16. La prima volta
16
La prima volta
The First Time
Bridget
T he hot water feels good on my skin and I stay under the spray for much longer than I need to. I eventually turn off the water, painfully aware that the only thing separating me in my nakedness from Omar is the tiny wooden door leading to the bedroom.
If we’re lucky we can get divorced sooner rather than later, assuming the mechanic can fix the car tomorrow. Let's just hope it's not too bad and the trip isn’t cut short. The thought causes me anxiety.
No, I’m not ready for this to be over. I won't let it be the end of the trip. If the car’s broken I’ll rent one. Yes, I’ll just have a little less money left from Ruth, but that’s okay. There, fixed it.
I pull on leggings and a tank top. Really, I should be wearing a bra as well but I can't sleep in one. Omar's eventually going to see the outline of my droopy boobies eventually, might as well scare him off right now. I wonder if he dates women his age or younger, twenty something girlies with perky tits. How does he feel about older women? And there’s my mind in the gutter again. Enough!
I unlock the bathroom door and slip back into the bedroom. Omar is already in bed and the only light in the room comes from the small lamp on my nightstand. I can't help but steal glances at Omar's muscular frame outlined by his T-shirt. The way he’s casually lounging on the bed sends shivers down my spine.
Omar rolls to his side, facing away from me. And I don't know if he's doing that to be polite or to make a point.
“Are you asleep?” I whisper.
“No, not yet.”
“Do you think they're going to be able to fix the car tomorrow?”
“I don't know. I had a look and I can't see what the issue is and that makes it difficult to say how serious it is.” His voice is muffled.
“Oh okay.” I slide under the sheets and pull them up to my shoulders. Why didn't we ask for a second blanket?
We’re on separate sides of the bed, facing away from each other.
“Night,” I whisper into the room.
“Night,” he replies. I reach to switch the lamp off but can’t find the button. I tap the lamp thinking maybe it’s one of the weird ones where you touch it’s base and it turns off. Nothing. I find the end of the cable nearest to the lamp base and let my fingers slide along it to find the switch. Nothing.
“How do you switch this fucking thing off? I ask frustrated.
“The switch is at the lightbulb,” Omar replies.
“Where? I can’t find it.”
“Bri!” He turns and leans over me. I lie flat on the mattress to give him space. I’m caged under him as he reaches out for the lamp, fiddles with it and switches it off.
The only light in the room is from the moon shining through the window. Omar hovers over me, his dark eyes are fixed on mine. I can feel the warmth of his body seep into me.
He lifts his hand and gently strokes a strand of hair from my face. His fingers brush my skin, soft but electric, sending a shiver through me. His eyes meet mine, and it feels like he's asking a question without saying a word. The space between us feels smaller and smaller, and somehow, it’s like the world has slowed down, dragging out this moment and making my heart race.
He leans in lower, his breath warm against my cheek, and his body aligned perfectly with mine. I’m barely thinking straight as my fingers grab hold of his T-Shirt. I want this so much. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to kiss a man more than Omar.
But just as his lips are close enough to kiss, he mumbles, “Sorry,” and rolls off me before turning and facing away from me again. Noooo, come back! My whole body screams. If I were braver, I’d take what I need from him but I’m not. I try to calm my breathing. Maybe it’s for the best. No, not maybe! It’s definitely for the better despite the formal complaint my vajayjay is planning to file with the European Court of Human Rights.
But no matter how hard I try to behave, as the silence falls over us my mind begins to wander to forbidden thoughts. What would it be like to feel his lips on mine? To run my fingers through his thick black hair? My heart speeds up again at the idea of crossing that line with him.
I draw in a sharp, steadying breath and scold myself for letting those fantasies invade my thoughts. This is dangerous territory; I will not jeopardize this trip just because I’m horny as hell. But no matter how hard I try to suppress these thoughts they continue to bubble beneath the surface.
I hear Omar's steady breathing next to me as he starts to fall asleep. This might be my only chance to indulge in these feelings without consequence; he'll never know what's going through my mind.
With cautious movements under the covers, I inch my hand lower until I can reach between my thighs. Heat radiates from within me as I press against the fabric of my leggings. Closing my eyes, I imagine its Omar's touch igniting this fire.
I let out a quiet gasp at the surge of pleasure that courses through me. The sound startles me, and I freeze, heart pounding in my chest. But when I steal a glance at Omar over my shoulder he’s the same peaceful shadow as before. Relief washes over me, giving me the courage to continue with a bit of self-love.
I slip my hand beneath my waistband with bolder movements, finally feeling the silky wetness that’s been building. A moan escapes my lips as I circle my fingertips around my sensitive clit. I press my face into the pillow to stifle any noises giving me away.
The room feels hot and heavy as the pleasure intensifies with each stroke. I can't believe I'm actually doing this beside him, but the thought only heightens the excitement coursing through me. The line between fantasy and reality blurs as my imagination runs wild.
Lost in my delicious thoughts, I don't notice that Omar's breathing has changed until it's too late.
Suddenly there’s movement behind me as he turns towards me.
My hand freezes mid-motion as panic surges through me. Time stands still as I wait for words or actions—will he be angry? Disgusted? Or maybe he'll pretend like it never happened.
To my surprise, I feel his fingers gently stroking over my hip until they land on the waistband of my leggings.
He leans over me and whispers in my ear, “Do you want this?”
My mind races with uncertainty and desire. Do I? Who am I kidding? The minute he touched me I was his.
“Yes,” I reply in a voice that is surprisingly seductive. I didn’t know I had that in me.
A jolt of electricity shoots through my body as Omar's hand joins mine. I feel a rush of confidence and any embarrassment is wiped out by the wave of desire for him. This is what I've wanted and it feels like the most natural thing in the world for Omar to take over.
His palm is rough against my skin and he rubs slowly, taking his time as he finds the perfect rhythm to drive me closer to my release. The contrast between my rushed, desperate movements and his deliberate action is startling. It's as if he's savouring every moment, relishing the power he holds over me.
“I want to see you,” I sigh and flick the switch I had trouble finding earlier.
Omar's eyes are fixed on me and the intensity in his gaze sends shivers down my spine. His other hand sneaks under my top to my chest and I feel his fingers gently wrap around my nipple, tugging until they pebble under his touch. I arch my back, pushing my breast into his hand as a low moan escapes my lips. I lie there, unable to think or breathe properly.
"You're so beautiful, Bri," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I’ve been trying not to look at you like that, to keep this professional. I know I shouldn’t be doing it but I’m tired of fighting it. If you want me, tell me and I’m yours."
My heart beats faster at his words. The thought of being desired by Omar sends a wave of heat across my skin. I feel myself getting lost in the moment, surrender creeping in as his expert fingers work their magic.
With a newfound determination, I sit up abruptly, breaking the intense eye contact. The movement causes my shirt to ride up, revealing the curve of my hips. I tuck on the hem of my tank top and pull it over my head. Omar's breath hitches and his eyes darken further as they trail down my body.
I don't give him time to react or object. Leaning in, I capture his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Our tongues slide against each other and I feel Omar's hunger and desire mix with mine. His hands grasp my waist, pulling me into his lap as if he could merge our bodies into one.
I break the kiss briefly, panting, and whisper, "Don’t hold back, Omar. I want this as much as you do."
He groans in response, his hands now roaming freely over my body. I shudder at the feel of his palms against my bare skin when he cups my boobs. His fingers tease my nipples, sending shocks straight to my core and I can't help but grind against his hard cock. Oh wow, that doesn’t feel moderate at all.
"You're killing me, Bri," he growls, his voice strained with lust. "Seeing you like this, all for me."
The way he says 'all for me' sends a thrill through me and I desperately want to please him, to match the intensity of his desire. As if reading my mind, Omar strips his T-shirt off, his movements eager and clumsy. I roll off him and help him shed his clothes, revelling in the feel of his warm skin against mine as we kiss and explore each other's bodies.
“Naked, now,” he demands as he nibbles on my neck. His fingers push impatiently on the waistband of my leggings and between the two of us we manage to get the tight trousers off me.
I run my hands over his muscular chest, relishing the feel of his firm pecs beneath my palms. A dark trail of hair is leading from the sprinkling of his chest down to a well-groomed savanna.
The thought has me giggling.
“Did you just laugh when looking at my dick?” he asks but there’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“No, I was admiring your well-kept grassland,” I laugh. I really do suck at dirty talk! “Your magnificent cock is nothing to laugh at,” I add my voice laced with desire. My fingers gently circle the tip of his stiff shaft, making Omar hiss.
His lips trail down my jawline and I moan as his hot breath caresses my skin. He nibbles on my ear, his voice low and husky as he asks, "Are you sure about this, Bri? We can't go back once we cross this line."
I nod, unable to speak as the weight of the moment bears down on me. That’s all it takes for him to fully take charge of the situation, and he gently but firmly guides me onto my back. He parts my legs with his knees, and I feel the weight of his body above me as he settles between my thighs.
The anticipation is killing me and I can't wait to feel him inside me. He slowly trails his fingers along my hips down to my mound, and I quiver in anticipation.
With a confident smirk, he slides his fingers lower and slides them through my wetness. “All for me,” he mumbles to himself and the fire in his eyes makes me feel like the most desirable person in the world.
"You're so wet for me, Bri," he breathes, his finger grazing my core. "I can't wait to be inside you. But… I don’t have protection with me."
“I do,” I mumble and scramble from his embrace. I should feel self-conscious as I strut butt naked through the room but I don’t. He made it clear how much he wants me with the desire in his eyes. I fish a few condoms from my handbag and throw them on the bed before rejoining him.
He pulls me into a deep kiss before he unwraps one and rolls it on. I desperately crave his touch and pull him down to me. Lifting my hips I urge him on, needing him to satisfy the fire that's been building between us.
With a smouldering look, he positions himself at my entrance but he’s not ready to give me what I want. Grabbing hold of his cock, he slides it up and down my slit coating it in my arousal.
“Ask for it,” he demands making me gasp. I can’t describe what this dominant side does to me.
“Omar, I need you.”
“What do you need?” His eyes are locked on me as he pats my pussy lips with his cock.
“Don’t tease me!”
“Say it, Bri. I need to hear you say it.” I’m not sure if it’s an erotic thing or if he just wants confirmation that I want this, or both, but I’m ready to beg for it.
“Omar, I want you to fuck me. I want you, all of you,” I moan.
He places a long kiss on my lips and slowly, so slowly, pushes his tip into me.
“More,” I groan and lock my legs behind his arse to pull him closer.
This seems to break whatever has been holding him back and he begins to thrust. I feel stretched and full as he fills me, our eyes lock in an intense stare that speaks volumes. Omar's pace quickens, his powerful thighs driving him into me with force.
The room fills with the wet sounds of our bodies colliding and the occasional low moan escaping my lips. Omar's hands grasp my thighs, leaving marks that will remind me of this night. He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear as he growls, “So good, you feel so good!”
His words almost push me over the edge but I hang on. One of his hands finds a nipple and starts to squeeze. I raise my arms above me and grab the slats of the headboard. I’m so close to the edge. I want to let go and come but at the same time I don’t want it to end.
"Come for me, Bri. Show me how much you've wanted this."
Those words break me and I cry out as my orgasm washes over me. I can't think, can't breathe, as the climax sweeps through me. My back arches and I feel my core pulsate around him.
Omar joins me in ecstasy as the intensity peaks. His roar fills the room and I’m sure the whole B I assume to take care of the condom. I hear the shower turn on before he pokes his head back out of the bathroom.
“Care to join me?” he asks with a grin. Guess that means he doesn't regret it.
Thank fuck for that!