Derek got off the bed and made his way over to the bureau. He opened and closed a couple of drawers before locating what he wanted. Then he came back to the bed and climbed in beside her. Sophie, still somewhat shy about being seen naked, well half-naked anyway, hiked the bodice of her dress up to cover her breasts.
She felt a little more at ease when Derek took her in his arms.
"It's okay, you know. Everyone has a first time. Would this help?" With that, he took her hand and placed it on the first button of his shirt. "Go ahead," he urged, "I won't bite, unless you want me to."
She understood now. The small, round buttons were cold and bumpy against the pads of her fingers. With deliberate slowness and ease, she loosened each one to reveal a few inches of his chest, bit by bit, until his shirt fell open to the waist.
Sophie lowered her eyes but trailed her hand across his bare chest, loving the feel of his skin, especially the special way the coarse hair curled around her fingers.
"You're doing just fine. We'll go as slow as you want. Take as long as you please and I promise I'll stop if you don't like something."
Sophie buried her head against his chest and nodded silently. He squeezed her reassuringly and her nod became a nuzzle. The nuzzle became a nip. And soon she was enjoying the erotic taste of his flesh. He was warm and salty, yet slightly spicy. The heady scent of sex hormones filled the air. She felt her own wetness spread through her thin lace panties.
"Help me take off my clothes," she begged. "I want you to look at me. I want to feel your hands on my skin. I want to feel what it's like to have your body next to me, on top of me."
"And inside you." Derek added the all-important third side of the sexual triangle.
Inside me...
Her virgin flesh parting to welcome him, expanding to accept his girth, lengthening to cradle his engorged cock. Not like her slender fingers gingerly playing around, imitating, imagining the forceful pleasure. And certainly not like her monthly insertion of tampons, small and yielding, nestling comfortably inside her, secure and inconspicuous with not even a hint of sexual enjoyment. Not like the man whose ragged breathing burned her skin, whose fingers left a trail of fire wherever they touched. And his lips that kissed each inch of bare skin he exposed--and the sacred place he didn't expose.
)
