The Indomitable Rory CallahanChapter 19
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With lunch cleared away, we settled on the sofa and multitasked. Rory watched TV while texting on her Smartphone. I read a book and kept an eye on Rory.
She’d changed.
All morning Rory had been quiet, her eyes contemplating me. The edge to her personality was missing, that spark of wit. I was worried sex with her had changed our relationship, that it might have been a mistake - a step too far. I liked her softness, but I preferred the dangerous panther more.
To top it off, sex hadn’t been a toe-curling experience for her. My fault. I’d cum way too fast. Rory hadn’t even had time to adjust and find pleasure before I was done. It wasn’t my finest hour.
How could I make things right?
RORY SHIFTED ON THE sofa and winced. She was sore. Out of the corner of her eye, she studied Ethan. He was behaving weirdly. Was he disappointed with her? She knew he’d cum. She’d felt it; his erection swelling and pulsing inside her and his groans of pleasure. She’d felt him soften inside her, too.
Rory shifted again. Unbelievably, despite being sore, she felt a stir of arousal. She wasn’t a virgin anymore! Rory smiled to herself. She had a lover now! She didn’t regret it, so why did Ethan?
Her phone vibrated - a text message. She responded to Susie, promising to meet tomorrow.
Staring at the TV, her mind mulled over this morning. She really hadn’t expected sex to hurt that much. The sharp stabs of pain had been intense and caught her off guard. Feeling Ethan inside her, completely inside her, was strange. She’d felt stuffed, stretched. Why did Ethan’s erection feel huge inside her? So much bigger than when she’d held it in her hand? She’d known at that point, with him inside her, she’d never be able to climax. She was too nervous and too preoccupied with new feelings bombarding her. Her mind had raced, too, “I’m having sex with Ethan!” echoing around inside her head.
To her, the best part was having Ethan on top of her, his comfortable weight pressing her down, and hugging his naked body to her. It had been so exciting, being loved, intimacy like she’d never known, and she wanted to experience it again.
Every time she looked at Ethan today, she had a sigh that she couldn’t get out, her heart thumping, an ache in her body.
But, why was he so quiet? Hadn’t it been good for him? Was he disappointed in her for not cumming? Had she done it wrong? Not been responsive enough? She’d waited for him to say something, anything really.
Doubts assailed her. She hated doubting herself. She hated not speaking her mind, too.
Steeling herself, she broke the awkward silence and asked, “Was it bad for you?”
Ethan’s eyes opened wide with surprise.
“Sex. With me,” she added.
His eyes softened, sexy, warm. “God, no, Rory. It was fantastic.”
“So why are you behaving weird?”
Ethan put his book down. “I didn’t make it very good for you, did I? I was too excited. You felt too good. I came too fast; before you even had a chance to enjoy it.”
Surprised, Rory exclaimed, “Wow! You’re SO dense!”
“Huh?”
“Did you really think I’d climax after that pain? Did you think not hugging me today, or kissing me, I’d feel secure about what we did?”
“Rory...”
“I’m not finished! I loved making love with you. I’ve dreamed about it for long enough and, even if I didn’t cum, it was amazing. You’ve been so quiet, I thought you regretted it. You’re an idiot!”
Ethan grinned at her.
Rory got angry. “What’re you grinning at? You’ve shown me no affection all morning.”
Ethan laughed.
“What?! Now I’m funny?”
Ethan, laughing, shook his head. “No. You’re spectacular, Rory. Utterly spectacular. You’re the one who’s been quiet all morning. I thought you were regretting it. You’ve been behaving differently and I was worried you’d changed. Clearly you haven’t. I’m so relieved.”
Rory crossed her arms and frowned. “That’s no excuse. I was worried.”
“Come here,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling.
Rory, feeling much better but refusing to let him off the hook, sat astride his lap and frowned at him. His eyes were so blue, so intense, the crinkles of a smile at the corners so sexy.
She studied his mouth, so male and kissable.
He pulled her close and kissed her gently. His scent filled her lungs. His lips were warm and soft, and all resistance melted away. She kissed him, pressing her mouth to his, her hands on his shoulders. The kiss changed with a touch of his tongue and Rory felt that sinking sensation, arousal returning. She tasted him and murmured with pleasure, then tilted her head slightly and opened her mouth, the kiss passionate, her heart beating harder.
When it ended, she sighed with relief and dropped her forehead to his shoulder. He hugged her, then kissed her neck, tickling her. His mouth moved to her ear and nibbled her earlobe. It was so sexy! So arousing, too!
Too arousing. Her pussy pulsed with a need to be touched. Her breasts responded, aching slightly. Suddenly, she was really horny.
“Damn!”
“What?” he whispered in her ear.
“Now I’m horny. Don’t kiss me like that!”
Ethan chuckled. “I can fix it. Get up and turn around.”
Rory stood and turned, unsure of what he planned.
“Drop your shorts,” he instructed.
“I thought you were going to help me, not give yourself a show.”
He laughed. “Drop your shorts, Rory.”
She pushed them down. They fell to her ankles. She kicked them off while pulling her panties back up over her ass.
“Now sit on my lap.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw his eyes twinkling with mischief. She settled slowly, her legs forced to the outside of his.
Ethan reached around her and pulled her back to lie against him. His hand settled over her T-shirt right on her breast. “Just relax,” he said softly, nuzzling her neck again.
He caressed her bare thigh, kissed her neck, whispered, “Close your eyes,” and his hand dropped to the inside of her thigh.
Rory closed her eyes. Senses changed. His hand tickled as it caressed and excited as it edged higher. Her body responded, heat arriving, lust and need.
She almost moaned when he carefully caressed her breast and mentally begged him to squeeze it, make the ache go away. Then she inhaled deeply when his hand cupped her pussy over her panties.
“I’m sore,” she murmured.
“Shhh.”
Ethan traced her slit sending small chills through her. He squeezed her breast and she moaned quietly - it felt so good! His breath was warm against her neck, his lips soft. Her stomach flipped when he murmured, “Mmmm.”
Very slowly, arousal gained strength. Her pussy throbbed and she felt herself become moist, like a wave of horniness. Ethan reached down and slipped his hand under her T-shirt, caressing her skin and, as his hand moved up slowly, anticipation built, body tensing. She sighed with pleasure when he cupped her bare breast and inhaled sharply when he lightly pinched her nipple. Suddenly, she was hot, her body alive and tingling.
Ethan tugged her nipple sending sparks of pleasure through her, then squeezed her breast, warmth spreading. In her mind’s eye, she felt his hand on her pussy move up, his fingertips toying with the waist. In her mind, she begged him to continue, “Yes, touch me!”
Then he murmured, “You have the sexiest body, Rory. I can’t seem to get enough of it.”
Before she could speak, his hand eased inside her panties, over her pubes, and cupped her pussy. His hand was so large, warm, the pressure so arousing. She loved being touched this way; gentle, intimate.
His finger traced up her cleft and touched her clit. She shuddered, her legs twitching to close. Sensations bombarded her; his caressing her breast, his finger teasing her clit, his palm pressing against her pussy, and his lips kissing her neck. Heat washed through her. Her pussy throbbed, and an ache emerged deep in her belly, a yearning for sweet release.
Breathing harder, she trembled, so horny now. Her heart raced. She held onto his forearm. Her body jerked, then moved, rocking on his lap, curling her pussy slightly in time with his strokes. She panted and moaned quietly at the pleasure washing over her, intense, concentrated, so incredible!
For minutes, she lost herself in his caress and her body’s response, hot and horny, the promise of an orgasm flirting with her. Her clit felt engorged, sensitive, sending pulses of pleasure through her. Her orgasm flirted with her, dancing just out of reach, tenseness arriving, heart racing, anticipation, excitement.
It started as a small burst of pleasure in her pussy that blossomed up her body, her nerves alive. Then the thunder arrived, explosive, so hard she gasped, pure bliss slamming into her making her cry out. Her climax pummeled her, body rigid, then squirming, utter ecstasy washing through her. She gasped for breath and drowned in the intensity, almost agonizing, her whole body wracked with pleasure. Wave followed wave until, with a cry of bliss, she peaked, and her muscles released her, liquid peace arriving, heart pounding.
An echoing tremor shook her.
She had no bones left. She didn’t even have the energy to open her eyes. Utter calm permeated her. And she felt him kiss her neck.
He didn’t move. As if knowing how sensitive her body now was, he held her breast and cupped her pussy. She wanted to sleep, like this, on his lap, him touching her.
I COULD SMELL RORY’S climax. It was the scent of her body that changed, more intense yet still clean and beautiful. I’d felt her heart racing when she climaxed. I’d felt her legs try to close. And I’d felt the clenching of her buttocks as waves of pleasure had pummeled her.
She was heavier now, her body relaxed, and still breathing deeply. I did no more than hold her even though I had an erection straining. Rory’s orgasms were truly beautiful and constantly different. From soft and sexy to hard body-curling they all excited me. Could there be anything sexier than a girl in the throes of a climax?
I wondered what it would be like to experience her climax when buried inside her. Would I feel her contractions of pleasure? I wasn’t sure, but I knew I was going to try.
With care, I eased my hand out of her panties and my other hand away from her damp breast. She groaned quietly. Hugging her, I waited. It wasn’t long.
She inhaled deeply and sighed it out. “Okay. You’re forgiven,” she said.
“Forgiven for what?”
“For being an ass all morning.” She sat up, turned on my lap, smiled at me, her face nicely flushed, and kissed me. “I’m thirsty. Want something?”
I watched the bottom half of her pantied ass undulate as she walked to the fridge. “No thank you.”
“You sure?”
“Well, maybe a bottle of water.”
Rory returned and sat on the sofa, passing me a bottle. She popped her Coke and sipped, sighed, and turned to lean back against the armrest. She stretched her legs out and her feet settled in my lap.
“How long does it take to recover?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Longer for a guy. Girls can have multiple climaxes.”
She shoved me with a foot. “Not that! I mean the soreness in my pussy.”
I smiled at her openness. Rory was back. “How would I know?”
She studied me with her gold-flecked eyes, then said, “Don’t tell me you’ve never had sex with a virgin before.”
“I haven’t.”
“Honestly?”
“You’re my first,” I confirmed.
“Huh.” A moment to ponder and she continued, “Do you think some guys are, like, virgin hounds? Always wanting to have sex with virgins? I wonder why? It’s not like sex with a virgin is better, is it?”
When I didn’t respond right away, she kicked me. “Is it?”
“It was pretty damned good,” I confirmed.
Rory grinned. “Thanks. Now you can tell me the truth.”
I thought about it. Was sex with her more exciting than other women I’d been with? Yup. Absolutely. However, I admitted, it was because it was sex with Rory. Sure, her being a virgin was an interesting aspect, me being her first, but it hadn’t been the best pure sex I’d experienced. It could only get better, and that was an exciting prospect!
“Maybe not the best,” I admitted.
Rory pouted.
“What? You asked me for the truth!”
She laughed. “I guess I need practice.”
“I’ll help.”
Rory let loose with a rare giggle that hit me in the chest again. Damn, I adored her.
The afternoon passed with easy silences and animated conversations. Dinner was early. We were both tired. And the rain continued to fall in a dreary drizzle that sapped energy.
That night, when we went to bed, I made a beeline to her room. She grabbed my hand and led me towards my bedroom.
“I want to sleep in your bed,” I told her. I did. I liked her room much more than mine.
“We can’t. I haven’t changed the sheets.”
“Who cares?”
“I do. There’s blood on them. We’re sleeping in your bed.”
When we finally made it to bed, Rory cuddled to me. There was a new comfort between us. Tense expectancy was missing, that little thrill of possibilities. But, what replaced it was easy intimacy, pure pleasure, and the promise of new experiences ahead - a far stronger emotion.
The week passed very quickly. Skipping work on Monday had put me behind. Tuesday and Wednesday were hectic. On Thursday, I received a call from the attorney handling the appeal of Joe Kipler’s forged will asking me to appear in civil court the following week. The case was moving quickly.
That evening, Rory actually cooked dinner. It was a rare event and, even though it was simple roast chicken, she’d put effort into it, cooking roasted potatoes and spinach as the side dishes.
The aroma that greeted me was mouth-watering. Rory was full of smiles. She ordered me to sit at the table and, as she carved the chicken to plate it, I noticed something strange. Typically, we fought over the legs and thighs, neither of us partial to the breast meat. Usually a generous girl, Rory was very selfish about her food. Inevitably, I’d eat white meat and she’d consume both legs and thighs.
This time, as I watched, she carefully arranged two legs and thighs on one plate, the breasts on another, and set the plate with dark meat in front of me. I didn’t say anything, but the gesture was significant. Rory was giving me the best parts, an act of love if I’d ever seen one.
The meal was delicious. I exchanged a leg and thigh for one breast on her plate and she responded, “You don’t have to do that. I wanted you to have them.”
I insisted. Interestingly, she didn’t eat them, informing me they’d make a great sandwich for my lunch.
Something was off.
Rory was bright and chatty, yet she had some strange gleam in her eyes.
“I have to testify in court next week,” I told her.
“How long will you be gone?”
“We’ll be gone three days. It’s in New Orleans.”
Rory’s eyes sparkled. “We? I get to go?”
I nodded.
“Wow! Wait till I tell Susie! She’ll be so jealous! Is the Marti Gras on?” Not waiting for an answer, she continued, “We’ll stay up all night and party!”
I chuckled. “You’ve been very happy today. You even cooked. Care to tell me what’s going on?”
Rory gave me a sneaky smile. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
“What’s special about tomorrow?”
“You’ll see.”
She went back to eating and talking about staying in a hotel and room service and dining out and the clothes she’d have to bring. Apparently, one outfit per day wasn’t appropriate, although God knows why. I just relaxed and enjoyed her enthusiasm.
Friday morning, Rory showered while I prepared breakfast. As usual, I planned to have a plate of fried eggs and toast in front of her as soon as she sat down - a preemptive strike to deal with her grumpiness.
She surprised me by being relatively bright and upbeat. After consuming breakfast, she asked, “Can you take the day off work?”
I had preparations for the court case on the agenda. “No. Sorry.”
“Can you take half a day off? This afternoon?”
“Why?”
She smiled. “I want to go for a boat ride. We could pack a dinner! I’ll make it!”
I really needed to work however, her enthusiasm won me over. “Okay. We’ll leave at two-thirty.”
“Great! Get to work, buster! I’ll do the dishes.”
Very strange.
Promptly, at two-thirty, we left. The Boston Whaler carried us south. I planned to find a very secluded sandy beach and grope her to my heart’s content.
Rory looked wonderful, young and sexy. She had the white bikini bra on and cargo shorts over her bikini bottoms. Summer heat was so intense, she sat next to me at the console, shaded by the cockpit roof.
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