New Fic: First Time for Everything (1/10): B/J: NC-17
Well, I never thought I'd be saying this again, but I'm writing a new series :) Inspired by and dedicated to the wonderful paddies, I'm taking a crack at writing "the fic of her dreams" (yes, all 10!). Read her original request or just go right on into the fic!

Hope you enjoy it :)



Title: First Time for Everything
Chapter: 1/10
Justin's POV : NC-17 for coarse language and explicit sex
Premise: Series fic based on paddies, request for "the fic of her dreams".

This is the first installment: #1 First time Justin GAVE a blowjob.

First Time for Everything

It's warmer and wetter and bigger than you thought, and you sit up to get a better angle, to get more of him inside you, kneeling between his legs as he lies back on the couch. The hardwood bites into your knees, but you don't really notice, just concentrate on him and this. His dick pulses inside your mouth and he tastes... just... good, like salt and sex and your own come when you've sucked it off your fingers after jacking off.

You make sure your teeth are covered and put one hand on his hip and wrap the other around the base of his cock, pushing him further between your lips, feeling the stretch of your jaw as you tense - you try to relax but can't really because you're too excited and overwhelmed and nervous and desperate to do this right. So you breathe slowly through your nose and sit up more and keep filling your mouth with his dick until your lips hit your fist and your breath comes sharp and you swallow around him and...

"Fuck," he moans and twists his fingers into your short hair, pulling the strands between his knuckles, nails scratching softly at your scalp. You take him even deeper into your mouth, touching the back of your tongue, nearing the back of your throat till you feel like you might gag, and you do a little, bucking forward, breath catching and stomach jumping into your throat. He grips your hair hard in his fingers and eases you back.

"Slow, s'okay, don't rush," he mumbles and pets your hair softly and you glance up at him, your eyes catching his and he rubs his thumb across the arch of your cheekbone, his eyes lazily closing as he leans his head back on the couch, and you know you're doing okay. You pull up till you can touch his cock head with the tip of your tongue and suck him softly, then flick his slit with your tongue, back and forth and back and forth; taste the slippery pre-come as it coats your tongue, thick and clear and stringing from his slit to your mouth. You spread it across your lips and mouth, rub his cock across your skin, slowing to kiss and lick his slit, to run your tongue around his dick head, letting spit drip down your tongue to his dick to your hand.

"Jesus," he gasps, his fingers tightening on your hair, other hand dragging down the side of your face, across your cheek, palm warm on your skin, damp and your face is flushed, hot, sweaty, Christ. You try to remember all the things he's done to you, the things that made your eyes roll back and the come shoot from your dick before you'd even realized that it happened... but you can't remember, it's all a blur and so you just try to breathe, taking short shaky breaths and filling your nose with the smell of soap and cock and just that smell of the loft that you've come to love, even though you've only been here three times before. Cut pine, fresh laundry, furniture polish, cigarettes, bourbon, condoms...

You want to touch yourself but don't want to break contact with his skin, need to hold onto him, one hand pumping his dick into your mouth, the other spread out on his hip. The tips of his fingers slide under your jaw and you feel his hand guiding you, holding you, following you... it's intimate like you never thought and you stare up at him, mouth suctioning on his cock, trail your hand from his hip and press it against his flat stomach, warm under your palm. You feel him breathing fast and erratic and his other hand slides behind your neck and pushes you forward, closer, deeper and he opens his eyes and sees you and smiles and you want to smile back but can't with your mouth full of his cock.

And then he pumps his hips slowly, fucking your mouth like it was your ass, but slower and softer and smoother and you breathe and run your tongue along the underside of his shaft and let him fuck you, fuck your mouth and throat, use you for this, and you open your lips to let your spit slide down his dick and you pump your fist up and down his cock, spreading your spit on him, slicking him with it and you sit up more and moan in your throat because you fucking love it, love this feeling of fullness and you close your eyes and bob up and down on his shaft over and over and he fucks your mouth and then...

Fingers grip your hair and he sucks in a breath and pushes inside your mouth and gets even bigger, hotter, deeper, more and you hold your breath for what you know is going to happen... and then it does, warm come spilling into your throat and you swallow hard without thinking, without waiting to really taste it and know it and let it fill your mouth. But it's inside you now. He's inside you now, and his dick softens on your tongue and you swallow come and spit and sigh softly through your nose as you let him fall from between your swollen lips.

He grips the back of your neck tightly and drags you up his body and kisses you hard, tongue lapping inside your mouth, taking away whatever's left, and that... that is simply the hottest kiss you've ever had.

"Not bad," he says, face shining with warmth, smile playing around his lips. "I mean, for a first timer. You weren't lying when you said you'd never done this before, were you?" He looks at you suspiciously, raising an eyebrow, and you start to stutter out a protest, but then realize he's kidding when the corner of his mouth curls into a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners softly.

"What can I say, I'm a natural," you say and bite your bottom lip to stop from smiling too broadly, to stop it from taking over your face. You roll off his lap and melt into the couch, feeling sated and relaxed, even though you didn't come. But you feel him inside you still, your lips swollen and hot and his taste fills your mouth.

He kisses you on the forehead then steps back into his jeans, pulling them up around his hips as he stands up, watching as you lay back on the couch... stretching and smiling and looking more than a little pleased with yourself.

He heads into the kitchen and you hear him rustling around, then the quiet buzz of a dial tone. "You hungry?" he says, looking at you upside down from behind the couch.

"Always," you murmur, sliding down the cushions and rubbing your grumbling stomach.

"You're not allergic to peanuts or anything, are you? Because Thai food is shit without peanut sauce," he starts to dial as you shake your head 'no'.

He orders and you're almost too taken with yourself and what you just did to realize that Brian has never, ever ordered food for you before. But not quite. You figure you did a fucking good job if he's ready to buy you dinner after that and you grin inside and think about how only two weeks ago you'd never been fucked, never sucked cock, and definitely never had an incredibly hot guy order Thai food for you.

You let your tongue slip across your lips and taste the salt and sweat there, licking the taste of his pubes away, and you wonder if he'd let you suck his cock again, right now. You loved it. You can't wait to do it again. You somehow know you were born to do this and know you were good at it. Really good.

You close your eyes and stroke your cock slowly through your jeans, fingers pressing against denim, your dick hard and warm and...

His fingers cover yours and you open your eyes to see him fall to his knees in front of you. He pulls your hand from your dick and puts it on the sofa cushion, then slides his thumb under the button on your jeans, pulling them open.

You watch him through lazy eyes, follow his tongue as it slips across his lips, lift up your hips when he pushes his hands under your rear to pull your pants down. You feel wanton, your bare bottom on the thousand dollar sofa cushion, the soft fabric smooth across your skin. But he doesn't seem to care, and you know that this definitely won't be the first time your ass makes its imprint on the seat. His thumb runs along the length of your exposed cock and he kisses your stomach, one hand on your hip, the other working it's way towards your asshole. You try really hard not to come at the thought of it.

"There's more to learn," he says, looking up at you, chin brushing against your pubes, finger pressing against your hole.

You arch up off the couch into his touch, close your eyes and whisper out: "I'm ready."

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