I place my hand over his and try to make him speed it up, but he is stronger.
“Are we going to get you there together?” he asks, voice raspy.
Suddenly, we’re both moving our fingers together. I’m no longer concerned with how fast or slow we go, just that we are doing it in unison.
I’m trying to hold off the orgasm because I never want this moment to end—but it’s too powerful, and it surges through me like a flood breaking through a dam.
“That’s it, baby. Come all over our fingers. Get ready for my cock.”
His words make me moan louder and come harder.
As soon as I have the ability to think straight, I reach into his boxers and wrap my wet fingers around him. He groans immediately and moves his hips while I stroke him.
“Fuck,” he whispers.
I keep stroking until I realize it wasn’t a goodfuck. Not the kind that means he’s so damn turned on that he can barely stand it.
“What’s wrong?” I murmur, unsure I want to hear the answer.
“I only brought over one condom. Please, please tell me you have one,” he nearly begs.
“I don’t.”
Is there a less embarrassing way to say it’s been a long time since you’ve even had sex, let alone worried about a condom?
“I’m on birth control,” I blurt out before I can think about what I’m suggesting.
I’m sure he doesn’t trust me enough to believe that I’m telling the truth. Who knows how many women would say something like that to trick him for his money?
“I’ve nevernotused one,” he replies.
“Right. Of course. I’m sorry.” I start to move my hand again. “There are other things we can do for you.”
He rests his head on my shoulder as I tighten my grip, trying to focus on pleasuring him.
“I had an appointment a month ago,” he says in a strained voice.
I stop and wait, wondering if he’s going to continue.
“Just an annual checkup, but I always have them test me. I was clean.”
“I’m clean,” I reply softly. “It’s been a while for me. But how many women have you been with since?”
He looks at me through the darkness of the room, the hint of light letting me see his confusion. “I haven’t been with anybody since I met you.”
His confession sends my pulse into overdrive.
“You haven’t?” I manage; my voice tinged with astonishment.
“You’re all I’ve thought about from the moment you walked into my office two months ago.”
I lean into him. Our lips brush—soft, tentative, testing the moment. Then his lips move over mine with a sense of urgency. I work to pull down his boxers and help him kick them off to the side, then do the same to my shorts.
I grab his length and bring it to my entrance, showing him exactly what I want to do. “I trust you … if you trust me.”
He responds by pushing himself into the hilt, completely bare.
“Holy shit,” we both scream in unison.