"Author's note: This story is Part 5 of my first serialized work. Read the earlier parts if you haven't already. The concept behind this story, including generalized characters/names and premise, was suggested by Literotica user Rav09. The story's development and specifics are my own.
This story will contain themes of cuckolding, voyeurism, reluctance/seduction, and interracial connections. You've been warned.
And the usual disclaimers: all characters are fictional, similarities to real-world people/events are purely coincidental, everyone involved is of legal consenting age, etc.
I was in heaven. Or at least my cock was... although that was pretty much the same thing.
Amanda lay beneath me, panting as I thrust into her rapidly. She was clearly enjoying herself, and in the back of my fevered mind I wondered... was this it? Was I finally about to make her cum?
I mentally willed myself to hold on just a bit longer... we were so close! But the pleasure, oh god, the pleasure.
And just like that, I felt the telltale switch flip in my mind. Jerking my hips back, I began to release onto Amanda's pelvis—although there wasn't much to be released. I'd been drained daily for almost a week, so the only sperm left was what I'd managed to produce in the past 24 hours.
After giving myself a moment to recover, I jumped back into action. My job wasn't done.
I crawled up next to Amanda and flipped on my side. She watched me move and turned to face me, but I restrained her.
"I'm not giving up yet. Let me try with my hands again?"
I saw a flash of skepticism in Amanda's eyes, but she buried it quickly. "Yeah, go for it," she responded, still somewhat breathless. She flopped onto her back once more.
I reached between her legs with my hand and began to rub it on her sensitive area. "How's that feel?"
"Good. Go a bit faster."
I complied. My fingers rubbed in a small circle over her clit, trying to keep my pace fast but steady.
"Mmmmm, faster."
My hands were going about as fast as I could move them while keeping them controlled, but I did my best. I kept at it for what seemed like an eternity, watching Amanda's face closely for a sign that she'd finally reached her peak. As exhausting as it was, I did seem to be making progress...
And then the cramp hit. The pain was intense, and I reflexively yanked my arm back, trying to soothe the aggrieved muscle. At last, the pain faded, but the damage was done. Amanda was looking at me, concerned. At least it wasn't disappointment that I saw.
"Sorry," I muttered. "Just got the forearm cramp from hell. I'm good now, though. Want to pick up where we left off?"
Amanda rolled over and hugged me. "I love your dedication, Dan. But let's save it for another time. It just wasn't meant to be today, and that's okay. There's always tomorrow, after all."
There's always tomorrow, after all.
That had become our unofficial motto over the past week. At first, it had been a lighthearted line, meant to emphasize that Amanda and I were in no hurry. Now that Amanda and I had finally had sex (thanks to our roommate, Dante), a whole new world of physical pleasure was open to us. It was amazing, and we'd had sex every day in the week since.
To be sure, our sex had its awkward moments—we didn't have that first-time-excitement to hide behind anymore—but I'd never felt closer to Amanda.
My only regret was that I'd yet to give her an orgasm.
She clearly liked having sex with me, and she reassured me that she didn't need an orgasm to enjoy it... but still. I couldn't help but feel that it meant there was something wrong with me. Especially considering I had seen her orgasm twice before during sex... with Dante. I knew it was likely just the extra thrill factor that gave him the advantage over me, but I couldn't stop comparing myself to him. He was bigger, taller, more muscular... not to mention well-endowed. Plus, as much as it shouldn't have made a difference, Dante being black probably made him seem more exotic too.
I knew these thoughts were unfair to both myself and Amanda, but I couldn't seem to stop them. My only silver-lining was that I knew Amanda was fully committed to me. Even if she had enjoyed her sex with Dante, I was the one she was marrying in a few months.
And once I finally gave Amanda the orgasm she deserved, I could put my insecurities behind me for good. Today was a failure, but as Amanda had pointed out, we'd have the rest of our lives together. We didn't need to be perfect right away.
There's always tomorrow, after all.
***
With our sex finished for the night, Amanda and I cleaned up and went to bed. Despite the unfortunate ending, our sex had been good. The connection between the two of us extended to the physical, I was happy to see. Both of us had been so horny for each other the past week, in fact, that we hadn't even needed foreplay to get going. We just exchanged 'the look' and then the next second, we'd tear each other's clothes off. Amanda had never struck me as a physically-minded girl, but it seemed that was a sign of her self-repression, rather than a true ambivalence to sex. I'd been fine waiting until marriage... but I had to admit, this was better.
Amanda appeared happier too; part of it was the sex itself, but I suspected the major reason was she no longer feared me abandoning her afterwards. Years of self-repression had finally ended; no wonder Amanda had dived headfirst into this new world. I also sensed her desire to experiment. Nothing wild—just different positions, different times of day, etc—but enough to suggest that she was just getting started.
I liked this new Amanda.
As I went to sleep that night, I felt good—despite my lingering insecurities.
The next morning, as I was headed off to work, Dante popped out of his room just in time to catch me.
"Hey, Dan. I've got a client this evening—would you be okay pushing your massage to tomorrow instead?"
