Hard As Rock (20 page)

After a couple of minutes he withdrew his hands and dipped his right thumb, then his left forefinger into the jar of lube. “Okay, I’m going to put my right hand underneath your rear end, and place my thumb against your introitus – that’s the part of the vagina where the penis enters during sex.”

“Why do you do that?”

“So I can feel the muscles contracting.”

Huh… okay…

“Alright… lift up slightly.” His voice had become deeper and hypnotic, lulling me further into relaxation.

As I lifted up, I felt his fingers slide beneath me, cradling my ass – which was nice. But I began to wonder how kinky this was going to get.

“Now I’m going touch you, and then place my thumb.”

First he separated my lips with his left hand – and then suddenly I felt a warm, soft, wet pressure at the entrance to my pussy, where his cock would normally enter. He slid the tip of his thumb inside me – enough to make me want a
whole
lot more.

“Okay, now I’m going to touch you.”

I felt fingers – his thumb and middle, I guessed? – touch me near the top of my pussy and pull back the hood of skin around my clit.

“Now I’m going to do the lube stroke.”

What’s the heck’s the lube stroke?
I wondered, and immediately found out.

His forefinger stroked me from his thumb all the way up my pussy.

Unnnnnhhhh.

It was this soft, lovely, sweet pressure, caressing me all the way up my lips and stopping right on my clit – which left me buzzing with anticipation and wanting more. More pressure, more touching, more
anything,
as long as he moved his damn finger some more.

“Okay… now I’m going to stroke you.”

And that was when he blew my mind.

He began to stroke my clit – just little up-down movements, probably no more than a centimeter in length, and no firmer than if you were softly caressing your eyelid.

But
Jesus
it felt good.

He stayed right on one spot. Not all over my clit, like I was used to with guys – if they could even find it at all. But one teeny, tiny spot on the upper left.

His touch was electric. Literally, that’s what it felt like: an electric current running from the tip of his finger to that tiny spot on my clit – but an electric current made of sugar and honey and sex.

A quiet moan escaped my lips.

Soft, rolling, sweet contractions began in my pussy. Little flutters at first… not a hard, intense orgasm, just gentle pulses. They started in waves… intensifying the slightest bit, then easing off… the pleasure getting higher… and the contractions starting all over again, just a little more intense. Another 30 seconds of that, then receding… then starting all over again, but higher, more pleasurable, sweeter…

I could feel Ryan’s thumb barely inside me, almost teasing me, just enough to make me want his cock all the more.

He never stopped stroking – up, down, up, down, his skin never losing touch with mine. I noticed in my fog of bliss that the strokes occasionally felt different. Sometimes the up-strokes, the ones towards my head, seemed more pronounced, and I felt this light, feathery pleasure like I might float off into the ether. Then he would follow with a firm down-stroke, and I would feel this kind of guttural
UNNH
throughout my pussy. The kind of full, deep pleasure when you’re raring to go and the guy is endlessly teasing you with his head right at the entrance of your aching wetness, not giving you any more than the tip – and then he suddenly enters you all in one golden stroke. In fact, that’s the best analogy I can come up with: the up-strokes were like a guy rubbing his pre-cum soaked tip across your clit, then positioning his cock and just barely entering you, making you want to hit him and yell at him and beg for more… and the down-strokes were like finally getting that big, thick, hard cock as deep inside of you as you wanted.

The closest thing I had ever experienced was when I was tripping in Joshua Tree with Derek. The endless orgasms… the altered state of mind, both from the drugs and from pleasure…

But I had been on mushrooms then, and Derek had been using his cock.

I wasn’t on hallucinogens now.

We weren’t having sex.

And Ryan was doing all of this with one finger.

Which was blowing my fucking mind.

I never knew somebody could do so little, and it still feel so goddamn good.

I also didn’t move. At least, not in the last half of the OM. I learned my lesson fairly early. I was getting so excited that I started to move my pelvis, grinding my hips – and he slipped off the spot. It was exactly like when you’re having incredible sex, the guy’s pounding away, you’re about to come, and – suddenly the guy’s cock slips out.

Instant buzzkill.

Ryan recovered quickly, and that warm, sweet, sugary pleasure came back – but I controlled my grinding after that. I just kept my body as still as possible, and let him stroke me over and over, the pleasure building, never stopping. It felt so good, I didn’t want him to move off that spot at all.

The only thing I did was touch him. GRAB him, really. I latched onto his leg with my right hand and squeezed every time I went up another swell of ecstasy. I think I probably left a bunch of palm-sized bruises on him, I was squeezing him so hard each time I crested another wave.

I was in outer space, contractions rolling through my body, heat and pleasure rushing through me from my head down to my feet, my toes curling in ecstasy. I had just finished another peak when the timer went off.

At first I didn’t know what the noise was. All I heard was wind chimes, quiet and remote. I guess I thought that maybe there were some outside the house somewhere, even though I’d never heard them before.

Actually, that’s not accurate, because I wasn’t thinking at all. I was coming down from another series of gently rolling orgasms, and I didn’t register anything at all beyond a dim acknowledgement of
Huh, pretty tinkly sound.

And then the pleasure stopped.

The stroking ceased as Ryan murmured, “Okay, time’s up. Now we do something called – ”

“OH MY GOD, NO!” I pleaded.

I think I almost gave him a heart attack.

He looked down at me in alarm – and then his expression settled into amusement. “That good, huh?”

I half-sobbed, half-shuddered out my reply:
“PLEASE
don’t stop.”

He seemed to consider. “Well… this is basically your standard, vanilla OM… but there’s other stuff we could do that’s a little more intense…”

I was panting, wanting his touch on my clit again. “Do it, please, just do it.”

He looked down at me, and for the first time I noticed how turned-on he looked. Like there was this dark look of hunger and desire I hadn’t registered before. He was lying on his stomach next to me, and I couldn’t see it – but if I had to guess, I would have said his cock was rock hard.

“…are you sure?” he asked in a low, growling voice. For the first time ever, I felt a tiny hint of the intoxicating danger I had experienced so often with Derek.

“Do anything you want to me, just keep doing whatever it was you were doing,” I begged.

And then he blew my mind again.

He put his finger back on the spot, and I felt the
ahhhhh
of that instantaneous electrical sweetness. Then he began to stroke, which sent me off into another whirlwind of ecstasy.

But this time, instead of using the tip of his thumb, he slid all of it inside me. Not only was I getting more sensation, and the feeling of being slightly more filled up – but he began putting pressure against my inside wall, gently massaging towards the left.

Sweet baby Jeebus.

That pressure, against
that
place inside me, wasn’t something I normally felt. The novelty and pleasure of it – combined with being on the orgasm rollercoaster again – made me let out a strangled moan.

Then he began moving his thumb, putting more pressure in other places… like down, towards my ass, softly stroking me inside.

I could feel my pussy grasping him tighter, and I wished I was feeling his gorgeous, thick cock completely filling me up.
That
thought sent me into another series of crazy contractions.

Suddenly, the pressure slipped away.

I felt like yelling
Nooo!
but then something thicker slowly pressed between my lips.

I looked down and saw that he was using two fingers now.

Oh JESUS.

He began to swirl his fingers around, touching me everywhere, a thick, glorious pressure, undulating and circling inside me. All the while his other finger was delicately stroking my clit, so wet, so sweet, so crazy, with my entire body caught up in waves of orgasm –

I couldn’t help myself: I starting moving and thrashing my hips. It felt
SO
fucking good – and this time he managed to stay with me, his finger on my clit, following my movements, as he began stroking his two fingers inside me in that ‘come hither’ motion across my g-spot.

Suddenly I was over the top, my whole body one concentrated point of light and pleasure and electricity. I screamed out as I arched my entire body, every limb suffused with an insane orgasm that peaked higher than I’d been all night, every muscle pulsing in ecstasy. After about ten seconds of that I collapsed back on the bed and put my hand on his to stop him.

And started to silently cry.

I didn’t know why. It was just a spontaneous flood of emotions that I couldn’t control, sadness and joy suffused with the slowly fading pleasure in my body.

Poor Ryan. I totally freaked him out.

He sat up, alarmed. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, unable to speak.

“Did I hurt you?”

I shook my head ‘no’ and smiled through my tears.

“So… it’s good crying?” he asked, unsure.

I kept smiling and nodded ‘yes.’ Then I held out my arms.

He maneuvered around and lay down next to me, his body warm against mine. We held each other like that until my tears subsided a minute later. As I lay there with him, I felt safer and more protected than I ever had in my life.

I also felt something else. Against my leg, specifically.

He was hard –
very
hard. He’d probably been erect the entire time he was stroking me, but only concentrating on my pleasure, not his.

In that state of warmth and closeness, it wasn’t a case of being turned on so much as I wanted him even closer.

The first thing I said when I was able to speak was, “I want you inside me.”

He looked down at me dubiously. I guess he wasn’t used to women crying but still wanting sex. Which, to be fair, aren’t exactly two things that normally go together.

“Um… are you sure?”

I smiled and nodded ‘yes.’ And as proof of what I wanted, I let my hand drift down to his cock and caressed softly up and down the shaft.

He was wet. He must have soaked the bed with pre-cum, he had been so turned on while he was pleasuring me.

He groaned at my touch, then nodded. “Okay, let me grab a condom.”

He started to get up, but I held him there with the lightest of touches. He looked down at me questioningly.

“I… I’m on birth control,” I whispered. “If you… want to… not use a condom.”

His eyes got larger.

“But,” and I felt horrible saying it, “I… I haven’t been tested… since…”

He nodded, like he understood. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Yes. If you are…”

He nodded.

“I want to feel you inside me,” I whispered. “Just you.”

He groaned softly, then gently moved on top of me… positioned his cock between my open legs… and slowly slid inside me.

It was heaven.

His head was thicker than before. Or maybe I was so excited by him stroking me that my lips were swollen. Either way, as he slipped inside me, he felt bigger than I remembered. He filled me up totally and completely, and I moaned aloud as he slipped inside.

My God, the sensation. The sweet, amazing slide of skin on skin, wet and hot and slick. We both groaned in ecstasy at the same time. I could feel every inch of him sliding inside me, every sensation heightened.

He started slowly, his thrusts shallow. He gradually began to speed up, going deeper and deeper, until within half a minute he was pounding inside me fast and furious, his hips slapping against mine. I was moaning loudly as I felt my orgasm began to build again.

Suddenly he stopped.

I opened my eyes and looked at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to come.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m enjoying it too much. I don’t want it to stop.”

I smiled at him and brushed a damp curl of hair from his forehead. “Then take all the time you want.”

He began to move inside me again, but slower this time. He rocked back and forth, and I could feel him throughout my pussy – all the way from his swollen head down to his thick base as he buried himself in me. I tried to look him in the eyes, but every so often they would roll back in my head in bliss.

We continued that way for a couple of minutes, him trying to hang on without crossing over into coming, me riding a plateau of pleasure but not quite cresting the wave.

“Would you… would you get on top of me?” he whispered.

I nodded ‘yes,’ and he quickly pulled out and lay on his back. I straddled him, then gripped his slick shaft in my hand and guided it into place.

But I decided I wanted to tease him.

He didn’t notice at first. He was too entranced with my breasts, cupping them in his hands and sitting halfway up so he could suck on my nipples.

I put the head of his cock just inside my lips and then paused.

After a few seconds, he realized nothing was happening downstairs. He looked at me expectantly like,
What are you waiting for?

I slowly sank down a few inches, and he groaned appreciatively. But before he could get too into it, I moved back up again so that only the very tip of him was still inside me.