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annabethbigbang1050 words. warning for pegging and bottom!Sam. Sam/Jess. NC-17.
Jess had stretched him and stretched him, and Sam had to admit that it felt good, having her fingers pressing inside. But when she finally began to slide the dildo in, he tensed; this was different, felt too weird.
He clutched at the blankets and his toes dug into the mattress, but she passed her hand over his chest in a soothing motion.
"Trust me, baby," she whispered, and he listened to the cadence of her voice, wrapped it up and soaked it deep within his body. It calmed him. "You'll see. There's a reason why gay boys like being on the bottom, you know."
"Jess," he said, his voice a breathy pant. "I don't know—"
"I'm serious," she replied. "If you don't like it, I'll stop; of course you know that. But give it a chance. You do trust me, don't you?"
Her fingers were cool against the inflamed skin of his ass; his eyes were closed and he didn't even notice until she angled just so that they flew open, focusing on her face. Her bottom lip was between her teeth in concentration, her curls an unruly blond cloud against her pale skin. Her breasts were bare and hanging over him just a bit, a reminder that this was backwards, but he did trust her, and it was unbelievably erotic to lie back and feel her take the reins. To know that without the proper accoutrement she could never do this; somehow that filled him up with more excitement than apprehension.
"I love you so much," he said, barely breathing. She smiled, but the worry lines at her eyes remained.
"I know," she said. "I hope you'll like this. I really—" she stopped, gasping, hips jerking, and then grabbed each of his hips with her long, slender fingers. In so deep, then; he'd barely noticed the last few inches, so focused he'd been on her face, on her imperial beauty.
He reached up and touched one nipple briefly, barely; he caught his own lip in his teeth and groaned when she forced him up towards the headboard with an experimental thrust that sent the sex toy—shaped just like a real dick—against something inside of him that made sharp pleasure blind him momentarily.
"Sam," she moaned, and he wrenched his eyes open again to watch her; she tossed her head, sweat collecting at her temples and turning her hair dark as she moved over him. "Oh, baby, thank you," she mumbled through erratic breaths.
She rocked her hips and the toy moved inside him, dragging against places he'd never before had caressed by anything. Not even her fingers had ever made it that deep. It made him drink in air in great draughts, made him reach for her hips in turn. He squeezed them as she thrust, and then it crystallised as too much, he got hold of her well and good and flipped them.
Now on top, it felt even crazier and more different; this thing pressing up into him. He rolled his hips and felt pinpricks of sensation shoot across his nerves. He levered himself up just enough, and those pinpricks became starbursts that exploded over his skin.
"Sam," Jess moaned, and her hands fluttered at his sides, skated upwards and traced his ribs.
"Am I too heavy for you?" he asked, but she shook her head against the mattress; they lay on the bed at an angle now, her head not on the pillow, her hips sunk deep into the soft featherbed from his weight.
He began to move, learning the way it felt inside him, the way it shifted and tugged and stroked his inner muscles. This girl was amazing—he couldn't imagine any other girl asking to fuck him, or being able to take it when he decided to top from the bottom. He rocked over her, bracing his weight on his palms beside her head, trying to hold himself at least enough off of her to keep from hurting her.
But she arched her back, scored his skin with her nails and bucked into it; she ground herself against the base of the toy that rubbed her in all the right places and made another appreciative, needy sound.
One hand still smoothing up and down his chest, she circled his dick with the other and began to tug, jacking him in rhythm with his movements over her body.
His muscles strained, forearms flexing and shaking a little, but he kept himself from falling atop her; he sunk down until it went so deep he could feel it everywhere, a burn and bone-deep ache, and then he slid back up smoothly, slowly learning to love the way it felt. To crave each downward movement, to dread each time it slipped almost free from his body.
But she was making more noise now, almost crying out, and his dick was swollen and his balls were tight and tender and he knew—he knew—he was so very close.
She twisted her hand, flicked her thumb over his slit, and swivelled her hips all in one movement and Sam was done. He creamed her belly and her fingers, and he felt his inner muscles clench along the intractable length of the toy.
It was all too much, suddenly, and he yanked himself up, almost too fast; it pulled free and he caught himself again, rolling onto his side. Jess rolled too, touched his face, his lips.
"I love you," she said. "Didn't I say it would be good?"
"You did," he affirmed. "And it was. Oh my, it was." Sam kissed her, slow and sweet, completely unlike how filthy they'd been only moments before. His hole felt stretched and swollen and it ached a little, but in a pleasant, afterglow sort of way.
"Sam," she murmured, eyes closing. She clutched at him, showing a side of her he'd never seen, this neediness, this soft desperation. As if she thought when she woke he'd be gone.
"Did you come?" he asked; he'd been so caught up in his own orgasm he hadn't even had time to notice.
"Yeah," she said, sounding on the verge of sleep.
"I'll be here when you wake up," Sam said, though he didn't know if she heard. "I promise."
Jess had stretched him and stretched him, and Sam had to admit that it felt good, having her fingers pressing inside. But when she finally began to slide the dildo in, he tensed; this was different, felt too weird.
He clutched at the blankets and his toes dug into the mattress, but she passed her hand over his chest in a soothing motion.
"Trust me, baby," she whispered, and he listened to the cadence of her voice, wrapped it up and soaked it deep within his body. It calmed him. "You'll see. There's a reason why gay boys like being on the bottom, you know."
"Jess," he said, his voice a breathy pant. "I don't know—"
"I'm serious," she replied. "If you don't like it, I'll stop; of course you know that. But give it a chance. You do trust me, don't you?"
Her fingers were cool against the inflamed skin of his ass; his eyes were closed and he didn't even notice until she angled just so that they flew open, focusing on her face. Her bottom lip was between her teeth in concentration, her curls an unruly blond cloud against her pale skin. Her breasts were bare and hanging over him just a bit, a reminder that this was backwards, but he did trust her, and it was unbelievably erotic to lie back and feel her take the reins. To know that without the proper accoutrement she could never do this; somehow that filled him up with more excitement than apprehension.
"I love you so much," he said, barely breathing. She smiled, but the worry lines at her eyes remained.
"I know," she said. "I hope you'll like this. I really—" she stopped, gasping, hips jerking, and then grabbed each of his hips with her long, slender fingers. In so deep, then; he'd barely noticed the last few inches, so focused he'd been on her face, on her imperial beauty.
He reached up and touched one nipple briefly, barely; he caught his own lip in his teeth and groaned when she forced him up towards the headboard with an experimental thrust that sent the sex toy—shaped just like a real dick—against something inside of him that made sharp pleasure blind him momentarily.
"Sam," she moaned, and he wrenched his eyes open again to watch her; she tossed her head, sweat collecting at her temples and turning her hair dark as she moved over him. "Oh, baby, thank you," she mumbled through erratic breaths.
She rocked her hips and the toy moved inside him, dragging against places he'd never before had caressed by anything. Not even her fingers had ever made it that deep. It made him drink in air in great draughts, made him reach for her hips in turn. He squeezed them as she thrust, and then it crystallised as too much, he got hold of her well and good and flipped them.
Now on top, it felt even crazier and more different; this thing pressing up into him. He rolled his hips and felt pinpricks of sensation shoot across his nerves. He levered himself up just enough, and those pinpricks became starbursts that exploded over his skin.
"Sam," Jess moaned, and her hands fluttered at his sides, skated upwards and traced his ribs.
"Am I too heavy for you?" he asked, but she shook her head against the mattress; they lay on the bed at an angle now, her head not on the pillow, her hips sunk deep into the soft featherbed from his weight.
He began to move, learning the way it felt inside him, the way it shifted and tugged and stroked his inner muscles. This girl was amazing—he couldn't imagine any other girl asking to fuck him, or being able to take it when he decided to top from the bottom. He rocked over her, bracing his weight on his palms beside her head, trying to hold himself at least enough off of her to keep from hurting her.
But she arched her back, scored his skin with her nails and bucked into it; she ground herself against the base of the toy that rubbed her in all the right places and made another appreciative, needy sound.
One hand still smoothing up and down his chest, she circled his dick with the other and began to tug, jacking him in rhythm with his movements over her body.
His muscles strained, forearms flexing and shaking a little, but he kept himself from falling atop her; he sunk down until it went so deep he could feel it everywhere, a burn and bone-deep ache, and then he slid back up smoothly, slowly learning to love the way it felt. To crave each downward movement, to dread each time it slipped almost free from his body.
But she was making more noise now, almost crying out, and his dick was swollen and his balls were tight and tender and he knew—he knew—he was so very close.
She twisted her hand, flicked her thumb over his slit, and swivelled her hips all in one movement and Sam was done. He creamed her belly and her fingers, and he felt his inner muscles clench along the intractable length of the toy.
It was all too much, suddenly, and he yanked himself up, almost too fast; it pulled free and he caught himself again, rolling onto his side. Jess rolled too, touched his face, his lips.
"I love you," she said. "Didn't I say it would be good?"
"You did," he affirmed. "And it was. Oh my, it was." Sam kissed her, slow and sweet, completely unlike how filthy they'd been only moments before. His hole felt stretched and swollen and it ached a little, but in a pleasant, afterglow sort of way.
"Sam," she murmured, eyes closing. She clutched at him, showing a side of her he'd never seen, this neediness, this soft desperation. As if she thought when she woke he'd be gone.
"Did you come?" he asked; he'd been so caught up in his own orgasm he hadn't even had time to notice.
"Yeah," she said, sounding on the verge of sleep.
"I'll be here when you wake up," Sam said, though he didn't know if she heard. "I promise."
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Date: 2010-08-09 03:06 am (UTC)