Amber wouldn't be able to hold this position for long. Already a crick was building up at the base of her back, and her legs complained of the cut-off blood flow. If she were fucking him, that'd be one thing, since the motion would keep her body singing with joy. But to stay still like this... and the sight of Eric squirming with arousal that must be turning into pain was not one Amber wanted to see.
She knew he meant well, could feel it in the kindness of his caress and his carefully-chosen words. But the touch, too invasive when she was scrambling for a safe distance, made her anxiety coil further, tightening in the pit of her stomach. His first comments disappointed her. He was going to talk about how much he wanted her? Like he'd said, she knew that. She'd have to be on another planet not to. His desire, though, didn't explain the anger that'd flashed over his face just now. In fact, nothing he was doing right now, treating her like near-shattering china, was compatible with that brief rage. And Amber couldn't go on, not while she didn't understand. "Why were you angry, just now? When I said you could stop me?"
Eric's patience gave way to skittishness when he left the subject of how much he wanted her. Her blood turned to ice water, freezing her from the inside. Was that it? Being on top? Physically, it wasn't a problem. Back on Friday, she'd loved it when he'd flipped her over and fucked her hard, unable to help himself anymore. She could've spent all night like that and passed the next day grinning ear to ear. Figuratively, though. That was a whole other story. Amber didn't know. She wouldn't have thought she'd be unable to let her partner take over for a while; again, last Friday she'd been fine when he'd set the direction. Just, tonight she wasn't. And it might not be the last time. "I don't know if I can promise that." The way she was letting him (and herself) down, honesty was the least she could give him.
Shit. Shit. Earnestness shone from his face, like a kid trying to convince the nearest adult the truth of his imaginary friend. He might mean it, but it wasn't enough for her. His erection, it hadn't softened in the slightest, and it made her ache with guilt. She wasn't a tease. Amber had never understood women who made out with guys only to decide they weren't in the mood; when she wanted sex, she wanted with every fiber of her being. She clenched her hands over her own thighs. She didn't want to do this. She cared about him more than she'd let herself anyone else since-- More than anything she wanted to be able to give him what he wanted. To curve over him, butterfly-kissing him before finding a condom and spreading it over him. Spread herself, taking him in as deep as she could. Pleasuring them both. But more frayed than when he'd first gone down on her, she knew that to force herself would bring a repeat of that earlier plea. "I can't do this." She bent just enough to cup his face, willing him to understand. God, she hated to admit this. Never had she been unable to perform; she couldn’t stand that the first time had to be with him, of all people. "I'm so sorry. It's not you-- I don't know what happened, I just can't."
At least she knew he'd accept. Not that his accepting was a problem-- if he tried to make her do anything, she'd walk out. That simple. But she knew that he'd respect her needs. Opening doors for her, driving her back to her apartment just to prepare a night bag, asking what she liked in bed-- that hadn't been for show. And Amber knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he wouldn't fail her as a gentleman at this crucial juncture. "I need a shower," Amber said, also certain he'd let her that much. "After that-- I'd still like to sleep with you. If that's okay." That last request he might refuse; if their positions were reversed, she might’ve kicked him out, not understanding that there could be non-sexual reasons for two near-strangers to want to spend a night together. Her hands trailed away, thumb brushing against his slick chin before settling back in her lap.
no subject
She knew he meant well, could feel it in the kindness of his caress and his carefully-chosen words. But the touch, too invasive when she was scrambling for a safe distance, made her anxiety coil further, tightening in the pit of her stomach. His first comments disappointed her. He was going to talk about how much he wanted her? Like he'd said, she knew that. She'd have to be on another planet not to. His desire, though, didn't explain the anger that'd flashed over his face just now. In fact, nothing he was doing right now, treating her like near-shattering china, was compatible with that brief rage. And Amber couldn't go on, not while she didn't understand. "Why were you angry, just now? When I said you could stop me?"
Eric's patience gave way to skittishness when he left the subject of how much he wanted her. Her blood turned to ice water, freezing her from the inside. Was that it? Being on top? Physically, it wasn't a problem. Back on Friday, she'd loved it when he'd flipped her over and fucked her hard, unable to help himself anymore. She could've spent all night like that and passed the next day grinning ear to ear. Figuratively, though. That was a whole other story. Amber didn't know. She wouldn't have thought she'd be unable to let her partner take over for a while; again, last Friday she'd been fine when he'd set the direction. Just, tonight she wasn't. And it might not be the last time. "I don't know if I can promise that." The way she was letting him (and herself) down, honesty was the least she could give him.
Shit. Shit. Earnestness shone from his face, like a kid trying to convince the nearest adult the truth of his imaginary friend. He might mean it, but it wasn't enough for her. His erection, it hadn't softened in the slightest, and it made her ache with guilt. She wasn't a tease. Amber had never understood women who made out with guys only to decide they weren't in the mood; when she wanted sex, she wanted with every fiber of her being. She clenched her hands over her own thighs. She didn't want to do this. She cared about him more than she'd let herself anyone else since-- More than anything she wanted to be able to give him what he wanted. To curve over him, butterfly-kissing him before finding a condom and spreading it over him. Spread herself, taking him in as deep as she could. Pleasuring them both. But more frayed than when he'd first gone down on her, she knew that to force herself would bring a repeat of that earlier plea. "I can't do this." She bent just enough to cup his face, willing him to understand. God, she hated to admit this. Never had she been unable to perform; she couldn’t stand that the first time had to be with him, of all people. "I'm so sorry. It's not you-- I don't know what happened, I just can't."
At least she knew he'd accept. Not that his accepting was a problem-- if he tried to make her do anything, she'd walk out. That simple. But she knew that he'd respect her needs. Opening doors for her, driving her back to her apartment just to prepare a night bag, asking what she liked in bed-- that hadn't been for show. And Amber knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he wouldn't fail her as a gentleman at this crucial juncture. "I need a shower," Amber said, also certain he'd let her that much. "After that-- I'd still like to sleep with you. If that's okay." That last request he might refuse; if their positions were reversed, she might’ve kicked him out, not understanding that there could be non-sexual reasons for two near-strangers to want to spend a night together. Her hands trailed away, thumb brushing against his slick chin before settling back in her lap.