the next day it's Isabella Dance show so me & David went to the show & we found our seat & it's start (watch the video) after it was over we clap & we went backstage to meet Isabella when she see me she rush over to me & we hug each other
Phoebe: you did amazing
I said & I let go of her
Isabella: are you sure I did okay?
she ask
Phoebe: yes Isabella im sure
I said she smiled & we start talking. when me & David got to his house he ask me to stay for the night & I rush to his bedroom & I put on some sweat pains & some plane top and as I put the top on I feel someone wrapping his arms around me & I know it's David
David: you look so beautiful tonight
he said I smiled then he kiss my neck I moan & then I take him to the bed
If you are under age or you don't want to read the sex scene then don't read it this is a waring
At the foot of the bed I stop. David is trying to hide his amusement.
David: Now you have me in here, Phoebe, what are you going to do with me?
he teases, his voice low.
Phoebe: I'm going to start by undressing you.
I reach for the lapels on his jacket, careful not to touch him, and he doesn't flinch but he's holding his breath.
Gently, I push his jacket over his shoulders, and his eyes stay on mine, all traces of humor gone, as they grow larger, burning into me, wary and needful? There are so many interpretations of his look. What is he thinking? I place his jacket on the ottoman.
Phoebe: Now your T-shirt
I whisper and lift it by the hem. He cooperates, raising his arms and backing away, making it easier for me to pull it off. Once off, he gazes down at me, intently, wearing just his jeans that hang so provocatively from his hips. The band of his boxer briefs is visible.
My eyes move hungrily up across his taut stomach to the remains of the lipstick line, faded and smudged, then up to his chest. I want nothing more than to run my tongue through his chest hair to savor his taste.
David: Now what?
he whispers, eyes blazing.
Phoebe: I want to kiss you here
I run my finger from hipbone to hipbone across his belly.
His lips part as he inhales sharply.
David: I'm not stopping you
he breathes.
I take his hand.
Phoebe: You'd better lie down then
I murmur and lead him to the side of the four-poster bed. Lifting the covers, he sits on the edge of the bed, gazing up at me, waiting, his expression wary and serious. I stand before him and slip off his denim jacket and let it drop to the floor, then I shuffle out of his sweatpants.
He rubs his thumb over the tips of his fingers. He's itching to touch me, I can tell, but he suppresses the urge. Taking a deep breath and beyond courageous, I reach for the hem of my T-shirt and lift it over my head so I am naked before him. His eyes don't leave mine, but he swallows and his lips part.
David: You are Aphrodite, Phoebe
he murmurs.
I clasp his face in my hands, tip his head up, and bend to kiss him. He groans low in his throat.
As I place my mouth on his, he grabs my hips, and before I know it, I am pinned beneath him, his legs forcing mine apart so that he's cradled against my body between my legs. He's kissing me, ravaging my mouth, our tongues entwined. His hand trails from my thigh, over my hip, along my belly to my breast, squeezing, kneading, and pulling enticingly on my nipple.
I groan and tilt my pelvis involuntarily against him, finding a delicious friction against the seam of his fly and his growing erection. He stops kissing me and gazes down at me bemused and breathless. He flexes his hips so his erection pushes against me. . . . Yes. Right there.
I close my eyes and moan, and he does it again, but this time I push back, relishing his answering moan as he kisses me again. He continues the slow delicious torture—rubbing me, rubbing him. And he's right—getting lost in him—it's intoxicating to the exclusion of everything else. All my worries are obliterated.
I am here in this moment with him—my blood singing in my veins, thrumming loudly through my ears, mixed with the sound of our panting breaths. I bury my hands in his hair, holding him to my mouth, consuming him, my tongue as avaricious as his. I trail my fingers down his arms, down his lower back to the waistband of his jeans and push my intrepid, greedy hands inside, urging him on and on—forgetting everything, except us.
David: You're going to unman me, Phoebe
he whispers suddenly, breaking away from me and kneeling up. He briskly pulls down his jeans and hands me a foil packet.
David: You want me, baby, and I sure as hell want you. You know what to do
With anxious, dexterous fingers, I rip open the foil and unroll the condom over him. He grins down at me, his mouth open, eyes misty gray and full of carnal promise. Leaning over me, he rubs his nose against mine, his eyes closed, and deliciously, slowly, he enters me.
I grasp his arms and tilt my chin up, reveling in the exquisitely full feeling of his possession. He runs his teeth along my chin, eases back, and then slides into me again—so slow, so sweet, so tender—his body pressing down on me, his elbows and his hands on either side of my face.
David: You make me forget everything. You are the best therapy,
he breathes, moving at an achingly leisurely pace, savoring every inch of me.
Phoebe: Please, David—faster
I murmur, wanting more, now.
David: Oh no, baby. I need this slow
He kisses me sweetly, gently biting my lower lip and absorbing my soft moans.
I move my hands into his hair and surrender myself to his rhythm as slowly and surely my body climbs higher and higher and plateaus, then falls hard and fast as I come around him.
David: Oh, Phoebe
he breathes as he lets go, my name a benediction on his lips as he finds his release.
end of sex
