Chapter 12

He didn’t argue. All he said was, “Are you sure?”

Her response was, “I’m sure, Bob. I love you. I’ve never loved a man before you. I won’t lie and say I’m not nervous, but everything we’ve had together so far has been so bright and beautiful, I’m sure I want to take the next step.”

It was difficult – not because she was nervous, but because neither of them had any business trying to engage in strenuous physical activity, yet. Just getting out of the tub and getting dried off took half an hour.

Then, once in bed, it became obvious that the missionary position was out. Bob couldn’t support his weight on his left arm. He lay beside her on his good shoulder, and thought about how, when she had been on top of him, she had “bumped” him. That might work again, but it all depended on how tough her hymen was. He knew it was there, because he’d felt it with his fingertip. But he hadn’t “tested” it.

“I have an idea,” he said.

“Okay.

“I want to just kiss you for a while and masturbate you, to get you ready for more.”

“I’m ready for more now,” she said.

“In your head you are ready,” he said. “But this isn’t an exercise in your head. I want you to be so excited that you stop thinking about it, and just feel things.”

He didn’t tell her he planned on breaking her hymen with his finger. That would hurt, but not as badly as if it was something bigger doing the breaking. And using his finger would be quick. He’d be inside her before she realized what was happening.

The problem was that to do that, he’d have to lie on his bad shoulder. He hadn’t tried doing that, yet.

When he tried to ease over onto his left side, that option also fell off the table.

He rolled back to a supine position.

“I can’t do what I had in mind. It hurts too much.”

“I shouldn’t be so impatient,” she said.

“Don’t give up yet,” he said. “I’m full of ideas.”

“Such as?”

“Help me up,” he said.

She pulled his good arm and he sat up. He took her back to the entertaining area of the suite, where there was a straight-backed cushioned chair. He sat in it and patted his thighs.

“Sit sideways on my lap,” he said.

She did and he immediately fondled a breast with his right hand.

“You’re going to have to hold yourself up,” he said.

“That won’t be hard.”

“You don’t know what’s going to happen to you. Things might get a little crazy.”

“Why?”

“Kiss me,” he said.

She did and her arms went around his neck. In this position she could drape her right arm around the back of his neck and rest it on his shoulder. Her left hand was then free to grip his right shoulder.

At first, all he did was kiss her and play with her breasts. They were at the perfect height to be sucked if she turned at the waist a little to her right, and he did that too, until her sighs and lips told him she was getting excited. Only then did he slide his hand between her legs.

His fingers found slippery labia. She was already lubricated. That was good because he wanted as little friction as possible when he pushed his middle finger through her hymen.

He did that when she had an orgasm. He was sucking a nipple and rubbing her fast and hard when he heard the sounds in her throat that he now recognized as “Lacey having an orgasm,” and her face went upwards, as if she were looking at the ceiling. When he judged she was well into that, he probed, found the obstruction, and rammed his finger through it.

Her groan of completion took on an alternate sound as her voice rose to a surprised yip. But already he had crooked his finger inside her and was scratching the top of her sheath, hoping she had a sensitive G spot. At the same time he was using the pad at the bottom of his finger to crush her clit and put more pressure on it than he’d been able to do, staying only on the surface.

Her whole body jerked and her head came down. Her mouth was open and there were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling. Or, perhaps it was a grimace. He fingerfucked her with short, rapid strokes, pounding her clit and their eyes met. He’d never done this before, and doubts assailed him in terms of how long to keep going on, and what to do with his finger, inside her. She wasn’t moving her hips, though her legs were still spread wide. Finally, he stopped, leaving his finger inside her.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m wonderful,” she said. A tear spilled down her cheek and she reached to wipe it away.

“I made you cry,” he said, sadly.

“It’s okay,” she said. “There was some pain, but there were so many other sensations I was able to leave that behind. It’s very different than I imagined.”

“How did you imagine it?”

“I thought it would be excruciating pain,” she said. “But it was just a little sting. Then I could feel you touching me inside, moving your finger around. It was amazing.”

He wiggled the tip of his finger once.

“Yes,” she said. “Like that.”

“You still want something bigger in there?” he asked.

She blinked twice and wiped her eyes with her hand. When she took it away, her whole visage had changed. She looked at him with a smoky gaze.

“Oh, yes. But can you do that?”

“I have another idea,” he said.

Lacey crawled to straddle his closed legs with her knees. Her good arm supported her upper torso, like a three-legged dog. Her right hand was on the bedspread, but she didn’t put much pressure on it.

He had reminded her of “bumping”, and she was excited to try that. She had loved lying on top of him and moving around.

She settled into place with her lips directly over Bob’s and kissed him four or five times, wiggling to move downwards. She had sucked him to diamond hardness and could feel his erection between them. She was finally able to roll slightly to the left and use her bad hand to position the tip of his cock in her nest. She rolled back and lay her head on his good shoulder.

Then she started rocking, feeling the pillows of her breasts become a moveable cushion.

It was hit and miss at first, in the most literal sense of the word. She’d move around, not feeling what she thought was right. Then, when she did feel him press into her opening, she was already moving and lost the position. It took her probably two minutes to slow down until, when she felt it, she could stop.

Then she had to figure out how to scoot down to apply more pressure.

“This is harder than I thought it would be,” she panted.

“You’re doing fine,” he said. “I can feel it. You’re almost there.”

He could, indeed, feel her hot core enveloping the tip of his cock. Had he been trying not to fuck her, it would have been maddening.

“It feels good,” she whispered, inching downward.

Then, suddenly, with one spastic lunge, the head popped inside her. She froze and then, as her body tried to rock back upwards again, she gripped the bedspread with her left hand and pushed hard, moving her knees farther apart. Bob’s right arm went around her and his hand landed in the small of her back, in the dip made by the beginning swells of her ass cheeks. He bent his knees, scooting his heels up a few inches and then jerked his hips upwards. It was instinct, really. His body knew it was close and simply tried that little jerk to get closer.

As smooth as silk, his aching boner slid into her four inches. She was very tight, but at the same time it seemed like her vagina tried to suck him deeper.

“Ohhhhhhhh,” she groaned.

Her own body did the same thing his had, trying to get just that inch or two further, and then she settled, fully impaled, no longer moving.

“I think you’re in me,” she whispered, panting hard.

“Oh, Baby, am I ever,” he said, as his hips began a staccato thrusting motion all by themselves. Because he was barely at maximum penetration, his movements only caused his prick to slide in and out an inch or two, but she was so tight that the friction was delightful.

To both of them.

“Ohhh Bob, she moaned.

“Am I hurting you?” he panted.

“No. No.” Her left hand was trying to get another purchase, to give her some way to push, instead of just squirming on top of him. “It feels ... I don’t know. Just don’t stop.”

“Sit up,” he said.

“What?” In her mind, the concept of sitting up meant pulling that beautiful thing out of her so she could scoot back and perch on his thighs. “No!”

“Just bring your knees up and push with your left hand. I’ll push with my right.”

“I don’t want to take it out!” she cried.

“Don’t take it out. Just sit up on it,” he urged.

What changed everything was when she did push with her good arm, trying to get high enough above him to talk to him about all this. As she got higher, the angle of her body changed and he went in the last inch. Her clit mashed against his pubic bone, not hard, but just enough to send electric happy signals to her brain. In a flash, she got it.

“Help me!” she gasped, trying to bring her right arm into play. There was pain and she winced, but then his shooting hand landed between her breasts and pushed as if she only weighed a few pounds.

Suddenly she was able to bring her knees up and sink down until she was resting on her calves.

And his penis, of course, which was now as deep as it could get.

She wobbled. It felt so good she was afraid she might pass out. Her left hand reached and landed on his chest as she leaned forward. His hand, between her breasts, felt like a soft tree trunk she could lean against while she gathered her strength.

“Better?” he asked.

“Oh Bob,” she moaned. “I don’t think I can take this.”

“Then get off, silly,” he said.

“No! Never! I love it! I’m just afraid I may faint.”

“You’re not going to faint,” he said, smiling. “Use your stomach and hip muscles. Wiggle forward and backward.”

“Like this?” she asked, tensing her abs and trying to move the part of her that was joined with part of him.

To her astonishment, she was able to move, not much, but an inch or two. Not only that, but when she did that, the thick thing inside her seemed to massage her insides in places she hadn’t even been aware her body had. It was incredible.

Within twenty seconds she had learned the basic thrusting movement that takes some dancers half an hour to learn. Of course those dancers don’t have a penis in them. Perhaps that made all the difference. But instinct guided her. And then she couldn’t stop jerking her hips. It felt so good that stopping just didn’t seem like a viable option. She went so long, in fact, that soon her muscles were complaining that this marathon was ill advised. Eventually, she had to stop, just to rest.

“Wow!” she gasped, breathing hard.

“Now you know why people like to do this so much,” said Bob, who had enjoyed possibly the best time he’d ever had with a woman. Just watching her discover this new kind of joy and embrace it so eagerly was enough. He didn’t care if he came or not. In fact, his initial desire, once he was fully seated in her, was to try to remain hard as long as possible so she could play as long as she wanted to.