First Time with Beto
After the intensity of the moment, I felt the heavy, warm weight of Beto resting upon me. I had clung to him with everything I had, my fingers digging into his back and my legs locked tightly around his hips, as if terrified that he might vanish the moment I finally let go. I whispered my love for him, feeling a profound sense of trust and surrender.
He looked at me with such tenderness, his voice a soft murmur in my ear, asking if I had enjoyed making love for the first time. I answered him with a mixture of shyness and emotion, tears pricking my eyes. I told him that I knew I hadn’t made a mistake and that I had saved the best of myself for him.
As we lay there, I could feel the lingering pulse of him inside me and the dampness of our shared passion against my thighs. For a fleeting second, a spark of anxiety flared in my mind regarding the lack of protection, but the look of absolute devotion in his eyes calmed my heart. We drifted into a peaceful sleep, entwined in each other’s arms.