Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Chapter 40: The Gift



 



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A/N: Why, hello there.  Long time, no see.  We have not died; just surgery, apathy, weeping, the usual, ya know, life.

I will preface this chapter by saying only that it may... well, depending on your particular proclivities, this may... I DON'T WANT TO RUIN IT, but just know that you are WARNED.  It contains something a little different, but all in the interest of the story.

Download link for this motherfucker if that's your preference: http://www.mediafire.com/?aw8s5tks4484ost







Chapter 40: The Gift
“Dickhead sent you something,” I said, tossing a box at Rob that had a return address of one William Herbert, who just so happened to live at the same address as Tom.
Rob burst out laughing.  “This was the name of his character in the movie where he played Shakespeare’s lover.  Fuck, what was it called?  A Waste of Shame!” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers.  He chuckled, “It was awful.  This is also addressed to you, not me,” he said, handing the box back to me.
My brow furrowed and I took the box again, wondering what the fuck Tom would be sending me.  Rob’s eyebrows went up and he was looking at me like I should know what was in it.  “More weed?” I asked, shrugging and peeling at the tape on the end of the box.
“He must be smoking fields, then.  I don’t think we need any more weed for like… years.  The first box was enough to last–” that’s as far as Rob got when I had the box open and took out the contents.
Which basically was a… dildo.  There was no way around it.  Tom had sent me a dildo in packaged plastic.
“What the fuck is that and why did Tom send it to you?” Rob asked, obviously rather alarmed.
Not as alarmed as I was, however, as… that was just… you just didn’t… what the FUCK was he thinking?  Then I saw the note, which read:
California Girl,
Just a little gift I picked up in case you’re running out of ideas for ways to disturb other guests, or if Rob’s dick has fallen off from all the shagging, you’re still set.
Give my best to the tosser.
Love and kisses,
Tom
P.S. This is the sparkly vampire dildo – it’s supposed to be the most like Rob’s.  How they know that, I don’t want to know, but enjoy!
I burst out laughing and gave a confused and slightly offended Rob the note.  I giggled while he read it, and his gaze met mine, dropping to the dildo, and he still was kind of… put off.  He abruptly went back to the couch and I smirked, following him and bringing the box with me.
He looked at the box like it was something to murder, quietly seething.  “The fuck did he send you that for?”
I laughed some more.  “It’s a joke, Rob.  He’s messing with you.  And it’s working.”
Rob huffed and crossed his arms over his chest.
I really couldn’t stop smiling.  Because it was damn funny and Rob just wasn’t getting the joke.  I mean, the package even had sparkles all over it, and dildo itself was covered in some kind of glitter.  So I spun it a different way, “I know the best way you can get back at him for it.”
Rob’s brow arched and he turned his head in my direction.
“We can use it together,” I suggested, my hand darting out, a lone finger trailing from behind his ear and down to the collar of his shirt.
He blinked at me twice.  And then grabbed the dildo and my hand and started pulling me down the hall.  I let out a surprised laugh and followed willingly then.  He spun me around and pushed me on the bed when we got into the bedroom, obviously quite eager now to get back at Tom.  He threw the dildo on the bed and started shucking clothing.  I was happy to just lie back on the bed and watch him.  He did it quickly, full-on efficiency here, and then started on my clothes, literally ripping the jeans off of my legs and tossing them behind him.  He was cute when he got like this.  Half-mad, all horny and super fucking hot.  He shoved my shirt up and gave me this look, this one that basically said get rid of it.  I chuckled and managed to wrestle myself out of the shirt, losing the bra in the process as well.  He was busily removing my panties while I was wrestling and then we were good to go.  I shifted up on the bed more and he kneeled and hovered over me.  
“So how do you wanna do this?”
I smirked, “I’m open to lots of possibilities.”
“Are you now?”
“Yes.”
“I wanna watch,” he said a moment later.  I raised a brow and he smirked back at me. “Hey, you said you were open to possibilities.”
I nodded, my mouth morphing into an amused pout, and grabbed the package, handing it to him.  “Take it out.”
He took it from me and very efficiently had it unwrapped in a second.  He looked at it up close now, smirking himself at the glittery cover, and then dropped his gaze to me.  “Do you want lube?”
I shook my head, “I think I’m good for now.”  Truth was, the minute I suggested playing with it, I was wet.  Because any prospect of any type of sex with him made me that way.
I held my hand out for the dildo and he lazily brought his gaze up to mine, “Touch yourself.”
Hmm.  I think he was quite enjoying this already.  He shifted to a more comfortable position, his eyes glued to my hands, one of which was running down my chest and over my breast, kneading, while the other I let travel between my legs.  I ran two fingers down the sides of my center, my thumb already rubbing over my clit.  I moaned and Rob’s breathing instantly changed.  I brought my middle finger to my slit, running it up and down the wetness before letting it dip inside.  My hips rose on their own power, and I added another finger, rubbing and moving them in and out.  I moaned again as I spread the wetness all around, my fingers circling my clit.
My eyes had closed somewhere in the middle of all of this, and I forced them open when I felt the bed shift.  Rob had moved closer, and I could tell he was itching to touch me, to help, to put his own fingers inside.  He licked his lips and I smirked at him, his whole body vibrating with want and anticipation.  His cock was hard, already smearing pre-come on his stomach and I really wanted to lick it off, but I refrained.  He’d asked me to do this and I wanted to see it through.  I lazily let one hand drift to the bed and grabbed the dildo.  His eyes tracked my movements; short, little darts of vision between my hand and the bed and my center and my other hand, all trying to keep up with the progression.  My nipples were like pebbles, my legs spread wide, Christ, no wonder he was vibrating.  The visuals were making me wetter by the second.  
I locked eyes with him and he was warring with himself, I could tell.  He really wanted to participate.  I ran the head of the dildo through the wetness, through my folds, rubbing it over my clit and moaning, hips jutting, chest pushing upward.  Rob was near panting, his hand fisted his cock roughly and his other locked on my thigh, just waiting for the moment when I was going to push the cock inside.  I didn’t make him wait long; I didn’t really want the tease myself.  The buildup was making me anxious, I wanted it inside me as much as he wanted to watch.  I dipped it inside once, just the head, circling and spreading the wetness before I pushed it in farther.  
Rob groaned, and it mingled with mine, as I pushed the dildo deeper inside, twisting it slightly and pulling it out to coat it.  Rob let out a very distinct ‘fuck,’ of which the ‘u’ was dragged out about eight syllables too many.
I felt the bed shift again and he was lying next to me, his hardness pressing into my thigh, smearing more pre-come.  I turned to look at him, amused by the way his attention was so divided between watching my face, my chest, my hands, my pussy, everything.  He breathed out slowly, trying to calm himself down, and I couldn’t stop smirking.
 “Can I?” he asked.
I nodded, happy to let him take over and just experience all the feelings instead.  It was much more pleasant and fulfilling to have him do it, and I could just reap all the benefits and pleasure.  It wasn’t like he wasn’t enjoying himself.  I removed the toy and held it out to him and he was delighted that he got to push it in himself.  Like, seriously, the grin on his face was almost too much.  
He looked so adorably cute, too, when he shifted downward.  Like he was planning or plotting shit out.  He spread me gently, running the head over my slit, and dipped it inside like I had, pushed it in a little and pulled it out, in and out, in and out, before pushing it deeper.  His vision started bouncing between my face and his hands again, watching as I arched my back when he pushed it all the way in, my legs shifting and my hands gripping at the sheets, my breasts, tweaking my own nipples.  The room was filled with this amalgamation of so many sounds: the wet sounds that the cock was making as he pushed it in and out, twisting and turning it inside me; the gasps and breathy sighs I was uttering; the grunts and pants and moans we were both letting out.  He was making just as much noise as I was and it was all because of what he was doing to me, what he was making me feel.  We both got off on that.  Thoroughly.  
Then he started talking.
“So amazing.  You should see what you look like… all flushed, and Christ…”
“I wanna taste you,” he whispered, his voice all raspy and gritty as fuck.  
And his mouth was on my clit a second later, sucking it into his mouth while he pressed the dildo in, changing angles, and I shoved myself back down on him, my hands gripping his head as he swirled his tongue around me and sucked and blew air across me and, dear GOD, the boy was good at this.  He knew just where to put his tongue, how to flatten it, when to suck on my clit and when to back off, when to pay more attention to the right side because it was way more sensitive than the left, but the orgasm was always better when he stayed mostly on the left.  Which was, of course, exactly what he was doing now because he knew my body better than I did sometimes, and I was so far gone, coming in a rush and shouting his name, my walls clenching on the toy, grappling for purchase while he twisted it inside me.
“Shit, Kristen,” he said, watching me writhe and buck along with his fingers and the toy.  
He licked and sucked me gently, bringing me down slowly, pressing the cock in and out lazily while running his free hand up and down my abdomen, a warm and heavy presence, calming and soothing and so very welcome as my body had the equivalent of an orgasmic seizure only moments ago.  My breathing was fucked, and my hands were shaking and reached for him, wanting more contact.  
He eased the dildo out and moved up to lie next to me, propping his head on his elbow and let the other just rest over me.  I leaned over and kissed him, his mouth tasted like me and I would never deny that I loved that.  
“That was seriously fucking hot,” he said, smirking.
“Mmm, glad you thought so.”
My hand sought him out, still hard and leaking profusely, and I stroked him lazily like he’d done at the end with the toy.  He angled his body more toward mine, so his chest was almost meeting mine, and groaned into my ear.  
“You need to come,” I said.
“Yeah, I really, really do,” he agreed.
I chuckled and stepped up the stroking, his hips pushing and pulling with me.  I ran my thumb over his head and slit before rubbing under the head and that was all she wrote.  I was actually surprised he’d lasted that long.  He fused his mouth to mine while I went back to the lazier strokes, my hand covered in come.  He hummed in my ear, his head pressed between my head and shoulder.  “I’m not sure now if I want to murder him or hug him.”
I chuckled, “Yeah, I think his plan backfired.”
We both started giggling.  “Totally backfired.”
I let his cock go and brought my hand up, licking the come off as he let out another breathy exhale, “It is way beyond the epitome of sexy when you do that.”
I smirked, making an extra show of sucking it off.  
His hand immediately went down to his cock again, “Shit.”
I waited patiently while he regulated his body and, when he let go of his cock, I brought his hand to my mouth and did the same thing with his fingers, sucking them into my mouth and licking the stickiness off of his palm.
“Fuck, Kristen,” he said loudly, shoving his hips at me.  “Turn over.”
I giggled.  I mean it wasn’t like I was unhappy about any of this.  I loved driving him completely bat-shit crazy with need.  
Also, I thoroughly enjoyed having sex more than once with him.  Or, like, all night.  And after the hyperawareness and erotic watching me touch myself shit, we were both so on edge it wasn’t even really funny.  And him behind me – I never thought I’d enjoy doggy style sex that much.  But then, he’d shown me a lot of things that I never thought I’d enjoy that much.  He had a way of opening me up to things that meant little before but became so much more when experienced with him.  It took a very short amount of time for both of us to come this way.  After I had one orgasm, the others that followed came rather steadily I must say.  He was a talented guy.  And he knew where to push, where to press, that rubbing my clit while simultaneously grating against my front wall was a surefire way to make me nearly rip the sheets off of the bed.  And I alternately knew that the minute my muscles started fluttering around him, it’d suck the orgasm right out of him.  And then we basically collapsed in a heap on the bed.  
Literally.
He was still inside and his entire weight just crashed onto me and I laughed when he groaned and pushed his forehead into the space between my shoulder blades.  “Fuck.”
He pressed light kisses there, shifting enough to move some of his weight and pull out of me.  His hand spread over my shoulder and back, the pads of his fingers feathering over my skin, spikes of sensual pleasure surging up my neck and the back of my head, like thousands of little pins and needles.  He hummed happily while just resting on me there and I made no attempt to move, happy to just rest there with his warm weight against me.  
I squirmed slightly when I could feel his come trickling out, tickling across my clit, and ground down into the bed.  
He chuckled and moved his hand down, swiping the trickle away for me.  
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
“Pretty sure it was mine,” I said, chuckling.  “Where’d you put it?”
“Put what?”
“The come.”
“It’s probably on the sheets now.”
I sighed.
“What?”
“I would have licked it off your fingers.”
He snorted, “You’re very oral tonight.”
I pushed back, elbowing him.  “You never seem to complain.”
“Nope.”
“You remember when I did that on television?”
“What?  Stuck your finger in my mouth and removed food from my teeth in front of millions of people watching the internet?  No, I don’t recall it at all.”
I chuckled, “I was pretty flirty that day.”
“I had to go beat off after we were finished with the interview that day.”
I craned my head back, “You did?!”
“Yes.  I had to do that frequently during Twilight filming.”
For some reason that really made me giggle.  Like I couldn’t stop.  
“I’m glad you’re amused,” he said but chuckled with me.
“Was I really that bad?”
“Oh, my GOD, Kristen.  Bad?  You were like… you were like the biggest flirt that day it wasn’t even funny.  Spouting off about spending endless nights around your dining room table and willingly admitting to the world that I showed you Last Tango in Paris.  Christ, it’s a wonder I wasn’t arrested right there.”
“I was 17,” I defended.  “It was NC-17.  I was legal.”
“You were a month shy of legal for everything else, though.”
I shrugged.  He chuckled.  
“Have you ever done anal?”
“Yes.”
“With?”
“I had a very fleeting romance with a rather kinky girlfriend for all of a couple weeks.  She was into anal.”
“Did you like it?”
“I think I was too young to really understand what it meant, but, yeah, it felt good.”  He squeezed me gently.
“So… have you thought about doing that with me?”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss into the back of my neck, “Kristen, I’ve thought about doing everything with you.  There is nothing I haven’t thought about doing with you.”
I smiled.  Which, of course, he couldn’t see, but that was ok.
He squeezed me again, “Is that something you want to do?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
I could feel the smile in the next kiss that grazed my neck.  “We can do anything you want.”
“I know.” I paused.  “I want to do everything with you.”
“Thank you,” he said, his mouth peppering kisses all along my neck and upper back.  “Have you ever?”
“Nope.”
“What about fingers or toys?”
“Nope.”
“We can start there if you’d like.”
“Should I get the butter?” I asked, smirking over my shoulder.
He snorted, “Most definitely not.”  
Instead, he moved away for a minute and reached in the nightstand drawer.  He started kissing his way down my back, his hands rubbing and massaging the muscles, and he kept going until he was between my legs again.  He massaged and kneaded the globes of my ass and dug his thumbs into the muscles where my ass met my thighs, which felt incredibly good.  I shifted my legs and sighed contently, my whole body going slack and pleasantly relaxed.  His hands never left me and he continued to kiss all around the globes, his scruff actually tickling more than anything, which he kept chuckling about when I’d moan and kick my legs at the same time.  Now, I’m a bright girl, and it’s fairly evident, when with a guy, which parts of you he likes.  Rob wasn’t exactly particular about things, he loved everything, but the boy really did love my ass.  So I got the distinct impression that he was rather enjoying himself here.  
And I couldn’t let that go.  “I think you may have an unhealthy attachment to my ass, Rob.”
He snickered and pressed a kiss to the skin between my pussy and my anus, “Kristen, it’s edible.”
I laughed and kicked a foot at him, which quickly turned into a moan when he pushed two fingers inside my core suddenly, while his tongue made one long stripe up.  He spread my cheeks with his other hand and, honestly, it was hard to concentrate on what he was doing.  Because one hand was completely occupied with making my g-spot explode in sensation, while the other was obviously assisting in something I should be paying attention to.  I mean, I didn’t want to miss anything.  However, I realized when his tongue darted out and slowly licked around the tight opening, he was doing this on purpose to distract me, if I was nervous or uneasy or whatever, as if that would ever be possible with him at all.  His tongue, though, fuck, it felt amazing.  He sealed his mouth over me and I could feel the tip of his tongue prodding and circling, and it was sort of odd, different, but completely incredible.  Hot, wet, heat.  So wet, and the wriggling and jabbing his tongue was doing was just making me incredibly horny.  It was the feelings, yes, but the fact that he was totally willing to do this, that there were no barriers, nothing that wasn’t acceptable, my God.  It took my breath away.  
He slipped his fingers out of me and I heard the lube being uncapped and capped again.  He spread some over my ass, circling, and pressed a kiss to my cheek, which I took to be his warning that he was going to start.  
His finger was slow and tentative; he only dipped it in slightly and then pulled it back and started all over again.  My muscles were completely relaxed, I mean he had me at like rag-doll consistency here, but it was like involuntary response.  The muscles clamped on anything there.  So he just worked it slowly, his other hand caressing over my ass and his mouth pressing kisses wherever he reached.  And then he slowly began dipping the finger inside, to the first knuckle, the second, curling his finger slightly.  I can’t really even begin to articulate the sensations.  Tight.  Tingly.  It made my thighs all tingly and shaky and prickling sensations kept prickling over my nipples, and I kept grinding my clit into the bed.  He kept up the one finger for a long time, dipping it in as far as he could go and thrusting it lazily in and out of me, just like his cock would be if he was in me.  He’d twist it every so often, or move his finger in circles, slowly and gently stretching me and, fuck, I became completely incoherent, whimpering into the sheets and jerking my feet and legs on the bed.
I came when he added a second finger.  Screaming into the bed as the orgasm ripped through me.  It was like it was even more intense than a normal orgasm, and my ass clenched so powerfully over his fingers, my clit burning.  He used the orgasm to spread me further, to stretch the tight ring of muscle, and as I was in the middle of the screaming orgasm, I really didn’t give a fuck.  It was obvious, like most things with sex between us, that he knew exactly what he was doing with me.  
“Do you want to stop?” he asked, slowly stroking his fingers in me as I came down.
My hands flailed and I had no idea how I even mustered the brain power to answer because I was pretty sure my brain was liquefied, but I shook my head wildly and managed, “No.”
He coated the toy with enough lube for like twenty people, I was quite sure, and took a minute to circle it around the rim like he had with his fingers, prodding and pressing it barely inside.  
And I’m not going to lie and say it wasn’t a little bit uncomfortable, because it was.  No amount of fingers or him sucking, licking, stroking, whatever, can really prepare you for this massively bigger thing.  With the initial push, the head of the dildo made me gasp, I clenched and then immediately let go, trying to stay relaxed and goddamn, the head creating this searing, burning sensation as the muscle was forced wide.  But once the head of the cock was past the tight ring of muscle, sliding the rest in was nothing.  I flailed for his hand while he was pushing it in, just needing some part of him to hang onto, and once it was all the way in I could let go and just relax again.  It was a completely different kind of penetration, but the mechanics were the same.  And it felt so fucking good.  All tingles.  It was all fucking tingles.  All over, but the lower half especially.  And for some reason it seemed hardwired to my nipples as well.  
He just held it inside me, keeping it pushed in to the hilt, and I just tried to get used to the sensation.  When it was inside completely, filling and stretching me, I just felt incredibly full, and it carried with it an ache, deep and bottomless, not necessarily painful but intense and different from the feel of his cock in me.  Like a pulsing sensation, deep and almost cramping, but it felt amazing.  I realized then that the pulsing was my own – I could feel my own pulse around the toy, like a ticking clock, steady and consistent.  All of the fullness was great, yeah, but I really wanted him to move it.  I squirmed slightly and he chuckled.
“Try to push it out,” he said quietly, his voice making me shiver.  He sounded incredibly gravelly, his breathing spotty and near frenzied, like he had very little control left, but was going to give me whatever I wanted regardless.  I could feel the pressure from his hand subside, just lingering there, and I readjusted myself on the bed, contracting the muscles and trying to force the dildo out.  It went easily enough after a little bit of grating, and I figured out then when he said, “Good,” that me pushing it out would have been less painful than him trying to pull it out.  
He started fucking me slowly with it, his breathing getting even more wrecked, as I moaned and just let all of my muscles go.  When completely relaxed, and with the tight ring of muscles stretched and loosened, the thrusts in and out were extremely smooth and even.  He never went too fast, and his other hand kneaded the globes of my ass, his mouth dipped to press kisses into my lower back and ass.  Everything built slowly, but with so much more intensity.  I felt incredibly hot and I was just about grinding my clit through the mattress.  
His fingers moved there next, tracing down to my center, and he moaned so loudly I thought for a second that he’d come.  “Shit,” he said.  “Give me your hand,” his voice was raspy and rough, worse than before, completely broken and gritty.  
I dropped a hand down to him and he ran my fingers through the wetness before settling it over my clit.  Seriously, I was literally dripping on the bed; like a fucking puddle here.  
“Rub,” he ordered, and fuck yeah, you bet!
I think my actions were slightly stunted, though, or he was really impatient and my brain had to kick in again and then I could comply.  My clit was humming and when I started rubbing it, he pressed his own fingers inside my pussy, curling them and igniting an orgasm that completely blindsided me again and, fuck, clenching around the toy was so much better than his fingers in my ass.  It was so much bigger, and I had the added addition of his fingers in my pussy as well.  Mother of God.  I mean, I had, like, three completely separate orgasms here all combining into one.  Anal was incredibly powerful, compiled with a hugely intense g-spot and clitoral orgasm.  It was a wonder I didn’t pass out. Feeling the muscles clench in both places, too.  I… there are so few words.  
And holy fuck did I need him in me.  Now.  
 “Rob, please.”
He groaned into my lower back, his forehead pressing there like he was trying to, fuck – I dunno, not come?  Come?  Frustration mixed with an intensely weakening restraint?  Or perhaps more like, ‘What the fuck else could she want, I really need to get off?!’
“What, baby?”
“I need you in me.” Seriously, I would beg.  
His forehead pressed harder and he groaned again, panting.  “I… yeah,” he nodded against my back.  He gently pulled the dildo from me and moved back, half-kneeling, while I started to flip over.  I wanted to see him.  I needed to see him.  
“No, leave it in.  I want it in with you,” I said when I realized the fullness of the toy was gone.  
He shuddered.  Like… actually, full-out shuddered right there.  His cock actually looked rather painful, the head and just below it were somewhere between an angry dark red and a purple, hard for so long, and restrained so he could be gentle and slow with me.  He was covered in a sheen of sweat, the pre-come leaking from his cock was a mess of wetness all over his stomach and thighs, and I was actually kind of surprised he hadn’t come already.  He was as flushed as I was, too, redness all over his shoulders and neck and upper chest.  His muscles were quivering.  He needed to come badly.
He shook his head, almost gasping, “Kristen, the minute I get anywhere near you with my cock, I am so coming all over you.  I’m not even going to make it inside, I’m serious.”
Well, then.  I’d solve that.  I sat up abruptly, to the point that he almost lost his balance and backed up a bit.  What he thought I was doing, I have no idea, but I managed to completely surprise him and make him fall backwards when I leaned over and took his cock in my mouth.  
“Aw fuck, Kristen.  Shit.”
I’d take that as a compliment.
I’d also take it as a compliment when not more than ten seconds later he exploded down my throat, uttering more “fuck” “Kristen” “shit” and “Oh God’s” than should be legal.  I felt kind of bad, actually.  Because he’d obviously been holding off for, like, the duration of the entire evening, and other than when I got him off quickly—and when we had sex before we started the whole anal thing—it still must have been rather uncomfortable.  It really looked painful.  Like even his orgasm looked and felt that way.  His body was completely rigid and unyielding, as if his entire body was screeching at him in anger.  Muscles locked and his thighs were rock-hard and his upper body was actually jerking upward like he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted the orgasm to continue.  His cock was throbbing, pulsing out torrents of semen, and I was slightly concerned his balls were never going to descend again because they were drawn up so far.  I swallowed it all, my thumb massaging, fingers cupping his over overworked balls, licking his cock when it stopped its violent flow and ebbed to slower streams.  
“Jesus. Fucking. Christ,” he gasped, twitching on the bed, his body finally horizontal and released.
I chuckled, running my hand up and down his abs.  They jumped under my fingers, like he couldn’t even be touched without some sort of muscle going into spasm.  He pressed his hand over mine and made me stop moving.  “I need a minute,” he said, his other forearm resting over his eyes, his mouth open, teeth half-bared and trying to slow his breathing.  
His cock had jerked a few more times, spatters of come dotting his thigh.  I really, really wanted to lick it off, but I refrained.  He was too sensitive at the moment.  Instead I moved up and rested against his chest, tucking into his shoulder and just gave him some time.  His hand stayed resting over mine on his abdomen and the forearm stayed over his eyes, too.  
“Are you ok, honey?” I asked after a few minutes.  I mean, I was amused, but shit.  Poor Rob.
He was quiet for a minute, his breathing still hadn’t returned to normal.  “Mmm… I will be once my head stops throbbing.”
I snorted, “Really, are you ok?”
“Yeah.  I think my dick might actually fall off, though, so keep that dildo.  And give my love to Tom.”
I giggled.  
“Actually… sue his ass.  This is all his fault.  He’s the one who sent it.”
I pressed a kiss into his chest.  “Thank you.”
His arm moved from over his eyes, “For what?” he asked.
I smiled, amused he didn’t know.  Like he had no concept.  “For waiting, Rob.”
“Oh,” he said quietly, like the thought hadn’t even occurred to him.  That was what set Rob apart.
I snuggled into him more and his arm moved to hold me, our other hands still resting on his stomach.  
“I don’t think that’s something you have to thank me for,” he said after a beat.
“I think it is.”  I paused and then added, “I’m eternally grateful that you don’t even have the concept that it’s strange or that you’re hardwired just to do that, but… it’s not… most people aren’t that selfless.”
“I don’t think that was selfless at all, actually.”
“What do you mean?”
He inhaled and let it out slowly, “I mean you offering that or asking for it was like its own reward.  That you’d trust me with it.”  He shrugged lightly.  “Dunno, just doesn’t seem like I was sacrificing much.”
I turned my head up to look at him and then shifted and pressed a kiss lightly to his lips.  “Thank you,” I said, far more gratitude on a much larger scale of my appreciation than before.
“Mmm, you’re welcome,” he said, grinning.  “You taste like me.”
I smirked, “You taste like ass.”
He burst out laughing, pulling me closer as the laughter shook his body, and I chuckled into his side.  
“I’ve been saving that line since we started,” I admitted.  “You don’t really, but I was just waiting to spring it on you.”
He was still chuckling, “It was good.”
I tipped my head up and kissed his jaw, pressing my lips along the entire side, “What does it taste like?” I asked.  
“Hmm… well…” he inhaled and then blew it out, “it’s… I guess it’s a bit tangy.  There are certain things that don’t really have an equivalent to compare to, you know?  They just sort of have their own taste.  I don’t think I could accurately describe the way your pussy tastes, either.  I think the scent of both is far more distinct than the taste, and also completely indescribable.  But once you taste it or smell it, you never forget it.  Mostly you can just assign a few semi-descriptive words.”
I smiled.  One, because he always tried to answer me so seriously, so honestly, and two, because he was, of course, completely right.  “I can’t accurately describe the taste of your come, either, so yeah, I get it.”
He hummed at me, and the talk about come made me remember there was still some to lick off of him.  And, I mean… I wasn’t done with sex yet, either.  I had plans.  So I hoped he was ready.  I pushed off his chest and he looked down at me but let me move.  I basically smirked and then dove down on his cock.  No preamble, just licked the rivulets from his thigh before sucking the head of his cock back into my mouth and cleaning that up, too.  
“Shit,” he said, jerking.  
“Too soon?” I asked, teasingly licking at the retreating foreskin.
“No, it’s ok,” he said, still jerking slightly.  
“Good.”
He chuckled, “What did you have in mind?”
“I really want you in me.”
“I can do that,” he smiled.
“Good.  And I want the dildo in me, too.”
“Ok,” he said.  I was amused by his lack of… he was cool with just about everything.
“But I want to see you, too.”
He considered this, all scholarly and shit.  I could see the thoughts as they were running through his mind.  “Mmm… honestly, I think we’d need a plug for that to work.  If I try to fuck you with the dildo in your ass, it’ll just get pushed out.”
Ok, now, first.  Yes, Robert Pattinson just actually used a sentence in which reference was made to a butt plug.  I loved him so fucking much.  Second, I had thought about that.  
“Right, that’s why you should put your dick in my ass instead.”
His eyebrows rose, “You… I… Are you sure?”
“Is that so hard to believe?  I’ve just had the toy in there.”
“Well, yes, but… I’m happy to say I’m a fair bit bigger than the toy, Kris.”
“Thankfully,” I kidded back.
He was just looking at me.  I could see he was deciding and thinking again.
“You’ll go slow.”
“Of course.”
“And if I want you to, you’ll stop.”
“Obviously,” he said, shaking his head.
“You’re already going to be sore tomorrow, Kristen, this will only make it worse.”
“I think I can handle it.  It’s been worth it so far.”
He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly while his eyebrows rose again and he scrunched his mouth up in thought.
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.”
He nodded once.  And then promptly grabbed the dildo and left the room.  The fuck?  
“Where are you going?” I asked, pushing up onto my elbows.
“I have to wash this if I’m putting in your pussy.”
I giggled, “Smart man.”
He came back a minute later drying it off with a hand towel and, lemme tell ya, I never thought the day would come that Robert Pattinson would be walking out of our shared master bathroom, naked and drying a dildo.  
He set it on the bed and climbed between my legs, and I was all raring to go here.  And he sunk down and was going to plant his face on me again.  And… what?
“What are you…?”
Now, not that I was complaining or anything, but… I had a bit of an agenda here.  
“I’m gonna open you up again,” he said, looking at me, confused.
“Rob, I’m already open.  I’m way open.  Come on,” I said, making hand motions, urging him to move up my body.
“No.  You’re not.”
I looked at him incredulously.  What was he doing?  Trying to torture me some more?  Make me wait?  Did he like painful cocks?  Because I wasn’t doing this all over again.  I wanted him in me.  Now.  “Just come on!” I insisted.
He furrowed his brow and moved up on his elbows a bit, “No, I’m not just gonna stick my dick up your ass when you’re not ready.  I’ll hurt you.”
My head fell back in frustration, “Ugh.  I am ready, goddamn it.”
He let out his own frustrated deep breath and then suddenly a wet finger made its way inside my anus.  And I jerked, I will admit, rather painfully.  “Fuck.”
“There,” he said.  “See?  Amazing how fast it cinches up again, huh?”
I sighed, “That kinda sucks.”
“I’ll open it up again,” he assured me.  “Just relax.”
So I behaved.  And I waited.  And I relaxed.  And I shut up, because yeah, it was good, and he was awesome, and I should have just listened to begin with because he knew what he was doing, but I wasn’t going to tell him any of that.  He lifted my hips and my legs went over his shoulders and basically he turned me into a squirming mess again.  At least this time my position was opposite, so all the wetness just flowed back and aided in the slipperiness.  He started again with his mouth, his tongue, darting it around and in and, fuck, I never realized so much talent could be in just a tongue.  Fingers were next and he spent a long time scissoring and stretching and, seriously, I was sort of going out of my mind.  Anticipation was killing me.  Finally, after forever where I was gripping sheets and cursing at him for making my body shake so much, he moved closer, my thighs over his and my ass off the bed.  
“You’re sure?” he asked.  
“Yes. God, yes, please,” was my answer.  
He took a deep breath and nodded, lining himself up.  And this was kind of odd, because he was sitting back still, and I could see him of course, but I still couldn’t see what he was doing.  I could feel his head at my rim and he ran it over and over my opening, dipping in slowly just like his finger did.  He locked his eyes on mine and slowly started to push the head in.  Fuck.  He was a lot bigger than the dildo.  Like, A LOT.  It felt like a lot.  
Pain, more pain.  Fuck, lots of burning, and he was going so slowly, I could tell, holding himself back, not wanting to give me too much too soon.  But I was having serious thoughts of the whole ‘rip off the band-aid’ variety.  Sometimes just getting it all at once and getting it over with was better.  So I reached out and basically, nonverbally told him that with the hand movements.  I couldn’t talk; it was just too much.  He gave me the eyebrow raise again, but I think he got the point and thrust in more, the head forcing its way past my entrance.  
I clamped onto his hands and gasped, my body battling the response to shift away while I still wanted more.  This was so much more intense than the toy, too, which had been plenty intense to start.  But it was the heat, knowing that it was him, knowing that it was connecting us in this new and different way.  He stopped, looking at me, waiting for an indication that I wanted him to stop, but he didn’t get one.  So he shifted his hips again, pushing in some more, and, good GOD, did he never end?  Finally, after another gradual thrust, he was fully seated in me and stopped.  I looked up at him and he was waiting for me to adjust again, waiting for me to tell him it was ok to move.  Instead, I clenched around him and his head fell forward, his hips thrusting up into me.  
“Fuck.”
“Tell me,” I managed.
“You are so unbelievable tight, you have fucking idea.”
“You feel huge.”
He smirked but his face softened, “Do you want me to stop?”
“No.  I’m just saying,” I answered.  “Huge.”
The longer he was in, the less uncomfortable it became, the more open I was and the more pleasurable the in and out movement was.  The first few thrusts that he made were tentative and jarring, grating and discordant as the lube coated around him.  Once it was coated, though, and I let myself relax completely, then, fuck, it felt good.  
I made a grab for the toy and he followed my movements but he didn’t say anything, just shook his head, concentrating on not thrusting too hard or too fast.  He groaned and pushed in, stopping for a minute.  “I can’t… seriously, I can’t talk and do this at the same time,” he said with a smirk.
I waved the dildo in front of him.
“I think you need to get used to this first.”
“I’m used to it,” I argued.
He sighed, “You’re incredibly stubborn.”
“Yep,” I agreed, waving it in front of him again.
“I’m serious.  Give it a few more minutes.”
I sighed, but conceded, because he’d been right about everything else.
I thought fullness was just him in my ass.  Yeah, not so.  Because adding the dildo just meant I felt more of him, more of it, more of everything.  I felt him and the toy rubbing against each other through one very thin membrane inside me.  Seriously, you’d never think it was that thin if you didn’t experience this.  He held the toy still for the most part, just thrusting lazily into my ass and letting the sensation of that get multiplied when he’d rub against the dildo buried all the way inside my pussy.  Every so often, though, he’d change it up and start moving the toy with his thrusts, sometimes in the same pace and manner his hips were moving, sometimes the opposite, and when he did that opposite stuff, pushing in my ass while pulling the dildo out, and then pushing it in while he pulled out of my ass – I literally didn’t know which way was up or down or right or left or if I was in the bed anymore or, Christ, I could have been on Mars.  I have never felt so fucking full in my entire life.  
He pressed all the way into me and held himself there and shoved the toy in, too, one last time, and I fucking came screaming all over his cock and the toy, and he grunted and I forced him to come with me, every muscle in my body sealing him to me, compressing and squeezing him, the fluttering spasms so fucking intense and raw and present, like they were so fucking there that it seemed almost too much to comprehend.  
I screamed myself hoarse.  Literally.  
And I think we both kind of passed out.  Because I woke up a little while later and Rob was sort of sprawled out next to me and the toy was on the bed and I really didn’t recall much after the orgasm.  It was all very fuzzy.  I attempted to sit up and survey the damage to the bed because I was certain we were going to need a new comforter at best, and probably new sheets underneath the comforter at worst, and Jesus Christ was I sore.  I mean, not like I cannot sit on my ass at all sore, but… it was definitely present, and more sore than I’d ever been normally during sex.  And it was odd because it almost still felt like he was still there, like the sensation hadn’t totally gone away.  At the same time, I now felt incredibly empty after being so full of him.  
I groaned when I finally made it to a sitting position, probably louder than I intended, and Rob stirred beside me.
“Kris?” he said sleepily, his hand flailing to find me.  
I caught his hand and kissed his knuckles.  He ran his other hand over his face, “Hey.”
“Hi,” I smirked.  
“I… are you ok?”
I nodded, “Yeah, I’m ok.  You?”
“Yeah.”  He looked up at the ceiling for a minute and then looked back at me, “What the hell happened?”
I chuckled, “I was kind of wondering that myself.  I think we passed out.  You must have managed to roll off me and that’s kind of where we stayed.”
“Mmm.”  He sat up, groaning.  He stretched his neck, “Shit.”  He looked down at the bed, “Wow.”
I snorted, “Yeah, we really have to work on that whole towel thing.  Like, I think it was a really good idea.  And it’d sure cut down on the amount of sheets and comforters we buy and wash.”
He nodded, “I told you it was a good idea.  I should just smoke more weed and I could solve all of the world’s problems.”
“Uh huh,” I said, scooting to the end of the bed and wincing as I got off of it.  
He sat up and grabbed my hand, pulling me back to stand in front of him, my smaller frame between his legs.  “You sore?”
I nodded.
“Is it bad?”
“No, just there.  I’ll be fine.”
“Mmm,” he ran his hand over my shoulder and down my arm.  “You want me to look and make sure?”
I shook my head, “No, I think I’d know if I wasn’t fine.”
He nodded and pulled me closer against his chest.  I leaned into him, my hands running over his hair and down his back.  He grabbed my thighs, urging me to sit in his lap and I was happy to oblige, letting him hold me.  I locked my legs around his waist and inhaled him, my face in his neck, and then let the breath out.  Honestly, I was pretty tired.  He held me up, which was great, because my arms really didn’t feel like keeping a good hold.  I just wanted to be lazy and sleep all satisfied and sated and in his arms.  
His hands were moving over my back, soothing and so not helping the whole boneless thing.  He shifted me on his lap and moved a hand under my ass and stood up.  I was guessing he was going to lay us down, but he was walking somewhere.  I was sort of half-asleep anyway, so as long as this ended with me being on a bed somewhere, I was cool with that.  He could cart me around wherever the hell he wanted.  
It was bright where we were for a minute and then the brightness went away again.  Kitchen?  He sat down and juggled me for a minute and then water was running.  I could feel steam rising.  Bathroom.  A bath!  Fuck, he was awesome.  
He was silent while the tub filled, just caressing up and down my back, through my hair.  Seriously, I think I fell asleep for a few minutes.  Then he was moving me again.
“Kristen,” he said quietly, whispering it in my ear.
“Mmm…”
“I drew you a bath…”
“Mmmthanks.”
He chuckled, “I’m going to put you in the water now, ok?”
I sighed and nodded into his shoulder, feeling weightless as he turned me around and lowered me gently into the tub.  The water was hot, enveloping, and I hissed, not unpleasantly, just… it was hot.  
“Heat’ll help with the soreness,” he said.  “I’ll be back in a minute.  Just relax.”
“Ok,” I mumbled, half tucking into the side of the tub.  
He chuckled, “Don’t drown.”
Water was really awesomely relaxing, I decided.  And the heat was great and all, but I was sleepy and I had nothing to lean against.  See, there was supposed to be this chest behind me.  A chest with these really great arms, and big hands with long fingers, and stubble on his cheeks, and a jaw that should be illegal.  And a voice that was melodic and full of distinct cadence and drawn out words, and accented with a soul that he gave me willingly every day.  I missed him.  But I was too exhausted in the heat of the bathtub and the weightless water to call out.  So I waited, half-asleep and drowsy until he came back.  Having no concept of time at the moment, he probably wasn’t gone that long, but it seemed like a long time.  
I knew he was there before he said anything.  He sat on the edge of the tub and moved hair out of my face, and I knew he was smiling.  I felt a washcloth on my shoulder and that made me finally force my head up, force my eyes open.  “You’re supposed to be in here with me,” I said.
He chuckled, “Sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you,” all quiet-accent and cadence and gentleness.
He got in the water behind me then, pulling me back against his chest, and now this was more like it.  This was how it was supposed to be.  His hands on my stomach, running down my arms, gently running over my breasts, pressing kisses into my shoulder and neck, his body enveloping me just like the water, all safe and warm and safe… and warm.  
I had no idea how long we spent in the bathtub.  I don’t remember him letting the water out, but I remember being wrapped in towels and carried to the bedroom.  
The bedroom.  I had a fleeting thought about the really messy comforter and sheets and how I should change those, but I just didn’t have the energy.  The bed was turned down, though, and when he set me on it, the sheets smelled clean, they felt newly changed.  Oh, add that to his repertoire of awesomeness, he changed the sheets!  I felt the bed move and then he was back with me, sliding behind me and aligning our bodies like spoons.  Pretty sure I was the little one.  I felt him sigh and tighten his grip on me.  
“You’re amazing, you know that, right?” he whispered.  “Completely amazing… and I love you.”
I wanted to respond.  Really, I did.  I wanted to tell him how much that was true for me, too – that I loved him and I thought he was amazing, but I was being pulled under faster than I wanted and all I wound up doing was wiggling back into him more and sighing contently.  I think he got the drift anyway, if the responding kiss to the back of my neck was any indication.  






DON'T READ THIS PART UNTIL YOU'VE READ THE CHAPTER:
Highlight over to read:  So, right... anal.  I did not set out to write an anal chapter exactly, it sort of just happened, and actually serves a rather large plot point in two chapters.  So know that I did not gratuitously write hobo!buttsecks for the sheer guilty pleasure of it (well, not entirely, anyway).  I, personally, do not consider anal to be a taboo act anymore, not within the confines of a safe and healthy relationship.  And please keep in mind these are two young, curious people, and yeah.  That is about all.  /End justification for anal. 


Thanks to the usuals - you know who you are.  I luff you guyz.


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