Confident in that knowledge, I let myself have her. Lowering myself closer to the mattress, I let my body come down on top of hers. A bit of her boldness wavers now, her nerves fighting to take over. Before she can let them, I dip my face toward hers, brushing my lips across each corner of her mouth, then I taste those perfect lips. As innocent as it is, just feeling her respond to my kiss makes me hot. I’ve never enjoyed kissing someone as much as I enjoy kissing Francesca. Like always, she keeps it light. Even here, in bed, both of us at least mostly naked, she still keeps the kisses innocent. I don’t know if it’s her preference or inexperience, but I go ahead and deepen it. As my tongue comes out to play with hers, I snake a hand beneath her body, my fingers feeling for the clasp of her bra. She arches her back slightly to accommodate me, pressing her breasts against my chest.
I don’t know why we did anything other than this today. Nothing we did out in the city comes close to beating this. Anticipation surges through me because I can’t believe this is actually going to happen. It hasn’t been that long, I guess, but for me it has. At my age and with the women I date, waiting to have sex isn’t done.
This feels nothing like those encounters, though. Francesca is in a class of her own.
I ease back to help her get the bra off now, flinging it in the floor behind me. Her hands come up to cover her breasts. She’s bashful, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll look when she lets me. Right now I just want fewer clothes covering the body I want to devour, so I smirk up at her and hook my fingers along the edges of her black lacy panties. Her flush deepens as I drag them down her legs, but I don’t take my eyes off her face. I can’t imagine why someone with her body would be uncomfortable getting naked, but Francesca clearly doesn’t like baring herself in any way. I don’t get it myself, but I’m more than willing to accommodate whatever she needs.
“You look like I’m pulling your teeth here,” I remark, lightly.
“I’m sorry,” she says, less lightly. “I hate this part.”
“That’s… What’s to hate about this part?” I ask her, baffled.
“I actually hate all the parts. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Even though she’s naked and I haven’t even really had a chance to look at her yet, she’s clearly not where I want her, so I pause. “Do you not want to be naked? We can strategically drape the sheet if you want,” I offer, indicating the white sheet.
“I’m being stupid,” she says, shaking her head.
“You’re not being stupid. I just want you to be comfortable. You’ve seen me,” I point out, indicating all of my unashamed nakedness. “Since you have the proportions of a goddess, I would like to see you. But if you’re not ready, that’s fine. I can hit the lights?”
“Maybe this wasn’t a good idea,” she says, clearly anxious. “The alcohol has worn off and I don’t feel brave anymore.”
“Okay,” I say, easing off her. “That’s fine.”
Pressing her hands against her face, she murmurs a muffled, “I’m so sorry.”
“No apology necessary,” I tell her, climbing off the bed to go hit the lights. “I wasn’t expecting this anyway. We still get to spend the night together, so I’m coming out way ahead of my expectations.”
Once I climb back into bed, I’m expecting her to have calmed down, but if possible, she looks more upset. “I feel terrible.”
“Don’t.”
Yanking back the bed sheet as soon as I climb in, she says, “Let me finish the blowjob—you’re clearly still aroused.”
I catch her as she tries to move down my body—mostly because I don’t possess the self-control to stop her if she gets there—and pull her into my chest. Without a word, I drop a kiss to the crown of her head and wrap my arm around her.
“I swore I wasn’t going to do this,” she mutters.
“Francesca.” I tip her back, looking into her eyes so she sees I’m serious. “It’s fine. Stop stressing about it. I brought you here today to have a nice time. We’ve had a nice time. We’re still having a nice time. Now, here I am holding you in my arms, falling asleep next to you. I am in no way dissatisfied with this day or you.”
She peers up at me for a moment, just staring at me without saying a word. I don’t know whether she’s going to cry or apologize or just give up and go to sleep.
Finally she leans in, brushing her lips against mine. I respond, since she’s lingering, but I don’t deepen it. I do nothing to set the pace. That was my original instinct and she was fine with that, but once I started taking control, she flipped her fucking lid—even though it seemed like she wanted me to.