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Sam
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NOTHING ELSE MATTERED anymore. I couldn’t stop myself. This was a moment I had thought of for so long, and here it was, there for me to take. To show her how much I cared for her with every touch. To kiss her skin and taste her on my lips. To wrap her body around me, to be inside her. It was my chance. I had to take it.
The heaviness of her breast in my hand made my body tighten, and as she undid the rope of her robe, I knew there was nothing stopping me anymore. A team of wild horses couldn’t keep me away from her now. The robe pooled at her feet, and I gazed at her naked body. Then I pulled her to me and carried her to the bed, our lips crushed together.
I laid her down on the bed and stood, pulling my shirt over my head. I tossed it behind me as she sat up and yanked on the button of my jeans, pressing her lips to my chest. I felt like I was going to explode as she pulled down on my waistband and my cock sprung out, harder than I had ever felt. She paused, leaning back and staring at it, then looking up into my eyes.
Slowly, her hand slid over the base and wrapped her fingers around it. Slowly, she began stroking it toward her.
“Like this?” she asked. “Does this feel good?”
“Yes,” I said, the words tumbling from my lips, almost a grumble more than actual speaking.
“What about this?”
Her tongue flickered out and licked the tip of the head. I groaned at the sensation of her warm tongue on my cock. She grinned and did it again, swirling it around the head before taking me into her mouth. It was like she knew me already. Instinctively, she pulled me into her mouth and sucked me, stroking me as she did, before pulling back again.
“Yes,” I said. “Like that.”
“It’s so big,” she said. “I can’t fit it all.”
“That’s okay. It feels good.”
Lowering her head, she went back to it, and I slid my hands down to play with her breasts. She moaned at my touch, and the vibration on my cock sent tingles down my spine. She increased her speed, and I felt myself near the brink of a climax before I pulled her away. She looked almost disappointed as she realized I was stopping her.
“Not yet,” I said. “Not yet. Lay down.”
Grinning, she pushed herself back a bit and laid her head down on the pillow of the bed. I crawled onto the bed and pressed my lips to her neck and then moved down slowly. I worshipped her body with my lips, my tongue. I slid her nipples into my mouth and swirled my tongue around them, pulling them taut as she gasped. Then I trailed my kisses down her center until I reached her soft mound. Her smell was intoxicating, and I wanted to taste her. I looked up and saw her watching me, her breath stuttering as she did.
I flicked out my tongue and slid it across her clit, causing her to cry out and squirm. I grinned at that reaction. I loved seeing her experience that touch, especially knowing it was for the first time. And that it was me.
I swirled my tongue around her clit and let one finger slide inside her. She clenched and grabbed my hair as her head fell back, and the veins of her neck stood out as she curled into the sensation. Her thighs tightened over my ears as I flicked my tongue over her and penetrated her deeply with my finger. Suddenly, she shouted out in what was almost a howl, and her body squeezed around me. Her toes curled and pinched down on my shoulders as her hips rose.
As she came, her body shook, and she pulled my face down harder over her. I held my tongue down over her clit and sucked it. She pulled me by my hair until I realized she was trying to get me to rise up off her. I did, and she pulled me into a kiss, her thighs opening and letting me fall between them. The heat of her soaking wet pussy warmed my lower belly, and my cock strained to reach her.
“Please,” she said. “I want you inside of me.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, the last gasp of control asserting itself before there was truly no turning back.
“Please. Sam, please.”
With that, I raised my hips until the head of my staff was pressed against her opening. With one mighty thrust, I buried myself inside her. She cried out in my ear and then went silent. I looked down into her eyes and saw them big and round. She looked down at her tightened belly, down below to where I was inside her, deeply stretching her, exploring her for the first time that any man had ever been.
“You okay?” I whispered.
“Yes,” she whispered back and grinned suddenly. “Don’t stop.”
I moaned as I held myself deeply inside her. Her pussy throbbed over my cock as she relaxed to make room for me. Gently, I rocked a little bit, getting deeper each time. Her legs curled around me, the tips of her toes falling behind my knees. I slid one arm underneath her, and the other grasped her breast. Slowly, she seemed to relax into the rhythm, and I rocked faster. Our eyes stayed either locked on each other’s or watching our bodies mold together.
Time drifted into meaninglessness, and our bodies were soon covered in sweat as we touched each other, kissed each other, experienced each other to the carnal level that neither of us had ever experienced. It was revelatory. Like a drug, I felt lost in a haze of the moment, unable to think of anything other than her and the sensation of our bodies melding together.
She rolled on top of me, and I grasped her hips as she rocked on top of me, her hands pressed into my chest, pushing her breasts out as they bounced while she rode me. I let my head rest on the pillow as I watched her writhe in pleasure. She bounced up and down, getting faster as one hand reached around to grasp her ass, the other sliding up to hold her breast.
I was getting close, and I’m pretty sure so was she. I could feel her clenching, her eyes shutting tight and her head falling back, her hair falling behind her and brushing my thighs. I sat up and pressed my face into her chest. She reached one of her hands back and cupped my balls as she rode me, her voice rising higher and higher with each thrust down.
Suddenly, I pitched forward, throwing her on her back as she wrapped her arms around me tightly, digging her fingernails into my back. I thrust into her with everything I had, slamming into her with a ferocity of passion, a primal need for release. She cried out as she came, her thighs shaking and clenching over my hips. I exploded into her, throbbing and curling into her body as I lost strength in my arms and legs, emptying myself into her as her body milked me.
We collapsed together in the bed and fell into a deep sleep. I dreamed of a life with her, of nights in bed just like this one. Of days waking up to the smell of breakfast and the sound of children. Of marital bliss and boredom and the cross between the two. I dreamed of Rae being my wife.
And woke up to an empty bed.
I sat up and reached for my pants, just off the bed. My phone was inside, and I looked at the clock. It was already eleven. Rae must have had a day shift, because her work outfit that had been hanging up on the door was gone.
Yawning, I slid out of the bed and got dressed before making the bed for her. Then I slipped out, locking the door as I left, and got in my car to go home and shower. I didn’t really want to. I wanted to keep the smell of her on my skin for as long as possible, but I knew it would only make things harder.
I couldn’t resist her last night. I tried, but I couldn’t do it. But I had to remember it was a onetime thing. She wanted to have experience before she slept with that asshole Trevor, and she trusted me. She wanted to share that experience with me because of that trust. That was it. It was simply another page in the book of our friendship. Emphasis on friend.
I should have been over-the-moon happy. This was Rae. I’d slept with the girl of my dreams. My literal dreams. The girl that I had been in love with as far as I could remember. The only girl that I only ever wanted to be with. And I did it. We shared the bed and each other’s bodies. It was incredible too.
But knowing that she only did it so she could be experienced for Trevor just sucked the joy right out of it.
When I got home, I had a string of text messages from the guys asking what happened and why I didn’t show up last night. I couldn’t give them the truth, but I could offer penance. It would be good for me to get some aggression out and do some thrash music later that evening. I had a day off, and some video games and screaming into a mic while I shredded the guitar sounded right.
I showered and got into the most comfortable lay-around clothes I had in my possession. Then I ordered a pizza, grabbed a pack of sodas, and made myself comfortable on the couch. I needed to blow some shit up in a video game and not think for a while.
***
AFTER A DAY OF DOING almost nothing that didn’t involve the couch, the microwave, or the bathroom, I got up and got dressed for band practice. As I headed over, I realized that I just wasn’t feeling it. As excited as I should be, and as dedicated as I normally was to practicing, I felt like I just wanted to go home and go to bed. Or go for a run. Or something. I didn’t know. It was frustrating. Nothing sounded good.
I forced myself into the storage unit and plugged in my guitar. I wasn’t talking to anyone and just launched into the opening riffs of one of our songs, letting everyone else just catch up with me. I didn’t bother singing. I didn’t feel like it.
But I was missing chords. I was flubbing whole sections of songs that I wrote. After the fourth time that I fucked up my own guitar solo, I yanked the cord out of the amp and stomped over to my guitar bag. As I was shoving it in, Chris came up behind me.
“Hey, man, what’s going on with you today? You’ve been missing shit all evening, and now you’re packing up?”
“Just play the fucking show without me,” I grumbled. “I quit.”
I was so angry I couldn’t see straight as I stomped out of the space to my car. Chris called for me, but no one chased me. As I peeled out of the parking lot, I drove mindlessly to the gym. I wasn’t even wearing workout clothes, but I didn’t care. I just walked right in, dropped my coat in the locker, and headed for the punching bag.
I wailed on it until my knuckles were bloody and I was leaving marks on the bag. One of the old men who worked at the gym was watching me as I threw every bit of my energy into the punches. Eventually, there was nothing left and my last punch barely moved the bag at all. I collapsed on my knees in front of the bag and tried to breathe.
The old man stepped up close and sprayed the bag, wiping it down while I tried to get control of my breathing. Then he put a hand on my shoulder, patting it twice.
“It’ll be alright, kid,” he said. “Whatever it is. It’ll be alright.”
With that, he walked away, and I hung my head, trying not to let my anger and pain manifest into tears.
