Unhealthily Obsessed With Led Zeppelin

“Hi Jimmy,” you offered, suddenly shy as you felt the blood rush to your cheeks. 

Jimmy Page, as you’d learned, was a local musician who worked as a session guitarist by day. He was always one to offer polite conversation and had a way of both making you feel at ease and hot under the collar. You saw him every payday when he came in to cash his check from Decca, but lately you’d been seeing more of him. He seemed to pop into the bank a couple times a week nowadays, always waiting patiently in your line, and greeting you with that breathtaking smile. Your admiration for him had steadily turned into a full-blown crush over the past few months. The last time he was in you’d needed to lock yourself in the vault for five minutes to collect yourself. You told your boss you were putting away the extra safety deposit box keys, but you were pretty sure she knew what was up. Your face was always ten shades of red by the time Jimmy left. It wasn’t hard for anyone to put together. 

“Long day?” he asked, smiling sympathetically as he handed over his check. He made good money for only being in his early 20’s. Session work must pay well. 

“Very,” you answered. “Seeing my favorite customer always makes the day better, though,” you smiled back. 

He flashed that killer smile and almost caused your legs to give out from under you. 

“You’re sweet. And you’re my favorite bank teller, if it’s all the same.” 

“You don’t know any of the other tellers,” you laughed, taking the money from your drawer. 

He raised his eyebrows and smiled impishly. “Touché.” 

You made small talk as you entered the withdrawal from your drawer onto your ledger and counted the money back to him, noting to yourself as you mindlessly counted that you would need 5’s soon. Most customers would present their own ledgers for you to update after a transaction, but Jimmy never did. He always did that himself. He was very meticulous with keeping track of his money. 

You reached below the counter and grabbed a vault ticket to request a refill on your drawer as he updated his book. While you were writing out your ticket, he cleared his throat. 

“Y/N, I was wondering,” he began as his own face started to redden, “if you had plans for dinner tonight?” 

“Oh!” You ceased writing and looked up at him. “No, I don’t…my roommate and I usually just eat in front of the telly.” Telly. You’d picked up on a few British-isms despite only being in the country on a work visa. You’d been born in America twenty years earlier, but had come to England on a work-study program last year. You were free to take your classes at any British university as long as you worked and contributed to the economy while doing so. You’d loved England for as long as you could remember, so when the opportunity came up sophomore year of college, you jumped at it. 

He smiled hesitantly. “Well, I was going to check out that new Italian  place down the road, would you like to join me?” 

For all the daydreaming you’d done of Jimmy, you couldn’t believe he was actually asking you out. 

“You mean…like a date?” you asked. 

“Ummm,” he began. He scratched his head, smiling bashfully. “Yeah…yeah, like a date.” 

He was so shy, it was adorable. You answered quickly to put him out of his misery. 

“I’d love that, Jimmy,” you answered honestly. 

His eyes widened happily. “Great!” He took a deposit ticket from your counter and slid it towards you. “Write down your address and I’ll pick you up. Does 7 work?” 

“That’s just fine,” you said, barely controlling the excitement in your voice as you wrote your address, and phone number for good measure, before sliding it back across the counter. 

He glanced at your writing, probably making a mental note of where you lived, before again meeting your eyes. “Alright. It’s a date,” he grinned. He stuffed his money into his wallet and pocketed his ledger, making to turn around. 

“I’ll see you at 7 then, Y/N. Don’t be late,” he added with a cheeky smile.  

“Jimmy, wait!” you called to him. 

He reeled around, eyes questioning. 

“Don’t forget your sweet,” you said shyly, offering him your candy bowl. 

He fished out a lollipop from the bowl, unwrapped it, and stuck it into his mouth. “Ta,” he said, winking. 

*********************************

7pm couldn’t come soon enough. You’d worked until five and had nearly sprinted the four blocks back to your apartment, making it home by 5:10. You had no idea what you were going to wear. What does one wear on a spur-of-the-moment first date with their crush? What restaurant were you going to, again? Right. Florencia’s, the new Italian place about six blocks down. You’d wanted to try it and had even been planning a trip with Lisa, your roommate. She was studying to be a teacher and was also in the work-study program, biding her time during the day as a receptionist at one of the local recording studios. She was well aware of your thing for Jimmy. Being front of house at the studio meant that she sometimes saw him at work, coming and going from his sessions. Not all the time, but once or twice a week or so. Twice, if you were lucky. Each sighting resulted in the two of you sitting on the couch, usually after dinner, with her relaying every last detail to you, from what he was wearing, to his mood, to how he had his hair styled that day, to any other girls he interacted with at the studio. You didn’t care to hear too much about that last bit. Musicians always got around, you knew, and you were sure he was probably no different. 

Lisa sometimes worked odd hours, often overnight, depending on when the studio was in use. Before you left this morning she’d let you know she wouldn’t be home until the next afternoon. Apparently a higher profile singer was coming in late that evening to record and her boss wanted all hands on deck. The bonafide stars often recorded well into the next morning, so Lisa usually just toughed it out and slept it off the next day. 

Normally you’d have her to guide you through this impending crisis, but she wouldn’t be home until well after your date had concluded.  Chewing your nails nervously, you picked up the phone. 

“Olympic Studios, this is Lisa, how may I direct your call?” the voice answered robotically. 

“It’s me!” 

“Oh. What’s up?” she asked casually. 

“Jimmy asked me out tonight!!!” you nearly shrieked into the phone. 

“WHAT!!!” You heard shushing noises in the background. “What?!” Lisa said much quieter. 

“Yes. Jimmy asked me out. It’s true. What do I do?!” you pleaded. 

“You go!” she hissed, dumbfounded. 

“Obviously I’m going! ….I don’t know what to wear! How should I do my hair? Up or down? Do I want a lot of makeup or a natural look? I don’t want him to think I’m trying too hard…..I don’t want him to think I don’t care, either though—” 

“Y/N!” 

“Huh!?” you gasped, her stern use your name breaking you out of your panic. 

“You’re spiraling. Sit down.” 

You sat on the arm of the couch. 

“Breathe.” 

You took a deep breath, twirling the phone cord around your finger. 

“Now. Where are you going?” 

“Florencia’s! Yknow, the new place? It’s fancy but not super fancy and I don’t know if—“

“—HERE…is what you’re going to do,” she said calmly, yet resolutely. 

“Ok,” you responded meekly. 

“You’re going to wear your new mini you bought last weekend, with the red blouse from my closet. And your black boots. Oh, and the fishnets. Hair down, but with volume. Natural makeup, but with a cat eye. The best of both worlds.” 

A cat eye, of course! 

“And under?” you offered dazedly, the very thought of him seeing anything “under” driving you mad before it had even started. 

“Under? Why are you thinking about under? Are you planning to sleep with him?” Lisa asked parentally. 

“Well, n-no, but…yknow…” 

You could practically hear Lisa’s eyes rolling back in her head. “You are.” 

“I’m not!” you argued, though weakly. “I just…I just think I should be prepared iiiiif…I mean. Things happen, Leese!” 

“They do indeed,” she sighed. Having spent the better part of the last year around musicians, Lisa knew what they got up to when they thought no one was looking, and she wasn’t entirely keen on her best friend getting taken advantage of by one of them, no matter how sweet he seemed. “Just be careful,” she finished. 

“I will! He’s very polite,” you assured. 

“I know he is. They ALL are, until the lights go out,” she added sarcastically. 

“I’ve gotta go…thank you, thank you, thank you! I owe you a pizza!” 

“Ha…bye!” 

****************************

You’d gotten ready according to Lisa’s instructions and, you had to admit, you looked damned good. The mini and boots conveyed a flirtatiousness, the fishnets were sexy, while the blouse kept it respectable. Your hair and makeup were minimalist, but the cat eye made it modern. And underneath, your best matching set. It was the best you could do on such short notice, but you felt confident and feminine. It was 6:55 and you expected Jimmy would be ringing the doorbell at any moment.  

You’d just bent down to rub a small scuff out of your boot when you heard the buzzer. Flying to the door, you opened it, and he was magnificent. 

His jet black hair, which he’d been growing out, was long enough to almost cover one eye, the short curls hanging over his boyish face. He wore gray trousers which were perfectly fitted, to your delight, along with a blue button-down shirt with a black tie, and an interesting old timey war coat, from what you could make out. He held in his hands a box of chocolates. 

“Y/N, you look lovely,” he said, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek. He handed you the box. “These are for you.” 

“Oh, thank you, that’s so sweet. I love chocolates, you know. Come in, let me just get my purse?” 

You sat the chocolates on the kitchen counter and grabbed your purse off the barstool, looking one more time to make sure you had everything. Gum, check. Lip gloss, check. Emergency tampon, check. Your heart sped up as you caught a glimpse of the blue foil wrapper you’d tucked away in the inside pocket, just in case. 

You turned back towards Jimmy, who quickly averted his eyes from his admiration of your mini skirt. You smiled to yourself. “Ready!” 

Walking out the door, Jimmy announced. “It’s only a few blocks down, and it’s such a nice day, I thought we’d just walk it?” 

“That’s fine,” you assured him. The warmth of the July sun still heated the evening to a very temperate level, making a walk a pleasant proposition. 

You made your way the few blocks to Florencia’s, making polite small talk all the while. Jimmy was very shy in his mannerisms, but a perfect gentleman, and he made you feel at ease. You snuck glances at the way his hair flopped into his face with each step. It was quite possibly the cutest thing you’d ever seen. 

When you entered the restaurant, Jimmy opened the door for you and escorted you to your table, protectively placing his hand on your lower back, sending shockwaves up your spine at the contact. He pulled out your chair for you before taking off his jacket, placing it on the back of the opposite chair and taking a seat himself. 

“Your jacket, what is that? It looks very old?” you inquired, genuinely curious. 

“Oh, I found it in a charity shop, it’s from the Revolutionary War. It’s cool, yeah?” he asked, handing you a menu. 

“Yeah, it’s neat! You have so many buttons, do you collect them or something?” 

“Not really, I just pick up any interesting ones I come across. It’s a good conversation starter,” he said, his green eyes twinkling.

“Clearly,” you giggled. 

Over menus, you decided to split a bottle of wine. Jimmy motioned for the waiter and asked him to bring a nice red.  

“You know, back home I wouldn’t be allowed to drink for another six months,” you told him. 

“That’s right, it’s 21 over there, isn’t it? So that makes you twenty, then.” 

“Mmhmm. I’ll be going into my third year of college in a couple months.” 

“How does an American college student find themselves living and working in England, anyway?” he asked, browsing his menu. 

You told him about the work-study program, that you wanted to be a writer, and you were planning to stay in England through graduation, if you could swing it. 

“Don’t you miss home? You friends, family? A boyfriend?” he asked, clearly fishing for information. 

You shook your head. “I don’t have a boyfriend. And yes, I do miss my friends and my parents, but it helps that my best friend is actually over here with me. She’s my roommate. You know her—Lisa, she works at Olympic?” 

His ears perked up. “Lisa at Olympic?! Yeah, I know her! She’s your best mate?” 

“Since childhood,” you nodded. 

“Wow, what a small world…why didn’t you ever tell me you two knew each other?” 

“It never came up, I guess,” you answered with a shrug. 

Jimmy nodded. “Yeah, ok….yeah, I like Lisa, she’s a good one, that. You know, my mate Jeff has been trying to pull her for the last year?” 

“Is he a musician, too?” you asked. 

“Yeah, he plays in The Yardbirds,” he said offhandedly. 

“Wait, what!? ….Jeff Beck?? From The Yardbirds?!” Had you been taking a drink when he said that, it may have ended up in his face. 

“Yeah,” he confirmed nonchalantly, glancing up. 

“Jeff Beck from The Yardbirds is your friend AND he wants to date MY Lisa??” 

“Yes. And yes,” he nodded, laughing. 

“How do you know Jeff Beck?” you asked, now beside yourself with curiosity. You couldn’t wait to tell Lisa when she got home. 

“We’ve been best mates since we were about twelve,” he offered. “I’ve known the rest of the band for years. I’m the one who recommended Jeff to them when Eric left.” 

“Wow! So, why are you not a rockstar then?” you inquired, shaking your head. 

He shrugged his shoulders and grinned. “They’ve actually been wanting me to join them for a while.” 

“Oh…you don’t want to?”

He shook his head. “Mmm well they can’t really have six members, it’s kind of a whole thing, ‘Five Live Yardbirds,’” he gestured. 

You nodded. “Well, I’m sure you’re good enough to be in the band if you wanted. I’ve heard some of your work, you know.” 

“Yeah?” He smiled brightly. “What have you heard?” 

“‘Downtown’ came on the radio the other day in the bank and my boss told me you played on it.”

“Guilty,” he tutted.  

“What else have you played on? That I would know?” you asked animatedly. 

“Mmmm….I did the rhythm guitar for ‘Goldfinger.’”

Your eyes lit up. “You’re kidding!” You started laughing. “I love that song! Ask anyone who knows me, they’ll tell you I love that song, I saw the movie in the theater three times! And here I knew the guitarist the whole time.” 

Your waiter arrived and took your orders. Coincidentally but completely unplanned, you both ordered the mushroom ravioli. The waiter returned shortly with a bottle of ‘58 red. 

“God save the Queen,” Jimmy toasted, raising his glass to the lower drinking age in England. 

“To her Majesty,” you echoed, as you clinked your glass with his. 

Your meals arrived shortly and you both dug in, the adrenaline of being on the date and the good company making your appetite surge. 

He asked about your family, if you had any siblings, what you did for fun. You told him you liked to write stories and he said he’d like to read some of your work, if you’d let him. He was very easy to talk to and, despite being born on different continents, you found you had a lot in common. Jimmy was only twenty-two, so you had a lot of the same frame of reference for world events and other topics, such as music and culture. 

You learned that Jimmy had been doing sessions for about two years. Prior to that he’d been an art student, studying painting and sculpting. He dropped out after losing his grant, an unfortunate consequence of taking session work on the side for money. Since then he’d been a full time musician. He liked the work, though he’d recently grown disillusioned with it and was seriously considering joining The Yardbirds. 

You finished your meals and made the short walk home, commenting on nothing in particular on the way there, though your anxiety had started to rise at the internal debate of whether or not you should invite him inside. You decided to go with your gut, and that was to enjoy yourself, wherever the night took you, or the two of you. Reaching your doorstep, you gathered your courage. 

“Would you like to come in?” you asked, turning to face him. “We have a pretty stocked liquor bar…could have a nightcap? Mmm…we also have three flavors of ice cream in the freezer?” you added quickly. 

He threw his head back and let out a spectacularly loud, but adorably cute laugh. “Sprinkles?” 

“We have sprinkles!” you confirmed, grinning. 

“Lead the way,” he motioned, ushering you ahead. 

****************************************

You’d scooped two bowls of chocolate (with sprinkles) and eaten them side by side on the couch, feet tucked up under yourself, and Jimmy sitting cross-legged, your boots and his shoes and jacket having come off not long after you entered the apartment. “Make yourself at home,” you’d told him. 

You asked Jimmy if he cared for a post-desert nightcap. He said yes. 

“Pick your poison,” you said, standing up to collect your bowls. 

“What have you got?” he asked, stretching his arms over his head. 

“Whatever you want,” you chided, placing the bowls in the sink. 

“Mmm…have you got rum and coke?” 

“One rum and coke coming up, for the gentleman in the blue shirt,” you joked, mimicking a bartender. 

He smiled and walked over to your mantle. Seeing one of the framed pictures, he picked it up. “Is this your family?” 

Glancing up, you saw the frame he was holding and nodded to yourself. “Yeah…that’s from last summer, just before I left to come here. They threw a going away party for me. Hence the ‘Bon Voyage’ hats.” 

“They look like a fun bunch,” he commented airily. “Who’s this?” he asked, picking up a second frame. 

“Oh, that’s Lisa’s family. They were there, too.” 

“It must be incredible, living with your best friend in a city like London,” he observed. 

“Oh, it is! It’s great fun. I mean, we have our jobs and school, so we do have a lot of responsibility, but in other ways it’s…kind of like a neverending sleepover, only we’re halfway around the world and can invite boys,” you replied cheekily as you made your way over to the couch with his rum and coke and your wine. 

You sat down, and Jimmy followed. Between desert and drinks he’d rolled his shirtsleeves up, now revealing his slim yet defined forearms. Holding heavy guitars all day certainly did a forearm good. They were covered in a light dusting of fine black hair. You took a steadying deep breath. 

Facing each other, you clinked your glasses. “Cheers,” you said, feeling yourself grow prickly in the skin now that you were sitting on the couch in close proximity, with nothing else to distract you. You’d already had desert, there were only a couple ways that the evening could progress. You could have your nightcap and he could go home….or he could not. 

Jimmy must’ve been feeling similarly because he’d suddenly grown more reserved. You both quietly sipped your drinks, each silently wondering how this was going to play out. 

“You know,” you started, swishing your glass before taking a sip. “I think you should join the band.” 

He cleared his throat and learned forward, setting his drink down on the coffee table. He settled back in his place, facing you, his left arm propped on the back of the couch, and his head resting on his hand. Following his lead, you sat down your drink and mimicked his posture on your return. You tucked your legs up underneath yourself, your knees touching his leg. 

His lips formed into a smirk. “Why’s that?” 

“Because you’re very good, Jimmy, and if that’s what would make you happy, you should go for it. Life’s too short to not take what we want when it presents itself,” you added sagely. You were feeling pretty wise after your third drink. 

He nodded his head and contemplated this unprompted advice. “I see. In every situation? Or just the band?” he asked. 

“Every situation,” you confirmed. 

He paused for a beat.

“Should I take what I want right now?” he asked with an edge that was at once innocent yet seductive, looking you in the eyes. 

Your eyelashes fluttered, breath stuck in your throat as his words caught you completely off guard. His sparkling green eyes seemed to see right through your well-polished, polite and ladylike exterior, as if he could read your very darkest thoughts, your deepest-down desires, your most hidden fantasies. Tucked away from the world, only knowable between you and your pillow. The thoughts you had late at night when no one could see you. Scandalous, outrageous thoughts. And they were all about him. And what you saw mirrored back at you in those green eyes was that he wanted to be the one to coax them out of you. 

You found yourself suddenly embarrassed, it felt as though he somehow knew the illicit images you’d had of him in your mind for months. Swallowing, you composed yourself enough to answer. “I guess that depends. What do you want right now?” 

He moved himself closer, and placed his hand on your hip. 

“I want you, Y/N,” he stated simply. 

“Me?” you squeaked, as he moved ever closer, now caressing your side with his large hand. 

“Yes. You.” He moved his head just under yours and began to nuzzle your neck, leaving soft kisses upon it, making your heart pound as you tried with futility to exact some margin of control within your own body. “Don’t tell me you don’t think about me late at night, alone in your bed.” 

How did he know that?!

“How did you know that?!” 

“You just told me,” he answered blithely, continuing his delightful assault on your neck. 

Well, this was it. You contemplated your options. You could let him continue or send him on his way. Did you really want to have sex with Jimmy right now? You weren’t a virgin, but you didn’t have very much sexual experience at all. In fact, your “sexual experience” could be boiled down to the handful of times you let your ex, Paul, pound into you for two minutes while you thought about dinner. You were certain he had more experience than you. But it was only your first date! Nice girls don’t put out on the first date. Nice girls don’t have any fun either, it seemed like. 

Fuck it. 

You gently pushed his head up with your right shoulder and he met you at eye level, his expression curious, filled with both hope and impatience. You grabbed him by the tie and pulled his face to yours, locking your lips onto his. His lips were sensual and pillowy soft as they fought their duel with your own. He alternated at first between soft, gentle, rather chaste kisses and closed-mouth pecks, but after you buried your hands in his curly black locks, you felt his tongue tentatively brush your lips. You tugged his hair tighter and his hot tongue invaded your mouth, rubbing against your own, acting as a preview of events to come. You thought about what he might feel like inside of you and couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped you. 

He pulled back and regarded you curiously. “Have you ever done this before?” he asked gently, stroking your cheek. 

You sighed nervously. “Yes, with my old boyfriend, Paul. It wasn’t very good, though. I don’t think he knew what he was doing…we didn’t do much, I mean we went all the way but…I mostly just laid there,” you added sheepishly. 

He smiled and kissed your lips once more. Pulling back, he whispered in your ear “did you come?” 

You huffed out a breath as an embarrassed smile spread across your face. “What?”

Nibbling your earlobe, he stated again. “I asked you, did you come?” 

“I….” You found yourself at a loss for words. You’d never been with a man so forward! “I…n..no.”

“Well…” he said huskily, licking your earlobe, “we’ll fix that.” 

My God. You blinked harshly. Were you ready for a man like this??

He quickly stood up, lending you his hand to do the same. 

“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked before another smoldering kiss. 

You pointed to the hallway after you regained your senses. “Last door on the left.”

In one movement, he picked you up, causing you to wrap both your legs around his waist. His hands on your ass, he made his way to your bedroom, stopping once to push you against the hallway wall and kiss the daylights out of you. By the time you made it to your room, your head was positively spinning. 

He gently placed you on your bed. You must’ve looked like a deer in headlights, because he felt compelled to explain his impending course of action, “you’re going to be fucked properly,” which did nothing to lessen your bewilderment, to say the least. 

Climbing on top of you, he covered your body with his own and began to kiss you deeply, profoundly. He noticed you were trembling. 

“Shhhh, sweet girl, there’s nothing to be afraid of, love. I promise you’re going to enjoy this,” he said, caressing your body through your clothes. “Let’s get you undressed love, so I can make you feel good, yeah?” 

He gently pulled you to your feet and began unbuttoning your blouse. His fingers fumbled on the buttons a couple times. Despite him taking the lead, he wanted this as bad as you did. Your shirt fell to the floor, revealing your lacy black bra, the one you’d worn solely for this moment. Turning you around, he unzipped your skirt, but not before pressing his body up against your back and nuzzling your neck, allowing you to feel his hardness pressing up against you. Your skirt silently fell to the floor. He brought both hands to your breasts and caressed them lovingly as he kissed your neck. Turning you back toward him, his eyes gave away his enthusiasm as he regarded you in only your lacy bra and panties and fishnet stay ups. 

“Wow,” he breathed. “You’re beautiful, Y/N.” 

You smiled bashfully and made to say thank you, but he reclaimed your lips before you could. He walked you back toward the bed and sat you on the edge. He oh-so-delicately tugged at your right fishnet, slowly rolling it down your leg, following with his lips, until it was off. Then the same with the left. Then, he reached behind you and unfastened your bra, exposing yourself to him for the first time. You felt a little embarrassed but he reassured you that you were beautiful. By the time he scooched you up a little further and laid you down flat, you could’ve sworn your body was made of jello. 

Once he had you laying down flat, he again covered your body with his own, but this time there weren’t nearly as many clothes in the way. Your old boyfriend certainly hadn’t taken this much care with you. No wonder you’d never had an orgasm with him—you were teenagers and he was a wham, bam, thank you ma’am type guy. And yet Jimmy was only twenty-two! How was he this good already??

Jimmy….beautiful, sweet, kind, caring Jimmy wasn’t nearly through with you yet. 

“Oh love, I’m so going to enjoy this,” he mumbled as he nuzzled your right breast. “You’re absolutely gorgeous,” he added, finally taking your now very hardened nipple into his mouth. 

It was heavenly. You closed your eyes and couldn’t hold back the sigh that escaped you. “Oh, Jimmy,” you breathed, your world starting to swirl. You’d been aware of a deep ache settling between your legs while he undressed you, and every movement of his tongue on your nipple seemed to now amplify it. With Paul, you’d gotten wet but it didn’t really feel like anything. It may as well have been your annual gyno exam, for all the pleasure you got out of it. This…what Jimmy was doing to you was completely different. There was a heaviness. You were aching for him, an internal fire, a craving that you knew would only be satisfied by being filled, and you couldn’t wait for him to extinguish that flame.  

After taking his time with his attention to your chest, he returned to your lips, his tongue seeking entrance immediately. He rhythmically massaged your tongue with his own and you nearly went through the roof, imagining it was him inside of you. You were starting to come undone. You needed him, badly. 

After one more quick pass down to your chest and back up to your lips, he breathlessly asked you “have you ever had your pussy licked?” 

Your mouth dropped open. Where did he come from?? This man was making you lose it at every turn. All you could do was shake your head no. 

With one more kiss and a rogue-ish smile, he again moved down your body, kissing every inch until he came to your panties. 

“These are nice, but they’ve got to go,” he announced, gingerly sliding them off your legs. 

He returned to your mound, now face to face with your most intimate spot. He softly ran his fingers over the downy hair that covered you and you almost came off the bed. Oh my god, if that’s him barely even touching you, what would it feel like when he put his—

MOUTH! THERE!! Oh my God, Oh my God!

This man would be the death of you, you were sure of it. His lips sealed around your clit, sucking, while his tongue softly massaged your swollen and sensitive bud. You’d never felt this horny in your life, and he was pushing you further towards the cliff with every plush swipe of his tongue. 

You don’t know how long he was down there but eventually you felt two of his long, slender fingers slide inside of you, his mouth never leaving your clit, all the same. You felt like a waterfall down there. You were certain his face must’ve been covered in you. 

After several minutes of his combined stimulation of your very swollen clit and your most intimate spot inside, you felt yourself racing towards that familiar precipice, the same one you’d gone over night after night, thinking about him in this very bed. The fact that it was actually him doing it this time just made it all the more intense. You couldn’t hold out any longer. 

“Jimmy,” you stroked his hair to get his attention, “Jimmy, I can’t…you have to stop or I’m gonna…” you panted. 

He paused his ministrations just long enough to get the words out, though his fingers continued their assault inside you. “I’m not stopping until you come on my tongue, Y/N.” 

Oh fuck, fuck! What were you supposed to do?! Would a nice girl come on a man’s tongue? A nice girl wouldn’t have let a man lick her pussy in the first place! Oh God, it feels too good, I can’t take this, I—

“Oh God, oh shiiit—oh Jimmy, FUCK!!!” 

And with that, you went over the edge, fell right into his waiting arms. You were drowning and he was your salvation. Your body convulsed wildly, him holding down your hips, mouth still pressed to you, milking out every drop of pleasure he could siphon. It must’ve been a full minute before you could even open your eyes. When you did, you saw him. 

A vision, his black hair tumbling wildly across his handsome face, a smirk across his wet lips. “How was that?” 

You couldn’t respond, so you just laughed. It bubbled out of you. You laughed with all the pent up sexuality you’d repressed over the years of being a nice girl. 

Oh, you were starting to come out of your gilded cage, alright. And you wanted him to be the one to open the door. You wanted more of him. 

“Jimmy….that felt amazing…” you complimented lazily, stretching, your body having been thoroughly jello-ed. 

“I’m glad,” he smiled at you, his breathtaking beauty now amplified after what he just did to you. He shifted from his position between your legs, to beside you, kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers. “Y/N…do you trust me?” he asked, looking into your eyes. 

“I just let you do that, I’d say so,” you chided. “Why?” 

“There’s something I’d like you to do for me. Something that will make me feel really good. Would you do that?” 

You’d move Heaven and earth for this man after what he just did. You had an idea of what he might want, but you’d never done that before. “I’ll do it. …What is it?” 

He smiled gently and gave you a quick peck on the lips before asking “have you ever given a blowjob?”

Your bashfulness returned and you shook your head no, but you wanted to please him. If you could even make him feel half as good as he made you feel, you’d consider it a victory. “Will you show me what to do?” 

“Of course…here, stand up, love,” he instructed, quickly divesting himself of his clothes. You wanted to avert your eyes; he was only the second man you’d ever seen naked, and with Paul it was always over so quickly you hadn’t even gotten a real chance to take in the full glory of the male body, hard and ready. And you didn’t even really want to with him, anyway. 

But Jimmy, oh he was different. You wanted to drink in every ounce of his body, commit it to memory. As he stripped himself of the last vestiges of his clothing, you got your first full look at him. He was spectacular. He was lean, yet muscular. Defined in all the right places. A light coating of black hair dusted his collarbones, as well as his arms, legs, and a thin trail under his belly button, leading to what had to be a larger than normal cock, nestled in another thatch of black hair. You were no expert, but it was big. And pointing straight towards you. Something inside you ignited, and you wanted nothing more than to put it in your mouth. 

He took into his arms, your naked bodies finally, finally! touching one another for the first time. He was warm, and hard, and you wanted to please him badly. 

“Tell me how to make you feel good, Jimmy,” you implored him. 

He kissed you for a moment longer, then answered with “down on your knees, sweet girl.” 

You dropped to the carpet, his throbbing cock now at eye level. It was a reddish-purple color, especially at the head, and had a small amount of pre-cum already beading at the tip. 

“Now,” he gazed down at you, his soft features belying thinly-veiled animalism, “be a good girl and suck my cock.” 

You really didn’t need to be told what to do. You already knew what you wanted to do. Instinct took over, you heard him groan as you took him into your mouth, as deeply as you could. 

You knew from the talk during various sleepovers that guys usually liked a bobbing up and down motion, but you so desperately wanted to explore every inch of him, you just couldn’t do that yet. You took him in your hand, studied him thoroughly. Not just what he looked like, but what different sounds you could coax out of him if you swirled your tongue around the head like an ice cream cone, how you could make him stutter out a breath and say “fuck” if you flicked your tongue over his slit, how you could make him groan if you massaged his balls. Finally, how you could make him pant and moan and pump his hips while you sucked him deeply, up and down. The power was intoxicating. 

Eventually, he tapped your shoulder to let you know to stop. 

You looked up at him, searching for confirmation. “Was that ok?”

“Yes love, you’re doing such a good job that if I don’t stop you now I won’t get to fuck you,” he said. 

His praise made you feel like a million bucks. He must’ve really liked it. He held out his hand to help you up and softly laid you back down on the bed. You’d been so invested in giving Jimmy a spectacular blowjob that you hadn’t taken notice of the intense ache reappearing between your legs, which now made itself known again with a vengeance. It almost didn’t matter that you’d already come once—you were just as swollen and sensitive as before, but now your need to feel him inside of you had reached cataclysmic proportions. 

You craned your neck and found his lips, delivering heated kisses—open-mouthed, wet, sloppy kisses. Desperate kisses. 

“Jimmy, please,” you nearly begged. 

“Alright, sweet girl,” he answered, sensing your need. He lay directly on top of you and used his left hand to position himself at your folds. Feeling him nearly part you, your eyes snapped open. 

“Wait!” you exclaimed, panicked. 

“What is it?” he asked gently. 

“We need a condom…I’m not on the pill,” you said, searching his face for any impatience, but finding none. 

“Oh…right…” He got up and found his pants, digging into the pocket, before producing a small foil package. He sat down on the edge of the bed and you heard the familiar ‘SNAP!’ of the latex. Rejoining you, he smiled and offered cheerfully “no worries, love” before again repositioning himself at your folds. 

He wrapped his arms around you, one arm above your ass, so that your hips were slightly angled, and the other tightly around your back. He looked into your eyes for a moment and kissed you deeply, passionately. You sighed into the emotion of his kiss, and at that moment you felt him slide into you. 

He was exquisite. He started with shallow motions, allowing you to acclimate to him. Your sighs and moans guided him to a different tempo, his picture-perfect cock now moving in long, fluid strokes designed to glide over your most sensitive area with each movement. With every stroke you moved closer towards another release. You didn’t think it would take long with the way he was stimulating you perfectly. You knew he had to be getting close too, because you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you. You knew from being with Paul that that’s what happened to guys when they were close. 

After a while, Jimmy released you from his bear hug and shifted his weight a bit, now having taken both of your wrists into his left hand and placed them over your head, the angle allowing him to begin pounding quickly into your body. At this speed, you would not last long at all. You were almost there, it would only take a few more strokes…you felt yourself building, building, your insides twisting as you neared that cliff, every muscle taut, every nerve ending a live wire. And sure enough, with a few more thrusts, you plummeted over the edge, his name falling off your tongue on the way down. 

While you were in the midst of your descent, Jimmy buried his face in your neck and started pounding you like the Energizer Bunny, a cacophony of whimpers and moans leaving his lips every few seconds. It only took a few more moments before his hips stuttered, and he gave one final, deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt, before you felt him start to throb wildly inside of you, a barrage of groans and curse words spilling from his sensuous lips. He kept his face buried in your hair for a good minute as he came down from his high. 

With a final deep groan he pulled out of you and rolled over, quickly ridding himself of the condom and tossing it in your bedside bin. Still breathing heavily, he turned to you and smiled. 

“I hope that lived up to your expectations,” he said, swallowing thickly. 

Happily, you returned his smile. “Mmm, oh yes. Ohhh yes,” you praised, nestling into his chest. 

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