I Really Can't Stay

"Nancy?" he murmured, his lips brushing mine as he spoke.

"Yes?"

"How far are you wanting to take this? Because—"

"As far as you want."

He stopped kissing me, pulling back and studying my face after hearing my response.

"That's pretty far, doll." His voice masked his desire beneath a warning tone. "Don't you have a perfect reputation to uphold?"

Oh.

Didn't I?

I swallowed hard as he looked at me, justifications for telling him to stop swirling around my head. The voices were insistent: this isn't what good girls do, said one. He'll ruin you for someone else, said another. It's a downright sin, Nancy Parker, said a third. Statement after statement in voices that were echoes of my mother and my father and my sister and the neighbours and all the people who weren't in the room with me.

With us.

But what did I want? Well...

"It's not so perfect. I mean, I have been to Neck'n The Woods."

He chuckled, and the warmth of his breath tickled my nose. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," I said. "And I want it to be you. I've always wanted it to be you."

He exhaled loudly, the spot between his eyebrows creasing as he battled with what I had said. "That's a far cry from what you said earlier. Didn't want people to think you were easy."

"Do you think I'm easy?"

"God, no," he said, laughing. "You're incredibly difficult, Nancy Parker."

Giggling, I pressed my lips to his. "Well, if you don't think I'm easy, then that's what matters. Fuck what other people think, remember?"

I felt his lips turn up into a smile, and some of the tension in his shoulders released. Suddenly he was bolder, still gentle but more confident, and the hand that wasn't around my shoulders began to wander. It traced up the edges of the robe I was wearing, sneaking past the knot in the belt and inside, brushing past my stomach and up to my breasts. Through the thin fabric of the nightgown, he traced my curves, fingers moving back and forth until they were brushing across the hardness of my nipples.

I inhaled sharply as he tweaked them, rolling the hard nubs between his fingers. Bruce groaned and his mouth moved from my lips to my jawbone, then down to my neck. He kissed and sucked the tender skin there, moving from just below my ear down to the top of my collarbone. His fingers continued their work, the fabric of the nightgown bunching in his palms as he fondled me.

When he let go of my breasts, I was a bit disappointed. He was so warm, so gentle but so intoxicating, that I could have let him play with me all night. His hand only left for a moment, though. As he continued to kiss my neck, he worked the knot of the robe's belt, undoing it deftly. Once it was untied, he pushed the robe open and bunched the nightgown between his fingers until he found the hem. His hand slid up my leg, pausing momentarily when his fingers brushed the bare skin on my hip.

"Nancy, doll, where are your panties?" he murmured, his lips moving against my neck.

"Hanging on the drying rack," I replied.

He groaned. The way I was positioned, he had no access to my pussy, and I most certainly wanted that to change.

I shrugged my shoulders and Bruce moved his arm. Pulling my legs underneath me, I moved into Bruce's lap, facing him as my legs rested on either side of his hips. He grinned, holding the blanket around me as I settled against him. My hands came to his chest, resting lightly as I leaned in to kiss him again, and his hands moved to my hips.

Beneath me, I could feel the bulge of his erection straining against his trousers. I tentatively moved my hips. Bruce swore and nipped at my lip.

"Careful, sweetheart. Do that too much and it'll go off."

"Isn't that the point?"

His tongue slid into my mouth as his fingers gripped my hips. "Not quite yet."

I shivered as his fingers resumed tracing up my skin. Slowly, they moved from my hips to my stomach, tickling beside my belly button and over to my waist. I inhaled sharply as he touched my ribs, then slowly inched his hand closer and closer to my breasts. When his knuckles met the underside of my breast, he paused, pulling back to glance up at me.

"You sure? Really, really sure?"

I brought my hand to his.

"My chest is cold, Bruce," I whispered, and pushed his hand up to my breast.

He let out a breath, his eyes leaving mine as he looked at my chest. My breasts weren't quite big enough to fill his hand, but he didn't seem to mind. His fingers prodded my skin, exploring and teasing me, his grip warm and his fingers nimble. When he touched my nipple, I squirmed on his lap, and he swore again.

"Careful," he said again, panting.

"It's not my fault," I said haughtily. "You're the one who made it feel good."

He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and he kissed me again.

"Sure, blame it all on me," he said. "All I'm trying to do is warm poor, shivering Nancy Parker up, and somehow it's all my fault that she's sitting on my lap and rubbing herself against my..."

He trailed off and his mouth dropped open as I boldly moved my hands between our bodies, carefully working the button of his trousers open. He swallowed hard, watching as I slipped my hand inside and found the thick, stiff cause of the bulge in his pants.

I hadn't gone all the way with Tommy, but I'd gone some of the way. I'd touched him, and I'd put my hand down his pants, and I'd used my hand to get him off, but there's only so much you can see in a car parked down a dark lane. He'd never taken his pants off all the way, and I'd never done more than glance down.

With Bruce, I could see a lot more. Part of it was probably because there was a lot more to see, it seemed. My fingers wrapped around his shaft, withdrawing him from beneath his clothing, and I held my breath as it came out of his trousers. It was swollen, thicker than Tommy's, and the head was glistening.

And that was going to go... oh, my.

"Having second thoughts?" he asked, his voice kind.

I refused to be scared. Instead, I bit my lip as I glanced up at him.

"I thought your hands were warm, but this seems to be much warmer," I said innocently. "Maybe I should try using this to warm me up?"

"That's a great idea," he said hoarsely. "If your hands are still cold, you could try, uh..."

He groaned, interrupting himself as I slowly began to move my hand up and down.

"Yeah, that," he finally said, his head tilting back.

I laughed, leaning forward and kissing his exposed neck as I played with him. The swollen head was dripping, sticky fluid coating my palm as I spread it along his rod. He seemed to forget he had one hand beneath my nightgown until I pushed my chest forward, shoving my breast into his palm.

He got the hint, resuming his exploration as I stroked him. He brought his head back forward, kissing me as we touched each other, our breaths both quickening as we worked to make the other person feel good.

I hoped he was feeling as good as he was making me feel. The muted noises escaping his throat and the way his cock twitched in my hand made it seem like he was, but who knew? As for me, the fire in the living room wasn't the only one he had lit that night. There was a flickering, yearning, infuriatingly good feeling pooling in the pit of my stomach, buried somewhere between my belly button and my spine. Between my legs was a mess of arousal, wetness that coated my lips and thighs. Each time he tweaked my nipple, another drop of desire collected inside me.

When I couldn't take it anymore, I stopped moving my hand and pulled away from his mouth. "Bruce."

"Yeah?" he whispered breathlessly.

"I'm still cold."

He swallowed hard. "Uh, where?"

I bit my lip. "Inside, I think."

"Oh." His face was stoic but his eyes took on a familiar playfulness. "That's not good."

"Not at all," I agreed. "Think you can help?"

"Maybe," he said. "I'm going to have to see how cold you are. Inside, I mean."

I bit my lip, trying not to giggle. "That makes sense. How are you gonna do that?"

His hands moved to my hips, guiding me up and forward so his cock was positioned beneath me. "I'm gonna have to stick this inside you. To, uh, take your temperature. Is that okay?"

My heart stuttered painfully fast. It was okay; it was more than okay. I wanted it, more than I'd wanted anything before, but... well. There were years upon years and woman after woman telling me to never, never, never let a man do what I was about to let Bruce do, not unless he married me first. And why? Because it felt too good? Because someone said I needed a certificate before I could decide if I wanted to let him do it or not?

I almost let myself fall prey to those thoughts. I almost told him I couldn't go through with it.

But I wanted to. I wanted that thick, hard thing to push inside me. I wanted to know what it was like.

Most of all, I wanted him.

I finally nodded. Bruce moved one hand between us, and the other guided my hips down. I inhaled as the head of his cock brushed against my slit. His eyes met mine, orange firelight reflecting back at me.

"Last chance, doll," he whispered.

The echoes of those voices telling me to stop made a final plea. I didn't just ignore them; I silenced them as I kissed him, shifting my hips so the head of his cock was positioned at my entrance. It teased the dripping hole and he rewarded me with a groan that vibrated against my mouth. Slowly, carefully, I lowered myself onto him. There was a moment where the head of his cock just barely touched me, and half a moment later, there was a feeling almost like a pinch as it breached my entrance. My mouth dropped open as I felt him enter me, my pussy stretching to accommodate the thick tip penetrating it. I paused and Bruce pressed his forehead to mine.

"Go slow," he directed.

I nodded, not able to meet his eyes. He moved his hand out from between us, wrapping it around my waist as I sank down onto him. Each inch of him entered me, stretching me, filling a place no one had ever filled before. Swallowing hard, I kept moving, and let out a soft exhale as the base of his cock met the lips of my pussy.

Bruce was inside me. The man I'd been secretly in love with as a girl and still adored as a woman was finally inside me, and it... hurt.

I stopped there, holding myself in place. It didn't hurt badly. Aside from that slight pinch, I hadn't felt anything specifically painful. Still, the best word I could think of to describe how it felt was that it hurt. There was a sensation of fullness that I wasn't quite sure I enjoyed. I could feel myself stretched around him, my body just past the point of comfort when it came to having something new inside of it. Carefully, I took one breath, and then another. Bruce waited, not moving, just holding me as I sat on top of him.

"Nancy?" he said after a moment.

I took that to mean he wanted me to move and started to lift myself so we could start properly doing it, but his arms tightened and he stopped me.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm."

"No, you aren't. Hold still. I said I didn't want to hurt you."

I hadn't been expecting that, and I didn't quite know what to do. All I could do was stare into his eyes. The only noise was our quiet breathing and the crackle of the fire behind us. He held me, his hand rubbing my back, his desire painfully obvious and at war with whatever made him hold still, made him wait, made him make sure I was all right.

I kissed him. I didn't quite decide to do it; one moment I was staring into his eyes and my heart was swelling with a feeling I couldn't quite name, and the next I needed his mouth so badly that I simply took it. As we kissed, the strangeness of the sensation faded and that yearning place in my body began to demand more. I rocked my hips experimentally,

Bruce made a muffled noise and his hands moved to my sides, tangling in the nightgown. After a moment's struggle, he grumbled in frustration and grabbed the hem, barely giving me time to shrug the dressing gown off before he was tearing the nightgown over my head. The cool air hissed at my suddenly bare skin, but I could feel the warmth from the fire radiating and Bruce's hot gaze as he took in my body. He glanced back up at me after a moment, his hand moving to my breasts again and playing with my nipples.

I rocked my hips again, and the good sensation became a great sensation. Instead of an uncomfortable fullness when he was fully inside me, there was a hollowness as he pulled out, and I began to crave that full feeling. Moaning softly, I moved a little faster, then lifted my body a little more, then giggled as Bruce groaned and stared at my breasts as I rode him.

He leaned forward, his mouth seeking my nipple, sucking it into his mouth as I steadily moved on top of him. Pleasure radiated from my breasts, knotting with the flood of passion he was causing between my legs and making my body stir, a flaming rush filling me.

It felt good. It felt so good. It felt unreasonably good, that weightlessness, that hum of exhilaration, that indescribable desire for more. Excitement overloaded my senses in a way it never had before. I had never felt like that, never felt that divine hunger, never felt the furious neediness that Bruce was making me feel. I had no idea what it was, no idea why it was happening, and when my legs started to tremble, I gripped his shoulder tightly.

"Bruce," I moaned. "I... I feel... oh, my God."

"Oh yes," he breathed, letting go of my nipple to look up at me. "Oh, come on, Nance. Come for me."

"What?" I gasped. "What is happening?!"

He almost laughed, I think, but I couldn't be sure. He held me with one arm, shoving his other hand between us and moving it to the little nub between my legs. I almost shrieked as he touched me, the pleasure too much, the feeling too good, the thrumming and throbbing and tingling of something I couldn't name overloading my senses.

That thing took over me. It controlled my breathing, it took charge of my mind, it manipulated my body into one that knew what to do, that knew how to move to get what it wanted. It was like being on a fast-moving Ferris wheel, like standing on the edge of a diving board, like falling back into someone's arms... it was like all of those things, and none of them.

Bruce's breath was hot on my skin, his arms strong around me and his fingers deftly working between my legs. When the moment hit, that moment where the Ferris wheel lurched forward and I fell off the diving board and I closed my eyes and tilted backward, he was holding me and watching me and smiling. I could see that smile, even as my eyes slammed shut and my hips rocked madly on top of him. It was burned into my memory, the sparkle in his eyes, and the delight on his lips, seared into the darkness by the flashes of white light that overtook my vision.

It lasted forever; it was over too soon. I took a heaving breath and realized Bruce was pushing up inside me, opening my eyes to see a look of concentrated neediness on his face. Still panting, I started moving again, unsure of when I had stopped but knowing he needed it. Some instinct, some deep-rooted sense that told me what to do, was telling me he needed it.

He needed me.

The hand that had been between us moved out. I felt the warm wetness that had collected on his fingertips as he grabbed my hip, the other hand dry as his fingers dug into my flesh. His lips were parted as his gaze bored into me, his hands pushing and pulling on my hips as he worked towards his finish.

"Nancy," he breathed. I felt the airiness of his words brush against my lips. Moments later, his lips were on mine, and I kissed him heatedly as our bodies moved together.

When he stopped kissing me, it seemed almost reluctant. It seemed like he wanted to keep kissing me, to hold me tight to him, but his body couldn't handle it. Instead, his eyes fluttered closed and his head tilted back again.

"Nancy," he grunted again. "I'm gonna... ah..."

He had been directing my body to a certain rhythm, but it became frenzied and frantic. His grip grew strong, so strong I was sure I'd have bruises on my hips the next day, but I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. I watched, completely enraptured as he used my pussy, completely enthralled by the husky noise that escaped his throat as a sudden warmth filled me.

I felt the pulses of his cock as he came; five or six times, I felt him spill inside of me. He pulled my body tighter to him each time, burying himself inside me, finally stilling and holding me in place with his cock deep inside me. The fingertips digging into my hip loosened, and after a moment's pause, his eyes opened.

For a moment, all I could do was stare back as I caught my breath.

"Nance?" he asked as the silence stretched, his breathing still labored. "You all right, doll?"

I nodded, still reveling in the sensations that were pricking through my body, little aftershocks that made me shiver. Bruce mistook it for a chill and tugged the blanket up behind me, wrapping it over my shoulders. The action was so tender and so sweet that I couldn't bring myself to tell him it had nothing to do with the temperature.

"You sure?" he asked after another moment. "Did I... are you...?"

"I am," I finally said.

"Are what?"

I shrugged. "Whatever you were asking."

He chuckled softly. "Are you okay?"

I nodded again, a slow smile spreading across my lips. "You know, if someone had told me this was what it was like, I probably would've let Tommy do it a lot earlier."

Bruce burst out laughing, his body jostling mine, his cock moving inside me as it started to soften.

"I'm damn glad no one told you, then," he said frankly. "Really damn glad I got to be the first."

"Just the first?"

His lips found mine. "You know what I'm saying, doll. I'm glad I was the one who got to do this, not that candy-ass Tommy."

I giggled and kissed him back. "Was that normal? What I... what happened to me?"

His fingers traced along my jaw before brushing my hair off my forehead.

"Yep," he said. "Any girl who says it isn't hasn't been fucked right."

A high-pitched squeal of laughter at his language left my lips. He grinned and kissed me again, and again before I tucked the blanket around us and nuzzled against his chest.

At some point, he guided me off his lap and lay down on the sofa, pulling me into his arms. The fireplace roared in the background as the wind howled outside. Firelight reflected off the baubles on the Christmas tree, and the scent of comforting smoke twisted with the fresh pine of the garlands. My breathing grew steady, the world around me comforting and cozy, with everything that mattered contained in that room. Bruce held me close, his body warm, his breath soft against my hair. I faded into a world of sleep buried in a nest of blankets tangled around his arms.

The next thing I knew, the air around me was cold and the dull glow of coals had replaced the joyful crackle of the fireplace. My eyes blinked slowly open as Bruce kissed the side of my head.

"It's early," I whimpered, burying my face into his chest.

He chuckled. "I know, but you should get dressed, doll."

"Don't want to," I said.

"You're already worried people will talk just by being here unchaperoned. What'll they think if someone catches you sleeping naked on my lap in the living room, huh?"

He had a point. It was going to be bad enough when I finally got home to my desperately worried mother, my enraged father, and my suspicious sister. I was certain I'd be in for a talking-to, and the gossip around town would be vicious. Whatever Tommy did or didn't say wouldn't matter; there was enough meat to the story to keep everyone entertained for days; I was sure of it.