Blue Eyes Crying in Pain by sarahhh

Blue Eyes Crying in Pain by sarahhh

Discover the intense and emotional journey of a character in the "Blue Eyes Crying in Pain" adult sex story. Dive into a compelling narrative that explores passion, desire, and the complexities of adult relationships.<br/>
I lost something besides my virginity that fateful day.

On this night the raindrops beat against my bedroom window sill long after the lightning had driven me inside. I took the picture of David from under my bed, and I wept uncontrollably as I listed to “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” over and over.

* * *

I worked at a factory for part of the summer after my first year of college, but then I got another job offer that was related to my chosen field, journalism. The pay was not as good, but I just had to take it for the experience. Little did I know what kind of experience I was in for very soon.

The offer came from a print-on-demand company in my hometown that published books for authors who couldn’t or wouldn’t publish through traditional methods for one reason or another. This company offered numerous services such as electronic books, hard cover and paperback, editing, distribution, promotion, websites, and much more.

My function was to work with the author and the editor assigned to the book to convert the manuscript to the proper format required by our publishing software. Some manuscripts were submitted via paper, some on disk, and some electronically. Basically I had to get the manuscript in Microsoft Word and clean it up, incorporate the editor’s recommended revisions, and obtain the author’s feedback, and ultimately approval. This often took a lot of back and forth communication between the author and myself.

With respect to the first four books I handled, there was no problem communicating with the author. I had phone numbers and other information. Two of the authors resided nearby, and we met in person several times. But the fifth book presented a dilemma. It was a romance novel entitled Take Me to Heaven about a young woman’s first time.

The author of Take Me to Heaven, Emily David, seemed quite unusual, at least very different than the other four authors I had worked with extensively. The book was incredibly erotic, although it didn’t contain any explicit sex. As I read the book for the first time, I thought about my best friend, Jenny, and her propensity for “hooking up.” No romance—no commitment—just sex. I didn’t want it to be like that for me, especially not the first time. I wanted it to be like Take Me to Heaven.

Emily David and I exchanged numerous e-mails concerning the book, but she wouldn’t talk to me on the phone. When our communication eventually turned a little personal, Emily asked for a picture of me. Quite unusual I thought, but I complied. I sent her one where I wore my favorite T-shirt and black and gold miniskirt.

In her next e-mail Emily wrote, “Sarah, you are extraordinarily beautiful. I love your long red hair. I can see you have very, very blue eyes. Wow! That miniskirt! And I can see your nipples through the T-shirt. You must not be wearing a bra.” Now, does that sound like a woman? I don’t think so. Not unless she’s a girl who prefers girls. The book sure didn’t sound like that to me. Emily also asked, “Do you really love dick, like it says on the front of your T-shirt in the picture?”

I wrote back, “Emily, that is a football shirt! Please take note that under ‘I Love (heart) Dick’ in the big black letters is the word ‘LeBeau’ in the little gold letters. Dick LeBeau is the Pittsburgh Steelers defensive coordinator. Okay, Emily, I know you’re a guy. It doesn’t matter. Authors use pseudonyms for various reasons. Some use one to disguise proclivity. Others to hide moonlighting and so forth. No big deal. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But if you want to, please call me. I promise confidentiality.” I repeated my office phone number and also listed my cell phone number.

Two days later I got a call on my cell phone. A definitely male voice on the other end that I did not recognize. “Hello, Sarah.”

“Hello. Who is this? I don’t recognize your voice or number.”

“It’s me.”

“Who?”

“It’s me—Emily.”

“I knew it!”

“Yes, that you did, Sarah. What gave me away?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Wanting a picture and then what you said. About the miniskirt and stuff. Like if I really love dick. Sure I do! Dick LeBeau.”

Now he laughed. I liked the sound of it. “Well, I couldn’t help it, Sarah. You . . . made an impression on me.”

“Just what is your name, sir?”

“David. But not Emily David. No, it’s David Peterson.”

“Well, David Peterson, why did you pretend to be Emily David?”

“You had to ask, ‘Little Miss Intuition.’ My book, Take Me to Heaven is written in the first person from a young woman’s perspective about her first time. How would that play if the author was a man?”

“Yes, I see your point, Emily, ‘er I mean David.” I giggled. “Makes sense to me.”

“Besides,” he added, “I feel a little . . . I don’t know . . . what with being a guy and . . . writing a romance novel. I . . . feel weird.”

“Don’t you dare feel that way, David! I think your book is beautiful! Wonderful. Incredible. So . . . memorable. I just hope it’s . . . like that . . . oh never mind.”

“What, Sarah?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me!”

“Take me to heaven,” I whispered.

“What? I can’t hear you, Sarah.”

“David, I can’t talk right now. Pressing business with my boss. Can I call you back later?”

“Sure. I’ll talk to you again soon, Sarah.”

Oh yeah, I had to go. To the bathroom. Not for number one or number two. No, for number three. With my new vibrator.

* * *

David and I talked on the phone frequently over the next week. Each conversation seemed more personal. We really got to know one another quite well in a short period of time. And then we decided to meet. He lived about a hundred miles away, and we agreed on an old amusement park on a small lake about halfway between us.

“Please wear your ‘I Love Dick’ T-shirt,” he requested. We both had a good laugh over that. “And that itty-bitty miniskirt,” he added.

The moment I saw him I knew it. He would be my first. Sooner or later. Hopefully sooner. I had been spending a great deal of time doing number three lately. He brought me roses, just like in his book. So handsome. Very, very blue eyes. Like mine.

On the Ferris wheel David put his arm around me. I melted. The first kiss was soft and shy, just like in his book. The second kiss was so passionate it made me shiver. “Are you cold, Sarah?” he asked with concern as he noticed my goose bumps.

“No, not really. Must be the ride.” Actually, I was hot. Very hot. And I could feel the damp spot. I wanted a ride all right. On you know what. My hand accidentally fell in David’s lap. He didn’t react. Other than he had an erection. I didn’t move my hand until the Ferris wheel stopped.

“David, it’s a good thing you’re wearing a long baggy shirt that covers the front of your pants,” I remarked coyly.

“Yes, isn’t it, Sarah,” he agreed, laughing. “It’s all your fault you know.”

“Well, I certainly hope so!” I really, really liked this guy. “Would you like me to do something about it, David?”

“Uh . . .”

“Let’s go for a boat ride, David,” I suggested. “Cruise the lagoons.” There was a place on the far side of the park that rented canoes and row boats.

* * *

We rented the biggest rowboat they had.

David did the rowing. After an hour of insignificant chatter, I mustered up the courage to ask, “David, do you believe in love at first sight?”

“Yes. I wrote about it in my book, didn’t I?”

“You did, indeed. But that was a fantasy, wasn’t it?”

“A fantasy, yes, but the way I imagine that true love can be.”

“Me too! David, your story is so romantic. The best romance novel I’ve ever read, and I’ve read more than a few. It’s awesome, dude!” I felt real juicy.

“Thank you, Sarah. You are so sweet. I mean that sincerely. And so lovely.”

“I know we just met, but I like you a lot. A whole lot.”

“I like you a whole lot, too,”

“Pull the boat over into that secluded area to your right.”

David did. We began to kiss again. He rested a hand on my breast. I took it and slipped it under my ‘I Love Dick’ T-shirt. No bra. I didn’t want to take the shirt off in case another boat got close.

My hand fell in his lap again. Not by accident this time. It was hard. I unzipped his pants, reached inside, and played with him. Then I pulled him out. He had a pretty penis. That’s the only way I can describe it. The prettiest one I had ever seen, and the only one I had ever touched. It felt good. I stroked him gently, fascinated.

“David?”

“Yes, Sarah? That feels so good. You have such soft, delicate hands.”

“I have a confession.”

“What is it?”

“I’m a virgin. Your penis is the first I . . . ever actually had in my hand, or anywhere else. I don’t know how far I can go. Please be patient with me. But I would like to please you with my hand. Right now.”

He cupped my face with both of his hands. “Whatever you wish.”

We sat in the bottom of the boat facing one another, legs crossed. “David, show me how you like it. Put your hand over mine.”

“You’re doing just fine, but okay.” He covered my hand with his. “Just that this.” He guided me with one hand and tweaked my nipples with the other. “Talk dirty to me, Sarah.”

“Uh . . . I’ll try. Do you like this, David? Do you like my hand on your cock?” I purred. “Rubbing up and down like this. Do you like my breasts? Do you like my nipples? You seem rather amused by them, honey.”

“Oh yeah,” he moaned.

“You can lick and suck my nipples if you want to.” He lifted the shirt by the bottom up to my neck and did just that. All the while I stroked his cock lovingly with his hand over mine. “Would you like me to suck your cock?”

“Oh yeah,” he moaned again.

“One day. One day soon, I’ll put you in my mouth. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Sarah,” he moaned once more.

“You can cum all over my breasts and face. Would you like that?”

“Yes, I would. Very much.”

“You’ll be the first—the first cum I taste. My girlfriend, Jenny, sucks cock. I watched her. I think I know how.”

“You watched her?”

“Yes, I watched her perform fellatio on three frat brothers at the same time at the last big bash of the school year. I watched her do a convict at the factory where we worked earlier this summer. Jenny likes it. She likes to suck cock. She likes cum.”