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“Will you just- stay- still?” he growled, rolling around so she couldn’t push him face-first back into the pool of lube. Again. He ran a hand down his face, and then pushed his hair back, listening to the cheers of ‘Pen, Pen, Pen!’ around him as he did.
He was wondering how he even got himself into this damn mess. Something to do with a dare and a tequila shot. Something to do with the damn house party Michael fucking Sterling had cajoled him into coming to. Something to do with ‘What, you think I can’t beat you at lube wrestling, Colin Bridgerton?’ Something to do with his stupid, hopefully charming quality of never backing down from a dare or a challenge.
Something to do with Pen being the same. That’s why they were best friends, after all.
“Make me!” she replied, gleefully, skidding forward as he tried to stand up to lunge at her and upsetting his balance so he went back on his knees in the pool, his swim shorts riding up and all but plastered to his body. People were laughing, red solo cups in their hands, avoiding the splash of the lube and keeping a good 4 foot radius away from the pool so as not to get messy, themselves, the tarp already in shambles.
“Oh, I will,” he promised, throwing his arms around her middle and pushing off the edge, knocking her onto her bottom as he did so. She shrieked, her hands scrabbling for purchase on his forearms, trying to dislodge him, but he refused to let go. Pen, unlike him, was all huggable curves and soft spaces to find grip. He, in contrast, felt more like an aquatic animal, more seal than man, in the moment- with nowhere for her to hold onto. Everywhere she grabbed him, he managed to slip away, much to her whining.
Pen’s advantage was simple, however.
She never stopped moving.
“Let me go!” she demanded, squirming beneath him, and his knees kept widening from around her hips, his face pushed into her ample cleavage as she bucked up and did her best to get him off her.
God help him, now was a terrible time for him to be all too aware of the fact that he’d been burning a torch for Penelope Featherington, his closest friend of over a decade, for well over a year and a half now.
And that she didn’t feel the same.
“ Fuck no, stop moving!” he demanded, gritting his teeth and trying desperately to focus entirely on winning. She’d eat her words and he’d prove, once and for all, that she would most definitely not be able to beat him in a wrestling competition. He’d have bragging rights for ages.
“Fuck you,” she cackled, having all too good a time jamming her hips up against his to dislodge him, her legs scrambling to find any purchase at all on the slippery floor of the kiddie pool.
“Fuck me yourself, you coward,” he grunted, then yelped as one of her feet seemed to find some sort of anchor and she used it to whirl them around. He gasped, the breath knocked out of him as she tossed him on his back, his hold around her middle loosening as she sat atop him with a wild grin.
“Oh, what was that?” she teased, worming her legs beneath his and locking her feet around his knees, her hands coming to pin him at the shoulders.
“No fair!” he complained, moving to sit up, but his palms slipped every time he tried to find leverage, and she was positioned just at his lower belly, making a sit up all but impossible. At least she couldn’t find any grip on his skin, her fingers scrabbling to hold down his shoulders as he tried to shake her off. Just when she tried to hold him down once more, he bucked and she slid off, careening forward so her nose smushed up against his chest. He threw his elbows beneath her armpits, holding her close to him, and he felt her gasp as he did, trying to rock side to side as though a turtle stuck on his back, but she fought him at every turn.
There was something about the competition that, until that moment, had him able to separate the utter closeness they were experiencing, but that gasp- it did something to him. She slid back and onto his hips, the glide so effortless, and his heart thundered as she settled herself right atop where he was most sensitive.
“Colin-” she breathed, voice exhausted as she squirmed above him, and suddenly, he needed to not be there. He needed to be anywhere but there. Anywhere.
Which just meant he needed to win, most handily, and retire to a quiet, private room, where he could handle the situation he just got himself into.
“Stop fighting, Pen,” he grunted, clasping his hands together behind her back and doing his best to get her under him so he could properly pin her and be declared the winner. Surely, he looked ridiculous, moving like an eel under her.
There was a grin in her voice. “Never,” she said, and then- she ground down on him.
He released his hold on her immediately, the shock of it spearing from his hips to his heart and then back to his lower belly, swooping heavy arousal in a shimmering pool at the base of his spine with a swiftness and intensity he couldn’t have possibly anticipated. He choked, but his body was working against him, now, rising up to meet hers in a sinful slide that he’d remember when fucking himself for weeks.
“Pen- holy shit-” he managed to squeeze out, before she hauled herself up, finding a somewhat scraped clean portion on each of his arms from when he’d had his grasp around her, and digging her weight into him.
The ref, now seeing that he was at a distinct disadvantage, started to count down, slowly.
“3-”
God, she was playing dirty. Her breasts swayed in his face, and he could only look away for a single moment to her grin, knowing and unrelenting and evil , before he felt her grind down against him, again, and he was suddenly all too aware of his rapidly hardening erection.
“2-”
He tried moving from under her, but she held fast. He was bucking, but it was as though she was anticipating it, riding the wave his body made, and he shivered beneath her.
“Stop fighting, Colin,” she taunted him, bending her elbows so she could say it close to his ear. It ricocheted through him as if she were talking dirty, and he screwed his eyes closed, deciding that- damnit, if he was going to lose, he may as well at least enjoy it.
He would have whimpered if he didn’t have the tiniest shred of dignity left.
“1-”
At least he could make her experience it, too. Instead of trying to dislodge her, he met her at the middle, rolling her onto his lap slowly and he felt her grip tighten on him as she gasped again, this one colored with something else. She moved away, just far enough for him to see her eyes, sparking- bewildered and wild and-
“0- Penelope is the winner!” the ref, one incredibly drunk Fife, called out, to the whoops and applause of their audience, and his chest heaved, the exhaustion and adrenaline catching up with him as Penelope got off him, struggling to her feet, near dazed. He sat up himself, bunching his legs up and desperately hoping no one was noticing that he was definitely sporting a hard-on after wrestling his best friend in a tub full of lube.
He groaned. Thank God for Michael, who was grinning and shaking his head, tossing him a towel that he promptly wrapped around himself so he could stand up.
“A crushing defeat. We all knew you stood no chance,” he said, joining in on the claps for Penelope as Fife lifted one of her arms, awarding her a cheap plastic medallion on a blue ribbon. It settled over her cleavage as she beamed, her suit plastered to her body by the lubricant, and he tore his eyes away when he felt his cock twitch.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, ducking under his friend’s attention. “Gonna go get cleaned up.”
And then he ran to the confines of the bathroom with a swiftness only rivaled by the wind.
It was overwhelming, how quickly he closed the door and had his swim shorts and towel shucked off. They were clinging to his body, lube dripping down his belly and his arms and sluicing his legs. Inside his shorts, he had been throbbing, so hard that when he pulled them off, he bounced against his stomach. He felt his pulse, hard and hot, when he took himself in hand.
“Fuck,” he hissed, no friction to speak of as he squeezed at the base, sliding up and twisting his fist at the tip, already reddened and leaking. If he’d known this was the state she’d leave him in after such a solid victory, he would have declined, just for his dignity.
Actually, no he wouldn’t, because thinking of her atop him, her eyes wild and determined and competitive, her tits swaying right at his gaze, just teasing for her nipples to be in his mouth, made his entire body throb. His knees weakened and he breathed her name into the suddenly too humid air of the bathroom, knowing he should be changing and washing off in the shower instead of fucking himself thinking of his best friend, who most certainly was not interested in him like he was interested in her.
Right?
He thought back to her eyes right before she won, he was sure he saw-
He moaned, rocking into his own hand, imagining it was hers. She had such small hands, always loving to press her palm against his and comparing them, seemingly enjoying how he dwarfed her. The numerous times she’d pulled a ‘Tarzan’ on him alone was absolutely endearing, but it was nothing compared to how she’d look at him, faux pout on her mouth, complaining of how unfair it was.
The image of her pout morphed in his mind, those torturous, soft, sweet lips across his collarbones and his throat, her tiny hands exploring his chest and running down his belly, grasping him and teasing the vein on the underside of his cock. He whimpered, remembering her weight on him, her pleasant curves in his grasp. He wanted to be back in that stupid fucking kiddie pool, thrusting his hips against hers, grinding into her, teasing her to a wet, sloppy mess.
“Pen,” he breathed, panting, his free hand clutching against the wall, looking for purchase. “Pen, Pen-” He jolted at the bang of the door, his eyes flying open and gasping- “Pen! Shit-” he said, eyes wide as he locked on her, the door closing behind her as her back pressed to it, staring at him. He froze.
He didn’t lock the fucking door? God, was he that turned on and mindless?
He had no doubt she was aware of the effect she’d had on him, how she left him, but he still flushed and colored at the fact that she’d caught him. His lower lip wobbled and he released himself, not sure what to do with his hands. He wished he had the decorum to at least go soft, but he was harder than ever, looking at her. If he was a gentleman or had any sense at all, he’d probably reach for a towel, say he was trying to get the lube off, but seeing her there, dripping slick onto the floor, it made his cock twitch, and her eyes were locked on it.
Pen bit her lip, and then she licked them. When her eyes connected with his, they were blown wide and dark, all heat and desire. It was the same look she had when she’d mounted him and won, and it hooked in his stomach and clawed at the base of his spine, made him spin out and yearn for her gravitational orbit.
God, she was hot. She was flushed and perfectly rounded, her hair all but plastered to her shoulders. Her bikini top was sticking to her skin, her hardened nipples on prominent display, the medal long gone. He saw the way her skin shone in the fluorescent lights and whimpered.
“Well,” she said, her voice deep and rumbling and gravely, “at least I’m not the only one.”
“Pen,” he repeated, the breath sucked out of the room as he slumped against the wall. It should be awkward. Really, it should, but she had just been all over him and he was so damn horny , he couldn’t find it in him to feel shame. “Pen, please-” he ground out. Please- stay and help or leave and spare me the embarrassment. Please touch me. Please don’t go. Please come here. Please please please.
It was only because he knew her that he realized she looked like she were torn, watching his chest heave, her gaze coming down, over the curls stuck down on his stomach, to where he was wanting for her. Then, back up.
Whatever she had been thinking of in that moment, it seemed to snap in her, and her eyes pooled heavy and hot.
“Please- what?”
He wanted for the bravado he had in that kiddie pool. Then, as though answer to his prayers, her previous statement hit him- ‘ at least I’m not the only one’. His brows went up, his arousal deepening and skewering in his chest. He took in how her chest was moving, her thighs rubbing together, and he felt the smile curl over his face.
“Are you turned on?” he asked, watching her swallow. Her chin lifted, the pride in her sparking.
“So what if I am? Pot, meet kettle,” she replied pointedly, looking at his dick.
“So maybe I can help,” he offered, shooting his shot. A year and a half of imagining her in the dead of night, spilling into Kleenex and going through way too much Aveeno, just piled up into the perfect moment.
Pen bit her lip, the moment stretching, then- “So come here and help me, then.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Hell, he almost slipped and fell on his ass with his fast he made his way over to her, pressing her between his body and the wall, the two of them sliding against each other with a sigh, and crushing her lips to his. His hands fought to hold her face, skidding over her skin, running down her neck, over her shoulders, her back, her arms, her nipped in waist and her ample hips.
He couldn’t get his fill of her, sliding himself against her perfect, plush stomach, the only friction when he bumped against the needless fabric of her bottoms. He bit her lip, opening her mouth with a gasp as he dove in, running his tongue over hers and tasting her, sharing her breath.
Pen gave as good as she got, arching off from the wall and exploring his back, her fingers discovering the sensitivity of his neck, the shiver of his side. She dug just under his shoulder-blades, making him moan and mutter against her mouth, breaking away from her only so he could kiss down her throat, lavishing her with attention, making his way to her tits and undoing the clasp on the back of her suit.
He waited a moment, but it didn’t fall away, and a chortle bubbled in his chest. She clicked her tongue, going to peel the fabric off of herself, but he beat her to it, cupping her and making her jerk.
“I’ve wanted to hold these for ages ,” he admitted, and she fluttered her eyes closed, arching so her weight settled more into his palms. He teased her with the fabric, squeezing slightly, moving the flimsy cups over her slick skin.
“Merry Christmas,” she muttered, and he laughed, shucking her top off and depositing it in the ruined pile of his shorts.
“Best present I’ve ever gotten,” he replied, taking a second to look at the perfection of her. Her breasts were heavy and flushed, swaying slightly with how she arched, and his thumbs rubbed just beneath, soothing the line the band cut into her skin. Her nipples were a delicate pink, flushed deeper and pebbled, and licked his lips, leaning forward and licking between the globes. The taste of lube and her skin mixed, neutral and slick, more a pleasant texture in his mouth than anything.
He released one so he could rove his touch down, skimming her side and rubbing the outsides of her thighs, teasing her.
“How did I know you’d be a little shit about this, too?” she managed to breath out, widening her legs and wriggling in his grasp, obviously wanting for more than he was giving her. He grinned, slowing even more.
“At your service,” he told her, hot breath upon the peak of her hardened nipple, licking a circle around her.
“Col-in,” she said, perhaps trying to be chastising, but he found his way under the side of her bottoms, snapping the elastic against her side where the high-waisted pair settled.
“Yes?” he asked, trying his best not to grin, enjoying having her in his grasp. He’d imagined a million different scenarios, a million different moments. Imagined having her against a wall or in the tub, settling her on a counter or in his bed.
And in all of them, he took his sweet, damn time.
He never imagined she’d be so needy and ready, though.
“Colin, god, I thought you were going to help me, ” Pen said, that innocent tone in her voice, the light plead, spearing through him the way it always did. She knew just how to get him into trouble.
“How can I help you, darling?” he asked, instead of giving in. Kissing her nipple sweetly. She sighed at the feeling, one of her hands coming to the back of his head and moving him forward once more, as the other grasped his hand and brought his touch between her legs, turning them so he was the one trapped against the wall.
“You know how,” she informed, then, as though she didn’t want to, she said, in a much smaller voice, “ please.”
It undid him, melted everything inside of him to pure need and tenderness. “I’ve got you, Pen. I’ve got you,” he said, finally opening his mouth and sucking her in, spiraling around her skin with his tongue and loving how her grip on his hair tightened. She pulled at one of the bows of her swimsuit bottoms, undoing them, and he removed those, as well, gently cupping her.
It was more than he could have ever imagined. She was so warm. Her mound was soft and rounded, the perfect shape for his palm, and she opened to his attentions, two of his fingers settling between her lips with no pressure at all, sliding through effortlessly.
She panted and his back slid against the wall, barely held upright as he glided over her, feeling the swollen rise of her clit between his fingers as they settled lower, feeling at her opening. Experimentally, he circled, shallowly dipping in, the heel of his palm knocking against her most sensitive apex. “Fuck,” he murmured, pulling away from her nipple so he could look up at her, all gooseflesh and heat, “Penelope, you’re soaked - is that all lube or is that for me?”
Pen moaned, her nails skimming over him. “Both?” she breathed, then rocked her hips into his touch. The glide was so addictive as he dipped deeper and deeper, soon dragging two fingers into her ready entrance, spreading her. He could feel how wet she was inside, all but dripping from her and pooling into his palm. She kept canting her hips forward with the barest tremble as she did, the angle having her throbbing and making him shudder. There was a knot of need in his stomach that she was unraveling precariously quickly.
“Both?” he teased, circling inside her, spreading his fingers and clutching her to him, grasping her ass and guiding her as the heel of his palm smoothed over her clit. She shivered and he licked between her tits once more, slowing. “Or mostly me?”
She breathed out, an annoyed and needy noise, but he grinned, kissing from one of her breasts to the other, lavishing attention to the one he’d neglected and purposely pressing forward against a swollen, soft hitch inside her, all wet silk and soft slickness and need, trapping her as she bucked. “Colin-” she said, her legs shaking and then melting, her weight leaning against him as he continued, unrelenting. She dissolved into heavy breaths, soft ‘ah’s as she leaned herself onto him, her throbbing quickening around him. “Right there- that’s amazing-”
When he felt her hand come to the v of his hipbones, he stilled, tried to arch away from her and straightened as he did, smugness slipping. “Pen- no- not yet-” he managed to stutter out, trying to hide the nervousness by thrusting into her, stretching her more fully around his digits.
“Wanna feel you,” she said, rubbing her thumb on his sides, unable to find even a patch of flesh that wasn’t slipping under her touch.
“I’m not gonna last,” he warned, “you’re driving me crazy.”
She used the fact that he was now standing to kiss over his chest, settling fully onto his hand, running the edge of her teeth against his skin and bouncing gently, taking everything he was giving her. “I want you in me,” she said, licking his nipple in a spiral and making him gasp, the knot in his gut tightening as she ghosted a bite over him.
“Oh God- how?”
“Mmm?” she asked, spiraling from his touch, unwinding him and making him spin out.
“How do you want me in you?” he grit out between his clenched teeth, grinding his palm against her and then, with one final press to the front of her walls, he slipped out of her, much to her annoyance.
“Colin!” she admonished, but he was already sinking down, his back sliding against the wall, especially as he’d been hunched down to reach her. She sank with him until they were on the ground, his ass cold on the tiles as she settled over him, groaning.
“Doing a victory lap?” he asked, his erection trapped between them as she sat upon him, mirroring her win earlier. She groaned, deep in her throat, her hands flattening on either side of his head as she swirled her hips and used him for her pleasure.
“ I’m the victory lap, you sore loser,” she teased, and he wanted her so fucking bad. He chuckled, grasping her back and easing her rhythm, noticing she couldn’t find purchase on the floor with how slippery her knees still were. Instead of rising above him, she kept splaying out, her weight comforting on him. She ground down, clearly wanting more.
“I think we’re both going to be sore after this,” he quipped, reaching down and grasping her cheeks, spreading her as best he could with both of them still so slick. They’d made the bathroom their own kiddie pool covered in lube, and as usual, he was impossible to hold onto. She continued trying for purchase, both frustrated and endeared.
“God, you’re like a dolphin ,” she muttered, and he laughed, rocking her up and down with the way it made his belly ache.
“Should I make the noise?” he asked, guiding her in a back and forth motion, easing her firmly over his hard on. He found that, with her weight on him, the crush and warmth was easier to handle than a slick glide. He skid his touch over her, kissing her jaw, her ear, the hollow of her throat.
“Don’t you dare,” she warned, but there was a laugh in her voice, edging out the annoyance of being unable to find good leverage. “Colin,” she whined, as he sucked a bite on her neck, feeling her throb. “I want you in me.”
“I want that, too,” he muttered, laying his tongue flat and licking up the side of her, leaving teasing nibbles in his wake, needing to focus on her or he’d be done in barely a minute. Each motion of them left a lewd sound and he was going to die if he didn’t get inside her.
“I- god, just get in me, already,” she commanded, and he grinned.
“Thought you wanted to be on top?”
“I’m the one with the victory lap, Col,” she reminded, her head lolling back so he could kiss beneath her chin. He slicked his palm up, collecting more lube as he did, and grasped her crunching curls in his fist, easing her back up so she could look down on him.
“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, eyes locked on her. “I’ll give you anything you want, Pen.”
Her lips parted as she looked down on him, swiveling over him, her hands finally dropping from the wall. She settled them, so gentle, over his shoulders. She blinked down at him, legs splayed wide, surrendering. “Fuck me,” she said, and it shivered through him as though a lightning strike.
“How? How do you want me?” he asked, thumb rubbing behind her ear.
“On the floor- I want you on top. Fuck me, Col.”
“Oh, God, yes,” he said, and then, he was pushing off the wall, lifting her from his lap, even as she threw her arms around his neck and gasped, holding on for dear life. He laid her down softly, straddling her, his own knees slipping as he tried to find a dry patch on the floor with which he could find leverage. Instead of finding it, he pressed the flat of his foot to the wall, using that to anchor him as he settled between her thrown wide knees, letting her ease her grasp around his neck until her arms settled on either side of her head, giving him the chance to lean back.
He took a moment just to look at her, and she raised her hips to let him do so more easily. “You’re so pretty,” he said, the honesty of it bubbling out of him as surely as a plume of smoke. One palm came to her stomach, appreciating the sweet softness of her, slipping down and splaying wide. His thumb ghosted over her apex, his other hand coming to the inside of her thigh and spreading her, staring at how her lips almost stuck together with how wanting she was. He groaned, deep in his chest, feeling it in his belly and his bones.
Her cunt was pink and drooling, swollen soft with lovely red, wet curls. There was an enticing glisten over her mound, and he noticed how, as he looked at her, she seemed to grow more aroused, a throb becoming more evident. He was biting his lip, near salivating.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, but her voice already sounded so wrecked, her thighs twitching, perhaps wanting to come together and alleviate the ache that was surely settling there.
“Like what?” he asked, licking his lips, rubbing a smooth spiral over her clit, watching her jolt and bite down on the pleased sound.
“Like you want to swallow me whole,” she answered.
“I do,” he said simply, tearing his eyes away so he could look at her, hungry. No, no: ravenous. He wanted to taste her. He wanted to eat her on the floor. “You look so fucking good, Pen. You probably taste amazing. Every part of you is amazing. Look at how open and ready you are for me. Look at how perfect .” He slipped his thumb away, bringing it to his mouth and making a show of licking her need clean from it, and she squirmed against him, much as she had when they were wrestling.
“ Colin-” he cut her off with a moan, and her sigh was serrated as she watched him. “God, Colin, please- you can eat me later, just get. in. me.”
He popped his finger out of his mouth, bringing it back to her clit, swirling and wanting another taste. “You’re so good on my tongue, Pen,” he said, instead, ignoring her neediness. She whined, lifting her hips up repeatedly, following the trace of his touch. He slid between her lips, collecting her want at her entrance, slipping in for just a moment, and it was enough to make her go feral.
“ Now, Colin,” she demanded, grabbing his upper arms in a scramble and tugging him down and forward, bumping their hips together haphazardly. She sighed happily as she did so, one of her legs coming around him and pressing her foot into his lower back. “In me. Now.”
He kissed over her throat, curling in so he could lick over her breasts once more, determining that this was a new favorite of his. When he sucked her nipple back into his mouth, she keened, nails digging into his arm and dropping down to his lap, having had enough. He felt her grasp him and he wiggled his hips back to give her some space to line them up with each other. Instead of pushing him forward, she rocked up and onto him, splitting herself with the most intoxicating whisper of his name as he delved into her. “ Finally,” she said, settling to him as he bit down the insides of his cheeks, desperate not to spill into her then and there. “Oh, god, you’re big.”
He moaned helplessly, screwing his eyes shut. She was so wet, so slippery, so slick. He’d never felt anything like it before. Maybe it was the lube, maybe it was just her, but no one had ever been so responsive to him before, and her praise puffed him up and clenched his chest. She was incredible.
“Pen,” he murmured, kissing back up her body so he could settle his lips to her ear, starting up his rhythm within her. It was so easy being with her, so right. “Pen, you feel amazing- I feel you fluttering around me. Dripping.”
“It’s for you-” she said, urging him with her own rise and fall, “you make me so wet.”
“Oh, fuck-” he needed to sit up, needing to see her. He locked eyes with her for a moment, traced down to where she was panting, her chest bobbing up and down. Looking at her stomach, the soft, heavy arc of her, all round tenderness, he imagined how far inside her he was and bit his lip so hard it could have bled. “You’re so hot- holy shit, you’re taking me so well, baby,” he praised, looking down to where they were joining. The force of his thrusts within her made her back skid against the tiles, her skin sheening with sweat and lube, barely any friction between the two of them at all. He pressed a hand to her splayed thigh, urging her wider as the smack of his hips onto hers reverberated in the room. She gasped as his thumb came back to her clit, thrumming and stroking her.
She choked his name, but there was a frustration there, too. “Colin- Colin- please-” He could see she was chasing her need, her body rolling to meet his, and he swirled around her clit, watching as her stomach tensed and then relaxed, listening to her whimper. He breathed hard through his nose, slowing down, much to her whine.
“Tell me what you need, baby,” he all but begged, feeling her throbbing around him as he leaned down, biting at the underside of her jaw and unable to get enough of her. Her body was dripping in his hands, the entirety of her slipping against him as though she were a rivulet of water personified. She was all lush curves and soft skin, pliant and tender beneath him, and it made his head spin. No one had ever made him feel so wild and desperate like she had. “Tell me what you need and I’ll do it, anything. I want you to feel so good, Pen.”
Pen’s fingernails dug into his shoulder and he hissed, edging closer to his finish, but he refused, clenching his body, trying to force himself to think of anything that would help him last.
“Don’t stop,” she breathed, “don’t stop moving-”, and he resumed thrusting into her, more deeply this time, though. With each pull back, he nearly left her entirely, watching the head of his cock at her entrance. He held still, teasing her to a mewl, before pushing in all the way, right to the base, watching her jolt. “ Yes,” she hissed, “yes, like that- more .”
“Like this? Do you like it hard, gorgeous?” he asked, fucking her more forcefully, one of his hands coming to anchor on her perfect tit, worrying the peak between his first and middle finger. She moaned, low and deep, he felt it rumble beneath his hand, looking back at her face to see her nod, eyes locked on him and face aflush.
“Yes- I like it hard- it feels so good- you feel so good-”
“You like when I fuck you into the floor? I feel you sucking me in. Tell me you love it.”
“ God, Colin, I love it- I l-love it- yes,” she stuttered, her other leg scrabbled for purchase against his side, trying to hitch high up and slipping over and over. Finally, he released her breast to palm her at the underside of her knee, pressing it to her chest and putting most of his weight behind it. She squirmed for a moment, the position opening her to him, and the lewd sound of their joining intensified. The inhale she took in was desperate, her own leg rubbing at her nipple, the force of the new position squeezing the air from her lungs. He felt her soften further around him, swallowing him into her body with wet slaps and then- “ Oh- ” she gasped, clenching down on him when he pressed all the way, fluttering as he rocked back- “Oh- oh- fuck-” a splash of liquid, soaking his thighs as her head tossed side to side.
His mouth popped open as he reared back, still pushing her knee to her chest, looking back to where they were joined and watching as he came to her entrance once more, rolling his hips hard, aiming forward, and seeing another spurt of her cum leave her with a whimper. “Holy shit, Pen-” his voice was wrecked, his thumb a near blur on her clit as she pushed her leg into his hand, her eyes rolling back. “Holy shit, did you just squirt? That’s so hot- oh god-”
She didn’t answer him with any intelligible response, only gave a half sob as she continued chasing her orgasm, her body tuning tight. “Please- p-please- pl-ease.”
“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you. Oh God, cum for me, go ahead. You’re amazing, oh fuck oh fuck, Pen, squirt on me again, please, drench me, you’re perfect-” he babbled, and he felt her hands scrape his back to a raw nerve, fingers coming around and to his throat, her chest heaving as she searched for anything to anchor her. He could barely see straight, his very blood on fire and pulsing her name. “Fuck , the things you do to me-” he groaned, pistoning in her with sloppy, needy thrusts.
Were he in a better state of mind, he’d be more mindful of how she’d clench and flutter intensely every time he came to her opening, but it was accidental, how he’d left her body with a messy stroke, only for her to spurt squirt when he entered her once more. “Shit- shit, shit shit- Pen, please,” he begged, repeating the motion over and over, everything between them slippery and sloppy and desperate.
She was beyond talking back to him, only answering him with broken ‘yes’s and ‘Colin’s and ‘please’s, and he couldn’t keep looking because he was on the knife’s edge and she was so close, he could feel it, but he was closer, his balls tensing, his entire body shaking. He careened forward, kissing all over her throat, blindly rolling his thumb over her clit, even as he kept slipping out of her, his cockhead kissing her clit, stopped by his hand, before he rolled his hips back and forcefully entered her again, each time met with more of her slick coating his thighs.
When he kissed her again, it was as though she were more storm than woman, and he was so fucking thirsty, ready for her rain. Her mouth gaped open, short pants carrying a shrapnel of her approval and arousal, and he devoured her, biting at her lip and running his tongue against hers. He ground down each time his thighs clapped against her, sweat dripping down his jaw, tasting salt on her mouth.
She tensed and tensed until she froze, completely motionless, her very breath seemingly caught in her chest, and then, with a wail and a tremble, she came apart in the most magnificent gush. It stole the air from his lungs, her entire body shuddering, feeling her thigh quaking beneath his hand, and she soaked him to the knees, gasping and breaking from his kiss, utterly electric.
He didn’t even know his name , in that moment. She was a hurricane, wet and awe-inspiring, and in the crux of his palm. The obscene sound of their fucking was punctuated by the splash of her cum, and he nearly lost his leverage as he dropped everything he was doing to wrap around her, his face taking refuge in the juncture of her shoulder, his palms worming to palm her ass and cant her hips up so he could chase his own need, moaning so loud and so lewd, not knowing what he was saying before he emptied into her with tears in his eyes from the relief.
“Oh, god, Pen- Pen, Pen, Pen,” he whispered, breathing her in and feeling her milk him as he all but prayed her name. He must have stayed there for an eternity, barely feeling as her knee slipped to the side from between them without his hold on her, wanted to stay there for even longer, buried deep in her body, their chests together, every inch of them joined and entangled as though they were two hands with fingers twined, a DNA helix wound together, two strands of thread braiding into one. He breathed her name even as he softened, even as he twitched, barely aware of the cold tile on his aching knees and how the lube was drying to a sticky glue between them two.
Pen didn’t say anything at all but he realized she was holding him, too, as sense finally returned to him. He felt her smooth over his back, tracing his spine, as her other hand pet his hair, swirling his slicked down locks back into curls. “ Pen,” he breathed, fluttering his eyes closed and basking, knowing he would need to move soon.
She cooed, gave a contented sigh, but when he moved, intent on slipping out of her and cleaning them up- she squirted , for God’s sake, it was the most erotic thing he’d ever been privy to, so he was damn well going to lavish her, after- she whimpered, held him a tiny bit closer. “No,” she said, and it was so small. He kissed her neck, nuzzling, gave a questioning sound. “Don’t- please don’t leave.”
He squeezed her cheek in his palm assuredly. “You don’t want to clean up?” he muttered, exhausted. He felt her shake her head, just barely, hunching over her. Slowly, he lifted his head, moved away from where he’d been hiding away at the crux of her throat. He looked down upon her, managing to wriggle one of his hands away so he could smooth her curls from her face, searching the vulnerability in her eyes. Her face- she was gorgeous. She always was, but now, she was a goddess. She was as though a creature from myth, from legend. She was a siren calling him from the depths of the ocean and he would drown willingly. She could ask for anything and he would give it, gladly. His heart beat not blood, but her, thumping Penelope, Penelope, throughout all of him.
“I- I don’t want to be empty,” she confessed, and he dropped his gaze to her lips, “I feel so full with you in me.” He groaned, a dull throb of arousal dripping inside him once more, rendering him unable to resist dipping down and claiming her lips once more. She moaned delicately against his mouth, meeting him in a tender, gentle press. The sound of their kiss echoed, and he had to go in for another and another, insatiable in his need to drink his fill of her. She cradled his face in her hands, guiding his angle as she took what she wanted from him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, between kisses, just as unwilling to part. She was so warm and he wanted to be inside her for every day, every hour, every minute, every moment of his life from now. Hell, he’d buy the fucking house just to stay in that bathroom. “I won’t leave.”
She hummed in approval, muttering his name, and then pulled away to try to rest her head against the cold tile of the bathroom. He didn’t let her, slipping his hand beneath so he could cushion her, and she let him, allowed him to lavish her with gentle pecks over her forehead and cheeks. Her giggle was sweet and made his stomach fizz in joy as he praised her. “God, you’re amazing,” he began. “So beautiful, so kind, so trusting- you’re sinful.”
Pen laughed, and the feeling of her beneath him, shifting just slightly, confirmed that they were all but stuck together. Instead of feeling disgusting, he felt it was only right- they were meant to be glued like this. “Sinful?”
“ Sinful, ” he repeated, nipping beneath her ear, nuzzling her. “God, Pen, you squirted all. over. me. Do you have any idea how long I’m going to be thinking about that?”
He pulled away to see her flush coloring, her freckles standing out a sweet, delicate brown against the pink. “Oh,” she said, eyes darting off to the side. “In a. . .good way?”
He gaped at her, astonished she needed to ask. “A very, very, very good way,” he confirmed, blinking down at her, wanting for more hands, just so he could soothe her. Having known her for so many years, he knew when she was feeling fragile. “Are you. . .okay?”
“Oh,” she said, blush deepening, “yeah. Sorry. Just- never- uh. . .I never-” His brows furrowed. He knew this wasn’t her first time, their years of friendship and conversations was his witness. Then, as though a lightning strike, realization dawned on him. The light in his eyes, the way his smile spread until it was a deep grin, something new and awe-struck in his chest. She groaned. “Don’t-”
“You never- what?” he pushed, all teeth and giddiness. He had to bite at his lip, his cheeks aching. This was the biggest ego stroke of his life. She groaned once more, clearly wanting to cover her face up.
“You already know.”
“Say it- oh my god, please , say it.”
“You’re- ugh, I’ve never done that before,” she admitted, her mouth scrunching to the side as a laugh bubbled between his ribs. He felt as though he were made of fizz itself, like he’d whisk away.
“Done what before?”
“You are the worst, Colin,” she complained, rolling her eyes good naturedly, shimmying her hips and reminding the both of them that he was still inside her, an act of God itself, since they were so slick, any more movement would forcibly separated them. “I’ve never squirted before, okay? The worst.” Her eyes flashed for a moment, but he adjusted and sunk the slightest bit more into her, even as the afterglow cooled.
“Maybe so,” he said, more tender now that their position came fully to the forefront of his mind. “But you’re the best.” He cradled her head, his thumb delicately swiping behind the pink shell of her ear. He felt like all the world were laying beneath him. Oh, God, he understood all the love poetry, now. Neruda and Keats and Angelou-
He sighed, all sugar, his heart in his eyes as he looked upon her. Perhaps the place to recite poetry wasn’t in a random bathroom at a house party when they were caked with dried lubricant, but he knew, now, he would spout love songs at her in any street, in all company, covered in whatever variety of fluid- though, hopefully hers. Her smile tipped up at him, and suddenly, it seemed the anxieties that had been festering were shorn away.
“Can I be your worst, though?” he asked, gentle in the rapid cooling of their embrace, never wanting to unstick himself from her, knowing it would have to come, regardless. Her eyebrows went up, something contemplative in her eyes.
“You’re already my worst,” she said, cautiously, and he shook his head, needing to clarify. Surely, after this-
“No- I mean- can I- can I just be yours, then?”
“My what?”
“Yours,” he repeated, blinking down at her, unable to understand how she could possibly misunderstand him. “ Yours. I want to be yours.”
Her lips formed a little ‘o’ of surprise, much like when she’d surprised both of them with her gush, and the memory of it made something in his gut clench.
“You- is this because- you don’t have to, you know,” she broke out, and were she not under him, starting to squirm now, he’s certain she’d be fidgeting with her hands clasped in front of her. Odd, considering he was currently plugging her up with his cum, her own dried upon his legs, for her to be suddenly so shy.
“I know I don’t have to- I- for God’s sake, Pen, I wouldn’t have done this with you if I wasn’t interested in you,” he confessed. “I think I’ve been interested in you for a long time.”
“Interested in sleeping with me?” she asked, archly.
“No- well, yes, but-” he wanted to run a hand through his hair, he settled for playing with her own. “Pen- Pen, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you,” he finally laid out, and her eyes widened.
“I- you’re in the afterglow-”
“I think we’re well beyond the afterglow, actually,” he cut in, because if the situation were to turn even the slightest bit more sexual, he’d start to harden within her once more, and he’d have her against the floor again. They were past afterglow. “I mean it- but-” His heart throbbed in his chest, realizing with a cold dunk of his guts that- oh, fuck, that she may not feel the same way. Just because he wouldn’t have done that with her were he not interested, didn’t mean she was interested. It made something in him go numb. “Oh- oh, shit, I’m sorry.”
Her brows furrowed. “Colin?”
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to- to pressure you- I- fuck, I get it, you don’t feel the same way and-”
She looked bewildered. “The same way?”
“It’s okay, I- shit, I was so presumptuous, I’m sorry.” His cheeks and ears colored in shame and embarrassment. He couldn’t look at her, staring at the tiles of the floor, and his face pinched. He should slip out of her. He should- he had to lick his wounds alone. But her hands guided him back to lock on her gaze and she searched him, her knees still locked around him, an intent look on her face before something broke, like clouds coming away from her eyes.
“Oh,” she said. “ Oh- you-” she laughed, the sweetest, smallest giggle, and his flush carried down to his chest, his forearm shaking, feeling small. “You’re serious- you- you love me?”
He closed his eyes. “It’s- is it that funny?”
She laughed a little more, then muffled it, surely clamping down on her lower lip the way she always did when she was trying to hide her mirth. “Oh, Colin, I’m not- haha, I’m not laughing because it’s funny,” she assured, and then he felt her weight leave his palm as she lifted her head to gently brush their lips together, a muffled “I love you, too” on his mouth. He gasped.
I love you, too.
I love you, too.
“You do?” he asked, and she clutched him more firmly, humming a ‘mmhm’ against him, and then something in him snapped and he frantically fisted her flattened curls, rolling against her like a wave, opening his mouth and making pleased, giddy noises, matching her giggles. “Oh, god, I love you,” he said, breaking against his teeth and onto hers. In his fervor, he shifted above her and finally slipped out, tasting her gasp as he did. They broke apart and her eyes flickered down.
“Oh-” she said, her hips rocking up. “Oh wow- I feel you dripping out of me.”
He groaned, his entire body twitching in need at the way she worded it. Not his cum, not his seed, him , him dripping out of her. Fuck, he wanted her again. He’d never stop wanting her. “I’ll have to fill you up, again, then.”
She made a little whimper, clearly involuntary, that had him hot. He imagined it- she seemed to like the idea. Maybe he’d keep her filled all the time, either with his cock or his cum. She’d be left dripping with her own arousal or his, and he’d never leave her wanting. All that lube did something to him. He leaned down to kiss her once more, but there was a knock at the door, making them both jolt.
“Hey! Next round’s just about done! Gonna need the bathroom, soon,” someone said, and they both looked from the door to one another, having to clamp down on their laughter. Pen had a better grasp and called out a ‘Be out, soon!’, that he knew was absolutely a lie, they’d need a good 20 minutes just to clean up the mess they’d made on the floor.
Only when the footsteps receded did they both burst into chortles. “Oh my god, we’re never gonna be invited back,” he gasped out between cackles, removing himself from her as though they’d been velcroed together. The noise it made, dried lube, sweat, cum, made him laugh harder. As he settled back on his haunches, he watched her sit up in the puddle she’d made and it shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, but it coursed through him.
“You want to be invited back?” she asked, but then squeaked as he grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and settling his cheek upon her crown. She breathed against his chest before she melted against him, nuzzling and snuggling in close.
“What I want,” he said, all love and ease and mischief, “is to take you to your flat and make you squirt all over your towels and your bed and my lap and in my mouth. Do you want that, too?”
He barely had to ask, he already knew the answer. She pretended to think. “Hmmmm. . .where would we sleep after all that?”
Colin planned out the timeline of the night: they’d clean up and then get messy again. He intended to soak her mattress, all the washcloths, even the couch cushions. He was finally going to eat her out like he'd wanted for a damn year. And when there was nowhere left for her to drip upon, he’d take her in her tub, a favorite feature of his in her flat, and wring her of everything she had to give, running her a bubble bath when he was done and washing her hair. They’d have to stop by the store for coffee and Poweraid to replenish before they made their way to her house.
“Sleep? Who said anything about sleep?”
He felt her grin against his chest.
Yeah, he definitely understood the love poetry, now.