by Lizzy Grey
“You,” he said simply. “You’re incredible. I can’t believe I’m your first.”
“I can’t believe you’re my first. I always expected to get a sympathy fuck from someone.”
“You were anything but a sympathy fuck,” he said, pulling open his bow tie, and undoing his shirt buttons. “Anything fucking but,” he muttered, shrugging both the shirt and jacket off, before undoing his trousers. He let them fall to the floor before stepping out of them and kicking his shoes off.
His hard cock was straining against his boxer shorts as he reached for his jacket and pulled out a packet of condoms, put it on the table and threw the jacket onto the back of the chair. Would she be able to satisfy him, she wondered, as she unhooked her bra and let it slide down her arms. He came to her, cupped one breast, and she saw her nipples harden. Lowering his head, he sucked a nipple into his mouth, and she watched as his tongue swirled over it and then the other. Oh, God, in all her fantasies while she was ill in hospital, she had never expected anything like this. When he took her breast into his mouth and sucked on one and then the other, she groaned for the first time.
He released her and slid her thong down her legs and she stepped out of it before doing the same with his boxer shorts, her mouth forming an ‘O’ when his cock sprang free. Reaching out, she held it in her hand, finding her fingers couldn’t quite encircle it.
“You’re huge,” she whispered.
“Because of you. Would you like me to lick your clit?”
“Yes.”
“Go and sit in the chair.”
She did as she was told, opening her legs wide for him. Kneeling down, he slid his thumb over her clit and smiled when she sucked in a startled breath and arched her hips.
“You like this, don’t you?” he asked, doing it again, and her hips bucked.
“Yes,” she gasped. “But I think you do, too.”
“I’m going to make you come with my tongue. Open your legs wider and relax.”
“Okay… Oh, fuck.” He’d found her clit immediately, massaging it with his tongue in long, measured strokes, before flicking it with the tip. She struggled to breathe, holding onto the arms of the chair as the pleasure grew inside her. It exploded when he began to suck.
Opening her eyes, she let out a little groan.
“Samantha?”
“Oh, shit, I think I pulled your hair like the last time,” she murmured.
“It doesn’t matter. Are you okay?”
“Yes. I need some water.”
“I’ll get you some.” Kissing her lips, he got to his feet and went into the bathroom.
Gripping the arms of the chair, she pushed herself to her feet and smiled as he returned with a glass of water. “Thank you.” She accepted it from him and took a sip. “What do you like?”
“Watching you come.”
“And?” she prompted.
“Being inside you.”
“From a first time fuck? I can’t have been that memorable?”
“Yes. You were.” Taking the glass from her, he took a sip and put it down on the dressing table. “Slip those shoes off,” he added, picking up the packet of condoms. “And come to the bed.”
She kicked off the shoes, climbed onto the bed, and watched as he rolled a condom on. He followed her onto the bed and she opened her legs for him again. He entered her, stretching her pussy so tightly that she moaned.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes. Don’t stop. Please.” He nodded and gently moved inside her. “Yes,” she moaned into his neck, wanting to remember everything. The way he felt inside her, stretching her pussy. The way her nipples rubbed against his chest. The way he lifted his hips as he withdrew a little and the way her hips rose to pull him back inside her. His hips fell as he sank into her again, inch by inch, filling her pussy completely. Would any other man ever fill her like this again?
He began his rhythm slowly, pulling out and meeting her hips as he pushed in again. Soon, she needed more. She needed him faster and deeper, and she raised her hips more quickly to meet his, her moans getting louder with each thrust. Their hips were now crashing together and she felt her orgasm taking hold and he found his release with one deep thrust before he dropped onto her with a harsh groan.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself gripping his shoulders, and her legs were wrapped around him in an effort to hold him inside her. Their ragged breathing filled the room and she watched as he lifted himself onto his elbows. She lowered her legs and he withdrew from her.
“Want to be on top?” he asked. “Want to ride my cock?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He slid off the bed and went into the bathroom. She heard the toilet flush and he re-appeared at the door, running his fingers along his already stiff cock. He walked to the dressing table and slid on another condom. How many were in the packet, she wondered. Three? Five? She smiled. Five, hopefully. “What?” he asked.
“How many condoms are in the packet?”
“Five. Want to use them all?”
“Yes, if we’ve time.”
He gave her a grin and climbed back onto the bed. He lay down and she stared at his cock for a moment. She straddled him, reaching for it. Holding it, she eased herself slowly down, expelling a long breath and making him groan. Fuck, his cock was huge.
“Don’t move,” he whispered. “Not yet.” Sitting up, he took one of her nipples into his mouth and sucked on it gently before allowing it to slip out of his mouth and then doing the same with the other. “You’re unbelievable.”
“How long have we left?”
“Don’t think about that,” he urged, his hands sliding down to her hips. “Reception is going to call the room when it’s time to go. Don’t think about that. Just ride my cock.”
She raised herself up a little then sank down onto him again before doing it again. Soon she found a rhythm and he seemed to enjoy her tits bouncing into his face. She closed her eyes, letting her head roll back on her shoulders, her back slightly arched. His hands tightened around her waist and she clasped his face and kissed him as an orgasm took over her, feeling his body jerk upwards against hers. She collapsed against him, completely unable to stay upright.
When she opened her eyes, he hadn’t yet let her go. He kissed her lips before sliding her from on top of him and placing her on her side as he got up and off the bed. She followed him off the bed as he went into the bathroom and the toilet flushed again. Reaching for the glass of water, she sipped it, then picked up a condom and pulled it out of the packaging.
“Can I?” she asked as he stood at the bathroom door.
Nodding, he walked forward, and she crouched down. His cock wasn’t quite hard yet, so she lifted it and ran her fingers along the underside before smoothing a thumb over the tip. Feeling it harden, she rolled the condom on, before kissing and taking the tip into her mouth.
“Don’t,” he said suddenly, backing away from her.
“Why?” she asked, a surge of disappointment flowing through her. Wasn’t she doing it correctly? “Why not?”
“Just don’t do that. Please.”
“But I made you come earlier with the tip of my tongue.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. “I just don’t like it, so, please?”
“Okay.” She got to her feet. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” He kissed her lips. “Please don’t be embarrassed. In time, you’ll discover things you don’t particularly like.”
“I suppose so.”
“What about on there?” He nodded to the dressing table and she smiled and nodded. “Okay.” He lifted her and sat her on the edge before parting her legs, entering her and settling inside her with a little grunt. “I could stay inside your pussy forever,” he whispered, sliding his hands up her thighs.
Lifting her legs, she locked her ankles around his waist and her hands around his neck as he began to thrust hard into her pussy, only pulling out a little before slamming back into her. To her surprise, i
t didn’t hurt. She was going to come quickly this time. She could feel it building already and she dug her nails into the back of his neck and squealed, feeling him jerk against her.
Sinking back against the wall of the room, she pulled air into her lungs and let her legs fall from his waist.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, peeling the condom off in front of her for the first time.
“No.”
“Two left,” he told her, holding the used condom up. “So tell me what you’d like.”
“I want you to fuck me in my lingerie and then I want us to get dressed so you can fuck me in my dress in that tux.”
He began to smile, went to the bathroom with the used condom and flushed it down the toilet. Reappearing at the bathroom door, he gave her a grin. “Sounds good.”
“I hope it’ll be a bit better than good,” she said, sliding off the dressing table and reaching for her thong. Stepping into it, she pulled it up and put on her bra before stepping into her shoes. Straightening up, she felt him standing behind her, his hands cupping her breasts and gyrating his hips against hers. She began to move with him. In her heels, she was almost as tall as him and moulded her body against his as they rotated their hips. “I like this,” she murmured. “Don’t stop.”
“But my cock’s getting hard and I want to be inside your pussy.”
“Okay.” Turning around, she looked down, feeling his cock pressing into her stomach. “Bigger again. I don’t know how you do it.”
“I should be saying that to you.” He smiled, reaching for the fourth condom and sliding it on.
“Over here?” She walked to the dressing table and bent over it, legs apart and her hands gripping the edges.
“Perfect.” He spread her legs a little further apart and pulled the thong to one side before entering her. She sank back against him, taking all of him in and heard him expel a long breath. Holding her hips, he withdrew before thrusting into her again, quickly building up a rhythm. His balls were slapping hard against her but it didn’t hurt. Resting her forehead on the dressing table, she closed her eyes and succumbed to the pleasure.
“Samantha?” She felt herself being raised to her feet. “Come and sit on the bed.”
“Why?”
“You were screaming.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Leading her to the bed, he sat her down and passed her the glass of water.
“Drink that while I get dressed.”
“All right.” She sipped at the water, watching as he retrieved his clothes and put them on. “Is that a tailored tux?” she asked as he left the bow tie loose and the top button of the white shirt undone.
“Yes. I treated myself. Like it?”
She nodded. “Mummy says that a man should always have one good tux and one good suit because you never know when you might need them.”
“Does she now?”
She felt herself redden. “She’s a bit old-fashioned.”
“No, I completely agree.” Going to the wardrobe, he lifted the dress down and removed the coat hanger. “Let me help you with this.”
She got up and put the glass on the dressing table. He held the dress open and she stepped into it, pulled it up and he raised the zip. Turning to face him, the telephone on one of the bedside lockers began to ring and she stared at it in dismay.
“It can’t be two hours already,” she said, as he answered it.
“Hello? Yes. Yes, I understand. Thank you.” He put the receiver down and sighed. “They need the room.”
“Now?” she asked, hoping she wouldn’t cry.
“Now. We’d better go.”
She nodded. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
He laughed kindly. “I should be thanking you.” He led her to the door then kissed her lips. “Goodbye, Samantha.”
“Goodbye, Simon,” she said as calmly as she could as he opened the door for her.
She went out into the corridor and the door closed after her. Blinking furiously, she went down to the ground floor in the main lift and hurried to the ladies toilets. Fixing her hair and makeup as best she could, she took a deep breath and went out into the foyer.
“Freya?” She jumped and looked around. Liz and Amanda were tottering towards her. “Where the hell have you been? We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“I needed some air.”
“You shouldn’t have gone out on your own,” Liz scolded. “Come back into the function room, Anthony wants to dance with you.”
“But he can’t dance.”
“I’ve taught him how to waltz,” Amanda informed her. “Come on, everyone is getting fidgety.”
Sighing, she picked up her skirt again and returned to the function room. Anthony was standing just inside the doors, wearing a tuxedo slightly too big for his thin frame, and his face broke into a grin when he saw her.
“There you are. We all thought you’d gone home.”
“I was tempted. Do we really have to dance?” she asked, watching as guests began leaving the dance floor.
“Your parents seem quite adamant.”
Adamant? Bloody hell. Taking his hand, they walked onto the dance floor, people clearing a path for them. The band in the corner struck up a waltz and Anthony took her in his arms.
“I’ll try not to stand on your feet,” he whispered.
“Good, because these shoes cost a small fortune.”
As they waltzed around the dance floor, empty apart from them, Freya became acutely aware that this was scarily like a bride and groom’s first dance together at a wedding reception. Surely she and Anthony weren’t going to be paired up?
Chapter Three
At breakfast, Freya tried to concentrate on her Sunday newspaper but knew her mother was itching to speak by the way she kept re-arranging everything on the breakfast bar. After ten minutes of it, Freya laid her newspaper down and put a hand on her mother’s arm.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing. Just that you and Anthony looked lovely together last night.” Her mother smiled and Freya’s heart sank.
“Did we?”
“The bank has promoted him and he’s bought a fabulous new apartment overlooking the Thames.”
“I know.” Freya reached for the cafetiere and poured herself more coffee. “I went to the housewarming party last month.”
“And you two know each other so well,” her mother continued.
“I know.” She held up the cafetiere and her mother shook her head so she put it down. “Which is why I wouldn’t go out with him romantically in a million years. He’s practically my brother. It would be like incest.”
“Freya, please.” Her mother’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “Your father and I were first cousins.”
“So I’m amazed I wasn’t born with two heads.” Reaching for a slice of toast, she buttered it and smeared on a little marmalade. “Mummy, I know I’m thirty now and well again and you want to marry me off, but I will never be interested in Anthony in that way.”
Her mother laughed dismissively. “We don’t want to marry you off.”
“So why all this Anthony stuff?” she demanded.
“Because your father and I would like to see you with someone suitable.”
“Suitable?” Had they seen her speaking to Simon? “Some chinless wonder even more inbred than I am?”
“You are not inbred, Freya,” her mother told her in an offended tone. “Your father and I may have been related but we’ve had a very successful marriage.”
“But you didn’t love him when you got married. Your wedding photos are hilarious. I’ve never seen so many forced smiles in all my life.”
“We love each other deeply now and we have a beautiful daughter...”
“…Who developed a heart condition and nearly died.” She finished the sentence for her. “Mummy, I am not going to marry someone ‘suitable’ or anyone even remotely related to me. If I do get married, it will be to a man I love very much and who doesn’t just want me for the fort
une I’ll inherit when you and Daddy die.”
“Freya, you can hardly call Anthony a gold digger. He’s on a six-figure salary now.”
“I know.” She picked up her coffee cup. “So, when I’ve finished breakfast, I think I’d better go and see him.”
Taking the London Underground for the first time since her operation, Freya walked the rest of the way to Anthony’s luxury apartment block and pressed the buzzer. It took him an age to answer and he sounded still half asleep.
“Yes, who is it?”
“Anthony, it’s Freya. Can I come up?”
“Okay.” He buzzed her in and she rode up to the eighth floor in the glass panelled lift. He was waiting for her at the door to his apartment wearing a blue towelling bathrobe. “You’re up early. It was three a.m. when I saw you leave the hotel.”
“It’s half past eleven.”
He shrugged. “If you say so. Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” She followed him into the gadget-strewn kitchen and he put a coffee pod into the machine, a white cup under the nozzle then switched it on. “Anthony, I want to tell you before you get any ideas, that there will never ever be a you and me.”
He turned around and frowned at her. “Eh?”
“You and me – a relationship – marriage – it’s not going to happen.”
“Good.” Opening one of the shiny red cupboards, he lifted down another cup. “It would only one step removed from me shagging Amanda.”
“Anthony.” She poked him in the chest. “Are you awake yet? Mummy’s just more or less told me that you would be a suitable husband for me.”
An undisguised expression of horror crossed his face. “But I’ve just started seeing someone and she—”
“Good.” She gave him a relieved grin. “Excellent. Don’t stop.”
“But what’s going on?” he demanded. “No offence, Freya, but I’d never marry you in a million years.”
“So nobody’s spoken to you about marrying me?” she asked.
“No.” He took a carton of milk out of the fridge. “I think I would have remembered that.”
