a george one-shot, explicit. 2326 words.
I wake with a pounding headache, and it's not fully light yet, but the birds have decided that if they're up then everyone else apparently needs to be too. The air in the hotel room is heavy and stifling; a breeze rushes in as the balcony door slides open, and I lift my head, squinting at the fuzzy edges of George's silhouette.
'You're still here.'
He turns, and his face solidifies in my line of vision, serene and handsome. 'Of course.'
I sit up, my cheeks flushing as I remember the anticlimactic evening. I'm wearing a large t-shirt - one of his? I do recognise it, a faded Apple logo, old tech merch. 'Sorry. I didn't really, um... regulate myself last night.'
'Don't apologise,' George turns back to the bed, sitting on the side of the mattress. He reaches out for my leg where it heaps the covers, and pushes them up, stroking my calf. I have to focus on his face so that I don't tip my head back and smile woozily in pleasure at the feeling. 'I think we had about the same amount to drink, I definitely made a fool of myself.'
'I don't remember that,' I shake my head vigorously. 'But I do remember everything you said.'
George claps a hand over his eyes. 'Oh, god... I'm sorry-'
'No, don't apologise. Don't you remember what I said back?'
'I wasn't sure if you, you know... reciprocated. Not in the cold, sober light of day, anyway.' He laughs softly at himself, and I feel like I'm melting inside, in the best possible way.
'G, I kissed you, didn't I?'
'I just thought you'd be glad we didn't sleep together.'
'Well,' I smoothed the duvet with my hands, tugging at the soft cotton sheets. 'I'm glad we didn't then. Just wanted to be sure I'd remember the first time.' He meets my gaze again, and his hand runs up to my knee, his fingers tracing the tender skin behind it, almost caressing the back of my thigh. I let him see how nice this feels this time, half-closing my eyes and smiling lazily. He takes that as his cue finally, leaning towards my face and meeting my lips with his.
The kisses last night were good, but this one is a birth of a new kind of desire, a more honest one, born out of attraction that needs no intoxicating influence to be revealed. Getting to make out with George in a drunken haze was an experience that could have passed for a hallucination, dismissed as unreality and thus never really savoured. I've wanted to kiss him for so long that when our inhibitions were lowered and flirtation gave way to action, I think I still felt some disbelief; he'd surely tell me it meant nothing, or that it was just a bit of fun. This kiss now seems like proof I can no longer refute.
George cups my face and kneels over me, his warm mouth enveloping mine. My lips part willingly, hungry for the taste of him. There's a sharp intensity to the kiss that speaks of rapidly building arousal, and I instinctively push myself up to meet him, my hands sliding up his back. I cling to him as he takes hold of my hips and yanks me into his lap, where I can feel his erection building. I wonder how hard he is, if he's going to be any bigger than what I can already feel, and whimper involuntarily as his tongue slips over mine.
'Fuck, you turn me on so much.' He pulls back, breathing raggedly from the sudden change of tone. 'Can you feel?'
'Yeah,' I sit a little deeper in his lap. 'Are you going to fuck me?'
'If you want me to, I'll fuck you for the rest of the day.' He starts kissing my neck, sucking at the point just below my ear.
'George... god,' I sway on top of him, and his arms circle my waist tightly. Every place on my body that he touches becomes a new pleasure point, ones I didn't even know I had.
'I'm not in a rush. I want to see what makes you feel good.' He mumbles against my neck now, and his hand hovers around my collar bones, tracing the drape of the small silver chain I kept on overnight, his thumb feeling my racing pulse. 'Can I do that?'
'Of course you can,' I breathe. We grin at one another, and kiss again playfully, my teeth grazing his lip and making him squeeze my waist beneath his other hand. 'You can try, anyway.'
In an instant, George rolls me sideways, and I gasp, shooting a look back at him over my shoulder. He returns it with a raised eyebrow and squeezes my arse, which is now perfectly presented to him on his lap. I can't feel his hard-on at this angle, and it frustrates me, but when I try to wriggle against him, he smacks the flesh where my thigh meets my arse and presses his thumb in, stretching the sensitive skin that shares nerve endings with my clit. 'Relax,' he laughs, as I moan quietly into the sheets. 'Are you comfortable?'
'You could say that, yeah,' I turn so that my cheek is against the mattress, and he can see my reaction to each touch.
'Sure?' I can feel him hesitating, and am touched, but now craving his hands on my arse again.
'Completely.'
George's hands return, his cool palms kneading the backs of my thighs. He runs a finger from the base of my spine and lightly between my buttocks, until he's grazing my cunt and I flinch with anticipation. 'You're sensitive,' he comments.
'And you're teasing,' I shoot back, though it doesn't have the effect I want since I'm in such a compromised position.
'Yeah. I am.' George pushes my shirt up and bends to kiss my shoulder blade, the tips of his fingers pressing into my arse again. I'm already wet, and to my relief his hand wanders back down between my legs, picking up some of the moisture there. He parts my labia and circles without dipping inside just yet; I groan with frustration. His hand lays flat over the throbbing skin, calming the pulse momentarily, before one of his long, deft fingers slides into me, turning and twisting so that I feel the stretch in every direction. One finger becomes two, and my face contorts with pleasure; I sneak a look at George's face, which is concentrated on my cunt. He bites his lower lip at one side, clearly savouring the task, until he notices my gaze and returns it darkly. 'Every part of you is fucking perfect.' He sinks in up to the knuckle, curling and pressing into the front wall. I twist and ball up the sheets beneath my face, using them to muffle my cry.
And then his fingers are gone, and I flex my hips upwards instinctively, trying to find relief. His hand soothes and strokes the backs of my thighs again. 'I've got you... you're doing so good, love. I've got you.' This time, when his fingers push into me, I grind against his hand, letting him lift me and control my movements. 'Good girl, that's it.'
'Fuck... yes, oh my god,' I gasp into the mattress. George moves his fingers slowly, feeling for the most responsive spot inside me and massaging it before slipping out and rolling around my clit. I'm almost unconscious of the sounds I make, until he speaks again.
'I love the way you sound when I touch you.' His voice is low, hushed but thick with arousal.
'It's your hands... and your - oh, fuck - want you to fuck me, please George!' I moan into the sheets. His right hand appears in front of my face, his thumb at my bottom lip, and I suck it into my mouth so that I can suppress my cries. I know he wouldn't mind me being loud but it feels good to focus the wonderful agony of stimulation on something, anything.
Without warning, he drops his hands and lays one lightly on the small of my back. 'Sit up for me.' I push myself upright unsteadily, and immediately my gaze lands upon the strained cotton of his underwear, which is being pushed to its limit to contain his erection. Before I can touch it, he goes to adjust himself, first over the fabric and then pushing beneath the waistband, slow enough that it's unbearable to watch. My gaze flickers up to his, and he pulls me in by the back of my neck, kissing me harshly; it's the first sign that he's starting to lose composure too, and I push back at him playfully, enjoying the tussle over control.
'You wanted to see what makes me feel good, right?'
He nods breathlessly, his fingers gripping the softest part of my arse as I lean into him.
'It feels good to see you so hard for me.' I cup his crotch, or what I can fit of it into my hand. 'I want to feel all of you...'
'Come here,' George demands, his voice cracking a little with frustration. The relief I feel even when his cock is just pressed against me is indescribable, the hot, firm pressure and anticipation that makes me burn up inside; I grind against him, and we sigh into each other's mouths, no patience left between us. He yanks his underwear off at last and lifts me up by my hips. I balance on my knees and reach down, spreading the abundant precum he's releasing over the head of his cock and nudging him over my clit. I lose command of my expression when I sink onto him, letting my head roll back, and he grunts into my neck as he feels me stretch to accommodate him. 'You alright?'
I nod rapidly. He wraps an arm around my torso and pins me against him, and my heels dig into the small of his back as he leans over me. His body is insatiable for mine; his lips drag over my chest as his hips roll forward, his breath hot on my skin. I can feel him everywhere at once, filling the space that yearns for him, and as he settles into a rhythm, I lie back on the sheets with my hips gripped between his hands, letting him control the pace.
George watches my face keenly, and our sounds spur one another on. He bites his lower lip, enraptured with the effort of fucking. I feel the familiar, base instinct of sex take me over, hypnotic and all-consuming. 'Yes,' I mutter under my breath, then louder, until my words turn into unformed noises, and George's own sounds match mine, in time with the beat of skin on skin.
He stops to turn me over, and I prop myself up on my elbows. One of his hands cups my chin, tilting my face up to kiss him as he pushes into me again, and my face twists in ecstasy, the muscles around my arse and thighs tightening around his cock. 'How do you want it?' George mutters in my ear.
'Slow, but... hard,' I manage, trying to focus on my breathing. He kisses behind my ear in acknowledgement, and his mouth drops to my shoulder as he bears down on me, his hips snapping forward and making me cry out. His hand grasps mine in the sheets, his fingers tangling with mine.
George fucks me until my core strength is wracked with the tension of being close to cumming. I groan something about it, and he yanks me upright like a puppet in his arms, reaching down between my legs and supporting my weight as he closes the circuit between the pressure in my cunt and the pulse in my clit.
'I want to be the only person to make you feel this,' he says lowly. 'I want you to cum for me.'
'Yes,' I plead, my body seizing up as the orgasm approaches. 'Do it, make me cum... fuck...'
His hand moves incessantly, untiring, his stamina unmatched, and eventually I clench and writhe in his arms. 'Good girl, feel it all for me.'
George holds me against his chest while I catch my breath, the furious rush of energy dissipating slowly. As I gather my wits and some strength returns, I sneak a hand down to his cock again; it's still firm and slick, and he tenses, breathing into my hair. 'You gonna let me finish you off? Hmm?'
'You - you don't have to.'
'Oh but I want to.' He doesn't stop me from untangling myself from his arms, and I turn around to see him kneeling before me, his eyes glazed over with arousal, his pale cheeks flushed pink from our efforts. His dick rests on his lower stomach, and I wrap my hand around it, feeling the sharp throb that tells me he's not far off cumming himself.
He tastes of sex and me and the familiar, more carnal version of the scent that I get when I bury my nose in his neck or his hair, the pheromones that tell us we just work together, that there's no questioning our synchronicity. I inhale through my nose as my lips close over the tip, sucking gently and working my way down.
George lets out a low moan in response, and his hips lift slightly, involuntarily straining towards my mouth. 'You're incredible... fucking hell.' I can't help making a small noise as he hits the back of my throat, and I swallow around him, the convulsions making him swear again. 'I'm going to...'
He cums hard, tightening beneath my lip and shooting across the back of my tongue; I release him from my mouth and swallow again as he twitches, and a little more drips forcefully from the head.
'Good boy,' I echo, and George blushes as I use his words on him; it makes me laugh. 'Did that feel good?'
He nods, pulling me towards him wordlessly as he flops down onto the sheets, dazed and exhausted. 'Well worth the wait.'