Mr. Murphy's Mattress

xx. No Tears

"I could never write like you," you chuckled. "I mean, your poetry is nothing like I've ever read before."

You felt your bodies being pulled together by some force, and you two wanted so badly to break that sexual tension and smash your lips onto one another's.

"No one can write like anyone. Everyone has their own style, otherwise, they're not a writer," Cillian explained, furrowing his eyebrows. "Inspiration is great, but a good writer should never lose his or her originality."

"I understand," you whispered, leaning to kiss him, but he stopped your by grabbing your hair gently.

"And remember," he said, tilting his head to admire your facial features up close. "No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader."

Finally, his lips connected with yours and you both somewhat moaned into the kiss, feeling your bodies much closer than before. You opened your mouth, practically begging for his tongue to be on yours.

You felt him explore your mouth, breathy giggles escaping his lips as he made you whimper with each kiss.

As you deepened the kiss, you felt the book underneath your tummy. "Fuck," Cillian chuckled and threw it off the bed, continuing to kiss you hard.

You eagerly unbuttoned your gown, pushing it off your shoulders and Cillian helped you fully remove it. He pulled back from the kiss, admiring his favorite sight; your breasts.

Your nipples were barely covered, exciting Cillian even more to see them peeking out. "Get these off, sweetheart," he whispered, tugging at your shorts. You slipped them off, revealing your milky thighs to him.

"Come here," you gasped, pulling Cillian's head into your neck and whimpering at the feeling of his warm mouth on your collarbone.

Suddenly, he pressed his thumb against your panties, causing you to jolt from how sensitive you were. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, caressing your waist gently.

"I'm just not used to your hand there," you laughed, sliding your hands down his arms. "You usually just go straight to fucking me."

"True," he chuckled, and the erection in his briefs throbbed as he watched you open your legs to him. "How beautiful."

You breathed heavily in excitement, watching as Cillian teasingly dragged his fingers down over your tummy and to your panties. "Can I see?" He whispered, gently tugging at your panties

"Yes," you answered, letting your bra strap fall off your shoulder. "But you can't touch, professor."

The sudden name made him cock an eyebrow, though the reaction in his boxers contradicted him: he was aching.

"Haven't heard that in a while," he joked, sliding your panties off of your legs and tossing it off the side of the bed.

Your naked cunt drove him wild, though he tried to hide it. The way it glistened from the low light made him want to engulf you completely.

"Fuck," he whispered, almost breathlessly, looking up into your eyes and then back down at your sex.

"Your turn," you proceeded, tilting your head to him to indicate he would undress as well. "Reveal yourself to me."

"Is that the word, reveal?" Cillian questioned teasingly, urging a smile out of you. He used his thumb to push down the waistband, and when his hard length sprung out, your eyes widened and you almost jumped.

You hesitantly moved your hand to the base of his cock, looking up at him for approval. "Well?" He asked, causing heat to form in your cheeks.

"Well what?" You giggled, looking up at him.