X-rated Education part 6.
a Tom Grant (Make Up 2019) story.
warnings: female reader, smut, curse words.
Fifth lesson
Tom was lying on his back, soaked in sweat with a just as sweaty Y/N on top of him, both of them trying to catch their breaths after their reunion earlier that night.
One would’ve thought that they had been apart for months rather then just a week. They had lunged at each other as soon as Y/N stepped inside the trailer, Tom pressing her up against the door (and only closing it because of that but he didn’t realize that until later) to kiss her and taste her skin while her hands roamed over his body.
The first round they hadn’t even gotten all of their clothes off. Y/N was still in her bra, her jeans only pulled off by one leg, panties tugged to the side. Tom’s jeans and boxers had been shoved just beneath his ass and they hadn’t even made it to the bed; Y/N rode him directly on the floor, wailing like a banshee while his grunts and groans echoed around the trailer along with the sounds of skin slapping against skin as well as the obscene squelching sounds from when he pushed in and out of Y/N’s cunt.
It hadn’t lasted long for either of them and full of giggles they had stripped of the rest of their clothes and moved to the bed for a little more comfort.
That’s where they had gone for round two. No new positions or lessons though, Tom had had Y/N on his lap, fucking up into her, his arms wrapped around her back while his hands held on to her shoulders for the perfect leverage, Y/N‘s head tipped back, her mouth open in soundless screams as his cock was basically sparring with her g-spot back and forth, back and forth.
Afterwards they had just fallen down onto the mattress; Y/N had draped herself over him, Tom stretching out his legs, his arms still wrapped around her. He could feel his own spent leaking out of her, a steady trickle dripping down on him, past his balls and hitting the bed. It made him feel a strange kind of smug. There had been a lot of new stains on the mattress since he met Y/N.
Y/N hummed a little, lifting her head, which seemed to take a lot of effort. “I should go and clean up. I don’t want to ruin your sheets.”
Tom snorted and tightened his grip on her. “It’s a little late for that, love. And I couldn’t care less.”
But then he remembered something he had read recently, just before Y/N came home. Yes, perhaps he had looked some things up because he wanted to impress her; spoil her, show her how much he liked being with her like this, not just because of the things she taught him.
On a site online he had stumbled across some facts and tips for a better sex life and caring for your partner. And it had said that women should try to pee after every sex session, because it decreased the risk of UTI’s.
Tom had noticed that Y/N often went into the bathroom to clean herself off – she rarely let him do it and when he read that it made sense. If she wanted to pee directly afterwards she might as well clean up at the same time.
But there were plenty of other things he could do instead. He sat up, taking her with him and got up from the bed. “Come on,” he told her, carrying her into the bathroom. “Let’s clean up and then we can go back to bed and snuggle.”
Y/N’s eyes lit up as he said that. He had been a little worried that she would think that weird since they weren’t really a couple but thankfully that clearly wasn’t the case.
Tom put her down on the toilet and then turned the shower on. He wished he could treat her to a bubble bath but sadly his little trailer was only equipped with a tiny shower stall. He turned the water on full force, so Y/N could use the toilet without feeling embarrassed about him being in there.
When she was done and had flushed the toilet as well as washed her hands she came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Is it warm? I’m feeling cold.”
“Then you better get in, babe,” Tom told her, moving out of the way so she could step inside the stall. He walked in behind her, taking the same position as she had just a second ago, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Is this helping? You warming up?”
Y/N only hummed, leaning backwards against him, closing her eyes against the spray.
“Tom, I hope it’s not too big of a disappointment if I tell you that I don’t think I have another round in me,” Y/N said in an apologetic tone. “It was wonderful but…”
Tom shushed her. “That’s not what I had in mind,” he assured her, gently rubbing her arms. “It was wonderful but never think that getting off is the only reason we… well, you know. I’m so grateful for everything you teach me and I do want you to have a good time too.”
He heard Y/N inhale deeply, as if reacting to something he said but she remained quiet.
After a moment he took his body wash and poured it into his hands, lathering them up. “Sorry, it’s all I have,” he told her as the typical male scent spread inside the bathroom.
Y/N giggled. “It’s okay. I like the thought of smelling like you – well, other than your bodily fluids.”
Tom snorted at that as he started to wash her shoulders and back, massaging them as his hands moved over the skin. “You certainly didn’t seem to have a problem with my bodily fluids earlier,” he teased her, giving her earlobe a little nip that made her giggle again. He loved that sound.
“If you want you could bring some of your toiletries over here – just in case,” he suggested, well aware how it could sound, but that’s why he made sure to say ‘toiletries’ and nothing else. There was nothing weird about that, right? It would be like… well, like when you kept an extra deodorant in your locker at the gym.
Right?
Y/N was quiet for a moment but then she nodded. “You know, that might make things a lot easier. I’ll bring some around. Thanks, Tom.”
“’Thanks?’ For what?” Tom wondered with a chuckle, rubbing his soapy hands over her chest and stomach.
“For being okay with a girl putting her things in your bathroom!” Y/N laughed. “Aren’t guys usually terrified of that? That it means things are moving too quickly – oh no, the commitment!”
“Well, I guess I’m not like other guys,” Tom said holding Y/N’s arms out to rinse them from the bodywash.
“No. You’re not,” Y/N said, her voice so low that he almost didn’t hear it.
What did she mean by that?
Tom finished washing Y/N and then wondered if she wanted him to wash her hair but she said no. “It will get so frizzy without conditioner. That’s one of the things I should bring here, ASAP,” she told him and he had to laugh at that. He had heard of conditioner of course but he had no idea what it was or what you used it for, but he would be more than happy to learn so he could care for Y/N’s hair another time. After he gave himself a quick wash he turned off the shower and wrapped Y/N up in a towel so she wouldn’t get cold.
Y/N seemed to have been struck with silence again as Tom picked up his brush and started to comb her hair. It was only when he went to give her hair a brisk rub with the towel that she shook her head.
“No, like this…” she said, and showed him how he would use the towel to squeeze the excess water out of the tresses. “Rubbing it down like that can damage the hair. Sorry if I’m being a control freak!”
Tom scoffed. “Hey, it’s your hair that I’m taking care of, right? The least I could do is letting you tell me how you want it.”
Y/N gave him that strange look again. It wasn’t how she usually looked at him; filled with desire when she wanted him, humor when they laughed together or the patient one when she instructed him in the ways of sex. No, this one was different. Almost like those times when you met a person and recognized them but couldn’t place from where.
Her hand had absentmindedly moved to Tom’s wet curls, her fingers combing them out as he finished with her hair.
“You want a cuppa?” he then wondered, lifting her up bridal style and opened the door to the bathroom. “We can have it in bed.”
“Yes. I’d like that.”
“How about some whiskey with it?” Tom offered, setting her down on the bed, carefully forming the duvet around her before taking the towel away. Tossing the towels into the hamper he took out a pair of clean boxers before hurrying into the kitchen to turn the kettle on.
“Want some snacks?” he called and Y/N replied:
“No, thank you. Just tea would be great.”
Tom looked into the fridge anyway and realized he didn’t have a whole lot to offer – he needed to go grocery shopping. Good thing she didn’t want any – maybe fate finally had taken a pity on him? He had to snicker silently at that thought.
Instead he prepared the tea, pouring some Jameson into both of their mugs and then walked back into the bedroom again.
“Here you go. Careful, it’s hot.”
Y/N chuckled. “I should hope so, otherwise it wouldn’t be tea.”
“It could. Could be ice tea,” Tom teased her and Y/N stuck her tongue out at him, making them both laugh.
She blew a little on the tea and then carefully took a sip. Her eyes widened. “You… you remembered that?”
“What?” Tom wondered
“That I don’t like sugar in my tea – that I prefer it with just honey.”
“Yes?” Tom said, not really understanding what she meant. “You said that you thought the sweetness of honey made the taste more savory than processed sugar and that it was healthier too, that’s why you prefer it in your tea. If you have coffee you take cream in it in instead of milk for the same reason – richer taste.”
Y/N’s mouth hung open. Then she placed her tea cup on the nightstand and took Tom’s from him as well, putting it beside hers.
She climbed into his lap, the duvet forming a tent around them as she hugged him tightly.
“What’s wrong?” Tom wondered, worried that he had done something bad.
“Nothing,” Y/N whispered, the hairs at the back of his neck rising as the caress of her voice against his skin. “It’s just… funny.
“Funny?” Tom repeated, raising his eyebrows.
“Yes. You wanted me to teach you how to please women. But Tom, I wonder if you realize that in so many ways… you are already perfect. A man any woman would be proud to call hers.”
Would you, Tom wondered to himself, running his fingers up and down Y/N’s back, stroking the silky skin. Would you be proud to call me yours, Y/N?
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