The First Time (Love in No Time #1) (14 page)

“Spread for me, baby” he says. I oblige. I spread as much my yoga practice can allow for. He breathes over my heated cunt hard before he puts his lips ever so gently on my lips. His mouth moves first in clockwise and then anti-clockwise direction, gently charging my lips with his. He slowly increases the pressures as he moves back and forth. He does nothing else except keep up the pace on this erotic play. Just when I feel I can’t take it anymore, his tongue darts to begin licking trails between my lips. He makes slurping sounds as if he is tasting the best honey ever or whatever is sweeter.

“You taste so sweet, baby. Better than any honey I might have tasted,” he confirms. He sucks so hard for the next whatever minutes that I feel like I either need to pee or come so hard that I might pass out. As if realizing my state, he suddenly let’s go. No! I moan my protest because I am incapable now of articulating anything.

“I have to enter you, baby.” I nod.

“Are you on birth control or something?” Birth control? No, of course not. Why would I be on birth control? It’s not as if I was expecting you to be in my bed licking me like there is no tomorrow! So no, I am not on birth control. Why? Do you have something against condoms?

“Babe, are you on birth control?” I hear him again. Obviously I haven’t said any of the above. It’s all in my head.

“No.” I say, finally. He leans back, takes his wallet from the side table, fishes out a condom, all the while smiling at me.

“Pleased are we?” I throw back at him. He just smiles wider. And before I know it, he is sheathed and is slowly weaving himself in. He is big and I am tight. He knows it. He likes it. He savors it like one does a good glass of wine. Sure, I’ll call my vagina a good glass of wine since we both enjoy wine anyway! He enters very slowly so I feel none of the pain that might be associated with such foreign invasion. I don’t even know when he is deep inside of me and then he stops moving completely.

“Oh, baby. This is absolute heaven. You don’t know how good this feels,” he whispers to me. Oh, I know. I know and I can certainly feel him deep, deep inside of me. He starts to pump me slowly, gradually increasing in tempo. The friction is setting off a mini fire in me. I cling to him.

“Oh, baby wants me to hug her while I fuck her. Here, you go, baby. Here’s a big hug for you. Daddy wants to give you a big, big hug.” I don’t know why but no matter how cute or corny his words may seem, they were having an interesting affect on me—my vagina flexed harder, grabbing his penis and squeezing it.

“Ahhh! Babe—what are you doing? Now why are you flexing your vagina, baby?” He is looking straight into my eyes as he says this.

“Why, baby? Why are you squeezing daddy so hard? You are such a greedy little girl.” “Take, baby. Take all you can. Take everything daddy has to give you. Be my greedy little girl. C’mon. You can do it.”

I begin giggling! I can’t help it. He is so cute even when he is trying to be sexy. But I know giggling is not good for what is building here. It is bound to change or subvert the course of a perfectly good orgasm. And damn if I was going to be the saboteur of a good state of being. So I stop giggling immediately and focus on our connection down under. He hooks my legs further up so he can get deeper and oh, he does. I didn’t think it was possible but I see it is. It is all about positioning too. But instead of pumping me harder, he slows down. He let’s go of my leg instead asking me to crouch on my back like a frog. He crouches too without his penis breaking its contact with my vagina! Wow! Yoga, anyone?

“Look at me, baby.” I do. “Now touch yourself without looking away.” Oooh! The sensation of him filling me and my index finger teasing my nub is sensational.

“Oh, baby, please don’t stop, don’t stop, no matter what happens.” “No, baby, I won’t. I love seeing you like this, all unraveled.” My eyes close in ecstasy.

“Open your eyes, baby. Don’t ever close them on me.” I open them and watch him gather his spit on his index finger and rub it all over my already sensitive nub. I nearly die from the affect again. The wet nub being rubbed mercilessly with the short quick pumps does it for me. I scream and cry as I come, waves on waves of orgasm split me. I push and kick him hard in my orgasmic glory. He continues pumping and rubbing me as I spill the last drop of my juice all over his penis. I am thrashing all over the bed because my over sensitized body cannot take it anymore. I need him to stop and not stop all at the same time. He doesn’t stop. I know for sure now that I am going to die. His body covers me now as he continues his pumping.

“Ask me not to come inside you, baby. Beg, plead, baby.” So I do.

“Daddy, please don’t come inside of me, don’t do it.” I say it again and again. Every time I say it, I feel him grow inside of me, if that was at all possible. Finally, all my pseudo pleading results in a loud, heartfelt groan of a big man coming hard. His head collapses between my breasts as he heaves with great effort. I smile for I like the affect my vagina has had on his senses. This heaving to me is a good sign, I think to myself as I slowly drift into an exhausted sleep. I hope, as I sink deeper, that at some point he would extricate himself from my vagina so the poor, tight crack can breathe again! Then again, who was I to ask control of my own body? Who does that? Certainly not me, certainly not after what my poor body had endured in the best way imaginable.

Chapter Twenty-One

Something jerks me awake—like I am falling down a flight of stairs without any ropes or harness. My eyes open just before my head is about to hit the mosaic floor in my childhood home in Gurgaon. Its dark still. I can hear the rain on the windows. Is it really raining on the first day of the new year? Ugh! Its going to be a dreary start to the year. Hope the damn streets are not flooded again. Transportation will be a nightmare as would commuting even if one found transportation by some quirk of fate.

And why am I thinking of such logistics first thing in the morning? So antithetical to what happened last night in my bed? I turn to look at the other side of the bed. He looks fast asleep. His breathing looks even. But I am proven wrong the moment his arm snakes out to grab mine. Before I can say, “what,” I am lying on top of him, bound to his chest and torso with arms that feel like iron bands. His eyes remain closed as he brings his mouth close to my left ear.

“Babe, will you do one thing for me?”

“Depends on what “that” thing is?” I retort.

“That thing, babe, is all for you, for your pleasure. So don’t ask questions, be a good girl, do what I am about to ask you, ok?”

“Ok,” is all I could eek out.

“Now, I want you to reach between your legs and rub your clit for me. Do it now.”

I reach down and begin to rub my clit. My hands are moving slow. It is morning for god’s sake and I am so sore down there from all is penetrative services. And I am not a woman who is horny in the morning, ever. Yes, if you didn’t hear me say never, here it is again. “NEVER!” So I rub my clit not expecting fireworks or even the slightest leakage. I am a broken drain pipe at night. I leak away to a veritable flood. That is my time to seek oblivion with anyone who will lead me there. Mornings just don’t work. I am hoping (though not expecting) him to change my mind here. So I work away at my clit, letting off short moans, fake ones, for his sake. I crack open an eye to see his lips curved into a slight smile as if he just read every single thought I had!

“Why are . . .?” Before I can finish my sentence, I am laid on my back and he is above me, still with his eyes closed, still smiling his small smile.

“I am smiling because I know exactly what you are feeling right now, you lazy cunt! It is a good thing that I am all wired to go. So here is what you will do now. You listening, baby girl?” He opens his eyes to look at me nod my head in the affirmative. I haven’t opened my eyes yet. Like I said, its too early in many, many ways.

“Okay. I am going to flip you. When I do that slowly slide up my body, rubbing your pretty cunt against me all the way to my face. And then baby, just sit on my face. I want to bury my face in your cunt. Just that. Got it?”

“What?” I am shocked and excited all the same time.

“My cunt is probably smelly and funky and not conducive to smell guided sex right now!” I huff and protest.

“Baby, first, I LOVE smelly and funky, especially your kind of smelly and funky, and second, you sitting on my face with all your juices draining into my mouth is exactly how I want to die.”

“WHAT?!” “Die, are you crazy?” “Why would you speak of death, you crazy ass-hole?”

“Shh---hhhhh! I didn’t mean to say die in like literally die. I meant the figurative “die,” baby—me coming with your cunt in my face is quite equivalent to death, a momentary death of senses from Richter less intense pleasure,” he concludes with a flourish.

I have no words and I feel stupid. He takes further advantage by flipping us around another time so now I am above him, my t-shirt no longer covers my nether regions. I slowly slide up his torso towards his face. My cunt is now aligned with his face. I titillate him by hovering an inch above his face and then slowly lower myself over his semi-open lips. He groans like a parched man who has found the elixir of youth in the desert. I am emboldened by his helplessness. I grind myself a little into his face. He groans more. I grind a little harder. He can’t stop groaning. I think the man likes it! His tongue darts out at repeated intervals to tease my clit. I am getting as excited as he is now. The continued assault on my clit is about to click open the dam. I can feel the floodgates opening with every single, wet lick. I can feel him touch himself as he keeps on cleaning my clit with this mouth and tongue. His tastings increase in intensity as he continues touching himself, hard and fast. I am grinding harder too gleeful for my own impending pleasure.

One final lick and a final tug, we both go over the edge—I put one hand on the wall in front of me and the second one is like a fist in my mouth. His head is now squeezed like a melon between my clenching thighs. It doesn’t bother him for he continues to moan and lick my clit dry.

“Mmmmm, you taste so sweet, my sweet. So deliciously sweet. I knew it. I knew you will be my sunflower and honey grafted together in a deliciously, tight vaginal container.” Oh, god. He totally needs to stop with his attempt at sexual poetry or prose or whatever. It’s just too corny sometimes. Yet it produces the exact opposite of corniness—a delicious state of sexual hibee jeebees. Not sure how he does that (maybe his voice?) but I know anyone else would be out of my house and my life with just one such utterance. I guess you like the eccentric in those you happen to like in spite of yourself.

I stretch downwards to kiss him but all I can taste is myself. Not sure if I think I smell and taste sweet. But, hey, each to their own. And who am I to complain if the guy I like thinks I have the best smelling cunt in all the world. More happy orgasms to me, I say! I am flipped again and he has officially entered me again.

“Ouch!” I protest. My vagina is sore, tight, and not accepting any further entries. But obviously he didn’t get the memo. He is bare!

“What are you doing? You are not wearing a condom!” My protest voice sounds too weak to me.

“No, I am not. I just wanted to be bare in you, baby. Just skin on skin. You feel beautiful, beautiful.”

“Don’t worry, I will be careful. I know how to be careful. I just want to stay inside you for as long as I can without spilling.” So he stays in, keeping my cunt warm and juicy. As I drift into a second sleep, I feel him slowly leave me. I feel bereft suddenly but am too tired to protest. I sleep.

              I feel warm again, inside and out.

“Good morning, beautiful.” His voice is a whisper in my ear. I resist waking up for this is stuff straight off the pages of a mills and boons romance.

“Hi.” I say without turning my head to look at him. It comes out as a croak. I don’t have a morning voice, I realize or maybe it’s the him-affect.

“You want some more shut-eye baby?” He whispers again.

“No,” I say ignoring what my body is asking for “more sleep, more sleep.”

“Good. Do you want to make love for a while? I feel this need, you see, to put my cock in you, in your warm, juicy cunt right now. I know you want it too. I know how much you like it. Let me make you happy baby. Daddy really wants to make you happy again.” My body went into high alert at “good.” Now sweat was pouring out from every orifice in my body. My body was practically weeping.

“Yes, no? What baby? What are you thinking?” I manage a slight nod of my head.

“Is that a yes?” He prods.

“Yes.” I croak.

“Good girl.” He slowly turns me. My eyes remain shut.

“Baby, look at me.” I try but my eyes are really jammed tight. He gently pries them apart for me. His face is just above mine, his eyes are boring in as if trying to see the other side of my soul. I am sure a part of it was bared already to him since last night.

“Hi there, beautiful.” My smile ought to be tremulous.

“You afraid of something, baby?”

“No.”

“You’ll tell me if you are, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you really don’t need to be afraid of me, baby . .”

“Ok.”

“ . . . or my dick.”

“What?!”

“Just making sure you were listening.”

Dammit, he has a sense of humor. This is killer. I am in grave danger—of falling in love with him.

And before I can think another word, he has slid inside of me, bare and hard. I must have been totally juiced up not to feel him slide in that fast, so easily.

“Oh, baby, you feel so good, so good,” he exclaims as he hooks one leg of his shoulder to drill in deeper.

I must be like the longest tunnel in the world for his longest in the world penis to slide through and fit like a glove! I was full, blissfully so. So close to a morning orgasm that I never experienced but only read of. Now I was on the verge.

I thought I was a good minute away from it when I saw him unhook my leg from his shoulder, spread my legs as if I were a frog, get into a squatting position while still inside me and get into a slow slide in and out of me. It was so erotic, this amalgam of positions and movement that I nearly came from it.

And then he gathered his spit on his index finger, lots of it, trickled it over my nub and began to rub it with an urgency—all this while slowly pumping me.

“Oh, daddy.” I couldn’t help it.

“Yes, baby. You like what daddy is doing to you? You be a good girl baby. Daddy likes to fuck his little girl. Mommy isn’t here today. So we can fuck as much as you want. I want to make my baby feel good. I want my baby so much. You keep daddy so hard. Your tight little pussy keeps daddy hard baby, all the time. Sometimes I think of stripping your panties and have you sit on my dick in my office while I work and you finish your homework. You are my good girl. Such a good girl. Look, how you spread so well for daddy. Not even a protest. You know how to please your daddy, don’t you? Who taught you to behave like a little slut, baby? Is it me? Is it my cock? You like me inside you baby, don’t you? Tell me.”

He smacks my bum. Not too hard just enough to sting a little. My body jerks off the bed at the contact. No one has ever smacked me. And no one has every called me a good girl or himself daddy. He smacks me on the right bum now and the next second I am getting to my sweetest spot.

“C’mon, baby, come for daddy. You are the best little girl with the tightest cunt, the juiciest cunt ever. Daddy loves you, baby, so much!” And there it is. I come.

My body roars off the bed as my vagina climaxes into million shards of beauty.

“That’s right, baby. Good. Keep it coming, baby. Daddy loves his little girl. He does. You are the best little girl ever. Give it to Daddy. Take all you can from daddy. Squeeze daddy’s dick baby. Take all the pleasure you want. Take it, baby.” His words just keep the orgasm coming through the tunnel, shaking its wall to the core, cracking in some places I am sure. I don’t know how long I am in a state of sheer Nirvana but when the storm starts to abate, I pass out.

              I have lost track of time—my dreams have no context, no temporal hook, no conscious meaning. My dreams come in many colors and no shapes. Suddenly from flying headlong from the top of a familiar staircase, I am now floating wearing those diaphanous floating materials that I have seen other worldly creatures wear in their flights of fancy, disorienting the mere mortals.

And a voice keeps saying softly, “Hey, baby. Welcome back.” I open my eyes. He is still here.

His voice comes back, “Hey, baby. You passed out on me. Welcome back!”

“Sorry,” is the only word I can muster.

“Don’t be sorry. What are you saying sorry for?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then don’t.”

“Ok.” He smiles as he stares at me for a second before loudly kissing my forehead. I giggle. He pulls back to check if the giggle really came from me. I giggle again to confirm. He smiles and proceeds to kiss my forehead again and again and again as if I am the child and he the parent taking absolute delight in this silly activity. I keep giggling and he keeps kissing. Till he reaches my mouth. His tongue slides in. I resist, horrified for him finding out how foul my mouth smells in the morning. I turn my face to the side. He pulls it right back to align with his waiting mouth. I turn it to the other side and he again pulls it back. I try again. This time he is ready. He keeps my face still, gives me the look that stills me, and then slowly covers the half-inch distance between our two mouths. His tongue wars with mine as he goes in deep, trying to suck all that is foul or not so foul inside of my mouth.

He rolls his kisses making loud sucking sounds every time he turned left into this full roll. He intersperses his kisses with tiny bites on my lips—just tiny but sharp enough to shoot through the core of my being. And I am yet to be fully awake! Suddenly my stomach rumbles, loudly. He stops and I am fully awake now. He pulls back and looks at me. And we both laugh out loud.

“Ok, time to get you fed. I wouldn’t want you passing out from lack of nourishment and too much sex. That would be so wrong.”

“Right. But I don’t have anything at home. So might need to go shopping or order in. I don’t know where or how to order in breakfast, though.”

“Do you have eggs and bread?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Then two breakfasts coming up.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Go do what you need to as part of your morning ablutions. I’ll go make breakfast. We can eat in bed. Go.”