The following story is a work of fiction and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. It is important to note that all characters in this story are over the age of 18 and the content of the story is intended for adult readers only. Additionally, please note that this story is written with help of artificial intelligence.
A Perfect First Time ~ by DarkTalons
The top floor of the house was Ethan’s kingdom, a sweet little setup his dad had handed over when he turned 18 a few months back. Big house, rich neighborhood, but up here it was just him—his bedroom with a messy queen bed, a bathroom with a shower he barely kept clean, and a chill hangout room with a beat-up couch, a TV, and a mini fridge stocked with sodas. His dad was downstairs, probably buried in work or passed out with a whiskey, so the top floor was a fortress of privacy. Perfect for tonight, when Sophie—his best friend since middle school—was sprawled on the couch next to him, her legs tucked under her, flipping through streaming options like it mattered.
Sophie had just turned 18 a couple days ago, and she was glowing with that post-birthday high. Her dark hair was loose, framing her face, and her hazel eyes sparkled every time she laughed at one of his dumb jokes. But Ethan’s attention kept slipping somewhere else—her hands. For her birthday, she’d gotten her nails done for the first time, and fuck, they were killing him. Not crazy long, just a half-centimeter past her fingertips, almond-shaped, painted a glossy deep red that caught the TV’s flicker. She waved them around as she talked, oblivious to the way his jeans were getting tighter every time those tips flashed.
He’d never told her—or anyone—about his thing for nails. Didn’t even know why it hit him so hard. Something about the way they looked—sleek, sharp, sexy—made his cock twitch like nothing else. Lately, he’d been fantasizing nonstop: those long, polished claws stroking him, scraping his skin, driving him fucking wild. And now here she was, waving them in his face, totally clueless. He shifted on the couch, tugging his hoodie down to hide the growing bulge, pretending to care about whatever movie she was picking.
Sophie, though, had her own secret simmering. She’d been crushing on Ethan for years—those soft brown eyes, the messy hair he never brushed, the way he grinned like he knew something she didn’t. She’d never had a boyfriend, never even kissed anyone, but she’d spent way too many nights imagining him being her first. His room felt like the perfect place—safe, private, theirs. Tonight, with her new nails making her feel bold, she was ready to nudge things past “just friends.” The movie? Some random horror flick. Didn’t matter. It was just noise.
“Alright, this one,” she said, clicking play, settling back with a smirk. Her hand brushed his arm as she reached for a soda, those red nails grazing his skin, and Ethan’s breath hitched. She didn’t notice—or maybe she did, because her eyes flicked to his, lingering a second too long.
Halfway through the movie, the tension was choking him. She’d shifted closer, her knee against his thigh, her fingers tapping the couch armrest—tap, tap, tap, those nails glinting. His cock was rock-hard now, straining against his boxers, and he couldn’t fucking focus. “You okay?” she asked, voice soft, catching him staring at her hand.
“Uh—yeah,” he lied, voice rough. “Just… your nails. They’re, uh, cool. New, right?”
She grinned, holding up her hand, wiggling her fingers. “Yep. Birthday treat. You like ‘em?” Her tone was teasing, innocent, but the way those red tips moved sent a jolt straight to his dick.
“Fuck, yeah,” he blurted, then froze, cheeks burning. She blinked, then laughed—a little nervous, a little curious.
“Really?” she pressed, scooting closer, her thigh pressing against his now. “Like… a lot?” She dragged one nail lightly down his forearm, testing, and he couldn’t hide the shudder—or the bulge tenting his jeans.
“Sophie—” he started, but she cut him off, her crush kicking into gear. She’d seen that look in his eyes, felt the heat, and fuck it, she was going for it.
“Ethan,” she whispered, leaning in, her lips brushing his ear. “You’re hard, aren’t you? Because of these?” She held up her hand again, nails fanning out, and he groaned, nodding like a dumbass.
“Yeah—shit, I can’t help it,” he admitted, voice cracking. “They’re so fucking hot.”
Her heart pounded—this was it, her shot. She slid her hand to his thigh, nails grazing through the denim, and he twitched. “Can I… touch you?” she asked, shy but eager, and he nearly came right there.
“Please,” he rasped, and that was all she needed. Her fingers—those gorgeous, red-tipped fingers—fumbled with his fly, shaky at first, but she got it open, tugging his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his cock. It sprang up, thick and throbbing, pre-cum already beading at the tip. She gasped, then giggled, nervous but thrilled.
“Holy shit,” she muttered, wrapping her hand around him. Her nails brushed his shaft, tentative, and he moaned loud enough to drown out the movie. “Like this?” she asked, stroking slow, her almond-shaped tips scraping lightly along the underside.
“Fuck—yes,” he panted, head tipping back. She got bolder, tightening her grip, letting her nails drag more—up his cock, over the head, then down to his balls. She cupped them, rolling them gently, her nails teasing the sensitive skin, and he bucked into her hand, cursing under his breath.
“You’re so hard,” she murmured, amazed, her own pussy tingling as she watched him unravel. She scratched lightly at his balls, then stroked back up, nails circling his cockhead, and he gripped the couch like he’d rip it apart.
“Sophie—gonna cum if you keep—” he warned, but she didn’t stop. She wanted him to lose it. Her first handjob, and she was already playing those nails like a pro, scraping faster, stroking harder.
“Cum for me,” she whispered, seductive despite her nerves, and that did it. He groaned, hips jerking, and hot spurts of cum shot over her hand, dripping down those red nails. He came fast—too fast—but she just smiled, slow and wicked, licking her lips as she rubbed her thighs together, noticing how wet she’d gotten.
“Fuck, that was—” he started, breathless, but she cut him off, lifting her skirt, sliding her fingers into her panties. Her clit was slick, soaked, and she rubbed it right in front of him, moaning softly.
“Ethan,” she whined, “lick me. Please.” He didn’t hesitate—first time or not, he was on her in a second, pushing her back on the couch, yanking her panties down. Her pussy was glistening, pink and perfect, and he dove in, tongue flicking her clit clumsy but eager.
She gasped, hands flying to his head, nails digging into his scalp. “Yes—fuck—” she hissed, scraping his hair, his neck, as he licked her faster, sloppy but hungry. Her hips bucked, chasing it, and he groaned into her cunt, the sting of her nails driving him wild again. She grabbed a pillow, muffling her screams as he sucked her clit, and then it hit—her first orgasm, fast and brutal, her pussy clenching as she squirted, soaking his chin.
“Shit—shit—” she panted into the pillow, body shaking, nails still scratching his neck red. He pulled back, wiping his face, grinning like an idiot, both of them dazed and buzzing.
The horror flick droned on in the background, some slasher screaming her lungs out as blood splattered the screen, but Ethan and Sophie couldn’t give less of a fuck. They were tangled up on the couch, still buzzing from their first round, the air heavy with the scent of cum and her slick. She had him cradled in her arms, his head tucked against her chest, her legs draped over his. His jeans and boxers were still bunched around his knees, cock soft for now, but that wasn’t gonna last. Her red nails—glossy, almond-shaped, half a centimeter of pure torture—traced lazy patterns over his arm, scraping just enough to make his skin prickle.
“Still alive after that?” she teased, voice low, her breath warm against his ear. He chuckled, nuzzling closer, the hum of the movie a distant buzz in his skull.
“Barely,” he mumbled, but his eyes kept darting to her hand, those nails glinting as they moved. She noticed—of course she did—and dragged them slower, letting the tips dig in a little, scratching down his forearm. His breath hitched, and she smirked, feeling his body tense against hers
“These really do it for you, huh?” she murmured, fanning her fingers out, wiggling them so the red polish caught the light. His cock twitched—still exposed, still sensitive—and she glanced down, watching it stir, thickening again, rising rigid like it had a mind of its own.
“Fuck, Sophie,” he groaned, shifting so she could see it better, the head already glistening with a bead of pre-cum. “You’re gonna kill me.”
She laughed, soft but wicked, and slid her hand lower, nails grazing his thigh. “Maybe I wanna,” she whispered, wrapping those deadly fingers around his shaft. She stroked him slow, letting her nails scrape lightly along the length—up, down, teasing the vein—then clawed gently at his balls, rolling them with just enough pressure to make him squirm. “Feel good, baby?” she asked, voice dripping with heat, and he nodded, panting like a dog.
“Goddamn—yes,” he rasped, hips bucking into her hand. She gave him a few more strokes, nails dragging harder now, leaving faint red lines on his skin, and his cock was throbbing, begging for more. But she wasn’t done playing—she wanted him inside her.
With a sly grin, she pushed him flat on the couch and climbed on top, straddling his hips. Her skirt was still hiked up, panties long gone, and her pussy—still wet from his tongue—hovered over his dick. She grabbed his wrists, pinning them above his head, her nails digging into his skin as she sank down, taking him in one slow, tight slide. They both moaned—her at the stretch, him at the heat—and she started riding him, hips rolling, cunt gripping him like a vice.
“Fuck, you’re so big,” she gasped, leaning forward so her nails could rake down his chest, leaving little scratches over his pecs. He bucked up into her, eyes locked on those red tips, mesmerized as they clawed him. It was her first time, but she was a natural—timid at first, then bolder, fucking him harder, scratching deeper, her pussy soaking him with every thrust.
“Sophie—shit—” he groaned, hands gripping her thighs, feeling her nails scrape his sides now, sharp and relentless. She grinned, loving the power, and brought one hand up, letting him see those claws up close. “Lick ‘em,” she ordered, pressing her fingers to his lips, and he obeyed, tongue darting out to taste the polish, the salt of his own cum still lingering from before. She fucked him faster, nails wiggling in his face, taunting him.
“You love these, don’t you?” she purred, voice husky. “My sexy fucking nails—making your cock so hard. Wanna cum all over ‘em?” She scratched his jaw lightly, then pulled her hand back, fanning her fingers so he could watch them dance while she rode him, her tits bouncing under her shirt, pussy clenching tight.
“Fuck—yes,” he panted, losing it, but he wanted a different angle. “Turn around,” he begged, and she obliged, climbing off just long enough to spin and straddle him reverse, ass in his face. She sank back down, taking his cock deep, and started grinding, her nails clawing his thighs now, leaving red streaks as she fucked him senseless. The sight of her ass bouncing, those nails scraping—his fetish was in overdrive, dick pulsing inside her.
She was close too, clit rubbing against him with every roll, but he was closer. “Sophie—gonna cum,” he warned, voice tight, and she slowed, pulling off with a wet pop. “On your nails—please,” he begged, and she grinned, sliding back to kneel between his legs.
“Gimme it, then,” she teased, stretching out both hands, red nails wiggling, tips glinting as she spread her fingers wide. He grabbed his cock, stroking fast—still slick from her pussy—and stared at those claws, his ultimate fantasy. She egged him on, dirty and bold: “Cum on my sexy nails, baby—coat ‘em, make ‘em drip.”
That did it. He groaned, hips jerking, and thick ropes of cum shot out, splattering her hands—hot, white streaks landing on those red almonds, dripping down her fingers. She wiggled them through it, smearing it, smiling seductively as he milked the last drops, chest heaving.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he muttered, spent, watching her lick a little off one nail—just to fuck with him—before wiping the rest on his thigh. The movie was still playing, some idiot getting axed, but they just laughed, collapsing back into each other’s arms, sticky and satisfied....