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Astrid had become a woman in John’s arms… It seems to be such an antiquated expression but it summed up how she felt fairly well. It wasn’t that being a senior in high school hadn’t given her the crazy impression that she was on top of the world, owning her destiny, on the verge of the fabulous life she was destined to live but getting shot at, having a taste of the crazy existence her new friends were forced to live, having to find the courage to step foot outside of her safe and welcoming home had put a small damper on her indomitable spirit and it was a bit more work to find and embrace wholeheartedly that frame of mind again.
John had changed all of that. She was supposed to be the one bringing him joy and happiness, and somehow he turned it all upside down and made her rediscover the delights and thrills of a young adult experience.
Making love to him had been a transformative experience. She couldn’t remember all the details, except that it was blissful. Astrid was impatient to give it a second go, to have a chance to take her time and to catalog all the niceties that combined into creating that perfect moment. She wanted to commit it all to memory; the way her hormones, wants and fears didn’t allow on their first time together.
Making John laugh was good. Pushing him to give her his coy little smile was a rare pleasure she would treasure late into the night; having him map her body until he uncovers the path to her soul is what is absolutely necessary for Astrid to fully subsist. And that explains why she had found her way back to their subterranean home, looking for him, not knowing how to call him and express that smoldering desire without feeling silly or crazy.
*** *** *** *** ***
John was fucking tired of feeling like a punching ball at the end of a tough workout. He knew he was good at hand to hand combat. Nevertheless, thanks to Russell antics, it felt like every time they had a bout with Ultra lately, it was never a fair fight but always too few of his against an army of them…
He felt like he was entitled to bitch… His split lip, his body covered in bruises, his mind scattered to the winds thinking of better ways to protect his family, he was completely blindsided when he turned a corner to bump into the one person who could make him forget it all.
Astrid looked radiant, her smile blinding, her curls dancing around her open face, still bouncing from the small collision. He grabbed her by the waist to keep her upright bringing her flush to him and in one smooth motion going to replenish himself with a deep kiss.
It lasted for a minute, forever, enough to assure them it was real but too short to be satisfying. In the blink of an eye he had teleported them to her bedroom, two feet from the fluffy comfort of her bed, in the dimness provided by the closed blinds. And, now, in the privacy of their world, he decided to take his time, to see how difficult it would be to push their limits, hoping to enjoy the time they were carving for themselves.
“Why did you come, Astrid?” he whispered, worrying the lobe of her ear.
She laughed... “You can’t read my mind john?” She ground against his muscled thigh and added, “I was horny and I didn’t know what to do about it, I had hopes you could help.” She finished with a wet slide of her tongue on his stubble cheek and he had shivers all over his body.
He liked how bold she was, unafraid and so willing, he got hard from it. But there was the matter of some self discipline he needed to address, so he fixed himself to get some breathing room and sat on the bed pulling her on his lap.
She sat comfortably, hooking her arms around his neck and nuzzling contently. “Astrid, you can’t go in and out of our lair without precautions… You could bring Ultra brigades hot on your heels. If you make this mistake again, you’ll find yourself in trouble, getting a serious paddling. Are we clear?” He uttered the threat while returning her ministrations.
She did not feel like pushing the limit and see how much of a bark there was to that threat but she clearly remembers what she wanted, and that was mind-numbling sex with the blond dream boy seating on her bed. So she smiled and promised to be good, his good little girl… And she let her hand roam down his t-shirt, mapping his pectorals, lifting the rumpled garment to tickle his treasure trail, insert a finger under his fly, wiggle her hand to finally reach the holy grail.
It wasn’t satisfying; at all. She couldn’t explore him and feel him grow. She was impatient to stroke him and be overwhelmed as the head of his member will become too sensitive, overflowing from the grip of her unskillful but eager fingers. Astrid wanted, no, needed, to experience its girth and its warmth and its pulsating release until her hand gets covered in the foreign feel of his cum, until her tongue can dart anxious to discover its taste and know in her soul John in a completely different way.
She moaned, their kiss taking the air of her starving lungs and already aware that this time together may end up as blurry as the first time, simply because she couldn’t think and string two thoughts together, how was she supposed to keep her wits and analyze? Well the saying must be right... Practice does make everyone better and she is all but a willing pupil!
The End.