Teach Me Dirty

I gasped as he peeled the fabric away, and I was wet, my thighs were slippery. I stepped out of my knickers, and I was naked. It felt like a dream. A really good dream.

“I’m going to take you upstairs.”

He kissed my mouth.

“I’m going to take you to my bed.”

He kissed my neck.

“And I’m going to make you mine.”

My tummy fluttered and my whole body ached for him, wanted him.

He led me by the hand, squeezing so tightly as he guided me back through the dining room and up a staircase to the floor above. He didn’t flick the lights on until we were in his bedroom, and it was warm up there. Warm and cosy, with a whole other load of artistic chaos around us. His bed was big and soft and dressed in white, plainer than the rest of the room, but perfect for him. Perfect for us.

He pushed me down until I was sitting on the edge, and then lifted my knees up onto his shoulders. I tipped back naturally, sinking into the bed, and his lips grazed my thigh. He nipped and sucked and teased me, his breath so warm as he meandered his way to my pussy. I was desperate for him, wriggling and moaning and squirming and aching. A delirious mess of hormones and want.

I jumped a mile as his tongue found my clit. And it was heaven. Pure heaven.

He spread me open and licked me there, and he sucked at delicate places, and his breath was deliciously hot. When he slipped a finger inside me I was ready, but it still made me suck in my breath. He worked it in and out, sucking at my clit as he pushed in another. And I felt full, and tight, and tender. He moved them in and out of me so slowly, sucking on me until I couldn’t take anymore. Until my fingers were in his hair and I was squirming underneath him.

I couldn’t stop looking at him, couldn’t stop staring down at the beautiful sight of him between my legs.

“Oh, God…” I hissed. “That feels… that feels so nice…”

I gripped the sheets as I came, and it didn’t feel like it did when I did it to myself. It was more tickly, hotter, more intense, and after I felt floaty and soft, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I caught my breath as he kissed his way up my body, and everything was ticklish. I laughed as he kissed my tummy, and I felt him smile against my skin.

He lay on the bed and pulled me up towards him, and his fingers slipped back between my legs, teasing my clit as I groaned.

“I want you so much…” I said. “Please…”

I pulled his tie from his neck and cast it aside, and fumbled with his shirt buttons until I reached his skin. I couldn’t stop touching him, couldn’t stop watching my fingers touching him. “This is really real…”

He smiled. “This is really real.” He shrugged his shirt off. “And not nearly so impressive as your sketches.”

But he was better. He was so much better than my sketches.

His chest was lean, and dusted with a smattering of dark hair. His nipples were darker than I imagined, and harder under my fingertips. His stomach was toned but soft to the touch, and he was warm. He was so warm.

“You’re far better than any sketch I’ve ever done.”

It amused him, I could tell, his eyes twinkled in the lamplight. “The lady is easily pleased, it seems.”

I traced my fingers down his arms, and they were so firm. His hair felt nice to the touch, fine and soft. “No,” I said. “You’re just perfect. Everything I ever wanted.”

“Save that judgement until after.” He kissed my lips and I opened my mouth for him, and his tongue hunted mine, chased me down as his body positioned itself over mine. He unbuckled his belt, and wriggled from his trousers, and I felt him against me, the weight of his erection on my thigh.

And it felt big.

Big enough to make me nervous.

I was nervous.

“You’re ready?”

I nodded. “Please.”

“My pleasure.” His thighs nudged mine open, and I took a breath. “I’ll take it slow.”

I felt him press against me, felt him rub himself back and forth, teasing and pushing. It hurt for a moment, and I felt myself open up, just a little bit.

His breath was fast in my ear. “That’s it, Helen, that’s good. Nice and easy.”

He moved his hips and pushed against me again, and it hurt again. He stopped. Let me clench and wriggle around him.

“Are you ok?”

I nodded. “I’m good… don’t stop…”

His hips circled, tiny motions back and forth, so gently, opening me up and pushing deeper, and stopping again when I flinched.

And then something came over me, something needy and primal. I reached for him, pulling him closer, wanting him inside me.