First Time: Penny's Story (First Time (Penny) Book 1) (18 page)

He closed his eyes, a furrow
of concentration forming between his brows. I took that as my cue
to speed up a little. I thought about spitting in my hand, just to
make it a bit easier. Then I thought,
you
could just blow him, you know.

That was something else I’d never done. And,
right now, watching the way his jaw clenched and the muscles of his
forearm flexed as he squeezed his hand into a fist, I wanted to. I
wanted to blow his mind.

I licked my lips, leaned over, and sucked the
tip of him into my mouth, still pumping him with my hands. In no
time at all, he made a strangled noise of surprise, groaned, “Oh
fuck,” and thrust his hips up, his cock jerking in my mouth as he
came.

I didn’t really know what to do at that
point. This logical conclusion never occurred to me when I’d been
conceiving my spur-of-the-moment plan. I was too shocked by the
totally weird taste and texture, I made the split second decision
to swallow, and he shivered violently.

When I sat back up and pushed my hair away
from my face, he stared at me, mortified. “I am so sorry. I didn’t
have any time to warn you.”

I dropped my head and laughed. “I’ll take
that as praise.”

“
And fully deserved.” He
half sat up. “Give me a second. I’ve got to go clean up a
bit.”

I reached for my glass of wine. “Okay. I’ll
just finish this.”

“
Again,” he said as he
stood, “I am sorry.”

“
Don’t worry about it.” I
shrugged. “I guess I’m as good with my mouth as I am with my
hands.”

He made that strangled noise again, and
headed off to the bathroom.

I lay back on the couch with a contented
sigh. I was awfully proud of myself for the initiative I’d taken. I
deserved two orgasms when I got home.

He came back and sat beside me. “Thank
you.”

“
Any time,” I told him with
a smirk. It wasn’t just to get a reaction; I really meant any time.
I could easily get addicted to making Ian come. There was something
intimidating about dating a guy who wasn’t just charming and funny,
but who really had his life together. Logically, I knew it was
stupid to compare my life to his. He’d had more time than I’d had
to get a great career and his own apartment and pull in enough
money to actually live on. Still, being able to have him so
completely helpless in my hands gave me a thrill of power. And the
fact that he’d been so turned on gave me a sense of
pride.

He pulled me into his arms and brushed his
lips across my cheek. He kissed the corner of my jawbone. “I
apologize for the interruption.”

Interruption?
“I thought we were done.”

He stilled, his lips beside my ear. “Do
you…want to be?”

“
What? No, believe me, I am
totally fine with this. I just figured that since you
already…”

“
But you didn’t.”

“
I usually
don’t.”

“
Wait.” He leaned up, his
brow furrowed. “You’ve been giving men absolutely splendid hand
jobs—”

“
Thanks!” I beamed at
him.

“
Praise well-deserved,” he
assured me, and went on, “but none of those men ever made you
come?”

No, but listening to that
sentence almost made you the first.
“Not
because they weren’t good at it. They probably were. I didn’t let
them try.”

“
Oh,” he said, and he didn’t
press for more details.

So I added, “It was too intimate. O-orgasming
in front of someone.”

Orgasming?
How clinical could I possibly sound? And where had
all of that sexual confidence gone? I’d already had his dick in my
mouth, it wasn’t like I could go back to being a shy
flower.

His frown changed to one of thoughtfulness.
“Fair enough. In that case, forget I mentioned it.”

Forget he mentioned it? I
wanted him so badly I was almost willing to ignore a family legend
and lose my virginity after four dates with him. And he’d just
offered to make me come. What would that be like? I mean, I knew
what coming was like. But to have someone else, to have
Ian,
getting me off? That
was going to be unbelievable. How could I pass it up?

“
I don’t want to forget it,”
I said with a nervous laugh. “I want you to do it.”

His eyebrows shot up.

“
Let’s do it. I’ll call it a
trial run.” I couldn’t believe how I was behaving. This was not me.
At least, not me in real life. Me in my sexual fantasies would come
on this strong. Maybe that was the version of Penny I wanted to be
with Ian.

He smiled slowly. “A trial run?”

“
In case I ever decide to
have sex with you, obviously.” I wriggled my hips. My confidence
was at an all time high, and I didn’t want it to fade. I licked my
puffy bottom lip. “So…what do I do?”

He bent his head and kissed me. It didn’t
matter that my mouth was practically numb from sensation overload;
the touch still electrified my whole body. Going home, using my
vibrator for thirty seconds, and falling asleep no longer seemed
like a satisfactory end to the evening. His hand squeezed my hip,
then glided up, under my shirt, to cup my breast again. Chills
skated down my arms, and a sharp breath pushed my flesh more fully
into his hand.

“
What you should do,” he
murmured against my cheek, “is tell me if I do anything you don’t
like. And tell me what you do like. I want to learn how to make you
come, and it works a lot better with direction than trial and
error.”

“
Oh god.” I tipped my head
back. Ian’s sexy voice alone was enough to make me tingle in every
place I could possibly tingle. “Just keep talking like
that.”

He reached down to slowly pull the zipper of
my jeans. Parting my fly with one finger, he stroked up and down
the front of my lace panties. “What? Talking about how much I want
to make you come?”

“
Mhmm,” was all I could
manage. My knees shook. He hadn’t even touched my skin
yet.

“
I bet it’s beautiful when
you do,” he went on. Two fingers rubbed up and down my slit over my
panties. “I can’t wait to hear how you sound.”

I stifled a moan.

“
Don’t do that,” he said,
his voice soft, but his tone firm. “Nobody will hear you but
me.”

And I wanted him to hear me. I was just so
used to not being heard I hadn’t remembered that making noise was
an option. His hands could conduct a whole symphony of noise from
me. “Make me get loud, then.”

“
Ah, fuck,” he groaned. He
slipped his hand under my panties, and my breath caught.

My jeans were too tight, that became
painfully clear when his hand was trapped in them. My palms got
sweaty, and my stomach flipped over on itself. I was going to have
to remove some clothing. I pushed my pants down a little. “Do you
mind if I take these off?”

“
Not at all. It’ll
definitely make things easier.” He withdrew his hand long enough
for me to shimmy out of the tight denim. I left my panties on; it
was stupid, I knew, but somehow, the thought of him seeing me
half-naked made me feel shyer than the thought of him actually
touching me.

He didn’t ask me to take
them off, but he did hook a finger beneath one side and tugged down
slightly. “Ah. Now there is the octopus
I
have been wanting to
meet.”

I laughed and pushed him away from my tattoo.
“If you don’t get your hand back to where it was, I’m going to
cry.”

“
Well, I don’t want that,”
he said with a smile, and leaned over to kiss me as he slid his
hand under my panties again. He cupped my mound and I lifted my
hips; this was too much of a tease, when I wanted direct
stimulation. I supposed I could have told him that—he wanted to
know what I liked, after all—but I liked the anticipation. I opened
my legs wider for him. The length of his finger pressed between my
labia, and I arched up; he followed my body with this fingertip
until he found my clit.

He may as well have shocked me with a taser,
for the way I reacted. I felt like I’d been blown apart by
lightning. I gripped his shoulder, hard, and my nails sank into his
shirt.

“
Easy,” he said, laughing
softly. “I appreciate the compliment, but I also appreciate having
skin.”

“
Sorry.” I pulled him
closer. I needed him closer. He rubbed slow circles over and over
my clit, and my breath stopped with each one. It would be so
embarrassing to hyperventilate and need medical attention from
this.

It was also embarrassing how close I was
getting so fast. Ian may have been worried that he’d come so soon,
but was he going to think I was totally hard-up because of
this?

“
May I go inside?” he asked,
gliding his fingers down. His thumb replaced them on my clit, still
rubbing those lazy circles.

“
Yeah,” I breathed. I had to
force myself to relax when the excitement pounding through me
demanded I tense up. I was blasting through firsts tonight, and the
exhilaration was overpowering.

Slowly, he pushed two fingers into me. A
shocked exhale rushed out of me. I’d fingered myself before, but
his hands were a lot different than mine, slightly rougher and
definitely larger. My muscles clenched, and he dropped his head
with a low groan. It didn’t take a huge leap to figure out what he
was imagining, and that made me imagine it, too. I’d thought I
couldn’t get any wetter, but I’d been wrong.

He swirled his fingertips
just inside the opening of my vagina. It was pretty obvious what he
was looking for, and he was
almost
there, but I needed it so bad I had to direct
him.

“
It’s just a little deeper,”
I whimpered.

“
Thank God you know where it
is,” he said with a laugh. “That makes it much easier to
find.”

He found it. Oh god, he found it. I bucked my
hips and gripped the back of the couch. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh
fuck,” I chanted, and heard him murmur something under his breath.
I hardly ever swore like that, but at the moment, I couldn’t help
it. Touching myself felt good. Using my vibrator? Even better. But
it felt different when it was someone else doing it. I knew exactly
what I liked, and it took me no time at all on my own. Ian had to
learn, and his trial and error exploration just made the pleasure
last and last, until that unstoppable up-hill rush tightened all my
muscles and burst in a shock of ecstasy. My mouth froze open. Maybe
I was trying to scream? I couldn’t tell, because my mind was
blissfully blank, my clit still pulsing under Ian’s thumb.

“
Do you want to keep going?”
he asked, stroking the fingers of his other hand over my belly,
under my shirt. The hand in my panties stilled, but stayed where it
was, exerting the same pressure over the parts where I still
throbbed from my orgasm.

“
What?” My voice was
hoarse.

“
Do you want to come again?”
he asked. “Honestly, I could do this all night.”

“
Yes!” The word burst from
my mouth without having to consider the answer. Which was good,
because I might have decided it would be polite to tell him no or
something absolutely stupid like that. I’d never tried for
multiples before, because it always felt too sensitive, but I was
being reckless and sexy, and I was totally under his power. It was
a good thing I’d told him I didn’t want to have sex—well,
intercourse—because I would have begged him to fuck me if I’d been
able to talk.

I’d come down a little, but not very much,
when he started that slow swirl of his thumb again. It was an odd
feeling, like I wanted him to stop because it was too much but keep
going because it wasn’t enough. The fingers inside of me wriggled
and rubbed over my g-spot, and I arched up as if pulled by a cord
strung right between my hips. His free hand slid beneath my shirt
to cup my breast and tease my nipple with his thumb, and the
sensation tugged something deep in my pelvis. He leaned down to
kiss me, and I held his face in my hands, sucking at his tongue as
I rode his fingers and muffled my scream of release with his
mouth.

I broke away, panting. “Okay. Okay, that’s
enough.”

He withdrew his hand gently, while my pulse
still pounded and my legs still jerked. Before my utterly
disbelieving eyes, he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked
them clean.

No. Fucking. Way.

My thighs trembled. Shock must have showed on
my face, because he smirked a little. “Is there anything I can get
you?”

“
Water,” I croaked. I felt
like I’d just gone for a brutal run at the hottest part of the day.
My muscles hurt, I was impossibly thirsty, yet I was completely
satisfied with myself and what my body could do. But the aftermath
was so much better than any runner’s high.

He kissed my cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

I closed my eyes and flopped sideways. My
everything was too tired to put my pants back on. The white throw
was still over the back of the couch, so I pulled it down to cover
myself. The jeans he’d stuffed under it last week tumbled across
me, belt and all. I laughed.

“
What’s so funny?” he called
from the kitchen.

How adorably hopeless you
are.
I sat up and folded the jeans, then
tossed them down the couch. “Nothing. Just tons of
endorphins.”

“
Ah.” He came back with a
cold bottle of water and handed it to me. “I suppose I’ve done my
job.”