diary entry: april 2013, S He leans back against the pillow..
🕑 Added 2023-10-30 02:19:58 +0000 UTC
diary entry: april 2013, S He leans back against the pillows, a lazy smirk sprawling across his face, and comments that you seem happy and you smile because you are. You lean down at kiss him, tuck your knee between his thighs, watch him curl his lips around your nipple and tug gently, his eyes closed. Pure happiness is warmth, is the smell of him in your sheets because he sprayed cologne on your pillowcase while you were brushing your teeth on Sunday morning (misguidedly romantic bastard). His eyes widen with that burning flare as he guides himself into you, deliciously slow, and his taut face looks even better when framed by your legs. You like being on top, rocking against him hard and slow and watching his eyes flicker back, his chin grit as he tries to breathe. But you like it more when he kisses down your back, skin sensitive and shivering under his lips, and your knees slide on the mattress as he fucks you like that, hands tight at your hips. He wants to make you come, and fuck if you don’t get close, your fingers gripping the sheets in the effort not to make too much noise and annoy off your flatmate. It is so hard to let him go when he declares he needs to leave or else he will pass out here on top of you. "The sex..." you brag to a friend later on.
