Madison

He's rolling me over and over on the carpet, and pretty soon he ends up on top, the good strong weight of his sexy body pressing into me. I'm hot and I'm cold, yes, both at once, and I'm so excited I can't help lifting my legs to wrap them around his powerful torso. The feel of those abdominal ridges against my naked thighs...

Wrapping my legs around his waist like that is such a simple thing, but it feels so primal. I'm damp and soft and trembling, and he's hard, hard, hard.

And also he's chuckling, the kind of little chuckle that lets you know he's holding in a bigger belly laugh. “Why were so you afraid to tell me, baby? You really think any man would be angry to find out you're a virgin? That isn't how men work.” He plants little kisses all over my face— the corners of my eyes, the corners of my mouth. Then full on the mouth, but not deep, more fluttery, so he can keep reassuring me. “I'd be so honored to take your cherry. It's all up to you, baby. What you want is what I want. We'll go at your speed.”

What is my speed? Do I even know?

His cock feels huge where it's trapped between our bellies. How can he already be that hard again? I may be a virgin, but I've heard all the horror stories about guys who come and go before you know they were ever there.

One thing's for sure. Noah isn't one of them.

Nope, he's definitely not the kind of guy who switches off after just one explosive climax. He's like me. One orgasm stimulates the desire for the next. And then the next. We tremble together, sticky and hot with shared desire.

Funny to think a big famous rock star could have something in common with little ole me. Funny to think he could experience such need.

His sexy voice is a blur in my ear. He's saying something about how he's safe, how he always uses protection, and...

I grip my thighs more tightly around his waist, pulsing my inner muscles to emphasize my words. “Well, I don't need a test, and I'm guaranteed safe since I'm a virgin.”

He rocks his big weight into me. “What are you telling me, Maddy?”

“You know what I'm telling you.” I look directly into his famous eyes. “I want it to be special. I don't want any barriers between us.”

“You shouldn't trust anybody so much.” He keeps grinding that tempting cock of his into my tender belly.

“I do trust you, though. I do. I know you would never hurt me.”

He groans from his diaphragm, the same way he breathes. A singer's groan. Sexy. I can feel the breath pulsing in and out of him. “How can I resist you, Maddy? Tell me that. How?”

“I don't want you to resist. So how can I tell you how?”

We can't stay down here. What we're feeling is much too strong. Suddenly, his big hands slide under my ass, and then he's standing up while still holding me in his arms with my legs still wrapped tight around his waist. It feels easy and natural the way he does it, although I know most men aren't both that powerful and that flexible.

The only men who can make that move are ballet dancers and rock stars.

But it's happening, it's real, and now I'm being carried into the nearest bedroom, which is roughly the size of a football field. The bed is California king-sized, enough room for an orgy. The sheets are pink satin with little red hearts on them. The pillows and duvet are Valentine red.

“Tacky, I guess,” he says.

“No, not at all,” I say.

“There's pretty much a bedroom in any color you want. Goth black, masculine brown, hunter green, bridal white satin...”

There's a stripper pole in one corner and some pink leather benches that I don't even know what they're for. It's the passion pit room. Maybe it is tacky, but it's honest too. It's so in your face what this room is for.

Fucking. You can't dance around it, not when it's so in-your-face. This is a fuck palace, down and dirty, simple as that.

“I like it here,” I say.

“Yeah. I do too. All this acreage...” He spreads me across the big mattress and I feel all that slippery softness against my backside as he parts my thighs so he can start licking me again.

“I'm wet enough,” I say. Or think I say. Or maybe I don't say anything. Maybe all I do is gasp like somebody undergoing a little electric shock, because I'm already coming again all over his probing tongue. As I spasm, I grip his cheeks with my trembling thighs, the better to let him feel everything I'm feeling.

I'm so wet, so creamy, so open. I'm still a virgin underneath, but I'll never be more open than this.

“Please, baby. Please, Noah. It's time. Take me. Take me now.”

The mattress, like the hotel tower, is new. It's almost eerie how little it creaks beneath the weight of two bodies. Noah descending is an impressive sight, especially with that pierced cock leading the way. Am I sure I'm ready for this?

My body is sure. With no input from my brain, my thighs kick wide apart again. My ass curls and clenches. His crown probes for my slickery wet entrance, and he somehow finds the self-control to hold himself there. Like he has all time and eternity to invest in taking my cherry. He's metal and flesh, and the trickle of pre-cum from his tip is a steady drip, drip, drip that signals to us both how much he wants me.

And yet he holds himself with his pierced head just outside my trembling entrance.

Waiting.

Teasing.

“You need to be sure.” His voice is a purr of temptation.

“I am sure, Noah. Oh fuck, please. Now. Please, baby. Now.”

Has a man ever moved more slowly to take aim? He knows I'm aching for it, and I know he's aching for it, and yet he shifts position so slowly that I almost don't realize when he starts thrusting at the critical angle. Then I do, oh fuck, oh God, oh yes I do, I realize everything.

With a sudden squeal, I grip my legs around his waist in the tightest grip I've used yet. So tight I can feel muscles bunching and cramping, but I don't care about the cramping. All that matters is that I'm determined to never, ever, ever let him go.

“Don't stop,” I cry. “Please. Don't ever stop.”

He isn't stopping. No fucking danger of that. I'm saying it just to be saying it, because the words can't help coming out. His body rocks into my body, up and down, around and around. After all the teasing, after the infinitely slow patience of his approach, I'm shocked at how quickly the final barrier is split open, just that easily, just that fast. Boom! I don't feel the pain people tell you to expect. What I feel is raw intensity. This isn't pain. It's pleasure.

As we move together faster and faster, my clit discovers itself being rubbed by some determined bone in his pelvis. Now his pierced cockhead has located what has to be my G-spot, and that stiff leading edge is utterly relentless. Every time he hammers the crucial place, I lift a little higher into total insanity. I can't hold back, and I don't need to. First the preliminary proto-orgasms. Then the fire-burst.

I come explosively. Fuck, TNT doesn't explode this forcefully. And it doesn't stop. I trigger over and over again. Each deep contraction is followed by another one even deeper.

It's a genuine multiple O. Nobody has to spell it out for me. I can tell.

Even a virgin can recognize when she's being hit by a runaway train.

We're bonded in that minute. That's when it happens. I have no awareness of anything outside this bed, anything except the two of us becoming one in the most physical possible manner. At the time, I'm incapable of rational thought, but later I realize he couldn't have lasted so long if I hadn't taken the time to suck him off first in that supply closet.

That's the only reason we can keep going and going and going. My pussy feels like it's turning inside-out from the powerhouse spasms taking place deep inside of me. Hell, it feels like it's turning him inside-out.

I want to ask him how he can hold back from coming, but I can't remember how to make words.

We're just gasping, and grunting, and heaving, and humping.

All this time, he's gazing into my eyes, his own eyes getting wider and wider, as if he can't believe this is even happening. Sometimes, he tries to kiss me with his eyes still open, because he doesn't want to break the connection. Sometimes, he lifts his head back and just stares at me as if awestruck.

We've stepped out of time. The force of our lovemaking has lifted us from reality into eternity. I don't know how long we stay there, how long we can stay there.

Forever. It feels like forever. A kind of heaven.

We gaze into each other's eyes, and I wonder if my eyes are burning with the same intensity as his.

Come, I want to say. Come.

But I can't say anything.

I can barely fucking remember how to breathe.

People say a lot of things about toe-curling sex, but I didn't know your toes actually curled. In a distant part of my brain, I wonder if I'm going to get a cramp in my left foot. It really does feel like it's balled up like a fist.

And yet I continue to lift higher.

And then...

Then...

He loses control of his strokes. They come faster, in a broken rhythm. His eyes finally do snap closed, and mine do too, and everything between us is about tactile sensation.

We're both feeling the strength of this. Together. Yes, fuck yes. We're coming together, and I've never felt anything so real.