I want to go to the swimming pool with you.
I want to walk toward you slowly,
my fingertips searching for yours
under the water, electricity as they meet.
I want to drag my bottom lip across the skin on your shoulder,
gathering the beads of water
and the essence of you in my mouth.
Rising up,
up,
up,
until I reach your neck.
I want to linger there.
Sucking.
Listening to your breathing.
I want to make my way to your throat.
Your voice box.
Kiss you there.
To watch you swallow hard with desire,
To watch you still yourself, waiting. Patient.
I want to press the palms of my hands against yours.
Hear your heartbeat quicken,
the gasp that escapes your lips.
Feel the surge that is sure to follow come over me,
Down,
Down,
Down.
I want to drag it out,
soak in you,
take my time with you.
I want to lift your arms around my neck,
And feel as you slide your fingertips down my shoulders, my arms, my hands.
I want to bring your fingertips to my lips
and find your eyes with mine.
I want to take your fingers into my mouth while I watch you.
Your head falls back,
and your eyes close.
Your lips part,
I want to hear the exquisite noises that you make.
I want to pull you into me.
I want you to slide your hands down my back,
Finding handfuls, grabbing onto me,
squeezing me, lifting me,
wrapping my legs around your waist.
I want you to kiss me.
Hard.
I want to feel your tongue slide sweetly, hungrily
over my lips and into my mouth.
I want to watch for your reaction as I cry for you,
because you know it makes me
come undone.
I want to taste you,
my hand grasping at the side of your face desperate to pull you in deeper.
Devour you.
I want to let go of anything else.
Fully and completely together in this moment,
We melt into one.
Sinking,
sinking,
Sinking
Going deeper.
I want to go to the swimming pool with you.
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@abcdbleh you little beauty 🫶🏼 this is in the “cellular-device-universe” | p1 p2 p3 p4
you had managed an incredible feat, what with bringing your older bf!simon around to the idea of sex over the air waves.
you’d effectively achieved the impossible.
well, something you’d thought impossible given who he was as a person. some guy, simple guy, practical and not remotely interested in anything he doesn’t think worth his time.
that’s the thing- when it comes to you?
everything is worth his time.
you could tell him that you’d booked an all expenses paid couples trip to the fucking moon and he’d have your bags in the car before you’d even finished speaking.
he likes that look on your face when you’re happy.
you’d imagined that getting him to send you videos whilst he stroked his cock would be difficult, but now your hidden folder is bursting at the seams.
you had no idea how easy it’d be to have him send you photos in just his briefs, tattooed arm barely illuminated by low light as his large hand gripped himself through the fabric.
but here you were.
laid back in your bed, awfully roomy without a hulking great simon to take up three quarters of it, your phone was pressed to your ear.
“what y’mean, love?”
the deep, rolling rumble of his voice would probably do it if you tried hard enough. you could have him read the menu from the local chinese takeout and make do. he just had that effect on you.
“i mean- i want you to touch yourself and talk me through it, si”
you could hear the way his breath caught in his throat, a stuttered little exhale and a crackle over the line. he was in the middle of nowhere (far as you were concerned) but he could still find it to keep you satisfied.
simon would never have you settle for less.
the quiet you could hear on his end wasn’t nerves, you knew him well enough to immediately detect- inexperience?
there was very little simon didn’t know how to do in the bedroom but bring any virtual factors (like a cellphone) and he just needed a couple directions.
he needed an order.
“si, i want to get off to your voice, the sound of you touching yourself- i want you to cum and i want to hear about it in excruciating detail”
you could hear how scratchy his military grade blanket was, woollen and likely older than you, being pushed down his body.
no shuffle of clothing, he was already stark naked in his cot. he’d been with rest of the 141 long enough, you just assume they’ve all seen each other in their entireties. sharing rooms, sharing showers.
you can’t think about that kind of thing too long. the implications that come with it.
the sound of simon spitting in his palm drags you out of steam filled visions, kyle asking your boyfriend for help getting his back, johnny watching wide-eyed but waiting for his signal.
anyway- anyways, the sound of his large palm dragging along his cock had you back in the present for good. you could almost picture the way his foreskin would be rolling down the head.
“already s’fuckin hard for you”
“i bet”
a bet that’d make you a billionaire.
you could count on simon for a lot of things but as sure as the sun rises in the east, that man would be hard for you.
you’d say a gentle breeze would do it. he’d say only if you were blowing.
cheek of him.
faint sounds, faint sounds of his hand tugging on himself but you needed more. you needed it fucking filthy and unmistakable across the line that he was doing one thing.
“more spit, si- need to hear it”
and you could, spit mixed with the leaking pre-cum that was running from his head. soon the sound was circling your eardrums as he worked up a steady rhythm.
“been lookin’ at y’little pictures”
deep sigh as he said it, like he was thinking back to you in compromising positions. you could almost see him with his eyes drifting shut, phone between his ear and shoulder whilst both hands preoccupied by his cock and balls.
“can’t hardly wait to get home to you”
as one hand stroked along his length, running his fingers over the head, the other would be cupping his heavy sack as he rolled them both in his palm.
“y’been teasing me, sweet’art”
large feet would be planted on the threadbare mattress, his thighs tensing the more he tugged himself off. you knew he’d be imagining you in his lap, doing all the work for him so he could focus on running his mouth.
“jus’y wait till i get m’hands on you”
your heart was in your throat with every word he said, you’d no doubt he’d stay true to his word. you had visions of him throwing the front door open and telling you to run.
finding you crawling across the bed to duck down the other side but his grip tightening around your ankle before you could get away.
you had to leave that feeling in the pit of your stomach before you got lightheaded but, as usual, simon knew you better.
“what’s goin’ on in that pretty head f’yours? thinkin’ about all the nasty things i’ll do t’you?”
a squeak of a moan slipped out of you, back arching in the bed as simon chuckled down the line. he always knew exactly what he was doing to you.
calculated man, comes with the territory.
“first thing i’m gonna’ do is stuff my cock in’y, got a couple’a loads saved up just f’you”
you couldn’t imagine how, all the filthy videos he’d been sending you. thick load after thick load spilt over his chest, his thighs, the shower drain.
but, then again, you’ve yet to find a thing he wouldn’t do for you.
“gonna’ keep y’in that fuckin’ bed till y’begging f’mercy”
you could hear it on his voice, the strain that was behind it. he was close, closer than ever but you couldn’t stop him once you got him going.
whenever he was on that precipice of bliss, the things that’d come out of his mouth could turn you inside out.
“gonna’ cum f’you, sweet’art- need you to-“
the blood was rushing so hard in your ears you nearly missed his words as they tapered off into broken moans. nearly missed.
“what d’you need, si? tell me, whatever you need it’s yours”
distant filthy sounds of a wet palm sliding along his cock was ever present in the background of the call. a long sigh drifted from his lips as he spoke.
“tell me t’cum, please”
jesus fucking christ.
there’s no coming back from the sound of simon riley begging.
“cum f’me, simon- need to hear you- make a mess f’me, baby”
the sound that left his chest was filthy, a deep groan intertwined with the sounds of cheap mattress springs. breathy stuttered moans broke through, your name a constant on the tip of his tongue.
he sounded desperate, no doubt still stroking himself even as his hips lifted off the cot. he wasn’t about making it easy on himself.
everything he did was for you.
listening as he rode it out, you could hear him still muttering between the other debauched sounds.
“fuckin’ take it, s’fuckin’ good f’me”
anther broken cry of your name only confirmed it. in simon’s eyes, he wasn’t pumping his cum across in his chest, he was pumping you full of it.
he’d gone too long without the feeling of you wrapped tight around him, only knowing the rough drag of his palm. he’d give anything to be in his bed, buried to the fucking hip in you.
simon’s breathing evened out, broad chest rising and falling with a sticky sheen across it. you could even make out the sound of his head hitting the pillow.
“fucking ‘ell, sweet’art- how was that?”
nothing if not an overachiever.
“perfect, si- you did absolutely perfect”
if he was with you he’d been keening into your touch, a soft side of him that only you were allowed to see.
softening further in his afterglow, you wrapped up with praises and promises to be waiting for him soon as he got home.
your entire body felt like it could sink through the mattress as you curled into his side of the bed, letting the scent of him overwhelm every part of you.
eyes shutting on their own, you’d nearly hit sleep when your cellphone buzzed on the bedside table. a little bleary eyed, you reached for it in the darkness.
“si sent a photo”
your heart sped up, teeth digging into your lower lip as you slide the message open. your screen went from light to dark in an instant.
thick thighs spread apart, toned barrel chest, tattooed arm, and a slightly scarred chin in the shot. in this light you could see it, so faint but still there, the streaks of cum dripping down the lines of his stomach.
the grip on your phone was so tight you wouldn’t have been surprised if it had shattered in your hands. in the corner of your screen, those three dots were taunting you.
your phone buzzed, you could almost hear it in his voice.
“could really do w’you here to clean me up, sweet dreams sweet’art”
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