Single-Syllable Steve

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Operation Sleep Snuggle

It appeared that he expected her to share a sofa but keep her hands off him.

Celeste clenched her pillow in both hands, trying to keep her breathing even.

Alright, so they were squashed onto a sofa-bed, not a sofa, but it wasn't designed with Steve in mind, let alone Steve and a plus-one. She lay curled up on his left, warm in one of his vast tee-shirts, while he slept peacefully on his back, bare save for boxers, his near forearm draped over his eyes. The flat was warm and the coverings only came up to their hips.

He had a fondness for orthopaedic pillows, she noticed, all hard, foam-compacted things with no ‘give’. She couldn’t stop smelling hers; it smelt of hard work, safety, Aqua di Gio and cleanliness. She gazed over at Steve, trying not to whimper with frustration. The street lighting threw the build of his torso into sharp relief, dipping into the grooves under his pecs, and the gentle dip down the centre of his taut gut.

She wanted to trail her fingers down that dip, feel the soft arrow of hair from beneath his long belly button to the enclosure of his boxers. His shoulders were broad and comfy-looking. She whined inwardly, letting her breath go in a frustrated huff. Her pussy muscles just wouldn't relax. They wouldn't let go of the hope. She closed her eyes against temptation and gripped that fucking pillow until her fingers hurt. She wanted to straddle him, stroke and kiss her way down his body until he was awake and groaning, his cock throbbing as she used his hardness as delicious friction for her clit.

The sensitivity down there was getting ridiculous—she was even turned on by the feel of her moist panties clinging to her quim and the tease of his borrowed tee-shirt as it tugged across her tits with every breath she took.

Fine.

Time for Operation Sleep-Snuggle.

She shuffled over until she was pressed against his side and slung her arm across his chest. He mumbled distantly and brought his arm down from his face, cradling it round her, stroking her upper thigh with his thumb. She managed to stay still for a couple of minutes, loving the way her whole face fitted into the dip of his shoulder, then her hand went walkabout, relishing the long expanse of smooth warmth of his side from armpit to waist.

His eyelashes flickered.

Breathing a little faster, she drew her fingernails across his belly, back and forth from hip to hip, gently following the line of his boxer elastic. His lips parted a little and he let out a soft groan.

“Steve?”

Nothing by way of reply, and her pussy ached with impatience. Not wanting to push things, she kept the back and forth rhythm up for another couple of minutes, then ghosted her fingertips up his taut belly, doodling feather-light circles across his bare skin.

“Mmm-hmmmm?”

Celeste's gaze snapped back up to his face. He still looked out of it, but parted his knees beneath the duvet.

Taking courage, she smoothed her palm up onto his chest, brushing the nearer nipple with her lips and swiping her thumb across the other. Steve jerked like he’d been hotwired, then suddenly flung an arm out, patting around with his hand. A bedside light came on and she used the side of his chest as a shield against the bright assault until the glaring bulb was no longer such a shock. She squinted, looking up at Steve, who looked bewildered. Oh God, he's not going to find somewhere else to sleep, is he?

“Celeste, that's getting me a bit wound-up.”

Wound up? She was annoying him? God, how badly wrong had she got all this?

“Do you want me to go?”

“No! No, I mean—” he moved her hand from his chest to the fold of duvet over his cock and moaned at the pressure of her palm against him. His eyes closed for a moment. “I mean, I was holding back for your green light. And that stroking—I can't take too much of that unless that's you saying you want more.”

She answered him by pressing a kiss against his nipple and sliding her hand under the covers, curling her fingers around the hot bolt in his boxers. The moist patch was warm against her palm. He slanted his lips across hers and then kissed her hard, his thumb stroking her face, his fingers wrapping into her hair, massaging her as he groaned into her mouth. Her moans mingled with his as he stroked the roof of her mouth with his tongue, tasting her as hungrily as she tasted him.

She wanted to enjoy his ‘wound-up’ body, pleasure him with her mouth. Not as a favour or bargaining tool—just because.

She broke away from him, ripped the tee-shirt over her head and tossed it, shuffling fast down the bed on her side until she could trace her lips along the length of him through his underwear. He flexed in eager response and then his thumbs descended, ripping his boxers off his thighs and flicking them into some dark corner of the room. They seemed to work as a silent team from that point, Steve pushing a pillow down the bed to support her neck as she found the right angle to close her mouth around him. She ran the tip of her tongue over his glistening tip, relishing the rumble of ecstasy running through his body.

She couldn't take him deep; he was too thick, too long, and her gag reflex was wholly untrained even for someone half his size. But she moved and sucked by feel, glorifying in his trembling rigidity as she stroked most of him within her two palms and caressed the head against her palate, playing her tongue around and beneath the soft pocket of his foreskin. Working by instinct set her free; her pussy continued to ache and seep with frustration, but at the same time, her every hum, stroke and lick earned a physical jolt and yelp as if Steve were being wildly fucked from behind rather than tenderly sucked. The thought of someone of his stature being taken by someone else fired her imagination and she took him a couple of inches deeper, focussing on an exhale through her nose.

“Ohhhh...fuck!”

Steve's breathing took on a frantic rhythm, his hands sweeping all over her head, under her hair, across her bare shoulders. Suddenly he closed his fingers over her shoulders, stilling her. She released the head of his cock from her mouth just as he brought his hand down, clamping himself firmly between middle finger and thumb.

“Wanna … feel you come.” It took him a moment of panting to calm down. “Want you to take me with you.”

She lost track of his movements a little after that. She seemed to be lying face down across a bank of those orthopaedic pillows. One nestled her head and shoulders, another supported her belly and navel. Another two propped up her thighs. And then she felt his weight on her, the soft mist of his sweat melding her back against his front. Two gentle fingers slipped into her from behind, making her whole body tingle as they pressed lightly in and then pulled out. He stroked her like that until she was reaching out to grip the corners of the mattress and unable to stop whimpering into her pillow. His fingers pulled away and when he pressed into her again, she barely felt the snag of rubber.

His left hand cupped her hip as he entered her, squeezing gently in reassurance as his huge cock broke through her slick but small gap. Steve was huge to the point that she snatched her face off her pillow in erotic shock as he started a slow but insistent dipping rhythm with his hips, filling her one careful, hard inch at a time. She’d never felt penetration like it. She felt herself clamping around him, juicing, even without him touching her clit. She let out a cry and his hips stilled, pausing her ecstasy.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Don't stop. Please don't stop...”

There was a weight readjustment as he rested down onto forearms and then he was away, fucking her rhythmically but gently, one hand teasing her nipples, the other reaching beneath to stroke her clit. She found herself careless of volume control or dignity as his tender stroking made her thigh muscles ride up and insides clench, and then he was fucking her into the storm, sliding into her over and over again as the tension in her body rose to a peak, making her eyes water. She tried to meet his thrusts, wanting him deeper, but he was too heavy, too much in control of the rhythm. As his thumb pressed one last hard circle on her clit, she came fast, her body thrumming with overload.

She felt her juices burst over the root of his cock down to the mattress and bit into the pillow as pleasure yanked her up to the skies. Steve's cock kicked hard and rapid inside her tenderised pussy and then he grunted his own release, breathing hard, holding himself still inside her until the strength in his arms failed. He gave a soft groan then rolled them onto their side, his arms clamping her against him.

She was more than happy to fall asleep that way, both of them exhausted, and with the soft, full feeling of him inside her. They lay still for an age until he gently pulled out, knotted and ditched the condom, and flopped onto his back. She curled up into his side, relishing the moment of total relaxation and the wonderful heat of his arm around her. Christ, even his armpit was lovely. She nestled close, breathed him in. Smiled up at him.

“Mmmmmmm, warm safe smell. I could stay here for weeks.”

He chuckled. “You might change your mind about the ‘safe’ smell after a couple of hours.”

“Don't care. Stay still for now.”

He did—for a while. She allowed her eyelids to close and her mind to drift as she dozed off, her arm draped across him, but woke up as he pulled free. By the time she'd registered his transit to the shower, all she could see was the reflection of his tidy butt in the mirror as he pulled the glass door open and tested the water. She called over to the shower room.

“Shall we go for a drink after getting my bag back?”

He didn't reply. Or if he did, it was a mumble beneath the rush of running water.

She felt the mild cramp of anxiety. She was tempted to join him in the shower but maybe he was just having a moment to himself. Maybe he was busy. Regretting.

God, she didn't even want to contemplate that. Not after what they'd just shared. She shuffled across the bed to where he'd been lying. It was still warm and she tried to hold onto that relaxed, floaty feeling she'd enjoyed just moments ago. Feeling that she'd do a better job of feeling floaty if the lamp wasn't shining right in her face, she wiggled over to turn it off and knocked his earpieces onto the floor.

She rolled her eyes at herself. Or maybe he wasn’t regretting anything in the slightest, was happily showering away, and he just couldn’t hear her talking from the other room. She’d have to learn what he could and couldn’t hear.

She looked up and he was standing in the doorway, towel-drying his groin and thighs. She put the aid back on the bedside table. “Sorry, I wasn't prying.”

“It's ok. It's not a secret.” He tossed the towel, crossed the room and joined her on the sofa bed, tugging her up so she was straddling him. He rested his hands on her hips. “I've got two. Not been wearing them much lately.”

“Self-consciousness?”

He laughed and slid his hands up her back, making her shiver. “No, just infections. I've not got a chip on my shoulder about wearing the aids. I sort of … earned them.”

“Earned them?”

“I was an arse, Celeste. I was on a backpacking holiday in Columbia with two other arses. We joined up with a walking group to go up the mountain, and chose to fuck around with armed men on the trail, rather than just quietly handing over the ‘toll’ like everyone else in the group and keep going.” He sighed up to the ceiling. “Jacko had been toting a little too freely on his hipflask and demanded a receipt. When they started shoving him around, I tried being the bigger man—against someone who turned out to be packing an automatic. They kicked me down onto my knees and fired the rifle either side of my head. Blew my eardrums out.”

Her hand went to her mouth. She felt nauseous just thinking about it. “How did you get down the mountain?”

“Half-carried. It only took two hours to get up to that checkpoint, but five hours to get down because we only had one guide and the group had to move at my pace. I cost a lot of people an expensive day of a long-saved-for holiday. Wasn’t popular.”

She looked down at him and raked her fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his face. His eyes looked wide with appeal. She brushed her lips over his and pulled back a little. “Is that meant to be an early warning to me? ‘Tread carefully, for this man may once again be an arse?’”

He laughed. “Bloody hell, you don’t hold back, do you?”

“Well… I need to know that you’ll talk to me if something’s wrong.”

“My grand plan was to get to know you, then tell you what happened. But certain hot-blooded people initiated things early.” He wrapped his arms round her waist. “I know what they called me in that club. I’m not that bloody silent. I just choose my battles these days—like you do.”

She arched her back as he trailed his fingertips up and down the dip of her spine. “You tuned me out a couple of times.”

“Yeah, ‘til I realised that you were the only one not trying to beat conversation out of me.” He pulled himself upright against her, nuzzling his lips against her neck, then turned them both over so she was on her back and his cock was flexing and thickening on her thigh.

So. He’d wanted to get to know her. Still wanted to get to know her. Which meant there was plenty of time later for more life-story stuff.

She lifted her head to kiss him. “If we're going to be seeing each other, I need you to be a lot more vocal.” She reached down and stroked him, making him groan deep and soft at the back of his throat. “No, a bit more vocal than that, please...”


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