The taxi took us through the commotion of the city until we hit the sprawling countryside leading to Brandt’s house. The long drive made me eager to see what it looked like. He pointed out the window, showing me the scenery as we went by and with each new site my anticipation grew. I watched him just as intently. The excitement on his face made his eyes sparkle and I knew he was happy I was here with him.
We met three weeks ago when his concert tour took him to Green Bay, Wisconsin. It wasn’t ‘love at first sight,’ and we struggled so much to get where we were now. We were polar opposites. I was the quiet introvert and Brandt the lead singer in an up-and-coming band, Social Offender. The popularity of his band would only increase once they recorded their second album and went back to touring. Me, well, I was in limbo. I followed my heart with him to California on a wish and a prayer and the quiet voice inside of me wondered if I did the right thing. I would do anything to make this work. If Brandt didn’t feel the same way, I wouldn’t have come. I pushed my feelings of apprehension to the side as I took in his world for the first time.
The taxi turned off the main road onto a more secluded path and I spotted the ocean through the window. I rolled it down, taking in the salty air. I blinked in rapid succession, not believing the sight before my eyes as I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. The ocean was beautiful with its vast and all-encompassing rolling white-capped waves and its bright blue hue. Better than I imagined. I had wanted to see the ocean for such a long time. What better way to see it than with Brandt? He had my hand in his and brought it up, placing a small kiss on the knuckles. It was the little things he did that showed me how much he cared. A kiss on the nose, the feel of his hand on the small of my back, and the caress of his hand on mine. I loved this man and quieted my doubt, knowing I made the right choice.
We turned down a gradual slope and yet another side road before we curved into a driveway. The house materialized before my eyes as we slowed down the long path. Various sized round stones covered the outside bathing it in varicolored gray shades. There were several windows reflecting the late day light, but my eyes were drawn to the regal door that opened to Brandt’s world. Made of deep mahogany wood, it had wrought iron handles, almost medieval-looking, making the house seem like a castle. The flat roof made a similar house impossible to own in the heavy snow of the Wisconsin winters from where I grew up. A circular driveway laid in front of the two-stall garage attached to the house in the same stone facade. Green grass blanketed the sides of the lawn, rolling down to the rocky sides surprising me. My only idea of California was heat and sun so to see such lush grass amazed me. With Brandt being on the road so much, he must have an agency that kept it looking so nice.
Cliffs flank each side of the house but left enough room for a generous beach area. Plenty of rich grassy pasture lay on both sides, and what looked like another huge separate garage to the left and back of the house. The taxi stopped out in front and the driver helped us with our luggage. Brandt paid him while I stared at the grounds in wonder. Better than what I imagined, and we hadn’t even made it in the front door. “Oh Brandt, it is wonderful.”
He laughed, “I can’t wait to show you all of it. Come.” He led me to the front door and opened it with his key. While I walked in, he retrieved our bags.
The large foyer opened to a huge staircase with red-maroon carpeting over the treads. The rich mahogany woodwork on the stairs sharply contrasted the white tile flooring. A formal living room lay on my right with a white brick fireplace that looked like it had never been used. The carpeting and furniture in the area had the same unused appearance; they looked formal but cozy. The motif reminded me of a magazine spread: sterile and uninhabited and I had a hard time picturing him sitting in there and playing his guitar, or well, anything else for that matter. Past the stairway, a hallway shone bright light in the distance from the lowering sun, as if the ocean was beckoning me to it, but I wanted to take in the rest of the house first.
Leaving Brandt in the foyer, I explored the rest of the downstairs. The first room down the hallway was a dining room. When I opened the door the chamber matched the coloring of the rest of the house; beige walls above a chair rail and the same crimson red color decorated the wall underneath it. The table, buffet, and hutch all had the same rich dark mahogany color as well. The formal dining area looked just as unused as the formal living room. Even though it was elegant and beautiful, it didn’t seem much like Brandt at all.
Walking through the swinging door to the left, I embarked upon the kitchen. Once inside, I was pulled to two huge patio doors with an amazing view of the ocean. Before I even had time to open the door all the way, the salty ocean smell greeted me, and I took it in. A large deck, the full expanse of the back of the house, had been equipped with an impressive swimming pool, but I ignored it as I walked to the far end, mesmerized by the crashing of the waves beyond. Cliffs enclosed his land on both sides, adding to the blue of the ocean. The water was far enough back to allow for a long stretch of beach. I watched the waves hit the rocks and could almost imagine the sea spray on my face. I had waited so long to see it that tears formed in my eyes. My own religious values were at war inside me but these moments made me think if God’s wonder.
Brandt came and stood close behind me. “I thought you would be out here. This is one of my favorite places. Better than the ocean on the east coast but not by much. I want to take you there too. You should experience both.”
I leaned back into him. “I would like that very much.” We spent a little time looking before he urged me back inside to show me the rest of the house.
Returning to the kitchen, I noticed the latest gadgets adorning the countertops. The kitchen appeared small in size as opposed to the rest of the house, but really, how much did Brandt need? He was not a gourmet cook by any means. The sterility of the kitchen lacked his sense of personality as much as the other two rooms I had seen so far. Stools flanked a peninsula that jutted from the main cabinets and looked as though it may have been where most of his meals were eaten, as opposed to the small corner table to the left of the doors.
Pointing to a door off the kitchen, he smiled and nodded grabbing my hand. “Do you prefer blue or red?”
I looked at him with a confused smile on my face. “What do you mean?”
“Do you prefer blue or red?” He opened the door and turned on the light to a two-stall garage.
“I guess blue.”
“Good, I will take the red one then.” Not sure what he meant at first, I saw him point to two convertibles the exact same make and model. One blue, one red. They were sports cars but because I wasn’t a car person, I couldn’t tell what kind although they looked expensive.
“I bought them before I went on tour. I couldn’t decide between the two colors, so I took them both. You can have the blue one.”
“You bought two cars at the same time? Wait, you are giving me a car?” The thought stunned me as well as overwhelmed me. How much money does a person need to accumulate to buy two cars on a whim? I couldn’t take his car. Just thinking about driving such an expensive car, especially when I couldn’t even tell you where on a map I was, gave me hives. Some people could fall out of a plane and know where they were. Me? I could get lost anywhere. A brand-new sports car? No, it made me too nervous. “Brandt, I can’t take one of your cars. No... I couldn’t.”
He looked a little put out by this, “Fine you can borrow it.” When he saw my continued hesitation, he added, “Chelsea, you will need something to drive while you are here.” It was true, but a brand-new sports car? I conceded, knowing he would not back down and I did need something to drive. “Good. Let me show you the rest of the house.”
Walking out of the kitchen and down another hallway to the right, Brandt opened a door, showing me a large bathroom, mostly beige with maroon thrown in. I wondered if the color pallet was his or from the previous owners, but I was too enthralled to ask. The layout of the house looked amazing but dated and, in a way, making me think it wasn’t necessarily his style as he seemed less elegant and more down to earth.
On the right of the hall, the door opened to a home office that had custom-made floor-to-ceiling bookcases on both sides of the room. They were mostly bare, but as a lover of reading, my head spun with the thought of what I could put on them. The desk on the far end of the room was the same deep mahogany throughout the house, and sunshine rained down from two large windows on each side of the desk, also showing the gorgeous view of the ocean. Looking at the picturesque sight would have ensured no work would get done in here by me at least.
Brandt brought me back down the hallway towards the other end of the house and into a family room akin more to Brandt’s style. It had a moderately sized sunken area with a huge stone fireplace in the corner and a large screen TV and comfortable leather seating. We didn’t watch much TV when we were in Wisconsin, but we were doing other things too. I blushed a little thinking of it.
The open area to the right had floor to ceiling windows flanking french doors brightened by the receding sunlight. Stark white tile flooring shone so much it created a mirror of the baby grand piano on it. “Do you play?” I had only seen him play his guitar making me feel there was still so much I didn’t know about him. I went over to the piano and ran my finger along the cool ivory keys.
“Yes. My parents made me take lessons when I was young. I didn’t appreciate it until I got interested in other instruments. It helped to read music, write songs, and beat on the drums occasionally with Ryder.” I smiled thinking of him as a teenager in a band in his parent’s garage, fooling around with Ryder, his best friend, and bandmate.
“Come upstairs,” Taking me by the hand he led me up a wide spiral staircase to the left. Moving reluctantly, I kept trying to peak out at the view as I took one small step at a time. Brandt talked about the house and explained things as we walked around. I vaguely heard him, choosing to concentrate on all his belongings surrounding me to get to know him better.
The hallway had the same kind of carpeting I’d noticed on the front stairway when I first walked in. Brandt opened the door to the right, showing off a home studio. Various foreign gizmos and gadgets littered a glassed-in room against the back wall. Guitars, drums, and other instruments covered the rest of the room. There were no windows, only a few pictures on the wall, some I even recognized; a picture of the band from the magazine, another with the band and Ron, his band manager. I couldn’t help but wonder what Ron’s reaction would be to my arrival in California. He didn’t like the two of us together in Wisconsin, so I doubted he would be pleased with my presence here now. Ron thought I would wreck Brandt’s career not understanding that hurting his livelihood was the furthest thing from my mind. My interests lay in being with the side of the man no one knew, not with the lead singer of a rock band. I planned on staying in the background as much as humanly possible.
Leaving that room to go to another on the same side of the house, I finally saw a glimpse of Brandt in the decor and smiled. This room housed a home gym. Making me remember how he took his physique seriously, choosing to go for a run or a workout at the hotel gym when we were starting out in Wisconsin. Two walls in this room sported large mirrors, reflecting on several pieces of weight equipment and a treadmill. Never much into exercise, I did feel the pressure to workout now knowing I needed to keep up with Brandt.
When I left the gym and went to open the double doors to my left, he interrupted, “That is at the end of my tour.” Instead, he guided me past the main stairway to the rooms on the other end of the hall. There were four bedrooms, only two of them with furniture, and another large full bathroom at this end of the house. With the master bedroom, I counted five bedrooms for one man, incredible.
We made it back to the double doors, and I now had an idea of what was on the other side. Brandt looked at me and raised his eyebrows in quite the gesture before opening the doors, making me laugh. Once opened, the view caught my attention again, displayed in front of me across the room shielded by two French doors. They drew me in, begging me to walk through and visit the ocean. A Juliet balcony looked down over the same breathtaking view I saw from the kitchen. The pool, the deck, was nothing compared to the beach and what lay beyond. The best part of the bedroom was the position of the bed. It would be perfect for lying down and staring out at this amazing view, day after day.
The sunlight situating low over the ocean made me impatient for sunset. I could envision staring out the large doors with Brandt holding me in his arms, and I shivered a little. He waited patiently while I took in the view, and when I looked over at him, he had the most peaceful look on his face making my eyes tear.
He cleared his throat, “There is more to this room than the view, you know.”
I smiled, “I just imagined watching the sunset in your arms.” Warmth covered his face, and he leaned in for a deep, penetrating kiss.
He stopped it first much to my reluctance, “Now let me show you the rest.”
We walked back inside, and I finally noticed the color of the wall the bed leaned against. The bright red color looked so out of place, I fought to conceal my frown. Not wanting to draw attention to it, I kept looking around.
Dark charcoal sheets and a comforter lay on a rich mahogany sleigh bed. Nightstands flanked the large bed, but they all contrasted the blood-red of the wall. Although I wasn’t an interior decorator, I found the color unappealing but still held any comments. He pointed to an open doorway and I walked in realizing the full length of the room behind the wall of the bed housed a walk-in closet. It even had curtained windows in it, lending to natural lighting. Brandt’s clothes covered only half of it, leaving plenty of room for my own. A custom shoe storage system all the way in the back looked just as sparse. Well, I didn’t have to worry about taking over all his space with my measly amount of stuff.
Walking out of the closet, I noticed a large door opposite the bed I didn’t see when the ocean view had been too much of a distraction. Walking the expanse of the room, I opened it to find a large bathroom with a porcelain tub sitting directly in the middle of the room. The jetted tub sat on a platform and it could easily fit two people. A toilet to the right sat opposite two separate sinks and a vanity area in shades of baby blue, a contrast to the bright red wall behind me. A large glassed-in shower stood in the left corner and could easily fit a family a four. In fact, it seemed every room in this house could engulf my tiny bedroom back in Wisconsin, making what I had prior small in comparison.
Brandt grabbed my hand and led me back to the bedroom. “I have been waiting for this moment since I saw you at the airport.” Stooping down, he brushed his lips to mine, and although I hungered for it, I didn’t want to lead him on without being able to finish it.
“Brandt, we can’t.” He didn’t seem to want to stop; his mouth traveled down to kiss my neck. The silk of his lips was a sharp contrast to the roughness of his tongue, and it sent shivers down my spine. Any more of this and I wouldn’t want him to stop. I said it again, but with more conviction, “Brandt we have to stop.”
I pushed him back a little and noticed his confusion, “Don’t you want to?”
“Of course, but I think I really screwed things up. I wanted to... you know... over this past week but it was the week I was supposed to get my...” His look of confusion deepened as I rambled. Talking about any aspects of sex made me uncomfortable. Raised in a religious household, no one talked about it much. My conscious already weighed heavily with the guilt of running off with a man I barely knew. My views weren’t the same views as my parents, but I had made mistakes in the past. Mistakes that cost me dearly. And here I was, moving in with a rockstar after only knowing him for three weeks. He loved me and I loved him, but my prior impulsive choices turned out poorly, and I couldn’t help feeling I might have jumped into this too soon as well. My overactive mind worked extra increasing my nervousness. Anxiety was my friend, and she was a bitch.
“Oh?” Brandt smirked knowing sex talk caused me to blush. I swore some days he tried to bring the conversation to sex just to see how red I could get. I took in a deep breath and let it out stalling the inevitable conversation. Seriously, I’d been intimate with him for three weeks and still had a hard time talking to him about these things.
I started again, “I changed up my birth control to make sure we could... our last week together, and now I am concerned about how safe it might be.”
Brandt looked at me, trying to register what I had been implying. “If you are worried about getting pregnant, I have the answer.” Leaning down, he opened the top drawer of the nightstand beside us displaying a full array of condoms. The staggering amount of colors and brands blew my mind. I couldn’t help but look closer as I pulled a couple out. Lubricated, flavored, ribbed for her pleasure, even a glow in the dark one. “I think that is more for novelty, but we can use another one.” Blushing, I put it back down. This drawer made my old roommate’s condom drawer look like child’s play. “See, no problem.”
He leaned in towards me again, but I stopped him, “Actually, I kind of meant that we can’t do this for another three to five days.” I hoped he got the hint as I really didn’t want to discuss it more than I needed.
Realization dawned on him, “You mean you are on the rag?” Cringing a little at his wording, I hoped he at least he understood my hesitation now. I was sure guys didn’t like to talk about it. Hell, even I had a hard time talking about it.
“Well, then we will just have to fuc... have sex in the shower.” He caught his wording this time around. I knew the difference between fucking and sex, but I felt we had more to our relationship than just being physical with each other.
“Oh, c’mon Chelsea. You can’t think I am going to have you all to myself in my house and not want to... err, make love to you?” I couldn’t help smiling at his change of words. He must have seen my distaste with his dialogue around my period. I smiled at his changing terminology to make me feel better.
He still wanted sex with me? I wasn’t sure. He saw my hesitation. “Hey. You owe me.”
I narrowed my eyes at him while he laughed. “I owe you?”
Smiling, he continued, “Yes. We were supposed to have one last night together in Wisconsin, but you took off on me.”
“Well, without that time to think, I might not be here.”
He didn’t stop cajoling me, “Fair enough but I can’t help wanting to be with you now. As it is, I plan on christening every room in this house with you.” Every room? The thought made it harder to say no to him now.
Since I’d never had sex while menstruating, I didn’t know what to expect but, in all honesty, I had never had this much sex period. I wanted to. I wanted him but wondered how messy it would be even in the shower. It was certainly big enough. Being so naïve, I hated my lack of adventure, sometimes wishing I wasn’t so sheltered.
Brandt saw my resolve crumbling. “I promise it will be fun for both of us.” He returned to kissing my neck, the spot on the concave part where my neck met my collarbone. The spot he knew drove me wild.
“I guess I might be able to let you have all the pleasure.”
He looked at me confused. “I do plan on this being mutual.”
Puzzled, I countered, “Brandt, I can’t... I am...”
Mercilessly, he didn’t let me finish finding the right words. “You can orgasm while you are on the rag, you know.” I winced a little, and he shook his head. “Chelsea, I fully intend on guaranteeing a heightened response to our lovemaking.” He changed the pitch of his voice to sounded like a game show host making fun of our situation.
He laughed, and his voice returned to normal. “Chelsea, I am serious. You can still have an orgasm on your period. And, it is also good for cramps.” How did he know this? How did he know anything about my body? His past experiences, I guessed. The ones we didn’t talk about. The ones I didn’t want to know about.
When his lips returned to my neck, I gave up making any rational decision. The longer he worked on my neck, the more I thought he could talk me into it, but then my thoughts went to what he said earlier. I changed my birth control pills to have sex with him without the interruption of my period. Even though I was only spotting, maybe with me screwing up my schedule, I really could get pregnant. The thought scared me. A whirlwind romance and relocating across the United States wouldn’t exactly set up a stable environment for a child. I went down that road once before with an unintended pregnancy, one that ended in miscarriage, and the pain of that loss still lingered. Both the loss of a child and the impulsive decisions caused me to close myself off from any happiness. Well, until Brandt.
But then I thought of Brandt and how much I loved him. That couldn’t be a mistake.
“Okay.” I went to the drawer.
“Chelsea, we don’t need that if we will be in the shower.” I looked at him, perplexed.
He smirked, “You know, the pump and dump?” More confusion showed on my face. “The pull and pray?” When I still didn’t understand, he further explained, “The coitus interruptus?” Blushing, I laughed, thinking I finally got it. He would pull out in the shower.
Brandt threw his arms around me and laughed at my expense. But I thought back to my high school health class and remembered them cautioning against pulling out as a bad way of preventing pregnancy. Looking at him sheepishly, I confessed, “I would feel better this way.”
When I held up the condom, he rolled his eyes, “Oh all right.”
Smiling my pleasure, I tried to make him feel better, “Besides I want to try the ribbed one.” His eyes went dark as he groaned, slamming his mouth on mine before quickly pushing me towards the bathroom.
Watching that fine ass of hers move under her tight pants, I almost ran into the bathroom door as she shut it in my face, “Hey!”
From behind the bathroom door, I heard her say, “Ah... I need you to wait outside for a bit. I need to, um, get ready first. Don’t come in until I tell you.” Rolling my eyes, I sighed as I leaned against the door, waiting for her to let me into my bathroom.
Quirks. Chelsea was full of them and I should have been used to it. “I lived with a woman before. I have seen it all.” Inwardly I winced at my comment. Way to remind her I lived with another woman for a while, in this same house. I hoped it didn’t kill the mood. With Chelsea, you could never tell. She was an over-thinker, strong-willed but anxious and I needed to remind myself ‘take it slow, Brandt.’
“Well, you haven’t lived with me. Um... all that long yet...” I smiled thinking it would soon change, so I would let her have her moment.
She came to California to be with me, put all her trust in me, and it was a little overwhelming and an ego boost at the same time. I still didn’t want to wake up and find out it was all a dream. Never in my lifetime would I have thought I could fall so fast for a good girl like her. She stumbled into my life and turned it upside down, and I wouldn’t wish it any other way, quirks and all.
Not only was my love life straightening out, but we were heading into our second album, and hopefully a long headlining tour after. The band I started back in New Hampshire had morphed and changed into Social Offender. Leaving with my best friend and drummer, Ryder, and meeting up with Quade and JJ, was the best chance at making all my hard work into a reality. Now, with the band shooting us to stardom and such a special woman by my side, it seemed a little unreal.
Hearing the shower turn on, I got impatient. “Okay. You can come in.” Finally. Opening the door, I found Chelsea under the hot water with the steam fogging the clear glass shower. Her fuzzy silhouette behind the transparent glass caused my dick to thicken. Making my way closer to her, I shed my clothing, throwing them on the floor, not wanting to divert my eyes from her beauty. Even with the hazy edges of her hard body, she looked amazing.
Fully naked and also fully aroused, I made it into the shower, closing the glass door behind me. Chelsea stood in the hot stream of water and captivated me as I watched the ringlets coursing down her perfect curves. The heat of the shower made her porcelain skin red, and the moisture beaded up on her skin. I dropped down on my knees in front of her and drank from the rivulets running down her body like a thirsty man. I licked her taut stomach, and she sucked in her breath, “Brandt.”
There was hesitation in her voice. I chuckled, “Don’t worry, I am not into redwings.”
“Redwings?” My laughter deepened, and her down-turned face burned bright as she figured out the meaning. I loved her innocence as much as I loved corrupting her.
Turning back to her body, I kissed and sucked the moisture off her stomach to her right and left flanks, making her giggle as she ran her fingers through my soaked hair. Rising to a standing position, I took the time to suck on her erect nipples before licking up her neck and jawline. She sucked in her breath, and her nails dug into my shoulders. Chelsea didn’t have the biggest breasts, but she made up for it in responsiveness. Her fingers found purchase in my hair, and she pulled my head away as I tugged on her nipples with ferocity. Mewing sounds rewarded my efforts and reminded me how far we had come in the short time we had known each other.
I was her first. Well, not her first sexual partner but her very first orgasm and although we were still figuring each other out, I loved to discover each day about what gave her pleasure.
The sad excuse for her first boyfriend had hurt her so badly that I almost had no chance with her at all. Luckily, I didn’t give up that easy. I liked to think it paid off for both of us. I had been with several women before Chelsea, but none like her. She turned me on more than anyone I had ever been with, and the thought of satisfying her was more important than even my own outcome.
I followed a stream of water up to her neck with my tongue and sucked on her thready pulse. My hands drifted down to her core to test her to make sure she was ready, but before my finger touched her folds, she made a quick grab for it. “Brandt?”
She looked at me with her bright blue eyes widened. I fought the urge to groan and instead just nodded, “Ah, right.” I had to go slow. There was no way in hell I would take the chance and hurt her.
She let go of my hand and grabbed the condom off the soap rack. I tried to hide my disappointment. I would have preferred pulling out to this, but instead, I would concentrate on getting her a gynecologist appointment as soon as possible. Dr. Hunt, my personal physician, had a wife in the field and I would throw my weight to get it done. Pulling out may not be the best birth control option, but she had been taking her pill the whole time and was just overly cautious. That and the fact she had an amazingly tight pussy caused me to utter a groan as I took the foil packet from her.
“Is it that bad?” I shrugged and tried not to show my displeasure.
“It is just that you feel better raw.”
A look of confusion clouded her face, “Raw?” Her look of confusion turned into another expression of realization. “Oh.” I laughed. She was an angel compared to the devil before her.
“Yeah, well, I am only going to put up with this until I can get you a doctor’s appointment here.”
She shook her head, “But Brandt, I don’t have health insurance here yet.”
It was my turn to shake my head, “My treat. Believe me, this will be my treat.” She laughed and took the condom package from me.
“So, do you think I could put it on you?” The look of curiosity on her face and the thought of her palming my cock made it jump. Yes, I liked her new sense of adventure. Her old boyfriend somehow convinced her she was frigid and slowly I had been working her out of her shell. It hurt me not to push her to the forefront of sexual exploration, but I found if I took my time with her, it paid off in the end.
“I would like that.” She smiled and I watched her fingers fumble with the wet foil before opening it. I showed her the right way to hold the contraceptive, and when she fisted my cock, I growled with pleasure. She had an amazingly strong grip and stroked it before stopping and rolling the condom on. I showed her how to squeeze the reservoir tip when it had fully encased me, and she had the most amazing look of accomplishment on her face. It warmed me. That and the fact I had her luscious body pressed against me. Now all I had to do was get inside her.
“Does it really feel that different?” Now was not the time for a philosophical discussion of the sensory stimulation of my dick but I knew if I didn’t answer her question, she would ruminate on it the whole time we were going at it. I avoided frowning as I thought of the best, and more importantly, the quickest way to explain it to her.
“It still feels good, but it is better without one.” Now, how to describe it to a woman that didn’t have the same anatomy as a man. “Well, you wear pantyhose, right? Have you ever worn pantyhose while outside standing in the grass?”
She looked at me, confused, “No, that would put a hole in them.”
I groaned again. “Hypothetically then. Work with me here. Imagine wearing pantyhose outside and being ready to feel the grass but not being able to feel the way the grass is on your bare skin.”
She stopped and thought about it and then nodded. “Yeah, I think I get it.” Relief poured over me, and I hoped she could free her mind enough to enjoy our latest tryst.
We had shower sex once before, back at the house she rented in Wisconsin. It hadn’t been all that appealing to her. Early in the morning, my blood sugar dipped and I couldn’t hold out as long, finishing a little too early. Low blood sugar with diabetes was nothing to take lightly, and I already had an episode in front of Chelsea that scared the shit out of her. This time, shower sex for her would be nothing but spectacular even if I had to kill myself in the process.
I turned her to face the shower wall, running my hands up and down her front as she braced herself against the warming glass. Kissing her sensitive neck, I slowly took my time entering her from behind. She was tight and wet, and the sensation proved heavenly even with the snakeskin wrapped around my already throbbing cock.
One hand went to pull and cup her breast, and the other traveled down her ribs to her stomach and ended at her clit. She still seemed concerned about a mess, reaching for my hand, but didn’t stop me. When I felt her hand on top of mine as we both circled her receptive nub, I couldn’t help but smile. She confided in me her good girl self had never masturbated before and the thought pulled in both directions in my brain. It would be erotic to watch her flick the bean, but then again, I preferred her bliss to always be by my hand. I needed to be her end-all when it came to her body. It was primitive of me, I knew it, but I wanted to be the one to put a look of pleasure on her face. Always.
Chelsea’s hand left mine and grasped the top of the glass shower as I continued my onslaught of thrusting deep inside her. I was careful not to smash her up against the side but I needed to get as deep as possible into her core. With that in mind, I lifted her right leg and placed it on the shower bench in front of her, opening her more towards me. With every forceful prod of my dick inside her, I heard a soft moaning sound and could feel her body tensing. She was close, and I watched as she closed her eyes although I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand the thought of not watching her unravel in front of me. She had such an erotic look of pleasure on her face that I quickly pulled out and turned her around and pushed her back to the wall of the shower. She uttered a sharp cry of surprise.
Grabbing onto her leg, I opened her back up and plunged back inside her welcoming pussy, slamming into her as far as possible. I needed to stroke up to stimulate her G-spot, and I did it expertly, watching her tense just as much as before. The water sloshed between us and the first workings of her orgasm showed on her body. Her nipples were little stones rubbing against my chest. Breathing in deep gasps, her fingernails dug ever so softly into my neck alerting me to her heightened state.
“Look at me,” I commanded, and she obeyed. Her eyes were only half open and drowsy with ecstasy, but she held my gaze. Wrapping her leg further around me, I let my hand travel up her body and found her sensitive breast. Rolling and tugging at her hard nipple, I waited until the perfect time. When I felt her breath catch, I knew what to do to send her over the edge. Pinching her nipple between my fingers, I put enough pressure on it to awaken her senses. One hard pull and I felt her pussy clamp down on my cock. Her eyes dilated, her mouth opened, and her breathing stopped as she felt it all fully. Her body was internally fisting my cock, and the whole picture pushed me over the top. I thrusted deep into her and filled the condom, grunting my pleasure at her inviting orgasm. Our throbbing continued, ebbing slowly, and we held ourselves together as a lifeline to each other, kissing softly and moaning lightly.
When our breathing caught up to our lungs, I pulled her chin up to peer in my eyes. She smiled, “I take it back. I really do like shower sex.”
A rustle of laughter worked its way up my chest, and I took my time pulling out of her. She stole a glance down, and I followed her gaze, “See no mess.” She lowered her head shyly, and I had to laugh. Oh yes, I was going to love corrupting this good girl.