MOONDUST

35 🌙 Must be simping

"Yes..." I breathed as my eyes instantly shut with pleasure when he slid his fingers up and down my slid, feeling me through my shorts and undeniably feeling how damp they were. My hand relaxed around his excitement as I froze with pleasure, whimpering, quietly moaning as all I could feel was the motion of his fingers.

One of my arms shot around his neck to keep me from falling apart around him, pulling him into me when I gasped once more as soon as his fingers rubbed me in circles in the perfect spot. "Slow and s-s-steady." He whispered into my ear, while his hot breath grazing my skin felt like a kiss. He meant it as he moved slowly, but slow definitely didn't mean less pleasure, his rubbing motions making me even wetter than I already was. I held on to him, the heat of his face next to mine making me feel like I was having one amazing fever. As I grinded myself into his hand and lap uncontrollably wanting more, his free hand suddenly unclasped my bra.

"Is that your magic move?" I chuckled at the surprise of his skills, handling my bra better than I ever could.

"No." He smiled, before sliding his nose over the tip of mine, loving and adorable, like only he would. His lips kissed a path down my chin and neck, before pressing them into my collarbone. Eventually, he reached the strap of my bra, kissing it too before sliding it down my shoulder, slow enough to torture me. He did the same to the other side, this time searching for my gaze when he let the strap fall down my arm. His eyes, just like his touch weren't greedy. He took his time like he'd have a lifetime to explore every inch of me, taking away the dreadful pressure I always felt. He touched me like I was worth every second of anticipation. "This is." He whispered when he suddenly lifted me up and turned us around, the satin sheets once again hugging my back while I was wearing nothing but my shorts and cozy socks. He laid down next to me on his side, his hand cupping my cheek, his thumb trying to rub the flustered blush away. I was already craving his touch, my core throbbing. "If you w-want to stop-"

"Don't stop now." I cut him off as soon as I saw the hesitation in his beautiful eyes. "You don't want me to stop either, right?" I whispered, my hand feeling him through his sweatpants, the way his breathing became have as a result encouraging. My mouth slightly parted as I followed his fingers from my cheek to my breasts, his fingertips slowly teasing my nipple like a feather, and soon it hardened under his touch. The way I was struggling to keep my back and thoughts straight, had me squirming into his sheets, my hips achingly tilting into an imaginary touch. He noticed, of course he did, he noticed everything about me, and so his fingertips started a tingling quest down my front, finding treasure at the hem of my shorts. I arched into his hand, while my fingertips hooked behind his pants once more, the both of us on the brink of indescribable pleasure.

"You look perfect." He whispered confidently while his hazel gaze went over my exposed body, not a single nerve rattling me, or making me to feel shy. "Mhh." He let out while my hand went beyond just the hem of his boxers, diving all in to feel his excitement in the palm of my hand. His face looked overwhelmed with longing when he felt my hand cup him, his eyes hooded, his mouth parted. "Fuck." He breathed, before rapidly leaning in to cover my lips with his. "Ladies f-first Larson." He groaned as he suddenly moved to hover over me, my hand however still driving him insane. His mouth moved to my neck, kissing my skin like it tasted sweeter than anything. As soon as the trail of kisses went on to move down, the rush of tingles made my hips move up from the mattress, my desire too strong to keep me from floating and colliding with his groin. I gasped, feeling his lips cover my nipple, his tongue making me feel loved. A soft breeze gave me goose bumps there where his lips left my skin wet, his trail of kisses moving south and making my hand slip from his pants. Not entirely knowing what to do with my hands I laced my fingers through his hair, and it made him look up at me, his gaze so hot it nearly killed me. His lips met the thin fabric of my shorts, his fingers grazing the hem, and willingly I raised my hips, giving him unspoken permission to take them off. I forgot to breath, barely staying sane as I felt the fabric leave my hips and saw his gaze exploring every strip of perfect imperfect skin, my stretchmarks now making me feel like a fierce tiger instead of an insecure girl. It was like he managed to turn my thoughts positive, with a single loving look. My shorts and underwear were gone, and all that was left was a dripping desire covering the spot between my legs. He sat there for a second looking at me, observing the curve of my smile and rating the intensity in my eyes, his fingers softly grazing the inside of my thighs. "If something doesn't f-f-feel nice, tell me. If I hurt y-"