So Wrong

by Camilla Stevens

  His head came up again. “I’m going to use my fingers, okay? Just tell me when I’ve gone too far.”

  She just nodded, her hands placed flat on the bed beside her, waiting.

  River’s eyes were focused on her face as he gingerly slid one finger inside of her.

  The slick, barely yielding walls informed him that he would indeed be the first to venture past them. He felt his cock twitch with proprietary anticipation. Bonita was his. Her pussy would be permanently etched with the memory of his cock, molded specifically to accommodate him and only him, or at least for as long as she was his.

  And River had no plans of ever giving her a reason not to be.

  He thought of Darryl and struggled to keep his anger in check. Instead, he focused on the gorgeous girl lying in his bed, giving herself to him, and the man became a fading blip on his radar.

  He coaxed another finger in.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She smiled down at him reassuringly, those glasses slipping down her adorable nose. Looking up between her legs along the landscape of her naked body, culminating with that gorgeous face sporting those frames was all the motivation his dick needed for complete resurrection.

  He continued slowly slipping his fingers in and out of her, curving upward at just the right spot. One side of his mouth came up as her body reacted with a slight arch and a moan.

  Atta girl

  “River…I think—I think I’m ready.”

  As River lifted himself up she could see that he too, was ready; more than ready.

  Strangely, she wasn’t nervous any more. Bonita had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn’t his first virgin. Even if she had been, the tenderness with which he had treated her thus far let her know she was in safe hands.

  Still between her legs, he got on all fours, slinking his upper body forward toward her as he looked into her eyes.

  “Condom!” she squeaked, just now thinking about it. That episode in the shower had terrified her. It was a long shot that what had happened would lead to anything, but she certainly wasn’t about to risk it.

  River’s only response was to give her that smirk that made her stomach flutter as he crawled right over her to his nightstand.

  “I’ve got you covered,” he said as he pulled open the drawer and pulled out a small foil square. He quickly ripped it open and pulled out the latex ring.

  He got up on his knees between her legs and once again she marveled at his body. It was like some perfect Roman statue, with its own perfect statue standing perfectly at attention in front of him. River was too busy rolling the condom on to notice the complete and utter awe with which she admired his body.

  Once he was protected, he fell back down on his hands, working himself down until he rested on his elbows. His hard body pressed against hers and it made her want him all the more. She easily spread her legs, bending the knees so that she could fully embrace him.

  “Should I take my glasses off,” she asked, then felt stupid for asking.

  “Abso-fucking-lutely not,” he growled.

  The look he gave her as he focused on her face, those emerald eyes piercing her lenses, created a gushing whirlpool at the entrance he was now guiding his cock toward.

  Bonita gasped as the large head met the much smaller opening.

  This is really happening!

  “Just relax,” he cooed, as if sensing her anxiousness.

  She felt his body rocking slowly into hers, his member pressing, probing….then it broke through.

  Another gasp hit her as her flower disappeared.

  Her eyes grew wide with the mixture of pain and realization of this fact, but were met by the surprisingly calm reassurance in his gaze.

  River smiled down at her. “That wasn’t so bad was it?”

  She smiled back. “No.”

  She gripped his shoulders as he slowly, gently worked his thick hardness deeper into her.

  “Just do what comes naturally, Bonita,” he coaxed.

  So she lifted her head up and met his lips with hers. If she was going to have him, she wanted all of him. She tasted herself on his lips, smelled herself on his face. The memory of the pleasure he’d brought her urged her along.

  Bonita’s thighs slid further up River’s hips, welcoming the unfamiliar feel of him inside of her. The initial pain was subsiding and now she focused on the sensation of having him inside of her, stretching her wide open.

  There was the briefest tremor of pleasure as the head slid along a certain point, going deeper and deeper until he could go no further.

  “There,” he said grinning down at her. “Your cherry has been officially popped.”

  It was such an absurd statement that she laughed.

  He initially gave her a look of confusion then went along with it, laughing as well.

  “So how does it feel?” he asked.

  “Strange,” she mused, one hand coming around his neck to play with the hair at his nape. “But nice.”

  “Just you wait,” he said. With that he began slowly rocking his body such that his cock slid partially out.

  Bonita bit her lip, hissing with the tenderness that was still present.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  “No, it’s good,” she said. “I just need to get used to it.”

  There was a primitive part of her that welcomed the pain, embraced being dominated, penetrated, marked, as though she was officially River’s property.

  “Go on,” she urged, feeling herself getting excited at the prospect. “Fuck me, River.”

  She felt him stop, surprised at her use of language. In response she grabbed ahold of the cheeks—though the firm, hard muscle she met could hardly be labeled “cheeks”—of his backside and pressed them into her.

  “Unhhhh,” she moaned, as he followed her lead, plunging into her again.

  The pain hit her again, his time mixed with the pleasure of knowing he was owning her. It commingled perfectly with the sensation inside of her that hinted at the pleasure she would one day fully enjoy from this act.

  Right now she focused on the strange newness of it all, embracing the sin—or at least it made it more fun to think of it as such—she was indulging in. She smiled, closing her eyes as she felt the muscles underneath her hand contract and relax as his hips slowly worked themselves into a rhythm. He slowly penetrated her over and over, gradually molding her insides such that they fit him perfectly…him and only him.

  She never wanted him to leave her.

  Then the promise that had just been hinted at came to fruition. Now that her body was relaxed, she could embrace it. A subtle shift on River’s part, ever so slightly lifting his torso, and there it was.

  “Oh…oh, yes, yes, River,” she breathed as his strokes stimulated the same spot his fingers had earlier. Her grip on his ass tightened and she closed her eyes.

  “Look at me,” he commanded. “I want to watch you come for the first time.”

  She did, and it was glorious. The waves ran through her like an earthquake, rocking her body util the aftershocks subsided.

  Once her body fully relaxed, she smiled up at him. River’s face looked back with a dark intensity, then his body stiffened on top of her and she understood that he was having his own climax.

  “Oh God, Bonita,” he groaned.

  Something about him having waited until after she had her own orgasm touched a part of her that she couldn’t fully grasp quite yet. Either way it made everything perfect.

  Absolutely perfect.

  24

  “So do you want to tell me about it?” River asked her.

  He was on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Bonita was curled up against his side with her head on his shoulder. River’s fingers were brushing up and down her arm and she snuggled closer to his side, while her fingers traced a path over his chest. Her glasses were on the nightstand now, so everything beyond the bed was a hazy blur.

  She thought about his question. She did want to tell him about it,
at least part of it. There was really no one else she could talk to about Darryl. She certainly didn’t want to give her parents the details of her dinner with him. The Cliff Notes version, where she broke up with him and intended to stay away from him would suffice.

  “You don’t have to, you know,” he followed up during the pause.

  “No, I want to.” She sighed. “It was Darryl.”

  She felt him give a soft chuckle under her head. “I figured that much.”

  She didn’t join him in chuckling, but smiled softly into his chest. “He’s just...so different from what I thought I knew about him. The dinner it was...almost frightening.”

  She shivered as she thought back to his final words. She felt River’s body stiffen slightly underneath her. His hand stopped drawing lazy circles on her arm and instead held it, drawing her closer to him.

  “I think maybe I’ve always known he was like this. It took him all of two weeks to ask me out after my 18th birthday two years ago. Before that he was always around, so any other boy kept their distance.”

  “So you’ve been dating him for two years now?”

  “I suppose you could say that. He was going to Harvard when he asked me out, so it was mostly dinner on the occasional weekend he was down in D.C. Then there were summers of course. We went out a lot more during summer.

  “And in all that time he never tried to...?” River let the question hang.

  “No,” she said finally chuckling. “I think I get it now. I always thought it was because he was such a good guy. Perfect, really. You know, Harvard, then Harvard Law, volunteering. He even did a year with the Peace Corps in Africa.”

  “I thought Peace Corps was a two-year gig,” he interrupted.

  Bonita stopped to think about it then shrugged. “I don’t know. He probably came back early for law school or something.”

  “I’m sorry, I interrupted.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “But I think he waited because a part of him got a kick out of the anticipation. He always assumed we’d end up getting married. I think he enjoyed the fact that I was out there in the world, saving myself for him...for our wedding night.”

  She curled into him again, imagining just what Darryl had in mind. River sensed her disgust and squeezed her arm then bent his head over to kiss her forehead.

  “I think that’s why he let me come to Pierre, like he was testing me or something.”

  “What do you mean, ‘let you?’” River asked sharply.

  She realized she had inadvertently let slip the part of tonight she didn’t want to tell him about. The last thing she wanted was to have another man try to rescue her.

  “Nothing…I didn’t mean it like that,” she quickly said.

  She could tell he didn’t believe her and wanted the whole truth but he left it, not wanting to push her.

  “The point is, I told him it was over. It is over,” she said adamantly, mostly to convince herself. She knew she couldn’t rely on the money for next semester now. In fact she didn’t want to be reliant on it. The thought sickened her. Her father’s church was another issue. But she’d deal with that later, let him have his last Sunday in peace.

  “Darryl is out of my life for good now. I don’t want to ever talk about him again.”

  River chuckled again and hugged her with his one arm. “Fine by me.”

  She joined him in the chuckle this time.

  Bonita was fast asleep. River knew it would be a while before he joined her, if he did at all.

  Her thick hair was still impossibly damp against his shoulder, but the rest of her was warm and soft. It was nice, her smaller body curled up against his larger one. So many girls his age starved their bodies into submission. Bonita’s body flourished in its feminine curves; soft, fertile hills and valleys rounding out the gentle slope of her hips and full breasts.

  Still, something about tonight felt a bit…tainted.

  He was certain she had come here tonight not as some sort of rebound, but because she had really wanted this. All the same there was a cloud hanging over it that River couldn’t shake. He felt the familiar burn grow inside of him, a feeling he had long ago let go of.

  Breathe.

  He knew he was only getting the tip of the iceberg as far as what had happened tonight with Darryl and her history with him. But he had learned enough.

  It made him angry.

  Breathe.

  The last time he had let his rage over take him, he had been young, in high school. Back then his anger had been wild and unfocused. Now he had a target for it.

  He briefly wondered what he would do if Darryl were to approach him on the street. He had an idea of what the old River, or “Riot,” would have done. Now, he was different.

  It had been the work of his older half-brothers to bring him back from the edge he had been about to fall off. Michael had introduced his trainer who taught River how to focus his energy and keep his emotions in check. Ironically, it had been through learning how to fight.

  Alex, his second, older half-brother had opened him up to his passion in life. First it had been the music, from there it was a natural progression to his current endeavors.

  He thought of Darryl one last time, letting the burn die out. No, he wouldn’t mess with the man. It wasn’t worth screwing up what was just beginning with Bonita.

  Bonita’s eyes fluttered open. The sun was slipping through the drawn curtains in tiny , bright slivers across the bed.

  Bright slivers.

  Her eyes snapped open, searching for a clock. There wasn’t one on either nightstand. She didn’t wear a watch and her phone was in her purse in the living room. She reached under the covers for River’s left hand, though her vague memory told her that he didn’t wear a watch either.

  The movement stirred him and he gave her a groggy smile. “Hey, Pretty,” he muttered.

  “What time is it?” she asked in response.

  The corners of his mouth turned down as if to ponder it and he looked over at his nightstand then shrugged.

  Thanks, River; that was helpful.

  She threw the covers off and slid toward the end of the bed. River grabbed her arm, finally coming fully awake.

  “Wait a second, where are you going?”

  “It’s Sunday,” she said, then realized that might not explain it fully. “I have to go to church!”

  He let go of her arm and gave a small laugh. She headed for the living room, not caring about the fact that she was completely naked.

  “Wait, you’re serious?” she heard him yell behind her.

  What part of “pastor’s daughter” did he not get?

  It occurred to her that maybe he didn’t believe in God. That gave her pause, then she focused on retrieving her phone.

  “Ohhhh,” she wailed. “It’s 10:45!”

  River came out to the living room, just as naked as she was. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and grinned. “Bad news?”

  “How in the world did we sleep so late?” she cried.

  “Well, we did get a pretty good workout,” he teased.

  In that moment, she was fully aware of the dull ache between her legs. Then, she was fully aware she was standing there, naked in River’s living room as he looked at her. Then, she was fully aware that he was also standing naked in his living room as she looked at him, despite her best efforts not to.

  She was already aware that church had started 45 minutes ago.

  Something about Reverend Hawthorne leading the call to worship at the same time she stood there buck naked with the boy, also buck naked, who had only 12 hours ago taken her virginity, made her flush with some sort of strange heat.

  Oh Lord, forgive me.

  It wasn’t so much what she was doing that she was concerned about as how it made her feel...sinful. Sinful in a way that made her want to forget church and jump right into bed with River, his face once again between her legs as the choir sang their hymn of praise....

  “Oh Lord, forg
ive me,” she whispered out loud this time.

  River pushed himself off the wall and made his way over to her. She stared in shock as his long penis swung freely with each step, as if happily underlining everything that was wrong with this scenario.

  “Will you stop walking. It’s…distracting,” she complained.

  River stopped in place as if playing a game of freeze tag, one noticeable body part not playing by the rules.

  “Stop being silly,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “You didn’t say Simon Says,” he pointed out.

  “River!” she said, exasperated.

  He just laughed and closed the distance between them. “So you miss one Sunday of church. Is it really that bad? Can’t you just tell them you were sick or something?”

  “Yes, perfect. Lie on top of everything else,” she laughed.

  Actually, she was being ridiculous. If Reverend Hawthorne brought it up, or worse, told her parents she would probably just say she didn’t feel well. She was sure God would forgive her the heart attack she spared them by not telling them the truth.

  As if reading her mind River continued. “See there, don’t you feel better? Now the day is ours.”

  Her eyes flitted up to his. “What?”

  “Come on, you’ve already been bad once; let’s seal the deal,” he said, his eyes wandering over her naked body. Before she could get outraged at what he was suggesting he threw her. “Let me take you to brunch.”

  She blinked at him.

  His eyes shifted up to her hair. “I have to say, that’s the sexiest case of bed head I’ve ever seen. Like a work of modern art.”

  She remembered the shower and groaned. She hadn’t even run her fingers through her natural hair, let alone conditioned and combed it. It probably looked like a rat’s nest, because of course it would.

  “Listen—” she began.

  “Uh-oh…I know that word too well, so I’m going to stop you. You’re probably going to make up some excuse as to why you can’t go to brunch with me; studying, or washing clothes, or maybe even trying to sneak into the back pews at church undetected”—his eyes took one look at her hair as if to say good luck with that—“but I’m going to insist. We had a good time last night didn’t we?” He looked searchingly at her face.