Feel Like Making Love
The sun from the window was slanted wrong, teasing light tinged red through his eyelids. An unfamiliar, but rousing weight was lying across his chest, over his legs. Breath, in rhythmic puffs tickled the skin on his shoulder. Warm, soft flesh, curved under his fingertips.
He blinked his eyes opened, feeling his cock hardening from the lingering scent of their sex the night before. Dorothy shifted under his hand, her legs parted. He watched as her eyelids lifted a fraction and her mouth opened in short panting breathes. She was as beautiful then in first morning light as she had been the night before and he was kissing her even as he felt her body shuddering, felt the slick wetness coat his fingers.
"Morning," he murmured, trailing kisses down from her mouth to her neck.
Dorothy was making shivery agreeable noises, her hand cupping his hip. "Good morning."
Her dorm room bed was too narrow for more than lying face to face. "Whenís your roommate coming back?" he was asking, teasing a nipple and keeping time stroking lazily with his fingers.
"This afternoon." She was arching into his mouth and trying to draw her knees up.
"Good," was all Quatre said before rolling her under him, and crouching between her legs. He plied lips and tongue to her nipple again, his hand angling his cock; her legs were already parted, her breath held with eyes wide open.
And he was sliding inside, Dorothyís gasp a lingering sigh and her fingernails bit into the flesh of his shoulders. He settled deep, her thighs squeezing tight on his hips as his cock was being squeezed and held. He closed his eyes but snapped them open at Dorothyís command.
"Eager?" he drawled but was moving, his need also urgent.
She didnít answer, but her eyes were flashing and a hand slid down his side and was firmly planted on his ass. When he slowed to test, she encouraged his pace. It was too soon; he wanted more. Dorothy was already making those little panting whines letting him know how close she was. His body reacted, driving in quick thrusts, bringing him to the brink and her shuddering and clenching pushed him over. He was coming, saying nonsense things and cradling her close, kissing her neck, her chin, her mouth.
His breathing steadied, and he still lay on her, letting one of her hands finger through his hair and the back of one of her heels rub at his calf. She was watching him through half-closed eyes, a liquid smile on her lips.
"I mean it, you know," he whispered, kissing her mouth, wishing she wouldnít look at him like that.
She only smiled softer and brought a hand up to touch his face. "Iím sure you do."
He couldnít help but jerk away from her touch. "Damnit! How many times do I have to say it for you to believe me? I love you."
And Dorothy laughed softly, rising up to kiss him, clenching vaginal walls around his softening cock. "My dearest Quatre, you are such a boy." She arched up into him, covering his mouth with hers at his protest. "A very talented one, but still such a boy."