Page 34 of Broken SEAL'S Secret Baby
“We’re alone, and Cece isn’t likely to hop up and interrupt us. Storms terrify me. Even being a few minutes late into the storm shelter can mean death, and sometimes if the things aren’t built right, they get rooted out of the ground or people get sucked right out of them. If that’s going to happen, I want to know what it’s like. Everyone says that sex is something that’s better when it’s shared.”
I return to stroking her back. “It can be,” I say. “Or it can be terribly frustrating if you and your partner are off stride with each other, or if the male half of the equation has had too much to drink. When it is right or even close, it’s far more than just a piston moving in a socket or a bundle of nerves responding to stimuli. It’s a joining.” I hesitate to say the next part, even though I thought it was true. “That is nearly spiritual in nature, taking us beyond ourselves.
“Well, I think I’m pretty much a bundle of nerves all over,” Kate says, although she doesn’t sound as shook up or distressed as she had a few minutes before.
“That’s reasonable,” I say, rubbing the base of her neck and caressing her jaw with my thumb. “Skin is the biggest erogenous organ of the body, and it’s all over you.”
She giggles again and snuggles up to me, as trusting and innocent as Gidget or Cece. But then she lifts her face to me and says softly, “I know you can only give your first time once. But I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather give it to than you.”
That just about took my breath away. “I’m a possessive bastard,” I say. “I won’t want to share you.”
“That’s all right,” she says. “I don’t want to share you,either.” And the little minx starts undoing the buttons on my shirt.
There is only so much self-restraint in me. “I’m cooperating with the inevitable,” I murmur, beginning to undo her buttons. I pause to admire her small, perky breasts, tipped with dark rose nipples. She might have been a “B” cup, but they are rounded and well-formed.
She pauses at the last button on my shirt. “What did you say?” she asks.
“I said, I’m cooperating with the inevitable,” I reply, slipping my hand under her bra and running my thumb over her nipple.
She snuggles into the touch, trying to get more of it. “What does that mean?”
“It was something Bob Heinlein had one of his characters say. Something to the effect that if a woman was determined, that it was best to just give in to the inevitable and cooperate.”
She pauses in undoing my last button. “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “Heinlein couldn’t write a real female any day of the week, even though he wrote some of the best yarns I ever read.”
“Am I real?” she asks. “Or am I just Galatea to your Pygmalion?”
“Oh, Kate,” I breathe in her ear, reaching behind her with my pinned hand to unsnap her bra. I am pleased to find that I can still do it . . . six months without live female companionship has not dimmed my skills. “You are very much a Real Girl, and my nose is not growing when I say that. And since you are, let’s make this memorable. A first time should be more than a hasty coupling to calm fears and assuage loneliness.”
I nibble kisses down her throat, across her collarbone,and to her left breast. I take the nipple in my mouth and suck on it. When it is nicely wet, I blow on it gently, then flick with my tongue. She squirms under my hand in response, forgetting about my shirt button.
I cup her breast in my hand, moving my thumb across the sensitized skin, and suck and nibble at her right breast. She shivers, arching her back trying to somehow get closer to me. I slip her blouse off her shoulders and slide it down, effectively trapping her arms. Her only response to her sudden captivity is to roll her pelvis toward me while making little whimpering noises of desire.
I don’t want to alarm her, so I continue to slip the blouse down her arms as I nibble kisses down her stomach. By the time I reach her jeans, I have her shucked out of her blouse, and her pretty lace bra off as well.
She shivers again as I stop to look at her, then undo her jeans and gently work them off. She tries to help, but I shake my head. “Not much room in here,” I say. “Let me.”
When the jeans are out of the way, I pause to admire her. As I thought, she is slim, not skinny. She is lightly muscled with just enough padding to smooth over her ribs and hip bones.
She has swim suit lines, almost giving the illusion that she has on pale pink undies. The edges are just blurred enough to suggest that her tan is from summer swimming or other outdoor activities, rather than from a tanning bed. No doubt, if the world was normal, she’d have been out several times swimming and adding to it.
Her pubic curls are a dark, thick wedge that is untrimmed. This meant that I have to go exploring for the tiny nub that Em had suggested I might need a map to find. After five years of marriage, I knew what I was seeking.
Rather than risk aggravating the hip, I help her ease up onto the high back of the bed, and use the remote to flattenthe knee ridge. I scoot down, spreading her knees wide to reveal her valley of delight.
It is a dark pink, nearly matching her nipples. Heinlein had gotten one thing right: it looked like an orchid, and it was beautiful. Her clitoris is erect, and the hairs about it are glistening with moisture.
She holds still, letting me look. I blow on it softly, moving the last few hairs out of the way. She shivers again. Is she cold? Or is that a reaction? I don’t want to lose the magic of the moment by speaking, so I gently lick the insides of her labia, then up to the entrance of her vulva, finally ending at the sensitive bud of her clitoris. I nibbled at it, then suck on it, eliciting a soft moan from her.
She tries to reach for me, but I want her completely ready. Vibrator notwithstanding, I want this to feel good for her, without even the slightest hint of pain. She tastes good, like fruit and cream. She is wet and wriggling against me, trying to close her thighs on my head. I can feel myself swell in response to her efforts.
Still not trusting the hip, I use the remote for the bed to flatten it and gently pull her over on top of me. Not only will this spare my hip, it puts her in control. If at any time she changes her mind, she can roll off and stop.
But Kate cooperates eagerly, sliding her wet, eager doorway down my stomach, trying to capture my penis. She is a little off target, and this leads to a fit of the giggles, which spoils her aim even more.
I resort to lifting her gently, then settling her over her target, savoring the sweet sensation as I slowly enter her.
