Teach Me Dirty(65)

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.”