Sam

Ian pops out of the truck and heads to my door when we arrive back at his house. It’s a chivalrous gesture, but in this moment also profoundly welcome. My legs have ceased to accept commands from my brain, opting instead to shake and sputter about on their own. He extends his hand, accepting mine and then wraps my arm through his as he helps me down and inside—somehow managing to be both masculine and in control of the situation, while simultaneously aware of and attentive to my needs.

Oh my God. I just had sex in a parked truck with the man of my dreams. This is a thing that just happened. Not only did it happen, but it was fucking epic. And what exactly did he fuck me with? I couldn’t see anything in the darkness of the back seat, but I need to get a look at his equipment because, holy shit. There is exactly zero percent chance I would ever debase myself with such an act for anyone. Ever. At least, that used to be true, but here? Now? With this man? After that experience? Sign me up for that ride anytime.

Ian escorts me to the couch and takes a seat by my side, turning his body to mine. “Sam, we should talk about what just happened.” His face is warm and sincere and in this light, his beautiful green eyes have an almost hazel hue.

“Please don’t tell me it was a mistake. It wasn’t. It couldn’t have been. It felt too natural to be anything else,” I say, emphatically.

The crinkle in his brow eases, and his shoulders relax as he breathes out. “Are you sure that’s how you feel? I admitted a long-held secret to you before. I have had these feelings for a long time and I need to be certain you aren’t just a bit tipsy and weren’t thinking clearly at the moment.”

“Ha! I’m a third-year Tar Heel, I hardly think a few fru-fru drinks are enough to inebriate me,” I say laughing. “I’m at the peak of my drinking game mister. In fact, if it’s not too much to ask, I could go for another, while I recover.”

Smiling, he leaves my side and heads for the bar. “Well, I don’t know that I have much in the way of fruity,” he says pausing to look over the bottles. “It appears I stick to the basics, we’ve got vodka, whiskey, vermouth, and gin. Any of those doable?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” I reply, unfamiliar with how to drink liquor that isn’t in a shot glass.

“Well then, darlin', how do you take your whiskey? I prefer mine neat, but that can be an acquired taste.” Ian pauses momentarily and draws his fingers across the stubble of his chin. “Hmm, I think I’ve got just the thing for you—be right back,” he says, clearly pleased with himself as he heads to the kitchen.

He returns with a glass of something in hand. “Have you ever had the pleasure of a Jameson and Ginger, my dear?”

“I have not,” I reply.

“Well then, prepare to be dazzled, but beware they have a nasty habit of sneaking up and biting you on the ass,” he says with a mischievous grin.

“Why Mr. Black, if you hadn’t just had your way with me I’d think you were trying to get me drunk and take advantage,” I say in a playful, flirty voice.

“Perhaps I’m trying to make up for lost time,” he says as he takes a seat across from me with his drink.

Ian sips his whiskey from an expensive looking crystal glass while I confess my feelings for him and how I’ve dreamt so many times about this moment. The conversation is magical as we both share memories of the other and how we’ve thought back to them time and again adapting them into what-if fantasy encounters. Before I know it, my drink is empty and I realize I am officially tipsy, perhaps a little more than tipsy. He wasn’t wrong, that drink will sneak up and bite you on the ass.

“Ian? Would it be alright if I stayed here tonight? It’s late and I don’t think I could slip back into the house without waking my parents, and I’m not ready for the inevitable conversation with Mom about the evening.”

“Sure, you can take my bed. I’ll bunk here on the couch,” he says.

“But, what if I want you to take your bed, with me?” I ask in the best sexy little girl voice I can manage.

“Christ, keep talking to me with that voice and you can have anything your heart desires, darlin',” he says as he bends down in front of me, slides his arms under my knees and back, and effortlessly picks me up and carries me to his bedroom.

No sooner has he laid me down on his king size bed, then his demeanor shifts, and he goes to work removing my clothes. The kindness in his eyes is replaced with fire; this is a man who knows what he wants and intends to have it.

I raise my arms, creating a path for my dress as he pulls it over my head. His hands pause to cup and lightly squeeze my bare breasts on their journey to remove my panties once more. Ian pauses, taking a moment to appreciate his work, as I lay before him bare and hungry, brimming with anticipation for what is to come.

“Please, I want you inside me again,” I plead.

“In good time beautiful,” he says as he parts my legs at the knees. He slowly runs a hand down my inner thigh, stopping just short of my throbbing pussy, causing it to clench as my hips rise—yearning for contact—desperate to feel him enter. I look up at him, my eyes wild with desire, and beg him to take me.

His focus unbroken, he slides back on the bed and further spreads my legs with his hands while his face comes down to meet my pussy. My neck strains to watch, to drink everything in, but the moment his tongue makes contact my head drops to the pillow and my eyes close, lost in ecstasy.

I can feel him against my most sensitive of places. His tongue is wide and flat and warm, touching my lips with firm, constant pressure as he licks upward, taking his time. He pauses just shy of my clit and makes a swirling motion before it begins the trek down the same path toward my asshole.

My hips push into his face and I hear a small groan of agreement before I feel his tongue changing shape as he approaches… “Oh my God!” I gasp as he swirls again, but this time his tongue is extended and firm, reaching out to my ass and playing with it. The feeling is too strong and I cannot hold back any longer, my pussy convulses and I come. Hard.

Wave after wave of pleasure rush through me causing me to buck against his mouth, but he responds only by pulling my hips down, maintaining his focus where he wants it through my release. He is definitely in control of the situation and it is so incredibly hot.

I struggle to find enough breath to tell him how turned on I am. “Please. Fuck me. Now,” I moan.

Hearing those words, his hands release my hips, and he sits up. I open my eyes to see him, to get another glimpse of his magnificent body, in time to see him unclasp his belt and pull his pants away, kicking them to the other side of the room. It’s only when he removes his boxer briefs that I understand why my pussy was so sore from our encounter in the truck. His cock is gorgeous, thick and long, complete with a perfectly shaped helmet, but it is big. It must be as big as my wrist at the base.

He crawls back on the bed and flips me onto my stomach, grabs my hips, and brings my ass back to him, biting it gently. “Jameson isn’t the only thing that can sneak up and bite you on the ass,” he says.

Once I am in the position he wants, he runs a hand between my legs and gently inserts his fingers into me. I am overtaken and my juices burst out, soaking his hand. “Good,” Ian says softly. “I want you to be ready for this.” With his dick in his other hand, he brings it to my opening, moving his hand away and stopping when the crown of his cock meets resistance from my inner lips.

He has one hand on my hip and reaches the other around to the front of my pussy, pulling back on the skin and exposing my clit. Then he pushes forward slowly until I feel his groin against my ass, his cock buried inside me. Fuck, he is so big. I am stretched to my limit from my vulva to my cervix. The sensation is indescribable. It takes a moment for my walls to relax, but he moves slow as if to give me time to adjust, all the while gently rubbing my button. I’ve never had this much man before today, but as my body adjusts to the feeling, what should be painful is amazing. Pressure begins building within me again, almost immediately.

“Ian, I’m going to come.”

“Not yet darlin'. I want you to hold it,” he says.

Hold it? How the hell am I supposed to do that?

“I. I don’t think I can,” I say in between moans of pleasure.

“Hold it!” he commands, as he plunges himself into me with increasing speed.

I don’t know how, but I can feel his cock surging. It is getting harder and throwing me over the edge. “I … I can’t—I can’t hold it anymore,” I bellow.

And then, when I don’t think I can wait any longer, he lets me find release.

“Now! Come now!” he replies as we both explode into one another in what can only be described as sexual dynamite.