|Coffee House Stalker
Author: The Sham PM
Slash/MxM Oneshot I'm not going to lie. I've pretty much been stalking some guy for the last two weeks. I don't know his name; I could figure it out of I tried. I'm just people-watching. The same guy. Every weekday. Not weird at all, right? Smut warning!Rated: Fiction M - English - Humor - Chapters: 2 - Words: 11,528 - Reviews: 20 - Favs: 52 - Follows: 12 - Updated: 11-22-10 - Published: 11-09-10 - Status: Complete - id: 2863239
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A story written at Lo's request. Not proofread, so apologies for any mistakes. Having a hell of a time trying to get my muse up and running again.
The prompts are: a monocle, a plate of stir-fry, lots of verbalization/dialog during sex, a massage, a blindfold, checking out Kama Sutra books and trying to be sneaky about it but being found out anyway, the line "I'm about to make it worth it," the description of someone utterly wrecked with lust and pushed to the brink about to lose control and slam their target into a surface and ravish them, blue converse, midnight, Egyptian silk sheets of the highest threat count possible, an acoustic guitar, wilting sunflowers, an open window, the sound of a train rolling by, a three-piece suit, a black leather jacket, a pocket watch, and a Titanic reference.
I'm not going to lie. I've pretty much been stalking some guy for the last two weeks. I don't know his name. I could figure it out of I tried, I know I could. But then I'd feel too creepy, and anonymous stalking helps me lie to myself. I'm just people-watching. The same guy. Every weekday. Not weird at all, right?
He's average height. Maybe 5'9" or so, and lean. Not skinny or scrawny, just lean muscle with a nice ass. He comes into Darwin's every morning at half past ten. Which is half an hour after I get there, after my two morning classes. He either orders a latte or black coffee, sits in the same corner table unless it's taken, and reads the front page of the newspaper while he waits for his friend to get there. Sometimes she shows, sometimes she doesn't Sometimes he sits and plays on his phone for half an hour or so, then leaves.
And I follow. His hair is medium-length. Wavy and dark, long enough to cover the tips of his ears. His eyes are also dark, brooding. Sexy as hell. He dresses nicely, borderline preppy with occasional punk undertones. The other day, he wore skinny jeans and a black leather jacket. His hair was still damp and combed back. He looked like a greaser from that movie, The Outsiders. I wanted to talk to him, but I chickened out and then his friend showed up.
So today, I hurried to Darwin's Coffee Shop just on the edge of campus. Grabbed a peppermint mocha, because it's only a month until Christmas and I wanted to indulge. Finals are coming. I should be studying. I really, really should be studying. I'm a double-major. I'm usually a week ahead on assignments. This guy is going to be the death of m--
I choke on my peppermint mocha when he walks in. He's that fucking sexy. His hair is extra wavy today. Getting a bit long, kinda fluffy. Like an angel. A dark-haired angel. Like the archangel Michael. He has dark hair, I think. Doesn't he? Maybe he's the blonde one. Anyway, I compose myself. Thankfully he doesn't look over at me. Actually, that's kind of a bummer. He never looks over at me. It makes me feel invisible. Which is kinda okay since I'm stalking him. I mean, people-watching him. He orders a latte.
I sit and watch him, pretending to play on my laptop. I should be writing essays. I should be doing research. Instead, I'm watching this guy's Adam's apple bob each time he takes a sip of his latte. His friend shows up. I glare at her, and she spots me and grins over at me, batting eyelashes. Slut. She orders an Italian soda and calls to sexy angel guy.
"You need a refill, Cove?" Cove. His name is Cove. How... unique. Sexy. Cove looks up at her and shakes his head, hesitates, reaches for his coffee, and nods. Slut girl giggles and orders him a black coffee. I want to call her a moron and tell him he's having a latte day, but I stay silent.
Slut girl delivers both of their drinks to the table and apparently decides she wants some biscotti too. She brushes past my table when she walks back by and conveniently knocks over the remains of my peppermint mocha. She curses loudly and apologizes.
"I'm so sorry. Shit, I'm such a klutz. What were you having? I'll get you another. Here, let me clean it up. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be allowed out of the house." She's actually kinda nice and polite. I only feel a little bad for calling her a slut. She's not even showing any cleavage or anything.
"It's okay, there was only a bit left and it went cold a long time ago," I say dismissively, handing her a few napkins, and she smiles up at me kindly.
"Smells like peppermint. Mocha? I'll get you a venti, and a chocolate biscotti." I'm taken aback and flustered, because Cove has noticed the whole scene, and I blush.
"No, no, that's okay. You don't have to, I'm fine, really." She shakes her head defiantly.
"Oh, nice shoes," she says, staring at my blue converse. I thank her quietly. "My brother always wears Converse, I swear he has about thirty different pairs. I'm Quinny, by the way. Or Quinn, if you prefer." She extends a hand, and I shake it, still painfully aware of Cove's dark gaze.
"Um, Griffith. Griff for short." She grins and gets to her feat, holding my empty cup and some soiled napkins.
"I'll have your mocha right up, Griff," she says and I blush and murmur a thank you as she walks away. I don't dare look at Cove for a good thirty seconds, not wanting to meet those dark eyes. When I finally glance over at him, he's absorbed into the newspaper, and I let out the breath I'd been holding. His brow's furrowed and eyes are squinted slightly. He's so sexy, and I want him.
"Do you want to come sit with us?" Quinn's question scares the crap out of me, because I didn't hear her walk up beside me.
"What? Oh. Oh, no thank you, I'm fine here. Thanks anyway," I say, straightening my skewed glasses onto the bridge of my nose.
"Oh, come on. There's no point sitting by yourself. At least come keep me company while Cove pulls his antisocial bullshit. I always have to wait for him to finish his paper to talk to him, and I might get lonely." She pouts a bit. Cove snorts from their table, eyes not leaving the newspaper. I shrug.
"Okay." I grab my laptop, case, and jacket from the back of my chair and follow Quinn to their table. Cove glances up at me, nods, and looks directly back at the newspaper. It takes everything to will myself not to blush. I put my laptop up and Quinn hands me my mocha and one of the chocolate biscotti she got. I thank her, and she strikes up a conversation about school – a good default topic. She asks me about my major, and I talk about physics and biology until I start to sound boring, then reciprocate the question. I'm surprised when she says she's majoring in political sciences.
"You don't seem very bookish," I say, and she shrugs.
"Some people hide their nerdiness better than others," she says with a smirk, and I allow myself a small blush and a smile, along with a shrug. I look like a nerd, with my sweater vests and glasses. "Like Cove, here. You'd never tell that he's majoring in English Lit with a focus on poetry. " Cove glares up at her, and she grins. "He actually doesn't have a major yet. He's only a Freshman and hasn't decided." A freshman. That kinda surprises me. He doesn't look that young.
Quinn and I talk for a bit longer. At half-past eleven, Cove sighs and folds up the newspaper, takes a sip from his latte, and looks over at Quinn.
"I've got class in fifteen minutes. You walking with me?" He pretty much ignores me, and Quinn smiles apologetically at me.
"Of course I am. Don't I always?" she asks, rolling her eyes, and he raises an eyebrow.
"I didn't know if you wanted to stay and talk to your new boyfriend or not," he deadpans, and Quinn rolls her eyes again.
"You really are an idiot, aren't you." It's not a question, and I feel slightly embarrassed and stung by the remark, but she smiles over at me again. "Catch you another day?" She asks, and I nod and shrug at the same time.
"Was nice meeting you both," I say, and Cove grunts. Quinn grins and says likewise, and the two pack up and leave.
I'm waiting with a cappuchino the next morning when Cove walks in and orders a black coffee. He looks windswept and broody, and his dark jacket adds to the aura of "bad mood" he's exuding. He walks back toward his table and pauses next to mine. Glancing down at me, I dare to peer up at him, and he looks tired.
"You coming?" he asks, and my brain freezes. Huh? Did Cove the-sexy-guy-I've-been-stalking-for-two-weeks just ask me to sit with him?
"Do... you want me to?" I ask, trying not to sound awkward and failing.
"I asked, didn't I?" I gulp and nod, gathering up my stuff and stumbling like an idiot after him. I'm silent while he glances over the headlines of the newspaper and he finally looks up at me. "Are you gay?" he asks, and I nearly choke on my cappuchino. I should really just not drink when he's around.
"Uhm..." I say, unsure of how to respond. He stares at me. "Yes?" He sighs, smirking to himself as he looks back down at his newspaper.
"I figured. I know you've been watching me for a few weeks, but I wasn't sure if you were after me or Quinny." I make a face at the thought of wanting in Quinn's pants, and Cove laughs, startling me again. "Yeah, I know, kind of a horrifying prospect isn't it. She can be a bit much." I don't dare nod. I barely know Quinn, and the last thing I want to do is offend Cove by agreeing with his friend-bashing. I remember to be embarrassed that he's found me out, and the blush creeps up from my neck.
"So, do you want to fuck or what?" I blink. And swallow hard. And blink again.
"Now?" I ask stupidly, and Cove raises an eyebrow mockingly.
"Yes, now, right here. Let's fuck," he says unblinkingly, though not loud enough for anyone else to hear. Which I'm glad for. "I meant in general. Tonight. This weekend. Whenever we're both free." Well, wow. I think about it for a few moments, then blurt out before he changes his mind.
"I have finals tonight and tomorrow. And a seminar most of Friday. I'm free Saturday?" He sighs, thinking for a moment, and nods.
"Saturday it is. You have roommates?" I shake my head, and I'm glad I kicked my worthless potthead roommate out at the beginning of semester. "What's your address," he says as if it's the most offhand thing in the world. Oh, we're just going to fuck. No big deal. I tell him my address, and he types it into his phone. "Six o'clock good? Pm." I nod. "I'll be there," he says, glancing at the door just as Quinn walks in. She grins and waves at both of us. Cove goes back to reading his newspaper and Quinn and I are left to talk about pointless things until 11:30 rolls around and I'm left feeling giddy and suddenly horrified. I'm a virgin. I've never had sex. I know how sex goes. I've watched a lot of... instructional videos. And I've read plenty of smut to know that his "throbbing purple-headed staff" goes into my... well... you know. But like any nerd, I feel the sudden need to learn everything about sex as soon as I can.
Instead of cramming last-minute for my final, I rush to the book store just down the street. Some tiny little bookstore crammed with hundreds of titles and authors. The guy at the front desk/till has a monocle. Like the Monopoly guy. Different mustache, though. He's got one of the front windows propped open, and the sun's shining in past the grate bars. He has a vase filled with half-wilted sunflowers on the desk next to the till. How... homey. He grunts a greeting to me, and I incline my head, heading for the self-help section near the back. I search in vain for anything to do with sex, and then I spot it. A leather-bound book with gold letters on the spine. Kama Sutra. I glance at monocle guy. He's staring at me intently, like I'm about to shove a book into my jacket and run out the door. The thought crosses my mind.
I reach for a how-to book on the shelf above the Kama Sutra books. I hurriedly replace "7 Ways to Make A Girl Squirt" on the shelf, more horrified than before, and I grab for the Kama Sutra. I spot a "Baking For Dummies" book a few shelves down and snatch it up on my way to monocle guy's desk. I put the books face-down onto his desk, barcodes facing him and hoping he won't notice I'm buying a sex book.
"Kama Sutra, eh?" He notices. I gulp, try not to blush, blush, and nod. He chuckles, pulls out a pocket watch to check the time, and rings up the books. I pay him in spare bills from my laptop case, and shove the books inside before hurrying down the street and back on campus to the library. I still have half an hour to cram before my final, and I feel slightly less on edge about the whole sex with Cove thing now that I have reading material to teach myself the art of sex.
I stay up until past midnight reading Kama Sutra, learning the secrets of sexual positions and ignoring the illustrated pictures of heterosex in the margins. I learn quite a bit. There's a section on male anal play, and I use the internet to read up on the prostate. And then I end up watching some por—educational videos, taking a shower, and going to bed with dirty thoughts about Cove on my mind.
Morning classes are off due to finals, and I wonder if Cove will even show up as I sit in my usual spot in Darwin's. Ten-thirty comes and goes, and I sigh with disappointment as eleven ticks past. I actually start to study, going over my finished essays, tweaking my bibliographies and reference pages, and Quinn scares the shit out of me when she plops down on the other side of the table and hands me a cup.
"Jesus, you scared me," I say after my heart settles back in my chest. I grab the coffee she hands me as she giggles.
"Oops. I got you a regular mocha, quad shot. You look tired." I take a long sip of the hot mocha, and savor it.
"Thank you, I owe you two drinks now. But yeah, was up late last night. Studying." I manage to hold back the telltale blush and she buys my story with a sigh.
"Finals are killers, man. I've been in the library since it opened at seven-thirty this morning. Needed a caffeine break, though. I see Cove's not here, he must be hitting the books too." I take another sip of coffee and give a big yawn. "So..." Quinn says, and I look at her, waiting. "Did he ask you?" she asks, and my stomach lurches. She knows Cove was going to ask me to have sex?
"Uhm. Ask me what?" Quinn sighs heavily.
"To go on a date?" She asks hopefully, and I'm slightly confused.
"Well... sort of? Yeah, I guess." A sex date, that counts, right?
"Ugh, what did the idiot say? I swear, he's pretty much a moron. Most socially awkward guy you'll ever meet, despite his tough and cool exterior. He's been talking about you for two weeks now, I've been trying to get him to ask you out."
"Oh. Well, he's um. Coming to my place Saturday night." I blush, and Quinn raises an eyebrow.
"For dinner, or...?" I blush harder, and she laughs.
"Oh Christ. Did he just ask to fuck or was he more eloquent than that?" Blush still deepening, I look down, embarrassed in more ways than one.
"He asked if I wanted to have sex with him." She sighs and reaches out to touch my hand.
"Nothing to be ashamed of, Griff. He's just an idiot, it's not like he was just going to use you and split. I wouldn't let him do that, at least. He's pretty smitten with you." I find that hard to believe, but I just shrug.
"Tell you what," she says, leaning in and glancing around conspiratorially. "Turn it into a date. Make him dinner. Nothing too fancy. He likes Asian food. Make sure your place is cleaned up, Cove's a neat freak. Clean sheets. A touch of alcohol to calm both of your nerves. And voila! Guarantee he'll ask you out after that." I consider it for a moment, then nod.
"Thanks, Quinn," I say, still blushing. She smiles shrugging.
"I should get back to the library. Procrastination is definitely not one of my best ideas," she says with a grin, and I smile back. I know how that goes, especially with a hot angle boy on the brain.
Wednesday night flies by after my final, and I manage to finish most of my essays and complete the presentation I have to give at the seminar on Friday. I spend the rest of the night cleaning my apartment. It's not really dirty, but I clean, vacuum, organize, and rush out to Bed Bath & Beyond to pick up a few things. Candles, cinnamon and vanilla. A few new throw pillows for my couch. And the most important thing – sheets. A lady with an accent finds me staring up at the wall of sheets and asks if I need any assistance.
"Do you have any Egyptian silk sheets? With a really high thread count?" She smiles, a well-practiced smile that I blatantly read – she thinks I'm a moron. I don't like her already, but oh well.
"We 'ave Egyptian cotton sateen sheets right over 'ere." She points, and I grab a queen sized set. "Sateen cotton is made to feel like silk or satin. These sheets are of exquisite make and are far superior to lower thread counts of other sheets." I look at the price tag and blanch. The bitch smirks at me, and I give a hard, defiant smile.
"I'll take them." My bank account weeps as I pay for the expensive ass sheets. Cove better fucking appreciate them.
Walking home with my bag of goodies, I watched the sun set over the tops of the buildings. I walked past a street performer playing his acoustic guitar for spare change, and I paused to listen to him play. He was good, and the sound of his music mixed with the rumble of a train nearby made me acutely aware of the music of the city that I'd long become immune to. I handed him a five dollar bill, not wanting to leave it in his case so someone else could steal it, and he thanked me with a smile as he played on.
Thursday morning, I allowed myself to sleep in until nine-thirty. Showered, dressed, I eat my toast while I fantasize about Cove. Cove naked. Cove hard. Cove kissing me while he pounds me into the mattress. I leave my apartment with a satisfied smirk and head to Darwin's for my morning coffee. Darwin's is probably the best kept secret near campus. Great prices, free wifi with the purchase of a drink, and they'll let you stay in there all day.
I'm feeling adventurous. So I get one of their fancy sweet drinks loaded with chocolate and caramel. It tastes like a Snickers bar. I settle in at my table and start going over my presentation, changing my notecards as I go. I don't want to sound like an idiot, but I think that's probably inevitable. Public speaking makes me nervous.
I can't help but glance up each time someone walks in. Hoping, expecting to see Cove. And when he does walk in, I do a double-take. Holy hell. He's wearing a suit. A black three-piece suit. His hair is combed back and just.
"Damn." I didn't mean to say it out loud, but I did. He glances over at me and smirks. He fucking smirks, this sexy little smile, and god. Fuck. I want him. I want him right here, right now, against the wall. I just want to completely ravish him. Christ.
He orders his drink. And I stare at him and let the various scenarios play out in my head. Just as I start to wonder what noises he'd make if my lips were wrapped around his--
"Hi, Griffith." He sits down across from me. I take a deep breath, clear my throat.
"Hello, Cove. You're looking quite dapper today," I say, and he smiles. Actually smiles. None of that smirking stuff. I nearly melt.
"Are we still on for Saturday?" he asks, and I don't hesitate.
"Six o'clock at my place. Unless you're free at five, I wouldn't mind having you over a bit earlier," I say, and he considers it for a moment then nods. "Why the suit?" I ask, and he shrugs.
"Speech today, thought I'd dress up nice." He grabs a newspaper off a nearby paper and sets to reading it. I try to go back to my presentation, but I can't. I want him. I have a hardon in a coffee shop for Cove. I feel slightly perverted. Only slightly. I can't concentrate, so I indulge in my fantasies and let them play out. Which doesn't help with my erection, but still. It keeps me from lunging across the table and tearing Cove's suit off just so I can lick his nipples and hump his leg. Quinn doesn't show up. Eleven-thirty comes and goes and Cove is still sitting there reading his paper. Noon rears its ugly head, and Cove folds his paper with a sigh.
"Better go rehearse one more time," he says with a sigh that's edged with nervousness, and I nod, yawning and stretching as I close my laptop and slip it into my messenger bag. Thank god my erection's gone, though I still can't stop thinking about Cove naked. What he must look like. So lean an smooth and ugh.
"I should get to the library and study for a few hours." We stand at the same time and head for the door. I leave a tip on the table like I always do. Just a dollar and some change, but most people leave nothing but their trash.
Cove walks with me, matching my pace, and our hands bump each others' a few times before I finally shove my hands in my pockets so I don't grab his. He sighs softly, and I glance over at him. His brow's furrowed. He looks adorable. At the steps to the library, I pause, and so does Cove.
"You'll do fine," I tell him, and he shrugs with a small smile.
"Study hard," he says before he leans in and kisses me chastely on the lips. He pulls back only slightly, enough to look at my reaction, and I can't help but give in a little. I lean forward and kiss him back. It's not a messy porno kiss, nor is it a dry closed-mouth kiss. There's a little bit of tongue, lots of lip action, and it leaves my stomach all fluttery and me looking stupid with a grin on my face. Cove smiles at me before walking off toward the Jenkins auditorium.
It takes me over an hour to get my focus back so I can concentrate on my studies.
Friday goes by in a blur. The seminar goes well, my presentation isn't a complete failure, and when I get home, I wish I had Cove's number to call him. Or text him. Or something. I get to bed early, anticipating the next day. Friday morning, I go grocery shopping. I wonder what Cove likes to drink, and I end up buying three different types of soda and some orange juice. I have no idea how to cook Asian foods, so I decide to settle on stir fry. That's kinda Asian, isn't it? I buy chicken and beef, and a bag of stir fry veggies and some yakisoba noodles. I also grab some ice cream – plain vanilla – and some strawberry sauce and caramel sauce. I set out some candles to burn when I get home, so my apartment smells nice.
I clean some more, watch TV, watch the seconds tick by on the clock and try to will it closer to five o'clock, to no avail. Three o'clock finally rolls around, and I'm in my bedroom taking inventory. I have condoms and lube and a few sex toys in my nigh stand. I have a blindfold and a pair of cheap handcuffs one of my friends got me for my 20th birthday. I'll let Cove decide if he wants to use them or not.
I suddenly wonder if I should give myself an enema or not. Maybe I should. I pull out the enema bulb I'd bought years ago – just in case – and read the box.
For safe and effective evacuation of bowels, apply one or two bulbs full of warm water into the rectum, wait approximately ten minutes or until the bowels are stimulated.
I grimace. Ew. But, a gay boy's gotta do what he's gotta do. I open the box, turn on the tap, and fill the basin with warm water. And I do my business. It feels weird. Not entirely unpleasant, but definitely not fun or stimulating. Especially when it starts to kick in and I'm stuck on the toilet for fifteen minutes.
I wash my hand four times afterwards, slightly disgusted with the whole ordeal, and check the clock again. Almost four. I know I should start dinner around four-thirty. I just hope Cove shows up at five like he said and doesn't wait until six.
Four-thirty has me browning the meat and adding stir-fry veggies I'm rocking out to music when the knock on the door comes. The nerves hit me as I walk to the door and open it. Cove smiles in at me, looking slightly nervous and that makes me feel a bit better. He has a small overnight bag with him. He takes a step forward, kissing me on the cheek.
"Cooking?" he asks as he walks in and slides his shoes off near the door. I nod, walking back to the kitchen to stir the food. Cove stares around my apartment, looking slightly impressed. "And a clean house. What a domestic queen." I think he's joking. I hope he's joking, because I'm really not the housewife type. I start the yakisoba noodles and show Cove around. He eyes my DVD rack. "Not much taste in movies," he notes, and I shrug.
"To each his own." Cove nods, looking around. His eyes pause on each candle I have lit around the living room. "No dining table?"
"Nah, no room and no need. It's just me, and I have a couple of --- these." I pull two TV trays out from between the couch and the wall, and Cove snorts out a laugh.
"Seriously? You didn't strike me as the TV dinner type." I nudge his arm and hand him one of the trays, which he sets up at the other side of the couch.
"Coke, Pepsi, or rootbeer?" I ask. "Or I can make us a screwdriver," I offer on second thought.
"Coke, and a screwdriver would be nice. Small glass if you have one, half and half." I nod and head back to the kitchen, stirring the noodles and stir fry, and pouring us each a screwdriver. I grab myself a Pepsi, him a Coke, and then we dish up. I carry my plateful of stir fry to my side of the couch, Cove following suit.
"I wasn't expecting dinner," he says, eying the stir fry. "Looks and smells good, though." I accept the compliment.
"Thanks. I figured I might as well feed you if you're over this early." I turn the music off and the TV on, and flip through the channels until something interesting comes on. He compliments my cooking, and I thank him. Otherwise, we eat in silence while we watch a few episodes of That 70's Show. Cove helps me clean up afterwards, and I feel the vodka help me relax.
"Bathroom?" Cove asks, and I point him the right way. I hope I remembered to put the enema bulb up. The sound of sirens in the street outside catches my attention, and I hurry over to the window. I open it and step out onto the fire escape to get a better view. Looks like a drug bust. I'm leaning on the railing watching what's going on below, trying to hear what the drug dealer is shouting, when Cove walks up to the window behind me and climbs out onto the fire escape with me.
"You jump, I jump. Remember, Rose?" he says, and I can't believe he just made a Titanic reference. What's more – I can't believe I realized it was a Titanic reference.
"You're crazy," I tell him, and he shrugs.
"Drug bust?" he asks, and I nod.
"Third one in that building this month. They should just condemn it or bulldoze it." We both stand in silence and watch before the chill gets to me. I shiver. "Brr, it's getting so cold." I can't help but smirk when Cove's arm wraps around my shoulders. That smirk is wiped away when he cranes his neck around to kiss me square on the lips and I'm not cold anymore.
It doesn't take long for us to move back inside, where it's warmer and more private. I try to remember what I'd read about. Erogenous zones, kissing techniques, body language – all of that's thrown out the window as my brain shuts down and instinct kicks in. Kisses grow more demanding, and there's a long moment where I struggle for dominance, but I lose out. Cove backs me roughly into the wall of the hallway, pressing his body close. I'm pretty sure he's bruising my lips kissing me like this, but I don't give a damn. As long as he keeps scraping his teeth across my bottom lip, I'm done. Complete putty in his hands, and he works me like a pro.
Cove rolls his hips. I whimper into his mouth, the sweet mix of pleasure and pain coursing through me as his hip grinds into my erection. My heart's pounding and all I can hear is Cove breathing in my ear as he pauses for breath. His fingers are in my hair, gripping tight enough to sting when he jerks my head back and attacks my throat. He rolls his hips again, and I'm lost.
"You like that?" Cove breathes into my ear, and I nod, swallowing hard. "You want me to fuck you?" he asks, and I groan.
"God, yes." He's still grinding against me, and I can feel his erection and it's so surreal. I'm going to have sex. I'm going to lose my virginity. Cove licks my ear lobe, and I shudder.
"Beg," he says, grinding his hips particularly hard against my own, and I nearly choke on my own tongue.
"Pl-ease, Cove, please fuck me," I beg like a bitch, and Cove moans into my ear and it's the hottest thing I've ever heard. He pulls back suddenly, completely, and it feels cold without his body pressed against mine. He grabs my hand and pulls me to my bedroom. I let him pull off my shirt and help him with his pants. He wears boxers, and for some reason, I feel self conscious about the tight white briefs I'm wearing. They do nothing to hide the raging hardon I have.
Cove shoves me back onto the bed and crawls on top of me, lips attacking my own. I let my fingernails slide down his ribs, and I can feel him shudder. A downward glance during a pause for breath, and I can see the head of Cove's cock peeking out from the front of his boxers. I swallow hard, and Cove kisses me again.
He pins my hands above my head, kissing me while he slowly grinds down into me. "Ngh, fuck, Cove," I groan, and he does it again, grinning into the kiss. I moan, like a well-learned bitch, and I can tell this excites Cove even more. "Just fuck me, please, Cove."
I don't know exactly how many seconds it takes for Cove to get both of us completely naked. Not very many, though his hands are shaking a bit when they pull at my briefs. I'm completely hard, and slightly embarrassed. I'm not exactly big down there, if you catch my drift. Then again, I wouldn't consider myself small, either. Average, I guess, if that.
Cove's hand gripping my cock pulls me back into the moment, and I hiss through my teeth.
"You like that?" he asks, stroking slowly, gently despite his grip. I whimper out a few expletives, and Cove leans down to kiss my throat. He keeps stroking, making my toes curl. He's doing nothing different than what I do by myself – if anything, it's more sloppy – but it feels so much better. So, so much more intense, if only for the fact that this is Cove giving me a handjob. The sexy coffee shop guy I've been stalking.
"Spread your legs," he says, and I feel my face go red as I spread my legs for him. He pauses, hand gripping my cock still, and stares down at me. A moment of panic has me wanting to close my legs, curl into a ball, and cry. He's just staring, and I can't read his face. "God, you've got a gorgeous ass." My face burns brighter.
I chance a glance down toward his groin and have to bite my lip to keep from groaning. His left hand is still gripping my cock firmly, and I feel myself throb in his grasp while I watch his right hand expertly stroking himself. He stares at my exposed asshole a bit longer before meeting my eyes, and he grins sheepishly.
"Lube?" he asks, and I nod, pointing to the top drawer of my nightstand. He lets go of both of us, leaning down on hands and knees to kiss me deeply before crawling over to my nightstand, and god, the view. Now I think I know how he felt staring at my spread legs. He pulls open the top drawer of my nightstand, peering inside before letting out a laugh and pulling out one of my sex toys – a long, thin vibrator I've used only a few times before. He looks over at me, eyebrow raised, and I shrug, blushing a bit. The handcuffs are next, and he shakes his head, though I can tell by the look on his face that he wants to use them. He rifles around until he finds the lube and condoms and brings them back over with him.
I lay back and try to relax, try to take a few deep breaths, but it's hard not to get excited when Cove is staring at me like he is now. I watch him squirt a bit of the lube onto his fingers, pause for a few seconds, then slowly lower his hand between my spread legs. The lube is still a bit cold, but that doesn't change the fact that Cove is touching me where no other guy has before. He goes slow, fingers swirling gently around the puckered skin before one finger stops dead center and he pushes it slowly inside.
It's not extremely pleasurable. Kind of awkward, because really, it's just a finger in my asshole. How sexy is that? If it weren't for the fact that it was Cove, I wouldn't really have paid it much mind. But it is Cove, sliding his finger in and out, and our eyes meet.
A second finger slips inside of me, and I know I make a face. It's uncomfortable, and I try to will myself to relax. Cove goes slow, his hands ridiculously gentle. I get used to two after a bit, and he starts scissoring them to stretch me out more. Just before he adds a third finger, his other hand grips my cock and starts slowly stroking me.
"Co-oohhhhhhnnmmmm." My attempt to moan his name failed, but the burning in his eyes as he stares down at me tells me I didn't need to say the whole thing. Three fingers now, fucking me slowly, stretching me and getting me to relax as his other hand slowly strokes me. I could cum like this, without a doubt. I'm almost tempted to, but Cove pulls away before I can work myself up to the point. He wipes his hand on a discarded shirt – his or mine, I'm not sure. I'm too busy focusing on his hard cock, which seems impossibly large now. He's huge, I'll never be able to fit that inside of me.
I watch him dab a bit of lube on the head of his cock before he tears open a condom wrapper and slides the condom on. More lube, and he's sliding between my legs. He hooks his arms under my knees and hefts my legs up onto his shoulders. "Try to keep them there, it'll be more comfortable." I nod, swallowing hard as Cove reaches down to guide himself into me.
I try to relax, but I'm nervous. He goes slow, gritting his teeth and breathing hard. "Fuck, you're so tight," he nearly moans. It's uncomfortable, I'd even go as far as to say that it hurts, but I bite my lip and bear it. He moves slowly, sliding in a bit, out, in a bit more, until he's fully inside of me. I'm not completely hard anymore – pain is a pretty good cockblock, but it still excites me to watch Cove's face while he pants hard and controls his movements so carefully. I wonder for a few seconds how he knows that I'm a virgin, but the thought doesn't stay for long.
Cove lets my legs slide down to the crooks of his elbows, pushing them forward so my knees are almost against my chest, and he starts thrusting. It's nothing fantastic, but the pain at least starts to subside as I get used to him. A few thrusts later, and he's leaning down over me, face a few inches from mine as he looks into my eyes. Leaning down further, lips grazing my ear, he sighs and pauses.
One deep breath. "I'm about to make it worth it," he says in a husky voice that sends a rush of blood to my groin, and barely seconds later, he's fucking me. Hard. It's a bit sloppy at first, thrusts uneven and angles changing with each jerk of his hips, and then he hits something inside of me and I gasp. He thrusts the same way, and I gasp again, then moan.
"Oh, fuck, rightthere." He fucks me harder, thrusts smooth and to the point as he hits that spot over and over again, and I can barely breathe. Hands gripping the pillow above my head, I can already feel my orgasm burning through my groin, building up as he continues to thrust, and I can't breathe. Every inch of my skin is burning, exposed nerves to every touch, every breath of air Cove breathes out over me. My nipples are painfully hard, and my cock, my cock's throbbing and I don't think I've ever been this hard, this turned on, in my life.
I nearly pass out when I cum. I can't breathe, and every single part of me is burning with desperation more and more with each thrust. Back arched, every muscle in my body tense. "Ngh, fuck Cove, I'mgonnacum." He moans, desperation bordering on pain as he pants and thrusts hard. It's like a nuclear explosion. Everything goes white, then black, and I swear I'm dying. But god, if this is dying, I want to die a thousand deaths. A hundred thousand. A million. I think you get the point.
I'm just coherent enough to listen to Cove cum, which is nearly as delicious as cumming myself. "Ohhh, fuck Griiiiff." The aftermath is mostly labored breath, shaking limbs, and that sticky cold feeling of cum drying on my stomach. It takes a few minutes for both of us to catch our breath. By the time I can fully think again, Cove's pulled out of me and is lying next to me, panting as he carefully pulls the condom off his deflating cock.
"That was," I pant, and Cove looks over at me with heavy-lidded eyes. "Fucking amazing, Cove," I manage to get out, and Cove smiles, leaning in to kiss me.
"Was it worth it?" he asks, and I can feel myself blush through my already flushed complexion.
"God, yes." A few more moments to wind down, and I have to get up to clean the cum off my stomach and wipe up the excess lube. Cove joins me in the bathroom, kissing my shoulders as I stand at the sink brushing my teeth. I let him use my toothbrush when I'm done, and I catch him rubbing at his neck and wincing. "You okay?"
"Just a little crick, nothing I can't sleep off," he says, shrugging. I wait for him to finish brushing his teeth. Back in the bedroom, kissing Cove's shoulders, I start massaging his neck. He moans softly, leaning into my touch. It's nearly midnight before we get to sleep, and it's a great sleep at that. Curled up in Cove's arms, it's definitely something I could get used to.
I know, shitty place to stop. May or may not write more to this, but for now we'll safely say this is The End.
Reviews much appreciated!