Page 13 of Fifty First Times (Sharing You 0.40)
Slowly, he rises from the floor and joins us together again, my throbbing middle pressing into his. He drags my arms around his neck and we kiss and grind together until I’m ready to explode. Finally, Jack’s hand slides down my stomach and pauses at the top of my panties. He takes one of my hands from around his neck and places it beside his other, lingering outside my only remaining piece of clothing.
“Show me what you do,” he whispers, “When you touch yourself.”
The embarrassment is still absent but I can’t help asking, “Why?” Isn’t he here to do this for me?
“I want you to like it,” he says. “You have to tell me what you like.”
My fingers brush his and eventually I grip onto them. “I do?”
He smiles. “You don’t have to, but I want to know what you like.”
I’m not sure I can do that in front of him so I say, “Why don’t you show me first? I should probably know what you like, right?”
His smile turns to more of a smirk but he says, “Okay.” And before I can register what I’ve just ignited, Jack is releasing me, stepping back, unbuckling his pants, and standing in front of me wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs. He takes my hand again, pulls me closer, and then slides my fingers inside his underwear. I had some idea of what might be in there, I’ve seen pictures and I understood about a man’s penis getting hard before sex and during sex. But feeling it . . . it’s something entirely different. I know with so much certainty that I couldn’t do this with anyone but Jack. I couldn’t do this with a stranger or even a friend.
His hand covers mine as I wrap it around him. My other hand tugs at his underwear until it falls down by his ankles. I want to see what I’m doing. He moves us up and down him, stroking to a rhythm matching our dance tonight. I touch his lower back and bring us even closer so we can continue swaying.
Jack’s fingers loosen, his forehead drops to my shoulder, and his breathing becomes erratic. Confidence floods through me—I must be doing something right—but just as quickly, he removes my hand and lifts his head to kiss me.
“Can I touch you now?” he whispers against my lips.
Shaking a bit, I take his hand in mine and slide it under my panties, guiding him. Jack squeezes my trembling hand. “I just want to see all of you, touch all of you. I don’t care what happens after that, okay? No pressure.”
I take a deep breath and nod before removing my own panties so he can really see all of me. I guide his hand again, reaching the same spot. I drop my hand to my side, leaving him alone down there. The feeling is so intense I’m embarrassed to open my mouth for fear of strange sounds escaping. His index finger drifts even farther south; carefully, he slides it inside me.
Now I’m the one breathing erratically.
“Likes this?” he asks, almost playfully as my head falls against his shoulder.
I kiss his neck several times before saying, “You’re better than me.”
He laughs, hugs me tight with the arm wrapped around my waist. “I love you so much, Audrey. You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
I tug his hand out from between my legs and lay it on my hip. “You’re perfect, too, Jack. But I don’t think I can . . . you know . . . let things happen with you like they do when I’m alone.”
He pulls me against him, his hard penis pressing into me, his hands slide down over my butt, holding my cheeks firmly. “Why not?”
“It’s embarrassing and I’m too distracted to concentrate and I have to concentrate or else—”
He cuts off my nervous run on sentences with a kiss and then says, “I don’t think it’ll happen when I’m inside you. Not your first time. It might hurt too much.”
I can tell by the way his forehead wrinkles that he hates this fact. He doesn’t want me to hurt. “It’s okay. I don’t have expectations.”
Jack shakes his head. “It’s not okay with me.”
It takes a second for me to understand what he’s trying to say, but eventually I do and then I take his hand and place it between my legs again. I force out all other thoughts besides Jack’s hands and the pleasure they’re making me feel.
Jack holds me tight, his thumb circling over the throbbing spot and his index finger moving in and out like the slide on a trombone. My legs go weak and I grab hold of the first thing my hands can reach—Jack’s butt—which is firm and so utterly graspable. “I won’t let you fall,” he whispers.
I bury my face in his neck, muffling my heavy breathing as everything builds inside me, the tingling spreading from my midsection outward. I bite down hard on my lower lip but a moan still escapes the second I tip over the edge, a sensation rushing through my body, a cry escaping my lips. Jack continues the circling for a few more seconds until my grip on him slackens, my limbs turning to Jell-O. He holds me close then lifts me off the ground, wrapping my legs around his waist.
Eventually, Jack lays me across his bed then flops down beside me, his fingertips drawing slow circles over my stomach and thighs. “We can stop right here if you want? Or I can show you how my parts work.” He raises an eyebrow and I laugh really hard.
I wait for my laughter to die down and then reach over to take hold of his face, gliding my fingers over his smooth cheeks. “I want you to make love to me. And I’m the bride so you have to do whatever I want, right?”
He rolls his eyes. “Bride or princess?”
“Both.” I tug on his face until his mouth meets mine. I give him a light kiss, then reach one hand below his waist again, wrapping my fingers around him. “Come on, honey, show me how this is supposed to fit inside me.”
