Miranda's long legs were wrapped around his waist. They had barely made it through the door of the room over the property's boathouse. Ken had pushed her back against the door, closing it in the process, locking his lips to hers. She had managed to pull his half-unbuttoned shirt over his head, tossing it behind him and to the side and was in the process of undoing his pants for a second time. Ken was trying to slide her dress up to her waist at the same time. The instant his cock was free, he lifted her up against the door and rocked himself towards her core. She dropped a hand between them, pulled her panties to one side and shifted herself down at the same time that he thrust forward. With how hard he was, and how wet she was, he had breached her before either one had made a conscience decision.
Miranda cringed and stiffened with the sudden stretch, as gravity pulled her sharply down on his length. Fuck, he had hurt her. There was a reason why most men weren't as big as he was. At times it was more of a curse than a blessing. He put a hand against the doorframe to steady himself to slide her off of him, but she glared down at him. "No! Don't you dare move," she commanded.
Ken panted through his teeth with the strain; she was slim, but with her height came weight and his muscles were hollering at him holding her up like this. "I hurt you," he baulked.
"Umhmm," she whined, clearly uncomfortable. "I'll be fine…" she panted. "Just give me a minute. 'Just need to get used to you."
Ken ignored his protesting arms and thighs. He leaned in, capturing her lips, stoking her desire with his tongue. He felt her relax a bit, her walls softening around him. She breathed deep against his mouth. A moment later and she shifted against him. He pulled back an inch or so and thrust forward.
"Holy…" she started, any coherent sentence gone with the fire between her legs.
Ken couldn't believe how tight she felt, suddenly surrounding him, as he was buried in her warm heat to nearly the hilt. He couldn't stop himself from pulling back out another inch or two and pushing hard back in. Miranda took a sharp inhale of breath and tensed up again. Ok, that was it. She wasn't ready for him yet. He shifted his weight and put his hands up under her arm pits to lift her off of himself. She whined in protest and half stood, keeping one lower leg wrapped around his calf as she stood on the other and leaned towards him. He reached up to run a reassuring hand through her tresses and then pressed his forehead to hers.
"Miranda, I'm big. It's ok, you just need some help. Let's get you onto the bed, it will be easier. Let me take care of you."
"But I want to make you feel good. I can take it. I promise. Don't you want me?"
"Dear," he paused briefly. "Being inside you felt amazing, but if I take you before you're ready it will likely be more discomfort than pleasure, and I mean for the both of us. We've got all night. Relax."
She let out a little sigh and nodded her head.
"Ok?" he asked, confirming.
"Ok," she consented. "I've got a bottle of lube in the nightstand."
"That's my girl," he encouraged. "And as amazing as that just felt, we probably should use protection. I've got a couple of condoms in my wallet."
"Yeah, there's a box in the nightstand, too," she assured.
"You're prepared," he commented.
"Always," she agreed.
"Ok, so where's the bed?" Ken lifted his eyes from her, scanning the fairly large room and answering his own question. The living space took up the whole loft area above the boat house. There was a kitchenette to his left, complete with a small dining table and two chairs. A small sectional and coffee table, facing a tv, where off to the side in front of him next to the dining set, and a queen-sized bed was further to the right under a large bay window. There were a couple of doors to the far wall near the bed, that he guessed were closet and storage, and the door to what he assumed was a bathroom. The décor was nautical, including numbered prints and what he figured where original paintings. Not one, but two, model ships were on a dividing half wall between the bed and the seating area. The models were expensive looking, one of grand size and the second smaller but complementary. Walls, curtains, couch, and bedding were all in a mixture of blues and creams. Everything spoke of class.
He put one hand on her waist and wrapped the other around her upper back and smoothly spun her so her back was now facing the bed. Placing kisses to her lips and neck, he walked her backwards towards the bed. As the back of her knees hit the mattress, he bent to follow her down, so she was lying flat. His lips left hers as he suddenly flipped her over onto her stomach. She let out a little squeak. He pushed his body weight against her and lifted her hands up above her head and pressed them into the mattress with his own. He folded his larger hands over hers and gave her wrists a little shake for emphasis. "Keep these here, princess. You are to do as I tell you."
Generally, no one told Miranda McCallister what to do, and that included her own parents. Considering the rush of excitement at his words and the sudden surge of heat to her sex that had her pushing her upper thighs together under his body weight, she figured that concept was no longer going to apply to one Ken Wheatley. God, what was it about this man?
He placed his lips against the shell of her ear lobe, his breath against her skin further stoking her flame. His fingers found the back zipper to her dress, and he started to slide it down, inch by inch, as his tongue and lips trailed along the newly exposed skin. She moved a hand back to reach for him and he promptly open palm smacked her ass. She yelped. "Hands," he commanded. He all but growled at her, "Let me work."
Miranda let out a pouting whine, as she swiftly returned her wayward hand to where he had placed it. He grunted softly and returned to sliding the zipper down and kissing along her back. When he got it low enough, he shifted up and off of her to slide the material over her hips.
Ken noted the lack of bra, but as a guy was clueless to the bra cups sewn into the dress. He pulled the dress the rest of the way off of her, leaving her in nothing but a pair of black lace panties. The sight was glorious. She was laid out on the bed for him, hands above her head in submission, her head to the side on the bedding, eyes back, watching him. Her ass looked so tight he figured he could bounce a quarter off of it, but what he was really looking forward to seeing was her other side. He tossed the dress so it landed draped over the divider wall and dropped his gaze back to her. "Roll over," he directed.
She licked her lips and rolled. Halfway through, her hands dropped down towards her chest as if she went to cover herself, but before he could correct her, she brought them back above her hand, resting them on the mattress, hands part way cupped. He moaned his approval. A gorgeous set of pertness with delicate nipples met his gaze. He gave her a closed lip smile. "Beautiful," he breathed out. "Do not move."
Ken slid his pants the rest of the way off from his hips and re-positioned his boxers to cover himself. Miranda pouted at him. He noticed and chuckled. "Don't worry sweetheart, we'll get there." He dropped his pants over the divider next to the dress and crossed the short distance to pick up his discarded shirt. Miranda propped herself up on her elbows to watch him. He nearly corrected her for not doing what she was told but decided to give her a break. She'd learn soon enough. He already knew that he'd have no problem letting her be in charge outside of the bed chamber, but this was his domain, and he had every intention of letting her know that. He moved back towards her, straightening out his shirt somewhat as he went, and dropped that to hang next to the rest of their garments. He was pleased when she dropped herself back to mattress at his approach, and placed her hands back over her head.
Miranda had watched him move lustfully. Most of the other men she'd been with had been offspring from wealthy families, like her herself. They were fit, healthy, from golf, jogging, tennis, but none of them had the firm muscles and physique that Ken displayed. She figured the difference was the military training, combined with a life of hard knocks. She had never seen pecs, abs, back and shoulders like his; the man's body screamed raw male strength and power. She wanted to explore nearly every inch.
He came back to the bed and lay down next to her. Her fingers twitched to reach for him, but she was trying to play his game. He stroked his fingers through her hair, and she leaned to rest her cheek into his broad palm and sighed contentedly. "I want to touch you," she whined softly.
"Hmm," was his reply as he bent to kiss her smoothly, teasingly. "It's not about me at the moment. This is about you."
"But it's killing me not to have my hands on you."
Ken looked at her like the conclusion was obvious, "Exactly."
He sat up enough to trail his hands down her outstretched arms. "Close your eyes," he instructed. "Just relax and breathe and feel."
Miranda was by no means a virgin, but she knew Ken had a few years on her, and she was guessing a heck of a lot more experience, especially with sex that wasn't the standard she had gotten from her preppy boyfriends. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't apprehensive, but the butterflies and sparks literally shooting through her body any time he touched her, spoke to her, or looked at her, more than told her she was also beyond excited. She did as he asked, and almost instantaneously felt a large hand drop to cover one breast, followed by a second on its pair. He caressed her, massaged her, almost like he was memorizing the feel of her breasts in his hands. She then felt him lift his hands to roll and then pinch one nipple between his fingers. She hissed at the roughness, as he twisted slightly, and shot her eyes open for just a second, catching just a glimpse of him. She was just about to complain when she realized that the brief sharpness was rapidly followed by a shot of stimulation right to her core. Now she wanted him to follow with the other side. He repeated the action with the same nipple, and she let out another hiss followed by a moan. A moment later he moved to repeat the action at her opposite breast. She felt moisture flowing to her lower lips as he bent to replace his fingers with his mouth. Miranda arched up towards him with a moan, pushing her breast at his mouth. She couldn't believe how turned on she already was. Her body was nearly moving on its own accord, seeking to get closer to him, chasing more closeness, more pleasure.
Ken smiled to himself. She was beautifully responsive, just as he had assumed she would be. He sucked and licked at her breast and nipples for a few minutes, thrilled as she moaned and writhed beneath him. He then slid himself lower on the bed. He pulled her panties down and off her legs, casting them to the floor. He licking the index finger of his right hand sloppily, seeking to add enough moisture, and dropped it to her sex. He trailed it briefly over her clit, with every attention of returning shortly to that little bundle of nerves, but first he wanted to start preparing her to take him. He slid his digit into her, and she moaned loudly. "Kennnn," she breathed out.
He continued his stimulation and exploration, pushing against her walls gently but firmly as he shifted to start fucking her with his hand. She lifted her legs up, positioning her feet flat and began to shift her pelvis in time with the thrusts of his finger. She dropped her hands to his upper back and shoulders and this time he didn't correct her. She palmed his muscles, periodically grabbing at him and pushing her nails at his flesh, as he stroked and rubbed her. "Come on, baby, I know you want it, cum for me."
His words seemed to push her to the edge, and she renewed her efforts, lifting her butt off the bed to thrust against his hand. Her eyes opened to look at him once more, and then she scrunched them tight, as she fell over the edge and cried out her release.
Miranda let her thighs fall open, knees bent, and lay still with the exception of her shallow breaths as her body sought to recover. She left her eyes closed.
Ken slid off the bed. He moved to the nightstand, open the lower cabinet and thankfully located the aforementioned bottle of lube right away. He took it with him, placing it on the shelf of the divider. He fished his wallet out of the back pocket of his tux pants, taking out a condom. He slipped his boxers off, kicking them off his legs to the floor, tore open the condom wrapper and slid it down to sheath himself. He snapped open the top of the lube bottle, squirted a generous dollop in his hand, rubbed over and down his shaft and moved to position himself over his new girl. She hadn't moved.
He dropped his lube coated hand to her cunt, smearing the remaining lube over her and returned his hand to his dick to line himself up to her. He pushed forward. Miranda let out a deep moan that nearly reverberated in his ears. He pushed about halfway in. She took three deep breaths, her chest rising and falling. He pushed further. She stiffened. "Easy," he cooed. "Relax, you're ok. Take it easy. It will only hurt if you tighten."
He watched her breathe deep again. She let out a breath, opened her eyes to look at him and nodded her head at him to continue.
Ken bent down to kiss her. He moved his lips and tongue tenderly, encouraging her without words to relax and trust him and let him in. She breathed into his mouth, returning his kisses. He continued loving her with his mouth and slowly slid his cock further. Finally, he was seated inside her, and she was no longer tensing, and her face was relaxed. He kissed her again. "Very good," he praised, framing her face with his hands, and stroking one affectionately against her temple. "I'm in, the hard part's over. Now relax and enjoy the ride."
She nodded her consent and nibbled a smidge on her lower lip. Ken slid back out an inch or so and rocked his pelvis back at her. She grunted with the pressure but didn't tense, so he did it again, coming out a little further. Miranda cried out with his second thrust, but it was a cry of pleasure, of relief, and not of pain. He reached his hand between them, fingers stroking to find her little bundle of nerves. Ken knew his way around, finding it in seconds after using a fingertip to slide her smaller lips open to gain access. The instant the tip of his finger brushed her nerve endings, she reacted, her body trying to jump away from him; fortunately, he had her effectively pinned beneath him.
"Oh My God!" she cried out in a rush of words. "What did you just do?"
"That my dear, is your clit." He brushed it again and she gasped and jolted against his restraining body weight. He chuckled warmly. "Let me guess? No one has actually touched you like that before?"
She shook her head. "Do it again," she demanded, overcome with want and new sensation.
He was, of course, more than willing to oblige. He rolled the nub between his index and thumb, lightly pinching, stroking, as he held his body position still. His cock throbbed inside her, but he knew his patience would be rewarded. Miranda thrashed her head side to side, cried out, and then shifted her hips to fuck herself against him. He willed himself to stay still, letting her go, and she screamed out another orgasm, this more seemingly more intense than the last. Her body had shown no resistance as she had pushed herself against his hard shaft.
"Holy…shit…" she panted. "Ok, pleasse. God that's intense." She shifted beneath him, trying to dislodge his fingers. He teased her a bit further, to intentionally be as ass, and then consented, pulling his fingers away. Her movements had caused him to slide out from her folds.
She looked up at him hungrily. "Now fuck me you prick and don't you dare hold back."
"Do you know what you're asking?"
"You're going back to New York, right?"
"Yes." Did he want to leave this room or this woman ever again? No, but reality was reality.
"Then do it. I need to feel you for days."
Ken slid himself back in, and this time he didn't do it gently.
Miranda cried out. He pulled back and thrust back against her sharply. She yelped. Locking eyes with him, she bit out "Harder."
Ken could count on one hand the number of times in his life a woman had asked him that, and every time it wasn't long before the request was recanted. He figured Miranda was going to be the exception. He grabbed her hips, holding her roughly with his hands, and let himself go for about the first time in his life.
Miranda shook below him, hands thrashing and pawing at his back. She screamed loudly with nearly every thrust but only wrapped her legs up further and tighter around him. "More," she bit out. "Harder. Give me everything!"
The sweat was beading on his back. He had to force back against the iron grip her legs had on his waist to pull out enough to slam back in. Her walls pulsated against him with every thrust. There was a freight train barreling in his ears. One more slamming, punishing thrust and the dam broke. Miranda screamed out below him and he shot his release into the condom inside her with a deep groan that felt like it came from his soul.