I lose my virginity

I give her a silent excited nod and we both sprint to the bedroom. It was like a race to see who could get undressed and on the bed first.

Sarah won by half a second, diving onto the mattress in nothing but her underwear while I was still wrestling with my belt. She laughed breathlessly, hair wild across the pillow, and for a moment she looked exactly like the girl I'd fallen in love with—not the Sarah who'd been walking around like she was carrying some terrible secret, but the one who used to dare me to sneak out of class just to sit on the bleachers and make fun of the track team.

I crawled over her, my hands shaking as I traced the line of her collarbone. She was warm and soft and familiar, but there was something else there too—a charge in the air that hadn't been there before, like static electricity before a storm.

"Tell me," I whispered against her neck, surprising myself with how **** I sounded.

"Tell you what?" But she knew what I meant. Her voice had that teasing edge that meant she was going to make me work for it.

"About him. About today."

She went still beneath me, and for a second, I thought she might push me away, tell me I was being sick or perverted or both. Instead, her hands found my shoulders, fingers digging in just hard enough to leave marks.

"He was different today," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Angrier. More... confident."

The words hit me like a physical thing, sending heat straight through my chest. I pressed closer, my forehead against hers, breathing hard.

"How?"

She bit her lip, studying my face in the dim light filtering through the curtains. "Are you sure you want to know?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice as he fingers wrapped around my shaft

"He didn't ask permission for anything," she said, and I felt her pulse quicken under my palm as she pulled my cock into her pussy. "He just... took what he wanted."

The words sent fire through my veins as I moved inside her. She was slick and ready, her body responding in ways that felt both familiar and completely foreign.

"What else?" I managed to gasp out.

Sarah's eyes fluttered closed, her back arching as she spoke. "He pushed me against the kitchen counter. Didn't even let me finish my coffee." Her voice broke on the last word as I thrust deeper. "Said he was tired of pretending to be polite, and being walked over."

I groaned, the image burning itself into my brain. The kitchen counter where we ate breakfast every morning, where she'd stood just hours ago looking guilty and ashamed. Now I could picture Wiley's hands on her waist, his mouth against her ear, claiming space that had always been mine.

"Did you like it?" The question tore out of me before I could stop it.

She opened her eyes then, looking directly at me with an expression I'd never seen before—part confession, part challenge. "Yes."

The simple honesty of it nearly undid me. I could feel myself getting close, but I needed more. Needed to understand what was happening to us, to me.

"Tell me more," I whispered, my rhythm becoming more urgent.

Sarah's breath hitched as she wrapped her legs around my waist. "He said things... about you. About how you never really appreciated what you had."

Each word was like gasoline on a fire I didn't know was burning inside me. I should have been furious, should have pulled away and demanded she never speak to him again. Instead, I found myself moving faster, harder, chasing something I couldn't name.

"What did you say back?"

"Nothing," she panted. "I couldn't... he wouldn't let me talk."