Your fingertips skate across his jawline as he looks up at you, his eyes the most innocent shade of blue to ever drill into you. Christ, it hurts. He’s either hopelessly devoted to you or a fantastic actor. You can’t stand it anymore.
“Get up off your knees. Stand in front of me.”
He’s not that much taller than you. Without you even asking, his hands are neatly in front of him, his left hand grabbing his right. He bounces on the balls of his feet for just a second before planting himself, as though he worries you see his bouncing as “defiant.”
“Take your clothes off.”
He looks down. His light brown hair falls in front of his face like a cascade and you can’t tell if he’s smiling or blushing. After a deep breath, Ed reaches for his belt buckle.
“Ah-ah-ah.” You wag your finger in disapproval, pointing at his chest. “Shirt first.”
He grabs the bottom hem of that same ratty olive Tivoli shirt you’ve seen him in for every date. Is this his only shirt? The thought is broken as the bright peach color of his skin pops against the dark of the shirt and the dimly lit room. Once he lifts the shirt past his hair and drops it to the floor, his hands go back to his waiting position. The lean muscle of his arms frames his nipples, the v of his joined hands combining with the whisper of hair below his belly button to suggest an obscene arrow.
You cock your head up. The lightest smile dawns on your face. “Now you can take off your pants.”
He blinks slowly in obedience. With his left hand on his belt, Eddie’s right hand pulls the loose end out of its loop and far enough from his body that the prong slips out.
“Eddie…” You gasp. You sound a little too desperate. If he can tell, he won’t let on. What a sweetheart.
“Look at me while you take them off.” You sit down on the bed and smile.
Eddie’s eyes meet yours, his sweetness shadowing a subdued hunger. He pulls the buckle up and away, unbuttoning his shorts and pulling down the fly with that same stare from on the floor. He bows as he pulls down the shorts along with his dark green boxer briefs in order to keep your gaze. Once the waistband sinks below his knees, he drops the garments and steps out. His left foot nudges the fallen clothes behind him. He holds his hands behind his back. The hunger in his eyes is gone. He asks you with his eyes, “Will this be enough?”
It will definitely be enough.
You’d seen the bulge at a Pearl Jam show a few weeks back. Some bulges are deceiving. Eddie’s was not. As soon as his cock had sprung from under the waistband your eyes blocked out everything else. It curves just slightly to the right and a single bead of pre-cum gleams at his tip. Eddie’s cock is a healthy length, probably at least six inches, but looks thicker than a few of your exes. Maybe it was in comparison to Eddie’s slender body? No wonder he seems so rabid on stage, carrying an erection that large and unsatisfied must hurt.
“Come up to me.”
You adjust your posture and spread your legs so that when he reaches the bed, he’s already between your thighs. His erect cock threatens to graze your stomach.
You break the stare as you close your eyes and breathe in. Your hands grab his and you pull them closer to your thighs.
“Now you can take me, Ed.”
He grabs behind your thighs high enough to pull you off the bed as you wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses you. Hard. The hunger leaks through. His lips are so smooth, so adamant against yours. He crashes down with you so the two of you are in the middle of your bed, his cock throbbing against your body. Your hands clasp each other’s faces as his tongue works its way from his mouth to yours. Did you just moan? Pass it off as a deep breath. Who’s in control again? His kisses smear against the corner of your mouth and trail down your face, across your jaw, and finally down your neck. Just north of your collarbone, he nips at the skin of your neck and your hands jump from his face to pull your shirt up and off. His strong hands land on your waist and smooth their way up your sides and behind your back. As he kisses down your sternum you arch enough to unhook your bra, and Eddie’s hands wait ready to pull the garment off and throw it aside. Eddie’s hands come back to your side and up your chest, sinking down to cup your breasts just as his kisses trek up the left. Your eyes shut as those perfectly shaped lips close on your nipple.
Your fingers snake through his hair, your squeezes on the light brown waves syncing with the delicate tug of his teeth in between licks and sucks. You exhale through gritted teeth. Your pelvis squirms under him. Your attempt to push him down only motivates him to shower your other breast in the same torturous worship. You stroke his hair and try to compose yourself until he finally let goes of your right nipple and travels south. You shimmy out of your skirt and Eddie kisses your hip and down your thigh until he reaches the hot triangle of your sex, guarded only by your soaked panties. He kisses your aching clit through the thin cotton fabric. He pulls your panties to the side, still kissing the same patch until his mouth finally makes contact with your clitoris.
A moan flutters out of your mouth before you can catch it. Looking down, you savor the image of his face in such focus between your legs. He opens his eyes to inquire about his progress, and you respond by squeezing his hair again and arching your back. Satisfied, your diligent servant slowly closes his eyes in lust as he continues to pleasure you. You turn your head for two seconds and his right pointer finger has slithered its way between your wet folds and is rubbing inside of you. That first knuckle passing your threshold elicits a gasp and you writhe as his finger rubs at your g-spot. The tandem effort of his tongue, nose, and finger drags you to the verge of ecstasy but his middle finger readying itself to join the other drives you desperate.
His head jerks up. He’s afraid he’s hurt you. His heart twists as you catch your breath to explain yourself.
“Not yet. Come up here. Fuck me, Ed.”
He sighs in relief. He climbs up with you as you scoot yourself into the support of your pillows. Once you’re steady, he grabs his cock and rubs its head against your entrance. It looks so painfully thick from your angle. If two fingers felt like it would be too much, how the hell would he fit himself inside you?
Your eyes search his and you share a breath as his cock head finds the right angle. His eyes darken as his cock eases in with such painstaking care. Your eyes are half closed now. He pulls back at the same achingly slow speed, returning into you until his cock has slowly shoved itself against your cervix. The pressure of the fullness is irresistible.
“Ohhh, Y/n. Y/n…” he whispers as his rhythm increases, and soon he’s sliding his cock into you at a steady tempo. You lose every illusion of control. Every thrust forces another moan or gasp from your parted lips. Left hand lost in that soft, light brown hair. Right hand fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulderblade.
“Ed… Ed… Oh, Ed…” You throw your head back into the pillows and Eddie buries his face into the crook of your neck, peppering you with kisses in between muffled curses and low groans. He alternates between jackhammering and deep, hard, painfully slow thrusts that make you wonder if he’s finished. But every time you think it’s over, he reanimates and continues his rhythm.
Eventually he finds an angle where his thrusting rubs against your clitoris, and your hips buck up to meet him. Your heart pounds. You’re so close. He slows down. God, don’t let this be it for him. Not now, not now not now not now.
Your desperate, broken whisper rejuvenates him and he grabs your hips to steady himself as the ferocity of his thrusts shakes the entire bed. It’s too much.
“Oh, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, EddieEDDIE, EDDIE, Eddie… Ed…” Your shuddering orgasm breaks you into pieces just in time for your last pathetic squeezes to bring Eddie to his own orgasm. “Oh, Y/n, oh, Y/n, Y/n, Y/N, ohhh, Y/n…” His voice rises to a cry and falls to a deep exhale as his final slams against your cervix pump you full of his semen. He places one last kiss on your shoulder before falling on top of you. One minute of silence, save for labored breathing.
Eddie inches up to the pillow, seemingly dazed from the intensity of his pleasure. “Did I give you what you wanted?” he sweetly asks, somehow as innocent as he was fully clothed. You take his hand, kiss the knuckles, and sigh, “You’re perfect.”