Chapter 7 First Touch…Again #5
I squirm, feeling him pressing against my opening—the slightest movement and he'd be inside me. The thought doesn’t terrify me as much as I thought it would. I'm not ready for that, but I can see myself being able to find my way to it, and soon.
Just not now.
I should have known better, though. Ren wouldn't do such a thing if he wasn't sure I was ready and that it was what I wanted.
Instead, he slides me up his body, dragging my sex up his belly, over his chest. He wriggles down while gripping me by the hips and guiding me further upward, until I'm sitting tall on my knees over his face.
I gaze down my body at him. "Ren, what are you doing?"
He grins up at me. "Hold on to the headboard, my goddess."
I grab the top of the headboard. "Okay, but what—?" His mouth meets my pussy, eliciting a ragged, shrill, shocked gasp from me. "Ren!"
I know of such things, of course. I've just never experienced it; Ren and I were too young and naive and inexperienced back then to know of things like this.
Once again, he begins slowly, merely kissing my nether lips as if kissing my mouth, and then I feel his tongue swipe up the seam, once, twice, a third time.
And then his tongue presses against my clit, and lightning strikes my core with sudden, nuclear heat.
I scream, head thrown back, breasts arched to the ceiling as my hips spasm to shove my pussy against his questing, kissing mouth.
"Oh god! Oh my god!" I cry, tears of shocked wonder leaking down my face as the trapped heat and crushing pressure pulsating low inside me shudders, shivers. "REN!"
His big, strong hands frame my ass and pull me against his mouth, guiding me into motion—ride his face, he's asking. Grind on him. Take my pleasure from him.
His hands crush my ass as I close my eyes and start slowly, nervously, and hesitantly rocking back and forth, and he growls low in his chest as if lost in thrall to the taste of me. I find a rhythm, gradually, as I tune into my body.
I feel his tongue driving against my clit, a soft wet pressing thing that sends wave after wave of pleasure through me, and I feel his hands gripping my ass, and I feel the muscles in my legs working powerfully to provide movement; I feel my tits swaying and bouncing, aching and heavy, my nipples tight and hard and beaded into diamond points, begging for touch.
I feel my core pulsing, feel heat billowing through me, feel the pressure growing and growing until I almost fear something inside me might crack, or break.
And then Ren slides one hand up and finds my breast, cupping the weight of one and rubbing his palm over my nipple until I shudder and gasp, and then does it again with the other.
This gets a quiet wail out of me as the added attention sends the pulsing, cracking pressure into a new peak of frighteningly intense crescendo.
His other hand cups my ass for a moment, pulling me against his mouth even harder, pulling me to ride him faster, to let go.
Let myself break. He'll catch me and put me back together.
That hand drifts around and he wedges it under his chin, and then I feel his fingers teasing my sex, trailing over my pussy—my legs are spread wide, and I'm split open for him, bared to him, nothing hidden, nothing closed.
He drills one finger into my channel, and I whimper at the intrusion, gasping as his mouth devours my clit with renewed intensity.
It's not enough. But he knows—I don't have to ask.
He adds a second finger, and now I'm almost full, and it feels… fuck, so good.
And now, with coordination that defies belief, Ren plays me like a violin—he thrusts his fingers in and out of my pussy, fucking me with them in slow, gentle rhythm; he strums my nipples, too, twisting and tweaking, flicking and pinching, cupping and squeezing the heavy globes of flesh, worshipping, playing; he suckles my clit past his teeth and flicks the tight bundle of nerves with his tongue.
White heat smashes through me and the pressure swells and swells until I can't breathe and my belly is taut and I'm lost to the rhythm and sensation, glutted on the myriad sensations he's giving me.
I reach down and clutch at his head, pull him hard against my pussy, and I ride his face, and I'm weeping and sobbing and laughing and groaning all at once as my orgasm finally, finally, finally shatters through me.
I lose track of everything. nothing exists but Ren and his fingers and his mouth and my climax, which rips through me like a hurricane, and I don't know if I’m screaming or crying, if I'm speaking Spanish or English or Portuguese or some fucked up pidgin of all three.
I know only the ecstasy my lover is giving me.
It is ecstasy like nothing I’ve ever felt, like nothing I could ever conceive of.
I have absolutely no clue how long my orgasm lasts—I only know that when it finally subsides and releases me from its titanic grip, I'm shaken to the core, wrenched limp.
I have no strength left—none at all. I collapse onto him, and Ren slides me down his body, shifting me off so I'm tucked against his side with my head on his chest. I hear his heart beating—bumBUMbumBUMbumBUM.
He kicks the blanket out from underneath us, lifting his ass so he can whip it out and drape it over us both.
Still gasping for breath, shaking like a leaf and wracked with tremoring aftershocks, I press as much of my body against Ren's as I can. I need more of him. I need to get closer. His skin, his heat, his hardness, his muscles—I need him. I need the shelter of his body.
I throw a leg over his legs and I feel the soft give of his testicles against my thigh, and shift my leg over his cock. It's hard and thick and long. I remember being shocked at how big it was, the first time I saw it erect. The only penises I'd seen up until then had been slack and soft…and small.
With a quiet huff of need, Ren drives his hips up, grinding against my thigh in search of relief.
"Oh, Ren,” I breathe.
At the sound of my voice, he drops his hips back to the bed and pushes my leg down. "My love."
I whimper as an aftershock makes me shudder. "Ren, that was…" I tilt my face up, kiss the underside of his jaw. "Thank you, Ren. Thank you."
"What else could I ever want but to give you pleasure? Nothing, Sophia. Nothing. The sounds you make while coming for me are the sweetest music."
I huff a laugh. "When did you become a poet?"
"I'm not. I just want you to understand how you make me feel."
"Ren, I…I want…"
He turns his face down to meet mine, kisses me. "Tell me, my love. Anything."
"I want to make you feel good, too."
"Don't think about me. I don't want or need anything but you. Just like this. Whatever needs I may have can wait."
I search myself yet again.
The fear is still there—I don't think my fear of sex will go away all at once. But I can face the fear. Lorenzo gives me the courage—I know if I try something I'm not ready for and have to stop, he won't be upset, won't make me feel guilty.
He is my safety. My shelter from the storms of my trauma.
"I love you, Ren," I whisper. "And I want to try."
His breath hitches at the first part of my statement. "Soph," he says. "I said anything, and I meant it. But whatever you do, do for you. Not for me. You stop when you need to stop. You don't explain or apologize—not for anything, no matter what. Promise me that."
I nuzzle my nose against his jaw, the fullness of my heart a soft swelling tenderness for this man. "I promise."
He rests his hand on my hip, tucks his nose and mouth against the top of my head, and inhales my scent. “Then do with me as you will, my love. I am yours."