First time

Emily was still straddling him, her thighs warm around his hips, her body flushed and damp from the orgasm he’d just given her. Her hair was a mess in the best way, and her lips were kiss-bitten and parted, chest rising and falling against his.

She rocked her hips once—slow and deliberate.

Eli gasped beneath her, his cock trapped between them and already hardening again. That little shift of her hips, skin on skin, was all it took to make his breath catch and his hands twitch where they rested at her sides.

She smirked, pleased, and leaned forward just slightly, weight balanced on her knees as she ground down again—just a little more this time, the slide of her slick folds against him torturously wet.

“I’m going to give you another choice,” she murmured, her voice breathy but steady.

He blinked up at her, dazed. “You keep doing that.”

“What, giving you choices?” she teased, her grin still soft.

“Yeah,” he said, a little breathless. “You… you obviously know way more about this than I do. Why do you keep asking me what I want to do?”

Emily’s eyes held his a beat longer, the amusement fading just slightly into something more serious. She tilted her head, then sat back a bit on his thighs, still straddling him but no longer grinding.

“Okay, two things here. First is that, you’re right—I do know more. In our case, I’ve got the experience, I’ve got the confidence, and I can lead.” Here she paused and made sure he was paying attention. “But you need to be very careful how you phrase something like that. If I were an insecure girl, I could misinterpret what you just said as meaning I was a slut.”

Eli’s eyes widened a little.

She nods. “Yeah, some people can be touchy about words like ‘experience,’ or ‘age,’ or even ‘know what you’re doing’.”

“Now, I obviously don’t think that as you’re literally asking why I’m doing something in a situation where I’m teaching you, but it is something to keep in mind for other women.”

She looked down at him, her fingers brushing his cheek.

“Now, for the second part. Sometimes—a lot of the time—when a guy just sits back and lets the woman do everything, or never voices what he wants, or never takes the lead… she starts to wonder if he even wants her. Or worse—that he thinks she’s easy. That he’s just letting her do what she wants because she wants it, and he’s not really into it himself.”

Eli’s eyes widened a little.

Emily nodded. “It sounds stupid, but trust me—it happens. It’s about perception. And unless you’re dating a mind-reader, she’s not going to know whether you’re quiet because you’re nervous, or because you think she’s a slut.”

She watched him as that landed. Saw the sudden tension in his jaw, the guilt that flashed through his eyes—not because he thought that, but because he understood how easily silence could be misread.

“…Oh,” he said, softly.

“Yeah.” She leaned down again, her weight returning to his lap in a way that made his cock twitch against her. “So I give you choices because I want you to know it’s okay to speak up. I want you to learn how to participate. To want things. To ask for them. To touch back. To take the lead when you’re ready.”

Her lips brushed his again—soft, slow, like punctuation.

“I want you to be a good lover,” she whispered, “not just a good student.”

He stared at her a second longer. Then nodded, once. “Yeah. I get that. I… I can see why that matters.”

A beat.

“Okay,” he said, his voice raspier now. “So… what’s my choice this time?”

Emily’s eyes darkened just slightly, heat sliding back into her smile.

“This time,” she said, grinding slow and slick against him again, “it’s how you want to lose your virginity.”

She shifted her weight deliberately, pressing the length of his cock between her folds, soaking him with every roll of her hips. Not guiding him in—yet—but letting him feel what was waiting.

“Do you want it slow?” she asked, her lips brushing his jaw. “Laid back, missionary, gentle? You under me, or me on top, taking my time…?”

Another grind, her breath catching.

“Or…” she murmured, licking at his neck, “do you want something deeper… rougher? Me riding you harder? Maybe you behind me, hands on my hips while I moan into the mattress…”

Her hips rolled again—wet, hot, perfect.

“Either way,” she whispered, her mouth at his ear now, “you’ll be buried inside me. Just depends what kind of first time you want to remember.”