Chapter 27 NANCY
I ROSE GROGGY AND TRUDGED TO THE LOO, needing to scrub away the fuzz clinging to my teeth. It wasn’t until my reddened eyes stared back in the mirror that the previous night flashed through my mind.
Oh crap!
I’d asked Alex to stay over. We’d started to get it on.
It was scorching hot, and I was into every one of the X-rated things he was doing to me.
But, as much as I willed myself to let go, fear held me back.
Though in the end, Alex’s persistence won out.
When I came, it was like a fireworks display—spectacular and violent.
The surrender of it was the most incredible, all-consuming, and petrifyingly vulnerable feeling I could imagine.
While I’d experienced an orgasm before, it was of my own accord.
I’d masturbated a lot since meeting Alex, even picking up a rabbit from Ann Summers, which the candid sales assistant said was ideal for beginners.
I thought that practising with a sex aid would prepare me enough to be convincing for my first consensual sexual encounter, but clearly, I’d been naive.
When he’d pushed me to let go, I’d cried.
I hadn’t realised how much pain was still inside me—but there was so much pleasure too.
It was a dissonance I couldn’t resolve when the stakes of our first time felt so high.
We’d held off countless times over the previous week, and that delayed gratification had become a tinder box set alight.
All at once, I felt released and abandoned.
It had left me adrift. And now I’d have to face his questions.
No doubt he thought I was an emotional wreck after my behaviour over the last twenty-four hours.
I’d had a panic attack at lunch, blew hot and cold through the evening, and finally, cried when he went down on me.
I’d made such a drama of the whole thing, he didn’t even want to sleep in the same bed with me.
The thoughts frayed my heart along with my nerves, and I wondered if he’d already left.
Perhaps it’s best to pack my things and go.
I sat on the end of the bed, gathering myself.
If he's finished with me, I’m not gonna cry.
Resolved, I pulled on a pair of leggings, drew a deep breath, and left to face the music.
To my surprise, Alex was in the kitchen, barefoot and wearing the same jeans and polo shirt as the night before. He looked shattered. Given my current state of greasy skin, frizzy hair, and a worn Clash band tee, I didn’t know whether to feel guilty or grateful.
“Morning,” he called in a friendly tone.
I hesitated, then walked sheepishly over, not brave enough to say any more than “morning” in return and saw the foodstuffs he had arranged next to a blender.
“I was hoping to have this ready before you got up, but I’m afraid you’ll have to see the butcher at work.
” I gave him a little smile, glad he was chatty and upbeat.
“This is my renowned hangover cure. It can work wonders. I experimented on David throughout university to ensure I got the recipe perfect.” He cracked a grin along with an egg and proceeded to add ice, a handful of blueberries, cinnamon, Tabasco, a couple of glugs of spiced rum, and a can of black coffee into the blender.
I grimaced at the mixture. “It tastes better than it looks, I promise.” He blitzed it and poured the concoction into two tumblers.
“Let’s sit down. I want to talk to you.”
I gulped and followed him to the opposite sofa to our third base antics, readying myself for his break-up speech. He offered me a glass. I studied the unappetising brown liquid, but Alex drank his unfazed, so I risked it. It wasn’t that bad.
“How do you feel this morning?” he said, his accompanying smile warm and familiar.
“Okay,” I murmured. “Utterly mortified, but okay.”
He placed a hand on my knee. “You needn’t feel mortified. We agreed to take things slowly, but we went further last night, and perhaps it was too far too fast.” I shook my head, baffled. “It’s okay, Nancy. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”
“But…I loved it.”
“You…did?”
“I know it didn’t seem that way in the end,” I said, releasing a long exhale.
“Last night was a big deal for me. I underestimated how much, but believe me when I say it was incredible. For me anyway, which sounds so selfish—” Alex kissed me.
I was so surprised it took me a moment before I threaded my fingers into his hair and joined him in relief.
He moved back, holding my face. “I hope it’s okay to ask this, and please don’t take it the wrong way because it’s fine no matter the answer, but…are you a virgin?”
Shit. How on earth do I answer that question?
Although the plain fact was no, I wasn’t; in many ways, I still felt like a virgin. But, in the end, I shook my head.
“Okay… And have you ever had an orgasm before?”
“Yes,” I managed.
“And…has anyone else given you an orgasm?”
Finally, something I knew I could answer with absolute clarity. “No.”
Alex’s expression became soft, as if he’d just received a puppy. “You trusted me with that?”
I squeezed his hand and gave him a wide smile. “Yes. And it was incredible.”
He couldn’t hide his satisfaction. “Well then, we’ll definitely do more of that.” He paused for a moment, then pulled out his phone. I watched him with confusion as he loaded up an app and handed it to me.
On the display were a set of test results from a recent sexual health screening showing Alex was clean. I looked up, more than a little shocked he’d just put that out there, but then I realised showing me this was a peace offering to his probing questions. A concrete way I could trust him.
I’d had these tests done too after what happened, but it was so long ago I didn’t have the results. “I’m clean too, but I don’t have any proof.”
“That’s okay,” he said gently. “I trust you.”
He trusts me? It was self-centred, maybe, but I honestly hadn’t thought about trust going the other way before. Alex was right, though; this was a two-way street. “I have the coil fitted,” I said before thinking it through, then cringed internally. “I mean, I wasn’t saying we should—”
“I know,” he smiled. “I appreciate you sharing that.”
I eyed him while I finished the cure, feeling buzzed from the caffeine and soothed by the rum. “I feel pretty bad that you were left unsatisfied last night. That goes against my belief in sexual equality.” My straight face made him laugh. “Plus, you got to see me, but I’m still in the dark.”
He held my provocative gaze, then rose and held out his hand. “I could do with a shower. Care to join me?”
I hesitated, then took it, staggered by the last few minutes.
Strangely, there was no tension as we stood in the en suite, Alex waiting for me to make the first move. I ran my hands down the firm ridges of his chest to the base of his shirt, lifting it away to reveal the top of his hip grooves peeking over black Dolce & Gabbana trunks.
In wonder, my fingers glided over the taut skin of his six-pack to the short chestnut hair covering his pecs. He looked like an Olympian: lithe, worked, ripped, and marked with half a dozen little raised scars, all with the same small indents. The same shape as on his cheek.
Who’d done this to him? Was it at school, or at home? Was that why he preferred boarding to day school?
When I met his gaze, he was filled with a rumbling desire, yet he made no move, allowing me to explore him however I liked.
I took my time, circling his skin, rising and falling across each taut ridge as I slowly stroked down to his belt buckle.
The clasp was so stiff I had to wrench it back to free it.
Carnal satisfaction coursed through me as his stomach flexed to my touch and his hands fisted at his sides as if holding back was a monumental effort.
After fumbling like the novice I was with each buttonhole of his jeans, I ran my hands around to his back and shifted the denim over his boxer briefs, enjoying the feel of his firm behind in my palms. His jeans crumpled on the floor, and he stepped out, then kicked them away. I stood back and took him in.
Alex had a rower’s physique from head to toe. Strong and muscular but agile and flexible too—built to work like a piston on and off the water. I felt a blush riding up my neck.
“Is this okay?” he said uncertainly, and my gaze met his, amused. Reassured, he moved in and lifted my tee, his finger poking through one of the many holes—probably a cigarette burn. “How old is this?”
“From the seventies, I think. Gran was a punk rocker.”
Alex’s eyes met mine. “I’m dating the granddaughter of an anarchist?”
“What will the peerage think?” My innocent expression was met with a sultry smile.
He cast the tee aside, then stroked his hand down my shoulder blade, reaching the clasp of my bra. “Fuck what anyone thinks.” He unhooked it and slipped away the straps to take in my breasts for the first time, the top of the right already claimed with a big red hickey.
I tried not to wince as he checked me out.
I’d always thought my boobs were too large, and the left was a little bigger than the right, but the way he gazed at me like I was perfectly ripe filled me with a soothing warmth.
I closed my eyes and mewed as he ran his broad hands over the silken skin, teasing my nipples between spread fingers.
He followed the curve down my flank, reaching the band of my high-waisted leggings.
Kneeling, he hooked his thumbs and slowly bared me.
I kept my eyes shut tight. I’d never stood naked in the natural light in front of anyone, not even in the girls’ changing room.
Opting instead for the privacy of a toilet cubicle.
Though Alex had seen my body the night before, I’d felt hidden in the darkness, but here, every bump and crease was on show.
My stretch marks divulged the weight I’d put on in my teens and dropped half by twenty.
The protective layer that kept the boys’ gazes at bay, if not their comments.
And then there was the little x branded on my upper thigh as a constant reminder.
As if reading my thoughts, Alex rested his hand over the scar. I tensed, praying he wouldn’t ask, but the only words he spoke as his palm soothed my skin were, “You’re exquisite.”
I opened my eyes and met his warm smile.
Alex rose and placed my hands along the band of his boxer briefs. I ran my thumbs back and forth, dipping into the fold of elastic. Then I bared him.
A deep V drew my eyes down his body to a long, broad, and very hard cock. It was jaw-droppingly impressive and perfectly proportioned to the rest of him. I drew a deep breath and exhaled a satisfied huff.
Alex gave me a lopsided smile and interlinked our fingers, pulling me under the warm rain.
He poured a palmful of my honey-scented shower cream and began to wash me, his touch gentle and loving, a broad smile across his face as he caressed my skin.
Mesmerised by his easy intimacy, I joined him, running suds over his chest, along his neck, and down his arms, examining each of the little scars.
I considered asking him about them, but it felt too private. It was up to him to share when he wanted to. And besides, I didn’t want any questions in return. I couldn’t tell him even if he asked. My gaze rose to meet two smoky eyes staring at me, then he kissed me beneath the rain.
We explored each other in relaxed warmth. When our passion built higher, I slid my hand down to his erection. I’d never handled a man before. The silky skin shifting smoothly over vein-ridged muscle felt like nothing else.
He traced his fingers down my arm and covered my hand, showing me the exact pressure he liked. I slid back and forth, and he let go, moaning deep. “That’s it, nice and slow, bella, you’re doing so well.”
How was it possible to have this much control over his pleasure?
Alex kneaded my breasts, teasing my nipples to a hard point.
Then he ran his hand down between my legs.
When I closed my eyes and begged for more, he slipped a finger inside me, then a second.
My head fell back, my grip on him tightening.
I joined his rhythm as we made love with our hands, but the same pang of fear was lurking in the back of my mind, holding my climax at bay.
“Concentrate on how it feels,” he whispered.
My eyes fluttered open to meet his shadowy gaze. I pumped faster, watching the change in his expression as heat and need took over. With my last strokes, vulnerability stalked his face. His seed hit my stomach, then washed away in the shower. It was the tonic I needed.
With his arm wrapped around me, he thrust in a third finger, spreading me wide, his thumb continuing to circle my clit. My vision misted, and I gripped his shoulders, climaxing with a deep groan.
I had no idea how long we stood there, exposed under the rainfall. It didn’t matter. I was just relieved I hadn’t shed another tear.