His eyes droop. “I don’t want this to be like that.”

I immediately regret my words. “That came out all wrong. I just want the painful part to be over with.”

“I don’t want to hurt you at all.”

“But you might not be able to help it.”

His hand moves between us and he rubs me a bit. Then he pushes himself in my opening. A little at a time he enters me, and then he stops. His forehead creases as he strains to hold himself in check. I can tell it’s difficult for him.

I want to get to the good part, but I know this part has to happen first. I’ve heard friends talk about it. So I’m as prepared as I’m going to be. “You know the Nike slogan?”

He looks at me like I’m nuts. “Yeah, why?”

“Just do it, Drew.”

His mouth curves up.

“Go on,” I urge.

One hand reaches under me and I already see the apology in his eyes. And then he thrusts. No, it’s more like a serious ram. Once, twice and then he’s in. And holy motherfucker it stings like fire. He stills and I know it’s because I’ve turned into marble. Frozen in time. I can’t move. I just want to lie there until the pain goes away. He makes all these little calming noises, but I don’t hear them for a second or two. I bite my lips to keep from howling. But then the pain eases off and after another minute or two or three, it finally slips away. I slowly come back to my senses.

“Deep breath, sweetheart. Come on. Just one,” he says.

I breathe. And my body relaxes. I do it again and I feel better and better.

Then I notice he’s rubbing my face, my forehead, and pressing tiny kisses all over me.

“You better?” he asks.

“Yeah. I am. Do you think you can move?” When he starts to roll off of me, I stop him by grabbing his face and I smile. “No, not that kind of move. I mean move inside of me.”

“You’re sure?” he asks tentatively.

Still smiling, I say, “I’m very sure.”

His lips skim mine. “You don’t hurt?”

“Not now.”

He starts to test the waters. And while I have to say I’m not completely pain free, it’s more soreness than actual pain. So I tell him.

“Thank god. I was afraid I’d really hurt you.”

I shake my head. “I’m good. For a minute there, it wasn’t great, but now, I’m fine.”

Slowly he increases his pace until he moves in earnest. He lifts his body a little, but only enough to slide his arm between us. Then I feel his fingers on my clit and everything intensifies. Throughout all this, I can’t help but watch him. Even though the sensations I’m experiencing are awesome, observing him is a sensuous journey in itself and I respond to that, too. Before long, I am caught up in everything—Drew, the sounds he makes, the way he looks and feels against my skin and inside of me, and the way he reacts to me. And before I know what’s happening, I’m tumbling, falling as I orgasm and he calls out my name as he follows.

My hands are molded to his ass and I didn’t even know I’d put them there. I release the pressure on them and smooth my hands over his cheeks, then I roam up the wide sea of his back. His muscles tense beneath my fingers but my eyes dig into his, bright blue with deeper striations. They remind me of the ocean on a clear spring day. “Kiss me, Drew.”

He does, beginning at one corner of my mouth, playing with my upper and lower lip. His tongue darts in and out of my mouth. He’s an artful kisser, doing all sorts of lovely things with his tongue. All of a sudden he rolls over and I’m on top.

“I want you this way, next time. I want to see you ride me, Cate. With your head thrown back and your hair tumbling all over the place. Tell me I didn’t hurt you too much. I know you already said it, but I need to hear it again.” He takes my hand and kisses each fingertip.

“At first it stung more than hurt, and then it went away. But then … I had an amazing orgasm.”

“I could tell. I felt it when you came.”

“You did?” This fascinates the hell out of me. “Tell me.”

“You squeezed me. In sequences. Like a song keeping tempo.” What a nice way to put it.

I’m riding on a post sex high and I love how I don’t feel awkward with Drew like I did with the dickwad. It feels so good that I can just be honest about how I feel.

“I love the way you sound when you come.” I’m sure my face is pink when I say this.

“Hmmm. Then I’ll have to come more often, won’t I?”

He makes me feel empowered that I could get him there. Still, I’m a bit shy when I say, “I suppose so.”

“But right now, I need to pull out of you and get rid of this condom, even though it’s the last thing I want to do.”

“Right. I guess it’s the smart thing to do.” I shimmy off him and let him up. And I miss him immediately. I hear the toilet flush and the water running. Then he’s back with a smile, a glass, and something in the other hand.

“What’s this?”

“Ibuprofen. I don’t want you to be sore.”

“Thanks.” I swallow the pills.

He pulls me back on top of him. “I’d like to make you come again and again, but I don’t want you to be any more sore than you already are.”

“I think you’re making a bigger deal out of this than is necessary.”

“No, I’m not. Besides, I have to get up early for my shift.” He rubs my back and I purr.

“Okay, I’ll give you a pass then.”

“Cate, you need to go use the restroom.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“No, sweetheart, you do.”

Lifting my head so I can look at him, I ask, “Why’s that?”

He cups my cheek and says, “For a couple of reasons. One, it’s a great idea to do that after sex. It prevents bladder infections. I could give you my professional explanation, but I don’t think you need that right now. And two, when you get to the bathroom, you’ll see why.”

And then it hits me. Blood. Fuck! How embarrassing. He sees my reaction and says, “Don’t you dare be embarrassed by this. It was beautiful and amazing and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Now go before I take you myself.”

Scrambling out of the bed, I scurry into the bathroom and when I look at my thighs, I screech. In less than a few seconds, the door busts open and he’s in there with me.

“Can I just tell you something? A little blood goes a long way. What looks like a whole lot on you there, is only a little bit. Calm down and why don’t we get in the shower?”

I shake my head and say, “Okay. But let me use the bathroom first and then put my hair up.”

He walks out and I use the facilities. Then I call him back in and he enters while I’m twisting my hair up in an elastic.

He turns on the shower and when the temperature is right, we get in. He squirts some shower gel in his hands and rubs them together. “May I?”

“Yes.” How can I say no?

Before I know what’s happening, he spins me around and pulls me back against him. “You’re so gorgeous, Cate.” Then, soapy hands dip between my thighs and gently wash me. He slides them all over and back between us, all around to make sure all the blood is washed away. Then he turns me back around and lets the shower rinse the suds away. He lathers up again and washes the rest of my body.

When he’s finished, I say, “My turn.” I mimic everything he did. It’s kind of funny because when his back is to me, he’s so much taller than I am, I feel like a little kid. But my hands reach around and take hold of his erect cock. His arms stretch out to brace himself on the wall. I work the lather all around him, and he moans. This may turn into something way more than a shower. As I turn him back around, the look on his face has me moaning, too.

“Drew.”

“Cate.”

“I want you.”

“No. You’ll hurt too much tomorrow.”

“I should be the judge of that. Not you.”

“Not in here. No condoms.”

I look up at him, and then down at his erection. My mind is made up. I drop to my knees and put my mouth on him. He’s large, but not ridiculously huge like you read about in those romance novels. His cock doesn’t jut out and reach his chest, meaning it’s not eighteen inches long. No, thank god. I would run screaming from this shower if it did. But it is large and thick. Just perfectly pretty. A nice tawny shade with a lovely mushroom cap on top. And he feels like velvet.