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Mornings like these always made you horny.

It was early enough that the rest of the world was still sleeping, with only the odd twilight bird sending their song out in the crisp air.

You washed your hands in the kitchen and downed a glass of ice water with lemon before you went to shower - hot, this time - with the intention of joining August back in bed.

This holiday had caused temporary tension in your couple, with August unwilling and unable to disconnect so soon after the mission being completed. It had nearly cost him his life and it had taught him some valuable lessons. It had also given him a great deal of perspective on what was really important and what mattered the most to him in his life. Which was why he was by your side, in a sparkling, colourful party destination.

You watched him before slinking under the covers next to him. He had finally been able to relax and get some quality sleep these past two nights. Rest erased ten years off his face, easily, and he didn’t look old to begin with. He just looked… more like himself in an amplified way.

Since you had left, he had taken off the light cover and fashioned himself a figure to hold on to. He slept on his belly, like a carefree child, and though the room was cool at that early hour in the morning, he didn’t look like he felt it. His metabolism was so high, he always burned to the touch.

Now it was no different, plus the two of you had spent the biggest part of the day at the beach the day before and his sensitive skin had been burnt slightly, despite your best efforts to cover him in sunscreen.

Instead of climbing in on the free side, you get in behind him, opening your towel and throwing it at the foot of the bed before gluing yourself to August’s back and starting to plant little kisses all over his back, from one shoulder to the other and returning to the middle, to the vertebra that protrudes visibly under the soft skin. You nuzzle the spot before your lips wander lower down his spine.

Damn, he smells so good to you. It’s this feeling of home that you get whenever you inhale his warm fragrance that’s worth fighting for in your book.

You stray further up, into the shorn hairs at the back of his head, running the tip of your nose through the raspy patch.

August is starting to stir, picking up on your touches and letting out a small purr-like moan. He did wake up much earlier than you, but only to use the bathroom before he could slip into the blissful sunrise sleep, the best kind, which is usually all too short on weekdays for working people.

“I could live with this being my every day.” He says sleepily. “You’re spoiling me.“


“No I’m not. Just evening the playing field.” You whisper, kissing the spot right under his ear. “I haven’t forgotten all of last week. I can still feel last week.” 


You reach under the pillow and retrieve the little bottle you keep there, squirting some of the glittery gel out and applying it where it’s needed.

August smiles and stretches like a cat, arching back and twisting a bit so he can initiate a kiss.

“I want you,” you say. “It feels so empty without you. You’ve spoiled the little beastie.” 

“Maybe I just trained it to respond to me and me only.” He says, the grin spreading enough to make his moustache nearly turn into a straight line.

Kissing August is always such a trip in itself, the way you can feel his smile in the kiss, and how an instant connection forms when his lips are on yours. It doesn’t feel forced or theatrical or like a struggle for domination - it’s just heat and affection rolled into one very pleasurable expression.

Soon, he turns fully, facing you and wrapping you in his arms, rolling you towards the middle of the bed and kneeling up between your legs.

“You smell so good… of Lush shower gel.” He remarks, one hand moving to your pussy, fingers parting you with long caresses. He smiles at finding you ready for him. “I wish you’d trust me enough to let me take you in, not the Lush scents.” He says softly. His tone is not a reproach, more like… hopeful.

This time, you had to shower. To get rid of the consequences of your little errand from earlier. 

“You know that I do. Or at least, most of the time. I got better lately. And it’s all your merit.” You say, spreading your legs further apart and closing your eyes briefly, to selfishly focus on the feeling of his two fingers currently sliding inside you. So wet, so open for him. No one you’ve ever been with was ever met with so much enthusiasm from your body. “I crave you pretty much all the time.”

He raises an eyebrow and smiles.

“That is very high praise. I’d best live up to it.” He says, using his free hand to pluck your nipples into hard little peaks.

He slowly runs the tip of his cock along your slit, getting it well lubricated, sighing at how it takes his entire restraint to not just plunge into you. But he has the kind of dick that can’t visit without sending a calling card first. In time, you got used to his size, but the first few occasions ended in frustration for both and in private panic for you, because nature shouldn’t require the help of a fat blunt to get you relaxed enough to take your boyfriend’s cock inside.

But then again, maybe other women wouldn’t have had the ambition of fitting all that inside them in the first place.

“August… I’m good. I’m ready, love.” You tell him and he takes your hand in his free one, squeezing softly before positioning himself and sliding in slowly. He knows you love the feeling of him stretching you out as he enters you and he tries to make it count before bottoming out and resting inside you, giving you more time to adjust.

You wait for your body to fully give in, and while you do, you busy yourself mapping his body with your hands, up his arms, feeling the corded, hard muscle, along his collarbones and down his chest, rubbing over his nipples with your thumbs and feeling them respond before you gently pinch them.

August purrs under your touches, closing his eyes and smiling, pushing himelf closer to your fingers, wanting you to touch him more. He's so unapologetically responsive and not afraid to show you his need, which only spurs you on more. 

He settles on top of you, his arms on either side of you as his hips are flush against yours. He starts to move slowly, still mindful of you needing time to adjust.

You try the position out, reaching around you and squeezing his ass with both hands. Flashbacks from two nights before play out in your mind and you feel your core tighten in sudden white-hot arousal.

The lube you applied earlier does its job as you slide two fingers inside August, slowly, circling his entrance first before dipping one finger in, then the other.

He sighs and curses under his breath.

“Oh fuck, that’s good. I was expecting it to burn. That’s a great lube.” He says, looking down at you with an expression that is all “win”.

“I told you so,” you say, not smug though. Just happy he loves it as much as you did.

“Go on, I can take it. Keep it at two for now though.” He says, briefly closing his eyes when you do as he says and press your fingers deeper inside him, searching for his prostate.

When you do find it, you not only feel it, but he lets you know with a moan and a sharp jerk of his hips into yours.

“I might not last much,” he warns you, his eyes darkened and heavy-lidded.

“I’m getting all I need from this, don’t worry. This is about you.” You whisper, rubbing over the spongy spot inside him.

Soon, your fingers in his asshole are driving his thrusts. And there’s no way you won’t come.

He looks divine like this. Lips parted, thin sheen of sweat giving his skin a shimmering glow in the early morning sun, abs retracting and expanding sharply with exertion, his thigh muscles shifting against the backs of your thighs - what a god your boyfriend is, you think, pressing harder down with your fingers the next time you rub over his spot, watching and feeling him fall apart.

And fall apart, he does. His hip motions become stuttered as he empties himself inside you and his arms give out. You retrieve your fingers carefully and wipe the excess lube on the sheets before wrapping him into your arms and holding him through his shivers and little twitches. His weight on top of you is an extra treat that’s over way too soon - he climbs off of you as soon as he regains control of all his limbs. 

“That was… I have no words.” He says, eyes closed, moving closer so he can rest his head on your shoulder. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” You say, feeling something deep within you give a squeeze of utter and perfect satisfaction.

You spare a thought to the three assassins you dispatched earlier this morning. No one gets to ruin your romantic holidays with your gorgeous boyfriend.

END