#we're back!

The anticipation that you kept silent was driving you mad. Your heart was pounding into your throat, into your ears, so loud and distracting that you didn’t even hear him speak when he pulled into his driveway and shifted the car into park.

“Sorry. What?” You fumbled with your seatbelt, hands trembling.

Whatever he’d said, he didn’t repeat. Instead, he looked down at your failure to unbuckle yourself and asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I’m just–” You sighed with a bit of welcome relief when you finally unbuckled yourself. The seatbelt snapped away from you as you blinked into the darkness beyond the windshield and at the interruption of lights beckoning you inside his home. “No, really. What did you say?”

He smiled his signature big, bright smile. “I just asked if you wanted to come in or if you were ready to go home.”

Oh, right. You’d forgotten your car was right there, right behind you, parked on the street. The whole evening had become a blur, so much so that it took a moment to recount it–you’d met Josh at his house where he greeted you with that smile and a kiss that you’d been craving for days; you’d gone to dinner, where the conversation had been lively, light and full of laughter, then you’d gone for a walk in the park as the sun began to set, your hands entwined and the warm breeze and faint green scent of summer as enchanting as the scent of him beside you, close to you, his equally warm scent and familiar voice and body such a comfort.

You were ready. You were so ready. Nerves be damned, you wanted your first time to be with him and you couldn’t imagine a more perfect night for it.

“Let’s go in,” you told him, already gripping the handle to exit the car.

Anything he had in mind went right out the window. There was only one thing on your mind. You kissed him as soon as you were inside, the force of your desire pushing him against the front door. He giggled and put his hands on your waist, absorbing your needy, frantic energy that was going to come to a head soon. Your body was tingling with every gentle kiss and every little touch, and you pulled him in as close as you could, slipped your tongue over his and felt his pulse jump beneath your fingers that brushed over his neck.

He sighed when your lips trailed across his jaw and down to his throat, a little sound you always loved hearing. His pulse jumped again when you kissed that tender little spot, yet his body was so relaxed against your own that was rigid with nerve-wracking anticipation. 

You’d already done everything else, you reminded yourself. Slipping a hand between the two of you to feel his cock stiffening beneath his pants was nothing new, the weight of it familiar, the heat of it enticing. A soft moan slipped from his lips and his hands roamed from your waist to your hips, then one slipped even lower to squeeze your ass. That also wasn’t new. There was nothing to be nervous about.

Besides telling him, which you knew you had to do when you were in his bed, him on top of you and pressing reverent kisses to your neck, then your chest as he gently squeezed your breasts, his hard-on nudging your thigh.

“Josh–baby–” It was hard to even get that out. His name and the pet name came out breathless and could have been easily mistaken for urgent encouragement if not for your hands finding his shoulders. He looked up at you with shining dark eyes, his curls a mess from your eager hands, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how cute and special and sweet he was. 

You just had to say it, so you said it: “I’m a virgin.”

“Oh.” There was no judgement in that single syllable. There wasn’t even any real surprise. It seemed as though he was just soaking in the information for a few seconds, maybe gauging where this was going now, but then a flicker of understanding shone in his eyes. “It’s an honor to be your first.”

A laugh bubbled out of you, your mind unable to find any more words. You threaded your fingers through his hair and kissed him, and all the words that might have found you during that kiss disappeared when his touch to your thigh sent a shiver up your spine.

“Oh, fuck.” Even as he slid to the side, you gripped his arm–this time, with encouragement, not resistance. He pressed his body to you, hooked a leg over yours to spread your thighs wider, and rubbed your clit with a gentle yet skilled touch while the kisses commenced.

His cock was pressing into your hip, hard and warm. It could have been intimidating, knowing what was coming and where that was going, but with him, it wasn’t. Josh didn’t even try to get your hand down to himself–his focus remained on you, sparking so much delightful pleasure that you already felt close. 

So close. He just kept going, and when he slid two fingers inside you then slid them back up to your clit to massage with your own slick, that was it. You tugged on his hair, bit down on his lip and choked your own moan down.

He hummed against your mouth, a smile splitting across his face. “Lucky for you, you can come again.”

True. You’d done that before, too–with only him. But you’d never had him inside of you and the thought of that–well, fuck. There were, again, no words.

“I’m ready.” At least you could say that. You reached down and circled your hand around his cock–he felt ready for you, too, and his smile and bounce into action confirmed that.

“One second.” He stretched over you, reaching for his nightstand. You smoothed your hands over his chest, teased one nipple, and he shuddered and laughed. He sat back on your thigh as he unwrapped the condom, looked down at you and winked. 

He was always so much fun. The feeling of frivolity and lightness never changed even when you were fooling around, and it was obvious that it wasn’t going to change even when you went all the way. It was something you’d never be able to take back, but you already knew you’d never want to. You’d never met anyone else you’d been so comfortable with, adored so much, trusted enough to be this open with and so close to–being careful and waiting had led to this, to him, and it was exactly how it was supposed to be.

It definitely was. It didn’t even hurt when he made the slow slide inside, one inch at a time. There was a little discomfort–it was such a foreign feeling, different from fingers–but his lips on your neck and the weight and warmth of him on top of you swept the last of the nervousness away and steadily let you surmount the strangeness.

“How’s that?” he asked, his voice gentle, his breath tickling your ear, his curls tickling your cheek.

“Good. Nice.” You felt his lips curve against your neck and you smiled, too. Yeah, it was good even just to feel him inside you perfectly still, but when he pulled back a bit and pushed back in, it was something else entirely. Something so exciting that you gasped and dug your nails between his shoulder blades, into his smooth skin and the thin layer of firm muscle beneath. “Fuck, yeah–I like that.”

He repeated the slow thrust. “Good. I do, too.” He kissed up your neck, pressed a single one to your cheek, then captured your mouth with his again, moaning softly before he pulled away and said, “You feel so fucking good, babe. Like, unbelievable.” 

So did he, and you grabbed his hip to pull him in again, deeper this time. Every nerve in your body was blazing, not with anxiety now but affection tinged with lust like you’d never felt before. The sting that followed his next thrust made you hiss, and he kissed you again and muttered a little apology that flowered in your heart because he really meant it and he slowed down again even as your hand on his hip tightened, because you did want more. You just had to wait a little while longer–let your body adjust and warm up to every new sensation, all that fullness and heat and the mental recognition of how final it all was.

But it was also the beginning of something. You could see that in the way Josh pulled back and looked at you, his smile still there but subdued, cheeks rosy, eyes bright and lashes fluttering as he searched your face for something. 

Reassurance, you realized, and you gave it to him with a gentle squeeze to his hip and a tender caress of his face.

He thrust again, all the way, but this time there wasn’t a modicum of discomfort. You gasped from pleasure, not pain or even surprise, and closed your eyes, smiled at the faint tickle of his curls touching your cheek, and kept your hand on his hip while the other trailed down from his face to his bicep. His skin was so smooth and soft, so luxurious beneath your fingertips that traced the muscle largely built from just bopping around all the time, always being on the move, but also diligent effort that kept him fit. 

You’d really lucked out with him. You knew he felt the same about you when he kissed you deeply, then said, panting slightly, “I like that we waited. You deserve to be cherished.”

There were no words you could find to say to that, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t have the time to form a verbal response–he leaned back, one arm loosely wrapped around your leg, and slipped his free hand between your thighs.

His name was what you uttered, a whisper that made him meet your eyes and his lips curve in the slightest smile. You wanted to touch more of him but all you could reach was his forearm hooked around your leg; he wasn’t giving up on those rhythmic, wet circles of your clit as he continued with the equally rhythmic, wet thrusts. The combination made your moans consistent and your eyes closed again. As much as you wanted to keep looking at him to soak up his adorable, handsome face, it was all too much and your body was responding of its own volition in a way it never had before. With him, letting go and taking it all in was natural.

You tightened around him, the slick walls of you squeezing him like your body wanted him even deeper–once it happened, you realized you did, and he moaned and his arm around your leg squeezed in silent reply.

Words came when you tightened around him again, though. “Fuck, babe,” he said softly. You opened your eyes, throat tightening with another inadvertent squeeze of your pussy, the pulse between your legs alerting you of more anticipation–this time, anticipation in your body, not your mind, of another new experience. 

“You gotta come first,” he said, and you could tell he was also getting close. His rhythm was becoming a little erratic, a little faster, and it was good–even just the repeated push of his hips against your thighs made your legs quiver and skin tingle. 

Then he leaned back a little more and took you with him, pulling you in and up a bit, and it was like nothing you’d ever felt before–his cock hitting so deep and just right against your walls and your g-spot, which you’d never even known you had until he came along. But now it wasn’t only fingers, and it was so intense that the moan you had to let out was strangled and breathless.

You dug your nails into his forearm and reached out to find him with your other hand, any part of him, and hit your peak, moaned his name and a stream of curse words, all of it spilling out like he’d broken a dam. He huffed and rubbed your clit until you squealed and your thighs clamped around his hips, your body protesting in its own way as much as you’d love to ride that high forever, and he obliged your desire to get your hands on more of him. He dropped your hips and moved in, his curls tickling your chest, the tip of his nose running over your skin, then kisses trailed from your breasts to your neck then, finally, to your mouth.

The kisses were sloppy and desperate, actually a little funny to you with all the endorphins rushing through you. You held him close, stroking his back and his hair, and smiled into another kiss before you parted your lips and your tongues met. He sighed, his thrusts almost as sloppy as his kisses, though you could tell he was holding back a bit. He was keeping it together and just gentle enough to not spark anything but more pleasure that ebbed and flowed.

Your heated kiss to his neck, lips and teeth coming together to nip at his tender skin, drew a sigh and shudder out of him. His hips stuttered and he moaned, dropped his head to your shoulder, and the shuddering mingled with panting and a few more slow, deep thrusts inside you.

“Shit.” He laughed a little, which made you smile. You nestled your cheek against his head, relishing in the softness of hair and the soft little sigh that warmed your shoulder. A moment later, he popped his head up and asked, “How was it?”

“Honestly?” The brief pause made his eyes bright with anticipation–amusing to you, because how could he doubt for even a second that all of that had been anything less than incredible? “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

He beamed at you. “It can.” Dipping down to nuzzle your neck, he added, “I’m glad it was good.” 

“Josh, it was amazing.” Now that you were cognizant, you recognized that it really had been better than you ever thought it could be. It’d always seemed so daunting. Treading into the unknown was always a little scary–even more so if you couldn’t be sure who you were going into the unknown with was someone who would keep you safe and be with you the whole way.

Josh was just that person. There was no doubt about it.

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