|
|
Thirty Second Gundam Wing: In You by Kracken
People wonder why we do this. We don't have to. There are hundreds of ways to get off together without it that are very pleasurable. It certainly isn't about a 'feminine side' needing a good fuck. In fact, don't ever suggest such a thing to Duo Maxwell, or they'll never find all of your pieces. He's definitely far from feminine when I'm sunk deep and slamming in and out of him for all I'm worth. He's strong, and in control, grabbing my ass and urging me on with growls of utter abandon. That friction feels so good, he tells me, and that's it, complete and uncomplicated; it feels damned good to him and it makes his orgasm powerful. From my end of things, I never really found that kind of pleasure in it, so my role tends to be different. I'm prey to that instinct that urges a man to shoot his load as deep as he can into a willing body. It's imperative to me and very satisfying. It makes me feel possessive and very.... I doubt that I will ever tell Duo that it makes me feel like I own him, that I'm making sure he stays with me, though that's not true, of course. Fucking doesn't make a man love you, accept in the basest sense. Still, I never cease to feel like it's a triumph every time I ride him and 'claim' what's mine again. God, he's like a heated glove around me, strong legs wide and up, body arched in pleasure. His fingers have my ass and he's squeezing tight, possessing me in his own way. I always think of jungle cats when he's like this, all wild, sinewy strength. His hair is loose, tangled all around us, but maidens don't come to mind... Bacchus maybe... male sprites... at the very least. The sweat sheen, the smell of sex, the purple eyes half closed and glowing with desire...A man can feel very lucky to have someone like Duo beneath him. I know I do. I explode, shoving in deep and clutching at him. I feel heat splatter my belly between us and know that he was only holding back for me. He's like that, wanting always to share even in this. When I collapse over him, his arms go around me, his broad hand cradling my head as his other presses my back and keeps me close. He's mine, but I'm also his, his grip on me says, and I'm very content with that.
The End |
|
|