Panties weren’t easy to break.
My sister and I had fought over a pair when we were younger. She said they were hers, I knew they were mine. And it all boiled down to the fact that we fought over them.
There was a lot of pulling, tugging, and screaming involved.
And in the end, the panties were stretched, but not torn.
Not to mention that the underwear were quality.
I’d spent a pretty penny on them. I knew that it was likely I’d be seeing Bourne at the party, and inwardly, I wanted to know I had something sexy on, even if he’d never see it.
And oh, boy.
Though he didn’t see it, he definitely felt it.
“Fuck,” he said as he felt the heat of me touch the tip of him. “What the fuck?”
What the fuck?
“You’re so wet and ready,” he groaned. “How long have you been thinking about me? Be honest.”
How honest did he want me to be?
But, of course, the complete wrong answer came out of my mouth. When he said be honest, I was going to be honest.
“Since we were in tenth grade,” I breathed against the side of his face, loving how soft his hair was.
He froze, his hand clenching on my outer thigh.
Then he seemed to forget momentarily and backed away, his cock dragging deliciously through the folds of my wet sex.
“No shit?” he asked.
The lights flickered on, and my heart dropped to my knees.
I wasn’t upset that they’d come back on, or worried that we’d get caught. There was no way that he’d let me get caught doing this.
I was sad because if we had to stop what we were doing, we wouldn’t finish.
I knew it with every single inch of me.
We wouldn’t be moving this to a different place. It was either happening, right here and now, or not at all.
The desolation must’ve shown on my face, because he cupped it with his hand and started to say something.
A hard boom, followed by the sound of a transformer blowing, quickly caused the lights to go out once again.
The room plunged into darkness, and that was when Bourne plunged inside of me.
The cry of surprise that fell from my lips was echoed around the room by other’s cries of surprise. Though, I had a feeling that their cries were for a whole lot different of a reason than mine.
“Shhh,” he said against my mouth, his lips whispering against mine.
I tried to hold in the whimpers, but Bourne was a big man.
Like… big.
I had no knowledge of my first time. None.
And since I hadn’t had sex again since my first time—I mean hello, I had a five-year-old, people—I really wouldn’t have anything to compare Bourne’s thickness to.
I would be remembering this time, though.
The beers that I’d had earlier were quickly wearing off, and I was one hundred and ten percent behind what we were doing. It would also mean that I would know what I was missing when it was gone.
Bourne pulled out, then slowly slid back inside, filling me up even more than before.
My mouth fell open in a silent cry, and my hands clutched at his shoulders.
“Faster,” I pleaded. “Please go faster.”
He didn’t move faster.
In fact, he moved slower.
“Bastard,” I whispered. “Please.”
He laughed against my throat where he was slowly dragging his lips against my pulse point. Likely measuring just how much he excited me.
“You’re killing me,” he growled, his thrusts staying smooth and measured.
Not too hard. Not too soft.
Just right.
For him, anyway.
God, if he’d just go a bit harder, I’d come.
I knew with every fiber in my being that I would be coming tonight. Hard.
The explosion was going to rock my world and star as one of my go-to fantasies for masturbating for many years to come.
“I’m killing you?” I asked. “You’re nuts. You’ve been taunting me all night long with that hand of yours on my ankle.”
His chuckle was breathless as he pulled away from my throat and once again moved his mouth up along the length of my jaw.
“I had to switch you over to cups of beer instead of bottles because watching you put your lips to a phallic-like object was driving me insane,” he growled against my lips.
I snorted. “I kept wanting you to drag me to you by my ankle, spread me open wide with that hold you had, and plunge inside of me.”
His cock jerked as he lost his rhythm.
“You bent over the couch earlier and I could see these,” he said, dragging his hands up the length of my thigh,