[ad_1]

“It’s late morning now. The curtains are drawn and clear sunlight illuminates the bedroom. We lay on top of the covers while I idly trace lines between your moles – your ‘beauty dots’ as you call them, the French way. Each dot I discover adds a new angle to the abstract drawing. I wander around your contours, connecting your ribs, your belly button, beneath your breast. In fine detail I admire your silky skin and your soft curves.

‘You’re gorgeous,’ I say.

At first you look surprised, caught off guard. You open your mouth, then close it. ‘Oh…’ you stammer, flustered. You look down. ‘Thank you.’

‘It’s just the truth.’ I lift your chin. Your big, brown eyes are full of affection and gentleness, but there’s also a faraway sadness in them. I kiss your forehead.

‘You’re too sweet,’ you say.

I kiss you again, this time on the lips, this time lingering.

Our eyes close.

We sigh.

Without warning I feel you grabbing the front of my boxer shorts. My eyes snap open and I see the corners of your mouth twitch upward. You do an adorably poor job trying to conceal your devious grin. Your fingers wrap around my semi-erect bulge and immediately my blood starts rushing, each heartbeat making me larger in your hand.

You relinquish your grasp and swirl your pointer finger around my tensed stomach muscles. Then you plant your hands on my shoulders, push me down into the mattress, and straddle my torso. Your mouth is so close to my ear that you barely need to whisper. ‘Fuck me, lover boy.’

A jolt races through my ribcage. You bite my earlobe and push your butt back. I feel it’s softness through my boxers and instinctively raise my hips up, longing to feel your bare skin against mine. You rock forward and back, teasing. You slide along the ridge created by my now throbbing penis. The cloth saturates with our excitement.

You move back to sit on my ankles as you grab my boxers by their elastic waistband. My erection springs up when you slide them off. You raise your hips and I kick them onto the floor.

You run your hands up my body, brushing my thighs, my hip creases, my abs, coming to rest on my chest, arms stretched out. You playfully flick my nipples back and forth, your face hovering above my penis. It aches for you. You drag the blade of your tongue from the base of my shaft to just below the head. The sensation is electric. I already feel like I’m gonna explode. *Not yet,* I tell myself; I know you want it in you. *I* want it in you.

Climbing back up my body you leave a trail of kisses like snowflakes melting on my skin. Our lips meet and your tongue slips into my mouth, exploring. I add some gentle suction, inviting you to shove it into my throat. You oblige.

My hands discover your butt. I grip tightly, kneading, pulling your cheeks aside and squeezing your taut flesh between my fingers. As we gyrate, the tip of my penis brushes against your vulva. A shudder runs through our connected bodies. I gasp as if the bed has fallen out from under me. You prop yourself up, hands still on my chest, and we lock eyes once more. My voice is hoarse, desperate. ‘I want to be inside you,’ I murmer. There’s nothing in the world I want more.

My pulse pounds in my ears as you reach down and take hold of me. You drag the tip of my penis between your lips, taking your time, reveling in the anticipation. My cheeks burn red. My chest is on fire. As my tip reaches your opening, I involuntarily vocalize a trembling ‘Uunng.’

You lower yourself, bit by bit, millimeter by millimeter. You inhale slightly at the pulling sensation when the head goes in, and again when widest part of my shaft enters. Finally, I am completely enveloped in your warmth.

We simultaneously exhale in elated relief. Slowly, you start to sway, forward and back, forward and back. There’s a faint sucking sound as your vagina expands to accommodate me. You close your eyes and grasp the firm muscles in my chest.

‘Mm, you feels so good inside me,’ you breathe in a low, raspy timbre. I put my hands on your waist and feel your fluid rocking motions. With one hand you stretch the skin around your clitoris, feeling it swell as it rubs against my body.

I drink in the sight: your glistening skin; your thick, wild hair; the delicate curve of your neck. My hands move from your waist to your breasts. Your nipples are stiff and perky on my palms. I press into them and massage in a circular motion. You close your eyes and breathe heavily, ‘Yes. Oh my god, yes.’ Rivulets of your wet honey drip around the base of my penis.

My voice quivers. ‘I don’t… I don’t think I can last much longer.’

You lower yourself until your breasts are smashed against my chest. Nose-to-nose, your breath hot on my lips, you whisper, ‘Cum in me.’

You shift to the side, prompting me. Without pulling out I roll you onto your back. It’s strange how the change of position makes you seem more vulnerable. Your mischievous grin is gone; seen from above your expression is sensitive, compassionate. I’m suddenly struck by how much you’ve trusted me with: your body, your heart, your secrets. I want you to feel safe with me. I want you to trust me with everything.

You wrap your legs around me and settle your hands over my shoulders. I’m no longer teetering on the edge; somehow I feel determined, able to keep going. I pull my hips back and drive into you. Then again. And again. Over and over, faster and faster, I pull back and push into you. With each thrust our skin claps together, punctuating your heavy moans.

I’m panting now. Sweat beads on my forehead. You’re sticky with sweat too. You grab my butt and feel it tighten each time I thrust. Euphoria courses through your entire body – a light, dizzy feeling. You call out, ‘Mmm yes, oh my god, yes! Fuck me!’

It begins as a tugging below my belly button, then a tingling that radiates out from my pelvis, into my stomach, my butt, my legs, my back. My vision grows hazy. ‘I’m… I’m going to cum,’ I choke out.

‘Yes,’ you beg, ‘Please… Please cum in me. I… I’m-!’ But I already feel your vagina contracting around me, pulling me in deeper. Your back arches. Your body twists under me. Every muscle tenses.

This time we dissipate into the light together. We’re among the stars, no longer attached to ourselves. For all we care we could die at this moment. Nothing else matters.

The room fades into my vision while you’re still thrumming with orgasm. Your fingers are digging into my skin. Gradually, imperceptibly, you sink back down, shaking, flooded with emotion. It takes me a moment to realize that you’re crying, shuddering with silent sobs. At first I don’t know what to do. You’ve told me about it before – sometimes this happens. You seemed embarrassed, apologetic even; but in this moment you have never looked more gorgeous. I wrap you in my arms and pull you tight into my chest. You curl up, burying yourself in me. I stroke your hair while your breathing calms, little by little, into soft whimpers. I keep hold for as long as it takes. When the shivering stops I put a hand under your chin and kiss your eyelids. You sniffle. ‘I’m sorry,’ you mutter.

‘Sorry?’ I’m puzzled. ‘Why would you be sorry?’

‘It’s just…’ you search for the words. ‘I don’t know. It’s embarrassing.’

I kiss your cheeks. Salty tears wet my lips. I wish I had some eloquent way to reassure you – to let you know that you have nothing to be embarrassed about – but I don’t know what to say.

I turn you onto your side and work myself behind you, my chest and stomach on your back, my legs cradling your butt and thighs. Our intermingled fluids have dribbled out, puddling into a wet spot beneath us. I drape one arm over you, pulling you closer. ‘It’s ok,’ I whisper, ‘Everything is ok. You’re perfect.’ You hug my arm into your chest.

We bask in the pleasant glow of sunlight coming in through the window, wishing we could somehow put words to our feelings. For now, though, it’s enough to silently hold on to each other.”

For H.

NSFW: yes

[ad_2]