Biker's Virgin

After a minute, I pulled my hand away and took my pants off. She lay on her back, and I positioned myself over her, felt the head of my cock pushing up against her warm wetness. Oh, I had missed that feeling. I slowly eased myself in, and once I was all the way in, I lowered down onto my forearms, and we started to kiss, a long, slow kiss, mouths open wide, tongues entwined with each other. While we did this, I began to rock my hips in and out, breathing deeply through my nose, my whole body engulfed with a tingling pleasure that settled over my body like a fine mist.

We stopped kissing and looked at each other, keeping our gazes locked as I continued to fuck her. Doing so made it seem like a completely new experience, seemed to elevate it to a whole new level. I’d looked girls in the eyes before when we’d had sex, but never this long, never with someone that I felt this strongly about. It seemed to intensify everything, and I had to slow down so I wouldn’t climax too early.

She was biting down hard on her lip, trying not to make any sounds, but little whimpers still managed to escape. My breathing got heavier, faster, and part of me wanted to squeeze my eyes shut, grit my teeth, and just chase that feeling until I caught it and was obliterated by it, but I made myself go slow and held her gaze. All sorts of things were happening down there around my cock; she was warm, gushingly wet, slippery like a sponge, except she was so tight that I wasn’t going anywhere. It was the most remarkably pleasurable array of sensations that I could ever recall feeling.

“I love you,” I said. I wanted to say it to her, but not when I was climaxing, because that of course would seem like such a cliché and could be taken as something that was just said in the moment; I wanted her to know that I really meant it, that it wasn’t just something I was saying because I was being overpowered by good feelings.

“I love you, too,” she gasped, and she reached around and grabbed my ass, pulling me to her, hard, and I could tell she was close to coming, so I let myself just go for it, and it was like we were both riding the same wave, so when it peaked, we were there together; it was happening at the exact same time.

I stayed there on top of her long after we had climaxed, her arms wrapped around me. Finally, I rolled over onto my side, but I reached out and took her hand as we lay next to each other.

“You can stay,” I said. “Stay the night. I don’t want to let you go. I want you right here in my arms tomorrow morning.”

“But... what about Declan?”

“It’s okay. If we’re back together now, then there’s really no point in not letting him know that. Plus, he’ll be so excited to see you. He’s missed you.”

“I’ve missed him, too.”

She curled herself up next to me and sighed in contentment. Not just the postcoital sort of contentment, either, but something deeper than that. Everything felt right again, and it was an immense relief. That’s what it was—underneath all the other feelings, the happiness, the after-sex buzz

, was the feeling of relief.

We were up early in the next day, even though I wouldn’t have minded staying in bed all day long. When Declan came downstairs, Allie was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, and I was mixing batter together for waffles. He stood there in the doorway for a minute, blinking, looking as if he thought he might still be dreaming.

“Miss Allie?” he said.

“Good morning, Declan.”

Declan looked from her to me, then a huge smile broke out onto his face. “Are you making waffles, Dad?” he asked.

“Yes, I am,” I said. “So, I hope you’re hungry.”

“Did you sleep over last night?” Declan asked Allie, as he climbed up onto the chair next to her. “You look like you’re in your pajamas.”

She was actually wearing one of my T-shirts, a big one that came down almost to her knees, and a pair of my boxer shorts.

“I did,” Allie said, glancing at me. I just smiled and kept stirring the batter.

“So you and Dad aren’t fighting anymore?”

“No,” Allie said. “We weren’t really fighting to begin with, though.”

I opened the waffle iron and ladled out the batter, then closed the lid.

“Can you sleep over tonight?” Declan was asking.

I tried to hide my smile; he’d probably be more than happy to have her sleep over every night. Then again, so would I.

“We can talk about that later, buddy,” I said. “Want some orange juice?”

When the waffles were ready, the three of us sat at the table. It was the sort of domestic scene that I was used to during my own childhood, that probably would have made me cringe in my early 20s, and now, at 31, was exactly what I wanted. Declan and Allie were both here, and since it was Saturday, we had the whole day ahead of us to do whatever we wanted.

The next day when my parents came over, they took Declan out to the lake and then into town for ice cream. Allie had gone out with Amy for the day, so I went for a long bike ride. I stopped by Ben’s shop and hung out with him for a little while before heading back to the house. I took a quick shower, and as I was drying off, I heard my parents and Declan get back.

I went out back where they were sitting, and Declan told me about swimming at the lake and what kind of ice cream he’d gotten when they went out.

“I jumped off the dock five times!” he said proudly. He had a little smear of chocolate ice cream dried on his chin.