Falling Away (14 page)

“Damn, Ben,” I breathe. “That’s fucked up.”

He laughs. “Yeah. No kidding.”

“And there’s been no else?” I can’t help asking.

He shrugs. “Same deal as before I left. I drove around the country for a long time. I’d find work somewhere and hang for a while, and I’d mess around with a girl I worked with or something. But I couldn’t ever bring myself to go all the way, but at that point it was more about how fucking embarrassing it is to be a twenty-two-year-old male virgin. It’s pathetic, and I couldn’t tell them. They were just random girls. But with you…it’s different. I don’t know—” He halts, glances at me, emotions boiling just under the surface. “I don’t know why, why it’s different with you. But it is. And now…now you know.” He sets his now-empty second beer down, leaning across me to do so.
 

I’m at a loss. He’s a virgin. I don’t even know how to process that, how I’m supposed to feel about it. In one sense, it makes me feel exactly the way he’s afraid it would: a little embarrassed for him, and a little worried about having to teach him things, wait for him to figure things out. But then…so far he’s always made sure I come first, and hard. He pays attention to how I’m feeling, and seems to intuitively know what I want, what I need. He’s not pathetic. Anything but, really. He’s hot and sexy and except for this particular thing, he’s confident, a man who knows who he is.
 

I glance at him, and see that he’s still and silent, staring out the window, obviously in thought or maybe just waiting for me. He looks dejected, as if assuming that, because I now know his deep dark secret, I won’t want him anymore.

Understandable, but not true.
 

I toss back the last of my beer and set it down beside me, slide down and roll to my side, facing him. I reach out with my hand and rest it on his thigh, keeping my eyes on his.
 

He looks down at me, a flash of surprise crossing his face, quickly replaced by hope and nascent desire. “You’re still here.”

I smile up at him, waiting. “Sure am.”

His eyes heat up, but he doesn’t move to touch me yet. “You don’t care that I’m a virgin?”

I shrug. “It’s a surprise, that’s for sure, but I don’t think less of you for it.”
 

He joins me in the horizontal, angles his body toward me. His palm touches my cheek, and he leans toward me, a smile playing across his lips. “So, you’re still here, in my bed, and you’re still naked.”

I wrap my fingers around the back of his neck and draw him down to me. “Naked in your bed,” I murmur, lifting up to kiss him softly, “and ready to deflower you.”
 

He grunts a laugh. “I don’t think the term ‘deflower’ applies to guys.”

“Ruin your innocence?” I reach between us and find him hardening again. I stroke him with a slow and gentle caress.

He smirks and bends to kiss my clavicle, and then the slope of my right boob. “I’m not exactly innocent, as you may have noticed.”

I gasp as he covers my aching nipple with his mouth. I press his head against me with one hand and stroke his now-erect cock with the other. “True…”

He’s over me now, and I feel him between my legs. But I also feel the tension in his belly, the way he continually flexes his knee as if fighting to contain the pain of kneeling. I let him kiss me, and I guide him to my entrance with one hand, cup his ass and pull him to me, lift my hips and drive him deep, watching his face as he enters me with a slow deep drive.

I can’t help a whimper from escaping me as he pierces me, because he’s huge and hard and fills me like I’ve never been filled, he stretches me to a pleasant aching burn, and I wrap my legs around his waist and grind on him, bring my lips to his ear and nip at his earlobe.

“How’s it feel, Benji?” I whisper.

“Fucking incredible,” he rumbles. “You feel…I didn’t know it would feel this way.”

I hold onto both hard globes of his taut ass and encourage him to move. “Fuck me, Benji,” I whisper, and then bite his earlobe again and stretch it out, let it go, and nip at the skin of his neck. “Let me feel you move.”

He groans and trembles. “Not sure how—how long I’ll be able to—”

“You’re close, huh?”

He buries his face between my breasts, and his hips glide against mine, and his thick cock slides deeper until we’re crushed hips-to-hips and he’s shaking, tensed, growling in his throat. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m…I’m trying to—”

I push at his shoulder. “Lie down.”

He pulls out, gasping, and moves to his back. Slowly, I move to straddle him. His dick glistens with wetness, lying hard and thick against his belly. He’s breathing hard, sweating, every muscle tensed and taut as he struggles to hold back. It’s impressive, actually, how much control he has, considering. I slide my ass over his belly, my palms on his chest, leaning over him. My breasts sway and drag against his flesh. He cups them, and then his hands go to my hips and he caresses my ass, the backs of my thighs.
 

Reaching between us, I grip his cock and press the head to my slit, nestle him between the lips, and then slowly feed him into my channel. He groans and trembles, his fingers tightening on my hips.
 

“Hold it for me, Benji,” I groan, hanging my head as he pierces me. “Not yet, okay? Just…hold on.”

“Trying.” His grip on my hips is almost painful. “You just feel so fucking good it’s getting impossible to last much longer.”

When he’s in me, I push up so I’m kneeling upright, balanced on him with one hand on his belly, the other holding my hair out of my face. I stare down at him, and our eyes lock, his dark brown gaze hot and desperate and hard with determination. I hold it there, just the tip of him inside me. I’m pretty sure I know how this is going to go, and I want to make sure we both get the most out of every second.

But then Ben surprises me. He slides his palms up from my hips to my ribs, and then cups my breasts. “Don’t move, Echo. Just…stay right there, just like that.”
 

One of his big hands covers my breast, rough palm scratching my nipple, and then he pinches the sensitive button and rolls it, flicks it with his thumb until I’m biting my lip and stifling a gasp. He moves his hand to the other side, and gives that nipple the same attention.
 

With his other hand, he drags his fingers down my belly to my clit, feathers a soft touch over it. “Touch yourself, Echo,” he tells me, his voice low and fierce. “Make yourself come.”

“I don’t need to come. I already did.”
 

“But I want to watch you come. I need to.”

My eyes locked on his, I bring my middle and ring fingers to my clit, replacing his touch with my own. He cups my tits and toys with them. Struggling to hold still, knowing if I move too much he’ll come, I start a rhythmic circling, finding the rhythm I know works best. It’s a slow touch at first, but it doesn’t take long before I’m gasping at the heat building inside me, and I’m fighting to keep my hips still, and then my eyes slide closed because I’m groaning.
 

I feel Ben watching me, feel him tensed and frozen solid beneath me, hear his ragged breath. And then I hear and feel nothing but the detonation building inside me. “I’m—I’m there, Ben. I’m coming.”
 

“I feel it,” he growls. “I feel you tightening. Come hard for me, Echo.”

It’s a wave crashing through me, sudden and hot and powerful, making my insides clamp, lightning zapping through me, and I feel my pussy clamping down, hear a wild shriek rip out of me.
 

Ben’s hands clutch my hips, and I throw my head back on my neck, arch my spine, palms flat on his belly, and I sink down on him. He pulls me down as I impale myself on him, hard, and I scream as he thrusts up. My climax shatters through me harder yet and he’s growling and cursing— “Oh fuck, Echo, fuck, you feel so good…” —and I feel him throbbing inside me as he prepares to unleash his own orgasm.

I fall forward as my climax wrings through me, unable to stay balanced upright any longer, and now I clash my mouth over his and taste blood as my teeth bash into his lips, but he doesn’t protest, only kisses me harder and his hands clutch my ass in a kneading vise-grip and pulls me onto him, and now I’m writhing, lifting up and forward and crashing down, fucking him desperately.
 

And then he’s gone, two thrusts and done, and I feel his come spurt hot and wet inside me and I stroke onto him even faster and harder, milking it out of him. Another thick gush fills me and he’s groaning wordlessly, thrusting with a stuttering rhythm, and I’m still coming too, whispering breathlessly “Fuck, fuck, oh my fucking god, Ben!”

His hips glide and flutter and pulse, and his cock throbs inside me, and I’m shaking with the aftershocks, unable to stop moving on him as each thrust makes me shudder and curse.
 

Finally, eventually, I can’t move anymore, can only collapse onto him, bury my face in his neck, tasting sweat on his skin. His palms skate over my shoulders and back and spine and ass and thighs, my ribs and into my hair and back down, smearing my own sweat.
 

“There,” I mutter. “Now you’re not a virgin.”
 

“Holy shit.”
 

I smile against his neck. “Was it what you thought it’d be?”

“Nope.” He shakes his head. “It was a whole fucking lot more.”

I’m still shuddering, still gasping for breath. It was a whole lot more for me too, but I don’t know how to say that, because it kind of scares me, so I don’t say anything. I just leave his softened dick inside me and cling to his neck and push away the thoughts and emotions roiling inside me.
 

I need to say something, though. There’s going to be the
so how was it for you
question, at some point, and that’s always just awkward. So I forestall it. “That, Benji-boy, was some good fucking.”

“Was it?”

I nod. “It was.” I lift up and press my palms to the pillow on either side of his head. “Really good.”
 

And I’m telling the truth, too. I’m not the type of girl to fake an orgasm or claim it was good when it wasn’t. I may not be blunt with the truth if it was bad, but I won’t lie about it. And what just happened with Ben, it was…
really
good. Top ten, ever. And I’m immediately hungry for more.
 

“Got a towel?” I ask.

He gets up and grabs a clean towel from the bathroom, but instead of handing it to me, stands beside me and hesitates. “Let me.”
 

So I show him how to clean me—top to bottom—and then he sets the towel aside and climbs into the bed beside me. His eyes roam my body. And then his hands follow suit, fingertips grazing my skin in random patterns, hip to hip across my belly, up between my breasts, tracing my shoulder and arm, around the mounded flesh of one breast and then the other. I just watch him touch me, content to let him do as he wishes and wait in this easy, companionable silence until he’s ready for more.

NINE: In the Bubble
 

Ben

I can’t seem to stop touching her. And, lucky me, she doesn’t seem inclined to make me. She just lies there on top of the sheet, naked and beautiful, her hair a tangled mess again, her skin flushed. Her eyes are closed, but I know she’s not asleep. I don’t know what she’s thinking, and I don’t ask. I just let my hands skate over her flesh, touching her everywhere¸ cupping her full high breasts and the bell-curve of her hips, her taut belly and her muscular thighs and her face and her hair.
 

Her eyes flick open and she glances at me. “You really like touching me, don’t you?”

“How could I not? You’re this incredibly sexy woman, and you’re naked in my bed, and you’re letting me touch you. Guy’s gotta make the most of the opportunity.”
 

She smiles at me, white teeth and red lips. “I’m not going anywhere just yet, Benji.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m just greedy,” I say.

She lets out a breath, then rolls to her side, and my hand comes to rest on her hip. “I guess I can handle that.” Her eyes move from mine to my shoulders and chest and arms, and then her hand follows the path of her eyes. “I might be slightly greedy myself.”

I watch her hand as it skates in a sinuous slide down my chest, through the path of hair on my belly leading downward, and then she’s cupping my balls and rolling them in her palm and fingers. We both watch her as she takes my softened dick in her hand and massages it, toys with the head of it between her fingers. Within moments, my cock begins to unfurl, straightening and hardening. A smile curves Echo’s lips upward as she works me into hardness, palming my erection as it begins to ache and strain.
 

“Well. Look at that. Ready again already.” Her eyes flick up to mine. “How greedy are you really, Benji-boy?”

“Get on and find out.”
 

Her pupils dilate, and her breath catches. “It’s like that, is it?”

“It’s like that.”
 

I feel powerful. I feel ravenous. I feel like every moment not inside her is a moment wasted. My heart begins to pound as she rolls toward me, slides her thigh over mine and presses her small hands to my chest. I take her by the hips and lift her off the bed, settle her lithe, lush curves onto my body. Her hair hangs in a blonde cascade on either side of her face, her lips part and she sucks in a sharp breath as I cup the generous swell of her ass. Her shins press into the mattress on either side of my legs, her palms support her weight on my chest, her tits sway.
 

She nestles my cock at her opening. Her eyes are more hazel in this moment than any other shade, and they’re locked on mine, and I couldn’t even begin to fathom what she’s thinking right now. I need to be inside her. I lift up and thrust, but she moves away.

“Ah-ah-ah,” she says, a sultry smile on her lips. “Not yet.”

She flutters her hips so her pussy slides around my cock, smearing her juices on me and making me growl. It’s a tease, though, because I don’t get any deeper, not the way I need. I grip her hips in my hands and try to pull her down, but she grins and just shakes her head.