February 14, 2005
Ashley Saunders peered out the window for what felt like the hundredth time. Corey was late. But Corey was never late. Worry crept into her thoughts. She could not help but imagine a growing litany of calamities that may have befallen her... her what? Friend? Boyfriend? Partner? Lover?
Eyes closed, the eighteen-year-old brunette forced herself to concentrate on her breathing, slowing it as well as the thoughts speeding through her mind. This was not the time to worry about how to define their relationship. It was Valentine's Day and their first real date. She wanted everything to be perfect. She would not—could not—let anxiety control her.
Warm brown eyes, too large for her face, and her worst feature by her estimation, flew open at the sound of a knock on the front door. She hurried to open it but stopped to draw in a long, slow breath, fighting unexpected tumult in her belly.
Get a grip,
she admonished herself.
It's just Corey. I've fucked him a bunch. This is just something new before we get to the normal part.
***
Corey Strickland waited on the porch, insides churning, a dozen red roses in hand. He hoped that Ashley was not too upset at his lateness. The flowers caused the delay, despite his ordering them days in advance. The harried florist in the crowded shop had offered a perfunctory apology for the wait before thrusting the bouquet into his hand and motioning for the next person in line.
The door swung open, driving away everything but the vision it revealed. Ashley, dark hair falling in waves around and below her shoulders, grinned at him, her sexy, enthralling eyes flicking from his face to the roses then back. Her smile widened, and his focus held on her full, soft, glistening lips.
"These are for you," he croaked, holding out the roses with trembling hand. He wondered what was wrong with him.
Sure, Ashley was the hottest girl in their class, and she was standing in front of him, dark red dress clinging to the enticing curves of her body, eyes eager, smile welcoming. But he would have thought she could not affect him quite like this anymore, given that they had engaged in a variety of sexual activities over the last few weeks. And yet, he could not deny his anxiety.
"They're beautiful," Ashley said, fingers brushing his hand as she took the offered bouquet. His skin tingled at that brief touch, and his mind fought against sudden arousal. Tonight was different. Or at least he thought it would be.
"So are you," he blurted, watching her lovely cheeks redden as her smile grew even larger.
"You mean for a whore?"
***
Why the fuck did I say that now?
Ashley wondered, feeling her smile fading as Corey's face colored and his eyes dropped.
"Don't call yourself that," her friend mumbled, his gaze briefly meeting hers before shifting away again.
"It's the truth," she shrugged, not understanding why her voice betrayed her by continuing to say things she did not want to say.
"Not tonight," he countered, this time not looking away after their eyes met. "Not to me."
"I was our first time."
Their first time together, Corey had paid Ashley $100 to take his virginity. She did so, giving him a pre-sex blowjob to make sure he lasted long enough to enjoy his first taste of sex. But Ashley experienced a first as well—an orgasm from vaginal sex.
Before Corey, the eighteen-year-old had only climaxed through masturbation and once from a guy licking her. The surprising pleasure, coupled with an unanticipated attraction to Corey, led Ashely to continue their encounter long past the agreed-upon activities. After that, the two old friends and new lovers hatched a plan for Corey to help Ashley find other guys among their classmates who were old enough and were willing to pay a fee to lose their virginity, then drive her to her 'dates.' In compensation for his help, Ashley agreed to have regular sex with Corey. But it had not taken long for that business relationship to grow into something else, and Ashley alternately attempted to avoid or embrace whatever it was that their relationship might be becoming.
"This isn't our first time. And you were not that even then. You were my dream. You still are," he said, his face earnest.
A chill settled in Ashely's gut at Corey's words, but it did not extend to her loins, where an undeniable, unrelenting heat grew. Not wanting to say anything else wrong, she pulled him to her and pushed her lips to his. Her intent was a quick kiss, but they both lingered, lips moving, intertwined in a soft yet passionate melding.
"I'm going to go put these in water," she told Corey several seconds later.
He dropped his hands from her waist and nodded. Her eyes dropped to his groin for a moment, and she saw the bulge she had felt seconds earlier, which did nothing to lessen the moist heat afflicting her sex.
This is going to be a long dinner
, she told herself.
***
Corey watched Ashley, his eyes falling to her nicely rounded bottom, which seemed to sway underneath the form-fitting dress—the smooth, form-fitting dress. The prospect that she was not wearing any panties filled his mind, furthering his arousal. He tried to think of something else, anything else, but the aroma of her perfume lingered, and memories of her lips on his assured he would fail.
"You like the dress?" she asked when she came back into the entryway.
"It's gorgeous."
"I thought about one that showed off some cleavage, but this one seemed both sexier and classier."
"It's gorgeous," Corey repeated, his eyes drawn to her bosom at the mention of cleavage.
The neckline of the dress ran straight across Ashely's upper chest from collar bone to collar bone, but other than that feature, the tight garment was far from modest. The fitted bodice encased her medium-sized breasts like a second skin, and Corey could not help but remember how they looked out of clothing, round and firm and perfect, tipped with tan nipples and small, russet areolas. These memories did nothing to help him stave off his desire for her.
Below her chest, the dress hugged her flat stomach before flowing over curved hips. Falling mid-thigh, it was not as short as skirts Corey had seen Ashley wear at school, but combined with red, high-heeled shoes, it showed off enticing contours of her smooth, toned legs.
"You're gorgeous," he told Ashely, taking her soft, warm hand.
"You just want in my pants," she grinned, fingers squeezing his.
"You're not wearing pants," Corey countered, and the tension and anxiety that had been afflicting him sloughed away. And from the way she rolled her eyes at him but never stopped smiling, he was sure Ashley felt the same.
***
"I got us a hotel for after dinner," Ashley informed Corey seconds after he started chewing a mouthful of lasagna. She saw his eyes grow larger, and for a moment she thought he might choke on his food. But Corey recovered enough to swallow before he spoke.
"Oh... I thought we agreed to a movie."
"If you don't like the idea of you and me alone in a hotel..."
"No, I do. I do. It's just I thought we were trying for a real date tonight."
"We're having dinner in a nice restaurant," The eighteen-year-old brunette said, staring at the young man across from her and watching him squirm. "That's a real date. And then what comes after is... an extension of the date. Unless you don't want that tonight."
"I always want that," Corey said, pitching his voice low. "But I want you to know that's not all I want. So, if it's not right for us to, um, do what we usually do tonight, I'm okay with that."
"Yeah, I kinda figured that one out," Ashley scoffed, rolling her eyes. "But given I went to the trouble of getting us a hotel room, I think you can guess my thoughts on the matter."
For what threatened to stretch into an awkwardly long pause, Corey's eyes never wavered from hers. Ashely, wanting to prompt her friend—or whatever Corey was to her—to action, picked the last breadstick out of the basket on the table and sucked a couple of inches of it into her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks as she slid her lips up and down its length.
"Fuck," Corey groaned, letting his fork and the bite of lasagna on it drop to his plate.
"And suck," she grinned after biting off the end of the breadstick.
"We should probably get a to-go box for the rest of..."
"Fuck yeah," the young woman breathed, clamping her legs together as a twinge deep in her loins intensified the warm, wet feeling between her legs, the one that had been present all evening.
***
"This is very nice," Corey said, his gaze wandering around the hotel room.
"You were expecting a sleazy motel with hourly rates?"
"What? No," the young man responded, rounding to look at his date.
"I mean, I am a whore," the sexy brunette said, foreclosing his rising objections with a kiss.
"Not to me," he breathed in her ear, hands on her firm, round bottom as he pulled her groin against the erection straining his pants. He could not deny how much he wanted her, so he decided not to try.
"Nah, I'm a slut to you," she whispered back.
"You are the most amazing girl I know," Corey said, shaking his head. "And the most beautiful."
"Whatever," Ashley snorted, punching him in the arm as she stepped back from their embrace. But her words and manner stood at odds to the pink on her cheeks.
"I mean it."
"I know you do," she said. "But you shouldn't. We both know what I am."
"I know who you are, and what you do is not who you are."
"You stole that from
Firefly
," the girl laughed.