Chapter Six
Hudson
It's finally Sunday, and my first “date” with Gracie is in less than four hours. I feel like a nervous teenager again. Sweating in front of my prom date's front door, checking my breath for the hundredth time, barely daring to imagine where the evening might take us. It's a little ridiculous; I'm a grown-ass man with plenty of experience under my belt. I lost my virginity before I could even drive, and my bed has rarely been empty since. I shouldn't be sweating this at all.
But I've never had an evening with someone like Gracie—because there is no one like her. She's special to me, for so many reasons. I only distracted myself with all those other women in the first place because I couldn't have her. And she's handed me a huge gift; it's my responsibility to make sure her first time is as good as possible. There can be nothing commonplace about what we're doing tonight. In a way, I'm almost as new to this as she is.
At least Gracie's father won't answer the door with a service pistol tucked in his belt, unlike my actual senior prom date. Her big brother, on the other hand...
As best I can, I push away the thought of Hayden. But our friendship lingers in the back of my mind.
I quickly vacuum and dust my apartment, then head to the liquor store. I consider tequila for Sunrises, but I don't want either of us to get too drunk tonight, so I choose some wine from Sonoma Valley: White Zinfandel for her, Cabernet Sauvignon for me. I stick the white in the fridge, leave the red on the kitchen counter, and jump in the shower. I shave, brush my teeth, and pat on a little cologne. I decide on blue jeans and a short-sleeved polo, casual but not sloppy.
Finally there's nothing else to prepare. I even loaded up some chill-out music to play quietly in the background. So I settle onto the couch to kill time with a political thriller novel, the latest from my favorite author. I've been reading it every night before bed. Its plot is tense, its characters are intriguing, and I've got no hope in hell of concentrating on it right now. My eyes wander over the same page three times without absorbing a single word.
At the quick knock on my door, I gratefully drop the book on the coffee table and get up to answer.
Gracie is wearing a light blue sundress, its halter top cradling her breasts and her chestnut hair cascading in waves down her exposed back. Her apple-red toes peek out of flat beige sandals. She usually paints her nails some shade of pink or purple; maybe she wanted to look more grown-up for such a momentous occasion? If that was the case, mission fucking accomplished. She's always cute, but right now, she's beautiful. Breathtaking, if I'm being honest.
She offers me an adorable smile somewhere between excited and nervous. “Um...hey,” she says. “Am I late?”
I shake my head. “No, you're right on time.” I stand aside so she can step through and then lock the door. “You want something to drink? I've got a White Zin chilled and ready to go.”
She laughs a little as she toes off her sandals. “God, yes. You know me too well.”
And I'm about to get to know you even better. This is so damn awkward. Buying the booze was definitely a smart move. We'll both need some time to loosen up before we get down to business, or the mood will be all wrong.
I pour our wine and we sit on the couch, like we did at her place just two short nights ago. Gracie inclines her head towards the stereo system. “Is this song by Fistful Of Colors?”
“Yeah, actually. You have a good ear. I didn't know you were into electronic music.” For the most part, I'm not either. But the downtempo stuff makes great background noise when I'm working, reading...or entertaining women.
Gracie shrugs. The tension is already starting to ease out of her face. “Melanie used to love it, so I heard some of those bands a lot in college. That and R&B.”
We talk about music for maybe fifteen minutes. When she trails off for more than a couple seconds, I decide that's my cue to move things along. “So, tell me. What were you thinking of for tonight?” I ask bluntly. I have a few ideas in my back pocket, and I can run this show for her if she wants, but I'm curious about whether she had anything in mind.
She pauses, wineglass at her lips, and slowly puts it back down again. Her cheeks have turned pink. “Uh...I don't know. I mean...w-what do you mean?”
“What do you want to learn?” I set my own glass on the coffee table. “I guess I should ask what you've done before. No point in spending too much time on stuff you already know.”
“I've, um...” She takes a deep breath and tries to quickly rattle off her list. “I've made out with a few guys before. Heavy petting with clothes on. Second base once or twice. But I've never touched a...penis, or let anyone touch me...down there. Or done anything naked.”
I tamp down a tiny flare of jealousy. It only makes sense that she'd have at least a little experience—a girl who looks like Gracie would have no shortage of male attention. And this date will go smoother if she's not totally naïve. Why didn't she ever go further, though? Was nobody the right guy for her?
I decide to table that question for another time and focus on my task. “How about we just kiss for now?” I suggest. “Start simple and see where things go.”
Cheeks fully red now, she nods at me. I lean in...and it begins.
Just like last night, her mouth feels amazing, so soft and lush. I can already taste the hot nectar of the sweet wine on her breath. I can only imagine how the rest of her will feel and taste.
I lick at her vanilla-glossed lips, asking for permission, and she opens up with a barely audible sigh. My groin heats up and my core muscles relax and tense at the same time—a familiar sensation for a familiar dance. This is what I know best. Why was I stressing out before? With Gracie, even a simple kiss is heady, more exciting than any other woman I've known, but I'm still in my element. And I have a job to do.
She’s eager, that's for sure, but she doesn’t quite have the finer points down. Her lips open and close against mine almost randomly. Her tongue darts in and out, not sure where to find the happy medium between “timid” and “forceful.” I cup her chin and caress her tongue with mine, coaxing it into a slow, sensual dance instead of a game of hide-and-seek. I nip at her lower lip and hear her breath hitch. I teach her by example, and I'm pleased to find that she's a fast learner. In five minutes I'm rock-hard and she's almost panting.
I let my free hand fall to her heaving chest. I gently squeeze one perky tit through the dress, my cock twitching when the stiff peak of her nipple grazes my palm. She rewards me with a soft moan. Time to really get started. I reach around her neck for the halter top's tie and she immediately mumbles, “There's a hook under the bow.” I smirk a little; she's clearly ready to get this show on the road, and I'm all too happy to oblige.
The top of the dress falls down to reveal her naked chest. I knew she wasn't wearing a bra, because of the halter top and the way her breast fit into my hand—but fuck, it's a whole different deal seeing them in front of me. Gracie Oliver's tits, at long last. All my teenage fantasies come to life. They're perfect, creamy firm mounds topped by a cherry nipple, and I'm powerless to do anything but lean down for a taste.
She gasps aloud when my mouth closes around one peak. I quickly learn what draws the best noises out of her, and soon, her hips quiver against my stomach with every lick and suck. With one arm behind her back, I pull her closer to straddle me. I rub the heel of my free hand over her clothed crotch; she makes a swallowed noise of helpless eagerness. Wow, she's sensitive. Or maybe just pent up. Well, I'll take good care of that.
Looking up at her face, I reach down to caress her slim, smooth calf. She nods and I slip my hand further under her skirt, pushing aside the folds of cloth. Her hips quiver again when I stroke her inner thigh; she gasps again, even louder and more throaty this time, when I rub through her panties. The cotton slides easily over her pussy, soaking wet, and I can feel her heat right through the fabric.
“Are you ready?” I ask. Her body definitely is, but if she's going to get cold feet, now would be the most likely time.
Instead of the shy nod I expected, she pants, “Yes. I want you inside me.”
Fuck me running. What man could refuse that? Just the sound of Gracie's voice saying those words makes my cock throb. I stand up—as best I can with no blood left in my head—and take her hand, then lead her to the bedroom.
Not bothering to shut the door, I help her shimmy out of her dress. It pools on the floor and leaves her standing in only a pair of white cotton briefs. “Panties off,” I say, already drinking in the view. She's a goddess. Her body is even more perfect than I'd imagined. Every detail from her firm C-cups to her soft flat stomach, from the gentle curve of her hips and cute butt to her long, shapely legs.
After a minute of my admiration, she fidgets a little. “H-hey, this isn't fair. I'm naked and you still have all your clothes on.”
“We can do something about that. Undress me.”
Her lips part slightly in surprise. Maybe arousal, too. “Guys like that?”
“Sure they do. It shows them how much you want them.” Any idiot who's too insecure to let a hot girl undress him isn't a guy Gracie should bother with. And giving her control over this part of the process should help boost her confidence.
She only hesitates for a second, then stands on tiptoe to pull my shirt over my head. Then she unbuttons and unzips my jeans and lets them fall. Her eyes widen with amazement. She wasn't the only one who skipped a critical piece of underwear today.
“Jesus,” she exclaims, “how is this thing supposed to fit inside me?”
“You'll stretch. And I'll go as slow as you want.” Even if it's sheer torture. “Gracie...” I almost groan when she pets the head, curious about the slickness that has beaded there. “You want to learn how to jerk me off, baby?” The pet name slips out of nowhere.
This time her mouth drops further open. Like everything else, it's a good look for her. “W-what? I was just...” she stammers. Then her desire and boldness reassert themselves, and she nods with a resolute pout. “Sure. Teach me.”
I arrange her fingers to grip my shaft. Her delicate hand looks almost obscene on the thick, reddened flesh. Closing my hand around hers, I move it up and down to show her the best way to pump without tiring her arm. It feels fucking incredible and her tits bounce lightly with each stroke. Remembering I’m supposed to be actually imparting some wisdom, not just getting my cock jacked, I take a deep breath and try to cool down. “See that little bridge of skin there, right under the head?” I point out. “It's called the frenulum. That and the tip are the most sensitive places.”
Without any prompting, she adds a little flick to her motion that rubs over the spot with every stroke, sending sparks of heat straight through me. Fuuuck. Tension quickly starts building in my groin. Soon I have to grip her wrist to stop her.
“Let's leave the rest for next time,” I say, a little unsteadily. It's good to let her practice, but if she keeps touching me like that, I'll have to take a break before the main event. And I don't want to make her wait a single second longer. She clearly has the handjob basics down anyway.
She blinks and then gives me a cheeky grin. “Next time...okay. You're the professor here.” She sounds like she's looking forward to it as much as I am.
I take a condom packet from my bedside drawer, tear it open, and hold it up. “I'm sure you know what this is. The side with the lube on it and the reservoir tip sticking out is the side that goes outward. Now...” Holding out the condom, I let my voice drop a little lower. “I want to see you put it on me.”
Cheeks crimson, she accepts the condom, looking back and forth between my face and my rock-hard cock. Finally she gets down on her knees. My cock twitches at the sight, at the thought of her sweet pink mouth on me.
Concentrating with a cute crease between her brows, she rolls the condom on correctly and I bend down to reward her with a quick kiss. “You're a natural. Lie down on the bed when you're ready.”
I chuckle when she immediately jumps up. I was worried about her being a nervous virgin and psyching herself out of a good experience, but hardly any of her earlier shyness is left. Am I that good or is she just that horny? I decide I don't care. All that matters right now is giving her the time of her life.
I follow her onto the bed and prompt her let her legs fall open. She parts her knees, showing herself to me. Kneeling before her, I take a moment to inspect her pussy with care. She’s shaved bare, and I part her plump lips and using the pad of my thumb, stroke her clit in little circles. A helpless whimper rises in her throat.
“You’re nice and wet for me,” I say, my voice coming out too hoarse. “And very pretty down here.” She really is. Soft bubblegum pink dewy folds, a little swollen clit I want to suck on, and a tiny opening I can’t wait to fit myself inside of. Jesus. Is this really about to happen?
Pushing one finger inside her slowly, Gracie goes quiet and still. Her wide eyes are locked on mine as I draw my finger slowly in and out. She’s so tight and hot that her pussy sucks at my finger, greedily drawing me in up to my last knuckle. My cock twitches in jealously.
“Okay so far?” I breathe.
“Yeah,” she whispers.
My finger is slick with her wet heat and I can’t stop watching the way her tight opening looks taking me, parting for me. The scent of her – sweet feminine arousal – is almost too much for me to handle. I want to bury my face in her cunt and eat her for hours. But something tells me I should mind my manners and get on with the lesson instead of indulging in my own fantasies.
Deciding it’s time to get on with the show, I bring her legs up to rest around my waist. As I press a deep kiss to her mouth, I guide myself toward her core. When my cock nestles right up against her hot folds, I stop. “Are you sure?” I ask, giving her one last chance to change her mind.
“Very,” Gracie says, sliding her wet pussy over me as we continue to kiss, our mouths unable to stay apart for long.
As clouded as my brain is by arousal, I try to focus in on everything. The way her breathing hitches when I push forward the tiniest bit. The pulse I can feel rioting in her throat when I press my mouth there. The way her tight channel grips me as I rock forward again—deeper this time.
Gracie groans, her discomfort mixed with pleasure. I slow down, kissing her deeply as I let her body adjust to the brand new invasion.
Even slick and soft with arousal, she's still tight as hell. I slip in millimeter by millimeter, stopping whenever she stiffens or squeaks. When I feel her begin to relax and accept me, I thrust further in and bite back a groan. No one has ever felt this good before. Our moans mix in the pheromone-heavy air and our heartbeats slam together.
When I finally bottom out, I look up at her—she's panting, eyes heavy-lidded, skin damp with sweat—and ask, “You okay? Want to stay like this for a little while?”
Her heels dig into the small of my back. “Just...keep moving...”
Slowly I pull out, and then ease back in again. “You're doing so good, baby,” I murmur into her silky hair. It smells like lavender shampoo. “I know you can take me. We'll do it together.”
She rocks her hips sharply and I take my cue to speed up. She makes little needy noises that shoot straight to my cock. I shift my angle, looking for her G-spot, and know I've found it when she gives a loud, guttural moan. I pull her hips to meet mine with every thrust, showing her how much better it feels when she moves, too. She immediately catches on.
“Your pussy feels so good around me,” I grunt.
Leaving one hand on her hip to guide her, I rub her clit with my thumb. She cries out again, ragged and desperate. Her beautiful sapphire eyes are wild with desire. Lost in them, I can't look away, can't do anything but push her higher into pleasure.
Her body tenses and shakes. Her nails dig into my back. Finally she cries, “Oh...oh, don't stop, Hudson...” Her pussy clamps down on my cock, pulsing with the waves of her orgasm. I groan and let myself fall over the edge with her.
Still inside her, I take a moment to catch my breath, resting above her on my elbows. She cranes her neck to kiss me: chaste, unhurried, affectionate, so different from the desperate passion of a few minutes ago. I return her soft kisses, enjoying the calm after the storm.
Her giggle is a subtle hum against my lips. “I did it,” she says. “Virginity no more.”
“Shall I alert the media?” I chuckle, and get a little bite on the chin for my teasing.
Half of me is already planning how to make our next date even better. The other half is still savoring this moment with Gracie, enveloped in her warmth, her exhausted satisfaction. Face to face.