“Sure, added weight on your frame can lead to all kinds of medical complications and leave you susceptible to a slew of conditions. Yes, I’ve tried to lose weight, but it’s never taken. I’ve tried every diet on the market, I’ve worked out, and nothing’s changed. And the assumption from everyone is that someone my size is my size because they’re lazy, and they eat like shit.”
It’s not the conversation I expected to have with her when I came upstairs, but the urge to worship her, to tell her I already love her even if she thinks it’s crazy, is overwhelming.
There are too many words in my mouth to know which to pick, so I kiss her. It’s slow, and surface-level because I can’t open my mouth to let my tongue explore hers, but I hope she tastes the urgency on my lips.
She might, because she hums, and softens.
When I pull back enough to speak, I make sure she’s looking into my eyes. “I like you mostly for who you are, not what you look like.”
She hisses out a slow breath before nodding. “I know. I might not always believe it, and I might need the occasional reminder, but right now, I believe you.”
“I’ll tell you as often as you need to hear it.” I brush my lips against hers again. “But also? For the record? I think you’re fucking gorgeous, Pitstop.”
She presses her palm onto my chest. “Hold up, Bunny Lover. You’re starting to sound like you’re in this for the long haul.”
Chuckling, I move her hand onto my cock. “Was that unclear? If so, let me clear that up for you. I have no intentions of ever sleeping with another bunny for the rest of my days.” I pull back a little further. “Unless you feel like dressing up as a bunnyfor Halloween, in which case, we’ll be fucking like rabbits. You’re the only bunny for me.”
She laughs and shakes her head, squeezing my shaft at the same time. “Always about the D with you, isn’t it.”
“Not always. But sometimes.”
She squeezes again, drawing her hand along my length and back down, through my shorts. Pulling me back to her, she sighs as our lips connect. Knowing I affect her in some way, even if it’s not the same level as she affects me, is consuming.
“Can I enter the queendom?” I mumble into her ear.
Her giggle stokes my fire.
“Please, your Majesty.” I skim my hand down the front of her body, her nipples are already hard, poking into my palm as I travel south. “Can I touch you?”
She slides down the headboard so she’s flat on her back. “Proceed.”
I don’t remember the last time I laughed so much in bed. “Thank you, Milady.”
She laughs again, but it stalls out when her breath hitches as my hand meets the top of her thighs.
“There she is.” Her panties are growing damper by the second.
The sound that comes out of her is close to a purr. It’s one of my favorite noises, but when she picks up my hand and shoves it inside her underwear, I die and go to heaven.
“Hands on the headboard, Pitstop.”
She complies.
“I don’t want you helping, or hindering. It’s my way, or no way. You hear?”
“Blah, blah, blah. Just make me come already, Satan.”
Her pussy is sopping wet, soft, slick, and the deeper I slide my fingers into it, the hotter, tighter, and wetter she gets. Bythe time I curl my fingers into her g-spot, her hips are already rolling.
As much as I want to fuck her senseless, as much as I want to pull my fingers out and plunge my cock in, I need to make her cum first. At least once. I’d love a hat trick, but with my mouth out of commission, I’m not sure my fingers will last that long.
Or my patience.
As I press the soft spot inside her, I rub my thumb across her clit. When I squeeze both of them together, she groans. “Don’t say it.” She sucks in a heavy gasp when I squeeze harder.
“Screenshot.”
“Adolescent.”
