Chapter 27 – Chelsea
“I can’t believe your childhood was so bad,” I say.
And then I grimace at my own remark.
“Oh my god. That wasn’t a good thing to say. I’m sorry. I’m just a bit shell shocked by what you just told me.”
He laughs, and I’m relieved that I didn’t offend him.
“Completely understandable,” he says. “But I didn’t tell you to be all woe is me. There were some good times too. My dad and I always played a lot of football together. He actually played for the Wildcats, back when…”
He pauses.
“…the team was actually good,” I finish for him, knowing he didn’t want to say it.
“Exactly,” he says. “And I mean that as no offense to your dad. He’s a great coach but the talent just isn’t there and once a team goes downhill, no good athlete wants to play there.”
“I know.”
Poor Dad. I’m glad at least he’s having a winning season now that Wesley has joined the team.
“Anyway,” Wesley continues. “It’s been hard to have to grow up as the child of someone who sees themselves as this star athlete. There was a lot of pressure. But there were definitely good times too.”
“I understand,” I tell him. “I’m Coach Thompson’s daughter, after all. Everyone thinks I’m only the head cheerleader because of him. Yet he thinks I can always work harder, no matter what I do or how much success I legitimately earn. So I can’t win either way. And I have a brother who could probably tell a similar story. He plays football too.”
“I totally get it,” Wesley says. “And I know you work hard. Every day I watch you working your ass off. But not really— because it’s still there and I still love it.”
I laugh, trying not to blush.
“I guess part of the reason I told you is that, since you had the unfortunate experience of seeing my parents in action, you know what it looks like to have unhappy parents,” he continues.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Just that if your dad has found happiness, you should be happy for him. It’s much better than having an unhappy dad.”
“I see,” I tell him.
I appreciate what he’s trying to say, but I don’t think the two comparisons are exactly the same. My dad was happy. With my mom. They rarely fought and when they did, they were quick to make up.
But I get what he means about being happy for my dad and I’m determined to try to do it, especially now that I see what the alternative looks like.
“Thanks,” I say, but I can’t even get the word all the way out because he’s kissing me.
“Psychotherapy time is over,” he announces.
I laugh, but I’m starting to get turned on. Which is odd, considering the very serious conversation we’d just been having.
“I want to see your body again,” he whispers, one of his arms pulling me into a standing position while the other tugs at my pants. Now I’m standing up in front of him while he’s still sitting on the bed. “I need to be inside you, finally.”
“I want you inside me,” I say, as he takes off my clothes.
“You are so fucking gorgeous,” he says.
He spins me around and runs his hands over my butt cheeks. He squeezes them gently.
“You’ve got the most perfect ass. Full and firm. I’ve loved how your body looks ever since the first time I saw you on that football field,” he says.
Then he turns me back around and slides his finger into me while he puts one of my nipples into his mouth. I know he can feel my juices dripping out onto his hand as he fingers me and rubs my clit. I’m so wet and I want him so badly.
He stands up to take his own clothes off, kissing and touching me the entire time. I squeeze his muscular forearms, mesmerized by how cut and buff his body is. I can’t get over his chiseled chest and washboard abs. I’d never understood the point of tattoos, but now I love how his decorate his biceps and triceps.
This is it.
My heart pounds fast as if it can hear the Universe announcing that it’s time.
As Wesley sucks my nipple and continues to play with me, I can’t get over the fact that I’m about to lose my virginity to the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.
Then he says, “Here, let me do something I’ve been thinking about since I first met you.”
He guides me towards the bed and stays standing at the foot of it. I’m on all fours looking back at him as he squeezes my ass once again. I never thought I’d like the doggy-style position— especially not for my first time— but I’m so turned on that it feels perfect right now.
I love the way he’s staring at my body. And I love how his huge cock is inching towards me.
“God, you have the most perfect pussy,” he says. Then he adds, “I’ll go slow.”
I can feel the tip of his cock on my pussy. He holds my hips while he gently slides it into me. In this position— or maybe it’s just because of how wet and ready I am— I’m completely opened up and it goes in much more smoothly than I’d always imagined it would for my first time.
I’d expected pain or fear but I just fear complete abandonment and pleasure.
“That feels so good,” I moan, as he pushes it all the way inside me.
“Oh my god,” he says, groaning as he thrusts in and out of me now. “Chelsea. This is amazing.”
He spreads me completely open, and I lean back into him, wanting— no, needing— his cock all the way inside me. He pumps harder, saying, “Is this okay?” but I’m sighing, gasping, holding onto his pillows for support as I feel a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over me.
“I’m coming,” I tell him, collapsing my head into the pillow as he continues to thrust himself into me.
“Good,” he says, grabbing my hips and ass even tighter. “Come on my cock.”
“Wesley, Wesley, Wesley.”
All I can manage to do is moan his name as I come.
He slows down a bit, letting me catch my breath while still working my pussy.
I’ve never felt this good in my entire life.
I can feel him pulsing inside me and then he speeds up once again, his hands moving up to grab my breasts as he pumps harder and harder with his cock.
“Yes,” I say, moving my hips along with him, back and forth on his bed while he fucks me. “I love how you fuck me.”
“I love how you fuck me too…” he begins, but trails off, his breath becoming heavier.
Another wave ripples through me as his cock pulsates inside me and I realize we’re going to come at the same time.
“You’re making me come again,” I say, as I feel him coming too.
“Oh my god. Chelsea. God.”
We both moan, our animal instincts taking over instead of words, and then he collapses on the bed beside me. He puts his arm around me and I say, “Thank you.”
He opens an eye and smiles, saying, “Thank you?”
“Yeah, that was a dumb thing to say.” I smile sheepishly. “I just… that was really nice. It was perfect.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” He kisses my neck and I snuggle closer up against him. “As you can tell, so did I. And that’s an understatement.”
“I think I held off on doing that for so long because after a while it had become this big Thing I Hadn’t Done,” I confess to him. “And I was scared that it wouldn’t live up to the incredibly high expectations I’d built up for it.”
“I hope I helped disprove your fears,” Wesley says.
“It wasn’t scary at all.”
“Good.”
“It was amazing.”
I’m exhausted yet also exhilarated. I feel like pushing this elation to a whole new level. I want to keep the momentum going, even though I now know that a perfect sex session is impossible to beat.
But suddenly I get an idea that might come close.