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Bring Your Curiosity

Category: Mature
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“I was afraid you’d never speak to me again, Edie.”

David ran a hand down my arm and a shiver followed behind, sending goosebumps popping across my skin.

“I don’t know what possessed me to take a risk like that.”

He looked at me carefully. I waited, heart beating hard. It seemed to take ages from the time he began to bend toward me until his lips touched mine. I thought, in that seemingly endless interval, I would faint from anticipation and disbelief.

It was a soft, almost chaste kiss, nothing like the kiss from a month before, the kiss I hadn’t been able to get out of my head, the kiss that had left me rubber-kneed, breathless, and longing for more. His lips touched mine softly, and he stood for a few heartbeats without any kind of advance. Was he waiting for my response? I didn’t want him to doubt my desires, but my brain was moving too slowly to react before he drew back.

“Is this really what you want?” He reached his hand up to touch my cheek with his fingertips. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice level.

“Because, I know what I want, Edie.” He ran his palm over my cheek. “I know what I want, and it’s not entirely appropriate. Not at all appropriate, in fact.”

My heart jumped. I swallowed and wondered where all the air had gone.

“When I kissed you, you kissed me back. I wasn’t imagining that, was I?”

I felt suddenly lightheaded and overheated as his hand slid down my cheek and over my neck, but managed to shake my head.

“It was a very sexy kiss, too,” he said.

It seemed unreal, impossible, but it was happening—David was touching me, advancing on me, using words so provocative and enticing they took my breath away.

“Have you ever been with a man older than you?”

I shook my head.

“But you’re curious.”

It was a statement, not a question.

“I am,” I managed to say. My heart was pounding in my ears. His hand felt like fire on my skin as he paused before leaning toward me again. I watched him draw nearer and closed my eyes before his mouth reached mine, almost afraid to believe I wasn’t dreaming.

I felt the heat of his lips and held my breath for the few seconds he paused, his mouth pressed to mine. He drew back enough to speak, his lips brushing against mine, his breath hot. “I’m curious too,” he said softly and then he kissed me again. Once I shook the disbelief from my mind I kissed him back, reaching out to put my hand on his chest to steady myself.

At first he kissed me gently, his hand light against my cheek. It seemed like he was giving me the chance to retreat. But I didn’t. He kissed me again with more intensity and intention, slipping his other hand to my waist. Then his mouth opened against mine and my hand on his chest became a fist, clutching the fabric of his shirt as a shiver ran through me.

I kept my eyes closed for a few seconds after he’d pulled away. Part of me expected to open my eyes and find I was standing alone—that the kiss had just been one of the countless fantasies I’d had for so long—but when I did, he was looking down at me, his eyes soft and searching.

“Still curious?” he whispered.

I looked at him and had to force my voice to work. “Yes.”

He stroked my cheek and leaned in again, curving his fingers around my jaw. He tilted my head back slightly and brushed his thumb across my lower lip. I closed my eyes and a moment later, I felt the heat of his mouth on mine again. My breath caught in my chest, my heart throbbed, and then another second later his tongue split my lips and I gasped.

He kissed me and he held my chin in his hand, firmly, drawing me upward as if he would lift me from my feet. He kissed me deeply, gently forcing my mouth open as he did and I shuddered with pleasure and surprise. His tongue searched for mine, teasingly retreating so that when I followed and my tongue slipped between his lips he trapped it with his teeth. I whimpered as my pussy pulsed and shivers ran through my whole body.

He drew back enough to look at me for a second, checking my reaction. His eyes blazed with intensity, so much it made me shiver again, and then his mouth was on mine once more. I was in a state of over-excitement and found myself making little animal noises I couldn’t control.

He kissed me with increasing passion, his teeth clashing against mine. He bit my lip and I yelped. He sucked it, and I moaned. He covered my mouth with his, holding me firmly by the chin so that I was forced to take desperate breaths through my nose until he finally released me, his hand sliding softly down my throat as he straightened his back.

I wobbled on my heels, but David held me steady. My heart was pounding in a panicky rhythm. I took quick, shallow breaths and felt with some confusion that my eyes were stinging with tears. When I tried to say something, all that came from my mouth was a long, tremulous Ohh.

I’d never felt anything that intense before, I’d never imagined a kiss could do that to me, and I never dreamed David would be that forceful. I’d been frightened for a moment, when his teeth had closed over my lip, but the fear had quickly been engulfed by the surges of pleasure and excitement that rolled through me, and now there was nothing but a throb of desire—one steady pulse in my neck, my chest, and between my legs. I looked at him and felt the tears in my eyes; I was dazzled.

David had kissed me—kissed me hard, with passion, with obvious lust. It hadn’t been what I’d imagined—he’d always been a calm and gentle person, I’d never even seen him lose his temper, so to have him kiss me so intensely left me confused—but I was undeniably turned on.

“I think I should feel ashamed of myself, but I don’t. My feelings aren’t perverted. Not abnormally so, anyway.” He smiled and twirled his index finger around a dark curl hanging near my face. He tugged it gently, letting it go to watch it spring back into shape. “I promise I never looked at you like this until this year, certainly never when you were younger. Do you believe me when I say that?”

He looked at me carefully again, eyes jumping over my face, his brow drawn slightly. I had to swallow before I could answer.

“I believe you,” I said quietly.

“But now I can’t look at you without wanting to touch you.” He stepped closer and put his hands on my waist. “Do you trust me, Edie?”

Something in his expression made me pause. “I do,” I said after a second.

“Because there are so many things I want to do with you,” he said. He pulled me toward him again so that our bodies touched and then one hand slid from my waist up my side, his thumb brushing along the underside of my breast. “There are so many ways I want to touch you, and pleasure you.”

My heart beat faster than ever and my head swam. He looked at me with such focus I couldn’t blink. I held still as his hand slid purposefully over my breast, his fingers closing to hold the curve within his palm.

“Is that what you want too?”

“Yes.” My voice was a whisper, all my breath was gone. I wanted it, whatever he wanted, I wanted it too.

The sound of a car door shutting made me jump and push him away. It was Jeremy. Or Ben. It had to be. What would they think? Would they wonder why I was here alone? Would they guess how I felt? I put my hand over my jumping heart and looked toward the window, praying we hadn’t been seen.

David turned and walked to the kitchen door after giving me an amused, but slightly guilty look. He pulled it open, stepping out onto the porch. I stood rooted to the spot, my heart loud in my ears. When Ben stepped through I could tell by his expression he hadn’t seen a thing, and that he didn’t find it odd I was here—alone with his dad—I’d spent so much of the last ten years at their house I was practically family.

“Hey, E,” he said as he crossed the room and gave me a quick hug. “How are ya?”

I hugged him back, feeling a confusion of emotions. I was genuinely happy to see him, I was relieved he hadn’t seen his dad’s hand on my breast, but the relief was laced with guilt. And Ben knew me so well I was worried he’d see in my expression that I was hiding something.

If he noticed, he didn’t let on, and a moment later David and Ben’s older brother Jeremy stepped through the door. We exchanged our hellos and sat in the kitchen for a little while talking, settling into an old, familiar routine. I found I couldn’t look at David, couldn’t bring my eyes to meet his. I was jumpy and distracted the whole time we were chatting. I could see Ben looking at me funny, and I decided I should go before he got around to asking what was wrong.

I made my excuses—said I was tired because I worked late last night—and headed for the door.

“Can you come for dinner, E?” Ben asked.

“No, not tonight.” I shook my head as I slipped on my jacket. “My mom’s going in to work at nine, so I can come over after.”

“Awesome. I can kick your ass at Scrabble.”

Ben’s bright eyes stirred the guilt inside me. To him, everything was like it had always been and this was just another weekend at home with his dad, his brother, and his best friend. We’d play Scrabble and talk and laugh like we always did, and he’d have no idea about the throb between my legs and all the things his dad had said to me, all the things I was thinking.

“As if,” I replied with as much sass as I could manage, and closed the door behind me.

Ben was my best, best friend. Nobody meant more to me than Ben. We’d been inseparable since the second grade when he, his brother and their dad moved into the neighborhood, and had remained close ever since. We were currently 200 miles apart at different schools, but we still kept in close contact—phone calls a couple of times a month and endless text messages back and forth.

If one of us was going home for the weekend, the other would try to make it too, so we did manage to see each other once a month at the least. This weekend in particular Ben had come home to go to a wedding, and even though we’d only get to hang out for one day, I’d immediately switched my work schedule around so I could see him.

Although I had other reasons for wanting to come home, too.

Ben and I told each other everything, we always had. He knew all my fears and hopes, what mortified me and what I cared about most. He also knew my entire sexual history—every boy I’d ever had a crush on, kissed, dated, or slept with. We might have been attracted to each other at some point during adolescence, but nothing ever happened—we were too much like brother and sister for romance to develop.

I had my own family, of course—an older sister, my mom and her boyfriend—but I felt more a part of a family when I was at Ben’s house. I was always welcome and since my mom worked in the evenings, I spent a lot of time there after school.

But I was always a little on the outside. David and his sons were very close. His wife had died suddenly when the boys were in grade school, and the three of them bonded intensely within the grief that followed, growing closer as a result. There was a strong sense of responsibility in their family, and David held his sons to high standards, both in terms of personal achievement and social behavior. They were dedicated students and athletes, driven and focused in any task they were set, and you couldn’t find two more polite and helpful boys anywhere.

I spent the rest of the afternoon with my mom, but I was in a constant state of distraction. I couldn’t get David’s words out of my head, and every so often all the sensations of David’s kisses would flood my brain and overwhelm me. The desire to be near him, to be kissed and touched again pulsed like a flame inside me.

It wasn’t much better at their house. We played Scrabble, we joked around, but I was agitated, distracted, and so turned on I could feel the wetness between my legs every time I shifted in my seat. I avoided David’s gaze, but when I looked at his sons I saw his features—the same long proportions, fine blonde hair, and dark blue eyes. I ended up going home earlier than I might have because I couldn’t stand the tension any longer. I’d claimed to be tired earlier, but now I was exhausted.

David was waiting at the door when I approached it. He met my eyes and I felt it to my toes—his desire, his lust.

“Come by tomorrow,” he said. For a second my heart jumped—he’d said it loud enough Ben could have heard—but it was a simple and perfectly normal invitation to anyone listening. What wasn’t spoken was understood by us; he’d be alone. Both boys would be out for the night. He’d be alone. We’d be alone, together.

“OK,” I said, hoping I managed to sound casual, normal.

He opened the door and as I passed by, he touched my arm lightly. I looked at him and he said, in a softer voice, “Bring your curiosity.” And then I was through the door, stunned and thrilled and scared all at once.

The next day my mom and I went shopping in the afternoon and then had dinner out together. Usually I liked the time we spent together, but my mind was elsewhere the whole time. Time seemed to drag endlessly, painfully, and all the while I was strung tight inside, full of anticipation, desire, and uncertainty. It seemed a foregone conclusion; if I went to David’s tonight, we’d have sex. The idea sent a thrill of panic through me, and left me with a warm feeling of arousal.

I took a long time getting ready to go over, getting more and more turned on by the second. I hadn’t brought anything home to wear that was really nice—just jeans and knit tops—and the only clothes still in my closet were too dressy to wear. I would have liked to have had a skirt at least, but in the end I had to settle for simplicity: white cotton bra and panties, a long-sleeved dark blue top, and jeans. I spent the most time on my hair and scrutinizing myself in the mirror.

I’d always been petite, it was a trait that ran in my family, none of the women on my mother’s side were taller than 5’2″. I was thin, too, and more or less pleased with my body. My mom had made a point of teaching her daughters to love what they had, not compare themselves to others. I sometimes thought my breasts were too small, but I had friends with big breasts who complained about it being uncomfortable, so in the end I was happy to be small. None of my boyfriends had minded.

When I was a kid my hair had always been a mess. It was long, dark, and curly with a tendency to go frizzy. I’d had an arsenal of clips, headbands, ponytail ties, and styling products to keep it in check and was thrilled when I finally found a stylist who knew how to cut it so my curls fell naturally and softly around my face. I wore it long, I always had, just past my shoulders. I considered it my best attribute.

“See you in the morning, honey,” my mom called up the stairs. I listened through the rumble of the garage door and the silence that followed as she left for work, and my heart started beating faster.


I gave myself one last look in the mirror, took a deep breath, and left for David’s.

It took all of ten seconds for me to get from my back door to David’s. Our back yards met at a line of apple trees. There wasn’t even a fence between, just a row of trees and the wooden trellises at the back of my mom’s garden. As I passed under the low tree branches, I remembered the first kiss—it had been here, late at night, David had walked me out the door and to the edge of his property and kissed me. One soft kiss, and one a little more passionate. He’d looked at me, told me he thought I was beautiful, and kissed me one more time, leaving me shaking from the rush of sensation and emotion. And now, here I was again.

The kitchen was dark, but there was a light on in the living room beyond. I knocked softly then pushed the door open like I had ten thousand times in my childhood. David appeared in the doorway from the living room and flicked the overhead light, moving toward me.

“Hi,” I said, but it came out like a question.

He smiled, crossed the room and reached for my jacket. I blushed and took it off, handing it to him as I looked away. While he hung it on a hook by the door, I quietly slipped my shoes off and stood, unable to look at him. Suddenly, I was feeling shy and unsure of myself. He reached for my hand and I let him lead me across the room. He turned around to face me just as we’d gone half way, and I looked up at him, finally meeting his eyes again.

“Hi,” he said quietly. I laughed, my tension eased a little, and a moment later, he took my face in his hands and without another word, bent and kissed me. I panicked for a moment, overwhelmed, and then I reached up to put both my hands on chest, willing myself to relax and enjoy the kiss.

For a long time we kissed tenderly, his hands eventually moving to rest lightly at my waist. I felt my body growing warmer and lighter as our mouths met and parted in a languorous series of movements, lost in the fluidity of pleasure.

When he drew back and looked at me again there was so much affection in his face I felt my heart swell.

“You know I love, you. Right?” He asked.

I nodded. He’d never said it, but it was something I knew. I knew he cared about me like he cared about his own kids.

“And you trust me? Right?”

“Yes,” I said. I answered but, like yesterday when he’d asked me, something about his expression made me pause, gave me a feeling I couldn’t name. I was still trying to decipher it when his hands returned to my face and once more he held it in a firm grip, bringing his mouth to mine. I made a noise of surprise as his tongue immediately slid between my lips. I recovered a second later, kissing him back, and our kisses grew rapidly greedier, more urgent.

Between the surges of pleasure I felt, the throb of my heart in my ears and the realization of what was happening, I couldn’t think. David’s hands were everywhere, no longer gentle, but grabbing and clutching me roughly. I felt caught in a current as his physical advances pushed me backward and his hands found and undid the fasteners on each article of clothing I was wearing, his quick caresses less about pleasure than contact.

I jumped when I felt the solidity of a wall behind me. Somehow we’d crossed the room while we’d been kissing and now stood at the doorway between the kitchen and living room. David pressed me against the door frame, his mouth at my throat. His hands slid under my shirt, up my sides, and I automatically raised my arms as he stripped the fabric off and let it fall to the floor. My bra was already undone in the back, the straps slipping down my shoulders. He wasted no time removing it and bringing his mouth lower. He kissed his way across the top of one breast and swiped his tongue across my nipple. I gasped. Meanwhile his hands were at my hips pushing my jeans lower, his thumbs hooked into the thin fabric of my panties. I gasped again as his tongue found my other nipple and held onto his shoulders as he ducked down to draw my legs from my jeans.

It had all happened so fast, I was out of breath from surprise as much as arousal. I’d fantasized about this so many times, but I’d never expected him to be so lusty.

He trailed his hands along my body as he straightened up, his eyes following, taking in the sight of my naked body. He kissed me again and I awkwardly put my arms around his neck as his hands slowly roamed over my hips and ass then up over my breasts. He was moving slower now, and his touch was turning me on so much I had to pull my mouth from his to catch my breath.

He smiled, took both my hands in his and raised them up above my head. He leaned and placed a soft kiss on my mouth. I felt his hands on my wrists and realized, when he brought his hand down to my face, that he’d taken both my wrists and pinned them to the door frame with his hand. I looked at him questioningly, but he just smiled a wolfish smile and dragged his hand down my throat, over my breast and stomach, where he turned his wrist, angling his fingers toward the floor, and without a pause slid his whole hand over my sex, his fingers curling to rest between my thighs.

I felt exposed and vulnerable, a little afraid, but when David’s fingers began to move in a slow circular motion, pressing against my vulva with increasing pressure, an intense upsurge of heat made me gasp as pleasure overwhelmed me.

“You’re so wet, I can feel it on my skin already.”

He watched me, still smiling, and bent his fingers, letting one fingertip slip between my wet pussy lips. I whimpered and he made an appreciative noise low in his throat, clearly aroused. He made a few long, slow passes and brought his mouth down to my breast and opened it over my nipple. He touched my clit at the same moment his tongue touched my nipple and I squirmed, wanting to free my arms and grab something in support. He held me firmly and continued his careful, focused attention at my breast and between my legs.

Tension built painfully inside me. I sighed and squirmed, unable to keep still. My head swam with revelations of what was happening, of whose mouth was on my nipple, whose fingers stroked my pussy.

“David?” I said, alarmed to feel my body tensing, my hips moving to meet his strokes. I didn’t want to come yet, but my body was seeking it, longing for it. “David?” I said in a gasp.

He lifted his eyes, his tongue still making passes over my nipple, and pressed two fingers inside me. Immediately, I felt it. It was hard to breathe, hard to think.

“David,” I panted, “I’m—”

But I never finished the thought. A second later my body shook and I came, panting and whimpering, biting my lip and pulling hard to free my arms from his grasp. He drew back to look at me and once my whimpering had stopped a huge smile spread across his face.

“You just came,” he said with disbelief. “I barely touched you.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, panting. I was sorry. It had happened so fast. “I didn’t mean to.”

He laughed a throaty laugh and slid his fingers from inside me. “Don’t apologize. It was sexy.”

He straightened, letting go of my arms. I rubbed at my aching wrists and leaned against the door frame, my breathing still a little ragged. He began tugging his shirt from the waistband of his trousers. He took a step into the living room and reached one hand out to me. I took it and let him lead me through and to the stairs. He ushered me in front of him and I climbed, looking back over my shoulder once to see his eyes on my ass, his shirt half unbuttoned.

At the top of the stairs he laid a hand on my shoulder and steered me toward his bedroom. My pulse quickened as we stepped through. He flipped the light switch and as he passed by me, he ran his hand over my shoulder lightly, sending a shiver down my spine. He turned on a lamp by the bed and crossed back to stand in front of me, a few steps away.

I watched, not sure what to do, and still a little shaken from my sudden orgasm, while he removed his shirt and belt, tossing them onto the bed. He stepped backward and beckoned to me with a smile. I followed, suddenly nervous. He stopped at the edge of the bed and took me into his arms when I got near enough. He kissed me and took my hand and slid it between us, placing it over his erection. I felt my mouth go dry as a different kind of thrill swept through me. I ran my fingers up and down, tracing the outline and applying gentle pressure as I did.

He moved his hand from mine and I felt the tug on the fabric as he worked his zipper down. He guided me, slipping my hand into the opening, pushing his shorts down and directing my hand over his cock. It was hot against my skin as I ran my fingers down the length and further until my fingers curled around his balls. He sighed and lifted his hand away, leaving me to explore.

He kissed me again and I closed my eyes as my fingers gauged the thickness and length, conjuring an image in my head before I closed my fingers around it and began to stroke slowly. David sighed against my mouth, kissed me once more and drew back. His eyes were wide and full of desire as he brought his hand to my face and ran a fingertip along my bottom lip.

“I’m having some very indecent thoughts about this pretty, soft mouth of yours. About how nice it would feel on my cock,” he murmured. “I confess I’ve thought about that a lot lately. How it would look with your lips wrapped around it.”

The shock of hearing David talk that way immediately became a thrill of excitement. I’d certainly fantasized about my mouth on his cock, but I’d never expected such a direct approach from him—never expected such explicit language.

“Show me, Edie.” He closed his fingers around my chin and pulled my head toward his, kissing me wetly. “Use this gorgeous mouth,” he said, his lips still on mine. “Suck my cock.”

He laid his hand on my shoulder and gently pressed down. I looked at him, my head nearly spinning with excitement and surprise, and knelt, his cock still in my hand.

“Oh—” he said softly. He reached for my hand and moved it away. “No, I meant only your mouth.”

I stared, my surprise turning to shock, and he winked. It was a moment before I recovered and brought my focus lower, shifting forward a little to get closer.

David’s cock angled upward 60 degrees, directly at the level of my mouth. I looked at it and licked my lips in anticipation. I bent closer, running my tongue over the very tip, glancing up to see him watching me closely. I licked it teasingly a few times before dragging the tip of my tongue down along the underside of his shaft and thrilled to the sound of David’s heavy sigh. I moved slowly, careful to make contact as I licked my way lower until I could curl my tongue beneath his testicles.

He moaned and I angled my head and pressed my mouth beneath them, licking and teasing and nuzzling in close, drawing each testicle into my mouth briefly as I explored. His skin and hair was warm against my nose and the realization of what I was doing made me groan. I brought my hand up, wanting to feel his cock in my palm, but he scolded me gently, reaching down to move my hand away again.

“No, Edie. Just your mouth.” There was a soft authority in his voice, gentle but firm, and I was surprised to find it thrilled me.

I scooted closer and licked my way up to the base of his cock. I looked up the length of it, then further on until I met David’s eyes.

“Don’t stop now,” he said, smiling.

I had no intention of stopping. I looked back to his cock and followed the length of it with my tongue, pausing to backtrack, tracing a vein that ran down its length then moved back to the base and worked my way up again. David’s breathing changed as I moved along, growing deeper, quicker, and by the time I reached the head of his cock there was a drop of fluid ready to drip from the tip, which I eagerly licked up much to his delight.

I teased a little longer, though I longed to go faster, and once more moved my hand without thinking, reaching to close my fingers around the shaft. He pushed my hand away again and I looked up to find his expression dark and intense—an expression I’d seen on his face before, when he’d asked me if he trusted me. It sent a shiver down my spine and made me hesitate for a second.

“Take me in your mouth,” he said.

I let my eyes drop back to his cock and carefully angled my head to bring the tip to my mouth. My hair fell around my face, creating a curtained space in which nothing else existed but the heat and rubbery hardness as I eased him between my lips. He sighed as I let my tongue swirl over the head a few times. I was dying to use my hand to stroke him, but I remembered his expression and focused again on the action of my lips and tongue.

His cock was long, like all his other proportions, and I wasn’t sure how much of it I could take into my mouth. But I wanted to take as much as I could. The thought of my mouth being full of his cock made me moan and I had to stop myself from going too fast.

I was so excited, almost drunk with arousal and disbelief, the urge to suck him down in one swallow and take him as deep as I could was almost overpowering. I closed my eyes and took it slowly, working my tongue around the thick head then letting it slip from my lips as I drew my tongue down the length again. Each time I took him back into my mouth my lips slid a little lower until I thought I had more than three quarters of him inside me.

I sat back and shook the hair away from my face and looked up at him. David stared, his mouth a little slack, his chest rising and falling in deep breaths.

“Don’t stop yet,” he said in a throaty voice. “Keep sucking me, Edie.”

I moved back and brought him into my mouth again, thrilled by his words. Not being able to use my hands was more difficult than I would have thought and it somewhat limited how quickly I could move. I closed my eyes and focused on finding the right angle and rhythm.

David pushed the hair away from my face and held it to the side. I knew he was watching as I took him deeper, and the idea of it made me moan. I continued moving downward slowly until I reached my limit and then drew back as far as I could without letting him slip from between my lips. He sighed and his hand tightened in my hair.

“Do it again,” he said. “Go all the way down.”

I happily obliged, drawing him deep until his cock nearly made me gag. He moaned with pleasure.

“Again. Take me deeper.”

I repeated the whole motion again—slowly up to the head, letting my tongue play along the underside as I moved, and then slowly down again and as deep as my mouth would allow.

“Oh,” he said. There was something like alarm in his voice. “Oh God.”

I opened my eyes and raised them to meet his, holding them a second before I let my head drop just a little more, my lips flaring over his shaft. I saw his eyes close briefly as his cock met the back of my throat. I started to draw back again, but his hands moved to the sides of my head.

“Stay deep,” he said. His voice and his expression were strained as he pushed me gently down again. I gagged slightly and tried to pull back. “Right there, right there,” he said urgently, his hands spread to hold me steady. “Oh God, hang on, sweetheart. I’m so deep…” I tensed with fear and squirmed, pushing against his legs with my hands. He released me and I drew back, coughing.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, reaching down to pull my face to his. His breath was fast and hot on my mouth as he kissed me. “I’m sorry, Edie. That was too much, I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

He looked at me with concern. When I nodded, he kissed me with passion, his tongue between my lips making my whole body throb. It had turned me on, despite the fear, it had been intensely exciting to feel his urgency, to have him in control. I kissed him back, meeting his hunger with my own, and he looked at me with surprise, his expression slowly changing to pleasure again.

He pulled me to my feet and into his arms. In one motion, he turned and lifted me onto the bed, dropping me onto my back. He bent my knees, pushing them back toward my shoulders, and in an instant I felt his fingers against my vulva—hot and hard and impatient—spreading my labia. I squealed when his tongue touched me and groaned a moment later as he swept it up and over my clit.

Again, I was surprised by his forcefulness, his hurry. His fingers slid inside me while his tongue danced around and over my clit, making me jump and moan. When he raised his eyes I shivered, overwhelmed by excitement and pleasure. I saw him smile and then he ducked his head lower and as his fingers retreated, his tongue advanced, slipping into the entrance to my vagina. It was a different sensation from anything I’d ever felt—soft and fluid and undeniably alive.

He brought his hand to my face and pressed his fingers against my lower lip. The scent of my own body was arousing and I almost unconsciously opened my mouth to taste the wetness. I sucked his fingers eagerly as he slid them between my lips and heard him moan from between my legs.

“Give me your hand,” he said, lifting his head and taking my wrist.

He brought my hand to my pussy and let go, leaning close again and very slowly running his tongue over my fingers.

“Feel how hard your clit is,” he murmured, “Touch it.”

He gently nudged my fingertips toward it. I gasped when I touched it and felt David gently pushing my legs further apart. He bent close again, his tongue darting out over my fingertips, making me groan. He slipped his tongue between them to touch my clit and I bit my lip to stifle another groan.

“Stroke yourself, sweetheart,” he said gently. “You’re so beautiful.”

Despite how intimate we’d already been, I was a little self-conscious touching myself in front of him, but it quickly faded as my first careful strokes made my insides tense with pleasure and brought an appreciative noise from David. I circled my clit with a light touch and felt David’s fingers lower down, exploring and stroking just at the entrance to my vagina, adding to the tension building inside my body.

He bent his head again and I felt him enter me as his tongue joined my fingers, licking and sucking teasingly, over and under my fingers, urging me on. I felt his fingers inside me, stroking and thrusting in even motions and then his other hand slid to my breast, covering it gently with his hot palm.

“I want to feel you come again,” he said, raising his head. “I don’t want to miss it this time.”

He smiled and a sudden heat rose up inside me. I gasped and stroked myself more quickly, making his smile widen. When he brought his head close again I felt him nudge my fingers aside as his tongue took over my efforts.

Almost immediately I was panting, all self-consciousness gone as he licked and sucked, experimenting with pressure and location while I gasped out desperate directions. “A little lower…right there…harder…oh fuck, that’s it!”

David’s tongue and fingers brought me close, so close, but the peak stayed just out of reach. The pleasure rolled and rolled through me like waves that wouldn’t break. I slid my hand back to my pussy and for a second my fingers and his tongue tangled and whirled over my clit in a slippery dance, then David sat back a little, his eyes on the frantic motion of my stroking fingers, his own still moving in and out of me, gradually bringing me a little closer to orgasm.

“You’re getting so tight,” he whispered. His voice was a little bit strained and I could see he was turned on too. “Are you close?”

“Yes, yes,” I panted. “So close.”

I swore and groaned and whined, bearing down on my clit as the tension built and built and built. My hips and stomach muscles ached from holding myself so tense. I looked at David’s expression of expectation and a sharp thrill made me gasp. And then the edges of my vision went dim and I felt like my whole body was being squeezed—my head ached, my lungs strained, and nothing came from my throat but a desperate whine.

“Oh God!” I managed to say once the pressure receded a little, and then a second later the orgasm broke hard and I returned to swearing and groaning.

It was a powerful orgasm, more violent than the first one I’d had. It didn’t last very long, but it was intense—taking me high before dropping me hard. I barely heard David’s encouraging words as I came, my senses all shut down for a minute while my pussy convulsed.

Even after the spasms stopped, my cognitive mind was lagging, so lost in a fog of pleasure and disbelief that when he closed my legs and rolled me onto my stomach it took me a second to react. He dragged me toward him, my legs hanging off the edge of the bed, and I felt him press his body against mine, his cock slipping between my ass cheeks as he rocked against me.

“The look on your face when you come is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growled.

I was still breathing fast when he lifted my hips in his hands and angled his penis to enter me. I tensed slightly and then groaned as he began to penetrate me. Three quick thrusts and he was deep inside and we groaned together.

“Oh Edie, your body is heavenly.”

He pulled me toward him until my feet touched the floor. I straightened and he shifted his body, adjusted the position of his legs, and moved his hips experimentally, looking for the right angle. He grasped my arm in one hand, snaked his arm around my waist, and drew me up, straightening my back and pulling me tight against his chest.

He brought his face close to my ear. “Put your legs together,” he said softly.

I closed my legs and he made a low sound of pleasure as the pressure on his cock increased.

“Oh that’s nice,” he said. “The way your pussy grips my cock…” He drew his hips back and buried himself inside me. “God, I want to fuck you so hard, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

A chill ran through me, a little shiver of alarm. His arms loosened a little and he started to thrust in a steady rhythm. Our bodies made a solid slap when they met and for a few seconds that sound dominated the room. He moved his hands to my hips and increased the force of his thrusts. I fell forward slightly, arms outstretched to catch myself, but his hands shifted and he pulled me back against him again, never interrupting his rhythm.

He held me close, his fingers digging into the flesh of my arms. I could feel his hot breath on my shoulder, the occasional pressure of his mouth. My breasts bounced with each forward motion, and my hair swung down over my face. David was breathing fast, pushing harder until he stopped abruptly, wrapping his arms around me and rocked a little, buried inside me.

“Bend over, Edie.” He let go of me and put his hands on my shoulders, applying pressure, pushing me forward. I lowered my chest and head to the bed’s surface, propped up on my elbows. It was thrilling and embarrassing at the same time. I felt exposed and on display. I strained to look over my shoulder as he slowly rocked back and forth, and saw him staring, watching his cock penetrate me. He groaned with pleasure and ran his hands over my back, leaning forward to drape himself over my body.

He braced himself on the bed, his chest against my back, and began to move back and forth, forward and back, pressing his pelvis tight against my ass. The sensation was a more subtle pleasure, producing a warm calm that spread through my whole body, like the warmth of satisfaction. He kissed my neck and stroked my hair away from my face until he was breathing a little more slowly.

When he started to thrust he moved slowly at first, drawing back and penetrating me deeply, but without force. I groaned on every forward motion and was soon clutching the blanket beneath me as he picked up steam, filling me again and again. He wound his hand in my hair, making a messy ponytail in his fist, and brought his mouth directly to my ear.

“I’m going to fuck you, Edie,” he whispered with a ferocity that scared me. “Hard.” He tightened his grip on my hair and I froze. “I won’t be gentle, but I don’t want to hurt you either. If you tense up, it will hurt.” He tugged on the handful of hair and I felt my scalp tighten. I stiffened in fear.

“You need to relax,” he said gently. “Just breathe…”

He waited, giving me time to collect myself, but didn’t loosen his hold. I managed to relax a little and he twisted his hand, pulling tighter on my hair. I stiffened again, remembered, and exhaled the breath I’d been holding.

He pulled again and I gasped, but didn’t tense. It was uncomfortable, but it wasn’t painful.

“Does that hurt, sweetheart?” His voice was soft and calm.


“Do you trust me?”

The same question, but now it scared me. I could remember his expression from earlier, his intense focus and wasn’t sure what to say. I wanted more. I wanted him to fuck me, but the whole thing was confusing too.

“Do you?” He asked again. “You have to trust me, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you; this isn’t about pain. I’ll stop the second to tell me to stop.”

I nodded and took a breath, trying to stay calm, but his assurances made me even more nervous. My heart beat fast and confused emotions flooded my head. He was scaring me, but exciting me too. I did trust him, but there was still a thread of fear running through me. Fear and confusion—why did it turn me on when he acted like this? What did it mean that I liked it? What did it say about me that I wanted it?

He moved his hand a little, tugging my hair so my head turned toward him. I forced myself breathe, to feel that it didn’t hurt. He leaned against me, squashing me into the surface of the bed, and kissed the corner of my mouth.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he said again, the lust back in his voice. He raised himself from my body, one hand propping him up, and let go of my hair gently. He smoothed it against the surface of the bed. “You have to tell me how hard. Otherwise, I’m going to hurt you.”

He drew back and thrust. Our bodies met with a slap. I whimpered and sighed—it was sudden, but pleasurable.

“Harder?” he asked, still smoothing my hair.

He drew back again, pushed with more effort and the slap of his body against mine was accompanied by a grunt from deep in my throat.

“Harder?” He asked. I tensed in alarm. He ran a hand over my back, soothingly. “Relax, Edie.”

I took a deep breath and let it out, sighing as he rocked from side to side, holding himself inside me. This hadn’t been how I’d imagined it would be. It was exciting, but I couldn’t get over my surprise at the intensity of David’s lust.

He thrust again, then again with the same force, moving slowly but steadily and a warmth like sunlight spread through me. His hand returned to my hair again and I cried out as he pressed my head down into the mattress, his fingers twisting hard in my hair. I took another calming breath and tried to focus. It hurt, I was scared, but the pain was a dull, humming pain, a bearable pressure.

“Can I fuck you harder?” He waited for an answer.

“Yes,” I said into the surface of the mattress.

“Tell me, Edie. Tell me to fuck you harder.” He was pushing my head down against the bed and the pain on my scalp was intensifying. But I didn’t want him to stop.

“Fuck me harder,” I said and groaned the next second when he filled me with a quick, short buck of his hips.

He straightened his back after a few more quick forward thrusts, released his hold on my hair so he could hold my hips as he fucked me. I had to focus on not holding my breath as his thrusts pushed me forward. A distinct pleasure built between my legs. I turned my head and strained my eyes to see his face, red and twisted with effort—I could see he was trying to hold back, but wanting more.

“Harder?” he said, his jaw clenched.

He reached one hand forward and grasped my shoulder. He used my body as leverage to thrust a little more vigorously. I could hear his excitement in his voice.


“Yes,” I gasped. “Harder, harder. Fuck me harder, David.”

The bed bounced beneath me as he buried himself again and again. I could feel the flesh of my ass jump at each penetration and knew David’s eyes were focused there, watching his cock enter my pussy. He reached forward and grasped my other shoulder, pulling hard against the momentum of his hips and found a rhythm, punctuated by his quick breathing and my increasingly desperate cries.

It was not how I’d imagined sex with him, not any of the hundred times I’d imagined it. My fantasies had been thrilling and I’d varied the scenarios, but they’d all been romantic. David was gentle and patient and I’d imagined he’d be the same sexually. In my fantasies I’d imagined the kisses lasting and the caresses lingering. I’d imagined us moving as one, wrapped in each others arms in his bed, beneath his sheets. Even my lustiest fantasies paled in comparison to the reality of this violent fucking.

But I couldn’t deny I was turned on. My skin was flushed, my mouth was dry, my head swam with confused arousal, and tension was building inside me again, that familiar urgent ache that had me moaning and clutching at the blanket on the bed.

David groaned and abruptly stopped. He leaned over me, his chest hot against my back. I could feel his heart beating hard. He kissed my shoulder and curled a hand around my waist, holding me lightly for a full minute.

“Let’s get on the bed,” he said. “I want to be able to see your face.”

I waited for him to pull himself out and began to climb toward the middle of the bed. I was soon wrapped in David’s arms as he joined me. He rolled onto his back and led me to get on top of him, pulling me tight into his arms. We kissed for a few seconds and he snaked a hand down between us, taking his cock into his hand. His other hand nudged my hips away from his and without thinking about it, I rose, shifted and positioned myself so the head of his cock touched the entrance to my vagina. He sighed, took my hips in his hands and urged me down. I took him all the way inside and sat up, legs splayed around his hips, adjusting the tilt of my pelvis so his cock entered me deeper.

I looked down at David who smiled and reached for me. “Kiss me,” he said.

I leaned over and felt the delightful pressure of him inside me shift. I brought my mouth to his and he took my head in his hands and kissed me hard. His hips began to move beneath me, thrusting upward.

“Don’t move,” he said against my mouth as I started to move my hips in response. “Just let me fuck you.”

I stopped moving and gripped the surface of the bed as he started lifting his hips, pushing himself into me with short, quick thrusts. He breathing grew fast almost immediately and the look on his face plainly showed his arousal. He kissed me, his tongue making a rough swipe between my lips.

“Could you come again?” He panted, still thrusting into me. “With me inside you? I want to see that expression on your face again.”

“I don’t know,” I said truthfully.

He kissed me again and pushed his hips high, holding them against me for a second.

“Touch yourself,” he said. He slowly lowered his hips back to the surface of the bed. “Stroke your pussy, Edie.”

I slid a hand between us and was surprised by how wet I was. I jumped when my finger slid over my clitoris and David smiled a hungry smile.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Stroke yourself.”

He watched me for a minute while I slid my fingers all around my labia, slipping them down to feel his cock penetrating me. He moved then, pushing himself against me and trapping my hand between us. His hips bucked hard and I gasped as he filled me.

“Stroke your clit.” His voice was full of admiration as he watched me react to my own touch. “God, you’re sexy when you do that. So sexy.”

I gasped again, thrilled by his words, and stroked myself faster. His hands moved to cover my breasts and he started thrusting up into me again. The pleasure spiked and I cried out. David urged me on, his voice a harsh whisper. I groaned and panted and let my fingers fly over my clit.

I began to move my hips, riding him, but he reached up and took my head in his hands again. His grip was tight enough it sent a rush of alarm through me.

“Don’t move,” he said sharply. “Don’t move.” He brought my mouth down to his again and for a second neither of us moved. “Stroke your clit, Edie. Nothing else.”

The look in his eyes was thrilling, scary, but thrilling.

“That’s it, sweetheart. I can feel your pussy getting tighter.”

I let my fingers swirl and circle again and for a few seconds David just watched my face. I sighed and bit my lip, conscious of a frustrated desire to move my hips, to have him moving in and out of my pussy. I could feel the orgasm building.

“Please,” I said. “David.”

He held my head firmly, his fingers curling so they dug into my scalp, and drew it closer so our foreheads touched.

“Oh David, please, please.”

He was breathing fast as he watched me, but he didn’t respond to my pleas.

“David.” My voice was a whine. I started to move my hips a little, tentatively lowering myself over his cock. “I’m going to come.”

I could feel the tension in his whole body as he waited.

“Please,” I said again. “Please, I want to come. Please fuck me.”

He groaned and his hips moved before I even finished the request. They rose and fell in a rapid rhythm and I groaned and concentrated the motions of my fingers, chasing the spot that would start my orgasm. David held my head tight in his hands. I could see the effort in his face, his arousal and expectation.

“Harder,” I said and he thrust so hard my knees left the bed.

He shifted suddenly, pushing me off him and I fell onto the bed, confused and frustrated—I’d been on the verge of coming, right on the edge and he’d stopped me. A half second later he was pushing my legs back toward my shoulders and bringing his cock to my pussy again.

He grabbed my hand and brought it back down between my legs. At the first touch, I felt my body tensing inside. I rolled and stroked my clit and looked up at David’s flushed face.

“Look at how beautiful you are,” he said, his wild eyes on my pussy as he pushed forward, entering me. “God, I want to fuck you so hard.” He drew back and thrust again, making my legs jump.

“Oh God,” I squealed. “Yes, David. Fuck me, fuck my pussy.”

My own words were thrilling to me, but the look on his face as he braced himself and began to thrust harder was unlike any expression I’d ever seen. It made me cold with fear. He ran his hand over my face and neck, closing his fingers around my throat. There was only a little pressure, but I tensed in alarm.

“I won’t hurt you, Edie.”

He didn’t move his hand away and he didn’t slow his thrusts.

“Trust me,” he said. There was an edge in his voice, an authoritative edge. “Stroke yourself again.” I stared at him, unsure of what I felt or wanted, but I obeyed. Almost immediately I felt the ache of my orgasm return. I swore and crushed my head back against the bed. I felt David’s hand tighten over my throat a little, and he made an excited noise, putting a little more force into his thrusts.

“So sexy,” he growled. “So fucking sexy.”

By then I was panting and squealing, my whole body tensing in anticipation of the release.

David’s grip on my throat increased as he thrust, grunting at each forward motion. It hurt. But it felt so good.

“I’m so close, so close,” I panted.

“Come on, Edie.” He sounded almost angry, his voice full of force. “I want to feel you come. I want to feel your pussy squeeze my cock.”

I looked at his face, full of an intense animal lust, and felt the pleasure break. David’s hand released my throat, and I gasped, writhing and squirming beneath him as the intensity of his thrusts and my quaking pussy overwhelmed me. I heard myself whimpering and locked eyes with David. “Oh sweetheart,” he breathed. “I feel it, I feel you coming, baby.”

His face twisted slightly, in an expression of pleasure and agony as he held himself inside me while my orgasm ebbed.

“I’m going to come soon,” he said. He started moving again, quickly returning to the pace and intensity of a few moments before. “Inside you,” he gasped. “Inside your gorgeous pussy.” His jaw was set as he fucked me, using the bounce of the bed against the momentum of his thrusts to penetrate me deep and hard.

He suddenly shifted my legs, bringing my hips off the surface of the bed, driving his cock even deeper. His fingers dug into my hips, fingertips hard on my hip bones, and he filled me again and again, panting hard. He swore, and bucked forward, grabbing me hard. He threw his head back as his thrusts slowed suddenly and he buried himself in me deep, groaning.

“Oh God, I’m so deep—Edie I—I’m so deep inside you.” I felt the tremble in his hips and the pulse at the entrance to my vagina as his cock jumped, spurting jet after jet of cum, filling me up.

He seemed to come for a long time, throbbing within me, then he fell on me a moment later and kissed my face. His kisses were hot and breathy, desperate and grateful. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my body trembling from the intense release.

“Oh God, oh God,” he murmured as he crushed me in his arms and applied more kisses. “Edie. Edie, sweetheart. That was incredible.”

He held me for a full minute, his hot chest against mine, his heart hammering, kissing me again and again. When he moved from between my legs, he dragged a soft hand over my hip and thigh. He rolled to my side and kissed me softly, his breathing slowing.

“Was I too rough? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He pressed his mouth to mine, looking at me with a familiar expression of concern. “I tried to be careful, but I was so turned on.”

I shook my head. “You didn’t hurt me,” I said, and realized it was true. I’d been startled and afraid a few times, but though there had been pain, it was nothing that would linger. I’d enjoyed it, despite my fear, his rough treatment and those few moments of control had made my head spin and my pussy pulse. “I liked it,” I admitted.

He smiled and kissed my lips softly. “Next time, I promise not to be so rough,” he whispered.

My heart quickened at the thought of a next time. “You don’t have to,” I said and saw him grin.

My bliss was interrupted by a sudden thought of Ben—if I’d had sex this great with anyone else, I would have told Ben. Maybe not in detail, but I would’ve been dying to tell him what a great night I’d had. But this was his dad. I couldn’t.

David trailed his fingers up my arm, sending goosebumps popping all over my skin. “What’s on your mind?” he asked, studying my face.

“I was just thinking about Ben,” I said. David nodded, but didn’t respond. He ran his hand idly over my skin, tracing the curve of my waist. “What if he finds out?”

He regarded me seriously for a second. “It’s a little late to think of that,” he said, smiling gently. “He’ll just have to deal, won’t he?”

My head swam with questions and fears. This night hadn’t gone how I’d expected, it had gone beyond my expectations, but now I had no idea what would come of it.

David leaned close and kissed me softly on the mouth. His hand glided over my skin, his fingertips trailing over my breast, and a little flame of arousal flared inside me again. “There’s nothing we can do about that now,” he said. “Anyway, I’d much rather think about all the things I still want to do with you.” He brought his mouth close to mine again. He licked my lower lip and I sighed, surprised to find myself getting turned on again, already.

“We can worry about the consequences later.”

I shivered as he zeroed in on my nipple with the tip of his index finger, swirling around it in slow, tight circles. My questions and fears melted away and I sighed in response to his touch.

“I’d much rather continue where we left off.” He gave me a slow, thorough kiss that made my heart race. “Unless your curiosity is satisfied…I know mine isn’t.”

He closed his teeth on my bottom lip and trapped my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making me squirm and forget my conflicting emotions, my questions and fears. Nothing else existed but the pleasure, the possibilities, and the desire stirring inside me again.

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