‘And make Pokémon cookies.’
‘And watchStar Wars.’
‘Not so sure about that one.’
‘Game of Thrones,’ Sam counters.
‘And Sabrina.’
‘Carpenter?’
‘Teenage Witch.’
‘Anything you want.’
‘Anything.’
‘Kiss me.’
Linking my arms around his neck, I pull him close, kissing him with a tender affection that I wish to savour. His kiss is hungry, pressing into me, and I can feel him reacting to my touch.
My hand slides down to his trousers, finding the button. I wait for him to object, to stop me. But his eyebrows cock up. ‘What you waiting for?’
He lets the shorts fall, revealing his Calvins. I run my hand over them, biting his lip, feeling his breath on my skin, and his weight in my hands.
‘Let’s fuck,’ I whisper.
He lets out a small growl, lifting my T-shirt, revealing my torso. He helps me readjust where I sit. His lips dance over mine, then down my neck and onto my chest. His hands pull at my shorts, so rough I think he might rip them. I let out a groan as he pulls off my underwear, so that I’m exposed to him.
‘You’re perfect.’
He slips off his own boxers so that I can feel his dick on me.
‘Do you have lube?’ I ask.
Sam doesn’t answer. Instead, he kneels down, and his tongue explores places only he knows how to. It goes deep, his hands on either side of my cheeks. Lifting up, his dick brushes my hole, and he spits into his hand, rubbing it over his cock.
He kisses my chest, placing a finger on my stomach. ‘Wait there, mister.’
He disappears into his bedroom, leaving me vibrating on his counter. When he comes back, my dick throbs, eager. He rips the condom packaging, taking it out, sliding it onto his shaft. He kisses me, and my kisses try to convey to him I’m sure, to tell him he can trust me.
‘Go slow,’ I say, looking at his girth.
He enters me, pushing ever so slowly so that I can wrap around the head. I take a breath, my eyes closing, feeling the rush to my head. I feel myself stretching, feel the pleasure of accommodating him inside me, and he holds me. My eyes roll back, and as I relax, he goes deeper, making me gasp.
My fingernails rove down his back, my legs wrapping tightly around him, bringing him closer, so that slowly he gets every inch of himself into me. He lets me breathe, staying where he is. My God, he’s a lot to take.
With every stroke, he makes me groan. My body quivers, and with one of his thrusts my whole body gives way to take him, making me twitch and writhe under his movements. He looks into my eyes, holding my legs, before tilting his head to observe his dick going into me. Effortless, now. My body used to him. The massage deep within as he hits me right has me biting my lip.
‘Fuck, Sam.’
He still says nothing, but his breathing gets heavier. Somehow, it’s hotter when he doesn’t talk. His usually neat mane of hair falls over his shoulders, trailing down to brushmy skin. I grab some of it, feeling the softness in my hand. My desire to be closer to him, a part of him, strong. His sweat drips onto me, rolling down my skin. With every push from him, I feel a deep need to come, a soaring tenderness at the base of my stomach.
He’s quick now, his hands on the table supporting him. Pressed against the wall, pinned to him, unable to move. I don’t care. I lift my legs higher to accommodate him, groaning in sync with his movements. My back arches ever so slightly, opening up to him. He throws his head back and lets out a roar, and I gasp, feeling a heat within.
He shakes ever so slightly, his forehead meeting mine. He relaxes, and I do, too. I kiss his lips, tasting the salt of his sweat, and he lets out a small laugh.
‘Fuck.’
