Younger Than You Need

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At twenty-three years old, I never thought I’d be playing Twister…much less with a man twenty years my senior. When Sebastian had brought it up, I couldn’t believe he was serious. We were just kissing, and suddenly he’s up and on his feet, putting the whiskey we’d both partaken in away and suggesting a children’s game.

I said ‘yes’ because I didn’t want him to suggest going to bed, because at this point, with how set he was on ‘taking things slow’, I was sure to be sleeping in his daughter’s room instead of his.

No matter what he suggested, no matter how he tried to skirt the overwhelming tension between us, I was losing my virginity tonight. I had decided before the double shot of whiskey that I’d forced down my throat. My old Literature Professor, Sebastian Pennington was going to be my first.

There was no denying why us being together was a bad idea. Not only would it put suspicion on him at work since I had just graduated a few months prior, but he was also a friend of my father.

If Dad found out, he wouldn’t hesitate to make Sebastian disappear. He’s an Army Ranger and every first date I’d ever had where the boy came to pick me up, Dad was cleaning a rifle with a shovel placed purposefully nearby. He never had any issues letting me know that it was the ‘duty’ of a father with a pretty daughter to be protective.

Thankfully, he was deployed right now, but there was the worry in the back of my mind that if Sebastian and I became a thing that when he came back all hell would break loose.

The pros and cons of seducing Sebastian were interrupted when I followed him to the living room to set up the game. He began to take off his black dress shirt, the high thread count garment parting to reveal the simple cotton of a white beater. His nimble fingers deftly undid the buttons until a chiseled torso was hinted at.

I’d never seen Sebastian with anything less than a button down on and I couldn’t help but to stare at him as he shrugged off the shirt and threw it on the couch, his defined muscles moving beneath his undershirt. He obviously spent time on his physique—and I wanted to explore the fruits of his labor badly.

Once the coffee table and the large ottoman were out of the way and the game was set up, we began. We didn’t have a referee, so each of us called out a direction in turn.

Right hand red. Left foot blue. On and on.

On my turn, I saw an opportunity and decided to take it.

“Left hand yellow,” I say trying to keep my voice even, and inconspicuous. My arm snakes under him to the farther yellow circle and I end up with my chin on his shoulder.

Damn he smells nice.

Sebastian’s tanned skin is beneath my lips as I find myself peppering his shoulder with kisses while he settles his own hand on a yellow spot that won’t topple us now that we’re intertwined.

“This is fun,” I whisper against his shoulder and he shudders. I know it’s taking advantage, and I know he’s trying to be good but maybe with just a little push…

I crane my neck and lean into him a bit more so I can nibble on his ear lobe. The small bit of skin gets pulled gently and that seems to be the magic action: I get a groan in response.

“Right hand red,” he calls out. Poor Sebastian’s voice is strained, and he moves immediately to put his hand around my body, to continue what I’m sure he thought was going to be an innocent game.

However, the mixture of my weight against his, and the two large swigs of whiskey he had put him off-kilter. His left arm begins to shake and we both hit the tarp covered carpet.

I squeal in delight. Mostly at the position we’d ended up in, the two of us facing each other, my head on one of Sebastian’s large biceps. My head is swimming from the sudden change in position and I’m warmer than I should be for the thin bodycon dress I’m in.

“You’re right. This is fun.” He kisses the tip of my nose. I flush at the unexpectedly sweet gesture. I’m very fuzzy and his lips tingle, but it’s probably the alcohol.

The tarp moves with me as I scoot closer to Sebastian, and his reaction is to roll away onto his back. I’m not letting him get away that easily. I’ve been staring at this man in class for a year now, aching to feel him touch me, and to be able to touch him. So I scoot closer and throw a leg over his, my face nuzzling into his neck, the action bringing more tingles.

“The alcohol hit you, yet?” My response is a long hum of contentment as the tingles spread from my lips and nose down my body to pool low in my belly.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” he responds quieter—strained.

I want him. I want the tingles everywhere, so I clumsily push myself on top of him, my torso against his. The tautness of his abs tells me I’m putting him through hell right now, but I’m feeling selfish.

“You’re tingly.” A giggle erupts from me as I kiss his Adam’s apple. It bobs as he swallows, and I’m fascinated by the movement—how fluid it is. “Whenever I touch you, it tingles.” I kiss it again.

“I also didn’t expect https://www.izmitescortlarim.com/escort/izmit-rus-escort” title=”izmit rus escort”>izmit rus escort you to be so…chiseled. You always hid under sweaters and blazers in class. I could never tell…you’re like a statue,” I poke his chest. “I’m feeling the alcohol.”

Sebastian laughs, smiling up at me his slightly stained teeth from years of smoking flash at me and I giggle more along with him. His hands slide along my spandex dress making me shiver, and I think just for a second that I’ve won. That he’s going to make love to me and I’m going to finally have a part of him with me forever if this doesn’t turn into something more.

My hopes are dashed when he lifts me off him, his head turning from me. I wonder why his gaze is downturned until I realize that my dress has ridden up far enough that apex of my thighs is visible.

“Maybe we should change into pajamas.”

What?

I stick out my bottom lip in an exaggerated pout and ‘humph’. He’s serious about this trying to ‘take things slow’ thing. We’d spoken briefly at the party I accompanied him to about the two of us dating. The interest was there on both parts, despite the issue of my father, but he said he wanted to do right by me first and foremost.

Whatever that means.

“You’ll be more comfortable,” Sebastian continues.

“Fine,” I sigh and push myself to stand, the plastic beneath me sticking to my knees as I rise.

“Ellie should have something you can wear,” I hear as I walk off, already headed in the direction of the stairs that would lead me to his daughter’s room. She and I were acquaintances in college, but never really hung out more than a couple times.

I disappear up the stairs and to the dark landing where there are two doors to choose from—the bathroom and Ellie’s room. I know I’ll be making a trip to both, but I head left into Elli’s private space to search for something that I can wear that will be ‘more comfortable’.

The dresser’s door is left open, probably from her packing to go visit her mother out of state, and it gives me exactly what I need. Different pajama sets, with matching tops and bottoms.

I couldn’t even find matching socks, let alone care enough to match my pajamas, but I thought looking put together would only help my case, so I grab from the drawer based off color. And the shiny emerald green fabric in the back is speaking to me.

The set is satin and lace, a tank top and shorts that once I manage to strip my dress off hug my body nearly as tight as the dress. The silk against my slit feels amazing after all the teasing and tension with Sebastian. I sigh and rub my thighs together, enjoying the jolt I get in return.

I pull the top on next, and it fits well enough. It’s a bit loose around the middle, but I guess that’s where ‘comfortable’ comes in. Ellie carries a bit more weight around her middle so I’m sure that it fits her better than it does me.

The full-length mirror she has in the corner of her room must be from a fun house, because I look curvy. My reflection is making me feel sexy for once. I don’t know if it’s because the emerald satin feels like armor in a way, but I’m ready to face Sebastian again.

Stairs and alcohol are not a good mix. I end up stumbling down the last three steps on my way to the master bedroom where I’m sure Sebastian is hiding since the living room is empty. I pad down the hall barefoot and stop outside his door and am about to knock when I hear soft groans and heavy breathing.

Is he…

“Naomi…” Sebastian’s voice is breathy.

He’s masturbating. He’s thinking of me and touching himself.

I shouldn’t go in there…should I? I mean…he seems pretty set on taking things slow. Every advance I’d made he turned me down or diverted to something else—trying to be the gentleman, so I knew he was serious.

But hearing him as he touched himself…I could feel myself getting wetter. I was already sensitive from the satin touching my slit, but now? God—I needed stimulation.

So I leaned back against the wall next to his door, the cool of the cream colored paint chilling me slightly as I eased against it, my hand sliding below the fabric of the borrowed sleep shorts to find my clit that was begging to be touched.

I sighed as I felt the familiar jolt. My back arched from the drywall as my fingers brushed over my clit. The gentle touch wasn’t enough. I craved hard stimulation. A slender finger runs along my sit to gather moisture and I let out a sigh.

The newly wet digit circles the bud putting pressure exactly where it needs to be and I have to suppress my urge to make any noise. I didn’t want to out myself and have Sebastian peg me as a closet pervert.

My body rolls back to the wall and off it again as my need for pressure changes. My fingers are working quicker now, and my breath is coming hard and fast. I can feel the cool of the wet satin on the back of my fingers as I stroke myself again to get more moisture to my clit, and I know I’ll have to get new pajamas before I see Sebastian.

In https://www.izmitescortlarim.com/” title=”izmit escort”>izmit escort my mind its Sebastian touching me. I’m panting softly, my bottom lip caught between my teeth as I continue to struggle to keep quiet. As much as I know we want each other, there’s still something super embarrassing about him possibly catching me masturbating outside his door.

My focus is there—on the sweet sensation between my legs and keeping quiet—so much so that I don’t realize I’ve been caught until he speaks:

“Fucking hell, Naomi.” My hand freezes and I stop breathing, waiting for him to say something about how this is inappropriate. Instead, he gets close, his body trapping me against the wall.

“Naomi, look at me while you do that,” comes a soft order. I don’t move my head—worried it’ll break whatever spell this is, so I look up at him, blinking at him through dark lashes as my hand slowly starts its ministrations on my clit once more.

I whine. The feelings haven’t ebbed at all—and having Sebastian so close is making the butterflies in my stomach go crazy. I hear the rustle of fabric as he moves his pajama pants out of the way, and then the sound of skin on skin. His eyes shut tight.

The urge to kiss him while he’s doing that hits me. Even if it’s all we do, I want him with me while I come, but as I lean forward, he swears and opens his eyes They’re gorgeous, intelligent and focused on my lips.

I wet them with my tongue at a leisurely pace before I move in and brush my lips against his.

Sebastian snaps.

I guess it was so long to ‘taking things slow’ because instead of shirking my advance like he did with all the others, he pulls me from the wall to his hard body and kisses me with ill-veiled desperation. I respond in kind, my lips opening into a moan at the flood of emotions running though me.

“Do…do you want this?”

Sebastian’s lips travel down my neck and I pick back up rubbing my clit. I stopped when he grabbed me out of pure shock, but now that the friction was back sending waves of pleasure through me, along with the slight scratch of his lips, I was in heaven.

“I’ve wanted this all night,” I pant. “I’ve wanted you all night, Sebastian. Before the alcohol I decided this was what I wanted. I’m sorry—I just—I was going to wait in the living room, but I heard my name and…I thought this was as close as I was going to get.”

The nails of my free hand dig into his shoulders as he continues to ravage my neck. It feels criminally good and I’m hoping that he doesn’t back down again.

There’s a long moment of hesitation where he ceases his assault on my neck, and I no longer hear his hand moving up and down on his shaft. He just stands there, his breath hot on my neck and I know he’s debating on if he should continue this.

“Please.”

Swiftly, Sebastian sets into action, pulling my hand from my clit and brings me against his hard body, his erection trapped between us, and not having looked, but being able to feel it, I gasp.

The older man bends and picks me up bridal style, carrying me through the door to his room, kicking the door closed with his heel.

I smile at him tenderly, nuzzling his chin as we cross the cavernous room. He lays me down on the bed, being exceedingly careful with me in doing so. It’s the care he takes with me that makes me feel like this could work. He actually thinks of me as something more than a conquest—and he shows it in small, endearing ways.

I cup Sebastian’s cheek as he works his hands under the bottom of the green satin top, moving my arms up over my head just in time as he pulls the garment from me. My shorts follow soon after, both pieces ending up far on the other side of the room.

“Fucking…” he breaths and pulls his bottoms, leaving us both bare in front of each other. Him looking me over like I’m the only woman in the world is heady and makes me tremble a bit as I scoot into the center of the mattress. My cheeks betray my feelings, turning pink while I watch him climb onto the bed next to me.

Rough fingertips run over the skin of my stomach, giving rise to goosebumps. They travel up and onto my ribs to cup one of my breasts and push it up making it look fuller than it is.

Sebastian leans down and takes that nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the rosy peak. It’s a slow process and the entire time I feel movement, the air is filled with my breathy groan. I lean his direction, so he doesn’t have to go as far as he continues to bat the bud with his tongue.

“God, Naomi. You drive me insane.” He says when he finally stops teasing me. I’m pulled closer by the small of my back with a growl, his cock pressing into my belly. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t stop touching me,” he urges.

Tentatively I put my hand on his bare hip. Though I’ve wanted this moment, I’m suddenly not feeling bold enough to go straight to where I’m sure he wants my hand to be. A blunted nail runs over the protrusion of his hip bone, and Sebastian shudders in response, biting down gently on my shoulder.

I https://www.izmitescortlarim.com/escort/kocaeli-escort” title=”kocaeli escort”>kocaeli escort trail my touch over his stomach and up to his chest, finally able to feel his muscles without a barrier. I moan as my back bends to give him room to touch my breasts again, something he takes full advantage of.

The way his lips work over my chest creates a want in me—a want to feel the member that’s pulsing against my abdomen and my hand immediately seeks it out. I’m light in my touch at first, my fingertips grazing over the veins and ridges there, as I cherish the noise he makes.

I want to keep touching him like this as long as he’ll let me. I want to get to know his cock better, and make him feel as on fire as I am. Every kiss, nip and suck on my breasts pools between my legs, and I rub my thighs together to get some sort of stimulation.

“Goddammit, Naomi,” Sebastian groans and thrusts under my hand. I’m finally feeling ready to feel the girth of him in my palm, when he rolls me onto my back making me squeal and giggle breathlessly at the surge of strength. I like knowing he can throw me around like this.

Sebastian gets between my legs, and I can see the head of his cock near my mound…and then he moves and the tip of him touches my clit making me whimper. The thing barely brushed me and I was so ready just from that small touch.

I run my hands through his short blonde hair and pull gently at the strands, trying to silently beckon him inside me.

“I want you.” Sebastian kisses me and hesitation is present. Why? We’ve gotten this far—he was positioned to do the damn thing. I’m pulled from the moment, beginning to worry that he’ll back down again.

His lips trail down my neck back to my chest, lavishing my breasts with attention. Each nipple is worshiped separately making me mewl and pant. It’s not enough—and I know what I need…I’m just too scared to say it.

Then both my nipples are left to the cold air. He’s moved lower to my stomach, his slight stubble tickling my sensitive skin, and as soon as he realizes it makes me squirm, he purposefully runs his chin along my abdomen, moving lower still.

What?

No…no, no. I’m not sure about the oral thing, at least on me. I’m not…well…I hadn’t gone into today expecting company, so I’m not as trimmed as normal, and I’m just…God, I’m—

A slippery tongue touches my clit and I scream, trying to scramble back across the bed. It felt almost too good, bordering on painful and I wasn’t sure if I could handle any more of it.

“Nomi,” Sebastian grumbles and pulls me back by my hips. He lays a heavy arm over my stomach to hold me still and lowers his head once more to lick my most private area.

My eyelids flutter closed as I feel his lips suck and pull gently at my folds. I try and shut out my worry over what he might be thinking of how I look and concentrate on the tongue that’s now batting at my clit.

My brain turns to TV snow, and my hips, though kept from moving away, are given leeway to grind against his mouth.

“Fuck you taste amazing,” he groans between laps at my slit. The alternation of a gentle pointed tongue and a broad hard stroke is driving me wild. My hands grip the deep navy bedspread, pulling at the fabric to find some outlet for the wave of sensations I was being saddled with.

“Sebastian—fuck—I, ohhhh…”

I’m going to come soon. Hard. It’s going to be soon because at the rate Sebastian’s expert tongue is moving mercilessly against my skin, I stand no chance. I’m not ready for it—I want the build to last longer, to enjoy the ride more. So I say the only thing I can think of that would make him stop:

“Please,” I gasp, “I want to come on your cock,” my voice turns into a needy whine.

My lover’s tongue slows, and the precise movements he was making before now seem arbitrary. I lift my head and look down at him. Sebastian’s heavy brows are pinched together.

He’s thinking it over. There might be a chance that he won’t fuck me, and the TV snow melts away leaving me feeling desperate to get my way.

“Please,” I say again. I need to feel him in me, and I don’t know where it comes from—I just know its there and that it scares me.

His head lifts and is see his mouth and chin shine with my juices, his eyes bore into mine over downturned lips.

“Please.”

Sebastian takes pity on me rising to his hands and knees to crawl up along my body so his cock is once again brushing my pussy. My hand makes contact with the back of his head to pull him down for a kiss, unbothered by the taste of myself on his lips.

“It’s okay,” I assure him when we part.

My only response is the feeling of the head of his cock against my entrance. I grin nervously as my time as a virgin is about to come to an end at the hands of my father’s friend.

My nerves are justified. Sebastian begins to enter me with his thick cock and it hurts. It hurts a lot—but I don’t dare make a face of pain. I make sure to stay deadly silent because I know if I whimper, he’ll back out.

I knew from friend’s stories that it was normal for a first time to hurt, so that didn’t worry me—but I knew it worried Sebastian. His eyes flitted around as he searched for any sign he should stop, and I refused to give him one.

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