The First Ninety Days Ch. 02

She started to protest that she was too tired—and that, furthermore, there was no way of making this work!—but even as she opened her mouth, she started seeing how it could be done. She would need to sling one leg over him and basically sit on top of him... The idea piqued her curiosity—and opened a deep hunger inside her.

Shrugging out of the blankets, she knelt above him on the bed, straddling him, feeling him brush her inner thighs as she did. After that it was hard to look down and see what was going on—she had breasts in the way—so she asked him to put himself in the right place, and a moment later she felt the touch of his cock at her entrance, and then more as he rubbed himself up and down her sex.Cock? Well... It's strange, but in the heat of the moment, it sure beats 'penis.'

She began to sink down on him, slowly, feeling him push up inside her. It was a strange feeling, to have something there where nothing normally was, but not an uncomfortable one. She felt... Full. Full in a way she had never felt before; full in a way she had never known shecould feel.

When at last her buttocks touched the top of his legs, when at last he was as fully inside her as he could be, she could have sworn that he was deeper inside her than last time, and she could feel the revving heat inside her, that perilous climb to orgasm that had been so good. He was right, there was no pressure on her clitoris—but as she leaned forward to look down at him, it pressed against his skin, and she trembled.

His hands reached up to cup her breasts, and then to her shoulders, to pull her down to him; inside herself, she felt him withdraw a little. "I've always wanted to do this," he whispered.

It was pretty nice to her, too. "Well, I'm glad you got your wish," she whispered, and then kissed him deeply as she lay supine on him, his cock (penis) deep within and his arms around her.

"So, what do I do," she asked.

"You just... You move your hips up and down," he said. "Make me go in and out of you."

"And then you..." Tasting the word for the first time. "Come?"

"Eventually, yeah— Oh shit, we forgot to put on the condom!"

Caitlyn made a face. "Why did we bother with all that if we're gonna forget to—"

"There's still time, go ahead—"

She lifted off of him while he dug in the nightstand. Coming out with a foil square, he tore open the top, revealing a dome of translucent latex with a ring around the outside. When he placed the dome on the tip of his penis, the ring turned out to be the rest of the condom, unrolling now like Venetian blinds. In a trice he was clad and ready for action. She made a note to herself to learn how he did it.

It felt different this time: drier, somehow, and his entrance less smooth. She supposed that might be the condom—after all, they weren't actually made of rubber but they were called that, and what would it be like to stick something rubber inside her? He also felt more slick, less bumpy—and not in a good way. She instantly understood just what a smart instinctive choice she had made, for their pleasure if not for their future, by letting him penetrate her uncovered that first time.

He must have sensed it too, for his finger found her clitoris again, and she shuddered and tremored with him still inside of her. It felt wildly, marvelously good. Later she would realize that her pussy had contracted instinctively at his touch, and long eventual experience would teach her that squeezing down with her pussy muscles felt a lot better when there was something—say, his cock—inside it.

I guess pussy beats 'vagina' too. It's too... Scientific.

"Whenever you're ready," he said.

She didn't think she would have an orgasm this time, and she didn't. Which was not to say that it didn't feel good, because it did; it just wasn't anything on the level of him using his mouth on her crotch. Now that he had mentioned it, she could feel bursts of pleasure every time that sensitive bud brushed against his penis or his body, and soon she learned to maneuver herself so that it happened on every stroke. She remained prone, kissing him, for a time, but then sat upright above him, for the pleasure of the added depth. She felt him moving below, withdrawing out of her when she moved up and meeting her back on her downstroke. And she was able to watch his face—his mouth open, eyes closed, eyebrows drawn, the quickness of his breath, the expression on his face like he was reaching for something. She had never seen it before, but she thought she rather liked it.

When he came—had his orgasm—it was rather different, because of the latex condom. She felt an almost imperceptible swell within her, and then an increased warmth up near the top of the slick not-quite-penis within her. His face told her more, really: the way his mouth opened, his gasping, the soft moan he made. And then he fell quiescent beneath her, and she knew he was done.

She leaned down, accepting his arms around her. "I love you."

"And I love you."

She thought she could have fallen asleep in his arms, just like this, without him even withdrawing—she had a hunch he could too—but he groaned and said, "I need to take off the condom." And after that, there wasn't much point. She watched him squeeze out the air and tie a knot in the end, and then stuff it back in the wrapper. Though quite a bit longer than when it had come out, it was fairly flat and scrunched in pretty well. Then, when he was done, he coaxed her back into her position over him, draped down on him like a blanket. A moment later she felt the comforters around her shoulders. It was still sinfully good.

"It's backwards," she said after a moment. Normally he was the one cradling her; now it was the other way around.

"I know," he said. "But variety is the spice of life, right? And besides, I like it."

"You do?" She hadn't known that about him.

"Just, you always needed to be held more than I did."

That was true as far as it went, she supposed, but it still surprised her. He had always seemed so self-sufficient. She had come to him with her emptiness and her loss and he had always had the answers. The thought thathe might need pampering, just as much as she did...

Well. I've always wanted to give something back to him, haven't I? "Any time," she said. "Any time you want me, my love."

His arms slid around her, holding her to him tightly. "Yay."