First Time: Ian's Story (First Time (Ian) Book 1) (30 page)

I would have to thank Danny, then, I
supposed. After I gave him another sound cursing out over his
carelessness with the microphone. After the pissing incident, I
would have thought he would have learned his fucking lesson.

I put my hand on Penny’s knee. “So, epidural
or no epidural?”

“
Oh, epidural all the way,”
she laughed. “But that’s a little ways off.”

If this Bahamas job
happens, it will be more than a little way.
There was no reason to ruin our entire Sunday glooming about
that. “Agreed. Right now, we should be focusing all of our efforts
on rehearsing the conception.” I checked my mirrors and changed
lanes. We would have to go to her place so she could grab some
clothes for work the next morning. Even though I already knew the
answer, I asked, “Would you care to do that, right now?”

“
I think that’s a fine
idea.” She dropped her hand on my thigh and walked her fingertips
slowly upward.

It was a good thing I didn’t go to
confession, after all, because in about an hour I would be working
that absolution off, anyway.

Chapter Fifteen

I was used
to coming home from church and finding Penny waiting for me.
Sometimes, she’d be dressed and ready to go out to lunch. Other
times, she’d be naked and waiting in my bed. On an occasion I would
never forget, she’d been in the bathtub, keen to give me
tantalizing flashes of her sudsy skin, making me wait until she was
done with her leisurely bathing.

I’d been on my knees, worshipping her cunt
from the moment the towel had touched her skin.

Coming home today, she was at my side, so I
didn’t know what to expect. The moment the elevator doors closed,
she practically mauled me.

“
Easy now.” I laughed in
shock. “If you want to fuck in an elevator, I have a more private
option upstairs.”

“
I know. I just can’t keep
my hands off you. Don’t complain, just go with it,” she
teased.

When we got inside, she took off her coat
and headed straight to the clock-face window in the living room.
She still did that first thing when she entered the apartment, and
it never failed to charm me how much she admired the view.

“
Wow, it’s really snowing,”
she said, squinting out at all the flurries.

“
Maybe you’ll get snowed
in.” I hung up my coat and joined her by the window. “We could have
a ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ situation on our hands.”

“
I hope you don’t drug my
drink,” she said dryly.

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“
That’s a line from the
song. She’s like, ‘hey, what’s in this drink,’ or something. That
song is disturbing.” She stepped back. “You know what we should
do?”

“
Fly to Miami and escape the
winter while we still can?” I suggested.

She made a face. “I like the snow. I mean,
not this early. But after Thanksgiving, with the lights on
everything and the stores playing holiday music, I really dig the
snow. I was going to say that we should grab a blanket, go up to
the roof, and snuggle.”

“
In the snow?”

“
Not in the snow. You have
that little porch thing.” She pointed up. “Come on, if it’s too
cold and you don’t like it, we can always come back
inside.”

“
Coming inside is exactly
what I wanted to do today,” I said with a suggestive lift of my
eyebrows.

“
Shut up.” She still blushed
beet red at my double entendres. Which was odd, considering that
twelve hours ago I’d had her on all fours in my bed.

“
Fine. I’ll go upstairs and
freeze my bollocks off, all in the name of pleasing you.” I put on
a dramatic sigh.

She rolled her eyes. “I promise I’ll warm
them back up for you.”

We took the duvet from my bed and lugged it
into the elevator with us, then rode up to the solarium. The
flurries of snow had definitely intensified, blowing onto the
covered furniture.

“
This is insane.” I leaned
down to unzip the protective cover over the chaise. I pulled it
off, and Penny, wrapped in the blanket like a greedy traitor, dove
onto the cushions.

“
Could I get in there?” I
asked, tugging at a corner of the duvet.

“
This is way colder than I
expected,” she admitted as we arranged ourselves on the chaise. I
leaned back, and she lay between my legs, her head pillowed by my
chest.

“
I think I mentioned the
cold once or twice.” I lifted a few strands of her hair and let
them fall.

“
It’ll get warm under here
soon.” She pulled the blanket over her shoulder.

“
For you.” I waved my arms
about. “I’m basically just wearing fluffy down
trousers.”

“
Ooh, I didn’t think of
that,” she said, tapping a fingernail against her teeth. “You know
what? I can just pull the blanket over my head—”

She disappeared beneath the duvet, pushing
it up my chest. Her voice drifted up in a muffled, “There, that’s
better, isn’t it?”

Suffocating her was supposed to be better?
“Not really, no.”

I felt a tug at my zipper, and her hand
slipped into my trousers.

“
How about now?”

Her fingers closed around
me, and I said, “Well, that
is
a little better, now that you mention
it.”

Not being able to see what she was doing
under the blanket was almost as thrilling as the fact that we were
nearly in public. Granted, not as public as some venues I’d gotten
adventurous in with partners, and it seemed unlikely to me anyone
would bother spying on us out here, but there was a naughty flavor,
doing it outside. My cock stiffened under the slow, steady stroking
of her hand. A soft, warm breath passed across the head of me, then
her lips, slick with saliva, brushed back and forth over me. I
lifted up in unconscious reflex, and her laugh vibrated against
me.

She drew my foreskin up, covering the head
completely, and licked around the outside before slipping her
tongue in to glide in a lazy swirl.

“
Jesus!” I clenched my hands
to fists while she took me into her mouth fully, sliding me to the
back of her throat. She choked, sending a cascade of saliva down my
shaft, then drew back up, pushing my foreskin up with her fist and
dragging it with her lips. Then she slid down and did the same
thing, again, gagging herself a bit with each repetition. I wasn’t
sure what she got out of that particular move, but the sound
stroked my ego like her hand stroked my cock.

I tipped my head back and let her go,
kneading the sides of the cushion beneath us as she slowly bobbed
her head and swirled her tongue, tugging me with one hand as she
did. Fuck me, but she was fantastic at giving head. There had been
some trial and error the first few times—and I’d been more than
happy to help her experiment—but she was a quick learner.

And speaking of quick, when she pulled me
from her mouth and slid her lips down the underside of my shaft, I
gritted my teeth and counted to ten. I didn’t know what the fuck
was wrong with me these days. I’d had greater stamina when I was
seventeen. With Penny, a simple touch could boost me to the edge; a
deliberate assault, like the one she carried out now, made any
attempt at slowing down futile.

I reached beneath the duvet to put a hand on
her head. “Why don’t you come back up here before I embarrass
myself?”

“
Why should you be
embarrassed?” she asked from the depths of the blanket, but she
released me and rustled her way up. “You always say that. Trust me,
I would be so pleased to make you come too soon.”

“
You’d be pleased? How would
I fuck you?” I leaned up to bracket her ribcage with my hands. Her
legs slipped around me, and the totally bare curve of her bottom
rested on my thighs as she straddled me. My eyes widened in
surprise. “You had panties on when we left the house, didn’t
you?”

Her jaw dropped. “Of course I did!”

That was a relief, although
there would have been something sexy about her going to mass
without underwear on.
Ah, now, I’m going
to have to do penance for that thought, too.

She reached behind her and came up with a
tiny pink pair of panties for proof. I took them from her and held
them to my nose as she squealed and covered her face. “Oh my God,
that’s so gross!”

“
Not at all. You’re one of
my favorite smells.” My breath caught as she ground against me. She
was hot and wet, and it would be far too easy to slide into her.
“We have to go back inside for that. I didn’t come
prepared.”

“
Oh, just this once? Just
for a little bit?” she pleaded.

It’s a bad idea.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth
and rocked her hips. “Just to know what it feels like.”

You could always pull out.

It had been a long time since I’d tried that
trick. I hoped it was like riding a bicycle. “Just as long as
you’re aware that this could have potentially unintended
consequences, up to and including—”

“
I had health class, Ian.”
She rolled her eyes. “You could always just pull out.”

I told you.

“
Well, here’s hoping,” I
said grimly. Was I supposed to be the responsible one here, since I
was the most experienced?
Oh God, she’s so
wet.

I lifted her up, and she reached between us
to adjust our alignment. There was an unpleasant friction, for just
a moment, then she took me in fully, and we both groaned.

She lifted up, her eyes
going wide before they squeezed shut, and she rolled her hips.
“
Fuck
condoms.”

“
Hey, they have their
place.” Not necessarily with fully monogamous couples who didn’t
care to use them, but I felt like I had to defend my old friend,
the prophylactic. “I’ve had some very good times that wouldn’t have
been possible without them.”

She laughed, breathless. “Shut up and just
let me feel this.”

That, I could certainly do. In fact, I
couldn’t do much more. Every ripple and clench that had been muted
by polyurethane before hit my raw nerve endings like a full-out
assault. She rose and fell on her knees, her eyelids fluttering on
every upward stroke. I wished she were naked, so I could run my
hand up her chest, between her breasts, to pull her down by the
back of her neck. I couldn’t do the first bit, but I did sink my
hand into the hair at her nape and pull her firmly down to my lips.
Bent forward as she was, she had little choice other than to
balance above me and let me thrust up, doing the work for both of
us.

She pulled her mouth free. “Get my
zipper.”

“
You’ll freeze to death.” I
nipped at her earlobe.

She squirmed her head away. “I don’t care.
I’m burning up.”

That she was. A slight sheen stood out on
her brow and across the bridge of her nose, and her skin flushed
hot and pink. I found her zipper and pulled it down, and she
wriggled free of the garment, tossing it aside. For a terrifying
second, it caught a draft of cold wind, and though it didn’t come
close to floating over the rail, we both shocked still until the
dress hit the floor. She unfastened her bra from the front and let
it slip from her shoulders, and I pulled the duvet around her
before we began moving together, again.

She reached between us. “That!” she shouted,
slapping my chest. “Don’t stop doing that!”

I didn’t know exactly what she was referring
to, so I didn’t dare deviate from my current stroke. She sat up
straighter, the duvet falling from her shoulders. Leaning back to
support herself on one hand, she rubbed her clit with her
fingertips, her entire body perfectly bare and exposed right there
on the rooftop. Snowflakes still wafted over us on the wind; they
caught in her hair and disappeared within a blink. They melted
before they could settle on her skin, hot despite the goose bumps
that stood out on it.

She gave no indication that she was shy
about being caught here. Even if someone didn’t see, it seemed
impossible that the neighbors downstairs—or in the building across
the street, or all of Manhattan—wouldn’t overhear her sharply
ascending cries.

Not that I could help my own
noises. But they were grunts of concentration, a mantra of
don’t come, don’t come, don’t come
repeating under every breath. Her muscles
fluttered around me, and my bollocks drew up. I wanted to be inside
of her when she came, but I certainly didn’t want to be inside her
when
I
did. With a
noise that could only be described as the sonic equivalent of
distress and disappointment, I lifted her off me then urged her
back down, to rub her clit along the length of me. She’d been
close, and just a few glides back and forth brought her over. Her
cunt made sucking wet kisses against the underside of my shaft as
she moaned in relief. I grabbed her hips and kept them moving, just
two strokes behind her. I pulled my shirt and undershirt up, tipped
my head back, and groaned as I came, her slippery cunt still
slicking over me.

She collapsed on me, smearing our fluids
between us. “I know,” she said with a tired laugh. “I thought about
it, but I’m too tired to stay up.”

I pulled my shirts over my head and balled
up my undershirt to use as a rag when she was finally able to move.
Or I was. My heart pounded like I’d run up six flights of stairs,
and the pulse was strongest in my cock, mercilessly sensitive and
trapped between us. I dreaded moving, and prayed she wouldn’t. I
closed my eyes and took calming breaths. Meditation was good for
something, after all: keeping yourself from crying when something
is touching your post-orgasmic cock.