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“Fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, Tech. Tech. Mmmmph. Fuck.”
He’s sitting up on the bed, holding you against him, your legs wrapped around his waist, him buried inside you. There’s something unbelievably intimate about this, the way his hand holds your hip, the way you can move together, the way you’re pressed into him, chest to chest, but you both have control.
Or you both did, because he’s focused on you now. He brings your face to his, cupping your jaw to capture your lips.
“This…is an excellent position.” You are delighted to hear that he’s a little breathless.
“Oh, fuck, yes,” you agree. Your eyes close and your head tips back as he rolls his hips, and your body shudders in ecstasy. “This is too good,” you moan. “I don’t…I don’t want this to stop…Gods, this feels…oh, this feels so good.” His fingers are in your hair, pulling your head back further so he can lean forward and attack your neck. You shiver. “Oh gods, Tech.” You curl into him, taking his face in both hands, kissing him. You moan. “How…how are you so good at this?....mmmmppphhhh,” you gasp.
He feels perfect inside you. Every thrust, every movement feels designed to bring you the maximum amount of pleasure. And when you move together, with his arm around you, it is somehow better than the climax you know is coming.
“Tech,” you whisper. “No one…no one has ever…ever made me feel like this. Oh, gods!” Another spike of pleasure crashes through you.
“Watching you…like this…is…intoxicating.” He traces your face, admiring the way a fine sheen of moisture has built up on your skin, giving you a glow that makes you somehow even more alluring. “If I could, I would keep you like this…all day.”
You laugh and cover his mouth with your own. “I’d never survive. But…I guess…I would die…happy.” He shifts you away from him so that he can lean forward and rake his teeth against your nipple. “Oh, fuck, oh, fuck,” you groan, as he moves to the other side. “You’re…you’re going to make me come.”
“That is the purpose of this activity.”
And as wonderful as the sensations of your orgasm are, as amazing as everything feels as your body is consumed with ecstasy, your prediction is correct, that it was perfect and pleasurable…and fleeting, nothing you could hold onto and savor, not like the feeling of Tech’s body wrapped around yours.
He keeps moving until your climax melts away, as you whimper and shake from it, and then it’s just him and your need for him.
“Are you going to come for me, Tech?” you whisper, collecting just enough focus to tighten around him, and he groans.
“When you do that…mmph…I find…,” he thrusts into you as you keep your muscles constricted, “...it difficult to control myself.”
“Let go,” you moan into his ear. “Let me make you come. Let this be mine, Tech. I want to feel you hot inside me.”
You move with him, your chests pressed together, your lips on his. “Mine,” you groan, your teeth grazing his shoulder. He thrusts into you and you pulse around him; he cries out as you feel his cum deep in you. He gasps into your neck. You keep moving. “You give me every drop, Tech.”
“I believe…I believe I have.”
You laugh. His voice is already sounding collected. You can barely stand it.
He holds you for a few moments before you carefully lift yourself off him, his cock slipping out of you, cum spilling over it. You lie on a pillow as he cleans you both, and then you are nestled in his arms.
“I like the way you touch me,” you murmur.
“It would be strange if you did not.”
Tech likes to touch you, enjoys exploring you and what he can do to you, what he can make your body do. When you lie next to him, sometimes he thinks it strange that, not so long ago, touch was not a thing he put value in, that there was a time when your body next to his was simply something he tolerated, that your need for his skin against your own was a concession he made to keep you comfortable. Now he will even sometimes remove his shirt around the others, just so that he can keep you against him. It is selfish, he knows, that he wants you with him when he already occupies so much of your time, that they receive only a fraction of your affection, and they are happy for it.
His hand caresses down your back and along your side, light strokes over your belly, fingertips ghosting over your breasts. He hears your breath catch. He moves so that he can kiss your cheek, and down your neck, along your shoulder, over your chest. Your hand rests gently on his head, as he continues his exploration. He knows you, has you memorized, every mole and every dimple, every dip and every curve. He knows your body as well as he has known anything, and he is still finding ways to pleasure you and him.
“Tech.” He hears the breathlessness in your voice. “You can’t possibly…you can’t be ready already.” Even with this soft protest, he knows that you are aroused, that when he slides his fingers between your legs, he will feel your excitement mixed with his cum, that when he moves up to kiss you, as he is doing now, that you will moan into his mouth and spread your legs when you feel his hot erection.
And you do. And he does not find it boring or uninteresting that he knows, can predict how you and your body will react. He finds it exciting that you will keep giving him this pleasure, that you are willing to fulfill his desire, that he can touch you and hear those noises you make that excite and fascinate him.
Once, he thought only of keeping you content so that you would stay with them, and now that he knows you will not leave, all he wants is to give you satisfaction. He knows you want the same. That is why you submit to him, when he needs you to, that you are willing to allow him to practice his desires on your flesh.
He groans as he slides into you again, being careful, even when you tell him it doesn’t hurt and, even if it did, you wouldn’t care. You wrap your legs around him, and he luxuriates in being enclosed by you, as if, in this act, you are both able to envelop the other in your essences. Tech used to think of touch only as negative or neutral, and he realizes how wrong he was, how magnificent and all-encompassing it is, how he has had to use words he has never uttered before to describe the pleasures he has felt in the past months. You move together, slowly, gently, kissing, savoring. He knows he would be happy, he would be sated, even if he did not climax again, if he could just stay like this with you.
You cry out as he angles himself to stimulate that sweet spot inside you. He watches your eyes close, your chin lift, exposing your neck. He listens to you moan his name. It is like a different language when you are like this.
“How do you do this to me?” The words echo in both of your minds.
Your hand reaches out for his face, your fingertips grazing his cheek. “Your eyes are so beautiful.” Your back arches as he gives you another orgasm, as he takes his pleasure from watching your own.
His climax ripples through him, enhanced by your touch on his body. After, you sleep on him, and he has long since stopped minding the discomfort of his arm under you. It is minor, an inconvenience. Tech is basking, he thinks, an animal on a rock drinking up the sun.
But instead, he is here, savoring your touch, the sound of your breaths, enveloped in the whole of you. And he thinks—he knows there will never be too much.
He could never have enough.