he starts, but doesn’t continue.
“Of what?” I urge him. He sighs heavily.
“Of ruining you, sweetheart. That’s why I didn’t want to take your virginity.” I smile, a little relieved.
“But we did it in my back door,” I mewl, enjoying the way those alien words roll off my tongue. “Isn’t that even worse?”
“Janie,” he says in a warning tone. “You have no idea. You’re young.”
But I shake my head stubbornly.
“What? It’s true. And I loved every second of it. If I can trust you with my behind, why wouldn’t I trust you with taking my virginity? Why won't you trust yourself?”
He smiles grimly and rubs my thigh.
“Maybe I’ll tell you someday, sweetheart, but not now.”
I pout prettily before sticking out my tongue at the handsome man. And then with a laugh, I leap off his lap and run out of his house and over to mine, with a merry wave. I didn’t manage to convince Trent to pop my pussy cherry, but I sense he is amenable. And as I lie on my bed, playing over that entire afternoon in my head, a feeling of awe and deep satisfaction runs over my frame. Because there’s something amazing about our strange, sudden connection that’s so right … and I desperately don’t want it to end.