by Emilia Finn
My dick seeps into my pants. I’m getting myself off by getting her off, so I grind against the pillows beneath my hips, and the more I pleasure myself, and my groans turn into a vibration, the more she groans as my lips massage her clit.
“Jesus, Ben!” Her clit is like a live wire, pulsing with electricity and drawing us both closer to the edge. “Maybe do two fingers?” she whimpers. “I’m gonna come.”
I pull my mouth away, press two fingers to her moist opening, and bite my groan when I push them in and she cries out. Her walls flutter and clamp in a pattern exclusively hers that makes me dream of it being wrapped around my dick.
Flutter. Clamp. Flutter. Clamp.
My hips turn wild as I ride my own pleasure, and every single brain cell I possess now condemns the idiot from five minutes ago that said no to what could have been the very best moment of my entire life.
“Evie… fuck.” My hips still move as though I’m truly inside her. “Jesus.”
“Come up here.” She grabs my face and yanks me up so my chest flops onto hers, and my denim-covered dick presses against her pulsing core. “Take your jeans off, Ben.”
“What?” Her command, what she intends me to do, douses me like a bucket of icy water. “No, it’s not–”
“Yes.” She reaches down and unsnaps my jeans with quick movements. Using her feet, she kicks the denim over my hips, and with her hands, she shoves my shirt up and off, drawing freezing air into our little cocoon with her jerky movements. “I want to make love to you, Ben.” Her eyes meet mine. “I’m begging you not to say no.”
“Evie…” I clamp my eyes shut and press my forehead to her chest. “I can’t. I purposely didn’t bring a condom, because I didn’t want to be suckered into this situation. This…” I look around us. “In the back of a fucking truck… that’s not how this is supposed to go.”
“Sure it is. Our first kiss was outside. The first time I touched your dick was outside. The first time your tongue… ya know…” Her cheeks turn a beautiful shade of red. “It’s actually kind of the logical thing to do to finish that circle.”
“I will not make love to you without protection. There’s nothing you can say or do that would convince me to risk your future like that.”
“Oh, I brought a condom.” Laughing, she reaches out for her jeans, and produces a foil packet with a wicked grin. She shoves it in my face, and turns serious. “I knew you wouldn’t bring one, because you’re way too in control of your world to risk that temptation. And I knew I would want you, because I pride myself on spontaneity and making wild decisions.”
“You’re gonna kill us both.”
“Maybe. But at least we’ll go together.”
She kicks my jeans right down to my ankles, and tears the condom open with her teeth.
When the taste of lube hits her tongue, she wrinkles her nose and attempts to spit out the flavor. “What the hell is that? That’s gross.”
Laughing, I grab the rubber from her shaking hands and close my fist around it. “We don’t have to do this, Evie. I can help you finish the other way. Let me taste you some more.”
“I want this,” she pleads. Her eyes sparkle with unshed tears, emotion so close to the surface, when she rarely allows herself to be so vulnerable. “Please do this. Don’t send me back to school all alone with this.”
“Eve…” I drop my eyes, but my hands go to my dick. I’m powerless. I can’t stop this. “You’re my Eve. And you’re too much temptation.” I roll the rubber over my length, and can’t stop the way my breath catches, because I’m desperate for contact. “This is so bad.”
“It’s right.” She draws my face up when I finish rolling and, pulling me toward her, she kisses me and replaces the taste of lube with her own unique flavor.
She’s shocked by it at first, wary as she tries to decide if she’s grossed out or not. But then the tip of my dick touches her pulsing core, and everything is forgotten except for the act we both so desperately want.
“It’s okay.” Her eyes meet mine in the darkness. The bright blue orbs, sparkling but sure. She opens her legs wider, wraps them around my hips, and when I don’t make the move, she slowly strengthens her leg grip and pulls me in.
The first thing I notice is how hot she is. It’s like a fiery inferno, a scalding bath that makes way to a brick wall. She’s so tight, it almost hurts me.
She starts out with soft mewling, pleasure-filled breaths, but that turns to a sharp inhale and a squeak of pain.
I want to run away. I want to get off of her, because she’s hurting, and it’s directly because of me. But I can’t walk away now. I can’t let go, and though she’s in pain, she makes the decision for us both and continues to draw me in.
Her thighs are strong. Not so strong that I couldn’t fight my way out, but strong enough that I know she’s purposely drawing me in. Her breath is short and sharp, but her hips move, they roll and aid in making room for me.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper when she grunts in pain. “I’m so sorry, Evie.”
“It’s okay.” She brings her lips back to mine and sends me wild when her tongue lashes out and glides over mine. “It’s okay, Ben. This is right.”
“It’s unforgivable,” I lecture myself. “This can never be undone. This is the only time you’ll have a first, and I’m taking it for myself.”
“It’s your first time too,” she croons. She meets my eyes and smiles. “I’m taking that for myself, and I’m not sorry.”
“One last bit, okay?” I can feel the final stretch, the final barrier before I’m all the way in. “Are you ready?”
She nods and scrunches her eyes closed. She knows it’s going to hurt, but she tells me yes anyway, and barely lets out a muffled gasp when I press all the way in.
Her chest lifts and falls with fast breaths, and because I’m all the way in, she loosens her legs and lets them relax. “It’s…” She pauses with heaving breaths, as though to take stock. “It’s not so bad. But I think I went a little dry.”
“Pain will do that.” I lick the pad of my thumb, then bring it down between us to circle her clit.
As soon as I touch her, she’s reminded of what feels good. Her thighs tense, and her hips jump high. Slowly, I begin rolling my hips and working her back up to what feels good for her.
Everything feels good for me, so to stop myself from exploding too soon, I concentrate on her. On the slickness she creates, on the way her breathing relaxes, and then comes faster again as we move together.
What was pain in her eyes turns into something else, something much hungrier, until, confident now, she pulls me back down so our lips fuse together, and our bodies finally find a rhythm that sends us both to the brink of pleasure.
“Is this good?” I pant. Our hot breath mingles beneath the blankets so we create an almost sauna. “Does it hurt?”
“No.” She shakes her head and reaches down to hold my hips. Her legs are lean and strong, and her grip like steel as she positions herself the way she needs me.
I’m clumsy in my movements. I’m concentrating so hard on not blowing, that I hold my breath and send myself dizzy. But she doesn’t mock my inability to last.
I pull back to give us a little space, and when her walls flutter and squeeze, I use my thumb and circle her clit until she mewls. “Do you think you can come?” I feather my lips over hers. “I need you to come this first time.”
She escapes my lips to draw in a heady breath. Her teeth come to my neck, her lips cruising over my skin until she decides on her spot and clamps down until I throw my head back and roar.
“Fuck!”
“Keep doing that,” she whimpers. “Fast, then slow. Fast, then deep.”
“Okay.”
I follow her instructions and come closer to the edge. Her walls become tighter, they pulse and show me that I’m doing something right, and when I lower back down and drape my body over hers, I swear actual tears fill my eyes when my orgasm demands to be set free.
; “Okay.” Her word comes out on a cry. “It’s right– oh god, it’s right there.”
“Go, Evie. You can come.”
I try to follow her instructions – fast, then slow. I do my damnedest to hold myself back, but when she cries out and throws her head back to expose her delicate throat, I latch on and let myself step over the ledge.
“Oh, fuckkkkk.”
Evie
The Truth Must Be Told
We lay in the bed of Ben’s truck for hours. My toes, fingers, and nose turn cold, even under the blankets and draped beneath his heavy body, and yet, we stay until ten minutes before curfew.
“I don’t want to leave.” I lay on Ben’s shoulder, and run my fingertips over his stomach. “I don’t want to go back to the real world.”
“Me neither.” His hand plays with a long strand of my hair. Twisting it. Twirling it. I smile when he smells it. “I don’t ever want to go home, because you won’t be coming with me.”
“It sucks being this young,” I murmur. Angling my head so I can look up at him, I study his strong jaw and let my lips drop into a pout. “If we were twenty-five, we could go back to our house and be in bed together. No one would say a thing about it.”
“Instead, you get snow, frozen toes, and a shitty drop-off.”
“Will you call me when you get home?” I press my lips to his chest and sigh. “We can still talk until we sleep, right?”
“Of course. I can’t sleep without you anymore, remember? I’m the creep.”
I laugh, though it’s forced and fake. “Time is it?”
He reaches around and peeks at his phone. “It’s time for a beatdown of epic proportions if I don’t get your ass home in seven minutes.”
“Damn.” I let out a long sigh, and when I’ve regained a little energy, I sit up and peek outside of the blanket cubby we’ve made. The town below has switched off more lights, and the snow has begun drifting down in a light powder. Not enough to soak through our blankets, but it will be if we stay any longer. “Time to face the real world.”
“I hate the real world,” he grumbles. Searching through our pile of clothes, his skin breaks out in goosebumps because of the breeze, but he finds my shirt and helps me slide it on. He doesn’t just toss it at me and continue getting dressed. He actively turns and helps bring it over my head, and when it’s on, he passes over my sweater, and drops a kiss on my cheek as I shrug into it. “Are you okay? Need to talk about anything?”
I chuckle. “Your concern about my mental health as far as sex goes is chivalrous, for sure. But I’m okay.” I snatch up my jeans and try to shimmy into them while remaining under the bulk of the blankets. “Everything is okay, Ben. You committed no crimes today, legally or ethically.”
“I think you’re wrong on both counts,” he drawls. “You’re underage. I am not.”
“Oh, please.” I roll my eyes and begin pulling on my shoes. “There are laws that say a seventeen-year-old and an eighteen-year-old are allowed. You’re not going to jail today.” I tie my laces, and watch him as he dresses. “I don’t regret what we did,” I whisper and press a gentle kiss to the ball of his shoulder. He stops dressing, meets my eyes, and after a long moment, shrugs off the anxiety I know has settled in his stomach.
He thinks he’s done something unforgiveable. But all he’s done is cement our love.
That’s not wrong in any state, nor in any day or time.
“Are you okay?” I tease. “Do you need to speak to someone? I might know a therapist that could see you.”
He scoffs. “No, I’m good. I don’t regret what we did either.”
When he’s finished dressing, he hurries across the bed of the truck and begins blowing out the candles that have survived. He collects the jars, tosses the Tupperware into the basket, and when he’s done, jumps off the bed, races into the cab, and switches on the engine.
I know he’s getting the heater running for me, because that’s who he is. He’s a caretaker.
He closes the little window at the back, then the door as he comes back to me. With a gentle tug, he lowers the blankets from around me until I realize how much they were truly insulating us. Goosebumps break out from the tips of my ears right down to my toes, but he pulls me to the edge and wraps his arms around my torso until I regain some of that warmth.
“Love you.”
I smile. “Love you too.”
“Come on.” He draws me to my feet and toward the cab of the truck, then he helps me up. He closes the door, despite the fact he could climb in after me, but he runs to the back and tidies up. He brings the canvas back over the bed – God forbid my parents find his little nest of pillows and blankets – then he dives into the cab amid shivers and shaking limbs. “So fucking cold out there.”
Laughing, I wait for him to fasten his belt, then I scoot in close and wrap my arms around his. He has to change gears and drive with me wrapped around his one arm, but he has never complained. Not once in the whole time he’s been driving me around.
The clock on his dash reads 10:56, which means we’re already late. It will only be by two or three minutes, but late is late, and as we wind our way back down the hill and across town, his body tightens the closer we come to my home.
“It’s gonna be okay, Sasquatch. You need to relax.”
“They’re going to kill me.”
“No, they’re not. My family actually kinda loves you.”
“They loved me,” he corrects. “But I will forever be the guy that…” he clears his throat. “Deflowered their little girl.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not a little girl anymore. And by that logic, I should be afraid of your mom, right? I took your only first, and now she’ll probably kill me.”
“Honestly?” He smiles as we slow outside my estate’s gates. “Yeah, my mom is probably gonna run you down in the street. Nobody fucks with her baby boy.”
I laugh as the gates slide open and reveal Ben’s Green Mile. The porch lights remain on. Every. Single. One. Because everyone will know I was on a date tonight. Our only saving grace is the weather; if it was summer, they’d all be sitting outside waiting for us.
Ben pulls into my driveway and cuts the engine, and as soon as the lights are out, my front door opens, and Biggie stares at us through the windshield.
“He knows.”
“He doesn’t know.” I lean in and press a kiss to his cheek. It’s the most Biggie will be able to handle before he rips the doors off the truck like a real-life Jaws of Life. Leaning back, I smile. “Call me in a bit. We’ll go to sleep together. “
“Okay.” He wants to lean in and kiss me for real. He wants a million things, but none are things he can have tonight. “Send out an SOS if they ground you for life or whatever.”
“If they ground me for life, that means I can’t go back to college.” I tilt my head to the side and pout. “What a shame.”
He laughs and unsnaps my belt. “Get out before he kills us both.” He leans across me and pushes the passenger door open, and when I do as I’m told, I’m certain sadness plays over his features. “Goodnight.”
“Night.” I slide out of the truck, and hiss when my numb feet hit the concrete driveway. It’s too damn cold for this shit.
Walking away from Ben with nothing more than a wave and the peace sign with my fingers in the air, I stomp up the porch steps and meet Biggie at the front door.
“You’re late.”
“I’m sorry. We got caught in traffic.”
He lifts a brow that screams LIAR! There’s never traffic in this town. I’m not sure there’s ever been a traffic jam, not even during weddings or funerals.
“I’m sorry, Biggie. I was having a nice time, and I didn’t wanna leave.”
“Everything is fine?” His eyes come up as Ben’s old truck rumbles out of the driveway. When the gates close and lock him out, Biggie’s eyes come back to mine. “He treat you well?”
“Yes. We had a picnic; cold pizza and fake champagne.”
“F
ake?” He lifts a brow. “Swear?”
“Swear. It was bubbly juice. Nobody drank a single drop of anything alcoholic. I promise.” I close the space between us, because I know he’s too scared to do it. He feels like things are changing, but they’re not. Not in the way he thinks. He’ll always be my first boyfriend. Even when we’re all old and gray, he’ll get equal handholding rights in the old folks home. “I had a nice time. Ben was a gentleman, and now I’m home and safe.”
He pulls back a couple inches and studies my eyes in search of lies. “Alright.” He steps back, but wraps his hand around mine and tugs me through the door. “Come inside. It’s freezing out tonight.”
My house is wound down. My sisters are asleep, and though the TV flickers in the living room, the lights are out. Mom sits in Biggie’s recliner in tiny sleeping shorts and ugly socks, but when he heads toward her, picks her up, and dumps her back in his lap, I lean against the doorjamb and smile.
This is how I grew up; watching their love. I swore I would settle for nothing less, and when my mom snuggles into his chest, I nod as though confirming I found the exact right man.
Ben is as attentive as Biggie. He’s as loving, as caring, as protective. He’s the exact right fit for me, and it was because of this example I’ve always known to accept nothing less.
“You have a nice time?” Mom snuggles into Biggie’s chest, sleepy, but attentive enough to stare right into my damn soul. “Did he make you smile?”
I nod. “He really did. I smile all the time when Ben’s around.”
Her eyes sparkle. “That’s a good sign. You heading up to bed now?”
Again, I nod. “I’m training tomorrow, so I’d better get some sleep.”
“You got lazy the last three months,” Biggie grumbles. “Time to make you puke.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn away and tap the doorframe as I go. “Goodnight. I love you guys.”
“We love you too, honey.”
Biggie’s gruff voice follows me all the way into the next room and then up the stairs. The TV is un-paused, and the flickering lights fill the bottom half of my home. Thankfully, I don’t share a room here, so I head through my door and strip my sweater off before I melt from the heat. I kick my shoes off and toss my socks onto the floor the way my mom hates, and smile while I’m doing it, because the fact she’s here to hate it means I’m home, and home makes me happy.
