Page 7 of Wood Lessons

ANNA

P eter’s taste fills my mouth, and it's unexpectedly delicious. My palm squeezes the base of his shaft—an answering jet of pre-cum hitting my throat—and I revel in the power I have over him. At first, paranoid thoughts of gagging or hating going down on him plastered themselves all over my mind, but I forced my attention on Peter’s support and realized it was worth trying even if I failed to please him.

And his claim to be mine? It made me want to prove I’m a worthy partner.

Now, those doubts spiral down the drain with the rest of the shower water.

Rubbing my tongue on the sensitive ridge underneath, Peter jerks and lets loose another expletive.

I may not be experienced, but it’s easy enough to tell he enjoys my ministrations which goes a long way towards reassuring me.

“Anna... I’m so close...” The promise of his impending orgasm ignites my fervor, and I strain to take more of him.

Seconds later, hot streams of cum surge from him and overflows between us as I struggle to swallow every last drop.

When it finally stops, I release him with a pop and stand on unsteady legs.

“Guess you liked it, huh?” I tease while massaging his relaxed shoulder. His chest rises and falls with quick breaths, and I can’t help but admire my handiwork.

I did this to him.

His answer is to capture a nipple between his lips, sucking hard before switching sides and releasing me. “Did you like that?”

God, yes.

“Now, brace your hands against the wall.” He growls and whips me to face the wet tile. The abrupt change sends my head spinning, but I’m game for whatever he’s planning. Teeth nipping my shoulder, Peter covers my splayed hands with his.

“I’m going to fuck you just like this. It’s going to be deep and hard.

” The explicit words burn over my skin as eagerness settles between my thighs.

“I know you’re a virgin, so if you need me to be gentle, we’ll wait because I don’t have the restraint in me after having your lips wrapped around my dick. ”

“No, I need you now. I’m not so innocent that I’ve never used a vibrator before; I should be able to take you like this.”

I hope.

“You’ve been playing alone with this pussy all these years, baby?

Don’t worry; that won’t be necessary any longer.

” His hand slides over my stomach to part my curls before pinching my clit.

The shocking move sends my body bolting into his, only to be slammed back to the tile—my breasts smashed against the flat surface.

“It’s my turn now. Understand?” The heavy weight of his firm body traps me against the wall, removing any option for me to shift away.

Not that I want to.

Somehow, he’s tapped into a dark fantasy of mine—to be dominated—and a whimper of need bubbles over. His feet nudge mine further apart as he uses one hand to guide himself to my pussy. My inner walls contract, needing his hard cock to tunnel inside.

“Ready, Anna?”

I barely get a confirmation out when Peter thrusts deep, and I gasp at the penetration. Holy hell, he’s thick. Thicker than I’m used to—the strong rhythm he sets surpassing anything I’ve ever used at home.

My mind wanders in a dreamy haze as the pleasure builds inside my body, centering where Peter slams into me and blooming outward. It’s difficult to believe I started the day a virgin, hoping something would grow between me and Peter; now I’m bent over in his shower as he takes me from behind.

But it doesn’t feel wrong or dirty. A sense of belonging burrows into my heart overshadowing any negative judgement of my actions.

Suddenly, Peter shifts the angle of his thrusts, and thinking becomes impossible. “Please, Peter... Don’t stop...”

His mouth nuzzles my neck and fingers circle my clit as his speed increases. “Come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel your pussy—”

My cry of release interrupts the explicit command, and Peter follows with a jerky slam of his hips that shoots warmth down my thighs as he pulls out. And a random thought of pregnancy flits about before disappearing.

Reaching for the shower knobs, he turns off the cold water, and our labored breathing echoes around the stall. I pivot around and drop my forehead to Peter’s chest—exhausted but content.

“If we can manage, it might be a good idea to go somewhere where we can’t accidentally slip and break our necks.” I laugh and agree with his assessment. With the weakness still radiating in my legs, falling in the slick shower doesn’t seem so far-fetched.

“And we can dry off; the soggy prune life ain’t for me.”

He shrugs and hands me a towel. “I don’t know. You still look sexy as fuck to me.”

Apparently, our lovemaking hasn’t robbed me of the ability to blush because heat sparks at the compliment. Dipping my head in sudden shyness, I pat away the drops of water clinging to my skin, focusing on the simple task instead of responding—and reality seeps into the silence.

But it’s not tinged with fear or regret; instead, a sense of optimism reigns supreme.

All this time I’ve worried so much about embarrassing myself or saying the wrong thing around people that I’ve avoided even the possibility by shutting myself away.

Yet, here I am after making the decision to try something new—to trust Peter—and things haven’t exploded in my face.

Whatever happens next, I’ve proven risks are worth the potential rewards.

An overwhelming need to share the revelation with Peter explodes in a rush of words.

“You’re the only man to ever say such a thing to me, and I don’t know if it’s post-orgasmic hormones or your teaching skills.

” He grins at that last part. “But I really like you. You claimed to be mine, but I won’t hold you to promises made in the heat of the moment if this is just a fling for you. ”

Buzzing drones in my ear while blood rushes to my head at the uncharacteristic outburst. My hands clench in the terry cloth surrounding me as I wait for his answer.

Please, don’t let me regret this.