I wrote someone sleeping, so clearly there will be sex. I woke up and had this in my head. Just a little something, 840 word count. No beta.
I get home and it's quiet, Brian's still at work. I knew he would be. He doesn't know I'm here and I don't normally fly in, unannounced, in the middle of the week. But I just wanted to be home. And now that I'm in, the exhaustion that has been building the last few weeks overwhelms me, and my thoughts are pretty much limited to: Nap. Bed. Now.
I consider a couch, it's much closer, but the thought of stretching out on a giant spacious bed, and the cool feel of high thread count sheets that smell like Brian on a pillow bunched under my head sounds just too fucking good to pass up.
I don't even bother taking off my clothes or getting under the covers. I flop down, grab a pillow from his side of the bed and crash.
It seems like just a few minutes later when I feel a hand running over the back of my thigh, fingers stroking between my legs, and it takes me a few moments to realize I'm not still sleeping. I guess he realizes that I'm awake too, because his hand wraps around the inside of my thigh and he pulls it just enough to tell me what he wants. I oblige spreading my legs wider and groan when I'm rewarded with the feel of his fingers moving between them. He teases me through the fabric of my pants, massaging my balls, stroking the spot behind them. Unconsciously I start rubbing against the mattress below me, enjoying the friction of my pants against my dick, the fabric pulled tight by the weight of my body pressing into the bed. My arms are wrapped around a pillow and my hands grip it as I picture the scene in my head and moan, finally turning my head sideways to look at Brian.
I expect him to be smirking at me, as a I hump the bed like a slut, but instead his lips are slightly parted, his breathing shallow and his eyes are dark when they meet mine. I groan his name and start to roll to face him, but his hand returns to the back of my thigh and presses down as he whispers, "Stay." I watch him for a moment, trying to figure out what the hell he wants when I feel his hand slide under the waist of my pants, his fingers ghosting along my crack and he moves his hand back between my legs, this time without a cloth barrier between us. The tip of one finger presses between my cheeks and circles the outside of my hole and I turn my face back into the pillow, moaning, and involuntarily rocking against the bedding now somewhat bunched beneath me, seeking contact where i can get it.
When he leans close, his breath hot against the side of my face and tells me he wants me to come, "just like this" as he pushes one finger inside of me, I moan loudly and feel myself blush. I should be protesting - he is going to make me come in my fucking pants like a teenager. But his finger is pushing deeper inside with each thrust, and the others are still stroking me from the outside. And I can feel him, hard against my thigh, and warm against my ear, telling me he wants me to come, and I do grinding myself against the mattress beneath me.
My pants are off and I hear the rip of a condom wrapper behind me before I think I've even finished coming. He tugs on my hips, pulling me slightly up onto my knees and then he's inside me. And it's so fucking good. And it's hard and fast and deep and nothing like it was minutes before. I move up onto my hands, rocking back against him as he pushes into me. He strokes me in time with his thrusts while his other hand grips my hip. His grip tightens, fingers digging into my flesh, bruising it as he freezes against me, coming inside of me, as I come in his hand.
I collapse back into the bed before he's pulled out and he collapses on top of me. As he reaches between us to pull out I can feel him grinning against my back. When he rolls off of me, I flip over onto my back and can't help the smile and the laugh that escape me. He's on his side staring at me, eyebrow raised, and waiting.
I ignore his question and ask one of my own. "What are you doing home so early?"
"I thought I might get lucky and find a hot slutty blond waiting in my bed for me. What's your excuse?"
"I was really tired and you have nicer sheets than I do."
He doesn't ask anything else, just reaches over and briefly runs his hand through my hair. There will be more questions later, for now I guess he is just content to consider himself lucky.