Summary: You and Sam have been friends for years, but something has always lingered beneath the surface. It takes one Hozier song and a lot of pent-up tension to realize that you both feel the same way.
Heavily inspired by both this photo of Sammy and the song Talk by Hozier, but very lightly edited. Mostly just pure self-indulgent filth, I'm sorry
Warnings: cheating (oopsie), unprotected sex (I'm terrible at this so if it needs other warnings, someone pls tell me)
Your phone started vibrating in the cup holder as you pulled onto Sam's new street. You reached your thumb across the steering wheel to press the Bluetooth button before slowing down to read the address numbers neatly printed across the mailboxes out your tinted windows.
"Helloooooooooo?" You drew the word out, eyes still scanning for the house number that Sam had texted you hours earlier.
"Hey kid," Sam's raspy voice rang out through your car speakers, making you smile. "How far away are ya?"
"Hmmmm, about 10 houses," you answered, unexplained anticipation building like a lump in the back of your throat.
"Perrrrrrfect," he drawled. "I'm in the backyard, so just come through the gate at the side when you get here. Rose, get away from that!"
You heard a clatter in the background, before you heard Sam's quiet "fuck" come across the phone line. You giggled to yourself, surmising that the bouncy puppy had knocked something over.
"Gotta go. See you in a minute, kid." Sam hung up on the call before you could get another word out. It didn't matter, you were pulling into his lengthy driveway anyways. As tall pines surrounded the car on both sides, you thought about the situation you were heading into.
You and Sam had been friends for a few years. What started as acquaintances quickly blossomed into friendship when you realized how much you had in common - you had started cutting your teeth in Nashville as the administrative assistant to the head of Sam's record label, so you were often around the offices during meetings and the studio during recording sessions. As the months passed, and you memorized the guys' coffee orders, you had begun to build favour with the four of them. Sam had taken a particular liking to you during one of the label's industry dinners, picking your brain about music and movies and everything in between. The two of you had a friendship that couldn't be explained to anyone but you, and you had learned to ignore teasing comments from the other guys long ago. Your boyfriend, and Sam's girlfriend, were far less immune to the sensitivity of the other boys' teasing - your boyfriend didn't particularly care for Sam, and Sam's girlfriend didn't really care for you. You had tried to hang out as a foursome multiple times, but it usually ended with you and Sam in a conversation that the other two just couldn't relate or contribute to.
So, much to their dismay, you and Sam had resorted to hanging out every once in a while without the two of them. It made for awkward nights when you returned home to your boyfriend, but you knew that you had nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing had ever happened with Sam, and you were certain that nothing ever would. Your miniscule crush on Sam was suppressed into the deepest depths of your soul, because you were certain that he would never feel the same way. And there was no point in ruining your friendship, or your current relationship, for something that would never happen.
All of this is what brought you to the top of Sam's new driveway, bottle of wine and housewarming gift on the backseat, ready for a night to just hang out and exist together.
You gathered all of your items from the car before stepping out and grabbing your packages from the backseat. The car door slamming shut alerted Rose to your presence, and she started barking from the backyard.
You wandered towards the sound at the side gate that Sam had mentioned, taking in the beauty of his new house as you walked. The house had a rustic quality to it, and it definitely looked like it belonged in the woodland neighborhood. Sam had moved out of the hectic rush of Nashville's east side, and had chosen to settle about 30 minutes out of the city in a spot closer to the Tennessee mountains. The new property definitely seemed to be more his style, laid back and surrounded by nature just as you always pictured him to be.
You reached the gate, shuffling the items in your arms until you freed one of your hands to unlatch it. You were greeted by a bouncy puppy, smiling as you reached down to pat the top of Rose's head. She pranced next to you excitedly while you walked further into the yard, spotting Sam across from the inground swimming pool. He was kneeling on the stone patio, leaning back so that he was almost sitting on his bare feet. Spread out in front of him was an array of soils, plant pots, and orchids. He looked up when you approached, giving you a coy smile and making the effort to stand to his feet.
"Well, well, look who it is..." His smile spread across his face even bigger when you slid your sunglasses up into your hair like a headband. Sam walked closer to you, reaching out to take the items from your arms. You were suddenly glad that you had so many things to carry - it meant that there was a buffer in between you and Sam for the time being. You always felt awkward meeting up with him or saying goodbye when you had nothing in your hands... the two of you made a subconscious effort never to let physical touch linger too long, and you had never once hugged Sam in the years that you had been close friends. It was part of the reason why you felt your crush was not reciprocated - the man in front of you now clearly wanted nothing to do with touching you in any capacity.
Your mind brought you back to the present before you could spiral too far, and you turned to follow Sam as he walked towards the back door of the house. You spotted a broken terra cotta pot on the table next to the door.
"Is that what Rose broke?" You asked, pointing to the table.
Sam just laughed. "You heard that, huh?" You nodded, catching Sam's eye while he opened the door. "Yeah, she's a menace..."
Sam trailed off as you both entered his new space. Spread out in front of you was a sizeable kitchen, complete with a tiled island in the centre and a double oven on the far wall.
"Holy shit, Sammy," you lamented as you took in the room. He was smiling while he placed the items you had brought on the counter, turning around to put the bottle of wine in the fridge. "This is incredible!"
"You think so?" He asked, suddenly appearing self conscious. "I mean, it's been such a big change and I'm so happy, but.... sometimes I wonder if I made the right decision by moving out here."
"I think it's amazing," you answered honestly. "It's so peaceful, and just so... you."
He smiled so big at your statement that it showed off all his teeth, his plump lips pulling back in the most beautiful way. You cleared your throat and gestured towards the doorway that led to the rest of the house.
"But I want the full tour," you prompted, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach from the way that Sam's eyes were studying you. He did this sometimes when the two of you would hang out - studying your every movement, down to the twitch of your nose or the slight crinkle between your eyebrows when you realized what he was doing. It felt like he was trying to decipher your deepest secrets, and there were definitely thoughts within your brain that you didn't want him to clue into. You had reached a careful balance of thoughts and actions over the years of being his friend, and the only time you felt the facade crack a little bit were times when he studied you like this.
You blushed under his intense gaze, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear at the same time. This movement seemed to break his trance, and he suddenly remembered who he was and what you were doing.
"A tour, right! Follow me, I'll give you the grand tour..." Sam trailed off as he started walking out the kitchen doorway, reaching up to touch his fingertips to the door frame on his way out.
He gestured wildly as he toured you through the rest of the raised bungalow, taking you through the hallway that separated the bathroom and three bedrooms from the main space. One of the bedrooms was being used for art supplies and paintings, and another was being used for music equipment and instruments. He passed by the third bedroom door casually, raising a hand as you walked by.
"This is the master bedroom, where the magic happens, yada yada yada..." he trailed off, trying to remain nonchalant while he watched you peek your head through the doorframe. The room held the glow of the late afternoon sun, and the king bed that rested in the center was covered in dark green bedding and orange pillows. A mid century modern dresser stood against the far wall, with a framed picture of Rose on top next to an intense looking speaker system.
You ducked your head back out of the doorframe and turned your attention back to Sam in the hallway. "Wow, your room is very zen," you remarked, carrying on down the hall.
"Thanks... that means a lot, coming from the 'zen queen'," he joked. "The only thing I'm really missing from the old place is my plants," he continued, "but that's what I was starting to work on when you showed up."
"Well don't let me keep you from your important planting," you jested. "I'm sure I could find something else to do with my night if you want to continue..."
The hurt look that flashed across Sam's face at your comment caught you off guard briefly, but he quickly recovered.
"Actually, I was waiting for someone to show up cause I need some help. So I'm going to put you to work," he smiled. "Consider it repayment for the big fancy dinner I'm going to cook you later."
"It doesn't count as repayment if you haven't cooked the dinner yet, Sammy."
"Fine, prepayment, whatever..." he rolled his eyes as the two of you bickered your way back to the kitchen. He continued walking back to the door that led to the backyard, while you stopped next to the island.
"Want to get some wine poured while I run outside and grab something?" He asked, pointing to the cupboard next to the fridge. "Glasses are in there, and the opener is in the drawer above the dishwasher. I'll be right back." He gave a mock salute before slipping out the door.
You got to work on pulling wine glasses out of the cupboard Sam had pointed out, retrieving the bottle of wine you had brought from the fridge and twisting the top off. You poured two generous glasses, taking a sip from one while you watched Sam open the back door again. He was carrying a mess of rope and plant pots, placing everything on the tiled counter of the island before reaching for his wine glass. He hummed to himself, glancing over to where the bottle rested on the counter.
"You didn't need the opener?" He asked, swishing the wine around before taking a small sip.
"Sam." You leveled him with a look. "I learned my lesson with bottle corks years ago, remember? I've been using twist-offs ever since."
"Right, right, how could I ever forget?" He chuckled to himself, no doubt lost in the memory of you trying and failing to get the cork out of a wine bottle and smashing the whole thing on the middle of your kitchen floor. It had been a party at your apartment, and that spill had led to a days long argument with your boyfriend. He thought you had done it on purpose for attention. Sam had been the one to run to your pantry for extra paper towels, carefully bagging the broken glass and walking it out to the apartment building's dumpster before returning to the party. His girlfriend had watched the interaction with shifty eyes, but you were just thankful that he had taken over the cleaning. Your hands had been shaking too badly to risk having anywhere near the broken glass.
Sam took a longer sip of his wine, trying to clear the mildly unpleasant memory, and gestured to the materials he had brought in from outside.
"So I have these macrame plant holders," he started, "and I want to hang them in front of the kitchen windows. But I think it's a two person job, cause someone needs to hold them up while the other person drills the hooks into the ceiling."
You nodded as he spoke, following along with his plans. "Whatever you need, Sammy boy," you hummed, grabbing a macrame rope from the counter. He went to fetch the drill while you dragged a kitchen chair over to the first window frame.
"I think if you stand on the chair and hold up the hook, I can reach it with the drill since, ya know, I'm taller." He gave you a smirk.
"Congratutions on being tall," you rolled your eyes. "Can't relate," you added.
"I know you can't," he smiled down at you smugly, pressing the drill's button and whirring the machine in his hand while stepping closer to you.
You took steps backwards as he took slow steps forwards, until the backs of your legs hit the kitchen chair you had placed by the window pane. Sam held eye contact with you as you swallowed the nervous lump in your throat. Suddenly, he reached his free hand out to hold in front of you. You took it slowly, stepping up so that you were standing on the kitchen chair. You reluctantly let go of his hand once you were steady, wishing that you could have lingered longer with his touch on yours.
In your new positions, Sam's face rested at the height of your sternum. He reached up easily with the drill, to the place where he wanted the plant holder to hang from, and started making a preliminary hole. You watched his careful hands as they smoothed away the excess drywall dust, moving out of the way for you to reach up with the hook. You attached it into the ceiling, twisting the screwed end in to secure it and actively trying to ignore the way that you could feel Sam's exhaling breath landing on your slightly exposed chest. The closeness of his breathing made you wobble on the chair, losing your balance only slightly before Sam's free hand reached out to your hip in an effort to steady you.
"Careful," he rasped, watching you turn the screw the last couple of times before removing your hands from the ceiling. His eyes met yours when you brought your hands down to your sides, snatching his own hand away from your body as if it had touched an open flame.
"You good?" He asked, reaching out a hand for you to hop down from the chair. You just nodded, letting your feet hit the floor again and dragging the chair over to the next window opening in order to repeat the process.
The two of you worked in silent tandem, repeating the movements twice more to cover off all of the windows in Sam's new kitchen. When the last macrame holder was screwed in, you dragged the chair back to the table in the breakfast nook while Sam retrieved the potted plants from where he had left them on the island. You watched silently as he maneuvered the pots into the holders, adjusting the plants so that their leaves hung down between the ropes.
When he reached up to do the second plant pot, you realized that his black button up shirt had ridden up towards his belly button. A light dusting of hair trailed over his tanned skin and led into the confines of his pants, making you blush and turn away to your wineglass. You gave your head a slight shake to ward away the thoughts you were having about your friend - you tried to turn your mind to your boyfriend, wondering what he was doing at home right now. The problem was, you didn't really care.
"There," Sam proclaimed as he finished fluffing the leaves on the last plant. "That feels a little more like home to me." He smiled at your handiwork, and then turned to smile at you.
"Looks great," you agreed, nodding into your wine glass as you pushed it to your lips once again. Your cheeks were starting to feel flushed - you'd downed a fair bit of the alcohol while waiting for Sam to finish adjusting the plants.
"You know what would make it feel even more like home, I bet?" You asked, raising your eyebrows in Sam's direction.
"This will be good," he deadpanned in return.
"A record! You do have your player hooked up already, don't you?" Your eyes betrayed your excitement - Sam had the best record collection of anyone you'd ever met.
"Uhhh, duh!" came Sam's response, grabbing his wine off of the counter and waving a hand behind him for you to follow into the living room.
You settled onto Sam's pink velvet couch, the numerous throw pillows instantly engulfing you and making you sink into the cushions. You placed your wine glass on the coffee table in front of you while you took in the room in more detail than you'd been able to on your brief tour earlier.
The room was large, easily accounting for Sam's piano that stood in the corner. Across from the couch was a fireplace, a large screen TV hanging above it. The left side of the room is where Sam stood in front of a vintage looking sideboard. The cupboard of the unit stood open, and Sam was shuffling through the extensive record collection hidden inside. His record player stood proudly on the top of the walnut coloured piece of furniture.
While he searched for the perfect album, you took another sweeping look across the room. You noticed that the only photos in frames were of Rose and Sam's family. The only knick knacks around the space were the ones that Sam had brought home from touring the world. Your breath caught as you made the realization - you had yet to see anything belonging to Sam's girlfriend in his new house. On the one hand, it was his house... so it made sense that all the items would be his. On the other hand, they had been together for years at this point... you thought for sure that there would be some items of hers laying around, or at least some photos of them in the frames around the room.
"Uhhh, Sammy?" You started, stomach turning over as you anticipated asking a dumb question.
"Whats up?" He responded casually, finally choosing a record and flipping the cover over between his long fingers. He dumped the record out of the sleeve into his hand, placing it deftly on the turntable and dropping the needle onto the edge. You watched in a quiet trance as the beginning notes of Hozier's Wasteland Baby album began to play.
Sam turned around to you with his eyebrows raised, silently wondering if you were going to continue.
"It's just..." you didn't know how to phrase the question you wanted to ask. "I don't see any of Kayley's stuff around here. Or any pictures of you guys. Did I miss something?"
Sam huffed a small breath through his nostrils, settling into the couch beside you.
"I mean, we broke up if that's what you're asking."
You felt a jolt of electric energy shoot through you as you processed his words.
"What? When? We were with you guys like a month ago and everything seemed fine!" You blurted out, trying to process the new information.
"Okay, that was over a month ago, thank you very much," Sam mumbled. You threw him a look in response. "We just... we were on different pages. She assumed that me moving here meant that she was moving in, and I just... I wanted space. When I set her straight on the fact that she wasn't moving in here with me, she suggested that we see other people." He cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "Actually, she suggested that I see you instead."
Your mouth popped open in shock as you struggled to regulate your breathing. "Why on earth would she suggest that?" You mumbled, already knowing the answer. People had teased you and Sam about your natural chemistry for years. But it didn't matter, you had a boyfriend that you lived with and had loved for years. You loved him, right? Yes, you reminded yourself. Yes you did. At one point. But did you still? It didn't matter. Just because Sam suddenly found himself single didn't mean that he wanted to be with you. He hadn't ended his relationship. He would have still been with her, willingly, if she hadn't broken up with him.
All of these thoughts tumbled through your head as you and Sam maintained eye contact across the couch. He was studying you closely again, trying to peer into the depths of your thoughts and monitoring any twitch of movement on your face. The weight of his gaze was intense, and you were the first to look away.
You leaned forward to pick up your wine, taking a big gulp before setting the glass back down on the table. "Well I'm sorry to hear that, Sammy. I know how much you cared about her."
"That's true," he hummed. "I did care about her. But did I love her? I'm not sure."
You stared down at your hands, wracking your brain for something to say in return.
"Oh well, it's probably for the best," Sam continued with a sigh. "She was never really supportive of our friendship anyways. And she couldn't accept the fact that you aren't going anywhere. You're in my life for good, kid. I hope you realize that."
You glanced up, meeting the intensity of Sam's brown eyes while he took a big sip from his own wine glass.
"Trevor doesn't like it when we hang out either," you responded. "I'm pretty sure he thinks something is going on between us." You rolled your eyes at the absurdity of the assumption.
Sam let out a chuckle beside you. "I kind of gathered that," he laughed. "That dude looks like he wants to beat the shit out of me every chance that he gets."
You smiled too at that, knowing that Sam was only partially joking, and leaned back further into the plush pillows of the couch. The soft sounds of Hozier floated over you as you let your eyes close for a second.
"Sammy, these speakers are amazing," you mumbled out, eyes still closed.
"They're nice, huh? Want to see something cool?" You felt the couch shift beside you as Sam stood up, and when you opened your eyes he was standing in front of you holding an outstretched hand in your direction.
"I always want to see something cool," you replied with a smile, taking his hand and letting him pull you up from the comfort of the couch.
Sam kept a hold of your hand as he pulled you down the hallway that led to the bedrooms and the bathroom. He took a sharp turn into his bedroom, dropping your hand once you made it through the doorway and walking over to flick the power switch on the speakers that sat atop his dresser. The same Hozier song that was playing from the record in the living room boomed through the bedroom speakers.
"Holy shit, they're all connected?!" You asked excitedly. Sam just nodded at you, smiling at your reaction.
"Pretty cool, huh?"
"The coolest, Sammy. You're pretty much the coolest person I know," you smiled.
You sat down on the end of his bed as the final notes of Shrike played out through the speakers. Sam had been hovering near the dresser, but he slowly made his way over towards you while the first chords of Talk played out through the house.
You had spread your arms out behind you, propping yourself up on your hands while leaning back slightly to watch Sam as he approached. He stopped in front of you, stepping in between your slightly parted legs. His presence loomed over you in a way that made you short of breath. You held each other's stare as he took another small step forward, now crowding you slightly. You held your breath as the chorus of the song started.
I won't deny
I've got in my mind now
All the things i would do
So I'll try to talk refined
For fear that you'll find out
How I'm imagining you
As Hozier's words hung softly in the air around the two of you, Sam slowly brought his hand up to your face. He ran the pad of his thumb over your closed lips, catching slightly on the plumpness of your bottom one while he dragged his finger over it.
You swallowed thickly, leaning back even further and craning your neck up to maintain eye contact. The position allowed for your neck to be completely exposed, and the slow drag of Sam's hand followed the curve of it until his fingers lightly wrapped around your throat.
He leaned forward even more, making you almost horizontal on the bed, and whispered against your lips. "This song has always made me think of you."
It felt like fireworks were going off in your brain. What did he mean? Did he think of you in the way that you thought of him sometimes? Was he willing to risk your friendship for this? Were you willing to risk your relationship for this?
The alarm bells in your head were silenced by one simple thought that overrode all the others - you would go anywhere and do anything for this man in front of you, consequences be damned.
He brought your attention back to the present by lightly squeezing his fingers around your throat.
"Just say the word and I'll stop," he whispered, his breath fanning across your parted lips. "God, I need to know how you taste. You've been driving me insane for years..."
His voice trailed off as he leaned in impossibly closer to you, watching closely for the slight nod you gave before he finally covered your lips with his. He pressed himself further into you, letting go of your throat in favour of holding himself up with an arm extended next to your head. His lips parted slowly, inviting your tongue into his mouth and pushing back with his own to deepen the kiss.
Your moan was stifled against Sam's lips, but he seemed to take it as encouragement to kiss you even harder. You leaned back onto your elbows, eventually falling to your back as Sam drove you even further into the bed. Your hands skated their way up Sam's torso, pausing to undo the few buttons that had been done up on his shirt, and eventually they found their home in the hair at the base of Sam's neck. You gave a light tug to the strands, earning a deep groan from the man above you that vibrated against your lips. You couldn't help but smile against his kiss, making him pause and pull away from you for a moment.
"You have no idea how many times I've had to hold myself back from doing that," Sam admitted quietly, ducking down to brush his nose back and forth against yours a few times.
You smiled, adjusting yourself on the bed underneath him and lightly thrusting your hips into his. You could feel how hard he was already, even throught the layers of clothing separating you two.
He groaned again at your movements, reaching up to grasp your wrists before bringing them back down to pin against the bed above your head. He held you there for a moment, running his thumbs over the delicate skin on your wrists.
"Show me," you whispered. His eyebrows knitted together in silent question, not understanding what you meant. "Show me what else you've wanted to do to me," you clarified, daring him to make another move.
A devilish smirk appeared on his lips before he leaned down to nuzzle his lips into the skin between your neck and your ear. "As you wish," he mumbled.
Sam's lips began tracing a pathway from the side of your neck down to your sternum, pausing briefly to have you lift your shirt over your head. He began working back down, hovering his lips low on your hip bones while he shimmied your shorts down and off your legs. Lying beneath him in just your bra and panties for the first time, you didn't have time to be self conscious. He let out a shaky breath as he ran his hands delicately up your sides, taking his time feeling the smooth skin and admiring you in a way that he had never had the privilege of seeing.
His eyes traced up to your face while his hands made their way to your bra, keeping eye contact as he pulled the cups down to expose your nipples. They immediately pebbled in the cool air of the room, and Sam's glance down to them made him release a quiet whimper. He immediately leaned in, taking one into his mouth and suckling harshly. You let out a cry at the feeling, arching your back and tossing your head back into the mattress. Your hands reached down to hold the sides of Sam's head, holding him in place as he continued running his mouth around your chest.
He released the first nipple with a pop, and made his way over to the other side to repeat the process. His movements were quickly reducing you to a whimpering mess beneath him.
You arched your back again, bringing one hand down from the side of Sam's head to reach between you. You were desperate to feel him, desperate to make him feel as good as he was making you feel.
You slid your hand into the waistband of his linen pants, gliding over his smooth hips before wrapping a hand around his hard cock. As soon as you made contact, Sam's lips left your nipple and he rested his forehead on your sternum, breathing heavily.
"Fuck," he breathed out, trying to control himself.
"Is this what you always thought it would feel like?" You whispered into his hair, sliding your hand back and forth lightly. You collected a bead of precum from the tip, running your thumb along the underside and silently marveling at how big he was.
"Fuck no," he shook his head, lifting slightly to look down in between you at where your hand disappeared into his pants. "This is so much better." He looked up into your eyes, leaning forward to kiss you before continuing. "The amount of times I've jerked off and wished it was your touch..."
He trailed off as you smiled, somewhat proud that you weren't the only one pining in your friendship over the years.
"I've thought about you too," you admitted, continuing the slow movements of your hand.
Sam reached up to pinch your nipple lightly. "Hmmm," he mumbled, stumbling over his thoughts while your thumb ran around his tip again. "What did you think about?"
"Mostly how badly I wanted to feel you inside me," you blushed. "And I had a feeling you had a big cock."
"Oh my god," Sam sighed, dropping his forehead to rest on yours. "Are you gonna take it all?" He rasped, making you gasp and arch your back again as you nodded.
"Can I suck it first?" You whispered, biting your lip while you guaged his reaction. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, bringing a hand up to hold onto your throat again.
His thumb migrated over your chin and into your mouth, where you rolled your tongue over it and sucked softly. Sam drew in a shuddered breath, keeping his eyes locked to where his thumb disappeared into your mouth. You felt him throb in your hand, becoming impossibly harder.
"Fuck, as much as I would love that..." he spoke slowly and quietly, "I don't think I'll last very long. Next time," he whispered into the thick air between you. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the mention of doing this again.
You smiled around his thumb in your mouth before he withdrew it, drawing away from you completely and moving to stand above you at the end of the bed. The elastic of his waistband snapped against his tan skin as he stood, your hand slipping out of his pants in the process. He slowly stripped while he stared you down from his position at your feet, throwing his shirt, pants, and boxers off to the side of his room.
You brought your hand up to your mouth as you watched him, licking away the salty precum from your fingers. Your eyes closed briefly as you savored the taste of him and you let out a satisfied hum. From the end of the bed, you heard a groan that made you open your eyes.
You had a perfect view of Sam standing between your bent legs, his own hand working slowly over his cock.
"Holy fuck, kid," he whispered. "You like the way I taste?"
You nodded at him with heavily lidded eyes, grinning at the effect you were clearly having on him. Your hands trailed down your own body, enjoying the way that Sam's eyes were following every move, until they reached the elastic band at the top of your panties. You made a point to slide them down slowly over your legs, bending your knees at a ninety degree angle so that you could slide them off completely. You tossed them to the side of the room where they landed with the pile of clothing Sam had already created, and planted your feet flat on the bed. You let your legs fall open slightly, intentionally giving Sam a sneak peek of your pussy.
He let out another strained groan above you, shaking his head as he moved to wrap one hand around each of your ankles.
"I think you're trying to kill me," he said softly. Your giggle turned into a yelping sound as he yanked you closer towards the edge of the bed, using his grip on your ankles to fold your legs back. He leaned over your lower half, eyes stuck on the way that your pussy was spread out just for him.
"Keep your legs just like this," he ordered, trailing his hands up to your calves and then to your knees as he spread your legs even wider. He kept his hands over your knees as he leaned down closer to your center, letting a trail of spit dangle from his mouth to land on your pussy.
You clenched around nothing as his saliva landed on you, and Sam was studying your body closely enough that he caught the subtle movement.
"You like that?" he questioned, eyes briefly flickering up to meet yours. You nodded in response, swallowing audibly while your gaze followed Sam's right index finger moving towards your core.
You gasped and tossed your head back into the duvet as his finger rubbed a slow circle over your aching clit. Again, you clenched around nothing while your head lifted slightly to look at Sam.
"Please," you whimpered, trying to maintain your composure.
"Please what, baby?" Sam teased, keeping his touch light. "You want me to fill you up? What do you want, my fingers or my cock? Use your words, sweetheart."
You groaned at his words, lightly thrusting your hips up into his hand in an effort to gain more friction from his finger that was still slowly circling you.
"I don't care, Sammy," you whispered. "Please, just do something. You're driving me crazy..." The last part of your sentence left your lips on a whine, desperate for Sam to touch you.
"Shhhhh, baby, it's okay," he soothed, dragging his finger down towards your entrance. "You can have my fingers for now, baby. Got to make sure you're nice and stretched out for me..."
His voice trailed off into a groan when his index finger slipped into you. You cried out at the sensation, thrusting your hips upwards once again to draw him in further.
He slowly drew his finger out of you before plunging it back in, repeating the pattern until you were writhing underneath him and begging for more.
"You want another?" Sam questioned softly, eyes glued to the spot where his hand connected to your body.
"Please, Sammy," you whispered desperately.
"You sound so pretty like this," he mused, removing his finger and rubbing it over your clit before bringing two back down to your entrance. "Deep breath, baby girl. You're so tight, I don't want to hurt you..."
You followed his instructions and inhaled deeply, accepting the added intrusion with ease. His fingers curled into you as you clawed at the duvet, desperate for something to hold onto.
"Sammy," you moaned out on a whisper. "That's so good. So good..." You trailed off, closing your eyes and turning to bury your face into the bedding underneath you.
Your eyes were ripped open again as you felt another string of saliva land on your clit. You watched as Sam's free hand left its resting place on your knee and began rubbing over your core. The combined sensation of both of his hands working over you drove you closer to the edge, and you clenched down hard around his fingers.
"Think you can cum like this, baby?"
"Mhmm," you nodded, hands reaching to pinch your own nipples. "Keep talking to me, Sammy. I love it when you talk to me..."
"God, you're so fucking good," Sam rasped, leaning over you more closely and letting his eyes trail over every inch of your body. "You're so fucking tight, and wet, I just know you're gonna feel so good wrapped around my cock..."
You clenched around his fingers again, making him moan out on his next breath as he started pumping them faster into you.
"Come on, baby, give it up," he coaxed. "I can feel it, you want to let go so badly. Make a mess of me, sweetheart, come on..."
His left hand moved faster in circles over your clit while his right hand drove his two fingers into you faster and harder. The edges of your vision started to blacken as you felt your hips lifting off the bed, pausing there while your eyes pinched shut and you cried out. You rode the waves of pleasure until you stopped seeing stars, Sam's eyes glued to your face the whole time.
"I could watch you do that every day for the rest of my life," he whispered, slowly withdrawing his hands from your core. He smoothed his hands around to your hips, working his way up over the soft skin at your sides and working his thumbs over the peaks of your nipples.
Your eyes slowly opened as you melted into the soft movements of his hands, humming to yourself and taking in the sight of him above you.
One of his hands left your body, and you watched him wrap a fist around his own cock that had been left to obscenely bob between you. You licked your lips when you spied a drop of precum glistening at the tip.
"Sam," you whispered, reaching out to grasp his torso. You pulled him closer to you in the process, your hands gripping the smooth skin of his abdomen.
"Are you ready for me, baby?" he questioned, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours while his hand continued its subtle movements between you.
You nodded, moving his face with yours in the process. You angled your face up slightly, tilting your lips towards his. He took the hint, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss as he moaned against you.
When you broke apart for a breath, you whispered against his lips. "Fuck me like you do in your dreams, Sammy..."
He let out a whimper, threading his free hand into your hair and taking a step even closer to you at the foot of the bed. His sudden closeness caused the tip of his cock to grind against your clit, and you cried out.
"There it is, baby," he rasped, continuing to rub himself against you. "That's how you sound in my dreams..."
With one more slant of his hips, he lined up his cock at your entrance. He slid in inch by inch, watching your face intently as your mouth dropped open and your eyes rolled back. He smiled, knowing that the intensity of the feeling was mutual, before pulling back slightly and slamming his hips back into yours.
Sam straightened his posture slightly, leaning back to watch where he disappeared into you. His hands wandered down your sides, coming to rest at your hips just above the crease where your legs start. Once he had a grip on you, he started moving with more intent. He pounded into you relentlessly, watching your tits bounce with every snap of his hips. The grunts escaping his parted lips matched the whines escaping yours, and the two of you were completely lost in one another.
"That's it, baby," Sam panted, nuzzling his face into your neck. His lips left a trail from your collarbone down to your nipple, where he latched on like his life depended on it. After sucking it harshly for a few seconds, his lips let it go and he licked softly over the peak. He let his tongue trace across the center of your sternum as he repeated the process with your other nipple.
"Sammy, please," you cried, fingers threading into his hair and keeping his face pressed into your chest. He was still moving his hips at a bruising pace, his cock swelling inside you even more as he listened to you beg.
"I've got you," he whispered into your chest. "Just let it happen, baby. Give up another one for me, you know you want to..."
You were nodding along with his words as he spoke, convincing yourself to just let go. You felt the orgasm blooming inside you but held yourself back from the edge.
"It's too much, Sammy," you cried, tears rolling out the corners of your eyes. "It's too strong. It feels too good. I - I -..."
He lifted his head from your chest, moving one of his hands up from your waist to wipe away the tears on your face. Still, his length pounded into you with no reprieve.
"I told you, baby, I've got you," he consoled you. "Just let go, it's gonna be so good... soak me, baby, come on," he was mumbling against your cheek, practically begging you to make a mess of him.
A few more strokes of him inside you had the feeling bursting out of you like you'd never felt before. You felt the evidence of your orgasm raining down over Sam's length and pooling on the blanket under your ass. You opened your eyes to find Sam already looking at you, a smile on his face as he admired your flushed skin.
"That was fucking hot, baby," he grunted, the efforts of his powerful thrusts wearing on him. "We're gonna have some fun with that in the future," he grinned, winking at you. You smiled back at him, reaching up to trace your hands over the smooth skin on his chest.
"That's never happened to me before," you admitted sheepishly. "You just make me feel so fucking good, Sammy. So good..."
You felt his cock swell again as he thrusted into you more sloppily, and you could tell he was close.
"Where do you want me to cum, baby?" he breathed out over your cheek.
You didn't hesitate. "Inside. Please Sammy, inside," you begged, desperately wanting him to fill you up.
Sam traced a hand over your hair, smoothing an unruly strand out of your face. "Gladly," he whispered, using one hand to grip your chin so that he could guide your face towards his.
He pulled you into a deep kiss, grunting as he faltered in his thrusts and spilled into you. He slowed his hips significantly to avoid the overstimulation, but you were caught up in the feeling of fullness that his orgasm had provided. You moaned against his lips, and he eventually broke the kiss to lean his forehead against yours. You were both panting, trying to catch your breath and trying to hold onto the magic of the moment.
Sam gave you a lopsided smile, his kiss-swollen lips pulling back to expose his perfectly white teeth. He once again reached up to move a stray strand of hair away from your face.
"That was incredible," he whispered, the smile spreading even wider across his face.
"As good as you imagined it would be?" you questioned, raising an eyebrow at him with a grin.
"Better. So much better," he replied without hesitation. "Fuck, it's like you're made for me," he continued, kissing over both your cheeks and the tip of your nose. You giggled, clenching your pussy around his softening cock and reminding both of you that he was still resting inside you.
"I'm gonna pull out now, baby," he whispered as a warning.
You brought a hand up to the side of his face, rubbing over the stubble on his cheek. "I hate this part," you admitted quietly.
"Me too, sweetheart," he replied softly, turning his face slightly so that he could lay a kiss into your palm. He rocked his hips slowly, drawing his length further out of you on each backwards movement until he pulled it out completely.
You hissed at the sudden feeling of emptiness, but your discomfort was short lived as you registered Sam's hands gliding down your body to the tops of your bent knees. He held your legs open, eyes glued to your cunt where he watched in awe as his release trickled out of you.
He reached down, running a finger through the mess he made and bringing that same finger up to your lips. He watched expectantly as you wrapped your lips around his finger, lapping up his cum and swirling your tongue around the digit to ensure it was clean.
"Fuck," he whispered, watching every miniscule movement of your lips. "I think we just unlocked a new kink of mine," he admitted.
You smiled as he removed his finger from your lips. "I'm into it," you grinned, wrapping a hand around Sam's arm and pulling him down to kiss you. "We've got time to explore all the kinks you can think of..."
"Fuck, I can't wait baby," he replied against your lips, pausing to kiss you again. "You're staying here with me tonight," he whispered. "We'll get some dinner, drink some more wine, maybe do this again..." he trailed off, painting the picture of a perfect evening.
You froze as you remembered the boyfriend waiting for you at home. Sam seemed to read your mind, reaching up to stroke your hair as if he could physically remove the thought from your mind. "Don't think about him. Don't think about anything. We'll stay in this bubble for tonight, and we'll deal with the rest tomorrow."
You nodded slowly, eyes tracing over Sam's beautiful face. "I guess if I don't go home tonight, that kind of ends things." You both let out a chuckle at that.
"It would," Sam agreed. "Is that what you want?"
You hummed in contemplation. "Yeah, I think it's time. Is that what you want?"
"I want you. All the time, forever. I always have, since the day I met you. So yes, I think you should stay here with me and leave him for good."
You smiled at Sam's admission, nodding in agreement.
"Does that sound like a plan?" he asked, smiling down at you.
"Sounds like a great plan," you agreed.
The two of you moved to get up from the bed, Sam tossing you a spare set of clothes from his dresser that were more comfortable than the clothes you had worn to his house. You pulled on the too-long sweatpants and the long sleeved Paul McCartney tour shirt that hung far past your wrists while Sam pulled on black linen pants and a grey cashmere sweater. You shared a goofy smile before you followed him out to the living room, where you cracked open a new bottle of wine and Sam placed an order from the local Chinese food place.
With a belly full of Chinese food and wine, and a heart full of promises of the future, you fell asleep tangled in Sam's arms on the couch while The Force Awakens played in the background.
You felt his lips in your hair as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. "Goodnight, my love," he whispered.
Warnings: graphic sexual content, drinking, swearing, oral sex, dirty talk, etc. y’all know me by now, I’m a mess.
"Alright," Josh says, hanging over his little brother's shoulder as Sam checks the weather doppler on his phone. "If we're going to make it back before the snow really hits, we should go now.
"Did you write a list?" Sam asks you, shoving Josh off a little. "Jesus, Josh...a little personal space would be nice."
"Touch," Josh jokes with the flourish of a stage actor. "the language of love, and brother Sam, I love you most of all."
"Fuck off." Sam rolls his eyes and then turns his attention back to you. "List?"
"I wish you guys just wouldn't go at all." You can't disguise the worry in your tone. And honestly, why would you even try? What would be the point? These brothers know you through and through, as you do them. You've been friends with Sammy since kindergarten. Truthfully, they are more your brothers than friends. You love them with your whole heart, with one exception. You cast your eyes in Jake's direction, watching him pluck at his guitar for a moment...does he ever put that thing down?
It's not that you don't love Jake, you do. In that strange way you love a cousin that you can't stand, the one you'd never miss if they just stopped attending family gatherings. It's a miserable kind of affection that you could do without. You'll never understand how you can adore Josh the way you do, and detest his twin at the same time. Not to mention your absolute adoration for Sammy, your person, your platonic soulmate...how are they all cut from the same cloth?
"It's not polite to stare, princess." Jake smirks over at you and you'd love to smack the smile right off his smug face.
"Here." You take the high road and ignore him, turning to Sam instead to hand over the list of items you'll need for the rest of your time tucked away in the little cabin you rented in the forests outside of Flint. "But seriously, Sammy, I don't think you should go."
"I'll be fine," He places his hand over the top of your head, squeezing lightly with his long fingers. "I'm the only Kiszka brother who actually knows how to drive. Plus, one of these assholes is going to come with and keep me company. Unless you've changed your mind about coming along."
You don't offer an answer to a clearly rhetorical question. He knows you're not going anywhere near the roads since the first dusting of snow fell the night before. Born and raised in Michigan or not, you don't do well with winter weather. It frightens you to no end to travel in it. How Sam had managed to talk you into coming after you all learned snow would be moving through during your time in the woods, you'll never know.
"Don't look at me." Jake stands and stretches, finally putting his guitar aside. "I plan to take a bath and then a nap." His nails rake across his lower stomach as he strides from the room holding up a half empty bottle of whiskey "Don't forget my refreshments." He calls out with his faux english accent. "I've only two bottles left after this one."
"Whiskey for Oliver, check." Josh shakes his head and begins shoving his feet down into his boots by the door.
You can't help it and roll your eyes. "I don't know why you guys encourage him."
"And I don't know how you can manage to dislike my better half as much as you do, love." Josh winks. "You realize we started as one person, right?"
"Better half my ass." You wink back. "Seriously guys, please be careful. Drive slow, pretend I'm in the backseat well on my way to a stress induced panic attack."
"This is why we're leaving you here." Sam salutes you and then blows a kiss in your direction. The door slams behind them, muting their boisterous laughter and conversation until the sound of car doors whacking shut silences them completely.
You look around the cozy living room of the cabin, trying to decide what to do to keep busy until their return. A bath and a glass of wine would have been nice, but the sound of the faucet pouring water in the distance reminds you that Jake is occupying the only bathroom with a tub, and a shower just doesn't hold the same appeal. Thanks, Jacob.
Moving to the solid cherry bookshelf that dominates a corner of the front room, you begin scanning titles, finally giving up out of irritation and general lack of interest, you yank a paperback out without glancing at the cover or summary...wishing for the hundredth time that Ronnie or Danny could have joined you for the trip.
~~
The jarring blare of a phone ringing jerks you out of sleep and into confusion. You can hear Jake's voice murmuring in another room, adding to your disorientation. You must have nodded off, but for how long? The afternoon light that had been pouring into the cabin when you snuggled down onto the couch to read had disappeared completely. Having given way to midnight blue skies and driving snow framed by the windows.
"Hey, sleeping beauty." Jake pokes his head around the corner. "That was Sam and Josh. The snow hit sooner than they thought and the roads are bad. They're gonna stay in town until morning and then head back once the plows come through."
"Oh..." You pull your knees up to your chest, hugging them.
"Wow." he widens his eyes sarcastically. "Astute observation."
"Fuck you, Jake." You snap, sounding a little more cruel than intended.
"That would keep us occupied, I suppose." he winks, sauntering off with an expression of superiority.
"Leave it alone." You mutter to yourself. What's the sense in pointing out that you hadn't meant it that way? He knows.
Once again, you grab your book, plucking it from the quaint rag rug that warms up the cabin's wooden floor. However, it does just as terrible a job of holding your interest as it did the first time...only now, you're too rested, thanks to your nap, and there is little chance of drifting off.
Spending the night here, essentially alone -given the company you have been bequeathed by fates with a sick sense of humor- sounds torturous.You roll onto your back and begin searching for hidden pictures in the grain of the large, rich, wooden beams that line the ceiling.
Soon, the mournful whines of Jake breathing into his harmonica begin to meander through the walls. It's undeniably soothing, warming you from the inside while the flames licking at the logs in the fireplace toast you dreamily from the outside.
You're chagrined to find a calm smile playing over your lips when you recognize the notes floating from his room...and if you try hard enough, you can almost hear the quiet wail of Joplin's trademark rasp as he plays one of your favorite songs.
How fitting that your gaze is transfixed by the fire while your heart is transfixed with the music he seems to be playing just for you. Does he know that it's one of your favorite songs? Does he remember the conversation you recall having with Josh months ago, about the pain in her voice, how it breaks your heart in two in the most achingly beautiful way? Was he listening to you? Hiding it away for a rainy day in some quiet corner of his mind?
You're being ridiculous. And also irritating yourself with this uncharacteristic, albeit private, display of rom-com starlette like thoughts.
You don't even like him, why would you care if he remembered that you liked a song? Certainly, you don't care that he's chosen it, even if he has chosen it for you.
A sudden flicker of light outside jars you from your revere. Jake must notice too, as the harmonica falls instantly silent. Moments into wondering what the hell it could possibly have been, a sharp rumble of thunder shocks you into a sitting position.
Thundersnow. Thunder and lightning during a snowstorm is such a rarity that despite living in an incredibly snowy region your entire life, you've witnessed it less than a handful of times. You pull the blanket up around your shoulders with a shiver that has little to do with being cold.
Jake struts into the room at a leisurely clip bearing a fresh bottle of whiskey and two low ball glasses which he promptly plunks down on the coffee table.
"I know you don't like thunder." he informs you as if he's a knight in shining armor. "Thought I'd sit with you."
"That doesn't help matters much though, does it?" you ask, training your eyes back on the pages of the previously forgotten book.
"Why's that?" he spins the cap off the bottle.
"Because, I don't like you either." You instantly regret the amount of venom in your tone, but he laughs, sloshing Maker's into both glasses.
"Don't be rude, doll." he snaps, shoving one of the glasses in your direction.
"You're the rude one." you wave the paperback around. "You see I'm trying to read." you resist the urge to tell him to leave the room even though you'd very much like him to.
A scoff precedes an eye roll. "You aren't reading that shit. It's not pretentious enough for you." Making a show of it, you turn a page and shoot him the middle finger.
"Well, you sure showed me, princess." That's another thing that gets under your skin to a fiery degree. You're neither his princess, nor his doll.
"Listen, it's just you and me tonight whether we like it or not. And I, for one, think the prospect of spending the night with no one to talk to but you, calls for copious amounts of alcohol. You're at least halfway tolerable when I'm fucked. So drink up, love," he points to the share he poured you. "Cheers."
It can't quite be classified as giving in when you grab the glass up and mutely suck down a large gulp. It can't be, right? You'd have to actually speak to him for it to be a concession. Or, that's what you choose to believe anyway.
You drink in silence for a while, avoiding words and communication of any sort aside from him refreshing your whiskey each time you stick your hand out and shake the glass around.
You're feeling more than tipsy when he softly breaks the silence. "Truth or dare?"
Stifling a groan you glare over at him in his chair on the other side of the coffee table. "Truth or dare? What is this, middle school? Seven minutes in heaven next?"
"Fine by me." he holds his glass up, a silently, snotty toast "Wouldn't be my first time hate-fucking someone."
Your mouth drops open in what, surely, is a very unflattering way. "You fucking wish, Jake."
He shrugs. "Not really, you're a bit uptight for my taste."
"I'm not uptight!" You're incredibly offended, though you shouldn't give a damn.
"Sure you're not." he laughs. "Prove it then, wild child...truth or dare?"
"This is so cliche' and stupid." You huff. But, squaring your shoulders, you accept the challenge. “This is how horror movies start, you realize. Stranded alone in the woods, truth or dare, drinking."
"What if it isn't what's out there that you need to worry about." he cocks his head toward the window but keeps his eyes on yours.
Your stare widens in mock fear. "Very ominous, Jakey. Truth."
"Why do you hate me?" he goes straight for the jugular, leading you to speculate on the possibility that he may have been sitting on this question for a very long time.
"I don't hate you." you answer honestly. "I just, I don't know, we don't click. Never have. Oil and water, I guess. Plus, you're smug and arrogant, and every time I turn around you've got some idiot girl crashing our parties with her big tits and mindless chatter."
"Does that bother you?"
"No.” You instantly feel a pang of embarrassment; you wouldn’t have mentioned it if it didn’t bother you at least a little. “You're cheating, by the way...you only get to ask one question."
He nods at you, holding his hands up as if to say 'I would never infringe on the rules'.
"Why do you hate me?” Why did you even ask him that? Do you really want to know the answer? Do you even care?
"I don't hate you either." he shrugs and strokes his palms down his jeans "You just push my buttons, is all...and not in a good way."
You find yourself wondering what it would be like to push his buttons in a good way, and the self loathing that comes along with those types of thoughts about Jake is, admittedly, a familiar feeling. The sexual tension that has always burned low in the energy between the two of you sometimes goes with the territory of disliking someone. Especially when the someone you dislike is as physically attractive as Jake happens to be. You push the thought away, and on you go in an attempt to make the most of your ruined evening.
~~
The game has evolved into to not really a game at all as the night wears on, and you're now mostly just trading increasingly inappropriate questions...the whiskey loosening your tongues and erasing inhibitions.
Jake abandons his glass and swills straight from the bottle and then passes it off to you. "What kind of porn do you like?" he asks as casually as he might ask for the time.
Coughing a little on the maker's as it burns a trail down to your belly, you feel your eyes widen. "Who says I watch porn?"
He gives you an 'oh please' look. "Play the game, Princess."
The booze has left you with no filter. "I fucking hate when you call me that."
"No you don't." He grins at you, inciting the urge to bite down on his smirking lips until you taste blood on your tongue. "Answer the question."
With a long pull on the bottle for courage, you figure, 'what the hell?' "Lesbian, mostly. It's hotter, they actually know what they're doing."
Jake's mouth drops open as though he is slightly astounded and a small noise sounds out of him that makes your stomach flutter. "That's fucking hot, princess. Maybe you're not as uptight as I thought."
He adjusts his position to the side a bit until his leg is blocking your view of his crotch. Coincidence? Or is he hiding an unwelcome erection? You shouldn't be as curious as you feel, but it can't be helped.
You offer him a small, conspiring smile, letting him know you're on to what might be happening in his lap "What about you, pervert?"
"Lesbian for me too, no contest." he answers without hesitation.
"The classic girl on girl threesome fantasy, no doubt." you shake your head in disgust "Guys are so predictable."
He gestures for the bottle and takes a guzzling drink without so much as a wince when you hand it over. "Who said anything about a threesome? The girl on girl stuff just focuses on oral more...and I like to eat pussy."
"Jesus, Jake!" you flinch as though he's been inappropriate, as though you don't like it, as though you aren't enjoying the mounting ache between your thighs.
"What?" he shrugs. "It's the truth. Do you like it?"
"Eating pussy?" You raise your eyebrows, borrowing his phrasing for shock value. "Maybe? I can't say for sure though, I've never done it."
"No. I mean do you like receiving." he corrects. "But goddamn, doll. Thank you for the visual."
"One for the old spank bank?"
You intend it to sound snarky, but he remains coolly unbothered. "Maybe so. 'Course it wouldn't be your first appearance there, though."
You get the impression he has revealed this to garner a reaction. It works.
"Really?" You can hear the frustrating intrigue in your tone, and pray that he can't. "Care to share?"
"Huh-uh." he points over at you, signaling that he won't be letting you slide that easily. "I asked you a question, answer it."
Your heartbeat thrums with a touch more frenzy due to the way he has spoken to you. You have never been one to enjoy authority being lorded over you, but the way he just ordered you to answer him has you wishing you were alone so you could make the pulsing ache between your legs go away.
"What was the question?" you sound quieter than you had intended, breathy even, like you're trying to sound seductive. Far from it though, and you want to find a way to tell him that.
'I'm not trying to be sexy, you're just turning me on to a painful degree and you should leave the room before I fall at your feet and ask you to show me what that hate-fucking you were talking about earlier is like.' Yeah, you roll your eyes internally, wouldn't that be smooth and not at all humiliating?
"Do you like receiving?" he reiterates, eyebrows raised as he brings the bottle up to his lips.
"Oh," you watch as his tongue makes the briefest appearance, the tip barely gracing the rim of the bottle before his lips wrap around it. Did he do that purposely? "Yes." you're surprised to hear yourself answer so honestly, so readily. "I love it. It's been forever, though. It's the only way I can get off...with a partner anyway." Why throw that in? You could blame the whiskey, but you know that isn't it.
He watches you silently, and without subtly for a long stretch, and finally leans forward, extending the bottle. He pulls his trusty silver tin out of his back pocket, preparing a small blunt while you watch and sip. "Why's it been forever? What about that one guy? Dude who called you dear like you two were 76 years old? That wasn't that long ago."
"Aaron." you can't help but stare when he drags his tongue along the blunt to seal it. "He wasn't into that."
"Wasn't into that?" He sounds inexplicably annoyed. "But didn't you just say that's the only way you can cum?"
Fuck. The way he words things so boldly without the slightest hint of shame is indescribably sexy.
You avert your eyes in lieu of an actual response, mainly because your throat is so dry you doubt you could make a sound.
"Well that's a fuckin' shame, princess." he smiles, understanding your silence. He flicks his lighter and holds it to the tip of the blunt, drawing steadily to get it going until his chest expands heavily, lungs filled to capacity with the sweet smoke. "Never made you cum?" he rasps, holding the hit in. "Not even once?"
You shrug and force yourself to maintain his stare. You won't be the first to look away.
"Nope. But I asked you a question too...you said I've popped up in your spank bank. You gonna tell me about that or are you too much of a chicken shit?"
A laugh shakes his shoulders as he offers you the blunt. "Alright, alright...Sammy's birthday party, the one our parents threw for his 18th?"
You nod for him to continue, forcing yourself to seem casual, as if you don't really care. Incidentally, why do you care so much?
"You had this lipgloss on. It was barely there, but it would catch the light every now and then." he shrugs. "I wanted to kiss you — amongst other things." He stares off with the wisp of a smile on his lips, as if reliving the moment.
You hadn't expected it to be so...intimate.
"Oh, and when you're being particularly hateful towards me, I have this fantasy where I slam you up against a wall and give it to you until you learn how to shut your fucking mouth. If that's more along the lines of what you were looking for."
"I..." One word is all you seem to be able to manage. Actually, one letter, to be more specific.
“Well look at you, princess. You like that?" He hums softly. "Don't worry, I like it too."
Shaking it off, you do a half-assed job of collecting your wits. "Just surprised is all. I thought you hated me."
"Hate's an awfully strong word." he corrects, flicking the ashes from the blunt he is once again in possession of into his abandoned glass. "You irritate the shit outta me, but I already told you, I don't hate you."
"What a charming sentiment, prince asshole." his admission stings, though it shouldn't. You know this. You've always known this.
He holds his hands up in a 'what're you gonna do' fashion. "What about me? Have I ever held a place of honor in whatever the feminine equivalent to a spank bank is?"
A genuine laugh trills out of you.
"What?" he laughs too. "I just always picture girls like, surrounded by candles in a bubble bath or something. Making a night of it."
"Not quite. Sometimes, not always. But yeah," you confess. He was honest, why shouldn't you be? "Once or twice."
Pinching the blunt out he leans forward. "Oh, do tell, princess." When he slides closer to the edge of his seat he gives you a mischievous grin, giving up on concealing the massive erection he is sporting.
"A couple years back, I stayed over because we drank too much. You were seeing that girl, the one who was obsessed with turquoise jewelry?"
He nods his understanding but doesn't fill in the blank where you have forgotten her name.
"I slept in Sammy's room because he insisted on taking the couch."
"A gentleman and a scholar..." he jokes.
You find yourself feeling shy out of the blue, possibly because he's just made such a normal 'jake' remark. But he twirls his hand, a silent signal for you to go on, and you comply.
"I heard you...” you clear your throat, stalling to call upon your liquid courage reserves. “I heard you fucking her. I tried not to listen, but I couldn't help myself. At first I thought you were just fucking her, you know, like normally—but then you said something to her and I realized you were going down on her..."
"What did I say to her, princess? Tell me what you heard." His eyes are hooded and more intense than you have ever seen them.
"You told her to cum." a short gasp escapes you followed by a sharp intake of breath. God, have you ever been this fucking hot before? "You told her to cum all over your face."
"And?" He whispers, sounding breathless.
You can't bear eye contact any longer, but also, you cannot fathom looking away. "And, I wanted it to be me. I wanted to be the one in there with you, the girl in your bed with your face between her legs."
"Fuck me." he groans quietly.
The room falls silent and you curse the heat rising to your cheeks. You know your face is burning red, betraying your embarrassment as well as your desire.
"How drunk are you?" he questions, at last breaking the tense quiet.
"I feel very sober at the moment." You breathe truthfully, watching his chest rise and fall deeply.
Suddenly, his boot darts out and kicks the coffee table away, clearing a path between the two of you. "Come here."
It isn't a request, and you're glad for that. It doesn't leave any room for you to overthink.
His eyes are wild and dilated when you find yourself standing before him. They ignite something primal and feral within you. You want to feel this way forever. You feel alive, as if you've been introduced to the real you. Hello, I've heard so much about you....
His fingers dip into the waist of your leggings, just a bit, teasing over your quivering stomach "May I?"
You nod, biting down on your bottom lip as your palms find his shoulders for leverage. He drags the fabric down your thighs slowly and then helps you step out. Leaving you in your threadbare fitted tee and panties. They're so plain. Just simple, white cotton bikinis and you can't even recall what bra you have on, but you can feel how comfortable it is and that isn't a good sign. You hate it to a sickening degree.
However, Jake doesn't seem to mind. His eyes are raking over your center with unmasked fervor. "Sit down for me, kitten." he runs his fingers along his denim-clad thigh until you spread your legs and have a seat.
"Kitten?" you sigh, pressing yourself against the warm, strong, muscle of his thigh. You're teasing him about it, but you think it's incredibly hot.
"What can I say?" his hands drop to your hips, cajoling you to rub yourself against him a little harder "You've got me thinking about your pussy. Kitten seemed fitting."
For a moment, you slip into a stunned state of shock. What the hell is even happening? This doesn't feel real. This is Jake, you've known him nearly your whole life. You two can barely stand to be in the same room together and yet...
"That's it, princess." he praises, pulling you out of your head "You look so sweet riding my thigh in your little panties. I can feel how hot you are, how wet. You like this, don’t you?"
"Yeah." you moan, nodding frantically as he presses up into your tingling cunt.
"You'd let me fuck you right now, wouldn't you?" his hands are now slowly drifting up your shirt, stopping just before your breasts before descending, over and over.
"Even though I haven't sucked your pretty cunt yet, and you say that's the only way you can cum." he continues when you promise that yes, you'd let him fuck you right now. "That's your problem. You concern yourself with pleasing too much, what about you, princess? Who pleases you?" His hands trail up and down, up and down, ignoring your nipples as they strain against your bra, screaming out for attention.
"I can please myself, thank you." You feel defiant, despite the fact that you just happen to be fucking yourself against his leg shamelessly.
"Oh, I don't doubt that at all." he grins up at you "But why? I'm right here. These gorgeous tits of yours, for instance, you think I can't tell how badly you want me to touch them? Why don't you just tell me what you need?" He leans forward and licks at your nipple through your shirt "I just want to make you feel good, just wanna make you cum."
You moan his name, ripping your shirt and bra up over your head together. It feels natural to cry out to him, it feels like this isn't the first time. "Suck them." you order gently when your breasts are bare and waiting for him.
His mouth is sweeter than you could have ever dreamed. Gentle one moment, lapping away at your pebbled peaks of flesh, dragging his teeth along your sensitive areola the next. Suckling and kissing away at them until you are arching your back into his face and grinding down onto his thigh, chasing a high you've never felt before. You aren't working towards an end, but you feel untouchable all the same.
"Are you gonna cum for me, princess?" he rasps, teeth clenched around your swollen left nipple.
"No." Your response is little more than a sigh of unrivaled pleasure "But I already told you, I just can't cum any other way. Don't stop though, everything feels so fucking good."
Either he isn't paying attention, or he just doesn't care that you've asked him not to stop — regardless, you find yourself being lifted off his leg and swung around until your back lands against the cushions of the couch he's carried you over to.
You expect him to drop to his knees to lick you...to make you cum so he can get on with things, men are always so impatient to get to the actual fucking. But instead, he leans back and looks you over, his gaze roaming slowly between your thighs.
"I love that your panties are white," he smiles, looking, but not touching "You've soaked them, I can see right through...so pretty, doll.”
"Jake..."
"Hmm?" he sounds far away, like he's a little lost in you.
“What're you doing?" you feel on display and self conscious.
"I'm looking at you, princess." his thumbs move forward and circle over the waistband of your underwear. "You’re the prettiest little thing." His gaze lifts to yours, proving he isn't just talking about the pretty places on your body he would like to fuck.
"I'm going to make you cum..." he promises gently "But not with my mouth, not yet. Lie back and relax."
"I told you," you start, actually feeling a flash of annoyance. You don't want to see the look of defeat on his face when he finally gives up.
"Shh..." he counters. "Just lie back and let me love on you for a little while. Are you my pretty little doll?”
You nod and catch your bottom lip between your teeth. If you’d known Jake would touch you and talk to you this way, you’d have thrown yourself at his feet years ago.
His eyes remain locked in on your face as he begins stroking light circles around your clit through the cotton barring his actual touch.
"You're soaked and that gorgeous clit is so swollen I can see it peeking out. Do you like it when I touch you where you're all pink and wet?"
"I love it." you stroke circles on your nipples in time with his fingers "I want to feel your mouth there."
"You will." he nods, dipping the middle finger of his free hand into your panties and into your warmth.
"Fuck yes, Jake..." you pant, moaning out like a wanton whore. A second finger joins the first, pressing upward carefully until he finds that secret spot hidden away inside of you.
"That's it right there, isn't it, princess?" he dips down and kisses your neck as his hand begins fucking you with slow curling strokes of perfection.
"Mmm..." you moan, clutching his forearms. Yes, that is most definitely the spot, only ever found and catered to by the curved vibrator – the one designed specifically for this purpose – you have back home, hidden in the back of your nightstand.
He works you with a slow, but firm hand. Murmuring intoxicatingly obscene things into your ear, and gentle coaxing praises in contrast until your vision is growing feathery around the edges, an orgasm lingering like blurring waves of heat on the horizon, a mirage of pleasure coming for you.
"Oh god, Jake..." you can feel your brows threading together as a delicious heat begins to rise in your belly "I think I'm going to cum."
"Don't think..." he murmurs, kissing your cheek. “Just let it come to you, princess. It’ll find you, I promise.”
Your eyes screw shut in concentration, focusing on his fingers inside you pressing and pushing, curling up and into your g-spot, guiding you like a beacon in the dark. He feels so good, and so tangible...a source of pleasure that breathes and bleeds and feels, no one has ever made you feel so undone. You didn't even know it was really possible.
The waters of bliss lap over you gently, pulling you out to a warm sea of pink, floral water...he is all around you, he is absolutely living and breathing inside you. It’s so soft and gentle...but, without warning, it strong-holds you. Takes you by the throat with magnificently tender force. Feel what he has done to you, it directs. Stay here, with him, forever. This is where you belong.
"That's right, princess. Good girl..." his tone is choked with awe. "You are so, so, fucking pretty when you cum. I almost feel bad for him that he never got the chance to see...almost."
"Jake..." you're moaning and writhing still, no matter that the remnants of your orgasm have faded. "Tell me I'm a good girl again." The instant you say it you look away timidly, you hadn't even meant for it to come out. You've never before wanted to please anyone the way you want to please him.
"You are, doll..." he pets your hair and smoothes his fingers down your cheek "You're such a good girl, letting me make you cum. Relaxing and letting go so well. You're my good girl, you're good just for me."
"Can I have your mouth now?" you venture quietly. "I wanted to be her so badly that night..."
"So tell me." he pulls your panties down and tosses them aside. "Tell me what you heard me doing, what you wanted."
His mouth is playing over your thighs gently, kissing and nipping his way closer to your soaked pussy, but taking his sweet time.
"I couldn't hear you at first..." a moan disrupts you when his tongue curls into the side of your clit. "Just her. And she sounded, mmm, fuck—she sounded like your mouth was the most sensual thing that had ever blessed her body. I wanted it, fuck I wanted it so badly."
Please..." you beg when his lips move to press light kisses into your folds.
"Talk to me, princess." he whispers so close to your center you can feel his lips move as he forms the words "Tell me what you heard me giving her cunt instead of yours."
Jesus fucking god.
"She just kept getting louder and louder, I knew you were about to make her cum. I wanted it too much, I had to touch myself. I shouldn't have..."
"Why shouldn't you have? There was no one there to see." his mouth drops delicately to find your entrance. He places an open-mouthed kiss there. "You think way too much."
Without waiting for a reply, his lips and tongue begin working your soaked center without mercy. His mouth is a fucking marvel...every kiss of his lips and stroke of his tongue unlaces you a little more until you are bucking up into his mouth, fucking his face, desperate to cum all over him just like he'd asked his obnoxious little girlfriend to.
"Cum in my mouth, princess." he whimpers the order into your cunt "Not on my face, in my mouth...I don't want to waste a fucking drop of you, cum right in my mouth...come on."
His filthy guidance is all you need to fall apart. His groans of appreciation hum into you, vibrating straight into your soul as you cum hard and fast, begging him to stop and to never stop at the same time.
Jake finally pulls back when your shaking thighs are clenched tightly around his head as you whine and struggle away from his soft, searching mouth.
He kicks his boots off and tugs his pants away, leaving him in nothing but his black boxer briefs and a dangling necklace spinning about at his sternum.
“God, you're fucking beautiful." you whisper, wishing you could just look at him like this for the rest of your life..
His sheepish smile surprises you, he's always so sure of himself, it seems. Even so, or maybe to mask his vulnerability, his brings your hand to press into the hard length of him still hidden away.
“Can I see it?" you ask meekly "I bet it's as pretty as the rest of you."
He nods and you eagerly tugs his boxer briefs down. His cock springs free and slaps against his belly, just as beautiful as you had imagined. Bigger, too. But not frighteningly so...fuck, you want it so badly.
You begin peppering kisses up and down the exposed length of him, intermittently introducing the tip of your tongue to join the fun. "Fuck me with this beautiful cock, Jake. I've never seen one so pretty. I'd wear a picture of it in a locket around my neck."
Where had that come from? You're unsure, but you know it is, without a doubt, the absolute truth.
"You wanna wear a picture of my cock around your neck?" it sounds so outlandish and stupid, but fuck if it isn't the truth. "That's the sexiest thing I've ever heard...where the fuck have you been all this time, princess?"
"I'm here now." you point out, sucking the head gingerly "Fucking give it to me."
With a gasp of confused shock, you find your body flush against the couch, breasts pressing flat into the rough, worn upholstery of the cushions.
"Give what to you, doll?" Jake's mouth moves against your ear as his body presses you down further, covering you like an explicit weighted blanket. "My cock? Do you want to feel it inside? Do you want to fuck?"
"Yes..." you beg, squirming against his hold on you, but not at all fighting it. You wish he would never let go.
"Are you gonna behave and cum again for me?" his dick has begun slipping through your soaked folds from behind rhythmically, while his mouth sucks and bites a path over your neck. "I want you to be such a good girl for me, princess. I know you can do it."
"Jake," you don't recognize your own voice "I just can't...you don't know how much I wish..."
"Come on, kitten," he interrupts. "Give me one more. C'mon baby, one more time. Wanna feel you cum around my cock..."
He drives into you hard and fast, groaning when a long, loud call of his name bursts forth from your parted lips.
"You're so warm, princess..." his fingers tangle gently in your hair, sweeping through the locks lovingly "You feel so fucking nice wrapped up tight and sweet around my dick."
He begins with a slow, yet forceful pace. Fucking himself into you deep, pushing his way in to the hilt, before dragging back out as you clench down, fighting to keep him inside.
"You feel so good, Jake..." you tilt your face back, searching for his mouth with your own until he closes the space with a hungry kiss "Fuck me until you can't hold back any longer. I want to feel you cum inside me. Please!”
"Begging for my cum..." he gasps, hips faltering, losing his rhythm for a split second. "I can't wait to watch it spill out of your beautiful little cunt."
The thought alone might have been enough to unravel you, but listening to him talk about watching his cum leak out of you shoves you over the edge of the orgasm you've been circling. "Fuck..." you gasp, sinking your nails into his forearms braced on either side of you. "I'm gonna cum, Jake...I'm...oh god...."
"I know, princess...I can feel it. I can feel all of it."
You know what he means, you're fluttering and squeezing, quivering and clenching down around his cock, pulling him in deeper, refusing to let him go.
And now, you can feel his orgasm taking hold as well. He swells and bursts inside you, flooding you with warmth as his beautiful nonsensical groans and quiet moans of your name drag you under like the most lovely drug you can imagine.
If you were forced to choose a solitary moment to describe why we are here, how beautiful life can really be, what love is...this would be it. This moment right here. This is everything. This beautiful euphoric connection with another soul, no matter how fleeting.
You stumble back to the here and now together, panting and clutching at one another’s hot, damp skin.
He finds his voice first, and shocks you with it. “It’s never been like that for me with anyone else, ever. That was....” he loses his way and falls silent.
“Me either.” You breathe, sounding less than eloquent.
When he pulls you up to stretch out on the couch in his arms, you find yourself comfortable in the strangest way, as if you’ve spent your entire life nestled in his arms.
Summary: You and Sam have been friends for years, but something has always lingered beneath the surface. It takes one Hozier song and a lot of pent-up tension to realize that you both feel the same way.
Heavily inspired by both this photo of Sammy and the song Talk by Hozier, but very lightly edited. Mostly just pure self-indulgent filth, I'm sorry
Warnings: cheating (oopsie), unprotected sex (I'm terrible at this so if it needs other warnings, someone pls tell me)
Your phone started vibrating in the cup holder as you pulled onto Sam's new street. You reached your thumb across the steering wheel to press the Bluetooth button before slowing down to read the address numbers neatly printed across the mailboxes out your tinted windows.
"Helloooooooooo?" You drew the word out, eyes still scanning for the house number that Sam had texted you hours earlier.
"Hey kid," Sam's raspy voice rang out through your car speakers, making you smile. "How far away are ya?"
"Hmmmm, about 10 houses," you answered, unexplained anticipation building like a lump in the back of your throat.
"Perrrrrrfect," he drawled. "I'm in the backyard, so just come through the gate at the side when you get here. Rose, get away from that!"
You heard a clatter in the background, before you heard Sam's quiet "fuck" come across the phone line. You giggled to yourself, surmising that the bouncy puppy had knocked something over.
"Gotta go. See you in a minute, kid." Sam hung up on the call before you could get another word out. It didn't matter, you were pulling into his lengthy driveway anyways. As tall pines surrounded the car on both sides, you thought about the situation you were heading into.
You and Sam had been friends for a few years. What started as acquaintances quickly blossomed into friendship when you realized how much you had in common - you had started cutting your teeth in Nashville as the administrative assistant to the head of Sam's record label, so you were often around the offices during meetings and the studio during recording sessions. As the months passed, and you memorized the guys' coffee orders, you had begun to build favour with the four of them. Sam had taken a particular liking to you during one of the label's industry dinners, picking your brain about music and movies and everything in between. The two of you had a friendship that couldn't be explained to anyone but you, and you had learned to ignore teasing comments from the other guys long ago. Your boyfriend, and Sam's girlfriend, were far less immune to the sensitivity of the other boys' teasing - your boyfriend didn't particularly care for Sam, and Sam's girlfriend didn't really care for you. You had tried to hang out as a foursome multiple times, but it usually ended with you and Sam in a conversation that the other two just couldn't relate or contribute to.
So, much to their dismay, you and Sam had resorted to hanging out every once in a while without the two of them. It made for awkward nights when you returned home to your boyfriend, but you knew that you had nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing had ever happened with Sam, and you were certain that nothing ever would. Your miniscule crush on Sam was suppressed into the deepest depths of your soul, because you were certain that he would never feel the same way. And there was no point in ruining your friendship, or your current relationship, for something that would never happen.
All of this is what brought you to the top of Sam's new driveway, bottle of wine and housewarming gift on the backseat, ready for a night to just hang out and exist together.
You gathered all of your items from the car before stepping out and grabbing your packages from the backseat. The car door slamming shut alerted Rose to your presence, and she started barking from the backyard.
You wandered towards the sound at the side gate that Sam had mentioned, taking in the beauty of his new house as you walked. The house had a rustic quality to it, and it definitely looked like it belonged in the woodland neighborhood. Sam had moved out of the hectic rush of Nashville's east side, and had chosen to settle about 30 minutes out of the city in a spot closer to the Tennessee mountains. The new property definitely seemed to be more his style, laid back and surrounded by nature just as you always pictured him to be.
You reached the gate, shuffling the items in your arms until you freed one of your hands to unlatch it. You were greeted by a bouncy puppy, smiling as you reached down to pat the top of Rose's head. She pranced next to you excitedly while you walked further into the yard, spotting Sam across from the inground swimming pool. He was kneeling on the stone patio, leaning back so that he was almost sitting on his bare feet. Spread out in front of him was an array of soils, plant pots, and orchids. He looked up when you approached, giving you a coy smile and making the effort to stand to his feet.
"Well, well, look who it is..." His smile spread across his face even bigger when you slid your sunglasses up into your hair like a headband. Sam walked closer to you, reaching out to take the items from your arms. You were suddenly glad that you had so many things to carry - it meant that there was a buffer in between you and Sam for the time being. You always felt awkward meeting up with him or saying goodbye when you had nothing in your hands... the two of you made a subconscious effort never to let physical touch linger too long, and you had never once hugged Sam in the years that you had been close friends. It was part of the reason why you felt your crush was not reciprocated - the man in front of you now clearly wanted nothing to do with touching you in any capacity.
Your mind brought you back to the present before you could spiral too far, and you turned to follow Sam as he walked towards the back door of the house. You spotted a broken terra cotta pot on the table next to the door.
"Is that what Rose broke?" You asked, pointing to the table.
Sam just laughed. "You heard that, huh?" You nodded, catching Sam's eye while he opened the door. "Yeah, she's a menace..."
Sam trailed off as you both entered his new space. Spread out in front of you was a sizeable kitchen, complete with a tiled island in the centre and a double oven on the far wall.
"Holy shit, Sammy," you lamented as you took in the room. He was smiling while he placed the items you had brought on the counter, turning around to put the bottle of wine in the fridge. "This is incredible!"
"You think so?" He asked, suddenly appearing self conscious. "I mean, it's been such a big change and I'm so happy, but.... sometimes I wonder if I made the right decision by moving out here."
"I think it's amazing," you answered honestly. "It's so peaceful, and just so... you."
He smiled so big at your statement that it showed off all his teeth, his plump lips pulling back in the most beautiful way. You cleared your throat and gestured towards the doorway that led to the rest of the house.
"But I want the full tour," you prompted, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach from the way that Sam's eyes were studying you. He did this sometimes when the two of you would hang out - studying your every movement, down to the twitch of your nose or the slight crinkle between your eyebrows when you realized what he was doing. It felt like he was trying to decipher your deepest secrets, and there were definitely thoughts within your brain that you didn't want him to clue into. You had reached a careful balance of thoughts and actions over the years of being his friend, and the only time you felt the facade crack a little bit were times when he studied you like this.
You blushed under his intense gaze, reaching out to tuck a stray peice of hair behind your ear at the same time. This movement seemed to break his trance, and he suddenly remembered who he was and what you were doing.
"A tour, right! Follow me, I'll give you the grand tour..." Sam trailed off as he started walking out the kitchen doorway, reaching up to touch his fingertips to the door frame on his way out.
He gestured wildly as he toured you through the rest of the raised bungalow, taking you through the hallway that separated the bathroom and three bedrooms from the main space. One of the bedrooms was being used for art supplies and paintings, and another was being used for music equipment and instruments. He passed by the third bedroom door casually, raising a hand as we walked by.
"This is the master bedroom, where the magic happens, yada yada yada..." he trailed off, trying to remain nonchalant while he watched you peek your head through the doorframe. The room held the glow of the late afternoon sun, and the king bed that rested in the center was covered in dark green bedding and orange pillows. A mid century modern dresser stood against the far wall, with a framed picture of Rose on top next to an intense looking speaker system.
You ducked your head back out of the doorframe and turned your attention back to Sam in the hallway. "Wow, your room is very zen," you remarked, carrying on down the hall.
"Thanks... that means a lot, coming from the 'zen queen'," he joked. "The only thing I'm really missing from the old place is my plants," he continued, "but that's what I was starting to work on when you showed up."
"Well don't let me keep you from your important planting," you jested. "I'm sure I could find something else to do with my night if you want to continue..."
The hurt look that flashed across Sam's face at your comment caught you off guard briefly, but he quickly recovered.
"Actually, I was waiting for someone to show up cause I need some help. So I'm going to put you to work," he smiled. "Consider it repayment for the big fancy dinner I'm going to cook you later."
"It doesn't count as repayment if you haven't cooked the dinner yet, Sammy."
"Fine, prepayment, whatever..." he rolled his eyes as the two of you bickered your way back to the kitchen. He continued walking back to the door that led to the backyard, while you stopped next to the island.
"Want to get some wine poured while I run outside and grab something?" He asked, pointing to the cupboard next to the fridge. "Glasses are in there, and the opener is in the drawer above the dishwasher. I'll be right back." He gave a mock salute before slipping out the door.
You got to work on pulling wine glasses out of the cupboard Sam had pointed out, retrieving the bottle of wine you had brought from the fridge and twisting the top off. You poured two generous glasses, taking a sip from one while you watched Sam open the back door again. He was carrying a mess of rope and plant pots, placing everything on the tiled counter of the island before reaching for his wine glass. He hummed to himself, glancing over to where the bottle rested on the counter.
"You didn't need the opener?" He asked, swishing the wine around before taking a small sip.
"Sam." You leveled him with a look. "I learned my lesson with bottle corks years ago, remember? I've been using twist-offs ever since."
"Right, right, how could I ever forget?" He chuckled to himself, no doubt lost in the memory of you trying and failing to get the cork out of a wine bottle and smashing the whole thing on the middle of your kitchen floor. It had been a party at your apartment, and that spill had led to a days long argument with your boyfriend. He thought you had done it on purpose for attention. Sam had been the one to run to your pantry for extra paper towels, carefully bagging the broken glass and walking it out to the apartment building's dumpster before returning to the party. His girlfriend had watched the interaction with shifty eyes, but you were just thankful that he had taken over the cleaning. Your hands had been shaking too badly to risk having anywhere near the broken glass.
Sam took a longer sip of his wine, trying to clear the mildly unpleasant memory, and gestured to the materials he had brought in from outside.
"So I have these macrame plant holders," he started, "and I want to hang them in front of the kitchen windows. But I think it's a two person job, cause someone needs to hold them up while the other person drills the hooks into the ceiling."
You nodded as he spoke, following along with his plans. "Whatever you need, Sammy boy," you hummed, grabbing a macrame rope from the counter. He went to fetch the drill while you dragged a kitchen chair over to the first window frame.
"I think if you stand on the chair and hold up the hook, I can reach it with the drill since, ya know, I'm taller." He gave you a smirk.
"Congratutions on being tall," you rolled your eyes. "Can't relate," you added.
"I know you can't," he smiled down at you smugly, pressing the drill's button and whirring the machine in his hand while stepping closer to you.
You took steps backwards as he took slow steps forwards, until the backs of your legs hit the kitchen chair you had placed by the window pane. Sam held eye contact with you as you swallowed the nervous lump in your throat. Suddenly, he reached his free hand out to hold in front of you. You took it slowly, stepping up so that you were standing on the kitchen chair. You reluctantly let go of his hand once you were steady, wishing that you could have lingered longer with his touch on yours.
In your new positions, Sam's face rested at the height of your sternum. He reached up easily with the drill, to the place where he wanted the plant holder to hang from, and started making a preliminary hole. You watched his careful hands as they smoothed away the excess drywall dust, moving out of the way for you to reach up with the hook. You attached it into the ceiling, twisting the screwed end in to secure it and actively trying to ignore the way that you could feel Sam's exhaling breath landing on your slightly exposed chest. The closeness of his breathing made you wobble on the chair, losing your balance only slightly before Sam's free hand reached out to your hip in an effort to steady you.
"Careful," he rasped, watching you turn the screw the last couple of times before removing your hands from the ceiling. His eyes met yours when you brought your hands down to your sides, snatching his own hand away from your body as if it had touched an open flame.
"You good?" He asked, reaching out a hand for you to hop down from the chair. You just nodded, letting your feet hit the floor again and dragging the chair over to the next window opening in order to repeat the process.
The two of you worked in silent tandem, repeating the movements twice more to cover off all of the windows in Sam's new kitchen. When the last macrame holder was screwed in, you dragged the chair back to the table in the breakfast nook while Sam retrieved the potted plants from where he had left them on the island. You watched silently as he maneuvered the pots into the holders, adjusting the plants so that their leaves hung down between the ropes.
When he reached up to do the second plant pot, you realized that his black button up shirt had ridden up towards his belly button. A light dusting of hair trailed over his tanned skin and led into the confines of his pants, making you blush and turn away to your wineglass. You gave your head a slight shake to ward away the thoughts you were having about your friend - you tried to turn your mind to your boyfriend, wondering what he was doing at home right now. The problem was, you didn't really care.
"There," Sam proclaimed as he finished fluffing the leaves on the last plant. "That feels a little more like home to me." He smiled at your handiwork, and then turned to smile at you.
"Looks great," you agreed, nodding into your wine glass as you pushed it to your lips once again. Your cheeks were starting to feel flushed - you'd downed a fair bit of the alcohol while waiting for Sam to finish adjusting the plants.
"You know what would make it feel even more like home, I bet?" You asked, raising your eyebrows in Sam's direction.
"This will be good," he deadpanned in return.
"A record! You do have your player hooked up already, don't you?" Your eyes betrayed your excitement - Sam had the best record collection of anyone you'd ever met.
"Uhhh, duh!" came Sam's response, grabbing his wine off of the counter and waving a hand behind him for you to follow into the living room.
You settled onto Sam's pink velvet couch, the numerous throw pillows instantly engulfing you and making you sink into the cushions. You placed your wine glass on the coffee table in front of you while you took in the room in more detail than you'd been able to on your brief tour earlier.
The room was large, easily accounting for Sam's piano that stood in the corner. Across from the couch was a fireplace, a large screen TV hanging above it. The left side of the room is where Sam stood in front of a vintage looking sideboard. The cupboard of the unit stood open, and Sam was shuffling through the extensive record collection hidden inside. His record player stood proudly on the top of the walnut coloured piece of furniture.
While he searched for the perfect album, you took another sweeping look across the room. You noticed that the only photos in frames were of Rose and Sam's family. The only knick knacks around the space were the ones that Sam had brought home from touring the world. Your breath caught as you made the realization - you had yet to see anything belonging to Sam's girlfriend in his new house. On the one hand, it was his house... so it made sense that all the items would be his. On the other hand, they had been together for years at this point... you thought for sure that there would be some items of hers laying around, or at least some photos of them in the frames around the room.
"Uhhh, Sammy?" You started, stomach turning over as you anticipated asking a dumb question.
"Whats up?" He responded casually, finally choosing a record and flipping the cover over between his long fingers. He dumped the record out of the sleeve into his hand, placing it deftly on the turntable and dropping the needle onto the edge. You watched in a quiet trance as the beginning notes of Hozier's Wasteland Baby album began to play.
Sam turned around to you with his eyebrows raised, silently wondering if you were going to continue.
"It's just..." you didn't know how to phrase the question you wanted to ask. "I don't see any of Kayley's stuff around here. Or any pictures of you guys. Did I miss something?"
Sam huffed a small breath through his nostrils, settling into the couch beside you.
"I mean, we broke up if that's what you're asking."
You felt a jolt of electric energy shoot through you as you processed his words.
"What? When? We were with you guys like a month ago and everything seemed fine!" You blurted out, trying to process the new information.
"Okay, that was over a month ago, thank you very much," Sam mumbled. You threw him a look in response. "We just... we were on different pages. She assumed that me moving here meant that she was moving in, and I just... I wanted space. When I set her straight on the fact that she wasn't moving in here with me, she suggested that we see other people." He cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "Actually, she suggested that I see you instead."
Your mouth popped open in shock as you struggled to regulate your breathing. "Why on earth would she suggest that?" You mumbled, already knowing the answer. People had teased you and Sam about your natural chemistry for years. But it didn't matter, you had a boyfriend that you lived with and had loved for years. You loved him, right? Yes, you reminded yourself. Yes you did. At one point. But did you still? It didn't matter. Just because Sam suddenly found himself single didn't mean that he wanted to be with you. He hadn't ended his relationship. He would have still been with her, willingly, if she hadn't broken up with him.
All of these thoughts tumbled through your head as you and Sam maintained eye contact across the couch. He was studying you closely again, trying to peer into the depths of your thoughts and monitoring any twitch of movement on your face. The weight of his gaze was intense, and you were the first to look away.
You leaned forward to pick up your wine, taking a big gulp before setting the glass back down on the table. "Well I'm sorry to hear that, Sammy. I know how much you cared about her."
"That's true," he hummed. "I did care about her. But did I love her? I'm not sure."
You stared down at your hands, wracking your brain for something to say in return.
"Oh well, it's probably for the best," Sam continued with a sigh. "She was never really supportive of our friendship anyways. And she couldn't accept the fact that you aren't going anywhere. You're in my life for good, kid. I hope you realize that."
You glanced up, meeting the intensity of Sam's brown eyes while he took a big sip from his own wine glass.
"Trevor doesn't like it when we hang out either," you responded. "I'm pretty sure he thinks something is going on between us." You rolled your eyes at the absurdity of the assumption.
Sam let out a chuckle beside you. "I kind of gathered that," he laughed. "That dude looks like he wants to beat the shit out of me every chance that he gets."
You smiled too at that, knowing that Sam was only partially joking, and leaned back further into the plush pillows of the couch. The soft sounds of Hozier floated over you as you let your eyes close for a second.
"Sammy, these speakers are amazing," you mumbled out, eyes still closed.
"They're nice, huh? Want to see something cool?" You felt the couch shift beside you as Sam stood up, and when you opened your eyes he was standing in front of you holding an outstretched hand in your direction.
"I always want to see something cool," you replied with a smile, taking his hand and letting him pull you up from the comfort of the couch.
Sam kept a hold of your hand as he pulled you down the hallway that led to the bedrooms and the bathroom. He took a sharp turn into his bedroom, dropping your hand once you made it through the doorway and walking over to flick the power switch on the speakers that sat atop his dresser. The same Hozier song that was playing from the record in the living room boomed through the bedroom speakers.
"Holy shit, they're all connected?!" You asked excitedly. Sam just nodded at you, smiling at your reaction.
"Pretty cool, huh?"
"The coolest, Sammy. You're pretty much the coolest person I know," you smiled.
You sat down on the end of his bed as the final notes of Shrike played out through the speakers. Sam had been hovering near the dresser, but he slowly made his way over towards you while the first chords of Talk played out through the house.
You had spread your arms out behind you, propping yourself up on your hands while leaning back slightly to watch Sam as he approached. He stopped in front of you, stepping in between your slightly parted legs. His presence loomed over you in a way that made you short of breath. You held each other's stare as he took another small step forward, now crowding you slightly. You held your breath as the chorus of the song started.
I won't deny
I've got in my mind now
All the things i would do
So I'll try to talk refined
For fear that you'll find out
How I'm imaging you
As Hozier's words hung softly in the air around the two of you, Sam slowly brought his hand up to your face. He ran the pad of his thumb over your closed lips, catching slightly on the plumpness of your bottom one while he dragged his finger over it.
You swallowed thickly, leaning back even further and craning your neck up to maintain eye contact. The position allowed for your neck to be completely exposed, and the slow drag of Sam's hand followed the curve of it until his fingers lightly wrapped around your throat.
He leaned forward even more, making you almost horizontal on the bed, and whispered against your lips. "This song has always made me think of you."
It felt like fireworks were going off in your brain. What did he mean? Did he think of you in the way that you thought of him sometimes? Was he willing to risk your friendship for this? Were you willing to risk your relationship for this?
The alarm bells in your head were silenced by one simple thought that overrode all the others - you would go anywhere and do anything for this man in front of you, consequences be damned.
He brought your attention back to the present by lightly squeezing his fingers around your throat.
"Just say the word and I'll stop," he whispered, his breath fanning across your parted lips. "God, I need to know how you taste. You've been driving me insane for years..."
His voice trailed off as he leaned in impossibly closer to you, watching closely for the slight nod you gave before he finally covered your lips with his. He pressed himself further into you, letting go of your throat in favour of holding himself up with an arm extended next to your head. His lips parted slowly, inviting your tongue into his mouth and pushing back with his own to deepen the kiss.
Your moan was stifled against Sam's lips, but he seemed to take it as encouragement to kiss you even harder. You leaned back onto your elbows, eventually falling to your back as Sam drove you even further into the bed. Your hands skated their way up Sam's torso, pausing to undo the few buttons that had been done up on his shirt, and eventually they found their home in the hair at the base of Sam's neck. You gave a light tug to the strands, earning a deep groan from the man above you that vibrated against your lips. You couldn't help but smile against his kiss, making him pause and pull away from you for a moment.
"You have no idea how many times I've had to hold myself back from doing that," Sam admitted quietly, ducking down to brush his nose back and forth against yours a few times.
You smiled, adjusting yourself on the bed underneath him and lightly thrusting your hips into his. You could feel how hard he was already, even throught the layers of clothing separating you two.
He groaned again at your movements, reaching up to grasp your wrists before bringing them back down to pin against the bed above your head. He held you there for a moment, running his thumbs over the delicate skin on your wrists.
"Show me," you whispered. His eyebrows knitted together in silent question, not understanding what you meant. "Show me what else you've wanted to do to me," you clarified, daring him to make another move.
A devilish smirk appeared on his lips before he leaned down to nuzzle his lips into the skin between your neck and your ear. "As you wish," he mumbled.
Sam's lips began tracing a pathway from the side of your neck down to your sternum, pausing briefly to have you lift your shirt over your head. He began working back down, hovering his lips low on your hip bones while he shimmied your shorts down and off your legs. Lying beneath him in just your bra and panties for the first time, you didn't have time to be self conscious. He let out a shaky breath as he ran his hands delicately up your sides, taking his time feeling the smooth skin and admiring you in a way that he had never had the privilege of seeing.
His eyes traced up to your face while his hands made their way to your bra, keeping eye contact as he pulled the cups down to expose your nipples. They immediately pebbled in the cool air of the room, and Sam's glance down to them made him release a quiet whimper. He immediately leaned in, taking one into his mouth and suckling harshly. You let out a cry at the feeling, arching your back and tossing your head back into the mattress. Your hands reached down to hold the sides of Sam's head, holding him in place as he continued running his mouth around your chest.
He released the first nipple with a pop, and made his way over to the other side to repeat the process. His movements were quickly reducing you to a whimpering mess beneath him.
You arched your back again, bringing one hand down from the side of Sam's head to reach between you. You were desperate to feel him, desperate to make him feel as good as he was making you feel.
You slid your hand into the waistband of his linen pants, gliding over his smooth hips before wrapping a hand around his hard cock. As soon as you made contact, Sam's lips left your nipple and he rested his forehead on your sternum, breathing heavily.
"Fuck," he breathed out, trying to control himself.
"Is this what you always thought it would feel like?" You whispered into his hair, sliding your hand back and forth lightly. You collected a bead of precum from the tip, running your thumb along the underside and silently marveling at how big he was.
"Fuck no," he shook his head, lifting slightly to look down in between you at where your hand disappeared into his pants. "This is so much better." He looked up into your eyes, leaning forward to kiss you before continuing. "The amount of times I've jerked off and wished it was your touch..."
He trailed off as you smiled, somewhat proud that you weren't the only one pining in your friendship over the years.
"I've thought about you too," you admitted, continuing the slow movements of your hand.
Sam reached up to pinch your nipple lightly. "Hmmm," he mumbled, stumbling over his thoughts while your thumb ran around his tip again. "What did you think about?"
"Mostly how badly I wanted to feel you inside me," you blushed. "And I had a feeling you had a big cock."
"Oh my god," Sam sighed, dropping his forehead to rest on yours. "Are you gonna take it all?" He rasped, making you gasp and arch your back again as you nodded.
"Can I suck it first?" You whispered, biting your lip while you guaged his reaction. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, bringing a hand up to hold onto your throat again.
His thumb migrated over your chin and into your mouth, where you rolled your tongue over it and sucked softly. Sam drew in a shuddered breath, keeping his eyes locked to where his thumb disappeared into your mouth. You felt him throb in your hand, becoming impossibly harder.
"Fuck, as much as I would love that..." he spoke slowly and quietly, "I don't think I'll last very long. Next time," he whispered into the thick air between you. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the mention of doing this again.
You smiled around his thumb in your mouth before he withdrew it, drawing away from you completely and moving to stand above you at the end of the bed. The elastic of his waistband snapped against his tan skin as he stood, your hand slipping out of his pants in the process. He slowly stripped while he stared you down from his position at your feet, throwing his shirt, pants, and boxers off to the side of his room.
You brought your hand up to your mouth as you watched him, licking away the salty precum from your fingers. Your eyes closed briefly as you savored the taste of him and you let out a satisfied hum. From the end of the bed, you heard a groan that made you open your eyes.
You had a perfect view of Sam standing between your bent legs, his own hand working slowly over his cock.
"Holy fuck, kid," he whispered. "You like the way I taste?"
You nodded at him with heavily lidded eyes, grinning at the effect you were clearly having on him. Your hands trailed down your own body, enjoying the way that Sam's eyes were following every move, until they reached the elastic band at the top of your panties. You made a point to slide them down slowly over your legs, bending your knees at a ninety degree angle so that you could slide them off completely. You tossed them to the side of the room where they landed with the pile of clothing Sam had already created, and planted your feet flat on the bed. You let your legs fall open slightly, intentionally giving Sam a sneak peek of your pussy.
He let out another strained groan above you, shaking his head as he moved to wrap one hand around each of your ankles.
"I think you're trying to kill me," he said softly. Your giggle turned into a yelping sound as he yanked you closer towards the edge of the bed, using his grip on your ankles to fold your legs back. He leaned over your lower half, eyes stuck on the way that your pussy was spread out just for him.
"Keep your legs just like this," he ordered, trailing his hands up to your calves and then to your knees as he spread your legs even wider. He kept his hands over your knees as he leaned down closer to your center, letting a trail of spit dangle from his mouth to land on your pussy.
You clenched around nothing as his saliva landed on you, and Sam was studying your body closely enough that he caught the subtle movement.
"You like that?" he questioned, eyes briefly flickering up to meet yours. You nodded in response, swallowing audibly while your gaze followed Sam's right index finger moving towards your core.
You gasped and tossed your head back into the duvet as his finger rubbed a slow circle over your aching clit. Again, you clenched around nothing while your head lifted slightly to look at Sam.
"Please," you whimpered, trying to maintain your composure.
"Please what, baby?" Sam teased, keeping his touch light. "You want me to fill you up? What do you want, my fingers or my cock? Use your words, sweetheart."
You groaned at his words, lightly thrusting your hips up into his hand in an effort to gain more friction from his finger that was still slowly circling you.
"I don't care, Sammy," you whispered. "Please, just do something. You're driving me crazy..." The last part of your sentence left your lips on a whine, desperate for Sam to touch you.
"Shhhhh, baby, it's okay," he soothed, dragging his finger down towards your entrance. "You can have my fingers for now, baby. Got to make sure you're nice and stretched out for me..."
His voice trailed off into a groan when his index finger slipped into you. You cried out at the sensation, thrusting your hips upwards once again to draw him in further.
He slowly drew his finger out of you before plunging it back in, repeating the pattern until you were writhing underneath him and begging for more.
"You want another?" Sam questioned softly, eyes glued to the spot where his hand connected to your body.
"Please, Sammy," you whispered desperately.
"You sound so pretty like this," he mused, removing his finger and rubbing it over your clit before bringing two back down to your entrance. "Deep breath, baby girl. You're so tight, I don't want to hurt you..."
You followed his instructions and inhaled deeply, accepting the added intrusion with ease. His fingers curled into you as you clawed at the duvet, desperate for something to hold onto.
"Sammy," you moaned out on a whisper. "That's so good. So good..." You trailed off, closing your eyes and turning to bury your face into the bedding underneath you.
Your eyes were ripped open again as you felt another string of saliva land on your clit. You watched as Sam's free hand left its resting place on your knee and began rubbing over your core. The combined sensation of both of his hands working over you drove you closer to the edge, and you clenched down hard around his fingers.
"Think you can cum like this, baby?"
"Mhmm," you nodded, hands reaching to pinch your own nipples. "Keep talking to me, Sammy. I love it when you talk to me..."
"God, you're so fucking good," Sam rasped, leaning over you more closely and letting his eyes trail over every inch of your body. "You're so fucking tight, and wet, I just know you're gonna feel so good wrapped around my cock..."
You clenched around his fingers again, making him moan out on his next breath as he started pumping them faster into you.
"Come on, baby, give it up," he coaxed. "I can feel it, you want to let go so badly. Make a mess of me, sweetheart, come on..."
His left hand moved faster in circles over your clit while his right hand drove his two fingers into you faster and harder. The edges of your vision started to blacken as you felt your hips lifting off the bed, pausing there while your eyes pinched shut and you cried out. You rode the waves of pleasure until you stopped seeing stars, Sam's eyes glued to your face the whole time.
"I could watch you do that every day for the rest of my life," he whispered, slowly withdrawing his hands from your core. He smoothed his hands around to your hips, working his way up over the soft skin at your sides and working his thumbs over the peaks of your nipples.
Your eyes slowly opened as you melted into the soft movements of his hands, humming to yourself and taking in the sight of him above you.
One of his hands left your body, and you watched him wrap a fist around his own cock that had been left to obscenely bob between you. You licked your lips when you spied a drop of precum glistening at the tip.
"Sam," you whispered, reaching out to grasp his torso. You pulled him closer to you in the process, your hands gripping the smooth skin of his abdomen.
"Are you ready for me, baby?" he questioned, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours while his hand continued its subtle movements between you.
You nodded, moving his face with yours in the process. You angled your face up slightly, tilting your lips towards his. He took the hint, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss as he moaned against you.
When you broke apart for a breath, you whispered against his lips. "Fuck me like you do in your dreams, Sammy..."
He let out a whimper, threading his free hand into your hair and taking a step even closer to you at the foot of the bed. His sudden closeness caused the tip of his cock to grind against your clit, and you cried out.
"There it is, baby," he rasped, continuing to rub himself against you. "That's how you sound in my dreams..."
With one more slant of his hips, he lined up his cock at your entrance. He slid in inch by inch, watching your face intently as your mouth dropped open and your eyes rolled back. He smiled, knowing that the intensity of the feeling was mutual, before pulling back slightly and slamming his hips back into yours.
Sam straightened his posture slightly, leaning back to watch where he disappeared into you. His hands wandered down your sides, coming to rest at your hips just above the crease where your legs start. Once he had a grip on you, he started moving with more intent. He pounded into you relentlessly, watching your tits bounce with every snap of his hips. The grunts escaping his parted lips matched the whines escaping yours, and the two of you were completely lost in one another.
"That's it, baby," Sam panted, nuzzling his face into your neck. His lips left a trail from your collarbone down to your nipple, where he latched on like his life depended on it. After sucking it harshly for a few seconds, his lips let it go and he licked softly over the peak. He let his tongue trace across the center of your sternum as he repeated the process with your other nipple.
"Sammy, please," you cried, fingers threading into his hair and keeping his face pressed into your chest. He was still moving his hips at a bruising pace, his cock swelling inside you even more as he listened to you beg.
"I've got you," he whispered into your chest. "Just let it happen, baby. Give up another one for me, you know you want to..."
You were nodding along with his words as he spoke, convincing yourself to just let go. You felt the orgasm blooming inside you but held yourself back from the edge.
"It's too much, Sammy," you cried, tears rolling out the corners of your eyes. "It's too strong. It feels too good. I - I -..."
He lifted his head from your chest, moving one of his hands up from your waist to wipe away the tears on your face. Still, his length pounded into you with no reprieve.
"I told you, baby, I've got you," he consoled you. "Just let go, it's gonna be so good... soak me, baby, come on," he was mumbling against your cheek, practically begging you to make a mess of him.
A few more strokes of him inside you had the feeling bursting out of you like you'd never felt before. You felt the evidence of your orgasm raining down over Sam's length and pooling on the blanket under your ass. You opened your eyes to find Sam already looking at you, a smile on his face as he admired your flushed skin.
"That was fucking hot, baby," he grunted, the efforts of his powerful thrusts wearing on him. "We're gonna have some fun with that in the future," he grinned, winking at you. You smiled back at him, reaching up to trace your hands over the smooth skin on his chest.
"That's never happened to me before," you admitted sheepishly. "You just make me feel so fucking good, Sammy. So good..."
You felt his cock swell again as he thrusted into you more sloppily, and you could tell he was close.
"Where do you want me to cum, baby?" he breathed out over your cheek.
You didn't hesitate. "Inside. Please Sammy, inside," you begged, desperately wanting him to fill you up.
Sam traced a hand over your hair, smoothing an unruly strand out of your face. "Gladly," he whispered, using one hand to grip your chin so that he could guide your face towards his.
He pulled you into a deep kiss, grunting as he faltered in his thrusts and spilled into you. He slowed his hips significantly to avoid the overstimulation, but you were caught up in the feeling of fullness that his orgasm had provided. You moaned against his lips, and he eventually broke the kiss to lean his forehead against yours. You were both panting, trying to catch your breath and trying to hold onto the magic of the moment.
Sam gave you a lopsided smile, his kiss-swollen lips pulling back to expose his perfectly white teeth. He once again reached up to move a stray strand of hair away from your face.
"That was incredible," he whispered, the smile spreading even wider across his face.
"As good as you imagined it would be?" you questioned, raising an eyebrow at him with a grin.
"Better. So much better," he replied without hesitation. "Fuck, it's like you're made for me," he continued, kissing over both your cheeks and the tip of your nose. You giggled, clenching your pussy around his softening cock and reminding both of you that he was still resting inside you.
"I'm gonna pull out now, baby," he whispered as a warning.
You brought a hand up to the side of his face, rubbing over the stubble on his cheek. "I hate this part," you admitted quietly.
"Me too, sweetheart," he replied softly, turning his face slightly so that he could lay a kiss into your palm. He rocked his hips slowly, drawing his length further out of you on each backwards movement until he pulled it out completely.
You hissed at the sudden feeling of emptiness, but your discomfort was short lived as you registered Sam's hands gliding down your body to the tops of your bent knees. He held your legs open, eyes glued to your cunt where he watched in awe as his release trickled out of you.
He reached down, running a finger through the mess he made and bringing that same finger up to your lips. He watched expectantly as you wrapped your lips around his finger, lapping up his cum and swirling your tongue around the digit to ensure it was clean.
"Fuck," he whispered, watching every miniscule movement of your lips. "I think we just unlocked a new kink of mine," he admitted.
You smiled as he removed his finger from your lips. "I'm into it," you grinned, wrapping a hand around Sam's arm and pulling him down to kiss you. "We've got time to explore all the kinks you can think of..."
"Fuck, I can't wait baby," he replied against your lips, pausing to kiss you again. "You're staying here with me tonight," he whispered. "We'll get some dinner, drink some more wine, maybe do this again..." he trailed off, painting the picture of a perfect evening.
You froze as you remembered the boyfriend waiting for you at home. Sam seemed to read your mind, reaching up to stroke your hair as if he could physically remove the thought from your mind. "Don't think about him. Don't think about anything. We'll stay in this bubble for tonight, and we'll deal with the rest tomorrow."
You nodded slowly, eyes tracing over Sam's beautiful face. "I guess if I don't go home tonight, that kind of ends things." You both let out a chuckle at that.
"It would," Sam agreed. "Is that what you want?"
You hummed in contemplation. "Yeah, I think it's time. Is that what you want?"
"I want you. All the time, forever. I always have, since the day I met you. So yes, I think you should stay here with me and leave him for good."
You smiled at Sam's admission, nodding in agreement.
"Does that sound like a plan?" he asked, smiling down at you.
"Sounds like a great plan," you agreed.
The two of you moved to get up from the bed, Sam tossing you a spare set of clothes from his dresser that were more comfortable than the clothes you had worn to his house. You pulled on the too-long sweatpants and the long sleeved Paul McCartney tour shirt that hung far past your wrists while Sam pulled on black linen pants and a grey cashmere sweater. You shared a goofy smile before you followed him out to the living room, where you cracked open a new bottle of wine and Sam placed an order from the local Chinese food place.
With a belly full of Chinese food and wine, and a heart full of promises of the future, you fell asleep tangled in Sam's arms on the couch while The Force Awakens played in the background.
You felt his lips in your hair as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. "Goodnight, my love," he whispered.
Summary: You and Sam have been friends for years, but something has always lingered beneath the surface. It takes one Hozier song and a lot of pent-up tension to realize that you both feel the same way.
Heavily inspired by both this photo of Sammy and the song Talk by Hozier, but very lightly edited. Mostly just pure self-indulgent filth, I'm sorry
Warnings: cheating (oopsie), unprotected sex (I'm terrible at this so if it needs other warnings, someone pls tell me)
Your phone started vibrating in the cup holder as you pulled onto Sam's new street. You reached your thumb across the steering wheel to press the Bluetooth button before slowing down to read the address numbers neatly printed across the mailboxes out your tinted windows.
"Helloooooooooo?" You drew the word out, eyes still scanning for the house number that Sam had texted you hours earlier.
"Hey kid," Sam's raspy voice rang out through your car speakers, making you smile. "How far away are ya?"
"Hmmmm, about 10 houses," you answered, unexplained anticipation building like a lump in the back of your throat.
"Perrrrrrfect," he drawled. "I'm in the backyard, so just come through the gate at the side when you get here. Rose, get away from that!"
You heard a clatter in the background, before you heard Sam's quiet "fuck" come across the phone line. You giggled to yourself, surmising that the bouncy puppy had knocked something over.
"Gotta go. See you in a minute, kid." Sam hung up on the call before you could get another word out. It didn't matter, you were pulling into his lengthy driveway anyways. As tall pines surrounded the car on both sides, you thought about the situation you were heading into.
You and Sam had been friends for a few years. What started as acquaintances quickly blossomed into friendship when you realized how much you had in common - you had started cutting your teeth in Nashville as the administrative assistant to the head of Sam's record label, so you were often around the offices during meetings and the studio during recording sessions. As the months passed, and you memorized the guys' coffee orders, you had begun to build favour with the four of them. Sam had taken a particular liking to you during one of the label's industry dinners, picking your brain about music and movies and everything in between. The two of you had a friendship that couldn't be explained to anyone but you, and you had learned to ignore teasing comments from the other guys long ago. Your boyfriend, and Sam's girlfriend, were far less immune to the sensitivity of the other boys' teasing - your boyfriend didn't particularly care for Sam, and Sam's girlfriend didn't really care for you. You had tried to hang out as a foursome multiple times, but it usually ended with you and Sam in a conversation that the other two just couldn't relate or contribute to.
So, much to their dismay, you and Sam had resorted to hanging out every once in a while without the two of them. It made for awkward nights when you returned home to your boyfriend, but you knew that you had nothing to feel guilty about. Nothing had ever happened with Sam, and you were certain that nothing ever would. Your miniscule crush on Sam was suppressed into the deepest depths of your soul, because you were certain that he would never feel the same way. And there was no point in ruining your friendship, or your current relationship, for something that would never happen.
All of this is what brought you to the top of Sam's new driveway, bottle of wine and housewarming gift on the backseat, ready for a night to just hang out and exist together.
You gathered all of your items from the car before stepping out and grabbing your packages from the backseat. The car door slamming shut alerted Rose to your presence, and she started barking from the backyard.
You wandered towards the sound at the side gate that Sam had mentioned, taking in the beauty of his new house as you walked. The house had a rustic quality to it, and it definitely looked like it belonged in the woodland neighborhood. Sam had moved out of the hectic rush of Nashville's east side, and had chosen to settle about 30 minutes out of the city in a spot closer to the Tennessee mountains. The new property definitely seemed to be more his style, laid back and surrounded by nature just as you always pictured him to be.
You reached the gate, shuffling the items in your arms until you freed one of your hands to unlatch it. You were greeted by a bouncy puppy, smiling as you reached down to pat the top of Rose's head. She pranced next to you excitedly while you walked further into the yard, spotting Sam across from the inground swimming pool. He was kneeling on the stone patio, leaning back so that he was almost sitting on his bare feet. Spread out in front of him was an array of soils, plant pots, and orchids. He looked up when you approached, giving you a coy smile and making the effort to stand to his feet.
"Well, well, look who it is..." His smile spread across his face even bigger when you slid your sunglasses up into your hair like a headband. Sam walked closer to you, reaching out to take the items from your arms. You were suddenly glad that you had so many things to carry - it meant that there was a buffer in between you and Sam for the time being. You always felt awkward meeting up with him or saying goodbye when you had nothing in your hands... the two of you made a subconscious effort never to let physical touch linger too long, and you had never once hugged Sam in the years that you had been close friends. It was part of the reason why you felt your crush was not reciprocated - the man in front of you now clearly wanted nothing to do with touching you in any capacity.
Your mind brought you back to the present before you could spiral too far, and you turned to follow Sam as he walked towards the back door of the house. You spotted a broken terra cotta pot on the table next to the door.
"Is that what Rose broke?" You asked, pointing to the table.
Sam just laughed. "You heard that, huh?" You nodded, catching Sam's eye while he opened the door. "Yeah, she's a menace..."
Sam trailed off as you both entered his new space. Spread out in front of you was a sizeable kitchen, complete with a tiled island in the centre and a double oven on the far wall.
"Holy shit, Sammy," you lamented as you took in the room. He was smiling while he placed the items you had brought on the counter, turning around to put the bottle of wine in the fridge. "This is incredible!"
"You think so?" He asked, suddenly appearing self conscious. "I mean, it's been such a big change and I'm so happy, but.... sometimes I wonder if I made the right decision by moving out here."
"I think it's amazing," you answered honestly. "It's so peaceful, and just so... you."
He smiled so big at your statement that it showed off all his teeth, his plump lips pulling back in the most beautiful way. You cleared your throat and gestured towards the doorway that led to the rest of the house.
"But I want the full tour," you prompted, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach from the way that Sam's eyes were studying you. He did this sometimes when the two of you would hang out - studying your every movement, down to the twitch of your nose or the slight crinkle between your eyebrows when you realized what he was doing. It felt like he was trying to decipher your deepest secrets, and there were definitely thoughts within your brain that you didn't want him to clue into. You had reached a careful balance of thoughts and actions over the years of being his friend, and the only time you felt the facade crack a little bit were times when he studied you like this.
You blushed under his intense gaze, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear at the same time. This movement seemed to break his trance, and he suddenly remembered who he was and what you were doing.
"A tour, right! Follow me, I'll give you the grand tour..." Sam trailed off as he started walking out the kitchen doorway, reaching up to touch his fingertips to the door frame on his way out.
He gestured wildly as he toured you through the rest of the raised bungalow, taking you through the hallway that separated the bathroom and three bedrooms from the main space. One of the bedrooms was being used for art supplies and paintings, and another was being used for music equipment and instruments. He passed by the third bedroom door casually, raising a hand as you walked by.
"This is the master bedroom, where the magic happens, yada yada yada..." he trailed off, trying to remain nonchalant while he watched you peek your head through the doorframe. The room held the glow of the late afternoon sun, and the king bed that rested in the center was covered in dark green bedding and orange pillows. A mid century modern dresser stood against the far wall, with a framed picture of Rose on top next to an intense looking speaker system.
You ducked your head back out of the doorframe and turned your attention back to Sam in the hallway. "Wow, your room is very zen," you remarked, carrying on down the hall.
"Thanks... that means a lot, coming from the 'zen queen'," he joked. "The only thing I'm really missing from the old place is my plants," he continued, "but that's what I was starting to work on when you showed up."
"Well don't let me keep you from your important planting," you jested. "I'm sure I could find something else to do with my night if you want to continue..."
The hurt look that flashed across Sam's face at your comment caught you off guard briefly, but he quickly recovered.
"Actually, I was waiting for someone to show up cause I need some help. So I'm going to put you to work," he smiled. "Consider it repayment for the big fancy dinner I'm going to cook you later."
"It doesn't count as repayment if you haven't cooked the dinner yet, Sammy."
"Fine, prepayment, whatever..." he rolled his eyes as the two of you bickered your way back to the kitchen. He continued walking back to the door that led to the backyard, while you stopped next to the island.
"Want to get some wine poured while I run outside and grab something?" He asked, pointing to the cupboard next to the fridge. "Glasses are in there, and the opener is in the drawer above the dishwasher. I'll be right back." He gave a mock salute before slipping out the door.
You got to work on pulling wine glasses out of the cupboard Sam had pointed out, retrieving the bottle of wine you had brought from the fridge and twisting the top off. You poured two generous glasses, taking a sip from one while you watched Sam open the back door again. He was carrying a mess of rope and plant pots, placing everything on the tiled counter of the island before reaching for his wine glass. He hummed to himself, glancing over to where the bottle rested on the counter.
"You didn't need the opener?" He asked, swishing the wine around before taking a small sip.
"Sam." You leveled him with a look. "I learned my lesson with bottle corks years ago, remember? I've been using twist-offs ever since."
"Right, right, how could I ever forget?" He chuckled to himself, no doubt lost in the memory of you trying and failing to get the cork out of a wine bottle and smashing the whole thing on the middle of your kitchen floor. It had been a party at your apartment, and that spill had led to a days long argument with your boyfriend. He thought you had done it on purpose for attention. Sam had been the one to run to your pantry for extra paper towels, carefully bagging the broken glass and walking it out to the apartment building's dumpster before returning to the party. His girlfriend had watched the interaction with shifty eyes, but you were just thankful that he had taken over the cleaning. Your hands had been shaking too badly to risk having anywhere near the broken glass.
Sam took a longer sip of his wine, trying to clear the mildly unpleasant memory, and gestured to the materials he had brought in from outside.
"So I have these macrame plant holders," he started, "and I want to hang them in front of the kitchen windows. But I think it's a two person job, cause someone needs to hold them up while the other person drills the hooks into the ceiling."
You nodded as he spoke, following along with his plans. "Whatever you need, Sammy boy," you hummed, grabbing a macrame rope from the counter. He went to fetch the drill while you dragged a kitchen chair over to the first window frame.
"I think if you stand on the chair and hold up the hook, I can reach it with the drill since, ya know, I'm taller." He gave you a smirk.
"Congratutions on being tall," you rolled your eyes. "Can't relate," you added.
"I know you can't," he smiled down at you smugly, pressing the drill's button and whirring the machine in his hand while stepping closer to you.
You took steps backwards as he took slow steps forwards, until the backs of your legs hit the kitchen chair you had placed by the window pane. Sam held eye contact with you as you swallowed the nervous lump in your throat. Suddenly, he reached his free hand out to hold in front of you. You took it slowly, stepping up so that you were standing on the kitchen chair. You reluctantly let go of his hand once you were steady, wishing that you could have lingered longer with his touch on yours.
In your new positions, Sam's face rested at the height of your sternum. He reached up easily with the drill, to the place where he wanted the plant holder to hang from, and started making a preliminary hole. You watched his careful hands as they smoothed away the excess drywall dust, moving out of the way for you to reach up with the hook. You attached it into the ceiling, twisting the screwed end in to secure it and actively trying to ignore the way that you could feel Sam's exhaling breath landing on your slightly exposed chest. The closeness of his breathing made you wobble on the chair, losing your balance only slightly before Sam's free hand reached out to your hip in an effort to steady you.
"Careful," he rasped, watching you turn the screw the last couple of times before removing your hands from the ceiling. His eyes met yours when you brought your hands down to your sides, snatching his own hand away from your body as if it had touched an open flame.
"You good?" He asked, reaching out a hand for you to hop down from the chair. You just nodded, letting your feet hit the floor again and dragging the chair over to the next window opening in order to repeat the process.
The two of you worked in silent tandem, repeating the movements twice more to cover off all of the windows in Sam's new kitchen. When the last macrame holder was screwed in, you dragged the chair back to the table in the breakfast nook while Sam retrieved the potted plants from where he had left them on the island. You watched silently as he maneuvered the pots into the holders, adjusting the plants so that their leaves hung down between the ropes.
When he reached up to do the second plant pot, you realized that his black button up shirt had ridden up towards his belly button. A light dusting of hair trailed over his tanned skin and led into the confines of his pants, making you blush and turn away to your wineglass. You gave your head a slight shake to ward away the thoughts you were having about your friend - you tried to turn your mind to your boyfriend, wondering what he was doing at home right now. The problem was, you didn't really care.
"There," Sam proclaimed as he finished fluffing the leaves on the last plant. "That feels a little more like home to me." He smiled at your handiwork, and then turned to smile at you.
"Looks great," you agreed, nodding into your wine glass as you pushed it to your lips once again. Your cheeks were starting to feel flushed - you'd downed a fair bit of the alcohol while waiting for Sam to finish adjusting the plants.
"You know what would make it feel even more like home, I bet?" You asked, raising your eyebrows in Sam's direction.
"This will be good," he deadpanned in return.
"A record! You do have your player hooked up already, don't you?" Your eyes betrayed your excitement - Sam had the best record collection of anyone you'd ever met.
"Uhhh, duh!" came Sam's response, grabbing his wine off of the counter and waving a hand behind him for you to follow into the living room.
You settled onto Sam's pink velvet couch, the numerous throw pillows instantly engulfing you and making you sink into the cushions. You placed your wine glass on the coffee table in front of you while you took in the room in more detail than you'd been able to on your brief tour earlier.
The room was large, easily accounting for Sam's piano that stood in the corner. Across from the couch was a fireplace, a large screen TV hanging above it. The left side of the room is where Sam stood in front of a vintage looking sideboard. The cupboard of the unit stood open, and Sam was shuffling through the extensive record collection hidden inside. His record player stood proudly on the top of the walnut coloured piece of furniture.
While he searched for the perfect album, you took another sweeping look across the room. You noticed that the only photos in frames were of Rose and Sam's family. The only knick knacks around the space were the ones that Sam had brought home from touring the world. Your breath caught as you made the realization - you had yet to see anything belonging to Sam's girlfriend in his new house. On the one hand, it was his house... so it made sense that all the items would be his. On the other hand, they had been together for years at this point... you thought for sure that there would be some items of hers laying around, or at least some photos of them in the frames around the room.
"Uhhh, Sammy?" You started, stomach turning over as you anticipated asking a dumb question.
"Whats up?" He responded casually, finally choosing a record and flipping the cover over between his long fingers. He dumped the record out of the sleeve into his hand, placing it deftly on the turntable and dropping the needle onto the edge. You watched in a quiet trance as the beginning notes of Hozier's Wasteland Baby album began to play.
Sam turned around to you with his eyebrows raised, silently wondering if you were going to continue.
"It's just..." you didn't know how to phrase the question you wanted to ask. "I don't see any of Kayley's stuff around here. Or any pictures of you guys. Did I miss something?"
Sam huffed a small breath through his nostrils, settling into the couch beside you.
"I mean, we broke up if that's what you're asking."
You felt a jolt of electric energy shoot through you as you processed his words.
"What? When? We were with you guys like a month ago and everything seemed fine!" You blurted out, trying to process the new information.
"Okay, that was over a month ago, thank you very much," Sam mumbled. You threw him a look in response. "We just... we were on different pages. She assumed that me moving here meant that she was moving in, and I just... I wanted space. When I set her straight on the fact that she wasn't moving in here with me, she suggested that we see other people." He cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "Actually, she suggested that I see you instead."
Your mouth popped open in shock as you struggled to regulate your breathing. "Why on earth would she suggest that?" You mumbled, already knowing the answer. People had teased you and Sam about your natural chemistry for years. But it didn't matter, you had a boyfriend that you lived with and had loved for years. You loved him, right? Yes, you reminded yourself. Yes you did. At one point. But did you still? It didn't matter. Just because Sam suddenly found himself single didn't mean that he wanted to be with you. He hadn't ended his relationship. He would have still been with her, willingly, if she hadn't broken up with him.
All of these thoughts tumbled through your head as you and Sam maintained eye contact across the couch. He was studying you closely again, trying to peer into the depths of your thoughts and monitoring any twitch of movement on your face. The weight of his gaze was intense, and you were the first to look away.
You leaned forward to pick up your wine, taking a big gulp before setting the glass back down on the table. "Well I'm sorry to hear that, Sammy. I know how much you cared about her."
"That's true," he hummed. "I did care about her. But did I love her? I'm not sure."
You stared down at your hands, wracking your brain for something to say in return.
"Oh well, it's probably for the best," Sam continued with a sigh. "She was never really supportive of our friendship anyways. And she couldn't accept the fact that you aren't going anywhere. You're in my life for good, kid. I hope you realize that."
You glanced up, meeting the intensity of Sam's brown eyes while he took a big sip from his own wine glass.
"Trevor doesn't like it when we hang out either," you responded. "I'm pretty sure he thinks something is going on between us." You rolled your eyes at the absurdity of the assumption.
Sam let out a chuckle beside you. "I kind of gathered that," he laughed. "That dude looks like he wants to beat the shit out of me every chance that he gets."
You smiled too at that, knowing that Sam was only partially joking, and leaned back further into the plush pillows of the couch. The soft sounds of Hozier floated over you as you let your eyes close for a second.
"Sammy, these speakers are amazing," you mumbled out, eyes still closed.
"They're nice, huh? Want to see something cool?" You felt the couch shift beside you as Sam stood up, and when you opened your eyes he was standing in front of you holding an outstretched hand in your direction.
"I always want to see something cool," you replied with a smile, taking his hand and letting him pull you up from the comfort of the couch.
Sam kept a hold of your hand as he pulled you down the hallway that led to the bedrooms and the bathroom. He took a sharp turn into his bedroom, dropping your hand once you made it through the doorway and walking over to flick the power switch on the speakers that sat atop his dresser. The same Hozier song that was playing from the record in the living room boomed through the bedroom speakers.
"Holy shit, they're all connected?!" You asked excitedly. Sam just nodded at you, smiling at your reaction.
"Pretty cool, huh?"
"The coolest, Sammy. You're pretty much the coolest person I know," you smiled.
You sat down on the end of his bed as the final notes of Shrike played out through the speakers. Sam had been hovering near the dresser, but he slowly made his way over towards you while the first chords of Talk played out through the house.
You had spread your arms out behind you, propping yourself up on your hands while leaning back slightly to watch Sam as he approached. He stopped in front of you, stepping in between your slightly parted legs. His presence loomed over you in a way that made you short of breath. You held each other's stare as he took another small step forward, now crowding you slightly. You held your breath as the chorus of the song started.
I won't deny
I've got in my mind now
All the things i would do
So I'll try to talk refined
For fear that you'll find out
How I'm imagining you
As Hozier's words hung softly in the air around the two of you, Sam slowly brought his hand up to your face. He ran the pad of his thumb over your closed lips, catching slightly on the plumpness of your bottom one while he dragged his finger over it.
You swallowed thickly, leaning back even further and craning your neck up to maintain eye contact. The position allowed for your neck to be completely exposed, and the slow drag of Sam's hand followed the curve of it until his fingers lightly wrapped around your throat.
He leaned forward even more, making you almost horizontal on the bed, and whispered against your lips. "This song has always made me think of you."
It felt like fireworks were going off in your brain. What did he mean? Did he think of you in the way that you thought of him sometimes? Was he willing to risk your friendship for this? Were you willing to risk your relationship for this?
The alarm bells in your head were silenced by one simple thought that overrode all the others - you would go anywhere and do anything for this man in front of you, consequences be damned.
He brought your attention back to the present by lightly squeezing his fingers around your throat.
"Just say the word and I'll stop," he whispered, his breath fanning across your parted lips. "God, I need to know how you taste. You've been driving me insane for years..."
His voice trailed off as he leaned in impossibly closer to you, watching closely for the slight nod you gave before he finally covered your lips with his. He pressed himself further into you, letting go of your throat in favour of holding himself up with an arm extended next to your head. His lips parted slowly, inviting your tongue into his mouth and pushing back with his own to deepen the kiss.
Your moan was stifled against Sam's lips, but he seemed to take it as encouragement to kiss you even harder. You leaned back onto your elbows, eventually falling to your back as Sam drove you even further into the bed. Your hands skated their way up Sam's torso, pausing to undo the few buttons that had been done up on his shirt, and eventually they found their home in the hair at the base of Sam's neck. You gave a light tug to the strands, earning a deep groan from the man above you that vibrated against your lips. You couldn't help but smile against his kiss, making him pause and pull away from you for a moment.
"You have no idea how many times I've had to hold myself back from doing that," Sam admitted quietly, ducking down to brush his nose back and forth against yours a few times.
You smiled, adjusting yourself on the bed underneath him and lightly thrusting your hips into his. You could feel how hard he was already, even throught the layers of clothing separating you two.
He groaned again at your movements, reaching up to grasp your wrists before bringing them back down to pin against the bed above your head. He held you there for a moment, running his thumbs over the delicate skin on your wrists.
"Show me," you whispered. His eyebrows knitted together in silent question, not understanding what you meant. "Show me what else you've wanted to do to me," you clarified, daring him to make another move.
A devilish smirk appeared on his lips before he leaned down to nuzzle his lips into the skin between your neck and your ear. "As you wish," he mumbled.
Sam's lips began tracing a pathway from the side of your neck down to your sternum, pausing briefly to have you lift your shirt over your head. He began working back down, hovering his lips low on your hip bones while he shimmied your shorts down and off your legs. Lying beneath him in just your bra and panties for the first time, you didn't have time to be self conscious. He let out a shaky breath as he ran his hands delicately up your sides, taking his time feeling the smooth skin and admiring you in a way that he had never had the privilege of seeing.
His eyes traced up to your face while his hands made their way to your bra, keeping eye contact as he pulled the cups down to expose your nipples. They immediately pebbled in the cool air of the room, and Sam's glance down to them made him release a quiet whimper. He immediately leaned in, taking one into his mouth and suckling harshly. You let out a cry at the feeling, arching your back and tossing your head back into the mattress. Your hands reached down to hold the sides of Sam's head, holding him in place as he continued running his mouth around your chest.
He released the first nipple with a pop, and made his way over to the other side to repeat the process. His movements were quickly reducing you to a whimpering mess beneath him.
You arched your back again, bringing one hand down from the side of Sam's head to reach between you. You were desperate to feel him, desperate to make him feel as good as he was making you feel.
You slid your hand into the waistband of his linen pants, gliding over his smooth hips before wrapping a hand around his hard cock. As soon as you made contact, Sam's lips left your nipple and he rested his forehead on your sternum, breathing heavily.
"Fuck," he breathed out, trying to control himself.
"Is this what you always thought it would feel like?" You whispered into his hair, sliding your hand back and forth lightly. You collected a bead of precum from the tip, running your thumb along the underside and silently marveling at how big he was.
"Fuck no," he shook his head, lifting slightly to look down in between you at where your hand disappeared into his pants. "This is so much better." He looked up into your eyes, leaning forward to kiss you before continuing. "The amount of times I've jerked off and wished it was your touch..."
He trailed off as you smiled, somewhat proud that you weren't the only one pining in your friendship over the years.
"I've thought about you too," you admitted, continuing the slow movements of your hand.
Sam reached up to pinch your nipple lightly. "Hmmm," he mumbled, stumbling over his thoughts while your thumb ran around his tip again. "What did you think about?"
"Mostly how badly I wanted to feel you inside me," you blushed. "And I had a feeling you had a big cock."
"Oh my god," Sam sighed, dropping his forehead to rest on yours. "Are you gonna take it all?" He rasped, making you gasp and arch your back again as you nodded.
"Can I suck it first?" You whispered, biting your lip while you guaged his reaction. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, bringing a hand up to hold onto your throat again.
His thumb migrated over your chin and into your mouth, where you rolled your tongue over it and sucked softly. Sam drew in a shuddered breath, keeping his eyes locked to where his thumb disappeared into your mouth. You felt him throb in your hand, becoming impossibly harder.
"Fuck, as much as I would love that..." he spoke slowly and quietly, "I don't think I'll last very long. Next time," he whispered into the thick air between you. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the mention of doing this again.
You smiled around his thumb in your mouth before he withdrew it, drawing away from you completely and moving to stand above you at the end of the bed. The elastic of his waistband snapped against his tan skin as he stood, your hand slipping out of his pants in the process. He slowly stripped while he stared you down from his position at your feet, throwing his shirt, pants, and boxers off to the side of his room.
You brought your hand up to your mouth as you watched him, licking away the salty precum from your fingers. Your eyes closed briefly as you savored the taste of him and you let out a satisfied hum. From the end of the bed, you heard a groan that made you open your eyes.
You had a perfect view of Sam standing between your bent legs, his own hand working slowly over his cock.
"Holy fuck, kid," he whispered. "You like the way I taste?"
You nodded at him with heavily lidded eyes, grinning at the effect you were clearly having on him. Your hands trailed down your own body, enjoying the way that Sam's eyes were following every move, until they reached the elastic band at the top of your panties. You made a point to slide them down slowly over your legs, bending your knees at a ninety degree angle so that you could slide them off completely. You tossed them to the side of the room where they landed with the pile of clothing Sam had already created, and planted your feet flat on the bed. You let your legs fall open slightly, intentionally giving Sam a sneak peek of your pussy.
He let out another strained groan above you, shaking his head as he moved to wrap one hand around each of your ankles.
"I think you're trying to kill me," he said softly. Your giggle turned into a yelping sound as he yanked you closer towards the edge of the bed, using his grip on your ankles to fold your legs back. He leaned over your lower half, eyes stuck on the way that your pussy was spread out just for him.
"Keep your legs just like this," he ordered, trailing his hands up to your calves and then to your knees as he spread your legs even wider. He kept his hands over your knees as he leaned down closer to your center, letting a trail of spit dangle from his mouth to land on your pussy.
You clenched around nothing as his saliva landed on you, and Sam was studying your body closely enough that he caught the subtle movement.
"You like that?" he questioned, eyes briefly flickering up to meet yours. You nodded in response, swallowing audibly while your gaze followed Sam's right index finger moving towards your core.
You gasped and tossed your head back into the duvet as his finger rubbed a slow circle over your aching clit. Again, you clenched around nothing while your head lifted slightly to look at Sam.
"Please," you whimpered, trying to maintain your composure.
"Please what, baby?" Sam teased, keeping his touch light. "You want me to fill you up? What do you want, my fingers or my cock? Use your words, sweetheart."
You groaned at his words, lightly thrusting your hips up into his hand in an effort to gain more friction from his finger that was still slowly circling you.
"I don't care, Sammy," you whispered. "Please, just do something. You're driving me crazy..." The last part of your sentence left your lips on a whine, desperate for Sam to touch you.
"Shhhhh, baby, it's okay," he soothed, dragging his finger down towards your entrance. "You can have my fingers for now, baby. Got to make sure you're nice and stretched out for me..."
His voice trailed off into a groan when his index finger slipped into you. You cried out at the sensation, thrusting your hips upwards once again to draw him in further.
He slowly drew his finger out of you before plunging it back in, repeating the pattern until you were writhing underneath him and begging for more.
"You want another?" Sam questioned softly, eyes glued to the spot where his hand connected to your body.
"Please, Sammy," you whispered desperately.
"You sound so pretty like this," he mused, removing his finger and rubbing it over your clit before bringing two back down to your entrance. "Deep breath, baby girl. You're so tight, I don't want to hurt you..."
You followed his instructions and inhaled deeply, accepting the added intrusion with ease. His fingers curled into you as you clawed at the duvet, desperate for something to hold onto.
"Sammy," you moaned out on a whisper. "That's so good. So good..." You trailed off, closing your eyes and turning to bury your face into the bedding underneath you.
Your eyes were ripped open again as you felt another string of saliva land on your clit. You watched as Sam's free hand left its resting place on your knee and began rubbing over your core. The combined sensation of both of his hands working over you drove you closer to the edge, and you clenched down hard around his fingers.
"Think you can cum like this, baby?"
"Mhmm," you nodded, hands reaching to pinch your own nipples. "Keep talking to me, Sammy. I love it when you talk to me..."
"God, you're so fucking good," Sam rasped, leaning over you more closely and letting his eyes trail over every inch of your body. "You're so fucking tight, and wet, I just know you're gonna feel so good wrapped around my cock..."
You clenched around his fingers again, making him moan out on his next breath as he started pumping them faster into you.
"Come on, baby, give it up," he coaxed. "I can feel it, you want to let go so badly. Make a mess of me, sweetheart, come on..."
His left hand moved faster in circles over your clit while his right hand drove his two fingers into you faster and harder. The edges of your vision started to blacken as you felt your hips lifting off the bed, pausing there while your eyes pinched shut and you cried out. You rode the waves of pleasure until you stopped seeing stars, Sam's eyes glued to your face the whole time.
"I could watch you do that every day for the rest of my life," he whispered, slowly withdrawing his hands from your core. He smoothed his hands around to your hips, working his way up over the soft skin at your sides and working his thumbs over the peaks of your nipples.
Your eyes slowly opened as you melted into the soft movements of his hands, humming to yourself and taking in the sight of him above you.
One of his hands left your body, and you watched him wrap a fist around his own cock that had been left to obscenely bob between you. You licked your lips when you spied a drop of precum glistening at the tip.
"Sam," you whispered, reaching out to grasp his torso. You pulled him closer to you in the process, your hands gripping the smooth skin of his abdomen.
"Are you ready for me, baby?" he questioned, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours while his hand continued its subtle movements between you.
You nodded, moving his face with yours in the process. You angled your face up slightly, tilting your lips towards his. He took the hint, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss as he moaned against you.
When you broke apart for a breath, you whispered against his lips. "Fuck me like you do in your dreams, Sammy..."
He let out a whimper, threading his free hand into your hair and taking a step even closer to you at the foot of the bed. His sudden closeness caused the tip of his cock to grind against your clit, and you cried out.
"There it is, baby," he rasped, continuing to rub himself against you. "That's how you sound in my dreams..."
With one more slant of his hips, he lined up his cock at your entrance. He slid in inch by inch, watching your face intently as your mouth dropped open and your eyes rolled back. He smiled, knowing that the intensity of the feeling was mutual, before pulling back slightly and slamming his hips back into yours.
Sam straightened his posture slightly, leaning back to watch where he disappeared into you. His hands wandered down your sides, coming to rest at your hips just above the crease where your legs start. Once he had a grip on you, he started moving with more intent. He pounded into you relentlessly, watching your tits bounce with every snap of his hips. The grunts escaping his parted lips matched the whines escaping yours, and the two of you were completely lost in one another.
"That's it, baby," Sam panted, nuzzling his face into your neck. His lips left a trail from your collarbone down to your nipple, where he latched on like his life depended on it. After sucking it harshly for a few seconds, his lips let it go and he licked softly over the peak. He let his tongue trace across the center of your sternum as he repeated the process with your other nipple.
"Sammy, please," you cried, fingers threading into his hair and keeping his face pressed into your chest. He was still moving his hips at a bruising pace, his cock swelling inside you even more as he listened to you beg.
"I've got you," he whispered into your chest. "Just let it happen, baby. Give up another one for me, you know you want to..."
You were nodding along with his words as he spoke, convincing yourself to just let go. You felt the orgasm blooming inside you but held yourself back from the edge.
"It's too much, Sammy," you cried, tears rolling out the corners of your eyes. "It's too strong. It feels too good. I - I -..."
He lifted his head from your chest, moving one of his hands up from your waist to wipe away the tears on your face. Still, his length pounded into you with no reprieve.
"I told you, baby, I've got you," he consoled you. "Just let go, it's gonna be so good... soak me, baby, come on," he was mumbling against your cheek, practically begging you to make a mess of him.
A few more strokes of him inside you had the feeling bursting out of you like you'd never felt before. You felt the evidence of your orgasm raining down over Sam's length and pooling on the blanket under your ass. You opened your eyes to find Sam already looking at you, a smile on his face as he admired your flushed skin.
"That was fucking hot, baby," he grunted, the efforts of his powerful thrusts wearing on him. "We're gonna have some fun with that in the future," he grinned, winking at you. You smiled back at him, reaching up to trace your hands over the smooth skin on his chest.
"That's never happened to me before," you admitted sheepishly. "You just make me feel so fucking good, Sammy. So good..."
You felt his cock swell again as he thrusted into you more sloppily, and you could tell he was close.
"Where do you want me to cum, baby?" he breathed out over your cheek.
You didn't hesitate. "Inside. Please Sammy, inside," you begged, desperately wanting him to fill you up.
Sam traced a hand over your hair, smoothing an unruly strand out of your face. "Gladly," he whispered, using one hand to grip your chin so that he could guide your face towards his.
He pulled you into a deep kiss, grunting as he faltered in his thrusts and spilled into you. He slowed his hips significantly to avoid the overstimulation, but you were caught up in the feeling of fullness that his orgasm had provided. You moaned against his lips, and he eventually broke the kiss to lean his forehead against yours. You were both panting, trying to catch your breath and trying to hold onto the magic of the moment.
Sam gave you a lopsided smile, his kiss-swollen lips pulling back to expose his perfectly white teeth. He once again reached up to move a stray strand of hair away from your face.
"That was incredible," he whispered, the smile spreading even wider across his face.
"As good as you imagined it would be?" you questioned, raising an eyebrow at him with a grin.
"Better. So much better," he replied without hesitation. "Fuck, it's like you're made for me," he continued, kissing over both your cheeks and the tip of your nose. You giggled, clenching your pussy around his softening cock and reminding both of you that he was still resting inside you.
"I'm gonna pull out now, baby," he whispered as a warning.
You brought a hand up to the side of his face, rubbing over the stubble on his cheek. "I hate this part," you admitted quietly.
"Me too, sweetheart," he replied softly, turning his face slightly so that he could lay a kiss into your palm. He rocked his hips slowly, drawing his length further out of you on each backwards movement until he pulled it out completely.
You hissed at the sudden feeling of emptiness, but your discomfort was short lived as you registered Sam's hands gliding down your body to the tops of your bent knees. He held your legs open, eyes glued to your cunt where he watched in awe as his release trickled out of you.
He reached down, running a finger through the mess he made and bringing that same finger up to your lips. He watched expectantly as you wrapped your lips around his finger, lapping up his cum and swirling your tongue around the digit to ensure it was clean.
"Fuck," he whispered, watching every miniscule movement of your lips. "I think we just unlocked a new kink of mine," he admitted.
You smiled as he removed his finger from your lips. "I'm into it," you grinned, wrapping a hand around Sam's arm and pulling him down to kiss you. "We've got time to explore all the kinks you can think of..."
"Fuck, I can't wait baby," he replied against your lips, pausing to kiss you again. "You're staying here with me tonight," he whispered. "We'll get some dinner, drink some more wine, maybe do this again..." he trailed off, painting the picture of a perfect evening.
You froze as you remembered the boyfriend waiting for you at home. Sam seemed to read your mind, reaching up to stroke your hair as if he could physically remove the thought from your mind. "Don't think about him. Don't think about anything. We'll stay in this bubble for tonight, and we'll deal with the rest tomorrow."
You nodded slowly, eyes tracing over Sam's beautiful face. "I guess if I don't go home tonight, that kind of ends things." You both let out a chuckle at that.
"It would," Sam agreed. "Is that what you want?"
You hummed in contemplation. "Yeah, I think it's time. Is that what you want?"
"I want you. All the time, forever. I always have, since the day I met you. So yes, I think you should stay here with me and leave him for good."
You smiled at Sam's admission, nodding in agreement.
"Does that sound like a plan?" he asked, smiling down at you.
"Sounds like a great plan," you agreed.
The two of you moved to get up from the bed, Sam tossing you a spare set of clothes from his dresser that were more comfortable than the clothes you had worn to his house. You pulled on the too-long sweatpants and the long sleeved Paul McCartney tour shirt that hung far past your wrists while Sam pulled on black linen pants and a grey cashmere sweater. You shared a goofy smile before you followed him out to the living room, where you cracked open a new bottle of wine and Sam placed an order from the local Chinese food place.
With a belly full of Chinese food and wine, and a heart full of promises of the future, you fell asleep tangled in Sam's arms on the couch while The Force Awakens played in the background.
You felt his lips in your hair as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. "Goodnight, my love," he whispered.
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