Dear Aaron(131)

And then, one hand disappeared for all of a moment and the next thing I knew, there was pressure over my slit, right at the top, dragging down the length of it. Aaron watched me with those brown, brown eyes as he moved what had to be the pad of his thumb up and down the seam of my lips over my underwear, pausing right at the top with a gentle circle that had me sucking in a breath.

He smiled.

And he did it again.

And again, and again…

“More,” I pleaded, more than likely sounding crazy.

And he gave me more, his touch gentle, light, circling and drawing a line straight down the center of me before going back up again for seconds, thirds, fourths, fifths, tenths and twentieths, until I could feel how wet my underwear was, I could feel how achy the middle part of my body had gotten. There was no way Aaron could have missed it, especially when his other hand slipped inside the leg of my shorts and tugged my underwear to the side a moment before the hand that had been driving me crazy, did the same thing again except this time over bare skin.

Then he slipped a finger inside of me and I lost it. In and out, one finger and then eventually two fingers, crooking and then sliding, forcing me to drop down to hold myself up on my hands and knees over him. His mouth found one of my nipples and gave it a nip that had me shuddering. It was the first time anyone other than me or my vibrator had been anywhere near the center of my body. Not even the other idiot, the original idiot, had gone there.

I only knew I was panting because I could hear myself as I moved my hips around his fingers for more. And just as I started to tighten, to feel an orgasm starting right at the juncture of my thighs, he stopped.

He freaking stopped.

“Aaron, please,” I started to cry out, getting caught off guard when he sat up, his hands frantic on my hips as he shoved my shorts and underwear down my thighs, helping me maneuver them off in this tangle that only wasn’t awkward because we were both so desperate. So damn desperate.

In the blink of an eye, he was on his back again and I was straddling his hips that time. Aaron watched me as he licked his palm and wrapped it around the broad, hard flesh that was lined up right along my lips. His fingers brushed the sensitive skin on the crease as he rubbed his palm up and down his length twice before pressing himself to where I was warm and wet and so needy it might have been pathetic if I’d cared. The smooth cap of his head brushed against my clit as he slicked his palm up and down, licking it once more before doing the motion all over again.

Then he lined himself up with where I’d played enough in the past to know was my entrance, and with flexing hips and his hands on my waist, he pushed upward at the same time I sat on the shaft standing there upright waiting for me. One inch at a time, I held my breath as he stretched me and kept on stretching me, going where only one other person had gone before, but somehow, I couldn’t remember anything about that one and only time.

And then, with a slight sting that was nothing to write home about, and just enough discomfort to make me not want to move for a little while, my bottom hit his thighs and we both gasped. Neither one of us moved, breathed, did anything but just… exist.

“You okay?” he asked roughly after a moment, sounding almost entirely like a different person.

I nodded, flexing my inner muscles like that would help them get used to the new friend they’d made who wasn’t anywhere near being small or skinny. And Aaron groaned, ragged, long, his abs heaving as he blinked like he was in pain. “Are you okay?” I asked him with a hiss of something that wasn’t pain when he seemed to flex the big muscle buried inside of me in response.

Aaron smiled, swallowing, gulping, his breathing off.

I prodded at his shoulder, earning a moan from deep in his throat as he moved inside me. “Hey, if you croak on me right now, I’ll never recover.”

A pained smile grew across his mouth, and he pretty much groaned, “I’m not okay. I’m never going to be okay.”

I laughed and that only made him moan more.

Aaron tipped his head back, arching his upper body. “Ruby,” he whispered, “move, just move a little, and I’ll tell you anything you ever wanted to know. I’ll do whatever you want me to do, I swear to God… I might die if you don’t,” he wheezed out.

Well.

When he put it like that…

I swallowed the knot in my throat as I lifted my hips just an inch and dropped back down. Okay, all right. Then I did it again, up and down, taking a little more each time, it feeling so much better, so much better after every movement. I had no idea if I was doing it right, but I tried to do what I’d seen in movies before. It wasn’t like it was rocket science. Moving my hands to his chest, I started taking it all, every inch of his length until it felt like he’d almost come out, that big cap the only thing still inside of me, and I dropped back down with a hiss.

It was Aaron’s hands on my waist, kneading, that made me start grinding against the base of him when I’d sit back deeply enough that I was on his lap. And then, then, it was amazing. Beyond amazing. With each grind of my clit against his pubic bone, the need to orgasm became more pronounced. Achier. And from the way Aaron was breathing, he was close too.

I froze, hovering over him, but he pushed me back down and made me circle my hips as I was impaled on him, over and over again, and I came. I came with a cry, with a swallow, with a groan that had me falling forward, my chest against his, the side of my face doing the same.