Page 8

Miranda

“Where are we going?” I ask, buzzing with exhilaration as he walks us deeper into the house. When he had pulled away instead of taking my virginity, I thought maybe he’d had second thoughts about being with me, but now…

Sherman climbs onto a large bed centered on the back wall beneath a window and lays me down in the middle of a ray of sunshine. “Tell me now, are you sure this—giving me your cherry—is what you want?”

I’m completely naked while he still has all his clothes on, and I tug at his polo shirt, too distracted with trying to undress him to think about his question.

Sherman sits up on his knees and circles my wrists. “Angel.”

I pause and look up to meet his eyes. “Yes, sir?”

He groans and rocks his hips in the air, drawing my attention to his large cock. “Eyes up here.” I do as he says, and his brows crease, seriousness etched in his features. “I want you to be one hundred percent sure about this.” He drops my wrists and tugs the hem of his shirt back down. “About being with me before we go any further. There’s still time to back out, and I won’t blame you.”

I maneuver up onto my knees. I think Sherman stops breathing when I pinch the fabric of his shirt on both sides and slowly pull it up, tugging on it twice until he finally lifts his arms for me to pull it off over his head. I scoot forward until our fronts are pressed together and ask him, “Are you one hundred percent sure you want to be with me?”

He cups my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “Of course I am.” His cock jerks against my bare stomach, my muscles vibrating with excitement at the thought of what it will feel like to have something so big inside me. “How is that even a question? You’re all I can think about.”

“Then you should know you’re all I can think about, too.”

His brows dip, trying to decipher if I’m telling the truth.

“What? You don’t believe me, sir?” Taking a page out of his book, I start by kissing his lips, working my way down his neck to his collarbone. Though I’ve never done anything of the sort before, and I’m more than a little nervous about taking the reins, I tell Sherman to lie down.

After a moment’s hesitation, he finally relents and lays on his back in the middle of the bed. He watches me with a clenched jaw as I rub my hands up and down his belly and then finally hook his waistband to tug his jeans off, dropping them over the side of the bed.

Sherman fists the sheets at his sides, his voice a gruff whisper when he hesitantly asks, “Angel?”

“Yes, sir?”

His cock bobs in the air, heavy and swollen. “Are you sure?” He grunts and grabs my waist when I straddle his wide hips on my knees and slowly lower my bottom.

I gasp when my core makes contact with the underside of his warm shaft. I brace my hands on his chest, feeling his heart beat wildly beneath my palm. Going on instinct, I wiggle on top of him until I’ve perfected the angle and can slide back and forth along his length, my pussy growing wetter.

I rub my hand down his torso to lovingly caress his belly, moving my hips faster. “Do you feel that, sir? Feel how much I want you?”

Sherman moves his hands down to my hips, bucking his up off the mattress, grinding his cock against me. “Yeah, I do. You’re wet, angel. Wet and so unbelievably gorgeous on top of me.”

I lean down, loving the way his bare skin feels against my nipples. I kiss him once, letting it linger, then look him straight in the eye, trembling with need. “Don’t ask me again if I’m sure.”

Sherman cups the back of my head and rolls us over. His large, masculine body on top of mine triples my desire for him. Even without having sex yet, I know this is how I want him every night. Our mouths never once part as he jerks his hips up, then positions the fat head of his cock at my entrance.

“Angel,” he breathes out as he slowly pushes inside me.

I’m elated he didn’t question me again before taking me, finally accepting the truth, even as my pussy smarts at the discomfort of being stretched to accommodate his size. I take a deep breath when he backs up, then slowly pushes deeper, back and forth, until our hips finally meet.

“Are you ok, angel?”

Despite the initial discomfort, there’s no pain like I expected to feel the first time I had sex. I hook my legs around his back and tug at the nape of his neck to deepen our kiss, silently answering him and begging him to keep going.

Each long, deep thrust after that is faster than the last until, eventually, I have to break the kiss to drag in a gasping breath, my head swimming as my pussy pulses around him. The pressure that builds in my core is more urgent than when he licked me into an orgasm in the kitchen, and I instinctively rock my hips to meet each forward stroke.

“Oh, angel, oh fuck, honey. You’re getting close, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Oh god, please, please, sir, make me cum again.”

Sherman snaps his hips, driving my body up, and I hold tighter to him. “Keep calling me ‘sir’, and you’re going to make me cum first.” He snaps his hips again, and the high his words illicit is as pleasurable as the peak of the orgasm I’m about to reach.

“Yes, yes, sir. I want you to cum.” Disappointment tugs at my heart when Sherman groans gutturally, pulls out of me, and rolls to the side. “Why did you stop? Because I called you ‘sir’?” I tumble back from my peak, and my eyes throb with impending tears. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

Sherman rolls back toward me, sitting up on his knees between my legs. “Angel, no. Never.” He waves a foil square in the air. “I just needed to stop to get a condom.”

“Why?”

He pauses halfway through ripping the foil open, looking back and forth between me and the square. “I know you’re young, but you know what condoms are, right?”

Sherman’s light brows shoot up when I take the condom from his hand, eye it with distaste, and ask him with a pout, “You don’t want to cum inside me, sir?” His cock jumps when I rest my palm on my lower belly, missing the fullness of him there.

Sherman fists his shaft, staring at my hand. “Are you on birth control?”

“No, sir.”

“God Almighty, angel. No condom, no birth control, nothing to protect you from getting pregnant.” He slides his free hand under mine, cupping my belly. There’s a hopeful note to his voice when he asks, “Is that what you want?”

I toss the condom over the side of the bed and hold my arms out for him. In an instant, he flattens me to the bed and surges inside me to the hilt. Gone are the long, measured strokes, replaced with fiery passion. Neither of us says a word, simply unable to between moaning and gasping for air, as he braces one elbow next to me so he can slide a hand between us, find my clit, and massage it.

My orgasm comes roaring back with a vengeance, the pressure in my core building to such an intensity that it almost scares me until it finally snaps. “Oh, Sherman, yes!” I clutch his strong shoulders as I writhe beneath him, finding enough air once I go over the peak to hoarsely beg, “Cum inside me, sir.”

Sherman moans, thrusts one final time, and fills me with his release.

I hug him close, stroking his back, ignoring the ache in my joints the longer I have to keep my legs spread wide around his body. “Thank you, sir.”

Sherman pushes his face into my neck, his warm breath making me shiver with delight as it fans over my skin. “Oh, angel, keep it up, and I’ll never be able to let you out of this bed.”

My mind skips to my daydream of him with our future children. “How many bedrooms do you have?”

It takes him a few seconds to push through the after-glow of his orgasm to respond to my seemingly out-of-the-blue question. “Three, including this one. Why?”

“Are they large enough for double beds? If not, I hope the ceilings are tall enough for bunk beds, or we’ll have to move.”

Sherman stares at me with a curious expression. “We?”

I skim a hand up and down his side. “Yes, sir. I saw three children in my dream, so at least two will have to double up unless we move into a larger house or build onto this one.”

Sherman’s softening cock begins to thicken inside me the more I talk about our children . A radiant smile slowly spreads from ear to ear. “You’re moving in with me?”

I laugh. “Well…you did say that you wouldn’t be able to let me out of your bed if I called you ‘sir’ again, so I kind of have to move in… sir .”

Sherman jerks his hips back, then thrusts forward with his renewed erection. “Truthfully, I wouldn’t let you out of here even if you didn’t call me ‘sir’. You’re mine, angel,” he says definitively.

I moan, flexing my hips, welcoming him deeper. “Yes, sir. I’m all yours.”