hi!! I'm here from your Spilled Coffee fic, absolutely in love with that one btw.
I had another request for Ewan, if you're down to write it!!
I've been watching Long Way Home from a few years ago, and saw Ewan driving an old, rusty Volkswagen truck. can't explain why, but made me love him even more
I was wondering, if you could write something with driving around with him at night. going up to a look-out spot.
could be soft and fluffy (just the late night drive to sit and spend time after a long time apart), or porn with plot (fucking in the back of the truck with no one around), whichever feels more interesting for you to write, those were my two ideas lol
found a photo as a gift :3
anyways!! thank you, love your work!!! definitely stole my breath away
ď˝ď˝ď˝ ďź´ď˝ď˝ď˝
Song: Up All Night - The Undercover Dream Lovers
đŚđđşđşđŽđżđ: Ewan lives his life in constant motion. You donât. But when he returns and asks you to trust him and you get into the truck.
đŁđŽđśđżđśđťđ´: Ewan McGregor x fem!Reader
đŞđźđżđą đđźđđťđ: 3,3k
đŞđŽđżđťđśđťđ´đ: None, just fluff :3
The afternoon dragged on mercilessly.
Sunlight spilled through the window in soft, warm lines, stretching across the floor, the walls, the sheets. Dust floated in the air like tiny sparks. Youâd been lying on the bed for⌠you werenât even sure how long. The book rested open on your stomach. The same page for a good twenty minutes now. Your eyes kept moving over the lines, again and again, but nothing stayed. Not a single sentence. Not a single thought.
Your hand reached blindly for the phone beside your pillow.
Dark screen. You unlocked it.
Notifications â zero.
You let out a quiet sigh and sank deeper into the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. The house felt unnaturally silent today. There was nothing to distract your thoughts. No TV humming in the background, no distant conversations, even the birds outside seemed to be more quiet.
And that was exactly why everything came rushing back.
His laugh.
Low, a little raspy, always arriving a second after heâd told a joke that amused him more than anyone else. His accent when he said your name â the rounded vowels, the soft ârâ he could never pronounce the way you did. The way heâd lean against the doorframe like he owned the space without even trying.
You set the book aside.
His jacket hung over the chair beside your bed.
Heâd left it here a month ago, saying, âIâll be back soon,â as if he were just stepping out to the corner store and not⌠wherever it was life had pulled him this time. For the first few days, you barely touched it. Then once â just once â you slipped it on for a moment, and from that point on you knew it had been a mistake.
Ewan had asked you to go with him.
But you donât like long trips. You feel off being so far from home for so long.
You inhaled deeply instead of blaming yourself for staying.
It still smelled like him. Leather and that distinct cologne of his.
Without getting up, you tugged the jacket closer with your fingers and pressed the fabric to your face. You closed your eyes for just a second. That was the worst part. Because in your mind, he wasnât far away at all. He was right there, leaning against the wall, watching you with that half-smile, like he was about to say something completely insignificant and at the same time exactly what you needed.
The sun sank lower. The light turned more orange, heavier. Shadows stretched across the room, reaching all the way to the bed. Hours passed and you barely moved. Only once did you shift positions, only once did you get up for a glass of water, and then you fell back onto the mattress again.
Maybe this is it, you thought.
Maybe it was just one of those stories that only exist for a while. One stop between his next departures.
You closed your eyes.
And then â
HONK!
The sound tore through the silence of the house so suddenly that you jolted upright. Your heart instantly started racing. That wasnât an ordinary horn.
You knew that sound.
Before you could even think, your body was already moving. You slid off the bed, nearly tripping over the blanket, and rushed to the window. Your fingers tightened around the frame as you leaned out slightly.
He was there.
An old, rusty Volkswagen truck stood crookedly along the curb, like it had only stopped for a moment. The paint was faded, and one headlight glowed dimmer than the other.
Ewan sat behind the wheel.
One arm rested against the open window, the other on the steering wheel. He was looking straight at your window as if he knew exactly youâd appear there.
And then he smiled. Not wide or theatrical â just that small, familiar smile that suddenly made the entire month of silence disappear. Your heart jumped into your throat.
Everything happened too fast. You pulled on the first things you could find, a light top and shorts, not even bothering with your hair, which still fell messily around your shoulders. You practically took the stairs two at a time, your heartbeat thudding high beneath your collarbones.
In your rush you didnât even remember if youâd closed the door behind you.Â
He was still there. He hadnât vanished, hadnât driven away, hadnât turned out to be something you imagined half-asleep. The Volkswagen idled softly, and the warm late-afternoon air shimmered above the hood. The driverâs door was open. Ewan leaned his elbow against the frame like heâd been waiting a while, completely calm, as if this were the most natural place in the world to be.
You stopped for a moment on the sidewalk.
You looked at each other for several seconds without a word, without a gesture. Just the short distance between you, which suddenly felt strangely heavy after an entire month. He smiled first.
âAre you going to keep staring at me, or are you finally coming over?â
That finally pulled you forward. You hurried to the truck and immediately grabbed the doorframe to pull yourself inside. The cabin was cramped, smelling of warmed metal, old upholstery, and that same familiar scent youâd just breathed in from his jacket.
âGodâŚâ you murmured.
You hadnât planned it. Not at all. But instead of sitting properly, you simply moved closer and almost instinctively settled sideways onto his lap, as if your body already knew where it belonged. His hands found your waist, steadying you as the truck rocked faintly on its suspension.
âHey,â he said calmly, like heâd seen you yesterday.
That was what broke something in you. You leaned in and kissed him first. It wasnât a perfect, cinematic kiss. It was a little messy, a little too quick, more reassuring than seductive. Your fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt near the collar, like you were making sure he was really here, that he wouldnât disappear again. For a second he didnât move, surprised, and then he answered slowly, warmly, pulling you closer with a hand at your back.
You pulled away first, your breathing shallow.
âWhere have you been?â you asked, quieter than you intended.
His gaze moved across your face as if he were checking something. As if memorizing.
âHere and there.â
âThatâs not funny.â
âIt wasnât supposed to be.â
For a moment he said nothing, just brushed a strand of hair from your cheek. The gesture was so ordinary it tightened your throat. The engine hummed softly beneath you.
âEwanâŚâ you began, but he interrupted gently.
âCome with me.â
âWhat?â You frowned.
He smiled faintly, that half-smile that always meant trouble.
âLetâs go somewhere.â
âNow?â You glanced at the street, at your house, then back at him. âYou just showed up.â
âYeah.â
âWhere?â
âI donât know yet.â
It should have sounded like a bad idea. You shouldâve asked for details, for when youâd be back, for anything remotely reasonable. Instead, you just looked at him for one more second.
And nodded.
âOkay.â
This time he looked slightly surprised.
âThat was fast.â
âIf Iâd thought about it any longer, I probably wouldâve said no.â
He laughed quietly, the same low laugh youâd missed so much over the past month.
You slipped smoothly into the seat beside him. The truck pulled away from the curb slowly.
For the first few seconds neither of you spoke. All you could hear was the soft, uneven rumble of the engine and the rush of air slipping through the cracked window. The street drifted past outside, familiar houses passing one by one like someone flipping through old memories.
You werenât looking at the road.
You were looking at him.
He drove with one hand, the other resting loosely on the gearshift. He wore the same slightly faded T-shirt you remembered, the sleeves carelessly rolled halfway up his arms. Sunlight streamed through the windshield and cut across his face in warm light. His lashes cast shadows over his cheeks, and his eyes, focused on the road, seemed lighter than you remembered.
He noticed. The corner of his mouth lifted faintly.
His gaze flicked toward you, lingering with a soft smile and a brightness in his eyes that made you feel, suddenly and completely, at home. No words couldâve explained how much youâd missed him. And now he was here. Right beside you.
âYouâre supposed to watch the road,â you murmured.
He chuckled under his breath.
âI missed you⌠a lot,â he said instead, changing the subject. He did glance back at the road but only for a moment before looking at you again.
âMe too,â you murmured more quietly, your heart trembling.
For a moment he didnât answer. He just shook his head faintly, like something amused him more than he wanted to admit. His hand left the gearshift and, very naturally â like he did it every day â came to rest on your knee. You didnât move away.
The road began to lead out of town. Buildings gradually disappeared, replaced by fields and scattered trees. The sun dipped lower and everything took on a golden tint â the asphalt, the grass at the roadside, even the inside of the truck. You leaned your head back against the seat.
âWhere were you this time?â
He was silent for a moment.
âScotland. Then Norway.â
âAnd you just⌠came back?â You looked at him.
âJust like that,â he repeated, but more quietly this time. âI missed you.â
The word hung between you for several seconds. Your fingers traced the worn edge of the seat.
âYou didnât text once. I was worried,â you said. Your chin trembled for a fraction of a second; you knew you were close to crying.
âI know,â he answered.
You passed a small lake. The surface of the water was perfectly still, reflecting the orange sky. He slowed instinctively, as if the sight itself calmed him.
âI thought if I texted⌠Iâd want to come back right away.â
You turned your head toward him.
âI wanted to come back. Too much.â He glanced at you â brief, honest.
You didnât reply. You just slid your hand across the seat and, very shyly, rested it on his forearm. He didnât pull away. If anything, his thumb moved lightly, almost imperceptibly, across your hand.
The sun began to disappear behind the line of trees. The sky turned pink, then orange, and the air coming through the window grew cooler. You drove in silence for a while, but it wasnât the same silence as before.
This one was peaceful.
âAre you hungry?â he asked suddenly.
You nodded.
âDinner?â
You glanced sideways at him.
âDo ice cream count as a meal?â
He smiled immediately, like heâd been waiting for that exact answer.
âAbsolutely.â
A few minutes later, when the opportunity came, he turned into a small roadside gas station.
It looked almost too quiet. Nearly abandoned, if not for the lights glowing inside the building. No one was lingering around. Only one car stood by a pump. Ewan parked beside it so he could fill up as well. He turned off the engine and stepped out.
Before you followed, you reached into the small compartment near the gearshift and grabbed some change. The coins were cool from the ventilation. You closed your fingers around them tightly.
Youâd been sitting for a while â stretching your legs felt good.
When you stepped out of the truck, you notice the large banner hanging above the station. The neon sign over the entrance was already lit, attracting moths and tiny insects. The sun had fully disappeared now, so the artificial light picked out only certain details, but it was still bright enough to see clearly.
The air had turned cooler after the heat of the day. The asphalt still radiated warmth, but the breeze was unmistakably evening.
âIâll go get ice cream. What flavour do you want?â you asked as Ewan came around from the other side of the truck.
âVanilla.â
You smiled to yourself. You knew that would be his answer. Youâd only asked to confirm how well you knew him.
You turned on your heel and headed toward the building. The automatic doors slid open and you stepped inside. You glanced around before walking deeper into the small shop. At the very back were the refrigerators and⌠the ice cream machine.
Perfect.
You grabbed two cones. Just as planned. You slipped the coins into the machine and it whirred to life, dispensing pale, soft swirls. You rotated the cone carefully to make it come out even and perfect. Then you repeated the process for your own.
Stepping back, you walked between the aisles, picking up a few napkins from a small stand near the coffee station. One of the refrigerators hummed quietly, and somewhere in the back a device beeped in a steady rhythm.
The automatic doors slid open again with a soft hiss, cool air brushing your face. Outside, it was noticeably darker now. The sky had turned deep blue, with only a faint trace of sunset lingering along the horizon.
Ewan stood by the pump, leaning his hip against the truck. The nozzle had already been returned; he was just waiting. His arms were crossed over his chest, gaze drifting somewhere off to the side like heâd gotten lost in thought.
As you approached, you extended one of the cones toward him â deliberately handing him the nicer, more perfectly shaped one.
âHere.â
âThanks,â he said.
You both sat down on the curb. He spread his knees just enough that one brushed against yours. A small smile curved your lips before you took a lick of your ice cream.
Your eyes lifted to the sky. The sun was gone, but a pale glow still painted the horizon. In the opposite direction, the sky was already navy. When you focused a little more, you began to notice stars. First one. Then another. Then an entire scattering of them forming shapes you couldnât quite name. You didnât know much about constellations, so you couldnât tell which was which.
âHow much longer are we driving?â you asked suddenly.
âI donât think long,â he replied, biting into the edge of his cone.
âSo you donât even know where weâre going,â you sighed softly but in an amused way, not accusing.
Ewan laughed and nudged you lightly with his shoulder before looking at you properly. His eyes settled on you, warm and steady. And there it was again, that flutter in your stomach. The same one that always appeared when you looked at each other for just a second too long. In moments like that, you knew what real love felt like.
Without thinking much about it, you shifted a little closer and your lips met his.
It was sweet. Soft. Gentle.
Ewan followed the movement of your mouth easily, falling into your rhythm. Your breaths mingled. You could still taste the vanilla, and it made you smile against his lips.
When you finally pulled away, you laughed quietly.
âYour lips are freezing.â
âOh really? No way,â he teased, gesturing toward the melting ice cream in his hand.
You nodded, smiling, then shifted again. This time resting your head against his shoulder. You closed your eyes for just a second.
The night sounds seemed louder now. Crickets. The faint hum of distant traffic. Ewanâs steady breathing. In that moment, you felt like you werenât missing anything at all. Because you felt safe. Whole.
Ewan was your home.
A few minutes later, once youâd finished your ice cream, you climbed back into the truck and continued down the road. Ewan turned the radio on quietly, and you curled comfortably into the passenger seat, your legs pulled up slightly, gaze still fixed on the sky.
There were more stars now. So many it almost didnât feel real. Your smile appeared without you even noticing.
The drive passed far more pleasantly than youâd expected. Probably because you kept your eyes closed most of the time, just listening to Ewan talk about his travels. He shifted topics easily, and you had no intention of stopping him. You loved when he talked like that, when he just kept going. Even if you hadnât been there beside him, even if the distance had hurt, you loved how alive those trips made him feel.
He told you about mountains. About animals heâd seen. About people who had welcomed him warmly into a small house near the hills. It was funny â even though Ewan was wealthy, he preferred ordinary things. Simple, warm, homely places. Instead of a luxury hotel, heâd stayed with an older couple in a cottage not far from the mountains.
For a moment, you almost felt like youâd been there too. In all those places he described.
âAre we close?â you asked.
Not out of impatience â well, maybe just a little. Mostly out of curiosity. Youâd been driving for quite a while now. Night had fully settled in, and the sky was crowded with stars. Like grains of sand scattered across dark velvet.
âI think I found the perfect spot,â Ewan said.
You suddenly felt the truck turn, shifting slightly in your seat. The entire time youâd been positioned so you could only see the sky â not the road, not the houses, not even where you were anymore.
You had no idea where he had taken you.
You lifted yourself slightly in the seat, and your eyes widened when you saw what Ewan had found.
A small clearing stretched out before you, surrounded by old pines and oaks whose dark silhouettes rose like quiet guardians from the earth. The moon â still low, still young in the sky â reflected in the delicate drops of dew clinging to the grass, making it look like millions of tiny diamonds scattered across the ground.
The air smelled of damp earth and pine needles. A light breeze stirred the branches overhead, creating a soft rustling that almost sounded like whispering. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the faint murmur of a stream. The whole scene felt surreal. Like you were suddenly completely alone in the world, as if time itself had paused just for you.
Ewan stepped out first, his footsteps soft against the wet grass. When he turned toward you, the moonlight caught in his eyes, giving them a strange, almost hypnotic glow.
âCome on. You have to see this up close,â he said, and there was unmistakable excitement in his voice.
You climbed out of the truck and felt the cool grass beneath your feet. After a brief thought, you decided to leave your shoes in the car. With every step, small leaves and flowers brushed gently against your ankles. The clearing was perfectly round, encircled by trees, and at its center lay a shallow dip in the earth.
You tilted your head up toward the sky and realized the stars were even brighter here than before. Millions of points of light reflected in your eyes, and with every blink it felt as though the entire universe was smiling down at you. Ewan moved closer, and his presence made your heart beat faster. You werenât sure whether it was from the chill in the air or the strange, electric tension that seemed to hang between you.
At the far edge of the clearing was a small pond, its surface dark and glass-like, as if someone had poured a sheet of mirror onto the earth. Tree branches shimmered in its reflection, and the moon on the water looked as though it were melting into silver streaks you almost wanted to reach out and touch. The scent of moisture blended with faint wildflowers, and the silence was so deep that your breathing sounded louder, more deliberate.
Ewan reached out his hand. His fingers brushed yours gently, unhurried.
âDo you like it?â he asked softly.
âVery much.â
You stepped closer to him. Rising onto your toes, you closed the distance and pressed your lips to his in a sweet, lingering kiss.
âI love you, Ewan,â you whispered against his breath.
âI love you too,â he replied, holding you firmly in his arms.
Its so sad to watch my country slowly but affectedly fill with hatred towards another nation. I understand that Ukraine is sometimes arrogant, isn't sensitive abt our history in our relationship, but the politicians spreading hatred and nationalism in the media, LYING to our faces, using negative emotions in the country for their agenda, is NOT the way. And im so so sad to see my country go the way it goes, with LITERAL russian propaganda getting its claws on us.
And now we see its effects - people, WOMEN even, attacking Ukrainian kids because of their nationality. The freaking Member of the European Parliament, for who 1mln ppl voted on just year ago, whose party has almost 10% support, SETS ON FIRE Ukrainian flag. He uses hatred and is literally siding with Russia to deal with problems in the country. The same person who said that in Auschwitz there was no gas chambers..and people VOTE for this sick man..
Yet my real issue is, it may be extra controversial but got me thinking, what we, as a Polish nation, differ from Nazi Germany in 1930s in actions towards the other nations? When it too started with propaganda based on hatred, on national problems - it too got to the point where Jewish people were the victims of acts of hatred towards their nationality - the crystal night, etc...and we know how it ended..so the question brave to ask, where do we go as a country? Will we swim deeper into this lake, getting rid of every person that speaks the language of our west neighbors? I understand that some of them dont compell to our law, are obnoxious, rude, full of themselves, but there are Ukrainians who work for our economy, who where there before the war started, and now are the victims of the Russian propaganda (because that's what it is, and it's so scary that the voters of far right political group doesnt see this)..
Or even not speaking of Ukrainians, what does it say about us, Polish people, that we let Russia control us AGAIN? after 123 years of not being on the mapp because we were under three partitions, then after the WW2 almost 50 years of communism, under the boot of this insane empire..
Note: still in denial about ep 2... also, surprise! guess who broke free from her exam hiatus to churn this out in one afternoon sesh
@whaddupbaby
The early morning sun peeked through the sheer linen of the curtains, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. There was no birdsong, no familiar hustle and bustle of Jacksonâs populace, nothing beyond the peaceful stillness of the room.Â
As far as you were concerned, there was only you and Joel.
Your back was against his bare chest, his broad frame encompassing you from behind as you lay on your side, limbs tangled together like crawling ivy.
His mouth skittered down your neck, lips tenderly pressing unspoken âI love youâs into your skin, branding you with his touch.
âNo patrol today?â You mused sleepily, baring more of your neck for him.
âMm-mm.â Joel hummed in response, breathing you in and gently tracing indistinguishable, lazy shapes on your hip. He pressed a final kiss to your shoulder before resting his head in the crook of your neck. His words were warm against your cheek. âIâd rather spend a few hours with my wife.â
You smiled. âLucky woman.âÂ
âHer husbandâs even luckier.â He drawled, his rich, Texan accent reintroducing itself in a deep rumble the way it did only when he was half-awake.
âSomehow I doubt that.âÂ
âYou always gotta put up a fight, donât you, Mrs Miller?â Joel chuckled, kissing your cheek.
âSomeoneâs gotta keep you in check, Mr Miller.â You turned your head to meet his gaze.
And meet his gaze, you did. Two pools of deep brown stared back at you, steady, molten, and impossibly soft. Something about the way Joel looked at you made the world slow to a hush, as if the morning itself had bent to its knees, reverent to the quiet worship in his eyes.
It wasnât just love. It was a kind of knowingâlike he was memorising you in real time, committing the curve of your smile, the crinkle of your eyes, the sound of your breath to some sacred, secret archive he was happy to hold the only key to.Â
âBelieve me, maâam, I am putty in the palm of your hand.â His voice was low and gentle.
âYou big flirt.âÂ
Joel only smiled, slow and sleepy, like he had all the time in the world to love you, and no intention of ever stopping.
You brought a hand to cup his face, caressing his cheek and feeling the roughness of his grey-streaked stubble under the pad of your thumb.
And he took your hand, your fingers dwarfed in his, and pressed the softest of kisses to your knuckles.
âGuilty as charged,â He smiled widely.
You rolled your eyes, but failed to bite back a similarly wide smile threatening to form on your lips.
âSince you donât have patrol, does that mean we get a few hours to ourselves?â
âMhm.â Joel sighed, releasing your hand to run his hand along your side. âWhy? Got something in mind, sweetheart?â
The half-hard state of his cock against the small of your back informed you that he already knew the answer to his own question.
You, nonetheless, entertained him.
âMaybe.â
ââMaybeâ, huh? Care to elaborate?âÂ
âWhat are you, a cop?â
Joel laughed and slid his hand down to your thigh, gently hitching your leg above his hip, opening you up for him.
âAnyone ever tell you that youâre really bad at dirty talk?â He hummed in between trailing his lips along your shoulder, and slowly glided his hand down your front, below your navel, dipping under the waistband of your underwear just shy of where you were aching to feel the thickness of his fingers.
âYou want me to try again?â
âBe my guest, sweets.â
You placed a hand over his, interlocking your fingers and sliding it down, down, downâŚÂ
A low, almost inaudible moan escaped from his throat once he felt your puffy folds and the slick pooling from your aching cunt.
âIâm currently blanking on a witty one-liner, but I just really want you to fuck me silly.â
A murmured âfuckâ escaped his lips and he instinctively bucked his clothed hard-on against you.
Breathily, âyeah, I think I can do that.â
And that was how Joel ended up fucking you sideways at eight in the morning on a random Sunday.
One hand tilted your jaw up so he could suck at your pulse point as his cock lazily drove in and out of your weeping mound, held captive by his grip on your thigh splayed over his hips.
It was a good thing you were already dripping for him, because he held no patience for foreplay and endeavoured solely to feel your cunt wrapped around him. Usually, heâd take his time stretching you open with his fingers, but, fortunately, you were able to take all eight inches of him in nearly one thrust from the almost shameful amount of arousal you had collected.
Even more fortunately for you, an hour and a bit later, your godsend of a husband had managed to work four deliciously slow orgasms from you and showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon.
âMmm, feel so good, baby.â He whispered against your jaw.
You whimpered at his snail-like pace. âJoelââ A strangled noise tore out of you.
A noncommittal sound came from him in reply.
âFaster. Please,â
âSorry, sweets, no can do.â He tutted, sloppily pressing a kiss to the underside of your chin. âWanna take my time with this pretty pussy.â
True to his word, Joel continued his almost painstakingly languid tempo.
He'd slowly drive inâall the way to the hilt, the coarse hairs at his base tickling your inner thighs. And then heâd pause to feel your drooling, velvety walls clench and flutter around him. And then heâd pull out so far you almost believed heâd dare to leave you bereft of his weeping, swollen head, before gradually feeding you his length and restarting his seemingly never-ending cycle.
All the while, he softly mumbled sweet nothings beside you, his warm breath fanning against your cheek.
âThatâs my girl, taking me so well.â
âCan feel her stranglinâ me, baby. So fuckinâ tight.â
âThatâs it. Oh, take it, gorgeous. Yeah, there you go.â
âLook so pretty full of my cock,â
You were overstimulated, to say the least.
All you could feel was him, behind you, steadily fucking into you. All you could smell was sex and Joel; pine and musk and Marlboro Reds. All you could hear was the low rumbles of his husky baritone, your own heartbeat thudding in your ears, the obscene sounds of his length re-sheathing itself in your very welcoming cunt.
Slowly, in and out. In and out. In and out.
Tears pooled in your eyes, but you didnât notice. And even if you had, you wouldnât have cared.Â
With every leisurely thrust, his tip kissed your cervix, filling you with a familiar weight that felt like home.Â
Joel was your home.
And that thought repeated over and over in your mind like a broken record as he continued fucking you like you both had all the time in the world.
Home, home, home.
âYou feel so good,â You sighed.
âYeah?â Joel slurred. âFuck, baby. Never wanna leave this goddamn bed.â
Slowly, in and out.
In and out.
In response, you melted into him like butter on a warm dish, throwing an arm behind you to gently card through his salt and pepper curls.
Joel hummed and pressed a wet kiss to your temple before resting his chin on your shoulder, looking down at where you two were connected and letting out a low growl.
âYou see that, baby?â
âHm?â Your eyes fluttered, not registering anything except for the sensation of his big fucking cock.
Gently, Joel tilted your head downwards.Â
âLook how well you take me, sweetheart.â He sighed, his face right beside yours, his eyes watching the same thing. âLook at how sheâs just cryinâ for me.â
Fuck.
A creamy ring had formed around his baseâno doubt a salacious mixture of his pre-come and your slick, as you had already come a mind-numbing amount of times. And there it went, disappearing into your puffy, drooling cunt over and over and over...
You couldnât help but moan at the sight, unconsciously clenching around him.
âFuck,â Joel gritted his teeth and accidentally drove a bit too harshly into you, his cock dragging up your walls with a force he normally reserved for those special nights heâd fuck you like an animal in heat.Â
That wasnât his plan for this particular morning, but, as always, you had managed to make him lose control, if only for a second.
âJoel!â You wailed, throwing your head back.
Joel immediately shushed you. âI know, baby, I know. Iâm sorry, sâwas an accident. Youâre alright, hm?â He kissed your head. âGotta keep quiet, though. Ellieâs probably still asleep.â
You whimpered petulantly.
âMy poor girl.â Joel laughed airily, then lowered his voice to coo in your ear. âGonna give me one more?â
One more? Was he trying to kill you?
Evidently, you didnât need to voice such a concern, as it was apparently written all over your face.
âYou can give me one more, canât you?â Joel hummed softly.
A sigh. And then, you mumbled a quiet âyesâ.
"That's my girl."
Your husbandâs warm, calloused hand came to your clit, rubbing sloppy semi-circles on the bundle of nerves until you cried out and fluttered wildly around him, your millionth orgasm of the morning washing over you like a tidal wave.
And he kept slowly fucking into you as you reached you high, and still, after. Your consciousness barely hung on by a thread, and, at the rate he was going, that thread was in danger of snapping.
Slowly, in and out. In and out.
âJoel, tooâtoo muchâŚâ
âShh, baby. Câmon, hold out for a little longer for me, Iâm almost there.â Joel promised sweetly, pressing another kiss to your hairline. âPlease, baby, just a little more.â
You heaved out a breath. A faint sigh of exhaustion, possibly one of protest.
âJustâshit, just a little more, ând Iâll fill you up, hm? Fuck you nice and fullâŚâ
Joel was rambling now, his breath laboured, his eyebrows pinched in concentration, his eyes half-lidded and blurred with lust as he sawed up and out of you.
Slowly, in. Even slower, out.
Obediently, you nodded.
As promised, it took him a few more thrusts before he came with a gasp of your name, buried deep inside youâas deep as your walls would let him.
His pearly spend leaked out of your cunt (which was still stuffed full of him) as he planted kisses on every inch of skin his adoring mouth could reach.
âDid so good for me. My sweet girl,â He whispered, nudging the side of your face with his nose.
Hoarsely, you replied, âthink you just about killed me.â
Joel laughed softly and carefully angled your head toward him.Â
âCâmere,â He sighed, smiling.
And he tenderly slotted his lips against yours, tongue lazily slipping into your mouth and meeting your own.
And, draping a heavy arm across your waist, he pulled you closer against him, tangling his limbs with yours once more, and finding peace in the feeling of your body tucked into his.
And you both drifted into a warm, weightless sleep, letting the morning slip by.Â
Because, in the quiet tangle of shared breath and steady heartbeats, nothing else mattered.
Because the two of you had all the time in the world to love each other.
Summary: Sam has been your best friend since you were kids. When he starts avoiding you and acting strange, you decide to take matters into your own hands and things get steamyâŚ
Warnings: penetrative sex, shower sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (Sam receiving), handjob (Sam receiving), teasing, voyeurism, masturbation (Sam receiving), inexperienced!Sam, Sam finishes too fast, multiple orgasms (Sam receiving), thigh-fucking, nipple play?, slight dacryphilia, subby!Sam, edging, Sam whimpers a lot, maybe a smidge of degradation, Sam is down-horrendous.
Masterlist
Sam rested his forehead against the cool tile of the shower wall as he relentlessly fucked his fist. His eyes were squeezed shut, trying to block out the guilt as his mind raced with perverted thoughts.
It wasnât his fault, really. He hadnât intended on showering in your bathroom as an excuse to touch himself. You had just decided to wear one of his old t-shirts today and thatâŚthat had sent him over the edge.
Sam had been fighting off these feelings for a long time. If he was honest with himself, theyâd always been there. When you were kids, it was easier. He didnât understand the mechanics of all of it. He just knew he liked being around you more than anyone else, so he spent all the time he could with you. You were best friends, after all. That was normal.
Then, puberty happened. You developed tits and he developed an innate need to see them, touch them, taste them, anything.
It was harder now. You were both in college and still spending all of your time with each other. Every waking moment of Samâs was spent thinking of you, watching you, imagining all of the ways he wanted to be with you.
It wasnât that he didnât want to be your friend â he loved being your friend. You were the only person in the world that ever actually saw him for who he was. It was just that he couldnât escape these desires that grew stronger and stronger every time you smiled at him or batted your lashes or laughed orâŚ
Yeah, he was fucked.
He knew that he needed to get his feelings for you in check. His biggest fear was doing some dumb shit to lose you. Thatâs why heâd been trying to create just a little distance lately. He only resorted to that when he felt like he wouldnât be able to control himself around you. It just so happened that, lately, that was almost all of the time.
When heâd gotten to your place today, he had told himself that he wouldnât let his attraction get the better of him â that heâd be normal â but, the minute he saw you in his shirt he felt like he couldâve melted into the earth. It was so cute, hugging your frame perfectly and just barely covering those tight ass shorts you had on underneath.
Heâd tried to contain himself, he really had. He tried looking anywhere else but at you, tried thinking of every unsexy thing his mind could possibly dream up, but his efforts were all in vain. No matter what he did, his gaze would eventually wander back over to you. His mind would run wild with different scenarios. You in his shirt with nothing underneath. Him bending you over, lifting the material up just enough to take you from behind. Giving you more of his clothes to wear so that everyone knew you were his.
He hadnât even realized how painfully hard he had gotten or how labored his breathing had become until you asked, âAre you alright, Sammy?â
Fuck, he almost came in his pants from the sweet sound of your voice as you said his nickname that he only allowed you to call him.
He felt his face flame as his eyes widened and he pulled the covers from your bed further over himself to make sure his erection was hidden.
âY-yeah, fine,â he sputtered, trying to will himself to get a fucking grip.
âAre you sure?â you asked, reaching your hand out to touch his forehead. âYou look flushed.â
He had to fight not to moan as your skin came in contact with his, so soft and tender. Your eyebrows were scrunched up in that adorable way they did whenever you were worried about him.
He wanted to see them scrunched up for other reasons, for all the pleasure he knew he could give you if you let him try. He wanted to hear you say his name like a plea of desperation, begging him for more, more, more.
âI think I just need to take a shower,â he muttered, quickly getting up and rushing to the bathroom before you could see any evidence of his arousal.
He paced in the bathroom, fisting at his hair as he tried to calm down. This was getting a bit pathetic. He couldnât even be in the same fucking room as you without being embarrassingly close to coming untouched.
He stripped down, tossing his clothes to the floor as he stepped into the shower and shut the glass door behind him. He turned the water on to the coldest setting, cringing as he stood beneath it.
Câmon, this needs to work, he thought to himself as he shook from the cold. The icy water caused goosebumps to erupt on his skin, but did nothing to calm the raging hard-on that was still standing proud and aching. He groaned in frustration, hitting his head against the wall as he tried his best to fight off his arousal.
Finally, he gave in and wrapped his fist around his cock. He gave himself a few slow, guilt-ridden strokes as he squeezed his eyes shut. He hissed at the feeling, relief slowly flooding through his abdomen.
He knew that he shouldnât be doing this. Touching himself to the thought of you was already bad enough, but touching himself to the thought of you while you were in the next room? If only you knew how fucked up he truly was. Youâd never look at him againâŚ
He fought the urge to moan at the thought of your hand replacing his, or better yet â your mouth.
âFuck,â he whispered, biting his bottom lip as he thrusted into his hand.
He needed to get this over with. He needed to handle his problem and get back out there before you started to suspect that something was wrong.
He was desperately chasing his release but, despite how badly he wanted it, his own touch wasnât getting him there this time.
He needed more.
You had worn his shirt on purpose.
You were tired of him avoiding the situation â avoiding you.
It hadnât taken you long to figure out why heâd been acting so strange lately. Youâd noticed the way his eyes would linger on your form, the way his face would flush when you called his name, the way heâd try to discretely adjust himself in his pants when youâd get too close to him.
Youâd always wondered why heâd never had a girlfriend. It wasnât that girls didnât desire him. He had just always been oblivious to their advances.
In actuality, youâd realized, he was just too focused on you.
Youâd always harbored feelings for Sam. Ever since you were kids. He was your first childhood crush. Youâd never told him, though, too scared that heâd tease you relentlessly for it. It wasnât until lately that you realized those feelings had been reciprocated.
Once youâd made the realization, youâd started trying to push him further and further. Youâd hoped that he would snap, finally admitting to you what heâd been feeling.
He never did, though. In fact, he did the opposite. He kept avoiding you, frustrating you to no end.
You huffed out a sigh, looking over at the clock on your bedside table. Heâd been in the shower for almost twenty minutes. You gnawed on your lip, contemplating your next move.
Finally, with a newfound determination, you got up from your bed and walked toward your bathroom. You were tired of waiting for him to get the hint. Heâd left you no choice. You needed to take matters into your own hands.
You opened the bathroom door, shutting it behind you as you called out, âWhatâs taking you so long in here, Sammy? I have to shower, too, ya know?â
Sam yelped, startled at your entry. You could only barely make out his figure behind the frosted glass, but it made your heart race nonetheless.
âJ-Jesus, donât you knock?â Sam sputtered, his voice laced with nervous energy.
âItâs my house,â you retorted, crossing your arms as you leaned against the sink.
You heard Sam sigh before he said, âIâll be out in a minute justâŚgive me a second.â
You began undressing before you could talk yourself out of it. This was a bold move, even for you, but you knew that Sam needed something to be shoved in his face for him to realize what was right in front of him.
âYouâve already been in here for twenty minutes and I have things to do later,â you grumbled, pretending to be inconvenienced. âIâm just coming in.â
âW-what?!â Sam stuttered, his voice nearly jumping up an octave.
You opened the glass door, stepping into the shower as you tried to appear nonchalant. Sam quickly covered himself with his hands, his entire body flushing red as he looked up at the ceiling to avoid looking at your naked frame.
You took this time to unabashedly look him over. His cupped hands only left little to the imagination. You bit your bottom lip, drinking in the sight of him. Arousal immediately began pooling between your thighs as you stepped underneath the water.
You yelped at the temperature, jumping back and adjusting the valve.
âChrist, Sammy, why the hell is it so cold in here?â you asked, despite knowing exactly why heâd been taking a cold shower.
âI-I just like it cold, okay?â Sam retorted, attitude biting with his words.
You turned the knob until the water ran hot, letting the steam fill the confines of the shower. You sighed, contentedly, stepping back under the water.
âMuch better,â you breathed, practically moaning as the warm water washed away the tension in your muscles.
As the steam filled the air, Samâs head was spinning. It was suffocating. He was surrounded by your scent. It took everything in him to keep his eyes glued to the ceiling. Even the glimpses he caught of your body from the corner of his eye were nearly enough to make him fall to his knees.
He had a difficult enough time keeping it together around you when you were fully clothed, how could he be expected to keep his composure when you were naked and wet a foot away from him?
He could feel his still-hard cock pulsing beneath his hands as he tried his best to cover himself. He felt like heâd somehow entered one of his wet dreams. Confusion and arousal fogged his mind as he tried to make sense of what was happening. The two of you had never even seen each other naked, much less showered together.
He refused to let himself believe that this could mean that you wanted him the same way he wanted you. He wouldnât give himself that kind of false hope. He could only pray that heâd be able to get through this without making a complete fool out of himself.
You reached for the shampoo, lathering it into your hair. You smirked when you heard Sam breathe in a little too deeply. Glancing back at him, he still had his head facing toward the ceiling.
âYou donât have to break your neck trying not to look at me,â you laughed, rinsing the shampoo from your hair. âItâs not like youâve never seen tits before.â
âIâve never seen yoursâŚâ Sam mumbled, quietly, a new blush rising to his cheeks.
âMine are just like any others,â you shrugged, brushing your conditioner through your hair with your fingers.
Sam had to bite his tongue to keep from responding that nobody could be like you. He was fighting so hard to keep his gaze averted but now you were practically inviting him to look at you. Even on his strongest day, there was no chance he could pass up the opportunity. Heâd just look once, he told himself. Just enough of a glance to embed the image into his brain for when he jacked himself off to the thought of you.
He took a deep breath before stealing a quick look over at you. He involuntarily squeezed his dick, trying not to come on the spot. None of his fantasies couldâve prepared him for the way youâd look standing naked in front of him, water dripping from your body.
He forced himself to look up at your face instead of your tits â your goddamned perfect tits â but that didnât help his situation in the slightest. Not when you were smirking at him like you were privy to some secret that he was not. Or when you were batting your lashes, sending water drops down your cheeks. Then you bit your lip and Jesus fucking Christ he felt every cell in his body burn at the sight.
You couldnât help but giggle at the way his eyes fought between looking at your face and looking at your chest. You could sense the stress he was putting himself through, and almost felt bad for what you were doing. You werenât going to stop, though. Not when you finally had him right where you wanted him.
You moved to grab the bottle of soap, intentionally letting it fall from your grasp. Out of instinct, Sam reached out to catch it. You gasped quietly at the sight of his erection springing forward into view.
He was big. Bigger than youâd expected. He was hard and leaking, his tip red and aching. He followed your gaze down, his eyes widening as he realized what you were looking at. He quickly handed you the bottle of soap back, moving to cover himself again.
âYou know,â you started, smirking as you poured the soap into your hand, âif you need to take care of that, you can. I donât mind.â
âW-what?â Sam coughed, his face a deep shade of red. âNo! No way.â
âItâs natural, Sammy,â you shrugged. âI do it all the time. Besides, it looks real painful. I wonât watch if thatâs what youâre worried about.â
Sam wanted the earth to swallow him whole in that moment. He didnât think his skin could burn any hotter than it was right then. You were teasing him, torturing him.
He didnât know which part was worse â the way you said his name, the mental image of you touching yourself, or the attention you had paid to his predicament. His body felt like it was going to erupt into flames at any given moment.
You had to know. You had to. There was no way that all of this was just some random coincidence. The two of you had never breached that line of friendship and now, here you were, telling him to touch himself in front of you.
He couldnât do that. There would be no coming back from that. There would be no way that he could recover. Heâd come the minute he touched his dick if your eyes were on him, and how would he explain that?
However, you had said you wouldnât watchâŚand he did really really need the reliefâŚ
Sam bit his bottom lip, breathing heavily as he contemplated his options. He knew that he shouldnât, but the offer was so temptingâŚ
âYou promise you wonât watch?â
Your smirk grew as Sam gave in to his desires, just like you knew he would. You crossed your heart with your finger and Sam squeezed his eyes shut as his gaze was unintentionally brought back down to your chest.
Giggling, you turned back around to face the other side of the shower. You didnât miss the way Samâs eyes travelled down to your ass as you did. You began lathering the soap into your skin as you heard the wet sounds of his fist stroking his dick over the hum of the shower.
You bit your lip, focusing on the way he let little breaths escape him. You could imagine how hard he was trying to refrain from making any other noises. You wanted to hear him, wanted to know exactly how he was feeling.
Curiosity and the need to push him further getting the better of you, you asked, âAre you always this quiet when you jack off?â
He sucked in a breath and sputtered, âJesus, fuck, youâŚyou canât talk to me right now.â
You stifled a giggle, feigning innocence as you said, âWhy not, Sammy?â
âDonât say my name,â he practically pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.
âI thought it would help,â you laughed, done beating around the bush. âDonât you usually imagine me saying your name when you do this?â
You turned back around to face him, cocking your head to the side. His eyes widened and his hand stopped moving as his mouth opened and closed repeatedly.
Your mouth practically watered at the sight of him, chest flushed and heaving, his fist squeezed tightly around his erection.
âW-whatâŚI donâtâŚI havenâtâŚâ Sam stuttered, trying to come up with some kind of denial to your statement.
âOh, come on,â you huffed, rolling your eyes playfully. âIâm not oblivious and you arenât exactly subtle.â
Samâs face turned an even deeper shade of red as he squeezed his eyes shut.
âRelax, Sammy, itâs okay,â you said, beginning to slowly lather the soap into your skin. âKeep going.â
âWhat?â He gulped, eyes shooting open as they focused on the way your hands moved across your body in an agonizingly tempting motion.
âKeep going, Sammy,â you repeated, not taking your eyes off of him.
He released a shuddered breath, licking his lips as his eyes locked back on yours. Slowly, he began to move his fist again.
His jaw fell slack as his gaze followed the motion of your hands, teasing him as you trailed suds across your chest. His hand moved faster, his eyelids fluttering as a strained noise sounded from his throat.
âIs this what you think about, Sammy?â you taunted, moving your hands lower down your stomach.
Sam gasped, nodding his head as he muttered, âUh-huh.â
His chest heaved with heavy breaths, his hips thrusting into his fist. His hooded eyes were dark with desire as they traveled over your body. His movements became sloppy, his brows knitting together.
You could tell he was close, soft sounds involuntarily escaping his lips. His muscles were visibly tensing as his breaths started to come out in short spurts.
Youâd had enough of being a bystander. Every nerve in your body was alight with desire and you wanted to close the distance between you two. You were done playing this game. If he was going to come, you wanted it to be by your hands.
Sam let out an involuntary whine of protest as you grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from himself. His eyes widened as you moved him until his back was pressed against the cold shower wall.
âW-what are youâŚwhatâs happeningâŚoh, fuck.â
Samâs questions were silenced the minute you pressed yourself against him. He gasped, clenching his fists by his side, seemingly using all of his restraint to keep from touching you.
He looked down at you, his gaze pleading and questioning as he asked, âWhat is this?â
âI was tired of waiting for you to make the first move,â you shrugged, grabbing his face.
His brows furrowed, confusion etched into his features. His mouth opened and closed, as if trying to form the words he wanted to say.
âWaiting forâŚwhat do you mean?â
âGod, youâre so oblivious,â you mumbled, pulling his face down to yours and pressing your lips against his.
He immediately buckled, leaning into the kiss. He couldnât help but groan into your mouth, a sound that betrayed the intensity of his arousal. The pressure building in his groin grew, his need growing at an unbearable pace. He arched his hips forward, desperate for contact. You pulled back, biting your lip as you peered up at him.
Sam held his breath, the moment teetering on the edge of ecstasy. His heart hammered so loud that it threatened to drown out the sound of the shower. His eyes were dizzy and unfocused as he looked down at you. This was both the most exhilarating and most terrifying moment of his life. The anticipation was agonizing, maddening.
You glanced down at his pouted lips, as if daring him to make a move. His tongue darted out, flicking across them as his gaze moved between your eyes and your mouth.
Finally, after working up the courage, he leaned forward. You grinned as you tilted your head back, keeping your lips just out of reach. He furrowed his eyebrows, releasing a shaky breath before trying again. You let his lips barely brush against yours before you dodged him again, smirking at the teasing game you were playing with him.
He looked at you with pleading eyes, desperation etched into his features, as a needy whine sounded in his throat. He whispered your name, fists tightening as every muscle in his body tensed with longing.
âPlease,â he whispered, his jaw clenching with the effort to keep his composure.
With that one word, he completely crumbled your resolve. His eyes were dark and glassy with desire and unshed tears and you were prepared to give him anything he asked for.
You tangled your fingers in his wet hair, pulling him into a heated kiss. His lips immediately parted, devouring your own. He kissed you like he was starved, like you were his only source of oxygen after heâd been suffocating with need.
There was still a hesitancy in his actions, a part of him that was restraining himself. Whether it was out of fear or lack of knowledge, you didnât hesitate to guide him.
Your fingertips trailed down his arms, causing him to shiver. You grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips. He moaned into your mouth, his touch instantly beginning to wander.
The urgency in his kiss increased, his hands roaming your back, your sides, your legs. Years of built up tension came bubbling to the surface as you both began to drown in each other.
Samâs voice was low and husky, barely coherent against your lips as he whispered, âDonât stop.â
The pressure between his legs was a stinging reminder of his desperation. The need within him was leaking with each touch, each kiss. He reveled in the control you wielded over him. Samâs mind was lost in a sea of lust. This was a moment heâd dreamed about for years. The thought of it was almost too much, the entire situation overwhelming.
You guided his hands up to your chest and Sam wasted no time in palming your tits. He squeezed gently, kissing you with blazing fervor. When his thumbs experimentally swiped across your nipples, you let out a sigh of pleasure against his lips.
Samâs brain short-circuited the minute he heard your reaction. His hips surged forward, pushing his aching erection between your clenched thighs. He had been so worked up and the pressure provided just the right amount of friction. He gasped, letting out a strangled moan as he clutched onto you. His eyes rolled back as an orgasm ripped through him, instinctively continuing to thrust between the plush skin of your thighs.
Sam panted, slowly opening his eyes again as he came down from the high. His entire body flushed at the revelation of what had just occurred. He took in your amused expression, groaning in embarrassment as he buried his face into your neck.
You stifled a giggle, gently rubbing his back as you whispered, âItâs okay, Sammy. It happens.â
He whimpered against your skin, wrapping his arms around you. He was torn between wishing he could disappear, never having to face you again, and wanting to stay in this moment forever.
âBesides,â you smirked, leaning down to pepper gentle kisses across his shoulder, âIâm not finished with you yet.â
Sam inhaled, sharply, his breath hot against your neck. His body instantly responded, his arousal already stirring again at the prospect alone.
You grabbed his face, lifting his head back up to meet his gaze. His cheeks were still tinged pink, bringing out the bright blue of his dilated eyes.
You traced his swollen lips with your thumb and asked, âDo you think you can do it again for me?â
âMhm,â he responded, nodding eagerly. âIâll do anything for you.â
You grinned, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, âPromise?â
He pulled you into him, closing the gap between you so that you couldnât pull away again. He kissed you passionately, groaning as you bit down on his bottom lip.
âPromise,â he mumbled into the kiss, âanything you want.â
You reached up to grab his chin, tilting it to the side as you slowly kissed down his neck. His eyes fluttered shut, his body quivering at the tender attention. He cradled your head with a trembling hand, urging you on as your lips made their way across his skin.
Sam whimpered when you nipped at his pulse point, the hand in your hair tightening as you gently sucked a dark mark into the pale skin. You kissed across his chest, letting your hands run down his sides. He gasped as your teeth grazed over one of his nipples.
Your lips continued their descent down his body as you slowly sank to your knees in front of him. Sam let out a shaky breath, whispering your name as his legs nearly gave out.
You blinked up at him, water drops coating your lashes, as you rubbed your hands up and down his thighs.
âYouâll do anything I want?â you asked, kissing across his hips.
âUh-huh,â he rasped, licking his lips as he nodded his head. âAnything you want. I swear it.â
Your mouth watered as you sat eye-level with his dick that was steadily twitching back to life. He gasped as you took him into your hand, his fists clenching tightly by his sides. You slowly began to stroke him, watching as he bit his lip to try and hold back the sounds threatening to spill from his lips.
âThen I want to hear how good it feels, Sammy,â you told him, pressing a teasing kiss to the tip.
âShit,â he cursed, hardening again in your grip.
Your tongue traced a line up his shaft, slowly circling it around the head of his dick before taking him entirely into your mouth.
âOh, fuck,â he moaned, panting as he gripped the shower wall for support. âThatâsâŚa-ahâŚthatâs really good.â
The sight of you was overwhelming. He had only ever pictured you this way in his dirtiest dreams. You, on your knees with your lips wrapped around his cock, gazing up at him like the prettiest thing heâd ever seen.
âFuck, youâre perfect,â he breathed, peering down at you through hooded lids. âYour mouth feels so fucking good.â
You watched his chest heave as you worked him, using your hand to cover what your mouth couldnât fit. His fist was still tangled in your hair, but he didnât dare attempt to control your movements.
Samâs eyes rolled back as he felt himself hit the back of your throat, the sensation causing his hips to stutter. You swallowed around him and his entire body threatened to crumble. Strings of lewd moans and whimpers escaped his lips as his back arched off of the wall.
âOh, god,â he panted, throwing his head back against the shower wall, âIâmâŚfuckâŚIâm gonnaâŚâ
You pulled off of him and he let out a whine, thrusting to desperately chase your lips. You grabbed his hips, holding them still as you rose back up to your feet.
âWhyâd you stop?â Sam pouted, scrunching his eyebrows together in desperation. âI was so close.â
Your hands roamed his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart beneath it, as you looked up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes.
âI didnât think youâd want to stop before getting to be inside of me, but if youâd rather settle for my hands then I can keep going,â you taunted, cocking your head to the side.
âNo,â he croaked out, his voice breaking off into a desperate moan at the mere thought of that privilege. âI wanna be inside you. Please, let me be inside of you.â
He clutched at you, pulling you into him as he crashed his mouth against yours. You immediately responded to the kiss, parting your lips and tasting his tongue with your own.
Without breaking the kiss, you pulled him forward and switched your positions so that your back was now pressed against the shower wall.
You reached down, grabbing his dick and stroking it as you lined it up with your entrance. He gasped, breaking apart to rest his forehead against yours. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he looked down between your bodies, watching you tease them finally joining together.
âPlease, donât keep teasing me,â he begged, his voice hoarse with need. âI canât take it.â
You wrapped a leg around his waist and Sam held his breath, his mouth falling open as you guided his hips to slowly sheath into you. As his length filled you, stretching you out with a delicious burn, you couldnât help but let out a breathy moan.
Once he was buried to the hilt, his hips flesh against your own, he finally released his breath in a strangled whimper.
âYouâre so tight, fuck,â he breathed, unable to take his eyes away from the sight of you wrapped around him.
âFuck me, Sammy,â you whispered, watching as his gaze snapped up to meet yours.
His breath hitched as he nodded, his body trembling with nervous anticipation. He pulled back, almost completely out of you, before pushing back in with a slow, experimental thrust.
You both gasped at the feeling, moaning into the shared air between your mouths. He repeated the motion again, familiarizing himself with the way your body practically pulled him in.
His thrusts got faster as his lips found yours again in a heated kiss. You clutched onto his shoulders for support, feeling every nerve in your body ignite in flames of pleasure.
âYou feel so good,â you mumbled, arching into him. âSuch a perfect fit.â
Sam groaned against your lips, his hips picking up the pace. He pulled back to look at you, his eyes dark with desire.
âIâve wanted this for so long,â he confessed, the dam of his emotions suddenly breaking as he fucked into you. âI-I dreamed about you, every day. You were allâŚahâŚI ever wanted.â
âI know, Sammy, I know,â you panted, reaching up to kiss him again. âIâve always felt the same way, you were just too blind to notice.â
He whimpered at the revelation, his thrusts becoming more urgent. He grabbed your waist, using it as leverage as his hips snapped up into yours.
âFuck,â he whined, breathing out your name. âI-Iâm getting close. Iâm not gonna be able to last.â
âI need you to hold on just a little longer, Sammy,â you told him, earning a desperate whimper as his eyes grew glassy again.
You grabbed one of his hands, guiding his thumb to your clit. You moved it in slow circles, showing him how to touch you. He picked up the action quickly, moving his fingers on their own accord.
You moaned at the added stimulation, feeling Samâs hips stutter as you squeezed around him. Ragged breaths wracked through him as he tried desperately to hold on for you.
âWanna hear you, Sammy,â you prompted.
A single tear drop fell down his cheek from the sheer effort of keeping his climax at bay as he began to mindlessly ramble.
âYou feel so good. Squeezinâ around me all tight and warm. Could just stay buried in you forever. Never wanna stop. Iâll do anything to satisfy you. Anything you want. Iâll get on my hands and knees if you ask me to. Just wanna make you happy. Just wanna keep feelinâ you like this.â
He kissed down your neck, needing to occupy his mouth. He buried his face against your chest, gasping and whimpering as his movements chased the high he desperately craved.
âNo one else gets to have me like this,â you promised, feeling that familiar knot of pleasure tightening in the pit of your stomach. Each stroke of his thumb against your clit, paired with the tip of his dick repeatedly brushing that spot inside of you, pushed you closer and closer to the edge. âYouâre the only one I want, Sammy. The only one who can make me feel this way.â
He let out a strained cry against your skin, his fingers gripping the plush skin of your waist tighter.
âPlease, I need to come,â he begged, the desperation making his voice raw. âI need it, baby, please.â
The sweet sounds of his pleading was the final thread that unraveled the knot.
âCome for me, Sammy,â you breathed.
You felt the white hot pleasure course through your veins as you tightened around him, feeling your climax wash over you in a tidal wave.
He came with a cry of your name, clutching onto you as he continued to thrust into you. His vision seemed to black out as he finally let go, giving you everything.
The world around you seemed to fade as you both came down from the mutual high. Samâs body relaxed into yours, his hands still trembling as you both tried to catch your breath. You settled into a blissful haze, engulfed by the warmth of the shower.
You held him close to you, running your fingers soothingly through his hair as you smiled lazily, âYou done avoiding me now?â
âYeah,â he whispered, grinning sheepishly. He nuzzled into your neck, wrapping his arms tighter around you. âNever gonna avoid you again.â
âGood,â you responded, âit would be a dick move to avoid your girlfriend.â
âGirlfriend?â Sam asked, his head snapping up as he looked at you with wide, hopeful eyes.
âWell, yeah,â you grinned, biting your lip. âUnless youâd rather this just be a one time thing.â
âNo!â Sam interjected, quickly, shaking his head. âI want this to be an all the time thing. Every day. Multiple times a day, if possible.â
You rolled your eyes, giggling as you playfully shoved him. He laughed, his entire face lighting up with joy and relief as he hugged you to him.
âYou know, it was kind of a creeper move to barge in on me in the shower,â he joked, looking down at you with an amused glint in his eyes.
âHey, you were the one jacking off to me in my own house!â you argued, laughing as you poked his chest.
He grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles before grabbing your face and sweetly kissing your lips.
He hummed softly and whispered, âI donât think Iâll ever get tired of that.â
You beamed up at him, feeling your heart flutter in his embrace. You used up the remaining hot water to actually shower off, tending to each other as you did. You couldnât shake the feeling that this was how it was always meant to be.
Maybe itâs true what they say. Everything happens for a reason.
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