“True story. This dick has never hurt a soul.” He winks.
He’s trying to calm my nerves. I’m not scared of him hurting me, I’m scared of letting him down.
I turn back to him. “That’s useful information.” I smile. “Although, I’m unsure you should spread that one around.”
“I do try to keep it on the down low. I don’t want every virgin in the city knocking on my door.”
“Are you always such an idiot, Mr Spencer?”
“It’s a talent.” He slides my dress down over my hips, letting it pool on the floor. He holds my hand and helps me step out of it.
His eyes slowly drop to my toes as he drinks me in. I stand before him in a satin gold strapless bra and thong.
“Holy mother of fuck, Charlotte,” he whispers in awe. “You are so beautiful.”
He leans in and kisses me, his lips lingering over mine seeking permission. I wrap my arms around his neck and deepen our kiss.
“I’m just going to take the lead here. You tell me if something doesn’t feel right, okay?” he breathes against my lips.
I nod slowly.
He kisses me, walking me back until we hit the bed, and then he lays me down and lies beside me, leaning up on his elbow. My body is snug up against his, and I can feel his erection against my hip.
He kisses me, and with every slip of my tongue, his body moves to cover more of mine. His hands run over my bra and down over my underwear, and I can’t help but writhe beneath him.
For a long time we kiss, and drink each other in. It’s perfect. With every flick of his tongue, every bite of my neck, I feel myself floating higher and higher. It’s like he has a manual to my body and knows exactly what to do to drive me crazy. I can’t get close enough.
Our kisses turn frantic until he’s lying on top of me, his erection pressed against my sex. He’s hard, and his breathing is ragged. I feel out of control with this beautiful man on top of me.
He feels so good.
He leans and rests on one elbow, and with his eyes locked on mine, Spencer slides his hand into my underwear, sweeping his fingers through my wet, swollen flesh.
“Fuck me, you’re so wet, baby,” he whispers. “You’re soaking.”
I grip his forearm, eyes searching his. I should stop him… but I don’t want to.
His fingers begin to circle my clitoris, and I begin to see stars.
“Spence,” I moan, my back arching off the bed.
This is something else. It’s not at all awkward or horrible like I’d imagined it could be.
Spencer sits me up and reaches around to unclip my bra. His smile breaks free when his eyes drop to my full beasts. He leans down and kisses each of them in reverence. “So… beautiful.”
He slowly slides my underwear down my legs, removing and discarding them to the side.
“Fucking hell.” He groans, his hips driving forward without thought.
I close my eyes to try and block him out. All of this adoration from him is frying my brain.
I watch as his lips drop to my nipple, and he sucks carefully, his eyes closing.
“Hell, Charlotte, you are fucking delicious.”
I rock against him, our eyes are locked. His fingers circle and tease me, the sound of my arousal hanging in the air.
Is being this wet normal?