Everything

The muscles in my pelvis tense, and you feel it in a way you did not expect. We exhale in each other's ears, and you slow.

"Oh god," you breath out, and I know what has surprised you. One of your hands races down my body and rests, aggressively, on my ass.

"Give it to me," I barely get out. "Everything." I want you to know it can be now. Right now. Even if it feels rushed in the moment, it can be slower later.

There are elements of shock, pleasure and aimlessness in your face. Your nose and lips graze the side of my cheek, and I raise my legs and hips up a bit more to receive you as much as I can. It spurs you on.

"I need you," you tell me, looking back in my eyes.

"I need you more," I say back.

"Doubt it," you fire back, and withdraw, before coming back home in a way that empties my head of any rational thought.

It is my turn to emit something primal from my chest. Your cock is hot inside me, making me wetter than I was when we began. Before I can make sense of anything, you repeat the motion, and again I find myself moaning into your neck.

My right leg is hooking up around your hip bone. I am opening myself up to you more while you fuck me. I grab my own knee. I don't know how this feels for you. All I know is I want to draw you in as much as possible. And although you might feel the same, this may have caused you to reach your limit.

"God damn it," I hear you say, as your rhythm begins to halt suddenly while you pull away from me again. I miss you.

And then you come back, filling me completely. I feel your strength peak and muscles tense while your body seems to curl into mine. My voice pushes out low moaning sounds as your cock pulses inside of me as you come. You must be lightly hitting my g-spot with every pulse. Fuck.

Your face is buried in my hair. Until--

Your mouth aggressively finds mine again in the final moments of your climax. Our tongues fight for space as we're realizing what it feels like for you to come inside me. Our voices co-mingle in low but strong tones as I begin to feel the final effects of you throbbing inside my body. I am still on fire.

My muscles twitch, lightly, and you react. Your kiss fills with surprise, then tires as your body weakens. I feel your full weight just a moment later.

Oh, god. Something about even more of your body weight prompts another small spasm of muscle twitches from inside my body. You feel it again. It's more intense than before now that you're spent and over-sensitized.

"Holy fuck," you inhale, next to my face. I feel your body curl into mine, violently but gently. You're still inside me, but softer than before. Although you're still firm and commanding. You're a force. How do we understand each other in this way?

I don't think I could love you any more.

My knees begin to come up towards my ears as you're still feeling the effects of my inner muscles and hugging yourself into me. I don't feel as wet anymore, and your seed is nicely contained. Another benefit of protection, I suppose.

I feel your hands begin to move from where they were frozen. They meander around my body briefly before landing around my face. Your fingers sweep the messiness of my fluffy sex curls away, which feel as though they buried my upper body. You are kissing my collarbone, my shoulders, and my breasts.

I see your eyes. You're back.

You were never really gone, but you were taken over. Veiled. That's where you go in those moments of hunger.

Now you're back. I see you.

I feel you withdraw from me, and I would feel sad, except your body immediately slides to my side so our faces can meet again. You brush your nose with mine, not with the implicit intention to kiss me, but with your trademark boyish playfulness. I almost can't handle you. You wrap me in your arms and I feel your fingers in my hair. Your smile is on my skin.

I've belonged with you for so long, and you've belonged with me. Why haven't we gotten here sooner?

But also, this is exactly where we were supposed to end up. Isn't it?

I run my hand along your cheek, your jaw. It's one of my favorite parts of your body: your face. The way your face feels, and your edges and angles. You have amazing skin. Smooth, pristine. It tastes sweet and pure. Lightly rough from yesterday's shave. Your jaw leads to your lips, which open up for me. You lick my thumb and softly bite down on the digit.

When our eyes lock again, you smile at me and I laugh in return.

"What?" you ask me.

"Nothing," I say, casually.

"Sure, nothing."

"Yes."

"Except everything."

I am arrested. Yes. Everything. That's what this is.

"Except everything," I echo.

I am both excited and terrified to fall asleep in your arms. I want to be with you for this night, but sleeping through it means it will end when I wake.

❧ ❧ ❧

I awake to the unmistakable feeling of your hands on my skin, gently running the lengths of my body. From my hips, up the side of my ribs, your fingers grazing the front of my stomach, up to circle my breasts. Then, down again. Behind me, you feel your way back down my torso, taking time around my hips until, softly, moving to the back and placing one hand affectionately around my ass.

I can only imagine how long you've been doing this prior to me waking up. I wish you would never stop.

I move my head, as my eyes are fluttering open, just enough to see your nose in my peripheral. It touches mine. It's also enough for our lips to touch. They drift to me, like a magnet, while your fingers begin to tighten into my skin wherever they are currently resting.

You exhale while we're locked together, and I can tell you haven't brushed your teeth. But neither have I. You have the distinct flavor and scent of stale coffee, tart citrus, and some sort of herb I can barely tolerate. I don't hate it, but I don't love it either. I prefer you clean, but I appreciate you this way too. I still wouldn't mind tasting you forever.

I feel something begin to stir around my thigh. Old reliable.

I fucking love you.

"Oh, hello," I say to you, my voice more dramatically horse than I intended.

You tighten me in a bear hug and smile into my face, kissing me again. Your giddiness is back. It's dawned on you what happened. We just spent the night together. Whoa.

"Whoa," you say. Do I know you, or what?

"Tell me about it."

You pause, and pull back slightly. "You're so pretty."

Obviously, you're delirious. But rather than let my insecurities get in the way of your compliment, I decide to give you a little sass.

"Well," I say, "I am unshowered with leftover sex hair, and it's..." I crane my neck to try to see the clock, which you moved across the room last night. "Only six o'clock?"

"Yeah, it's very early."

"What are we doing up?"

But we know. We've probably only slept- napped, really- for several hours. Now we're both awake, looking in each other's eyes again. You didn't want to waste any more time sleeping. I'm flattered and surprised, but also glad your hands have woken me up.

Your lips graze mine gently before you answer. "I don't know." I feel your tongue, and return your affection. "But I'm not sure I care."

Something quakes again in my lower abdomen, and moisture begins to pool between my legs. Although I cleaned myself up before we fell asleep just a few hours ago, I suspect it's about to look like a crime scene again soon.

I think I feel your legs tangling with mine, when suddenly I am suspiciously alone in the sheets. You are slipping away from me. "Just a second," you mutter to me, and you are gone.

You escape to the bathroom, the way I did last night. I wonder if there's anything I can do to surprise you while you're away. Did I bring anything with me? Fancy underwear? A toy? I'm already naked, and we already had sex. I really don't want to complicate things. We've already done the best of the best, I think.

Instead, I jump up and survey myself in the mirror next to the desk. I have my overnight bag with me and begin to rummage in it. I run a hairbrush through my leftover updo, swish some mouthwash into the garbage can, and run and facial wipe over my allegedly pretty face. Then, just as I start to get chilly from being completely undressed and out of the bed's warmth, I run back to the comfort of the fluffy hotel blankets.

You emerge from the bathroom.

I hate that you have to do, essentially, zero skin maintenance to have a perfect complexion. Hate. You.

Except I am madly in love with you.

You slip back into the sheets, your skin not as warm as when you left the bed. Your fingers come back into contact with my hips, and they're chilly. I can tell you've washed your hands. I inhale sharply as I feel your skin on mine and move one of my hands to cover yours.

As briefly unpleasant as it may be, I drag your cold hand up the length of my body and in front of my face. I breathe on your fingers.

"Just a little cold," I tell you, looking into your eyes.

You don't answer. You just look back at me. I breathe on your hand again. A hot breath, hopefully. My lips touch your fingers.

I feel you against my thigh again.

My lips part, and one of your fingertips gently enters my mouth. I close my eyes and lick you before closing my lips around your finger completely. I take you out of my mouth, then kiss the tip of your finger, followed by a lap of my tongue.

The pressure on my thigh is changing. Your other hand reaches down and adjusts something. Whatever you do, it makes sense on my end. We fit together more comfortably, and the pressure is now near my pubic bone.

The hand you just used, the one not playing with my mouth, returns to my body. Still on the colder side but rapidly warming up, it skims along my rib cage. You're alternating between tracing the curves of my breasts with your fingers, and fully grabbing onto my flesh with your whole hand. As I suck your entire finger into my mouth, your lower hand retreats down to my hips and butt, and repeats.

The light touch of your fingers sends chills through my body, despite the warmth of the bed. Do you know you do this to me? You must, since you keep doing it.

Although I'm sure you do it for your own pleasure. That's the best part. I'm fully aware we both enjoy this. I just can't be sure if you know it gives me as much pleasure as it is. I keep trying to tell you, but do you understand?

How do I let you know?

I remove your finger from my mouth. "I want you again," I tell you. I don't know how much more unambiguous I can get than that.

Instead of putting your lengthy, masculine finger back into my mouth, I lean towards your face. My mouth needs your mouth. As I capture you, I find that you, also, cleaned up your mouth when you stepped away. You probably got in an entire brush and floss. Setting the bar high, I see.

I can't stop myself from touching you. You're right there, no clothing for me to fight with. When I put my hand on you, even though our skin was already touching, you still have a distinct reaction. Sharing a bed with a girl- much less, me- is new to you. It's not an everyday experience to have a bedmate who can potentially reach out and touch you at any moment. You're not startled as much as you are surprised that we're still naked.

Well, we are. And I am touching you.

I run a hand towards my own nether regions, to check the status of things. I don't get very far before I feel a familiar humidity between my thighs. My fingers get within striking distance of my opening, and I don't need to go any further to know things are already well underway. I want you there. I don't need anything else.

Slow, languid, early morning sex. That's what I want from you.

"Right now?" you ask.

"Absolutely," I breathe.

Impulsively, I turn my back on you. Not because I don't want to see you, or face you. Quite the contrary. I just want to give you everything. All of me.

I flip around, so my backside is tucked into the slight recess of your pelvis where your hips are bending. I twist my shoulders back, pivoting my upper body towards you. Now, we can- sort of- see each other, and one of my arms can reach back for my fingers to get lost in your hair. But otherwise, I plan to have you enter me from behind.

I start leaning away from you for just a moment, raising my leg over yours in order to get the mechanics right, just in the beginning. You're seeing my intention, and hurriedly glance at the nightstand to get your own duties done. Right. The "paperwork."

While you take care of that, with surprising speed and precision (did you practice at home?), I am still working on positioning myself. Soon, you are back, sidling up close to me. Then, I feel you line yourself up with my opening, while I'm pitched slightly forward with my leg raised a little.

You seem like an expert at this. I didn't even have to coach you.

You may think this position is slightly impersonal, but I'm out to prove you wrong. You start to push into me. I feel you fill me after we rock into each other a few times, getting you sufficiently wet with what I have to offer. Then, you're engulfed in me.

Once I have you fully inside, I lean back into your body and bring my leg closer to my body. Your top arm wraps around my torso and finds a home cradling my breasts. Occasionally, you drift down to my stomach or hips, or graze past my pubic hair, toying with the idea of playing with my clit, I think. But as we start to move in a more distinct rhythm, your cock pumping gently in and out of my soaked pussy from behind, your hot mouth in my ear, my arm raised up and reaching behind your head to play in your hair that I love so much, I know I wouldn't be able to focus or handle any more activity between my legs. If you began to play with my clit, I would sweep it away. No offense.

Your dick dominates and controls all sensation for me right now. It's all I want and all I need. I tilt my head back more and connect with your lips. I move my leg again, and drape it back over your body, opening my hips in a different way. This changes the sensation for both of us, and your pace shifts. You are able to get deeper, and you do so. You slow, seemingly savoring things more. I pivot both towards and away from you more, our bodies almost perpendicular now. We would be forming ninety-degree angles if I weren't so hell-bent on having access to your lips.

Each time you slide fully into me, and I meet you there, we pause. Just for a beat, we hesitate pulling away again. Then slowly, the pattern repeats. I am lying on top of one of your arms, tucked as comfortably as possible under the curve of my waist. The hand of that arm is starting to grip wherever it can, impulsively. Your other arm hugs my waist and pulls me into your body.

I feel your breath on my face, and hear your voice as you exhale lightly. I feel as if I am gushing for you. The further we get, and with my adjusted position with my leg re-opened, I am rethinking my earlier opinion that I wouldn't want you to touch me with your hand.

Sure enough, your available hand drifts back down to my hips, the leg draped over your body, and begins touching my thigh. Then, my inner thigh. Your fingers explore the area, including getting curiously close to the entrance point where we are currently joined.

Your hand rests, casually, next to this area for a few moments. It is shockingly erotic. I'm aware it must bring it to a new level of sensation for you, since you can't see what's happening. So, what's the next best thing than being able to feel it with both with your dick and your fingers? The sensation of you joining and rejoining my body, repeatedly.

The additional light sensation of your hand resting on my labia and sprawling onto my upper thigh is maddening, mostly because you're not gripping or clawing at me. You're simply laying your hand there, gently feeling yourself pull and push in and out of me.

I take it all back. Touch me.

I arch my back further and push my leg open just a bit wider, nearly to the point of a hip cramp. My foot lands on the surface of the bed, on the other side of your body, which I can use for leverage. I don't know if you understand how excited you make me.

Perhaps you do. Your resting hand begins to stir. You move it only a few inches in one direction, taking some of my wetness with you, and suddenly your newly damp fingers are searching for my clit again.

You don't move quickly, or try to have an agenda. I wouldn't want you to. Any attempt to "try" make me come would likely end up in both of us overthinking things and not going anywhere. Rather, your fingers move like the rest of our bodies. Slow, casual, almost aimless.

Still inside me, you touch me gently at first. Slick fingers moving in a slow rhythmic motion. My head tilts back, and I don't know if I've buried your face in my hair. I pivot, and claim your mouth instead, just as I stop breathing from the sensations flowing through me due to you fucking me while strumming my clit. God damn it.

Are you trying to kill me?

It's this heat you create within me. A hot pressure within my body, which feels like it's continuously building and needs to escape. They only solution is kissing you and letting you take over.

I don't think I've ever felt simultaneously so helpless and so full of power at the same time. As a primal noise begins to escape my throat, my breath comes back to me. We disconnect our kiss while our lips still touch, and my voice continues to groan gently into your mouth. I hope you can hear how much I need you.

Both your hips and your hand slightly pick up in pace. My recently restored breath hitches, and I exhale heavily. You're surprising me, but staying the course. Yes. Yes, please.

I may be reaching a point of overstimulation. I feel as if my entire body is about to start shaking. Vibrating. Not in an orgasmic way, as if I'm building towards it. This is all coming at me suddenly, like everything is too much. There are so many sensations for my body to focus on at the same time. I need to choose one for you to continue with.

I reach down and put my hand on top of yours. Slowly, I manage to redirect your fingers up my body. As they skim over my skin, I can feel the residue of my wetness being left behind. Your hand arrives up at my mouth, and I guide one of your fingers onto my lips. Slowly and breathlessly, I suck you into my mouth. When you feel this, I could swear your next thrust into my pussy is just that much more intense and stays inside a bit longer.

Your mouth, now next to my ear, breathes hot air onto my skin. Your lips reach out for me and catch my earlobe. As I feel your hips move into me again, I know that having your fingers back in my mouth has spurred you to a new level. I didn't realize, until now.

You voluntarily bury your face in my hair. I can feel your nose touching the back of my neck. With your finger still in my mouth, I hear you say something into my hair. It may have been some sort of profanity, or my name. Something inside me is ignited by feeling you lose control. I want to please you. I want you to be happy.

As I suck your finger stronger than I probably should for such respectable morning sex, I get the sense this is starting to move too quickly again. I release you from my mouth. Your hand moves away faster than I expect, but not to another place on my body. I see you grab for the blankets.

In a quick motion, I feel myself being uncovered. Not just my body, but yours, too. I don't mind so much, as you've been rapidly raising my body temperature. You say nothing, but simply slide your hand back to my skin and place your mouth on my shoulder. Our hips continue to meet each other in slowed, well-timed synchronicity. Again. And again.

I tell you, yes. I tell you to do it again. I tell you I want you.

Your voice seems stolen this time. I don't need you to speak, but I love to hear you. Then, your top hand, which has been resting politely on my hip since you moved the blankets, drifts closer to my pelvis. I wonder if you're revisiting the hand-play idea from earlier.