Justine shuddered in orgasm as hot waves of pleasure washed over her body. His face flashed before her and she moaned his name repeatedly as her drenched fingers made their way up to her breasts and smeared the hard nipples with her essence. The clenching sensations deep inside her pussy slowed and dwindled to an ebbing throb. They seemed to merge with her heartbeat and she let out a shuddering sigh of deep relaxation as her breathing returned to normal. She kept her eyes tightly shut until the last image of him faded into the dark recesses of her mind. She loved the languid aftermath of orgasm, but felt again the aching emptiness of self gratification. If only she could cuddle into the warmth of a lover’s body - his body, her pleasure would be complete.
The house was oddly quiet. Her mother and younger brother were away for the weekend and all she had to look forward to was her books and her own company. Justine smiled cynically at the thought of her predicament. It wasn’t that she was unattractive; she knew that her shoulder length chestnut curls, hazel eyes and tight butt attracted a lot of attention from boys. But that was the problem. They were boys. Sure, some were cute to flirt with but they just didn’t do anything for her. Having gown up with three brothers meant Justine was used to having their friends around the house but they never held her interest for too long. Their limited conversations and incessantly roaming hands bored and irritated her, and while she had learned much about the male anatomy, she was approaching her twentieth birthday with her virginity intact and a reputation for being an uptight snob.
‘Not any more!” she said aloud as she stepped into the shower. She planned to change all that this weekend.
****
Justine ran a hand through her tousled curls and stepped out onto the porch. She spotted him across the street crouched down, working on his motorbike in the driveway, like he did most Saturday afternoons. Even though it was cool out, he was clad in a thin blue tee shirt that hugged his chest. It was tucked into well worn jeans and his black boots gleamed as if he’d just polished them. She watched mesmerized as his muscles bunched and relaxed as he moved, like some predacious animal. Her eyes raked over the hard thigh muscles that rippled beneath the taut blue denim and she marveled at his enigmatic transformation from career man during the week to bad boy on the weekend.
He lived alone and jogged three times a week. This she had learned by watching his house from her bedroom window. After returning from his runs, bathed in sweat with his thick dark hair matted and his clothes clinging wetly to his body he would disappear into his house only to emerge later freshly showered, and smartly dressed to go wherever it was that he went each day. She did not know what he did for a living and his age remained a mystery to her. Somewhere between thirty five and death, she guessed, but in excellent shape. At times like this, immersed in his bike he looked irresistibly boyish and undeniably sexy.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped off the porch and walked towards him. The longer she stood watching him and thinking about it, the more her courage lessened. If she was going to do it, she had to do it now before she lost her nerve. So far so good, she thought as she crossed the street and continued towards his driveway. Her heart thudded and she fought back the urge to turn and run. “Easier fantasized than done,” she whispered to herself.
“Hi Brendan.”
He glanced up, fixing his eyes on her for a moment and then returned to working on the bike.
“Hey Justine, you’re home early from the library today.”
She felt a small thrill run through her. He always called her ‘Justine’ and not Tina as everyone else did. She liked that. Justine sounded so much more mature and sophisticated. But very importantly he knew her schedule. Had he been watching her? She had never dreamed that he had ever given her much more than an idle thought. Oh For God’s sake grow up girl, she chided herself; he’d lived in the house across the street from her for close on a year and had helped her brothers out with their bikes a couple of times. He was bound to know the general comings and goings of the family.
”Actually, I’m not working today.”
He grunted in response.
“And Mom and Pete have gone away for the weekend as well.”
“I saw them leave earlier. Why didn’t you go with?”
She smiled sultrily and tried desperately to sound sexy. “Well you know, a girl’s gotta have some time for herself. Besides, I have big plans for tonight.”
“Oh yeah,” he replied, “Plans for what?”
“Well, I was wondering if I could speak to you about that. You know, sort of get some uh advice.”
He glanced at her, but only for a moment. “What’s up Justine?”
It was now or never and there was no easy way to do it. She took a deep breath and forced her voice to press the words out.
“Firstly I need to tell you that I am a virgin.”
Brendan stopped working. He didn’t look at her but she saw his hand halt and then clench around the wrench he was holding. The sinews stood out on his arms and his broad shoulders tensed. After a moment he continued tightening whatever it was that he was working on.
“And?”
Shit that wasn’t the response she had expected.
“And?” she repeated in confusion. Her face flushed with embarrassment.
“After a profound statement like that, I am assuming there is an ‘and’ that’s attached,” he said casually reaching into his toolbox.
“Well yes,” Just say it for God’s sake, she urged herself. Say it!
“I um uh, well I want to have my first time with an older man, somebody like you. Perhaps even you...” The words rushed out in a torrent and she felt dizzy from nervousness.
“Forget it girl.”
Forget it? Just like that! Talk about a put down, she thought. He took the fucking cake. That was a total knock down! His quick answer and casual attitude angered her. He didn’t even have the common decency to look up at her and appear honored or even shocked. Perhaps women asked him to deflower them regularly. God, what a horrible word that ‘deflower’ was, and maybe it was just a drag to do it. Or perhaps her ‘snob’ reputation had spread and the idea was so repulsive that he didn’t have to consider it for more than half a second.
Tears stung her eyes but she refused to cry. He wasn’t worth it, certainly not on an emotional level. It was just his body that she wanted and his skill. Was that too much to ask? Men, as far as she knew, were always willing to get a little action, and she was offering it with no strings attached. Perhaps he needed a little incentive just to prove she wasn’t teasing and meant it. What could she lose by making the suggestion? He had already declined and if he refused again, well it didn’t really matter; she would never be able to face him for the rest of her life anyway.
“Ok, I’ll pay you.”
The wrench clattered to the ground and he rose to his feet swiftly. His hard body towered above her and his eyes blazed.
“What did you say?” His voice was menacingly soft.
"I’ll pay you for one night of your time.”
He threw back his head and laughed cynically then fixed his eyes on her. “Let me understand this. You want to pay me to fuck you."
“Stop it Brendan!” Her cheeks flamed. “Please don’t put it that way; I’m inviting you to be my first..."
