Chapter 131 : Time Alone – However You Want Me (Part 2)
New York, Queens – Alex's POV
Her words hung in the air between us, heavy with implication. Anal. Her last virginity. The phrase kept repeating in my mind, bouncing around like an echo that wouldn't fade.
I studied her face in the lamplight, searching for hesitation or uncertainty. I found neither. May looked back at me with that steady confidence I'd come to know so well—resolved, unafraid, wanting.
"You're sure?" I asked.
She rolled her eyes, but the gesture was affectionate rather than dismissive. "I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't sure. Do I strike you as the type to say things I don't mean?"
"Fair point."
She smiled, shifting closer on the couch cushions. Her hand remained at my waistband, fingers tracing idle patterns against my skin. The touch was light, almost absent, as if she wasn't fully aware she was doing it.
"I've thought about it," she admitted. "For a while now. It's the one thing I've never done, and I want to experience it with someone I trust. With you."
The weight of that trust settled over me. May didn't give it freely or lightly. She was practical, observant, careful in ways that came from years of raising a child alone, of building a life from fragments. If she was offering this, she meant it.
"Okay," I said slowly. "But we're doing this right. I need you to tell me if anything hurts or feels wrong. No powering through it."
"Alex." Her tone carried that familiar note of exasperated fondness. "I think I can handle telling you if something hurts."
I couldn't argue with that logic.
She sat up properly, her movement causing her torn underwear to slip completely off her ankle and fall to the floor. Neither of us acknowledged it. Her jeans still bunched around her thighs, her sweater still pushed up past her ribs. The disheveled state of her clothing somehow made her more attractive—not despite the mess, but because of it. Evidence of what we'd already done.
"What do you need me to do?" she asked.
"Stay here. I'll be right back."
I stood, tucking myself back into my pants but leaving them unfastened, and walked to the bathroom. The apartment was still quiet, still empty. Just us and the soft sounds of evening settling over the building. I found what I needed in the cabinet—unscented lotion, nothing fancy, but it would work—and returned to the living room.
May had shifted position while I was gone. She'd kicked off her jeans entirely now, leaving them in a heap beside the couch. Her legs were tucked beneath her, her posture casual despite the circumstances. Only the slight tension in her shoulders betrayed her anticipation.
"Good," I said, settling beside her. "Comfortable?"
"As much as I can be."
I reached out, running my hand along her thigh. Her skin was warm, smooth, still slightly damp from earlier. She shivered at the touch, but didn't pull away.
"This might feel strange at first," I told her. "Different from what you're used to. The important thing is to relax. If you tense up, it'll be uncomfortable."
"I know how anatomy works," she said dryly. "I wasn't born yesterday."
"Then you know it'll go easier if you're relaxed."
She huffed out a breath. "I'm relaxed."
"You're tense."
"I'm trying to relax."
I leaned in, pressing my lips to the corner of her mouth. A barely-there kiss, gentle and undemanding. "Then let me help."
She made a soft sound—somewhere between acknowledgment and surrender—and let me guide her onto her back. I arranged her carefully against the cushions, positioning a pillow beneath her hips to angle her body better. She watched me work with curious eyes, tracking my movements.
"You've done this before," she observed.
"Some things are worth learning to do well."
Her lips curved. "Charmer."
I didn't respond with words. Instead, I slid down her body, pressing kisses along her inner thigh. Her skin was sensitive here—I could tell by the way her muscles jumped beneath my mouth. I took my time, building slowly, letting her body relax into sensation.
"Alex..." His name came out breathy, uncertain.
"Shh." I nuzzled against her, letting my breath wash over her exposed sex. She was still wet from before, still swollen and sensitive. "Let me."
My tongue found her clit, and she gasped. The sound was sharper than before, her body already primed and overstimulated from our earlier round. I kept the pressure light, teasing rather than demanding. Fluttering strokes that made her squirm rather than firm ones that would push her over immediately.
"Oh—oh that's—you can't just—"
I could. I did.
She moaned, her head falling back against the couch arm. Her hands fisted in the fabric beneath her, knuckles whitening. I continued my exploration, alternating between her clit and her entrance, tasting the combined evidence of our earlier coupling. Salt and musk and something uniquely May.
When her thighs began to tremble, I shifted lower. My tongue traced a path further down, past her opening, toward the tight ring of muscle below. She stiffened.
"Alex—"
"Trust me."
She swallowed hard, but didn't stop me.
I pressed my tongue flat against her anus, letting her feel the warmth and wetness. She made a strangled sound, somewhere between surprise and curiosity. I circled slowly, applying gentle pressure, testing her response.
"That's—I've never—"
"I know." I kept my voice low, soothing. "Relax for me."
It took her a moment, but gradually, incrementally, I felt the tension ease from her body. She exhaled shakily, her muscles softening. I took that as permission to continue.
My tongue worked against her carefully, probing with increasing pressure. The sensation was foreign to her—I could tell by the way she held herself, caught between uncertainty and interest. But she didn't pull away. She didn't ask me to stop.
"Oh..." The word slipped out, almost surprised. "That's... actually not bad."
I smiled against her skin, then pulled back long enough to reach for the lotion. Coating my fingers thoroughly, I returned to my position between her legs.
"I'm going to use my fingers now," I warned. "Tell me if it's too much."
She nodded, her eyes heavy-lidded.
I pressed one slick finger against her entrance, circling gently. The lotion made everything slippery, easing the way. I didn't push inside yet—just let her feel the pressure, the intrusion waiting to happen.
"Ready?"
"Stop asking and just do it."
Typical May. I pressed inward.
She sucked in a breath as my finger slid past the first ring of muscle. The tightness was incredible—far more intense than her vagina had ever been. I moved slowly, giving her time to adjust, watching her face for any sign of genuine pain.
She winced slightly, but didn't tell me to stop.
"Hurt?"
"Just... strange. Different. Give me a minute."
I waited. Her body gradually relaxed around my finger, the initial resistance easing. When I felt her muscles truly soften, I began to move. Small strokes, barely withdrawals, letting her get used to the sensation.
"There," she breathed. "That's... okay. That's okay."
"Good."
I added more lotion, ensuring everything remained slick. Then I pressed a second finger to join the first.
This time she did tense, her body instinctively resisting the increased stretch.
"Relax," I reminded her. "Push against it."
"That seems counterintuitive."
"Trust me."
She shot me a look, but did as I asked. The second finger slid in beside the first, and she exhaled sharply.
"Fuck. That's—mmm—full."
"Too much?"
"No. Just... full."
I worked my fingers slowly, stretching her carefully. The lotion helped, making the movement easier. I watched her face, the way her expression shifted from uncertainty to something more complicated—curiosity and discomfort and interest all tangled together.
"How does it feel?"
"Weird." She paused, considering. "But not bad weird. Just... different."
I curled my fingers slightly, searching for the spot that would change the sensation from strange to pleasurable. Her breath caught.
"There?"
"I—maybe—do that again."
I repeated the motion, pressing against the wall that separated her anus from her vagina. The pressure transmitted through, stimulating her g-spot from an unfamiliar angle.
"Oh." Her voice cracked. "Oh, that's—okay. Okay, that's actually good."
I smiled, continuing my careful exploration. My fingers moved in a steady rhythm, finding that spot again and again. Her hips began to move, small involuntary rolls that matched my pace.
"More," she whispered. "I think I can take more."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
I withdrew my fingers slowly, earning a disappointed sound from her. Then I reached for the lotion again, applying a generous amount to my cock. I was already hard again—watching her respond, feeling her tight around my fingers, had worked on me steadily.
"Tell me if you need me to stop."
"Alex." Her voice carried that note of fond exasperation again. "I will. Now would you please just—"
I positioned myself at her entrance, cutting off her words. The head of my cock pressed against the tight ring of muscle, slick and ready.
"Push out," I reminded her.
She did. I pushed forward.
The first inch was the hardest. Her body resisted, muscles clenching instinctively against the intrusion. I paused, letting her adjust, feeling her fight to relax.
"Breathe," I said.
"I'm breathing."
"Breathe slower."
She made a sound of frustration, but followed the instruction. Her breaths deepened, evening out. And as she exhaled, I felt her body soften around me.
I pressed deeper.
She gasped, her eyes flying wide. The stretch was clearly more than she'd expected—my cock was considerably larger than two fingers. But she didn't ask me to stop. Instead, she focused on her breathing, on consciously relaxing the muscles that wanted to fight me.
"Okay?" I asked, holding still once I was halfway inside.
"Give me... just a moment."
I waited. Her chest rose and fell with deliberate breaths. Her hands had found my shoulders, fingers digging into my flesh with almost bruising pressure.
"The pressure," she said finally. "It's intense. But not painful. Not exactly."
"Should I keep going?"
She nodded. "Slowly."
I obeyed. Each inch was a negotiation, a careful give-and-take between her body's resistance and my steady pressure. I watched her face throughout—the furrow of her brow, the way she bit her lip, the gradual softening as her muscles accepted what was happening.
When I was finally fully seated inside her, we both let out shaky breaths.
"Full," she repeated, almost wonderingly. "So incredibly full."
"Good full?"
"I'm not sure yet." Her laugh was strained but genuine. "Ask me again in a minute."
I stayed perfectly still, letting her adjust to the unprecedented sensation. Her body was so tight around me—tighter than anything I'd experienced before. The heat and pressure were nearly overwhelming, and I had to focus on my own control to keep from moving too soon.
After a long moment, she shifted her hips experimentally. The movement made her gasp, but she didn't pull away.
"Okay," she said slowly. "Okay. Try moving. But slowly."
I withdrew an inch, then pressed back in. She made a sound—somewhere between a moan and a whimper—and her fingers tightened on my shoulders.
"Again."
I repeated the motion. Slower this time, more controlled. The friction was intense, almost too much, but the lotion kept things slick enough to maintain.
"Oh..." Her voice dropped to something softer. "Oh, that's... that's actually..."
"Good?"
"I think so? It's hard to describe. It's like—mmm—like being stretched in reverse. And when you move, I can feel everything. Every ridge. Every vein."
I continued my slow strokes, letting her get used to the rhythm. Her body gradually softened further, accepting me more easily with each movement. The tightness remained, but the resistance faded, replaced by something more yielding.
"Faster," she said eventually. "I think I can take faster."
I increased my pace marginally. Her breath came faster, her chest rising and falling beneath her rumpled sweater. She was still mostly dressed, I realized—her clothing merely pushed aside rather than removed. Something about that added to the intensity, the sense that this was happening in a liminal space between normal life and something more primal.
"There," she gasped. "Right there—that angle—"
I adjusted my position, thrusting slightly upward. The change in angle pressed me against that internal wall, stimulating her g-spot from behind.
"Oh fuck!" The exclamation burst from her, loud and startled. "Oh—oh god—do that again—"
I did. Her head fell back, her mouth falling open. Her hips began to move in earnest now, rolling to meet my thrusts rather than simply accepting them.
"I didn't—mmmph—I didn't think it would feel like this—"
"What did you expect?"
"I don't know—pain, maybe—discomfort—but this is—" She broke off with a moan. "This is actually good. Really good."
I reached between us, finding her clit with my thumb. She jolted at the additional stimulation, her body clenching around me reflexively.
"Careful," I warned. "You'll make me come if you keep doing that."
"Then do it harder."
I obeyed, thrusting with more force. The wet sounds of our coupling filled the room—slick and obscene and undeniably arousing. Her moans grew louder, more frequent.
"Yes—just like that—fuck, Alex—"
"You like having my cock in your ass?"
"I—yes—I like it—fuck—I like it so much—"
The admission seemed to surprise her as much as it pleased me. I rewarded her by circling her clit faster, matching the rhythm of my hips.
"I'm going to—" She cut herself off with a sharp cry. "Something's happening—I don't know if—"
"Let it happen."
"But it's different—it's not like before—it's—"
I pressed deep, grinding against her internal wall while continuing my assault on her clit. She broke.
Her orgasm crashed through her differently than the previous ones—deeper, more diffuse, rolling through her body in waves rather than the sharp peaks I'd observed before. Her anus clenched around me in rhythmic pulses, and I had to bite back my own groan at the sensation.
"Alex—Alex—I'm—oh god—I'm—"
She couldn't seem to finish a sentence. Her body did the talking instead, shuddering and clenching around me, her fingers leaving marks on my shoulders that would definitely bruise.
When she finally stilled, her eyes were wide and almost disbelieving.
"That was..." She shook her head. "That was not what I expected."
"Good?"
"Good doesn't cover it." She laughed weakly. "I think you've ruined me for normal sex."
"We're not done yet."
Her eyes widened further. "You haven't—?"
"Not yet."
"Then what are you waiting for?"
I pulled back, nearly withdrawing completely, then slammed forward. She cried out, her oversensitive body jerking at the sensation.
"Ah! Fuck—careful—I just—mmm—"
"Can you take more?"
"Give me everything."
I stopped holding back.
My hips snapped forward with purpose now, chasing my own pleasure while still monitoring hers. She gasped and moaned beneath me, her body responding to each thrust with visible tremors.
"Harder," she demanded. "I can take it—give it to me harder—"
I gripped her hips, angling her for maximum depth. The new position let me drive deeper, filling her completely with each stroke.
"Oh god—oh fuck—yes—yes—fuck me—use me—"
Her words dissolved into cries and moans, punctuated by sharp gasps each time I bottomed out inside her. The tightness was almost too much—the pressure building at the base of my spine much faster than I'd anticipated.
"May—I'm close—"
"Inside." Her voice was ragged. "Finish inside—I want to feel it—"
I thrust deep one final time, burying myself to the hilt as my orgasm hit. Hot spurts of cum flooded her insides, triggering another smaller peak in her. She whimpered, her body clenching rhythmically around me, milking every drop.
We stayed locked together as the waves passed, neither of us willing to break the connection. The sensation of my release inside her—bare, raw, with nothing between us—was overwhelming. She clenched again, and I felt my own release being squeezed back out around my softening cock.
When I finally withdrew, a trickle of cum followed. It ran down between her cheeks, staining the couch cushion beneath her. She didn't seem to care.
"Holy shit," she breathed.
"Yeah."
"That was..." She seemed to search for words and fail. "I have no words. That was incredible."
"Better than expected?"
"Incalculably." She stretched, catlike, her body loose and satisfied. "You've officially corrupted me. I hope you're proud."
I leaned down to kiss her, slow and tender. "Extremely proud."
She smiled against my mouth. "Good."
We lay there in comfortable silence, sticky and disheveled and thoroughly satisfied. The apartment remained quiet around us, the city continuing its endless motion beyond the windows. Inside these walls, though, time had stopped. Just us. Just this moment.
May's fingers traced idle patterns on my chest, her touch light and thoughtful.
"Thank you," she said eventually.
"For what?"
"For making that good. For being patient. For not treating me like I was fragile or inexperienced just because it was my first time."
"You asked for what you wanted. I just gave it to you."
She smiled. "That's what made it good."
I pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Anytime you want to explore more, I'm here."
"Oh, we're definitely doing that again." Her voice carried that familiar note of determined practicality. "Just not tonight. I need time to recover."
"Take all the time you need."
She shifted closer, tucking herself against my side. Her body was warm, fitting against mine like she belonged there. Maybe she did.
"You're staying," she said. It wasn't a question.
"Where else would I go?"
She made a satisfied sound and closed her eyes. Within minutes, her breathing had evened out into sleep.
I stayed awake a while longer, watching the soft rise and fall of her chest. May Parker—practical, confident, unflinching May—had trusted me with something she'd never given anyone else. The weight of that gift settled over me like a second skin.
Outside, the city hummed its endless song. Inside, we existed in our own world, temporarily separate from everything that waited beyond these walls. Tomorrow, reality would intrude again—responsibilities, obligations, the complicated web of relationships that made up our shared lives.
But for now, there was only this. Only us. Only the quiet aftermath of something new, something that had changed us both in ways we were still discovering.
I closed my eyes and let sleep claim me, May warm and trusting in my arms.