The Bacelor: Make A Sex Deal

And I couldn’t breathe.

Tears were bubbling at the corners of my eyes.

“Oaklyn …” He was moving my face, lowering my chin until we were eye-level. “I know, baby. Just a few more inches, and you’re there.”

His softness.

Tenderness.

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This was when I needed it the most, and he was giving it to me.

Everything he had told me he wasn’t.

But he was.

“More,” I said, trying to hide the emotion from my voice, trying to stop the tears from dripping. “Give it all to me.”

He was mindful of the way he was making me feel, but he did just as I’d asked.

“Breathe.”

I listened to his voice, the tears soaking my skin as they dripped from the sides of my eyes.

“I’m not going to move. I’m going to stay just like this until you’re ready.”

I had all of him now, and I could feel myself pulsing around him.

My body wasn’t used to this foreign thickness or length, so much larger than the half of a finger or tampon that it got regularly.

And even though the hot flames were still there, they didn’t get worse. In fact, as the seconds passed, they lightened just the smallest bit.

“Look at you. Handling me so well. And how many times did I say you wouldn’t be able to?”

I knew what he was doing, and I appreciated it.

But I couldn’t laugh.

I couldn’t speak.

All I could do was breathe, and I wasn’t doing a very good job at that.

“Your pussy is vibrating against me.”

I nodded, the final tear falling, the sound that escaped me letting him know I could feel it too. And when enough time passed, when the pain just started to subside, I said in my lowest voice, “Make me feel good, Camden. Make me somehow forget about all this pain.”

He kissed across both cheeks, licking away my tears. “Baby …”

My entire body tensed, waiting for the hurt to return as he glided back toward his tip, almost fully pulling out of me, and then he sank right back in.

It was there, a dull gnawing, a sharpness that I’d never forget, but it didn’t increase like I’d anticipated.

It stayed consistent.

And it was that consistency that I began to get used to.

“Ah.” The reaction that came out of me wasn’t drawn out, but it was raw. “Oh fuck.”

His forehead pressed against mine. “Nothing has ever felt as fucking incredible as you.”

My fingers were on his shoulder.

Biting.

Stabbing as he moved out and buried back in. Each time, I held all the air in my lungs, counting down the seconds for the moment he’d promised. The one where there was even a hint of pleasure. And even though his lips were on mine and his body leaned up, his hand trickling down my navel until it landed on my clit, I was still searching for that feeling.

It didn’t happen immediately.

It took multiple swipes of my clit until I finally felt it.

Maybe it was just that friction, the combination that my body desired.

Maybe I really was getting used to his size.

But the tears had dried, and my breathing wasn’t nearly as labored, and I pulled my nails out of his shoulder.

“Mmm. Fuck yes. You’re starting to feel it.”

He didn’t ask.

He knew.

“Yes.” I swallowed. “It’s getting better.”

“You know, I could make this last all night, and, fuck me, I wouldn’t be opposed to that at all, not with how good you feel. But you’re going to be sore, and all that would do is torture you and get you to hate this. So, I’m going to make you come, and then I’m going to carry you into the shower and clean you up.”

Each stroke caused my head to hit the pillow. “Make me come.” I needed that passion to fill me, that release, since all of this had hurt so much. “Make me come, Camden.”

His thumb was grazing my clit, like his tongue had done earlier, and there was a burst that started to kindle in my pussy.

The muscles in his chest were constricting, his abs tightening. The sight was so hot and provocative that it was almost enough to get me off.

“You’re getting wetter.”

I could feel it.

But his hand was giving me what I needed.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned. “You’re going to make me come too.” He leaned up more, his other hand now on my nipple. Pinching. Flicking. “Is that what you want, Oaklyn? You want me to come? You want me to fill your fucking pussy so I drip out of you?”

My head nodded over the pillow. “Please.” I sucked in more air, the fluttering strengthening, spreading. “Please, Camden.”

“Fuuuck.” He was going faster. Harder. “A few more pumps, baby, and I’m going to be shooting my cum into you.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the warning, but once his words processed in my head, the thought of running out of time, not getting a chance to come before he pulled out, made me completely lose it.

Shivers exploded through my body. The shudders were next, a build that was far more intense than when he’d been licking me. And it was all driving through me, giving me that release that I desperately needed.

“Camden!” I screamed, my fingers digging into his skin. “Yes!”

“Ah, fuck me, watching you come is so hot.” His caresses turned a little harder. “It’s my turn.” His sounds became grunts, his movements more dominant until he slowed with just heavy spikes of motion. “Oaklyn, fuck! Yes!”

As I reached the peak and began to come down, I watched the orgasm move across his face, the pleasure morphing into the most sensual expression. I could even feel the wetness gathering inside me, his cum mixing with mine as his thrusts slowed and eventually stopped.

I ran my hands over his chest and down his stomach, my body relieved when he began to carefully pull out.

The moment his tip left me, that was when I saw all the red.