I pictured me thrusting persistently in and out of her. She was lying on the chair in my tattoo parlor again, but this time, I was completely hovering above her and her legs were wrapped around my waist. Her fingers were right on my ass pulling me closer to her, as if I could go any deeper.
Another beast-like growl escaped as I felt myself about to finish. Thrust harder. Thrust faster. I banged my palm on the glass of the shower as I came, the creamy liquid mixing with the hot, steaming water.
Fuck. It wasn’t going to stop. My cock was still hard and I knew it would stay that way until I had her. After I came, I was supposed to stop fantasizing about an eighteen-year old virgin. I was supposed to stop thinking about wanting to fuck a spoiled, rich princess I could never keep. I was supposed to realize how wrong the situation was. But I couldn’t avoid her. I’d have her. My dick wanted what my dick wanted.
She wants you, too. She told you she wants you to take her virginity. I could have her. She told me so. That was fine and all, but I wanted to keep her. I didn’t want anyone else having her, not even so much as touch her. I wanted her to be all mine…and I was too much of an asshole to let her go. But I would ensure she’d love every inch of my dick as it crammed her full.
Becca.
Stop second guessing yourself.
After I left the tattoo parlor, I spent the remaining hours shopping. I couldn’t stop thinking about how into it Jake had been, fingering me with expert precision until I came. Then—then!—he’d said he wanted to stretch out my first time. Most guys would have climbed on top and just fucked me in the chair.
God, he looked like I’d hit him with a two-by-four when I told him I was a virgin and I was untouched. It was like I was a unicorn, a rare find. My girlfriends and I had made the pact to lose our virginities because there was a stigma surrounding virgins in college. The movies and the media said enough, but it seemed like Jake preferred the opposite, that I was a virgin.
But if I was going to give it to him, then I needed to blow his socks off. Or at least his load, deep inside me. God, that one orgasm had made me horny. I went shopping for a white sundress and matching sandals. The outfit, with not a single mark or crease, was enough to symbolize purity. And I was that…right? Pure, except for the fingering in the back room of a tattoo parlor. I wanted to be innocent on the outside, to everyone who saw me, but naughty for Jake with my matching hot, red lingerie that only he would see. The set was in lace, and I read somewhere that red was the color to turn men on.
But now, sitting across from Jake, I tried not to frown. I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t enjoying the dinner– steak and vegetables. I loved it. He’d gone the extra mile and cooked for me. I was just disappointed since I might have overdone the innocent look. We’d been eating and talking for over an hour, and not once had he mentioned what happened back in the tattoo parlor or even to talk about what I’d come here to do. He hadn’t swiped the plates and cutlery to the floor and made a meal out of me. He’d done nothing but be a gentleman.
“Becca, you alright?”
Shit. I’d been too deep in my own thoughts.
“Hey, sorry…” I responded, moving my eyes away from my plate to meet his azure-colored ones. “I was side-tracked for a moment. This steak is delicious.”
If there was one thing attending high-end events with my father had taught me, it was how to steer and carry conversation. I didn’t want Jake to think I hadn’t been listening to him because the truth was he was all I could think about.
“Good. I can make it again next time, or do you think I should switch it up from time to time?”
My eyes widened.
Did he mean…?
“I’m not taking that sweet cherry and running, doll baby,” he then said, and I instantly felt my pussy squeeze in anticipation. I suddenly remembered what happened just hours ago, the way he fingered me and played with my clit. He hadn’t even eaten me out or had sex with me yet, and he was already able to make me come. I could just imagine and dream about what having sex with him would feel like…for now.
In no time, I wouldn’t just daydream about it, I’d be having sex with him. “I want to have sex with you every time and any time I want.”
With every word he spoke, I was growing hotter and wetter. It was like music to my ears, what he was telling me. I had no plans for the summer. I just wanted to prepare for college and change my father’s mind of forcing me into business. I was ready for a boring summer while some of my batchmates were going on crazy, international trips to mark the end of high school. I was ready to indulge myself with my endless list of tv shows, shopping, and trying to find a guy in this town to have sex with me.