Biker's Virgin

I glanced at him for only a moment before turning away. “Goodnight, Brent,” was all I said as I left the apartment.

I was so preoccupied with Brent’s little outburst and his almost cryptic sentence as I had left that I almost forgot to pick up the cheesesteaks from this little pub restaurant that Phil loved. By the time I got to his apartment, I’d almost managed to shake off the conversation with my brother.

“Hi,” Phil answered the door before I could even knock.

“Hi,” I said, in surprise. “How’d you know I was at your door?”

“I saw you walk up to the building.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You’ve been waiting for me.”

He smiled, grabbed me around the waist, and pulled me into the apartment and into the circle of his arms. “Always.” He nodded.

He leaned down and kissed me passionately. I could feel his desire against my thigh. I pulled away just enough so that I could talk, but Phil seemed to have only one thing in mind. He continued to kiss my neck as I tried to speak without getting distracted.

“I…uh… I brought food,” I managed, feeling thrills of pleasure racing up and down my spine because of the way Phil’s tongue felt against the curve of my neck.

“Did you?” he replied, but it sounded like he wasn’t even paying attention.

“Cheesesteaks,” I said, breaking away from him and walking to the kitchen to set them down. “Your favorite.”

“No kidding,” he said, following me into the kitchen. “I made mac and cheese.”

“Sounds like a feast, then.” I smiled.

“The thing is… I have a different feast in mind,” he said as he grabbed me again.

My body slammed into his, and this time I didn’t resist. I let his hands run all over my body and I felt myself moisten instantly.

“The steaks will get cold,” I pointed out.

“I like my meals cold,” he replied, pulling me towards his bedroom.

My protests were weak, but the way that Phil had greeted me had completely erased my hunger. Or at least replaced it with a completely different kind of hunger. All I wanted just then was his body on mine. With his hands on my ass and his tongue in my mouth, we fell backwards onto his bed.

He ripped open my blouse, and I felt a button pop off. I was completely past caring, however, as he threw my dress to the floor and kissed my naked belly. I ran my hands through his hair as he went lower, teasing my panties off with only his teeth. I felt a moan of expectation overwhelm me, and then a second later, I felt his tongue against the hot wetness between my legs.

With my hands twisted back, I clung to the headboard and my back arched as his tongue slipped in between my lips. He made me feel things I never thought it was possible to feel, and suddenly, the world opened up and I was aware of so much more than my limited sight had allowed. It was like he was introducing me to myself. I was more than just a girl who loved old movies and indie rock bands. I was a sexual being, my body an instrument of pleasure, and it seemed Phil knew exactly how to play it.

My body shook as I came, and I felt the shivers run through my body in quick succession. Phil’s hand on my breast served to anchor me in place. As my body recovered from the violent orgasm, he squeezed my nipple lightly, and I let out a little gasp. A second later, he lay down beside me so that we were shoulder-to-shoulder, staring up at the ceiling.

He turned to me and kissed me softly on the cheek. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“Satiated,” I replied, with a deep sigh that revealed more than I had shared.

He smiled triumphantly and kissed me again.

“Is sex always like this?” I asked, once my breathing had slowed.

“It can be,” he replied. “With the right person. But it’s not common.”

“So this is kind of…kismet?”

He smiled. “I like to think so.”

“Has it been like this with any of the other girls you’ve slept with?”

I saw Phil’s expression change for a moment, and I wondered if he considered that an inappropriate question for me to ask.