Chapter 14 The Vague Definition of Virginity
The Vague Definition of Virginity
Ansel
When Pascal came back to join me in the kitchen, he wore cut-off sweats and a threadbare T-shirt. The outfit made him look younger and revealed enough of his glorious body to make me salivate.
Swallowing hard, I put my phone on the table and stepped into his embrace.
He wrapped his arms around me like we’d done it a thousand times already.
Since the moment he hugged me in front of his building last night, I hadn’t felt even a slip of anxiety.
I was calm to the marrow of my bones, more at home than I’d ever felt at my parents’ house.
“I like the way you smell,” I said. He made me feel so free and relaxed. I could say anything, do anything. I could be myself with Pascal. Maybe I could even be honest about my unrelenting sexual appetite.
“Can I kiss you now?” he asked.
Instead of answering, I tilted my face up and stretched on my toes.
He tasted of toothpaste, and we tangled our tongues together. When I pushed him against the counter, he let me, grunting into my mouth.
“Ansel, you don’t have to…”
But I was already on my knees.
His sweats hid nothing with his cock like a damn iron pole. I fumbled getting the elastic waistband over it and down. Pascal sucked in a breath and gripped the counter.
Holy…penis.
Fantasies were one thing, but this… This was bigger than what the alphas had in the porn I’d seen. Should I be afraid? I wasn’t. Just thrilled and eager.
The scent did things to me. I leaned in to breathe in more of it, my cheek brushing the length of Pascal’s cock.
Pascal’s cock. In my face.
My hand trembled when I caressed the thick shaft slowly up and down.
My fingers didn’t meet when I wrapped them around the base.
The lower part felt thicker. A knot. Of course, he’d have a knot.
One day, I’d be in heat. He’d come inside me, and the knot would grow and stretch me…
I squeezed, feeling around the small bulge.
Pascal hissed. A bead of wetness appeared at the tip of his cock.
Without thinking, I darted out my tongue to taste it.
“Sweetheart!”
With my mouth hovering over his cockhead, I glanced up. Did I do something wrong?
But Pascal gazed down at me with hunger, mouth parted, brow furrowed, eyes shining.
“Ansel.” He said my name with such reverence; my heart stuttered.
I took him in both hands, sliding them up and down, pointing his cockhead at my lips.
I know how to do this. In theory.
I opened my mouth and guided his fat cockhead inside.
Oh wow. So smooth and firm and… Oh. I swirled my tongue around and sucked on it. Mhmm. That felt nice.
I have Pascal’s cock in my mouth.
I sucked and tried taking him a little deeper. I must have been doing it right because it made him moan.
His desperate sounds traveled through my bones. I was fully hard under my bathrobe, my hole loose, but the most acute need was hunger. Not for food. I was physically hungry for Pascal. The feel of him in my mouth and my throat, the little drops sliding into my stomach. So hungry.
Stroking up and down, I sucked on the head. More liquid leaked out of the slit and onto my tongue. It felt thicker. I pulled back to taste it properly—like cream with a little bit of salt and a hint of pine. Delicious.
I took him back into my mouth, and this time I didn’t pull away.
I licked and sucked, drawing out more of Pascal’s precum, then experimented with swallowing around his cockhead.
I managed to get half of his cock into my throat before it went too deep, and I gagged.
Strangely, the gagging only aroused me more.
I teased my throat, pushing myself harder, just on the edge of what was unpleasant.
And that soothed my hunger. Good to know.
A little deeper, pressure all the way in the back, relax into it, swallow.
Oooh. I bobbed my head, feeling the firm cockhead poke in my throat, then I closed my lips firmly around the girth and sucked hard.
Pascal groaned.
“Ansel. Ansel, love… Wait.”
His voice broke. I retreated a little but refused to let go. With my lips wrapped around him, I looked up.
“I’m going to come soon if you continue like that.”
Wasn’t that the point?
I sucked until I gagged again. Working his length with both hands, I took him deep and deeper still, saliva dripping down my chin. My throat would be raw—why did that seem like the best thing?
His sounds made me feel invincible.
“Ansel!”
Oh!
The jet of cum took me by surprise. I jerked back on instinct but didn’t close my mouth, and another spurt hit my lips and tongue.
I could feel Pascal’s relief as if it were mine.
On an exhale, I closed my eyes and held on, letting him paint my face.
I stroked him and lapped at his cockhead even as it spurted more.
I was a mess, cum everywhere, on my cheeks, chin, across my nose, running down my jaw, and dripping onto my chest. There was so much of it.
My mouth overflowed with it. In my hypnotized state, it took me a while to register the taste.
When I did, my lower body throbbed.
I gulped and licked my lips, then I took Pascal’s cockhead back into my mouth and sucked hard.
“Fuck!”
He bucked, and more cum bubbled out.
Absolutely delicious.
I licked him, then scooped the streaks from my cheeks and ate them too.
Pascal gazed down at me, dark and dangerous.
His gaze flashed with something almost like anger. He grabbed me as if I weighed nothing, threw me on the table, and rucked up the bathrobe he’d lent me. I could only hold on to his shoulders as he shoved his tongue into me.
Was there anything more to life than this feeling?
I doubted it. With more pleasure, my brain would short-circuit. My body opened as if he’d pushed a button, and he licked into me deep, stroking my insides.
He made me come in seconds.
I bowed on top of the table, shouting and convulsing.
He held me by my thighs, eating me out like he was trying to get the last dollop of ice cream out of the cone.
My hole clenched and clenched, but he didn’t stop.
My legs began twitching, and my toes and fingers tingled. Would I hyperventilate? Worth it.
It was by far the longest, most intense orgasm of my life. And I could still taste his cum.
With a deep sigh, Pascal finally relented. He kissed my opening, nipping tenderly, then licked through my crease one last time before sucking up the drops of cum on my belly one by one.
The ecstatic sensations in my lower body slowly dispersed into a warm, relaxed feeling that weighed on me like a cozy blanket.
He braced his arms by my shoulders and loomed above me. I let my legs fall and dangle over the edge of the table. I’d died and been reborn during that orgasm. Which century was it anyway?
“Where in the name of the devil did you learn to suck cock like that?” Pascal asked, scowling.
I blinked. Oh yeah. I’d done that to him. “I’ve seen some videos. I didn’t like watching them much because the way the alphas treat the omegas in porn weirded me out, but it gave me some ideas. I wanted to try. Sorry. I just went with what felt good for me. Um…was it okay?”
He gave out a broken laugh. “Okay?” Shaking his head, he scooped me up and hugged me to his chest. “You sucked my brain out through my dick. I’m mashed potatoes. The way you licked my cum at the end… Fuck, Ansel, you’re dangerous.”
“So it was good?”
“It was incredible.”
I puffed up with pride. “It was incredible for me too. I didn’t think I’d like it so much. I’d love to do it again if you let me.”
“Ansel, my love, you can suck my cock whenever you please. It’s yours. I can give it to you in writing. Unlimited access, twenty-four-seven, three hundred and sixty-five days a year.”
I giggled. “Don’t you need to work?”
“I’ll find a way to smuggle you into my office and make you a little nest under my desk.”
Snorting with laughter, I hid my head in the crook of his neck and shoulder.
“I should make you breakfast now,” he said.
“I feel quite full.”
He leaned back and tapped my nose with his finger. “Cum jokes? Really? You’re awfully brazen for a virgin.”
Oh yeah, that. My cheeks burned, and my ears must have been signaling traffic.
Pascal’s expression gentled. “I’m just joking, sweetheart.” He pecked my lips. “You’re absolutely perfect. Amazing.”
“You too.”
He caressed the side of my face and put me on my feet. “Breakfast.”
I fixed us two cups of coffee while Pascal rooted in his fridge. Then he made me sit down and wait while he scrambled eggs and toasted bread. He even prepared fresh veggies, tomatoes and cucumber, and three different kinds of cheeses.
“Pascal?”
“Yes?”
“Um. About the thing you said.”
“What thing?” he asked as he sliced the cucumber.
“Me being a virgin.”
His shoulders tensed. “Oh. I just assumed, based on what you said about your first kiss. But it doesn’t matter to me. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want—”
“You were right. I hadn’t done anything before last night.” I took a sip of coffee. “Does the term virgin still apply, though? Um. Your fingers were in me, and I sucked you off.”
Pascal paused, but I couldn’t see his expression since his back was to me.
Then he shrugged and resumed slicing. “People have different definitions, but it’s of no consequence, really.
The whole concept of purity is an archaic way of thinking.
I’m sorry I alluded to it.” He sounded tense, almost nervous.
“I don’t mind. It was kinda hot when you called me that.” I liked the undercurrent of ownership when he’d been unguarded. Did Pascal feel possessive of me because he’d be my first? I liked that too.
“Okay,” he muttered after another pause.
“So let’s say I am a virgin because we haven’t had full-on intercourse.”
Pascal put the slices of cucumber into a bowl and grabbed a tomato. “Um. Sure.”
I gulped more coffee and braced myself. “Can we…remedy that soon?”
“Ouch!”