I grinned, “Christos, do you ever notice how hot you are?”

“I—”

I pressed my finger to his lips. “Of course you do.” I smiled.

He slid his hands under my ass, pulled my hips toward his. One hand supporting my back, he sat me up on his lap. I wrapped my legs around his waist, our chests inches apart.

I didn’t resist when he lifted my shirt over my head. It joined Christos’ shirt on the floor. I looked at our two shirts in a tangle on my rug. Somehow, they were sordidly symbolic. Christos and I were about to be similarly tangled.

My breasts were now fully exposed, my nipples tight with need. I leaned forward until they pressed against Christos.

Christos tipped his head back enough to gaze at my breasts. “Fuck, you are so totally fine, Samantha. You are perfect. Damn, you are unbelievable. Do you realize how hot you are?” he asked, biting his lower lip and wrinkling his nose with animalistic desire.

I was too shy to respond.

“When Mattel was making the Barbie doll,” he smiled, “they called God and asked him for your measurements.”

 I rolled my eyes. “I think Mattel should file a cease and desist order against that joke.”

We laughed together.

“Let me put it another way,” Christos said, “every time I look at you, Samantha, I’m reminded of how perfect you are in every respect. Every last bit of you, inside and out. Your flawless skin, your tender heart. Your perfect curves and your unbridled joy. Your alluring eyes and your gorgeous laughter. You are the epitome of beauty, you are the ideal to which all women aspire. Your physical beauty makes Aphrodite weep with envy. She doesn’t have what you have. No other woman on this planet, or goddess above, does.” He let his words linger.

I was speechless, to say the least. My mouth hung open and I clamped it shut before a moth or whatever flew into it.

“So, should we take our pants off now?” he smiled cockily.

“Uh, yeah!” I joked.

“You wanna go first?”

“No, I’ll let you.” I lifted my legs and he slid his feet onto the floor.

He unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down, then pulled them off. He was now down to socks and boxers. He stood up and faced me.

I savored every inch of him with my eyes. He was unbelievably constructed from top to bottom. His powerfully muscled legs were the pillars that supported his sleek, narrow hips. Wedging out from his pelvis were his rugged abs, the foundation for his massive chest and shoulders. His muscled arms hung at his sides like steel girders. And those god damn tattoos! Why were they so unbelievably sexy?!? On top of it all, like a golden monument, was that perfect face, angelic and devilish at the same time.

His eyes shone into me and I felt the heat between my legs intensify.

My eyes gravitated back toward the rod of iron hidden beneath his boxers, which were tented out comically. I stifled a laugh. Was I ruining the mood again? I couldn’t help myself. One step at a time.

“How many rings do you have in that circus tent of yours?” I giggled.

“Three,” he grinned. “Dancing elephants in one, lion taming in another, and a tiny car with a bunch of clowns hanging out in the last. Take your pick.”

“Are the clowns blowing bugles?” I smiled.

“No,” he frowned, “they’re girl clowns, and they’re blowing skin flutes.” He shook his head, smirking. “Come on, you were supposed to pick lion-taming. How is a crowded clown car sexy?”

“I can’t help it! I like clowns!” I laughed.

“You are so wrong,” he smiled his dimpled smile. “Now, quit stalling.”

It didn’t take long for my laughter to fade as I continued to take in his amazing body. His nearly naked, aroused, throbbing…BODY! His body! I was only looking at his body!

He stood in front of me smiling, enjoying the way my eyes were devouring him. “Your turn, agápi mou.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Um…you’re still wearing your socks.”

He peeled each one off.

All that was left between me and his clown bugle…were his boxers. My nerves rattled again, although not nearly as loudly as before my massage. I stalled anyway, looking for the most obvious distraction. “What about your boxers? You haven’t taken them off!” Suddenly, I realized this strategy was not going to help my nerves.

He slid his boxers down and stepped out of them casually.

Holy shit.

I mean, I’d seen it. I’d touched it, I’d shared a bed with it and Christos. Yes, it seemed sort of like a third person that snuggled between us at night. Because it was so very, very large. And it was pointing right at me. Like a cruise missile, laser sights targeting my…oh, my.

He smirked, and chuckled. Obviously, he was reading my mind. Or his guided missile had sonar, radar, and ESP-ar.

“Your turn,” he grinned. “Do you need help?”

“I’m pretty sure I can’t even move.” My eyes were glued to his Member’s Only Member, a club to which I was about to gain admittance. “I’m going to need some help, I think.”

I sat up on the edge of the bed, topless, braless, my breasts inches from his Holy Manhood, Batman.

I unsnapped my jeans and leaned back on the bed, propped on my elbows. “Care to help a damsel in distress?”

“I’m about to steal your virtue, young lady. Is this the sort of assistance you require?” he winked. “Or should we stop off at the vineyard for some…”

I shook my head.

He leaned over and tugged at the sides of my jeans, pulling them slowly down, leaving my panties behind, thank goodness. My jeans passed over my thighs…oh my god…over my knees. No going back. He stopped when they were bunched around my ankles.

Then he knelt down and raised one of my feet a few inches off the carpet, holding the sole in his hand almost like he was about to do the glass slipper routine. Instead, he carefully peeled my jeans off one foot, then the other. Prince Charming.

My panties were my only protection. Suddenly shy, I plopped back on the bed and crossed my arms over my breasts as my most pressing issue came up once again. And I didn’t mean the pink torpedo shooting out from between Christos’ legs.

“You know, Christos,” I said, my sexy bedroom voice replaced by a trembling one. “I’m still a virgin.”

“I know,” he whispered, still kneeling at my feet. He rested a comforting hand on my knee.

“And you’re not.” I winced when I said it, dropping my head onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. I teared instantly. Why did this bother me so much? I had no explanation. But I was tremendously sad, as if I’d lost something before ever finding it.

Christos crawled onto the bed and laid beside me. He propped himself on one elbow and gazed at me.

He stroked my hair out of my face and smiled at me in a small, private, intimate way. There was a sudden softness to his face that was new to me. It was perhaps the most beautiful expression I’d ever seen on another human being. I took several deep breaths, and really took in the look of loving compassion in his eyes. It was tremendously comforting. He was completely vulnerable and open to me in that moment.

As he opened his mouth to speak, my heart raced out of control. I think I feared what came next, simply because it was the unknown.

“I’ve never given my heart to anyone, agápi mou. You are my first. And you will be my last. You are my forever.”

My heart stopped. I couldn’t believe my ears.

The universe collapsed in on itself.

Somehow, on an atomic level, I knew his words were the truth. He was truth.

Oh my god.

I knew then that he could take my virginity. I was ready to let him.

I reached up to caress his cheek. My hand trembled. I could barely speak as my tears flowed freely. I whispered, “Christos, I, I love you, so much, I…”

He gazed into my soul, his eyes alight with brilliant, abundant love. His lips curled into a dimpled smile, but the customary cockiness was not there. Only warmth, acceptance, certainty, and love.

Love.

My heart slowed and my breath returned. I realized that I was not about to let Christos take my virginity. I was willingly giving it to him, giving my gift to the one man to whom it truly belonged, for him to treasure and protect forever.

I was filled with a warm, soothing confidence that this gift I was about to give to Christos was unique, and this moment would never be repeated in my entire life. Or his. It only happened once. For either of us.

This was it.

This was true love.

Christos lowered his lips to mine and began kissing me.

Interlude

SAMANTHA

We kissed passionately for a long time. Our lips were joined, our tongues entwined, our hearts united. His hands stroked my face, his murmurs caressed my soul. We kissed increasingly deeply, our passion growing and expanding to encircle both of us, blocking out the outside world.

All that existed was Christos and myself.

I was scared, but I had never felt safer. Worried, but confident that Christos was the only man on Earth who could protect my tender heart. I was fearful, but the connection I felt with Christos gave me courage. My heart had been empty for so long, but now I felt it filled to completion. With Christos.

At last.

His hand slid down my naked chest and his fingers brushed across my nipples, stopping on one, gently plucking and twisting. My nipple ached with succulent hardness. I moaned softly, our lips still together, and he swallowed my passion.

His powerful hand kneaded the entirety of my full breast. Swirls of pleasure whirlpooled around it before dissolving throughout my body.