|notreallyme10 (notreallyme10) wrote,|
@ 2007-08-20 12:28:00
He looks terrified, like I’m going to hurt him instead of fucking myself on his bare dick. He fucked up, big time. But I refuse to let him fall back on the old Brian-will-never-change mantra, as tempting as that might be. It’s a little scary, expecting more from him, but that’s what he deserves from me.
The second first time is different, more serious, like almost everything has been for us these last few months.
I can’t deny the twinge of doubt I feel, like maybe he would prefer a condom between us and tricks on the side. Only I know that’s not true.
I move his body to where I want him, sitting up against a pile of pillows at the head of the bed.
I prepare myself in front of him and he makes no move to touch me.
I climb onto his lap facing him. I’m ready, desperate really, for this.
I’ve been having this crazy dream. One that makes me feel like an overly romantic twat, which is what I’m sure Brian would call me if I told him.
In the dream we fuck raw for hours and when he finally, finally comes inside me I feel cured. As though his come fills all the empty places in me.
It sounds completely insane and I’d like to say that I don’t believe for a minute it will work. But I think I just need something in my life to go back to normal, back to the way things were.
Instead of letting him right in, I lower myself as slowly as possible. I want it like this, and he needs to know. Has to know.
And I don’t know any other way to tell him. Words don’t work with Brian. He doesn’t trust them, not completely.
So I look at him and take him into my body, inch by fucking inch.
I can see him relax. Its so subtle, the way his head falls back slightly and some of the tension leaves his muscles, but I know he’s getting it.
I pull one of the pillows out from behind him, letting him recline further.
He is as deep inside me as he can go and all I can think about is that I’m so sick of being sad all the time. I clench my muscles and his back arches off the bed. I’m not moving, just holding him as tight as I can inside- like I never plan on letting him go.
I know what this feels like for him. I know how much he has missed this these past few months. I missed it just as much.
His fingers grip my hips and his breath quickens. He’s so close already and I know how much he hates that, hates coming first.
I love it. Sounds strange but I love that I can make him that out of control. I squeeze again and stroke my fingertips over his chest.
"Move Justin… I need you to move."
His voice makes me smile, makes me feel normal for a minute. It's that feeling that has been starting to creep in every so often these last few weeks. That feeling that things might be normal again. But after that feeling I always feel like shit.
I know all the guilt is just a bunch of bullshit, but it’s a cycle I can’t seem to break and I see Brian doing it to himself too.
Intellectually, I know we deserve to be happy. I know we’re lucky, to have each other and our family and friends and our careers and financial security, and I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but sometimes it just feels like we have had more than our fair share of shit dropped on us over the years.
The anger in his voice makes me laugh. But I decide I better do something before he flips me over and fucks the shit out of me.
I clench hard as I slowly pull off him. He moans and the muscles in his stomach quiver slightly. Just the head of his cock is inside me and I’m almost tempted to pull all the way off. Tease him more. If I had had the forethought to use spit instead of lube I might take him in my mouth and gently suck his cock before letting him back inside. But I hate the taste of a mouthful of lube so I let him slide back in instead.
On the next thrust he uses his legs for leverage and manages to angle himself just right to hit my prostate. He manages to make me forget all the shit that has been weighing me down. I’m tempted to stop, hold us in this place, but my brain is no longer running the show.
His come inside me doesn’t cure me, fix me, make me whole again or any of that crap.
But maybe it heals us, just a little.