Simon felt that strong throb against his palm as her muscles contracted, her face red and her lungs heaving.
“Can you feel that?” she asked him. He nodded. “You did that to me.”
“Amazing,” he said, starting to withdraw.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Um, you’re done, right?”
“Oh Simon, I’ve only just started.” She moved his hands to her hips. “You wanna see what I was doing before you arrived today?”
Simon didn’t know how to answer that. She hooked his thumbs through the waistband of her saturated thong. “We won’t be needing these,” she said. “Get rid of them.”
She lifted her ass from the bed as Simon drew his hands over the roundness of her legs, down past her knees and untucked the lace from her ankles. His eyes flashed back up her legs, drawn to the space between. Her pussy was still twitching, her lips totally hairless.
“I shaved it all for you, Simon. Come here and feel how soft I am.”
Simon had lost conscious control of his own limbs. Claire spoke, and his body obeyed. He lay back beside her, guided his fingers back to her entrance. He stroked across her bare skin, cock twitching, tongue lolling from his mouth. He’d never felt anything so soft. He saw a trail of moisture dribble from her pussy round into the crack of her ass.
“Look at me,” she said. “That’s my clit, that’s what you were teasing at to make me cum.”
“I know anatomy.”
“Uh-huh. But nothing beats practical experience,” she replied. “Now then. Take your middle two fingers,” she said, holding her own hand up for him to see. “Pretend you’re bowling; like this,” and she curled them slightly. “Slide inside, feel how wet you’ve made me.”
His fingertips reached her entrance; her skin felt so hot. She pushed on the back of his hand, encouraging him. Simon forgot even to breathe as she guided his fingers inside her.
“Slowly, gently,” she encouraged him. “Curl your fingers a little more, press against the front of me. Oh yeah, fuck yeah just like that…”
Simon let her guide the pace and angle, her hand holding his wrist. She moaned and begged; he followed her every instruction.
Claire felt his fingers working inside her. So grateful that he didn’t presume to know what he was doing. Past boyfriends never treated her this way. They might finger her briefly, mistakenly thinking they were getting her ready, but they were all too intent on their own pleasure, desperate to shove their dicks inside her. The only hand she’d ever come on was her own. But here was Simon – sweet virgin Simon – bringing her inexorably towards a second devastating orgasm. She could feel the pressure building deep inside, that secret pressure she’d never shared with anyone. “Oh please, oh please yes,” she moaned.
“Tell me,” Simon begged.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” she said. “It feels so fucking good. Just keep going, like that.” Over and over, each stroke bringing her closer. “Suck my tits,” she ordered, pulling his head down to her heaving chest. Simon devoured her boobs, licking her nipples, sucking the areolae as his hand worked her over. “Oh Jesus God,” she exclaimed as he dragged his teeth over her sensitive nipple. “God yes, bite me, just a bit.” Simon took her at her word, trapped her nipple between his front teeth, and was rewarded by her back arching and her shoving her pussy down hard onto his hand.
It wouldn’t be long now, she realised. She could feel it rushing towards her, nothing could stop it now. “Watch,” she breathed, pushing his face away from her tits, drawing his eyes back to her dripping pussy. “Oh shit here it comes… are you ready for this? Are you Ready? For? This?? Nnnngggaaaaahhhhhhh! Ah! Ah! Ah!!!”
With each Ah, her abdomen twitched, and a jet of fluid shot from her loins and splashed over his hand. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!! I’m coming, coming so fucking hard!!! Make me squirt, you fucker! Aarghhhhh!!!!!”
Simon watched, transfixed, as spurt after spurt of fluid sprayed out of her. He’d seen squirting videos on porn sites, of course, but just assumed it was faked. Turns out it was real after all, if she was horny enough. He wondered if keeping going would hurt her; he knew from experience he couldn’t keep touching himself once he’d come. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he did the polite thing and asked, “Should I stop?”
“Don’t you fucking dare! Harder! Forget what I said before; pound the shit out of me!”
“I don’t want to hurt you!”
“You won’t. Please, go for it! Use an extra finger to stretch me open! Slam me like you hate me!!!”
Simon got to work, shaping three fingers into a triangle, thrusting his hand in and out of her as fast as he could, feeling her pussy still pulsing from her last orgasm. Oh, I could never hate you, Claire. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Even with your clothes on. But now… he knew he’d never forget this sight, this feeling. He felt proud of the way he was making her feel, wanted it to never end, but wanted to end her at the same time.
“Fucking do it! Think of every time I teased you, bullied you, and take it out on my cunt! Oh please oh please!”
Her urgency, her foul language, called to something primal inside Simon. He sat up, repositioned himself, and jackhammered his fingers into her, slapping her clit with his palm, grabbing her tits with his spare hand. He watched her face, bright red; her breathing ragged, chest heaving, boobs rolling and bouncing.
“Fucking hell, you’re gonna make me cum again you bastard!” she screamed. She grabbed her legs, pulled her knees up so they were touching her tits, giving Simon the fullest possible access to finish her off.
“Yeah, come for me, Claire. I want to feel you crush my hand!”
“Shit here it comes, here it fucking comes…”
It started in her legs, her thighs quivering as again she splashed over his hand, soaking the bed. She curled upwards with the force of the contraction, feet back to the mattress, sitting bolt upright, forcing Simon’s fist against her convulsing pussy.
“Aargh! Cumming… so… hard…” she shook. Simon felt like his fingers might be broken, but he didn’t care. He’d never felt anything like it, and he wanted to remember every second, every sensation.
Slowly, Claire’s tremors subsided, and her breath started to return to normal. “Oh, my god. Do you know how many guys have been able to do that to me?”
Simon didn’t dare guess. Ten? Fifty?
“Nobody. None. Nada. I just… no words. Come here and kiss me, you’re amazing.”
Simon’s heart leapt. “Nobody? So… does that kind-of make me your first, too?”
Claire smiled. “I guess so,” she agreed. He really was something, she realised. He was kind, and he listened. Her pleasure was important to him, more so than his own, perhaps. That was such a turn-on. How can a virgin understand the secret of sex without having had any – that the pleasure is in the giving? She could see herself letting him do things to her that she hadn’t let anyone else, simply because she trusted him to stop if she asked. Nothing was more attractive, was sexier, than that kind of trust and honesty.
As they kissed, Simon retrieved his hand – fingers wrinkled like a prune, covered in her scent, sticky sweet. He vowed never to wash that hand again. That night he’d lay in bed, smelling her on his fingers, clamping the hand over his nose as be brought himself to a powerful orgasm. Sucking one of the fingers, tasting her. Wondering if he’d ever get the chance to enjoy that taste directly, fresh from the source.