Teach Me Dirty (20 page)

But he was better. He was so much better than my sketches.

His chest was lean, and dusted with a smattering of dark hair. His nipples were darker than I imagined, and harder under my fingertips. His stomach was toned but soft to the touch, and he was warm. He was so warm.

“You’re far better than any sketch I’ve ever done.”

It amused him, I could tell, his eyes twinkled in the lamplight. “The lady is easily pleased, it seems.”

I traced my fingers down his arms, and they were so firm. His hair felt nice to the touch, fine and soft. “No,” I said. “You’re just perfect. Everything I ever wanted.”

“Save that judgement until after.” He kissed my lips and I opened my mouth for him, and his tongue hunted mine, chased me down as his body positioned itself over mine. He unbuckled his belt, and wriggled from his trousers, and I felt him against me, the weight of his erection on my thigh.

And it felt big.

Big enough to make me nervous.

I was nervous.

“You’re ready?”

I nodded. “Please.”

“My pleasure.” His thighs nudged mine open, and I took a breath. “I’ll take it slow.”

I felt him press against me, felt him rub himself back and forth, teasing and pushing. It hurt for a moment, and I felt myself open up, just a little bit.

His breath was fast in my ear. “That’s it, Helen, that’s good. Nice and easy.”

He moved his hips and pushed against me again, and it hurt again. He stopped. Let me clench and wriggle around him.

“Are you ok?”

I nodded. “I’m good… don’t stop…”

His hips circled, tiny motions back and forth, so gently, opening me up and pushing deeper, and stopping again when I flinched.

And then something came over me, something needy and primal. I reached for him, pulling him closer, wanting him inside me.

“Take me,” I breathed. “Please, take me…”

He kissed me on the lips and pushed.

He pushed harder, and it hurt, and if the hurt had been a sound it would be high-pitched and sharp, a little sharp nick of pain. “Ow…”

“Nearly…”

He thrust and it hurt again, hurt deeper, but I wanted it so much. “Yes…”

“Good girl…” One final push and I felt the warmth of his belly against mine, and I was full of him, I could feel everything, clenching around him as he kissed my forehead. And it felt amazing, it felt like a beautiful dream. I felt like he was all the way in me, everywhere. “Fuck,” he said. “You feel so good.”

He moved his hips and it was tender inside, tender enough that I held my breath, but I was wet, I could hear it. I heard the noises as he slid in and out of me.

I wrapped my legs around him, and made myself move, made myself move how my body thought it should move, and it was sore, and weird, and deep, and really intense, but I was flying high, grinning.

“Is this everything you hoped for?” He kissed my forehead and sank into me and I groaned.

“More… it’s more…” I looked up at him, and his eyes were burning.

“Tell me if it gets too much.”

I nodded, and gasped as he thrust in harder, but it wasn’t painful like it had been, just… deep…

A rhythm. A beautiful slow rhythm that was taking me away. He moved and I moved with him, and I felt him, felt everything. Felt his breath on my lips and his eyes on mine, and the strain in his legs as he pushed in and out of me. I felt so close to him, closer than I’ve ever felt to anyone, and he kissed me like I was beautiful, like I was a woman, a real woman, like he wanted me more than anyone else in the universe.

He tilted his hips and it changed everything. I sucked in my breath and felt myself flutter inside, and it hurt a good hurt until it didn’t hurt at all. And he grunted, and pushed hard, and the rhythm got faster. And I heard his skin, slapping mine, and I couldn’t stop squirming.

“I’m going to come, is that ok?” he whispered.

And I nodded, I nodded into his neck and his body shuddered and jolted and slapped against mine. He hissed out his breath and pushed all the way in and I could feel his heartbeat against my chest and it was fast. And I felt him, I felt his excitement, I felt the way he needed me, the way he lost control, the way he wanted this.

I loved it when he came.

I’d never loved anything as much as the feeling when he came inside me.

His breath was heavy and his skin was hot and the weight of him pinned me to the bed. And he was still inside me. I could still feel him inside me. And I was throbbing around him, and he was throbbing too.

He kissed my lips and my cheeks and my eyes.

He kissed all of me.

And I never wanted him to stop.

Not ever.

Not until the end of time.

***

Mark

Such an alien sense of euphoria, the feeling of closeness with another human body, the release and the endorphins and the smell of sex on the air. I’d missed that.

I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed that until Helen Palmer’s beautiful body was underneath mine.

And she really was beautiful. It wasn’t just the beauty of her flesh, of her sweet little nipples and soft breasts, of the twinkle in her eyes and the halo of silky mahogany hair around her head,

Helen’s beauty was so much deeper. She had a beautiful soul, a beautiful, pure spirit. She was exquisitely sensitive, an innocent, a delicate flower blossoming.

I was transfixed by her.

I was consumed by her.

And I was perplexed by how a lust so forbidden could feel so divine.

I pulled out slowly, carefully, and inched my body from hers, keeping an arm across her stomach as I lay at her side. She stared at the ceiling, eyes glazed.

Her fingers found me. They stroked my arm, back and forth, absentmindedly but in perfect rhythm.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

She tipped her head towards mine, and she was smiling. “I’m just… happy…”

I pressed my lips to her forehead.

“…I can’t believe this is really real. It really is. It’s real. I wanted this for so long.” Her smile grew wider. “It’s like a dream. A perfect dream. The best dream ever.”

“It’s not a dream, Helen.”

“I can still feel you. I can feel where you’ve been. I feel… different.”

“Does it hurt? Are you sore?”

She shook her head. “No. Just… different.” She slipped her fingers between her legs, then sat up with a jolt. I sat up with her, following her gaze as she shifted on the bedcovers. I watched her cheeks darken as she uncovered a pink-red stain on the bedding. “Oh no, I’ve made a mess.”

“It’s not a mess,” I said.

“I’m really sorry.”

I leaned in to kiss her shoulder. “Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Her smile came back, and there was a girlishness to it. “I did it.
We
did it.” She didn’t take her eyes from the bedding. “I’m not a virgin anymore.”

“You’re definitely not a virgin anymore, Helen.”

“This is us.” She traced the outline of the stain, ran a finger around its dark edges as it bled further into the fabric, and it was still wet. Wet with her, wet with me. Glossy from the part of me I’d left within her. Her eyes flicked to mine and they were full of nerves. “Was it ok for you? Was I…ok?”

“You were beautiful.” I slid my fingers over hers. “You were so much more than ok.”

“I was?”

I pulled her close, until her chest was tight against mine and her arms folded around my neck. “You were so good, Helen.” I smoothed her hair. “You were perfect.”

She breathed against my neck. “I feel like I’ll burst, like my heart can’t contain these feelings.” She squeezed me hard. “I’m so happy…”

“And tired,” I said. “You must be tired.”

“A little.” I felt her eyelashes flutter against my skin. “Can I… stay? With you?” Her breath was soft. “In here?”

My arms held her so tightly I feared I would never let her go. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I pulled the covers from under us, and kept her in my arms as I lay down. She sighed a happy sigh, and pressed herself against me, the whole length of her, her skin against my skin, her legs tangling with my legs.

“I want to stay like this forever…” Her voice was a whisper. “I want to stay right here… in this moment…”

And so did I. My heart felt raw and open, and it pained with a need long buried. The need to feel another person beside me. The need to be seen by another person. The need to be known by another person.

“…sorry… I shouldn’t say that…I’ve just never felt like this before… I feel like I’m flying…”

“You can say it,” I said. “You can tell me anything.”

And I wished she would. I wished she’d tell me everything. I wanted everything, all of her, every secret in her heart, every lie she’d ever told, every dream she’d ever dreamed. And it scared me.

The strength of my feelings for the girl in my arms scared me.

She was the greatest gift. The greatest treasure.

“Goodnight, Mr Roberts.”

I kissed her soft lips until she gasped for breath, until her heart thumped against mine, until her toes clenched and curled around mine.

“It’s Mark,” I said.

***

No alarm, just the sun creeping in through the curtains, and the caw of a crow somewhere high. My bed was so warm with Helen in my arms. I opened my eyes, and hers were already watching me.

Her hair was a dark tangle on my pillow, her face just an inch from mine, fascinated, as though I was some exotic apparition.

“Did you sleep at all?” I asked.

She nodded. “A little.”

I smiled at her, reached up to stroke her face. “You should sleep.”

Her fingers gripped mine and brought them to her lips. “I was excited… and scared… and couldn’t sleep.”

“Why scared?”

“Scared for my heart… scared that you’ll regret this…” Her nervousness was innocent and sweet. “Do you?”

“No.” And I didn’t. As much as I should do, I didn’t regret taking Helen Palmer’s virginity.

“Really?”

“Really.”

I watched her come alive, the sparkle in her expression setting me alight. “I still can’t believe this is really happening.”

I kissed her fingertips. “It’s really happening.”

My beautiful Helen was stunning in the morning light. I soaked my eyes over her freckles, and the flecks of green in her irises. She looked so young. So very young.

“You should sleep,” I said. “Get some rest.”

“I just want to… I waited so long…” Her thigh pressed between mine. “Can I see you? Please?” Her thigh moved, and made my morning wood considerably woodier. “Can I touch?”

I rolled onto my back and let out my breath. “Please do.”

Her eyes were hungry, lips parted as she teased the covers down my body. The room was cool but her gaze burned my skin. I groaned as she tugged the covers down over my hard-on, and my cock sprang back to thump against my belly.

I took her little fingers in mine and wrapped them around me, and then I thrust, slowly, back and forth in her hand. Her grip was divine.

She shifted position, and I let out a groan as I knew where she was headed. She paused, her lips just inches from the head of me, her little hand still taking my thrusts.

“I’ve never done this…” she whispered.

“It’s ok,” I assured. “Just take it slowly.”

“I want to taste…”

She opened her mouth and her tongue fluttered out. The contact jolted like electricity and I wrapped my fingers in her hair. “Christ, Helen...”

A quaky breath and she took me between her lips, and she was soft and delicate and gentle. I could feel heat behind my eyes, my balls straining and aching.

“Yes, Helen, that’s it. That’s right.”

I helped her mouth with my hand, rubbing myself as she fluttered her tongue around the head of me. My balls tightened, and she moaned softly as she felt my cock twitching.

“You’re going to make me come.”

She moaned her assent.

“That’s my beautiful girl… suck me…”

The girl was faultless in her enthusiasm. She opened wide and took me into her mouth, and she was so eager, too eager, taking me far too deep in her inexperienced throat, where she retched and spluttered then pulled away, wiping away trails of saliva with the back of her hand. She smiled at me and her cheeks were pink.

“This looked so much easier on the internet. It works so easily on the internet…”

“Forget about the internet,” I said. “Just find what works for you.”

She took a breath and tried again, more slowly this time, but she was still forcing it, still throwing herself in too hard. Her eyes watered as she fought back the urge to retch.

“I’m sorry…” she spluttered. “I’m trying…”

“Don’t ever be sorry for trying, Helen. You’re doing great.”

“I so want to be good at this…”

“You
are
good at this, you’re good at everything.”

She giggled. “
You’re
good at lying.”

But I wasn’t. I’ve never been good at lying. She
was
good, she was
excellent,
not in technique so much as desire. She was an open book, vulnerable and authentic and unadulterated, and it was magical. Helen was magical. She took a steadier approach, taking me into her mouth slowly, back and forth as she tried to find her rhythm.

“That’s it…” I said, taking her hair. “That’s nice…”

She was a keen student, as always, and she sank into her groove, sucking gently as she moved in rhythm, her lips tight around my shaft, her tongue a butterfly of pleasure. Her mouth made soft, wet noises, and they were delicious enough to drive me insane. I picked up speed around my cock, gripping her hand and guiding it in time with her mouth, until I was bucking with my hips. Reaching the edge.

“Taste me…”

Her eyes met mine and they were wide with understanding. She pulled away and nodded, letting me take over the rhythm of her hand around my cock.

“I’m close…” I said, and she opened her mouth and licked her lips, and the sparkle in her eyes made me warm and fuzzy. She was stunning. Absolutely breathtakingly stunning.

My thighs tensed, and my cock jerked, and she was waiting, unworldly and beautifully trusting and full of nerves.

She flinched as the first spurt hit, coating her pretty lips and dribbling down her chin. She closed her mouth in shock, but I was too far gone to stop, and the next spurt caught her right across her face. It was a comely mess, and all the more so when a third spurt caught her in the eye. She blinked, once, twice before she wiped away the smear, and she was giggling, laughing at herself.

“I think it’s safe to say I messed that up…”

I was smiling, laughing a laugh that was nothing more than a hiss of breath as my body came down from my release. “It was your first go. I messed up as much as you did.”

“You didn’t,” she said. “I liked it, anyway.” She blinked again. “My eye is stinging, though. Is it supposed to sting? And it’s salty, isn’t it? Really salty.” She licked her chin. “I can live with salty… I like salty…”

“It’s better to avoid your eyes. Does tend to sting, unfortunately.”

“I need more practice…”

“I’m never going to say no to more of that, Helen.”

The mood changed as she registered my choice of words, and I took a breath and she did, too.

My beautiful girl was beautifully dirty; the tops of her thighs dry with blood and sex, and her face splotched with cum, and humour and an irresistible hint of self-consciousness.

I pushed myself up from the bed, and reached out a hand. “Come,” I said. “Let’s get you all cleaned up.”

***

Helen

I screwed my eyes shut and let Mr Roberts lead me, and I was laughing. My eyes were stinging, and my cheeks felt weird and clammy, and I was still sore and sensitive between my legs. But I was happy.

Oh my God, was I happy.

He led me along the corridor, and through a doorway, and there were tiles under my feet. He dropped my hand, and I opened my eyes enough to take in my surroundings. His bathroom was as artistically disorganised as the rest of his house, with plants trailing from the windowsill and paintbrushes resting on the basin. I watched him reach into the bathtub and turn on the shower head, and he tested the heat of the water, only pulling back the shower curtain when we were good to go.

I stepped up into the bath and into his arms, and it was so warm there, cocooned in his grip as the shower rained down on me. He tipped my face up to the cascade, and I held my breath and closed my eyes as his fingers washed away the stickiness and the saltiness and the stinging.