“Are you okay?” he whispered.
I nodded, though unsure, my chin quivering.
“I thought you were into it. Other girls…”
“What? I said, softly.
“Other girls come in, and… do stuff like that,” he said. “I thought you knew what you were in for.”
I shook my head, and made a little whimpering sound.
“Would they have all fucked me if you didn’t stop them?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice rasping a little. “They would. It happens all the time…”
I should have hated him. He dragged me into their locker room, held me down, egged them on as they used me as a thing, a tool to make themselves cum, but he was so gentle now.
“I’m Jason, Mercy.”
Stupid, I thought to myself. Stop feeling this way. He didn’t protect you. He used you like them.
“You protected me,” I said, stupidly. I pressed my cheek against his chest.
He dropped down, spread my legs apart, held me against the wall. He stopped and touched his forehead to mine.
“Is this okay?”
I nodded. Then he entered me.
It was all at once, with a boy’s sharp eagerness. I cried out as his cock impaled me, sliding all the way in. Its passage was eased by my arousal and the slickness, so thick it ran down my thighs, but he was so fucking big and I screamed, from pain and pleasure at once. It hurt, oh it hurt more than his fingers, but it was a good hurt and I paid him back, raking my nails down his back. That only made him shudder and kiss me as the hot water slid all over us. My legs were shaking, my toes barely touching the floor. He was so strong. His shoulders were boulders, his ass clenched from the effort as hard as stone, his flat muscled belly smooth, the skin a taut layer of softness over hardness like iron, like a statue, and his cock, his cock filled me beyond anything I’d ever felt before, and he made me feel it, impaled me, held me up with his rod and his arms around my neck, one big strong hand cupping my head, firmly but without hurt.
He kissed me slowly, sensually, dragging his tongue over mine.
He whispered in my ear, “Mercy, Mercy.”
I was lost to him. I lifted one leg over his hip.
“Do it,” I pleaded, my voice a tiny whimper. “Please, I want you.”
“Your pussy tastes so sweet,” he murmured in my ear. “You’re so hot. I didn’t mean to…the titty committee thing…”
I scowled at him, even as he pumped his cock inside me slow, rolling thrusts.
‘They’re perfect. You’re perfect. I want you to cum for me.”
He was speeding up, pumping me harder. The pain was all but gone, the pleasure swelled up, unbearable. Oh. God.
Our gazes locked. He was holding my hands against the wall, his palms pressed to my palms, our bodies close, slick with sweat and hot water and lust. His face went slack and I felt mine do the same, but the intensity in his eyes mirrored my own. There was so much raw power in his body, and with each thrust he held it back less, and less, and less, until I was totally overcome. A spike of pleasure rolled through my body, another. The heat between my legs was flooding through my body. It tingled my fingers and toes and pressed behind my nipples. The tide of sensation was so strong it was overwhelming. The light scratchy hair on his chest teased my tender flesh unbearably. Inside me, his rod was hard as stone and hot, buried to the root. He was close, and he wasn’t pulling out. He was going to spend himself inside me.
I rolled against him, not in struggle, not eve in a voluntary motion. There was too much to take. I would have slid to the floor if he wasn’t holding me up. We pressed cheek to cheek, like dancers, fingers laced, bodies pressed together as if we could merge into a single body, a single flesh. Then he came. It was sharp, a grunt and a sudden contraction of his body and another and another. Somewhere deep inside it hurt, but that was far away, carried on the endless tide of pleasure as my legs lifted up and locked around his hips, guttural instinct making me trap him against me as he struggled and grunted through his peak, flooding me with heat, with his seed. His arms slid away from my hands. My arms wrapped around his neck, his around my waist, and he pressed me against the cold tiles as I shuddered through an explosive orgasm, so taken by pleasure I lost my voice.
Slowly, my feet came to the floor. He was so much taller he had to dip to slide his cock out of me, a slow, shuddering motion that reeked of intimacy. I immediately pressed into him, rubbing my cheek on the wet scratchy hairs on his chest, grinding my belly against his sticky cock. His hand curled in my hair. The other caressed my back possessively. He squeezed my ass, held my hip, turned up my chin and kissed me so hard my knees buckled. Panting, sore, out of breath, I stood in the water and let it wipe me clean. He finally detached, but kept his hand on my arm, as if a sudden distance between us scared him.