It's Not the Size That Counts Ch. 11

"Okay. You said, earlier, that some positions are better for this sort of thing. Right?"

"Sarah, we don't have to do this right now."

"Yes, we do. Not only do I want to try before I lose my courage again, but, well, it would be a shame to waste this." I rubbed my leg against his still-present erection.

"I'm serious. We can wait. You've been through enough today, don't you think?"

"Steven. Stop being sensitive for one second. Are you still...I feel ridiculous saying this. I need to grow up. Are you still horny?"

"I'm sure you can feel the answer to that question."

"Yes, well, exactly. So am I, Steven. I have no idea why, given the multiple shattering orgasms tonight, but I am. I want you. I want to know if this can work. And I really want to come again. Please?"

"My God, you are gorgeous."

"I'm sure. Sweaty, red-faced, eyes bloodshot, hair looking like a rat's nest..."

"Ravishing. Stunning. Sexy." He leaned in and whispered the last one. "Fuckable."

"So...that's a yes?"

"How could I say no to a beautiful woman?"

"Alright. Back to my question. What position?"

"Well, um, almost anything except the...uh...traditional one."

"Missionary?"

"Yeah. Not that one."

"Okay. So, what then?"

Steven half sat up, messing around with the pillows behind him. Satisfied, he wrapped his arms around me, demonstrating his impressive upper body strength, and lifted me so that I was lying on top of him. I could feel his erection sandwiched between our bellies, his sparse chest hair tickling my nipples. I squeaked indignantly.

"Would you stop doing that? Show off."

He gave me an innocent look, which quickly morphed into an impish grin. He ran his hands down my back to cup my ass, giving it a squeeze before traveling even further to my thighs. He encouraged me to flex my hips and at the same time spread my legs, and I was suddenly, unexpectedly straddling him.

"Oh! You could have just said."

"Why do you always try to ruin my fun?" Steven cupped my face in both of his hands and drew me up for another mind-blowing kiss.

"I've um...never done this before. Like this, I mean."

"Ooh."

"Why did I just feel you twitch down there?"

"Why did you just say 'down there'?" I blushed. "Sarah. Say cock."

"What? Why?" My blush deepened. I knew if I could see a mirror, I'd have been virtually purple.

"You're a big girl now. Use your words. Come on."

"Why? I don't..." I paused as he shot me a dirty look. "Fine! Cock. You happy? Why did your cock just twitch? It did it again!"

"I guess it's feeling a little possessive."

"What?"

"I guess it likes the idea of being the first to do something with you."

"Ohhh."

"And it likes you talking dirty, apparently."

"Ack!"

"You're cute when you're magenta."

"Shut it!" I punctuated my exclamation with a kiss, stopping him from embarrassing me further. The truth was that the dirty talk was turning me on, too, but there was no way I was admitting to that after everything else today.

Steven's hands explored my back, hips, and the parts of my legs he could reach, his touch soft but careful not to tickle. I could feel his heartbeat pulsing in his cock against my abdomen, could feel my own moisture dripping down my leg. He broke the kiss, pushing me up to sit astride his thighs.

"One reason I like this position? My hands aren't occupied elsewhere." He reached up to my breasts, cupping and kneading them, thumbs flicking across my nipples periodically. As sensitive as they normally were, they were almost painfully so after all the earlier activity, and I gasped and thrust my chest forward, unable to tell if I wanted him to stop or keep going. My hips were involuntarily grinding against him, and he seemed to realize I wanted more; one hand slid down my belly, then further until he was able to wiggle it in between our bodies. As his fingers spread my lips, his thumb found my clit and I threw my head back, body writhing.

After mere seconds, I realized that I was on the verge of another orgasm.

"No. Wait. Not yet." I grabbed his wrists, and his hands stopped, the one between my legs reluctantly pulling away. I struggled to inch forward, feeling his erection slide down to where his hand had just been, my copious fluid coating the length of his cock. The head of it bumped my clit and I gasped, hips involuntarily thrusting against the stimulation. I started to raise myself up, to try to impale myself on him, but he shook his head and pulled me even further forward. I felt his length slip past my opening, and had a brief flashback to Luke having trouble with his aim. Using his hands to guide me, he kept my pelvis low but reversed the direction I was sliding. Firmly in the channel between my lips, I felt the head slide to where my opening was. Keeping me low had the effect of keeping his erection almost horizontal against his belly, and when he started to penetrate there was no pressure against my sensitive back wall.

He stopped me after less than an inch, and I realized that there was absolutely no pain. If anything, I felt almost desperate for more. As I broke his hold and started to slide backwards, he reached his slippery fingers down and starting rubbing my clit again, more insistently, and I almost immediately came. Fluid gushed down, liberally coating his cock, and I bucked my hips, three more inches disappearing inside me as I howled my release. Between his talented fingers on my nipple and my clit, and my suddenly pleasantly stretched pussy, I didn't relax even after the orgasm, the pleasure building again. His fingers set the pace, and I was soon sliding back and forth on his cock, mumbling incoherently, as more and more of his length vanished. Somehow he held his own hips still, though I could tell it took a lot of effort; he would let out a panted breath every time I thrust back, and a growl was rising in his throat.

He redoubled his efforts with his fingers, speeding the tempo even more, and with one last thrust I slammed my pelvis into his. He gasped my name, and I felt him erupt inside me, his fingers still mashing my clit. That was all it took for me, and I fell forward, thrashing and shuddering, as I came again. I collapsed onto his chest and I felt his arms encircle me. Every movement triggered a trembling aftershock - his fingers releasing my abused nipple, his hand sliding out from between our sweaty bodies, the added sensation of fullness as my pelvis tilted, then the slow subsiding of his erection and subsequent withdrawal. I sprawled bonelessly, sure I couldn't have moved if my life depended on it. I compared myself to a dishrag that had been wrung out, and knew the dishrag was probably less disheveled. I couldn't have felt more content.

"Sarah?"

I grunted in a most unladylike fashion.

"You okay, honey?"

"You have to ask? You remove my spine through my...through my cunt! Ha, I said it - and you have to ask me if I'm okay?"

"That's a yes?"

"That's a Hell, yes."

"Pain?"

"What?"

"Did you have any pain?"

"Not that I noticed."

"There's a chance you wouldn't have noticed?"

"There's a chance a train could have crashed in the back yard and I wouldn't have noticed."

"Point taken."

"Steven?"

"Yes, beautiful?"

"I love you."

"Does this mean you're not going to dump me?"

"It does."

"Good. I was starting to think I was going to have to keep you chained

in the basement until you relented."

"You do want to tie me up!" I grinned impishly, and he laughed.

"I love you too, you know." Steven interrupted any possible response by kissing me passionately, then manhandling me onto my side with him spooned behind me. Safely tucked in his arms, I fell asleep.

******

I basically never went home again, except to pick up clothes and personal items. After a couple of months of paying rent on a place I never spent any time, I finally sublet it out to a colleague and moved in officially. His crazy dog became our crazy dog, though I still called him Lassie.

Steven still had the odd nightmare, but he never hit me, and it usually ended in an intense lovemaking session, just like the first time almost did. The nightmares seemed less frequent, and less intense, when we were together. Deciding to hire a P.I. to investigate her disappearance might have helped. I guess we will see.

We never truly had problems with pain during sex, although there were some things we just didn't do very often, like missionary position. It seemed that just being with someone who understood was enough to solve the problem. He always made sure I was good and ready, and he was so damn sexy it wasn't difficult.

J was ecstatic, although jealous as hell after he met Steven. The two hit it off right away, and often drove me crazy in tandem with ridiculous accents and stupid puns. If I'd had any lingering doubts about Steven, they would have disappeared the first time we all watched a Monty Python movie together and all three of us were quoting the lines.

Steven was true to his word and showed no signs of ever wanting to tie me up; he did, however, eventually convince me to tie the knot. The wedding was on the beach, in a tropical paradise. My parents were there, and a very small gathering of close friends. My parents even admitted that Steven was much better for me than Doug ever was, much to my amazement. All of my family loved him, and adopted him as their own.

We bought a new house together, with room enough for kids. And a nanny.

And I plan to live happily ever after.