So Wrong

by Camilla Stevens

  The feel of her lips on his, her body pressed up against him once again, it was more than he could handle.

  “Listen, Bonita,” he said, pulling away again, causing a frustrated groan to escape her lips. “Your first time…it should be…special. I just—Jesus, looking at you, I can’t—”

  A gleam of understanding came to her eyes and she reached out one hand. Her delicate fingers encircled him, causing a groan of pleasure to escape his lips. Her other hand came around his neck, fingers weaving through his hair as she brought him down closer.

  “Touch me,” she whispered in his ear, as she began stroking him lightly.

  It was all the encouragement he needed. One hand reached out to cup the breast that was right before him, savoring the heavy weight of it in his palm as his thumb stroked the rock hard nipple. A soft mewl came from her lips, and he felt her grip tighten around his shaft, causing him to join her in a chorus of pleasure.

  His other hand reached around to grip the ass that had taunted his fantasies since the day he had first laid eyes on her reaching for that book. He slid his palm over the soft, smooth plumpness, squeezing indulgently as he brought her closer to him.

  He felt Bonita’s hand, the one that wasn’t sliding up and down his dick. It wandered over his body, like that of a blind person exploring their surroundings. Gliding down from his neck, it slid over his shoulder and bicep as they flexed in enjoyment while he explored her body.

  She smiled up at him, biting her lip as one hand wandered and the other went to work on him.

  “Do you like it?” she asked.

  He laughed. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  That made her laugh too.

  Her eyes followed the hand that was now tracing a path over his chest, circling the nipple then rippling over each ab. Her expression was one of concentration as she followed the line of his left oblique around to his ass. He instantly flexed his glutes, not to impress her, but as a reflex to the feel of her soft touch gliding over them.

  “You have such a perfect body,” she said with awe.

  “Ditto,” he said, smiling down at her as his hands continued to massage and knead the most sensuous parts of her body. For now he was happy sampling what lay before him. The urgent need that was about to erupt—God, but her hand felt amazing on his cock—would give him the patience he needed later on to savor the main course the way it should be enjoyed: leisurely and indulgently.

  Bonita loved the feel of his cock in her hands. It was bigger than she expected—at least eight inches long and so thick her finger barely met the thumb as she pleasured him—which excited and terrified her. As her fingers felt the veins and ridges that covered the hard area, she imagined what it would feel like inside of her. As her palm cupped the large head she wondered what it would feel like the first time it penetrated her. The thought alone made her moan with anticipation.

  She understood immediately when he hinted that he needed immediate release. Bonita knew that the first time for a woman could be awkward and painful. If River needed to have a first round to keep him from jackhammering into her then she was more than happy to accommodate him.

  It reminded her that she had made the right choice.

  The feel of River’s hands exploring uncharted territory—even Darryl hadn’t gone this far—awakened new and exciting feelings inside of her. His thumb flicking over her sensitive nipple sent shocks of pleasure through her body that bordered on pain. His large hand gripped her ass so hard that she feared he’d leave a permanent mark. The desires it unlocked brought back memories of reading taboo romance novels underneath the covers as a teenager. Now she was indulging in the ultimate taboo.

  And she loved every moment of it.

  She felt his grip tighten on her flesh and her eyes darted up to his face.

  “Unh…Bonita,” he breathed. It was followed by a loud groan.

  She instinctively began stroking faster and harder as if following some natural instinct. She felt the pulses under her fingers and she looked down to admire her handiwork.

  Thick, white liquid erupted from the head landing on her hand, his stomach…and her pubic area.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed looking down. It was loud enough to bring River out of the tail end of his climax and follow the direction of her eyes

  “No!” she yelped. It evolved into a chant: “no, no, no.”

  “Shhh,” he said reaching a comforting arm around her.

  “I can’t—!” she began.

  “I know,” he chuckled, completely unfazed. “Frankly, I can’t either. But it’s fine, here let me.” He turned her around to face the shower head.

  Her eyes were focused on the flow of water sending the deceptively harmless looking, thick, white liquid down further and further into her pubic hair. Her hand instinctively reached down to try and wipe it out, but it was usurped by River’s hand, filled with green gel.

  “I’ll wash it away. Don’t worry,” he whispered in her ear as his much larger body pressed up against her backside.

  He didn’t start with ground zero, opting instead to massage the green gel into her stomach, turning it into a foamy mass, wiping away the evidence of his release. His other hand came around to join in, one hand leading up to coat her breasts in slippery, soapy suds, the other leading down into the mass of curls hiding her sex.

  Bonita’s concerns drifted away under the expert way his hands explored her body, both giving and taking pleasure. The one getting tangled in the triangle of curls was careful to wash, rinse, and repeat before delving deeper. Neither of them were prepared for a permanent reminder of tonight’s activities. The other hand was exploring with wild abandon, happily slipping and sliding over and around one breast to the other.

  “God your body is amazing,” he murmured in her ear.

  She just leaned back, finally relaxing into his exploration over virgin territory. As his fingers probed further and deeper, she willingly spread her legs, leaning back into his solid mass for support as her body turned to jelly.

  “Oh…River!” she moaned as one soapy finger found the hidden treasure, now exposed from arousal.

  Her hand came back around his neck for more support as her legs quivered dangerously. River just continued to circle the tiny little nub of nerves that sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body.

  Eventually, she couldn’t take any more and she pulled herself away reluctantly . She turned around to face him, one hand going up to caress his cheek.

  “I’m ready,” was all she said.

  River looked down at her, realizing that the moment of truth had arrived. Noting the conviction in her voice, he reached around her to turn off the water.

  He reached out for the one clean towel he had hanging on the rack. Wrapping it around her shoulders he turned her around to face him. Taking hold of the edge, he brought it up to the mass of wet curls and began vigorously rubbing it over them.

  She laughed. “It’s never going to get dry, you might as well work lower.”

  His eyes traveled down with a greedy gleam. “As you wish, Pretty.”

  Instead of blushing with embarrassment as usual at her inadvertently suggestive remarks, she laughed even more. River was enjoying this new side of her. In fact, he was enjoying every side of her.

  He wrapped the towel around her shoulders again and guided her out of the steam of the shower. She stood there looking smaller than ever as she shivered underneath the towel while her body got used to the cooler air.

  River was naked and dripping as he searched around in the bathroom closet for another towel. He grinned as he felt her eyes surreptitiously crawling over his body. At least now he had an idea of what it felt like for her when he ogled her. He kind of enjoyed it. He couldn’t wait to see where this night took them.

  After grabbing his own towel he shamelessly flexed while rubbing it over his arms and chest. His dick was admirable in any state, currently hanging halfway down his thigh. He could have sworn her pupils dilated as they stared in
that general area. When he was fairly dry he wrapped his towel around his waist and turned to give her a raised eyebrow.

  “Are you going to ogle me all night or dry yourself off? I like it when a girl is wet, but this isn’t exactly what I mean.”

  The look on her face when she realized that she had spent this entire time watching while he was drying off was priceless. A warm glow finally came to her skin when she realized how obvious she had been.

  Now it was his turn to do the ogling.

  Bonita had frankly been in awe. It was one thing to see his body through a fog of steam. Watching him towel off, those muscles rippling and stretching, was something else entirely. In a few moments that body would be pressed against hers…inside of hers. This time her shivering wasn’t because of the cooler air.

  Now, he had the towel around his waist, which was oddly even more arousing.

  “Here, let me,” he said taking the towel from her. His eyes looked straight into hers as he began with her shoulders, gently patting them dry with the towel that was still damp from her hair.

  Her breath caught when he grazed the towel lightly over her breasts. It was the only time his eyes left hers, as he inspected the results of his caresses; her nipples turning into hard points. As the hand with the towel moved to her stomach in wide sweeping circles, his eyes came back to hers. He pressed up against her, causing a surprised squeak to escape her lips. His other hand reached around to grab one edge of the towel and he pulled back with a grin. He began moving the towel back and forth against her back side.

  “River!” she laughed, enjoying the sudden bit of comedy in this erotic drama.

  “What, isn’t this how everyone cleans their back?” he said, joining her in laughter.

  Just as suddenly, one hand dropped the towel it was holding and he came to his knees. Her breathing became heavier as he looked up at her with those green eyes blazing again. They didn’t so much as waiver as he slid the towel around her behind and down one outer thigh. The other hand slid along the inner thigh, following the first hand down, then back up again.

  Bonita held her breath as his hand went higher and higher until it reached the barrier. His face was inches away from her right breast and he looked up at her as his fingers gradually threaded their way between the tangle of curls. He lightly kissed the side of it, still looking up at her.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked.

  As if to punctuate the question, his fingers slipped through the folds of her lips, finding the one part of her body that certainly wouldn’t be dry anytime tonight.

  She nodded her acquiescence.

  His tongue came out and made lazy circles around the peak of her nipple, corkscrewing its way from the edge of her shrunken areola to the tiny sensitive spot at the end. He flicked it like a hummingbird’s wing, his eyes still focused on hers.

  All the while, his hands went to work, one drying off her legs, the other exploring the uncharted territory. She felt his strong fingers trace the slick inner lining, occasionally taking a detour around the tiny nub near the front.

  She gasped in response, biting her bottom lip almost to the point of breaking the skin as she kept herself from moaning out loud. The dual points of pleasure being stimulated this way came together in a crash right at her core.

  “Say it,” he ordered, pulling his mouth away.

  “Yes,” she breathed, “I want this.”

  23

  River stood up and placed the towel he’d been using on her back on the rack, followed by his own. Then he took her hand and led her to his bedroom. She quickly grabbed her glasses and dexterously put them back on her face with the other hand.

  Bonita followed silently. He could feel the slight tremor in her hand, the heavier breathing, the slowness of her pace, all telling him that the nervousness was setting in again.

  He knew exactly how to rectify that.

  The surprising thing—perhaps not so surprising in retrospect—about inadvertently transforming himself into a prototypical bad boy, complete with the body to show for it, was how easily girls made themselves available. The rumors about his suspension at Gascony had paved the way. The summer rebuilding his body had lured them in like the Pied Piper. At first, River had indulged like a kid in a candy store, gobbling his way through every flavor that Gascony (mostly vanilla) and later Pierre (delightfully varied) had to offer. And much like a kid given free rein in a candy store, he’d eventually gotten sick of it. It was probably why he’d never given in to Tiffany’s advances.

  All the same, after the first phase of awkward fumbling, to now, when he knew how to make the female body sing, he had learned a lot. Bonita certainly wasn’t his first virgin, thankfully.

  “On the bed,” he gently urged.

  She looked at him and swallowed, but did as he said, crawling on her hands and knees toward the headboard. Bonita knelt on her knees, her arms across her breasts.

  “You don’t have to be nervous,” he assured her. “I’ll be gentle and I won’t do anything you don’t want to.”

  “I know,” she said quietly. “I just…I just want to go slowly.”

  He saw her eyes linger over his body and realized it must look intimidating, the things he could do to her with it. It probably didn’t help that his need was already starting to visibly grow again.

  River knelt down on the bed and slowly made his way over to her, cautiously, the way one would approach a scared rabbit. Her lashes blinked rapidly at him.

  He leaned on the headboard next to her and reached out to stroke her arm reassuringly.

  “I fully plan on going slowly,” he said. “But you need to relax, Bonita. Otherwise it’s no fun,” he chuckled.

  That got a tiny smile from her and her arms relaxed a bit.

  “Lie down,” he said, winking. “I promise it will be worth it.”

  She gave him one last look and then followed his command, shifting her body so that she was prone beside him, her head on his pillow.

  Bonita felt like an idiot, a stupid, immature, idiot. She might as well have been 12 years old again, stumbling through her first French kiss with Dion Seales behind the handball court. Actually, this was worse, at least then she’d been a bit more gung-ho about things.

  Perhaps it was just being here, in his bedroom, on his bed, River’s naked body standing before her like some Greek god. It all hit her at once: she was really doing this.

  It was only when he’d crawled over to comfort her that her defenses came down. Now she absorbed the familiar reassurance she had being near him.

  She watched as he made his way down to the bottom of the bed. He took hold of one leg and spread it open, crawling between it and the other one.

  Already?!

  “No, not yet—!”

  “Hush,” he said. “I’m not going there just yet. You need some serious foreplay,” he added with a light laugh.

  She relaxed only a little as he spread her legs further apart. The air hit her wetness immediately making her fully aware that she was completely exposed to him. She caught her breath at the prospect. It was so erotic, so…sinful.

  “That’s better,” he said.

  Once again she held her breath as he bent forward between her legs. She felt completely vulnerable, but strangely comfortable all the same. It helped that River had taken control of things and obviously knew what he was doing.

  “God, do you even know how beautiful you are?” he mused as he crept forward.

  She jumped a bit as his first kiss grazed her inner thigh. He chuckled against her skin and she immediately felt silly. A deep breath passed her lips and she closed her eyes, letting her body relax. If this was going to be her first time, she wanted to at least enjoy some of it.

  River lightly kissed his way to the awaiting oasis.

  “You taste—”

  Kiss.

  “—and smell—”

  Kiss.

  “—so fucking—”

  Kiss

  “—amazi
ng.”

  Bonita smiled into the blindness behind her lids, picturing that wicked grin on his face as he drew closer and closer. She couldn’t help it when her body spasmed as his lips made the first kiss, his tongue darting between her own lips for the initial taste.

  She was tense at first, feeling him explore every part of her with his mouth. Then he hit the mother lode and a different sort of spasm racked her body.

  “Oh...oh, River!” she cried as his lips gently puckered around her clitoris and his tongue went to work playing some magical tune that sent a falsetto rushing through her body. Her legs simultaneously turned to jelly and stiffened, pressing hard against the sides of his face.

  River just groaned in response, eagerly feasting away at the delicacy she offered. One hand stayed firmly gripped around one thigh, making sure she didn’t inadvertently close up shop before he was satisfied. The other crept along her body, seeking out other delights. She felt his hand cover one breast, gripping it in his frenzy. Her hand covered his, encouraging him to squeeze harder.

  The first earth shattering orgasm raged through her and her hands flew down to his head, gripping for dear life. Her glasses slid up toward her forehead as her body arched hard against the bed. She bucked against his face and he sunk in, his mouth simultaneously torturing and pleasuring her. Her fingers inadvertently gripped harder, grabbing his hair.

  “I’m sorry!” she cried as she came down, quickly unclenching her hands when she realized that she had very nearly ripped his hair out. All those late nights under her covers using her hand became a distant memory. She would never recover from this.

  He pulled himself up and grinned at her. “You use me however you want, Pretty,” he murmured against her pelvis.

  She laughed as a flash of hysteria went through her, realizing that what was happening was indeed happening. She was completely naked on a boy’s bed, not just any boy, but River Wright.

  River gave his own small laugh before submerging himself once again. This time his tongue delved lower. Bonita braced herself. Still, her lashes fluttered toward the ceiling, a soft sigh escaping her, as it prodded the entrance that was soon to be properly conquered.