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The thing about Jonathan is that he rarely demonstrates affection, and even less so, intimacy. You were usually the one initiating sex with mixed results. Sometimes he would oblige with an almost imperceptible nod of his head, other times he would say that he’s not feeling it that day or that he was too occupied with another scheme involving Batman and his fear toxin, not that you minded… or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself. The times that he does initiate are exceedingly rare, enough so that you could probably count the times on your fingers and toes. Therefore, you always accepted the offer whenever he sought you out, never the one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Today, the stars happened to align.
The two of you were sitting on the couch, reading. You were engaged with Her Body and Other Parties, while he was reading a newly released book on theoretical psychology, making notes in the margins. Suddenly, you heard him close his book and place it and the pen on the side table. Your eyes drifted towards him. He shifted closer to you, his gaze settling on a passage in your book.
“Tell me,” he began, his eyes finally lifted to meet yours, “what are you reading?”
“It’s a collection of feminist horror stories,” you explained, “and each story explores a different aspect of women’s bodies.”
“Hm,” his gaze drifted back to your book, “interesting.”
“I’ll let you borrow it when I’m done,” you smiled softly at him.
“Thank you,” he shifted closer until your shoulders nearly brushed. You stared at him, puzzled. Jonathan rarely sought out physical closeness, much less this casually. Unless…
You grinned, closing your book and setting it on the coffee table. You felt excitement bloom in your chest, your heartbeat quickening.
“Is there something you would like, Jonathan?” You teased, as you reached out to touch his shoulder.
“Perhaps,” he muttered, his eyelids lowering. Jonathan’s hand reached out to caress your face, and you flinched despite yourself. His hands were always cold. You nuzzled your face into his touch, smiling softly. You moved your face to press a kiss into the palm of his hand, then kissed each of his fingers. Jonathan sighed.
“Did you like that?” You smiled mischievously.
“I believe you already know the answer to that, my dear,” he said dryly. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. You laughed as you swung a leg over his lap, now straddling his hips. Your hand still on his shoulder, the other idly combing through his short, russet hair.
“I think so too,” you chuckled softly, as you carefully removed his glasses and set them on top of his book. You pressed your forehead against his, brushing your noses together. You felt his long arms wrap around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. Your heart soared. Every rare display of affection from Jonathan felt precious. You kissed him tenderly on his forehead, tracing a line of kisses until you reached his lips.
When you met his lips, you kissed him slowly, closing your eyes, lingering as though neither of you had anywhere else to be. Your hand left his hair to caress the back of his neck, while the other slipped under his shirt to rest against his side, your thumb tracing the line of his ribs. You felt him shiver beneath your touch.
You felt his still cold hand slip under your shirt, coming to rest against your back. His finger traced part of your spine, slowly moving up and down. You moaned, content with his touch. You felt an eagerness to move faster, to keep going, but you wanted to show restraint. You wanted this to last.
You broke the kiss first, breathing heavily. You stared at each other. Jonathan was breathing a bit more quickly, unable to look away from you.
“Do not stop,” he muttered. Your mind froze, the request was even rarer coming from him. Without a word, you obliged, moving your lips back onto his. You opened your mouth a bit wider, his tongue slipping in and yours meeting his in earnest. His hand moved from your waist to tug at your shirt. You briefly pulled away from the kiss to take it off, struggling to remove the shirt because of your impatience. You went back in for more, but he stopped you, both of his hands on your shoulders. You blinked.
Jonathan watched you. His gaze drifted from your face down to your shoulders, your chest, your arms.
“You are beautiful.”
The compliment made you breathless. You pulled Jonathan into a hug, removing your hand from beneath his shirt. You brought your lips close to his ear.
“Thank you,” you whispered. You began a series of kisses from his ear to his neck. He tilted his head slightly, offering his neck without hesitation. You felt his throat rumble. Your hands trailed down, tugging on his shirt, still sucking and kissing his neck. You removed his shirt, revealing his lanky frame. You hummed, pleased to see his exposed skin. Your fingers brushed the scars on his shoulders, gently caressing each one. You felt him shift underneath you, his hard cock, trapped in his slacks, pressing against you.
“...I am shocked that you have not pounced on me yet,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Excuse me for taking my time,” you retorted, a small smile on your face.
“Because you are known for your patience,” Jonathan rolled his eyes. You rolled your hips in response, slowly, teasingly, enough for him to close his eyes and let out a small groan.
“Extremely well known for my patience,” you agreed, chuckling lightly. His hand moved to play with the waistband of your shorts. “It seems like you’re the eager one today, Jonathan.”
“I wasn’t aware that my dear was capable of playing the waiting game,” Jonathan’s mouth moved to attack your neck, “it has intrigued me and yet… made me impatient.”
You groaned as he nibbled and sucked on your neck. Your hand moved to thread your fingers in his hair again, “I had no intention of playing games… I just wanted to enjoy you…”
“Hm,” his mouth moved down to your shoulder, his hand moving from waist to caress your breast. You groaned again, throwing your head back and tightening your grip in his hair. You rolled your hips against him again, unintentionally, desperately trying to relieve this massive tension in your core. “You are starting to become impatient.”
“A bit,” you let out a breathy laugh. You gasped. His fingers began to play with your nipple, twisting and pinching it. The sensations made you arch your back. “Ah… fuck!”
“How vulgar,” he clicked his tongue. Your hand began to claw his back, the other tightening on his hair. His hand began to work at your shorts, tugging them and your underwear down. You shifted your weight onto your right leg to free your left leg. Jonathan started to unbuckle his belt and undo the button on his slacks. He shimmied out of his slacks and boxers enough to free his cock, long and not too thick. You shifted back on top of him, one hand on his shoulder and the other hand slowly guiding his cock inside. You bit your lip, feeling his head enter. Then. The rest of him. You exhaled deeply at the new feeling, while Jonathan groaned at the sensation.
You worked him slowly, feeling his cock drag slowly across your walls and back in.
“Jesus,” you breathed, resting your head on his shoulder and pulling him close. Jonathan returned the sentiment, holding you close. You could hear his shaky breathing. Your heart was thundering in your chest so loudly that you thought he could hear you. Even still, you felt close to him. A tender affection reserved for him and him alone. You wanted to take your time, to make it feel amazing for the both of you. You wanted him to feel your love too and not just your passion. You wanted this time to be different.
You rode him at a steady rhythm and pressed kisses along his neck.
“You feel so good, Jonathan,” you moaned into his ear, “I just love riding your cock.”
You could feel him shiver at your words, squeezing you tighter.
“Faster,” he stammered. You smiled at his request, ready to fulfill it. You readjusted your arms and placed them on his shoulders. You began to ride him at a quicker pace. Jonathan rearranged his hands to place them on your hips. He began to thrust upwards, matching your pace.
“Oh, god!” Your voice began to get louder. His cock was hitting you deep. You closed your eyes. You felt shocks of pleasure hit you with each thrust. The momentum. The rhythm. You could feel it with each thrust. “Oh, Jon- I don’t- I can’t-”
You stumbled over your words, unable to focus, your orgasm close at hand. At this point, both of you were recklessly and relentlessly fucking each other. Jonathan was bucking his hips wildly. He was close too. It made your mind spin. Normally, whenever you rode him, he didn’t move, he would only touch you. His blatant desire for you now drove you crazy.
“J-Jonathan, please…” you started off, “Ah! Please come with me!”
He looked into your eyes and nodded. You grip his shoulder hard, resting your head to the side of his head. Your stomach tensed, feeling the release.
“Jon, I’m-” you couldn’t finish, only moaning in his ear. The waves of pleasure entered your mind as your cunt squeezed him tightly. Jonathan moaned, only squeezing you tightly as he came. His cock twitched inside of you, the feeling of his cum leaking from your hole. Both of you held each other tightly, breathing heavily. You let go, staring at him. Jonathan’s face was flushed. You smiled brightly.
“You look pleased with yourself,” he looked at you, then reached for his glasses.
“That’s because I am,” you said smugly. He scoffed. You got off him, staring in horror as you realized the couch had been stained. “Oh, no!”
“I will clean it,” Jonathan sighed, curling his arm around you, “just give me a moment.”
You blinked at the action, and then you gratefully snuggled up next to him, listening to his rapid heartbeat slow down.