...The only reason this has taken so long is that I've invested more time into this one relationship than I ever have into any of mine. And if they are any typos, no there aren't, I'm just modifying Standard American English 👏🏾 Hope you all are doing well!
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"Cis."
"Hmm."
"Wake up, I wanna see something."
"You can see it later, we have all day," I reason. I'm not waking up for early morning dick.
He sits there for a while and then hovers over me to whisper "Suit yourself" before climbing out of the bed. I grumble a little before falling back asleep.
I wake up to the smell of toasted bread and the sound of something sizzling, so I decide to roll out from under the covers and steal some of whatever Vince has made. He's standing over the stove, vacantly studying the sausage links in the cast iron skillet.
"Gimme some."
I see his profile split into a grin. "Mm. Maybe."
I fold my arms across my chest and stroll up to him. "Maybe?"
"Maybe if you give me 'some', I'll be nice and give you some. Food." He slides the sausage onto a plate lined with paper towels before leaning up against the counter. "Whaddya say?"
"Well, I couldn't say exactly, not with you propositioning a starving woman like that."
Vince grabs my arm and pulls me between him and the counter, sliding the caftan I threw on down over one shoulder. "I could just ravish her, up against this wall with her feet dangling off the counter. Bend her over, make her watch the fat in the pan solidify while I slam into her from the back."
"Hmm..." I pretend to mull it over as he palms my behind and fills his hands with cloth and ass, inching the hem of the dress up over the curve of my behind.
"Anyway you want," he whispers, a slight smile on his face.
I cup his face in my hands and draw his lips to mine, happy for the moment to stoke the fire I see sizzling under the surface of that smile. His hands travel up the length of me, slipping up my torso and removing the dress from my arms, dropping it to the floor.
"Had the audacity to cover up before you came out here," he mutters, fingers mapping my back and running down along my thighs. "You decided yet?"
I swirl my hips over the item in his pants, obsessed with the warmth of it in the chill of the morning. "I trust you," I say, splaying my legs apart before him and winding my arms around his neck. "Fuck me however."
He grunts in agreement and drops his head to lathe his tongue in the dip of my collarbone. I watch him pull a condom out of his pocket, watch him fumble to rip it open before adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants to sit underneath the tool he's wrapping up.
His hands flash back to my body as soon as he's ready, one drawing my right leg up by the knee and the other finding a suitable spot at my waist.
"So you were just planning to ambush me as soon as I got up, huh?" I accuse, feeling the ache deep in the muscles of my legs as he lifts my thigh a bit higher.
"Always gotta be ready when I'm around you, Cis," he huffs, aiming himself at the dripping center of me, unseen.
I drop my head back to watch him maneuver himself in me, overtaken by the stretch and at the same time feeling power course through my limbs, watching him lose his mind in me.
"Fuck," he announces, as I tighten uncontrollably around him. A lot of things concerning Vince are uncontrollable.
I let him lean me back further, drop my arms to the counter behind me and feel the stretch across my chest as he begins to rock inside. A steady stream of low curses issue from his lips, now, his eyes the murky brown of brackish water and almost vacant of thought.
"So good, Vince. You're splitting me open," I approve, listening to the smack of our bodies slice through the morning's silence. He's grunting with each push into me, taking ragged breaths as he draws out and all the while increasing in speed. I feel the shock of him all over, and swoon once, twice, my standing leg shaking underneath me.
He pushes me up, back further and finally heaves me up to lay my upper body on the counter. I whimper at the shock of my naked back against the cold tile before I start whimpering instead at the shuddering force plowing against my sensitive walls, slipping a hand down to hover attentively over my clit in careful circles.
"C, I never wanna stop fucking you. Your body's so good, baby," he groans over me. "So fucking good to me. You're perfect."
"You never wanna stop?" I muse, my breathing labored as my back squeaks against the counter. My legs are locked around his waist, drawing him into me, and I croon as his hands migrate to my shoulders to bring me down harder on his dick. "Don't you wanna come in me? Feel me shaking around-"
My words clip off on a high note as I squeeze my eyes shut, suddenly fluttering around him in the heightened drop of my climax taking me off guard. I can't hear for several moments, can only feel the wet pressure of him in me, his hands gripping my hips, his breath falling across my exposed body in exerted puffs of air.
When I come back from wherever it is he sent me, he's moving at hyper speed, almost with a helpless look on his face. And when sound comes back: "-you, Cecily, I'm fucking coming in you," before he drives himself into me a final time, dropping his elbows on either side of my head and shuddering, panting over my head.
I'm dazed and open under him, my walls still massaging his length as he draws out of me. He replaces his dick with a series of fingers and I whine underneath him.
"We had a deal, now feed me," I complain, blinking and jostling my arms against the countertop to situate myself. He places a flat hand against my pelvis and rides his fingers up against the spongy front wall inside me, his thumb gliding over my clit.
"We didn't have a deal, and I want you as lost as me," he explains cryptically as my movements turn to writhing beneath his hands. The oversensitization is torturous, and I balance on that searing point of light, legs cramping and still wrapped around his waist, until he pushes me over into the valley below.
"Fuuuuuuck," I breathe, as he backs away from me, drawing apart my thighs and looking at his own handiwork.
"We made a beautiful mess here," he decides, as he steps back, picking my gown up from off the floor and shaking it out. I stand, wobbly, and hold my hand out for it, but he walks to a chair at the table and lays it over the seat, gesturing for me to sit down. "I didn't put all that work in to not see the results after," he grins.
I roll my eyes and sit, feeling the extent of my excitement all over my thighs and rear. "Says the man who I had screaming my name," I say, but he only grins wider.
"Yeah, and I'm going to fuck you in the shower next," he informs me, bringing me a plate of cold toast and lukewarm sausages.
"You think so?" I say drily, watching him set down his own plate.
"I'd argue about it with you, Cis, but I really want to eat breakfast before I get into you again," he says urgently. I'd rather not have to disinfect the table after this weekend, so I shut up and eat.
...
"I knew we'd be good together, but I didn't know it'd be like this," Vince thinks aloud, as we lay, skin still damp, on top of the blankets in my room. We never got a chance to get under them, and he's running a hand back and forth over the curve of my hip that he's so taken with.
I crane my head towards him, watching the bulk of him curled like a sleeping tiger next to me.
"What, you addicted to the pussy now? That's a nice thought," I chuckle, wanting to stretch under his hand.
"Cecily, you know I'm serious, right? I'm not going to try to hide it." His hand stills at my waist. I look up and consider his solemn face, braced against what my words might be.
"Well. What kind of serious are we talking? Cuffing season serious? More than that?" I'm beginning to think we should've held off on ripping each other's clothes off as soon as we did, because the potential for hurt in his eyes is... interesting? Puts a little fear in my heart?
