Author: WildandLovely

I wake up to your thigh trapping mine, your arm wrapped around my chest, and your rocket-hot prick insistently rubbing up my leg. 

As I rub the sleep from my eyes, instinctively nestling into your grasp, I realise you’re still asleep. The moan that pulled me from my much more innocuous dream was merely part of a stream of rather precious noises you’d never admit to making if you were in control of your faculties.

I’m so busy being smug that one particularly committed grind of your hips pulls a choked sound from my body as my ass rolls to meet you behind me. The second the meat of my leg presses back solidly against your cock, you *growl*. 

Something in my brain snaps and I’m pushing you onto your back as you begin to come to. You’re still opening your eyes when I grasp your shaft in my hand, still feeling out reality as I guide your head around my entrance—to gather up the slick my sleeping body’s made for you—and up to my clit—to indulge just a bit—before plunging you inside me.  Read more »

You’ve loved me good, deep, firm, warm. Quite literally fucked the doubt out of me. I don’t know what I expected to be in its place, but rawness wasn’t it. You don’t mind.

You laugh a bit as you gather your nerves, start to extract yourself from my grip until I tighten my legs around you, my hands to the breadth of your back: “Stay. For a minute.” So, you settle back down, forearms framing my head, fingers reaching to brush the bit of hair in my face behind me. You keep the back of your hand against my cheek while you tell me stories of afternoons you’d like to spend together, evenings you’ve spent staring anywhere but my dress, singing me little songs, until I’m not quite so misty-eyed. 

“Ready?” you ask, a tilt to your smile. “Ready,” I nod, leaning into your palm as you brush one last dewdrop from my lashes. So, so gently, you break away from me, lean down, and gather me up. I’ve always felt like a weight but you raise me, one palm each under my shoulder and thigh, as if I lighten you just by the holding.  Read more »

You settle inside of me, moving a hand from its grasp on my breast to my cheek.

“Are you okay?”

The lust in your eyes doesn’t leave, but condenses to make room for concern. Different expressions of the same magnanimous care.

I feel my cheeks flush, attempting in vain to not meet your gaze. “I’m trying not to come yet.”

“Oh, honey,” you grin, tucking a bit of my electrified mane behind my cheek, tracing fingers to my chin, bringing my eyes to catch yours, “I plan on making you come again.”

Involuntarily, I clamp tighter around you. “And again.”

My hands lace around your back.

“And again.” You have to murmur this one because I’ve brought my mouth to yours, tightened my legs around your hips, bucked up to meet you with new abandon. Crushed words are followed by a smile. You live to make me fall apart. 

“Come on then,” you smirk, fucking deep and hard, forcing my body to make room for your presence. I grimace, my forehead rising to meet your shoulder.  Read more »

My head on your knee, I can feel rough denim on the corner of my ear. Your breath has hitched.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?” Your voice scratches through the air.

“Are you okay?”
Your thigh is frozen, little twitches shimmering through it.

“Yeah.”

I turn my head in towards your stomach, meaning to catch your eyes—but they’re closed. As my chin scrapes onto your thigh, you shudder. “Shit.”

My face is cradled on your legs. Your arms are charged and sealed, rock-solid, to the seat of the sofa.

Something’s pressing into my cheek.

Your eyes flash open, already apologetic, but I speak before you can. “Sweet, darling boy.” The sight of your blush-ridden face makes my heart swell. I decide to take a chance.

Turning my cheek, I drag my chin back across the lump on your thigh. You tense up, until I lean down and kiss the denim where you’ve swelled. I feel your warmth, and setting my cheek against you, I can hear your heartbeat. Read more »

I’d like to be lying next to you, my legs tangled around one of your broad thighs. I know they’re all muscle and bone. You know I grind subconsciously as I drift to sleep, and always offer yourself up to ground me. 

I’ve put my hand back on top of yours. I’ve wanted to hold it again since that night on the bridge. You twist your fingers into mine, softly holding on, allowing both of us to get just a bit stuck in this moment. 

My eyes are closed—I’m so tired these days—but you know I’d be looking at your very soul were they open, so you keep your gaze on me, just to be prepared. Like this, it’s self-preservation, but also a bit of protection on my behalf. If I wake up in your bed with any distress, you want to ease it. 

My way of coping with how overwhelming I find this, six months on, is to keep my eyes incredibly shut. Yours is to lean over, suddenly, and kiss my forehead. My nose. Slip your hand from mine to rest on my lower back, urging me to move my hips with a bit more intention. And I give in, because how could I not? Read more »

my thigh over your middle the muscled centre of you where all the good stuff is
(besides your face and hands and heart)
my lips on your nose my teeth on your nose your teeth on my chin
your lips on my chin your lips on my neck your tongue on my neck
your teeth (gentle) on my neck
your hands on my back pressing into two years of terror
your eyes in my gaze as my eyes say, brace yourself
my thighs suddenly grounding you
my hips on your hips
I play for keeps
you laughing at me
you nodding at me
you nodding as I speak the quietest I’ve ever spoken
your confident, cocksure voice
“I’m going to come,”
your hips still driving as I exhale your name
I wish I hadn’t said your name
I wish I wasn’t so starved
Maybe I wouldn’t have spent the morning in the back of my car
draped over you

“I didn’t expect or intend on this,”
I expected and intended on this Read more »