Sarah
“Spread your legs. I’m fucking hungry,” Horse demanded. He was so dirty. I felt like in any other moment I would have blushed, but in this moment, I licked my lips and happily did as I was told. When I planned my seduction, I didn’t anticipate that he would want to taste me. When I was in middle school, I heard some boys talking about how vaginas smelled like tuna fish. So I always thought that oral sex was a thing guys did out of obligation. But when I parted my knees, the look on Horse’s face was awe sprinkled with a dash of animalistic need.
He touched me with his fingers first. Almost in a daze, he reached forward and ran his fingertips over my mound. Gently stroking me, with reverence, he growled, “Mmm… so sexy.”
Then he dropped to his knees and buried his face between my legs. Like it had been on my nipples, the first kiss of his beard felt rough, and then I felt the cool silk of his tongue on my clit. The sensation was explosive. Did all men do this to their women? Why did they ever leave the house? It was like my entire body was alive for the first time… like I had magic running through my veins. And for the first time in as long as I could remember, I cursed—and loudly. I practically screamed, “Oh, holy motherfucking fuck.”
Between my legs, Horse laughed, a deep barrel-chested laugh that vibrated from his lips to my core. The vibrations intensified the sensation and curses blurted from my mouth again. “Fuck, yes.”
All I could hear was him. All I could feel was him. All I could see was him, and he was all I ever wanted to know. Aching to come, I begged for more. “Please, Horse, I...” I didn’t really know what I needed, but I needed something. “I need… something.”
Grinning, he released his hold on my vagina and stood. “I think you need my cock.”
Yes. That was so what I needed. My lips curled up in a sexy and wry smile. Giddy with need, I goofed, “Cock me, baby.”
As he pulled down his underwear and pants, he groaned. “I can’t believe you just said cock. Who are you?”
“Sex-pot Sarah. She’s bolder than me. She wants to fuck you.”
“What about sweet Sarah?” he said as I watched him roll the condom on. “Does she want my cock too?”
I nodded vigorously. “Only, she calls it a penis.”
“Well, open up that penis fly trap, baby, because I’m coming in,” he joked.
I loved him. I didn’t say it, but I thought it. He grabbed me by the hips and pulled me to him. There wasn’t a whole lot of fanfare because why would there be? He didn’t know this was my first time. He lined himself up at my opening and pushed inside. The sensation was both odd and incredible. There was no pain. I’m not sure if that was a myth or if all my years of riding horses made me different. Mostly, I felt full of him. It was like having a baseball bat between my legs, only like a super sexy baseball bat.
“Sarah,” he moaned. “You’re so fucking tight.” I could see the pleasure on his face. His jaw was tight. His eyes were closed. He was shaking with need. He was moving between my legs but slowly, so slowly. He was holding back, waiting for something. I didn’t want that. I wanted to know the most primal version of him.
“Don’t,” I pleaded.
“Don’t what?” he bit out through a clenched jaw.
“Don’t hold back. Fuck me.”
Permission was all he needed. He unleashed his beast and started to fuck. He heaved me up and turned me a bit so I was on my side. Then he pounded into my pussy like he owned it, and he said, “Touch your clit for me, Sarah; let me see you come.”
I wove my hand between my legs and stroked. With him inside me and my own fingers outside, I spiraled quickly toward release. Like the night before, I felt the need to make noise, to moan, only today there was no reason to contain that noise, so I let loose. Every sound I made seemed to egg on his pleasure. I felt myself clenching everywhere like I had the night before.
“That’s it. Yes, do it now. Come for me, Sarah.”
If you’d asked me, I never would have guessed that someone telling me what to do would turn me on. But I liked it when he told me to spread my legs and when he told me to touch my clit, and now, when he commanded me to come, I did. A crest of heat flared up my spine, and then I shattered and shook, my body overtaken by waves of toe-clenching pleasure. Above me, he groaned, and then with one more hard pump, he clamped his hands tight into the flesh of my ass and thigh and let go. He was silent as he came. I’d heard women make jokes about their men’s ‘O’ faces as if they were ridiculous, laughable. Horse didn’t look silly at all. There was tension in his brow, but he looked free. Freer than I’d ever seen him, like in this one moment with me, he put down the burden of his grief and felt alive.
My heart soared as he relaxed and shifted my body a second time so I was again on my back. Then he collapsed on my chest. He was out of breath and sweaty. He wrapped his arms around me and pushed his scruffy face into my sternum. I palmed the little hairs on his head. We basked quietly in the afterglow for a few minutes, and then he huffed out, “You’re amazing.”
“Thank you.” I grinned. “You are too.” I wanted to tell him that he was more than amazing. I wanted to tell him that he was the most amazing man, that I’d never met a man I liked more. I wanted to tell him I loved him, but I didn’t.
He popped his head up and smiled at me, a twinkle in his eye. “I like your pussy, Sarah Morgan. Can I spend more time with it? Like a lot more time?”
I giggled and I meant to be cheeky, but instead, I just said, “Yes, you may.”
His expression dropped. “I hate to fuck and run, but they have to be looking for me by now. We have an amp out and no one to tune the guitars.”
I wasn’t offended; I knew I’d distracted him from his work.
“You could do that. You could tune the guitars,” I offered.
He stood and started buckling his pants. I sat up and then stood up, shimmying my skirt down.
“That’s what Stew said,” Horse grumbled while passing me my t-shirt.
I took it and pulled it over my head. When my arms and face were free of the fabric, I spoke softly, “Touching a guitar isn’t a sin, Horse. It’s just a task. It won't bite you.”
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. When he kissed me, I could smell myself on his lips.
“I’ll think about it,” he said. “I have to go.”
I nodded.
He walked to the door backwards, and with his back pressed to it and the handle in his hand, he said, “Just so you know. I’m all about fraternizing with you.”
“Me too.”
“And, Sarah…”
“Yes?”
“Go put some panties on.” He winked.
I laughed, and then with one more smile, he was gone and I was left standing in the dank meter room, which would forever be the place where I gifted myself my virginity.