At the same time his thumb stopped stroking, it was joined by his finger and they pressed together. Also at the same time his other hand slid into the front of my panties and went deep.
I felt a shockwave shoot from my nipple and detonate between my legs.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
He didn’t stop, both his hands worked me and I pushed back into his body, nestling my bottom into his crotch. I started breathing heavily, my still-sleepy mind completely muddled.
I tried to turn, to touch him but his arms tensed and he held me where I was.
I gave up, giving into the sensations. I felt his teeth nip my shoulder, catching the strap of my nightgown. His body moved as his mouth pulled down the strap, exposing my breast. He was now skin-against-skin at my breast, one of his fingers slid inside me and I felt heat slice through my body.
I tried to turn again but he kept me where I was, finger moving in and out and instinct made my h*ps move with it, riding his hand.
“Jesus, Jules,” he said at my neck, his voice hoarse and his finger slid away and touched me again, moving, swirling and I felt it coming.
I’d had orgasms before, self-induced, but it was nothing like this, nothing at all. It overwhelmed me, I sucked in breath and Vance knew it was going to happen.
He rolled me to my back, his hand still between my legs, I wrapped my arms around him, bucked my hips, his mouth came to mine and it hit me.
And when it did I moaned his name.
The minute I finished his name, he moved away and I made a detached mew of protest at the loss of his heat and hand but he wasn’t going anywhere.
I was still in the throes of my orgasm when he tore my panties down my legs, spread my thighs and he came up between them and filled me.
It didn’t hurt, not at all. Instead it felt beautiful.
I whispered his name again. He pulled up my legs at the knees, pushing deeper, moving rhythmically and my h*ps matched the movements of his.
“Jesus Christ, you’re tight,” he muttered into my neck and I wrapped my arms around him, pulling my knees back further so he could slide deeper
He went up on his hands, grinding into me, looking down at me, his eyes dilated, his hair around his shoulders.
Looking up at him, at that moment, he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“Come back to me,” I murmured and the minute I asked, he did, his hand moving between us, touching me, pressing into me. I was sensitive there, ready again. I started panting, it was too much; I thought it would shatter me.
“Vance,” I whispered in an urgent voice.
“Let go,” he told me, deep voice husky, eyes staring into mine.
I did.
A few minutes later, he did too.
* * * * *
I used to go to summer camp in the mountains for two weeks and, when I got older, I became a camp counselor.
We did a lot of horseback riding.
Maybe Indy was wrong and it wasn’t an urban myth.
Whatever. It didn’t matter.
What mattered was the fact that I just discovered that sex was great. Sex was wonderful. Sex was the best thing ever invented.
Vance’s weight was on me, pressing me into the bed. He was still inside me, my arms wrapped around his waist, thighs tight against his h*ps and I was thinking stupid thoughts, my mind racing, my body spent.