Chapter 22 – Haley #2
My back arches off the mattress when his thumb brushes one of my nipples. I can feel the tip tightening. I can literally feel my body reacting to his touch as the sensation travels to the spot between my legs.
“Maybe we could take this off,” he suggests as he reaches for the hem of my shirt.
I nod, and that’s all the permission he needs. He grasps the hem and lifts the shirt up and over my head, peeling it off my body. I gasp as cool air brushes over my heated skin, making both my nipples tighten into little knots. I can literally feel the change.
When my shirt is gone, he draws one peak into his mouth and gently sucks on the tip. The unfamiliar sensation is overwhelming. I cry out sharply.
He freezes, instantly releasing my nipple.
“No, it’s fine!” I gasp, not wanting him to stop. “I just didn’t expect it to feel so intense.”
He chuckles. “I think you’re about to experience a lot of new sensations.”
His mouth returns to what it was doing earlier, only he picks the other nipple this time.
But I’m too preoccupied with what his other hand is doing to pay attention.
He skims his free hand down my body and slips his fingers into my panties.
A long, thick finger slides between my legs, touching and teasing me until it reaches my opening.
I can tell I’m already wet—the throbbing heat I feel down there is a dead giveaway.
His groan confirms my suspicions. Gently, he rims my opening with the blunt tip of his finger. “You’re sure?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “I want this. I want you.”
Philip quickly removes the rest of my clothes, leaving me completely naked. My stomach tightens, and suddenly my skin is covered in fresh goosebumps.
His finger returns to the heated spot between my legs. His fingertip slides through my lips, gently stroking me. “Open your legs for me, babe.” His voice is low and rough. “A little more.”
Despite feeling self-conscious, I do as he asks, and suddenly, his finger brushes against my clitoris. Pleasure streaks up my spine, and I suck in a shaky breath.
He begins rubbing slow circles on my clit, all the while kissing me. His tongue slips inside to find mine, stroking and teasing and tasting. Soon, my entire focus is on his finger and the delicious things it’s doing to me. I feel myself throbbing down there as pleasure swells inside me.
“Philip.” I grasp his shoulders and hold on tightly.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he says between deep kisses.
My entire awareness focuses on his touch, blocking out everything else. My belly starts quivering, and my thighs are shaking. The pleasure slowly intensifies. “Philip.”
“I know, baby, I know. Just let it happen.”
Relentlessly, he strokes me, teasing my clit, alternately stroking it and pressing on that overly sensitive spot. His lips cling to mine.
It’s all too much, and I soon feel my orgasm approaching, taunting me. When he gently pinches my clit, I gasp as pleasure explodes inside me. His mouth seals itself to mine, and he drinks in my high-pitched cries.
Before I can even catch my breath, I feel his finger slip down through my wetness until it rests there, at the throbbing, needy part of me. His fingertip rims my opening, and he says, “Try to relax. We’ll take this nice and easy.”
His finger slowly pushes into me, nudging its way in. He presses gently until his finger finally slides in. I flinch at the slight bite of pain, and a muffled whimper comes out of me. As he strokes me a few times, the discomfort begins to ease.
He withdraws his finger and leans in to kiss me. “Doing okay?”
I nod quickly. “Mmhmm.”
Philip pulls the condom packet out from beneath his pillow before he rises up to shove his shorts off and sit back on his haunches. After tearing the packet open with his teeth, he rolls the condom down the length of his shaft. I watch, mesmerized, and wonder how all that is going to fit inside me.
Kneeling between my legs, he grips my knees and pushes them apart, opening my legs wider, pushing them up and open before he takes hold of himself and leans in. “If you want me to stop, just say so.”
I tense at first, expecting the worst, but he just brushes himself against me, slowly and gently, almost teasingly, from my clit to my opening, and oh, my God it feels so good.
I realize I’m gripping his thighs, practically digging my nails into his muscles, but he doesn’t complain. He doesn’t even seem to notice.
Suddenly, I feel pressure down there. His face is a mask of concentration as he moves forward. The pressure continues, increasing, and yet there’s no give. Maybe he won’t fit. Maybe he was right to be concerned.
His jaw tightens, as does his look of concentration. I realize he’s going slow for my benefit.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I’m okay.”
The pressure morphs into something uncomfortable, something demanding, something intruding. Before I can say another word, my body suddenly gives way, and he sinks a few inches inside.
That slight bite of pain is back, only it’s not so slight this time. I cry out and dig my nails into his thighs.
He leans forward and peppers my face with gentle kisses, apologetic kisses, as he murmurs to me in a low, rough voice. “It’s done, baby. It’s okay. Try to relax your muscles.”
I’m about to tell him that’s easier said than done when he pulls out, almost all the way, but not quite. And before I can even draw a relieved breath, he sinks back in, farther this time, and the burning fullness takes my breath away.
He withdraws again and repeats the process, sinking even deeper this time. Good God, how much more is there?
All of a sudden, it’s like my body knows what to do. My muscles soften, my body opens for him, and now he’s moving much easier inside me. The burning has softened to a sense of fullness that feels… good.
When his finger returns to rubbing my clit, my muscles loosen even more.
He kisses me, drinking in the sounds I’m making, the shaky breaths, the whimpers and moans.
He’s moving more easily now, slowly and steadily, pulling out until he’s almost free, and then carefully gliding back in. His pace slowly picks up, and I can feel the friction heating me up from within.
As he thrusts over and over, I marvel at his strength.
He’s careful to keep his weight off of me, bracing himself on his hands, which are planted on either side of me.
He grits his teeth, and then he stiffens without warning as his back goes ramrod straight, and he throws back his head.
His expression contorts into what looks like a grimace, but he doesn’t seem to be in any pain.
His chest billows as he tries to catch his breath.
His erection bucks deep inside me, once, twice, three times.
My first thought is, We did it! And that’s followed by, I’m not a virgin anymore.
The sheer relief is overwhelming, and I smile.
Philip stops moving and remains deep inside me. Carefully, he rolls us onto our sides. “Are you okay?”
I didn’t realize how powerful this would be. How nerve wracking. Or how incredibly amazing. We just shared something special, something that can never be taken from us.
“Haley?”
I feel like I’m floating. Is this what they mean by post coital bliss? “Hmm?”
He chuckles. “I asked if you’re okay.”
“I’m more than okay. I’m perfect.”
He chuckles. “I’m glad to hear it.” He leans in to kiss me. “I’m feeling pretty perfect, too.”
We lie there holding each other for quite a while. He’s still inside me, but gradually his erection softens and begins to slip out. He finally withdraws and sits up to remove the condom.
I sit up, too, intending to go to the bathroom, but instantly I have a huge dilemma. I’m naked. Do I put something on—maybe my underwear or T-shirt—or do I walk confidently out of the room and pretend I’m not feeling self-conscious about my nudity? I’ve never been naked in front of someone before.
When I glance down at my inner thigh, I see a smear of blood.
Oh, my God. Proof of my virginity.
Philip notices what I’m looking at and says, “Wait here. I’ll bring you a wet washcloth.”
He walks out the door bare-ass naked, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. A moment later, the toilet flushes and I hear the faucet running. He returns shortly after with a warm, wet washcloth, which he hands to me.
“Thanks.” I think I might cry.
I’ve heard other girls tell absolute horror stories about how their partners acted after they lost their virginity. Some made light of it, some bragged. One girl said the guy she was with asked if he could film them having sex. I know with certainty Philip would never do any of those things.
“Are you hurting?” he asks.
“Not really, but I do feel an ache deep inside.”
He nods. “That’s normal.” He goes to his duffle bag, I presume to retrieve something to wear, giving me his back—and some much needed privacy.
After quickly wiping the blood from my thigh, I jump up and head for the door. “I’ll be right back.”
Once I’m in the bathroom, I close the door and sink down on the toilet and shake from the chilly air hitting my bare skin. I’m feeling so many emotions at once. I just had sex for the first time. Philip and I have taken our relationship to a whole new level. I’m not a virgin anymore.
But mostly I’m feeling relief.
We finally did it.