“And it looks like a fish.” Mayra snickered.
I nodded.
Mayra’s hands cupped the side of my face, and she brought our lips together for a moment.
“You’re adorable.”
I shrugged, felt my face heat up a little, but was then distracted by the exposure of the tops of her breasts and forgot to be embarrassed by any of it. Instead, I kissed them both as I pulled her bra away.
The feelings I experienced in the kitchen hadn’t dissipated. If anything, the emotions increased as Mayra’s clothing began to disappear. I knelt above her again as she shifted under me to unbutton and unzip her shorts. I watched her thumbs hook into the sides as she pushed them down over her hips and felt my cock respond to the sight.
Would she also get excited from watching me?
Again, I knelt over her. I watched her eyes follow my hand as I moved it over my stomach and to the buttons of my jeans. I popped the first one open, then the second, and immediately saw Mayra’s eyes widen as she ran her tongue across her lips.
“Do you like that?” I asked her. My voice had taken on a strange, husky tone. I swallowed once, and then opened another button. “Do you like watching me?”
“Shit, Matthew…”
Her chest rose and fell, and she didn’t have to say any more. I pulled the final button through the loop and pushed my jeans slightly off my hips—just enough to reach in and pull my cock out of my boxers. Mayra let out a long breath as she reached for me. I took her hand in mine and wrapped her fingers around my shaft.
She stroked me as I pushed my jeans and boxers off, only letting go so I could shift them the rest of the way down my legs. We finished by removing her panties together and then spent a moment just looking at each other.
“You’re so beautiful,” I told her as I reached out and ran my fingers over her neck and chest and then down to her stomach. My hand dropped lower, cupping her and using my thumb to stroke over her clit, just like she had taught me.
“And you are incredible,” she replied. “Everything about you just…surprises me.”
“Is that good?”
“Definitely.”
“Are you, uh…”—I had to stop and swallow hard to keep speaking—“…are you ready?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice dropping in tone as her cheeks darkened. “Please.”
I reached over and opened the top nightstand drawer, pulling out the string of condoms and wondering why I hadn’t detached them all beforehand.
“Prepared for a long night?” Mayra chuckled.
“Most definitely,” I replied. I pulled one of the little squares away from the rest and held it up for Mayra to see the wording on the package.
“I hope these are okay,” I said softly. Mayra just nodded.
“Do you know how to put one on?” she asked.
“I think so,” I said. “I did a little…um…internet research on it this afternoon.”
I decided not to tell her about practicing on the bananas.
Holding the tipped end of the condom, I placed it over the head and then rolled it down. It got kind of caught up at one point but otherwise seemed to go on without much trouble. It felt a little strange and kind of confining, but I was a little too preoccupied with what was coming next to care too much.
“Are you ready?” I asked. “I mean…really ready?”
&
nbsp; “I’m ready,” Mayra responded. “Are you?”
“Yes.” I meant it, too. I didn’t have the slightest doubt.