That First Night

Hey, all. Been a while since I've written at all and this is my first submission on this site so...Please be gentle ;) And...I hope you like it. Thanks for reading! :)

*****

Nothing's gonna happen. You're gonna behave yourselves. Nothing's gonna happen. You're gonna behave yourselves. I was a woman on a mission. I knew what he wanted by all the "text-versations" we had been having, but this was our first meeting and he promised we were "just gonna hang out". And I was going to see to it that we did just that...And ONLY that. I was determined.

I walked down a carpeted, hotel-like corridor searching for his apartment door out of a line of identical white doors.

315.

I checked the text he sent me. Yup. 315. This was his door. Last chance for second thoughts. I knocked, unsure if I had knocked loud enough. The chance to walk away was going, going...He answered.

Wearing nothing but his underwear.

Definitely didn't expect that. I'm not sure what he saw on my face. Surprise? Appreciation? Disapproval? All of the above? I felt them all in one big swoop. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt: perhaps this was his normal attire when he was home alone. The other part of me knew that he remained this way on purpose, for me, because he obviously knew that I was coming.

"Come on in," He said with a crooked, mischievous grin, motioning me inside. His charming smile. Swoon. I returned it; an automatic reflex. Then I walked through the doorway. There was no more time for cold feet, no turning back now. I was in. An idea for better or worse, this was happening.

After he closed the door, he went over to the fridge and there was a clink of glass as he grabbed me a beer. Then he went to sit on the small, suede couch positioned in front of the TV. Something was playing on Netflix. He patted the empty cushion beside him, motioning me to join him on the couch. I took my beer and with a crooked grin, pointedly plopped myself on the opposite couch against the wall, several feet from where he sat.

Separate couches. That should do it. No naughty, sexy nothings were gonna happen if I could help it. No sir! I wasn't sure if I was trying to go through such extreme lengths more for his sake...Or my own. I knew his game, what he was playing at. And, I didn't plan on letting him win. Although I wouldn't ever admit it, a deep part of me wanted him to play...And wanted him to win.

I sipped my beer purposely, slow, and he was all-too eager to fetch me another when it was empty. And another when that one emptied. They were going down faster with each new bottle. I should never have had the first one.

"I can't hear you very well from over there," He insisted for what felt like the hundredth time. Three drinks and a movie and a half in, and I was starting to feel my resolve weakening.

SLIGHTLY. I was getting ready to consider switching couches, that is.

"Then turn the TV down," I suggested, giving him a playful smile. I was dodging all his attempts and it gave me great satisfaction.

"It's not that. You talk really quiet. I'll sit over here," He scooched himself into the farthest corner from me on his couch. "And you can sit over there," He pointed to the other, now unoccupied corner of his couch. "I'll stay over here and behave. Promise".

I eyed him for a moment, gauging, fairly buzzed. It wasn't the first time I'd been told that I was a little hard to hear so it seemed a credible reason enough. Same couch, but different sides? I could do that. Yeah.

"Fine," I leaned down to get my beer from the floor and got up from the couch. "Separate corners," I agreed, walking over to occupy my corner of his couch.

More drinks were had and more movies played while we sat chatting about this and that, everything. He started telling me about where he'd been and what he'd been doing over the couple weeks he had been away from work, leaning in to show me pictures on his phone. He seemed so genuinely excited to be talking about it and showing me all the places and things that he had seen and done, that I didn't protest when he scooched closer.

More time went by and our conversation quieted while we got absorbed in some Adam Sandler comedy, but still, I was all-too aware that he was still much closer than he'd been the whole night. He had never moved back to his corner. He broke his promise.

But since he had been behaving, I didn't press the issue. I could practically touch his arm with my own if I just breathed deep enough. I was sure of it. The fine ends of his arm hair were tickling my arm.

"Boobies," Adam Sandler suddenly shouted, goofily, on the screen. I chuckled.

"Boobies?" I scoffed, an eyebrow raised. "What's the big deal? Every woman has boobs. I have boobs!" I exclaimed.

Shit. Oops.

My eyes widened.

His attention snapped straight to my chest; to my breasts, curving slightly out of my lace-lined cami. They were heaving, up and down, under his stare. His expression was INTENSE. Like if a nearly-desiccated vampire getting a sudden whiff of blood. Or a withdrawing addict with their next fix right before them. Or a stranded, sun-beaten person in the desert seeing water for the first time in ages.

His eyes burned with heat and need. And my body responded viscerally, intensely. I suddenly felt really hot. White-hot chills shivered their way from the depths of my groan, out through my whole body to the top of my head, to the tip of my toes. I felt like I couldn't move, paralyzed by sensation and desire. And I swear I could feel a rush of warm liquid gushing out of me to pool in my panties.

I panicked. This had never happened like this before. I never felt so INTENSE. I had had sex before and orgasms, sure, but this...This was a whole other level. Unnerving, even.

His eyes shifted from my chest to look up at me. I can only imagine what he saw. Panic? Desire? Both? He looked back down at the modest mounds peeking out of my cami. And slowly reached his hand up to trace one with his finger.

Then his hand disappeared down the front of my top. It felt pleasantly soft and...Cool against the feverish warmth of my skin. My chest was heaving, my breaths quick like my pulse. He cupped my breast and pulled it out to rest, exposed, over the front of my cami. The air felt refreshing against my skin and I could feel another moist tingling between my thighs, feel goosebumps as my nipples hardened.

Still cupping my breast in his hand, he bent his head down and brought his lips around my nipple. I closed my eyes, appreciating the sensation. Why wasn't I stopping this? I had clearly promised myself that we were going to behave. HE promised he would be on his best behavior. And yet, I couldn't stop him. I didn't WANT to stop him. The sensations were too much, too good. I didn't want them to end. I just wanted MORE. I imagined that he now saw the same fire and hunger in my eyes that I had just seen in his a moment ago.

He stopped sucking and licking my breast to look up at me. Probably to gauge my reaction. Clearly he saw no fight because he brought his lips to mine and kissed me. Hard, fervently. I returned the kiss. At first, a bit hesitant, still feeling reserved, then letting go of all inhibitions and returning the same passion in my own kisses.

He pulled away from me for a moment to slide my shirt up over my head, tossing it somewhere on the floor out of my sight. Then he went for my pants. Now we were even...Both of us only in our undergarments, both of our bodies blotchy and heaving with arousal, anticipation.

I went in for a kiss. He leaned in to return, hungrily, and then, with a wicked grin, pushed me back to recline on the couch. He grabbed my hips and pulled them forward to align with the edge of the couch. I watched him, feeling my heart jump wildly. My body reacted more strongly to him than it ever had to anyone or anything ever before.

He peeled my panties off, sliding them down my thighs, my calves, my ankles,, and then tossing them aside somewhere onto the carpet.

"You're really wet," He noted, admiring, with his face leaned in, centered between my thighs. I pushed my palm against his shoulder, a silent protest. I was very self-conscious and I had yet to enjoy oral before.

"It'll be good. I'm good at it". He said. I had to admire his confidence, but I didn't share it. He gave me no time to mull it over or argue. His face was suddenly buried between my thick thighs, against the moist heat of my pussy lips.

Oh, wow!

He was right. He WAS good at it. His hot mouth against my sensitive lips mixed with the cool air of the room, felt amazing. I could feel my nipples tingle again, hardening in approval. I was overcome with pleasant surprise and appreciation and I wanted to show him. I needed to show him.

I grabbed his face between my hands and pulled him up, kissing him enthusiastically. While he returned my kiss, without missing a beat, he slid his briefs off. Now he was kneeling on the floor before me completely naked, all hard curves and muscle. I could see the way his muscles clenched and worked as he moved to line push my thighs open with the presence of his hips, his hard cock pointing between my open thighs.

For a moment, we pulled away from the kiss, looking at each other. Was this going to happen? Why weren't either of us stopping it like we had promised? I didn't care. And, by the wild, craving look contorting his face, I didn't think he did either.

This moment gave me the chance to see him now, to appreciate him fully naked; to take him ALL in. His cock was noticeably hard and erect. And thick.

"Mmmm," I accidentally moaned my appreciation for the sight of him. He gave me a devilish grin. And thrusted. "Ahh, mmm," I half gasped, half moaned, throwing my head back.

He looked down at me holding me captive in his blue-gray eyes while he slid in and out of me. He felt incredible. It was a little bit of pain when he first thrusted into me, him being so thick, but it was also complete and total pleasure. That first thrust was my favorite part.

He started out slow, gentle, easy it in and out. He leaned his face down, resting his forehead on mine. I smiled, reveling in the new sensation this action erupted in me. Soon began to thrust at a frenzied pace. His balls smacked into my ass with each thrust. I was taking him all in. He moaned. I could see the muscles working in his arms and shoulders as I ran my hands up them.

I leaned up to give him a wild kiss of unbridled appreciation and pleasure. I wanted to thank him, to worship him with my lips. Because it felt so amazing to have him inside me, our bodies connected and writhing in sync. I pulled away from the kiss, throwing my head back. I hugged his hips closer to me, wrapping him close with my legs. I wanted as much of him as I could have.

The familiar icy-hot tingle was starting to form in the depths of my loins. I was getting close. I was going to climax soon. With him inside me. That had never happened before. And it was an experience I was all too willing and eager to share with him.

I bunched the couch cushions into fists. So hard, it hurt and my knuckles were white. I was breathing so erratically and feverishly, I thought I'd pass out. I could feel my throat becoming hoarse with each, gasp and gulp, each moan. I was bucking wildly. My breasts were bouncing and flopping.

"I want you to cum," He said, hoarse and breathy.

"Please," I whimpered breathlessly, begging him to make me cum. I was so close. At that, he cradled my head in his hand and he bent in closer, scooping me closer into him. I could feel his the moisture of his skin from working so hard. I could feel the ripple of each muscle as they worked to bring us both to pleasure. And I could feel the heat in my loins growing hotter, wetter.

It was becoming hard to concentrate. To think. To breathe. I was losing control. Fast. "Pl-," I tried to beg him not to stop, but I couldn't get the words out. He understood; quickened his pace.

"Come on, baby. Cum for for me." He encouraged.

The tingling heat between my legs, exploded.

A white-hot gush of eye-rolling, mind-numbing, body-seizing, full-body tingles erupted from the deepest depths of my womanhood. In some very distant part of what was left working in my mind, I was aware that my body was convulsing and spasming wildly.

After several blissful moments of wave after hot, tingling, wave of carnal pleasure, I finally regained my ability to open my eyes. He let go of me and pulled to look down at me. I smiled adoringly and appreciatively up at him while I rode the receding waves of my orgasm.

His was almost instantly after mine. A couple more thrusts and he pulled out, hunched over me. The pleasure was too much for him to stand. Moan after grunt, grunt after moan, he squirted his pearly-white liquid, sticky spurt after sticky spurt all over the inside of my thighs until they glistened with both our sexual juices.

Both feeling pleasantly sated, we slid off the couch like wet noodles, onto the carpeted floor. Our chests were still heaving and our skin was still hot and damp as we tried to catch our breath and rode the receding aftershock waves of our orgasms.