fic: But the little girls understand (Push; Nick/Cassie; adult)
But the little girls understand
Push; Nick/Cassie; adult; content notes: underage (Cassie's 17), pegging; 3,045 words
Turnabout's fair play.
Thanks to
devildoll for looking it over. This is what happens when you get earwormed with "Back Door Man."
~*~
But the little girls understand
Cassie knows what it looks like--she's young and pretty and alone, and Nick is older and kind of sketchy, and surely her mother didn't mean sex when she'd told Cassie that Nick would take care of her. But Nick's never pushed her into any kind of sex thing, even after she'd done her best to seduce him. If he'd had his way, they'd still be sleeping in separate beds and pining stoically for each other until she was eighteen and legal in all fifty states. But once she pointed out that she was already legal in most of Europe and they'd only spent a total of four weeks in the US in the past two years, and anyway, she'd already seen it happening, he got on board pretty quickly, even though she was still two months shy of seventeen at the time.
With the lives they lead, Cassie's seen a lot, and she isn't going to be freaked out by something as awesome as sex, not once she finally convinces him she's old enough to have it and he's not too old to give it to her.
They're still in the honeymoon phase, can't keep their hands off each other, so she's mostly naked in his lap, arching up into his mouth as he licks her boobs, when his hand slides down over her ass and squeezes. She squirms against him and says, "You can do me up the butt if you want."
"Cassie." Nick pulls back, scandalized. It's kind of hilarious, considering he just had his mouth on her tits and his hand on her ass.
"Nick," she answers in the same ridiculously shocked tone. Mocking him is one of her favorite pastimes. She shifts in his lap; he definitely feels interested, but even though she acts like it's no big deal, she's still not sure about this stuff and generally takes her cues from him. "If you want, I mean. We don't have to."
"Jesus," he says. "I'm the one who should be saying that to you."
She pats his hair gently. "It's okay. I know how freaked out you get about debauching a minor."
He groans and drops his head onto her shoulder. "It's not that I don't want to. I just thought maybe we could wait."
"For what?" She rests her cheek against his head and breathes in the familiar scent of sweat and hair gel. "Is there a special butt-sex anniversary? Like, not until we've been together for nine months or something? Or do you have to be super extra legal to do anal?"
"Oh my god." His voice is muffled by her shoulder but she can feel the words as well as hear them. "I swear, you're gonna be the death of me."
"I really hope not." She hates when he says shit like that.
He looks up, wearing his I know I'm adorable, so you'll forgive me face. "Right. Sorry." He kisses her. "We can if you want to. I mean, I want to, but I don't want to make you feel like you have to."
"No pressure or anything," she says, laughing and kissing him again. "Let's do this."
Which is how she ends up on her belly with her ass in the air and Nick's slick fingers pushing inside her. It's different. It's weird. He talks her through the whole thing, his voice low and hoarse as he fucks into her slowly, his breath hot and ragged against the back of her neck. She likes that he likes it, but it seems like an awful lot of work for not that much reward. It's better when he slides his other hand over her hip and down between her legs, two fingers slipping into her pussy and his thumb circling her clit until she's breathing as hard as he is, achingly full and desperate to come.
Her orgasm surprises her, her whole body going stiff, clenching down around him while pleasure pours through her in waves. She can feel him shaking against her, his hips jerking as he comes too, moaning her name.
They collapse onto the bed and he pulls out slowly and gets rid of the condom while she lies there, feeling sore but in a way that makes her smile at the memory.
He crawls onto the bed and curls up around her. "So?"
"That was intense."
He kisses her cheek, her temple, the back of her neck. "In a good way?"
"Yeah," she says. "I think so." She snuggles back against him and pulls his arm around her waist. "We can do it again sometime if you want."
They do, though not as often as she'd expected, given the big deal the internet makes out of it.
"Real life is not like porn," he tells her, laughing and pushing the laptop closed so he can drag her into his lap.
"Thank god," she says, tipping her face up for a kiss, "because I'm not getting a boob job to fulfill your weird fantasies."
He clutches her a little tighter and spends a lot of time that afternoon telling her how much he likes her just the way she is, his hands cupped around her small (but perky) tits like they were made for them. She pretends to be grossed out by his sentimentality because otherwise, she might cry, and the last thing she wants to do is cry during sex and make him feel bad.
Still, Cassie likes to know stuff--it's part of being a watcher, and she likes reinforcing the mystique that she knows a lot more than she's letting on, even when (maybe especially when) it comes to stuff like sex--so she keeps watching awful professional porn and awkward amateur porn on the internet, and she reads terrible ladies magazines that advise her to buy a whole new wardrobe every six months and not to wear frosted lipstick if she's over twenty-two, and also how to give good head. She couldn't afford to follow the wardrobe advice even if she wanted to and she's practically married to Clinique's guava stain lipstick, but she's still learning how to do the whole sex thing, and it sounds like it could be useful, especially since she's still not that great at blowjobs. Nick seems happy enough, but she wants to make it as good for him as he makes it for her.
She's got Nick shoved up against the dresser and she's on her knees, trying not to think about the gross motel carpeting while she licks and sucks at the head of his cock. She's got one hand wrapped around the base and the next time she pulls off to breathe, she sticks her fingers in her mouth and slicks them up. She takes a deep breath and goes down again, distracting him while she slides her hand behind his balls and back to press her fingers against his hole. He yelps and thrusts forward, choking her. His fingers are tangled in her hair and it hurts when he yanks them out as she leans back.
"Cassie, what the hell?"
Her face gets hot from embarrassment and she hates that her eyes are tearing. She feels like a stupid, inexperienced teenager. "I thought you'd like it."
"You've been reading trashy magazines again." He sinks down to his knees and ducks his head so she has to meet his gaze.
"I just thought--I wanted to make you feel good."
He cups her cheek, rubs his thumb over her swollen lower lip, which tingles at the touch. "You already do."
"Then you don't want me to--"
He laughs softly, his mouth curving into a half-grin. "I didn't say that. Just, you know, warn a guy next time." He puts his hands on her shoulders and kisses her. "Come on," he says, swinging her up into his arms, "let's get in bed. This carpet is gross."
During the sex that follows, she forgets about feeling awkward and wrong, and for all that he can be a jerk sometimes, he never is about this. Which just makes her want to be better at it.
They talk about it a lot, not just in the dirty-talking This is what I want to do to you way, though Nick is excellent at that once he gets going, but in the Are you sure about this, Cassie? kind of way, which is something she wouldn't have expected him to be good at, but he is. It's also one of the things she loves best about him.
It takes her a little while to realize that those conversations are always about what she likes and what she feels comfortable with, and never about what he wants. She checks out his browser history, but aside from finding a truly disturbing number of wacky cat videos, most of it is stuff they've watched together.
Once they've talked about it, she tries again with the fingers during a blowjob, but it doesn't work the way she'd hoped--it's just one more thing to keep track of, and since he seems happy without it, she gives it up for the moment. There'll be time to try again later.
In Chicago, they meet one of Hook's contacts in a sex shop, and while Nick talks to the woman, Cassie browses. She's eyeing the dildos skeptically with he finds her.
"What," he says, "you're trading me in for an upgrade?"
"Not exactly," she says. "I was just thinking."
He folds his arms across his chest and leans back against the shelves. "Oh, this'll be good."
"Shut up." She gives him a withering look and rubs her fingers along the display model--ten inches of black silicone--and then, paying closer attention to his reaction, she picks up the harness. "What about something like this?"
His eyebrows quirk and he clears his throat before he says, "Well, that could be interesting," his voice dipping lower than normal.
Heat uncurls low in her belly at the sound, but she holds her voice steady. "Turnabout's fair play."
His grin is quick and dirty. "I suppose it is." He takes it from her, runs the leather between his fingers, and then puts it back, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Cassie swallows hard, her mouth suddenly dry. "We should get going if we want to get everything done before we have to leave." He's two steps away when he looks over his shoulder at her, mouth curving into that grin again, and says, "Maybe Meg will give you a friend-of-a-friend discount. Now I have to go see a guy about some explosives. I'll see you back at the apartment."
Cassie sucks in a surprised breath and closes her eyes, the vision just there behind her eyelids, the leather dark against her thighs and Nick spread out before her on the bed. And then she goes to the counter to talk to Meg, who does give her a discount, and even throws in free shipping, so Cassie doesn't have to use valuable space in her backpack, or explain to customs officials in Singapore why she's carrying sex toys into foreign countries when they search her luggage.
They land in New York for a while, a vacation between getting chased out of Malaysia by Division agents and heading to Munich on a lead about her mother. Nick meets up with some old friends from his grifting days, and Cassie goes to the post office box her mother set up for her years ago. She doesn't have things shipped there often, but it gives her an address in the US to use when they need one. She tosses the out of date magazines and catalogues and takes the plain brown box back to the hotel with her.
She locks the door and throws the bolt--if Nick gets back early, he can open it if he needs to, but it will give her a few extra seconds to put everything away if she needs to. It takes her a few minutes to figure out the harness, but she eventually gets it on. It's plain black and it looks weird on her pale thighs; she feels like a kid playing dress up. That impression changes when she gets the dildo--it's eight inches of purple silicone--hooked up. She still likes bright colors and the more realistic ones had kind of creeped her out. She studies herself in the mirror, getting used to how it looks. She strokes it experimentally, plays around with it until it feels right. Until it feels good.
She puts it away before Nick comes back, not quite ready to share yet. She's seen how it happens already, and they're not there. Not yet.
Two days later, he takes her to dinner and a movie, and it's the most normal thing they've ever done together. It's a nice night, so they walk back to the hotel, holding hands the entire time, and he tells her about living here when he was in his early twenties, running numbers for a local bookie and pulling scams on tourists. They very carefully don't talk about Kira. Maybe one day he'll open up about it. Maybe one day, Cassie will be able to hear it without feeling like she's second best.
She pushes all of that out of her mind when they get back to the room. He turns the television on and she goes right to the bathroom to prepare. She pulls on the new pink lace bra she bought for the occasion and wrinkles her nose at how it itches. Hopefully, she won't be wearing it for too long.
Her fingers shake a little as she buckles the harness, and she has to take a couple of deep breaths before she opens the door, but she's never backed down from anything, and she's not going to start now, not when her visions showed her how good it could be.
"Turn the TV off," she calls through the door. "There's something I want to show you."
"I was watching that," he says before he turns to look at her. His mouth opens and closes and then opens again. "Or we could do that."
She strokes the dildo suggestively. "I was hoping you'd say that." She feels a little silly on her walk to the bed, but the heat in his eyes helps drive that away.
He strips out of his clothes and lies back against the pillows. "How do you want to do this?"
She bites her lip. "I thought you could tell me."
He gives her a small, rueful smile. "This is a new one on me."
"Really?" She climbs onto the bed and pushes his knees apart.
"Really. I've never, uh--" He reaches out and wraps a hand around the strap-on, stroking it experimentally.
She sucks in a surprised breath. "Do you want to?"
"Yeah. With you. Yeah." He pulls her down into a hot, open-mouthed kiss, and they make out for a while, which is one of her favorite things, and makes her feel a little less nervous about everything. He slides his hand to the base and then strokes her. "Wow, you're really wet for this."
"I'm really wet for you." The grin he gives her is blinding and she needs to kiss it off his face. "Okay," she finally says, kissing her way down his body and enjoying the way he arches and squirms and says her name. She nips at the jut of his hipbone and licks the head of his cock before grabbing the lube from the night table and slicking up her fingers. "Tell me if I do something wrong."
"You're gonna be fine, Cassie." He puts a pillow underneath his hips and tilts himself up a little. She takes another deep breath and the slowly pushes a slick finger inside him. It's hot and tight and weirdly arousing. For her, at least. He's only half hard.
"Is this okay?"
"You're doing great," he says, drawing his knees up, slicking his own hand, and helping her out. "Come on," he says, voice low and rough and breathless, "let's do this."
She pushes into him slowly, keeping her eyes on his face and stopping when he grimaces. "You okay?"
"Gimme a second." He shifts his hips and gives her a nod, so she pushes in again. His eyes widen and he gasps. "Do that again." She eases back and then in, and this time, he pushes up to meet her, his eyes fluttering closed and his teeth sinking into his lower lip. "God, Cassie, yeah. Just like that."
She keeps her eyes open as she fucks him, rolling her hips slow and steady, finding a rhythm that rubs both of them the right way. She leans over him, holds onto his hip to keep her balance while she moves. She's finding it hard to breathe, heat and need rising under her skin as she watches him come apart beneath her, his hips bucking up to meet hers. Her voice sounds soft and ridiculous when she tells him how good he looks and how good he makes her feel, and how she wants to make him feel good too.
"Come on, Nick," she says, steady enough to wrap her hand around his dick and stroke while she thrusts. "I need you to come for me now." He twines his fingers with her and jerks himself, hard and desperate. It takes only two or three strokes before he comes, warm and wet over their joined hands. The way he shakes vibrates through her; she's so close, she can't keep her eyes open anymore as pleasure washes over her. She eases out and snakes a hand down between her legs to finish herself off and then collapses on top of him.
After a few minutes, Nick breaks the silence. "That was intense. In a good way." He sounds like he's about to fall asleep.
"Good," she says, unbuckling the harness and heading into the bathroom to clean up. She shucks the itchy bra, too, and pulls on one of Nick's t-shirts before she curls up beside him. "I liked it, too."
"Happy butt-sex anniversary," he says, running a hand through her hair.
Cassie laughs against his shoulder.
end
~*~
Notes: Title from "Back Door Man."
~*~
Feedback is adored.
~*~
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Push; Nick/Cassie; adult; content notes: underage (Cassie's 17), pegging; 3,045 words
Turnabout's fair play.
Thanks to
devildoll for looking it over. This is what happens when you get earwormed with "Back Door Man."
~*~
But the little girls understand
Cassie knows what it looks like--she's young and pretty and alone, and Nick is older and kind of sketchy, and surely her mother didn't mean sex when she'd told Cassie that Nick would take care of her. But Nick's never pushed her into any kind of sex thing, even after she'd done her best to seduce him. If he'd had his way, they'd still be sleeping in separate beds and pining stoically for each other until she was eighteen and legal in all fifty states. But once she pointed out that she was already legal in most of Europe and they'd only spent a total of four weeks in the US in the past two years, and anyway, she'd already seen it happening, he got on board pretty quickly, even though she was still two months shy of seventeen at the time.
With the lives they lead, Cassie's seen a lot, and she isn't going to be freaked out by something as awesome as sex, not once she finally convinces him she's old enough to have it and he's not too old to give it to her.
They're still in the honeymoon phase, can't keep their hands off each other, so she's mostly naked in his lap, arching up into his mouth as he licks her boobs, when his hand slides down over her ass and squeezes. She squirms against him and says, "You can do me up the butt if you want."
"Cassie." Nick pulls back, scandalized. It's kind of hilarious, considering he just had his mouth on her tits and his hand on her ass.
"Nick," she answers in the same ridiculously shocked tone. Mocking him is one of her favorite pastimes. She shifts in his lap; he definitely feels interested, but even though she acts like it's no big deal, she's still not sure about this stuff and generally takes her cues from him. "If you want, I mean. We don't have to."
"Jesus," he says. "I'm the one who should be saying that to you."
She pats his hair gently. "It's okay. I know how freaked out you get about debauching a minor."
He groans and drops his head onto her shoulder. "It's not that I don't want to. I just thought maybe we could wait."
"For what?" She rests her cheek against his head and breathes in the familiar scent of sweat and hair gel. "Is there a special butt-sex anniversary? Like, not until we've been together for nine months or something? Or do you have to be super extra legal to do anal?"
"Oh my god." His voice is muffled by her shoulder but she can feel the words as well as hear them. "I swear, you're gonna be the death of me."
"I really hope not." She hates when he says shit like that.
He looks up, wearing his I know I'm adorable, so you'll forgive me face. "Right. Sorry." He kisses her. "We can if you want to. I mean, I want to, but I don't want to make you feel like you have to."
"No pressure or anything," she says, laughing and kissing him again. "Let's do this."
Which is how she ends up on her belly with her ass in the air and Nick's slick fingers pushing inside her. It's different. It's weird. He talks her through the whole thing, his voice low and hoarse as he fucks into her slowly, his breath hot and ragged against the back of her neck. She likes that he likes it, but it seems like an awful lot of work for not that much reward. It's better when he slides his other hand over her hip and down between her legs, two fingers slipping into her pussy and his thumb circling her clit until she's breathing as hard as he is, achingly full and desperate to come.
Her orgasm surprises her, her whole body going stiff, clenching down around him while pleasure pours through her in waves. She can feel him shaking against her, his hips jerking as he comes too, moaning her name.
They collapse onto the bed and he pulls out slowly and gets rid of the condom while she lies there, feeling sore but in a way that makes her smile at the memory.
He crawls onto the bed and curls up around her. "So?"
"That was intense."
He kisses her cheek, her temple, the back of her neck. "In a good way?"
"Yeah," she says. "I think so." She snuggles back against him and pulls his arm around her waist. "We can do it again sometime if you want."
They do, though not as often as she'd expected, given the big deal the internet makes out of it.
"Real life is not like porn," he tells her, laughing and pushing the laptop closed so he can drag her into his lap.
"Thank god," she says, tipping her face up for a kiss, "because I'm not getting a boob job to fulfill your weird fantasies."
He clutches her a little tighter and spends a lot of time that afternoon telling her how much he likes her just the way she is, his hands cupped around her small (but perky) tits like they were made for them. She pretends to be grossed out by his sentimentality because otherwise, she might cry, and the last thing she wants to do is cry during sex and make him feel bad.
Still, Cassie likes to know stuff--it's part of being a watcher, and she likes reinforcing the mystique that she knows a lot more than she's letting on, even when (maybe especially when) it comes to stuff like sex--so she keeps watching awful professional porn and awkward amateur porn on the internet, and she reads terrible ladies magazines that advise her to buy a whole new wardrobe every six months and not to wear frosted lipstick if she's over twenty-two, and also how to give good head. She couldn't afford to follow the wardrobe advice even if she wanted to and she's practically married to Clinique's guava stain lipstick, but she's still learning how to do the whole sex thing, and it sounds like it could be useful, especially since she's still not that great at blowjobs. Nick seems happy enough, but she wants to make it as good for him as he makes it for her.
She's got Nick shoved up against the dresser and she's on her knees, trying not to think about the gross motel carpeting while she licks and sucks at the head of his cock. She's got one hand wrapped around the base and the next time she pulls off to breathe, she sticks her fingers in her mouth and slicks them up. She takes a deep breath and goes down again, distracting him while she slides her hand behind his balls and back to press her fingers against his hole. He yelps and thrusts forward, choking her. His fingers are tangled in her hair and it hurts when he yanks them out as she leans back.
"Cassie, what the hell?"
Her face gets hot from embarrassment and she hates that her eyes are tearing. She feels like a stupid, inexperienced teenager. "I thought you'd like it."
"You've been reading trashy magazines again." He sinks down to his knees and ducks his head so she has to meet his gaze.
"I just thought--I wanted to make you feel good."
He cups her cheek, rubs his thumb over her swollen lower lip, which tingles at the touch. "You already do."
"Then you don't want me to--"
He laughs softly, his mouth curving into a half-grin. "I didn't say that. Just, you know, warn a guy next time." He puts his hands on her shoulders and kisses her. "Come on," he says, swinging her up into his arms, "let's get in bed. This carpet is gross."
During the sex that follows, she forgets about feeling awkward and wrong, and for all that he can be a jerk sometimes, he never is about this. Which just makes her want to be better at it.
They talk about it a lot, not just in the dirty-talking This is what I want to do to you way, though Nick is excellent at that once he gets going, but in the Are you sure about this, Cassie? kind of way, which is something she wouldn't have expected him to be good at, but he is. It's also one of the things she loves best about him.
It takes her a little while to realize that those conversations are always about what she likes and what she feels comfortable with, and never about what he wants. She checks out his browser history, but aside from finding a truly disturbing number of wacky cat videos, most of it is stuff they've watched together.
Once they've talked about it, she tries again with the fingers during a blowjob, but it doesn't work the way she'd hoped--it's just one more thing to keep track of, and since he seems happy without it, she gives it up for the moment. There'll be time to try again later.
In Chicago, they meet one of Hook's contacts in a sex shop, and while Nick talks to the woman, Cassie browses. She's eyeing the dildos skeptically with he finds her.
"What," he says, "you're trading me in for an upgrade?"
"Not exactly," she says. "I was just thinking."
He folds his arms across his chest and leans back against the shelves. "Oh, this'll be good."
"Shut up." She gives him a withering look and rubs her fingers along the display model--ten inches of black silicone--and then, paying closer attention to his reaction, she picks up the harness. "What about something like this?"
His eyebrows quirk and he clears his throat before he says, "Well, that could be interesting," his voice dipping lower than normal.
Heat uncurls low in her belly at the sound, but she holds her voice steady. "Turnabout's fair play."
His grin is quick and dirty. "I suppose it is." He takes it from her, runs the leather between his fingers, and then puts it back, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Cassie swallows hard, her mouth suddenly dry. "We should get going if we want to get everything done before we have to leave." He's two steps away when he looks over his shoulder at her, mouth curving into that grin again, and says, "Maybe Meg will give you a friend-of-a-friend discount. Now I have to go see a guy about some explosives. I'll see you back at the apartment."
Cassie sucks in a surprised breath and closes her eyes, the vision just there behind her eyelids, the leather dark against her thighs and Nick spread out before her on the bed. And then she goes to the counter to talk to Meg, who does give her a discount, and even throws in free shipping, so Cassie doesn't have to use valuable space in her backpack, or explain to customs officials in Singapore why she's carrying sex toys into foreign countries when they search her luggage.
They land in New York for a while, a vacation between getting chased out of Malaysia by Division agents and heading to Munich on a lead about her mother. Nick meets up with some old friends from his grifting days, and Cassie goes to the post office box her mother set up for her years ago. She doesn't have things shipped there often, but it gives her an address in the US to use when they need one. She tosses the out of date magazines and catalogues and takes the plain brown box back to the hotel with her.
She locks the door and throws the bolt--if Nick gets back early, he can open it if he needs to, but it will give her a few extra seconds to put everything away if she needs to. It takes her a few minutes to figure out the harness, but she eventually gets it on. It's plain black and it looks weird on her pale thighs; she feels like a kid playing dress up. That impression changes when she gets the dildo--it's eight inches of purple silicone--hooked up. She still likes bright colors and the more realistic ones had kind of creeped her out. She studies herself in the mirror, getting used to how it looks. She strokes it experimentally, plays around with it until it feels right. Until it feels good.
She puts it away before Nick comes back, not quite ready to share yet. She's seen how it happens already, and they're not there. Not yet.
Two days later, he takes her to dinner and a movie, and it's the most normal thing they've ever done together. It's a nice night, so they walk back to the hotel, holding hands the entire time, and he tells her about living here when he was in his early twenties, running numbers for a local bookie and pulling scams on tourists. They very carefully don't talk about Kira. Maybe one day he'll open up about it. Maybe one day, Cassie will be able to hear it without feeling like she's second best.
She pushes all of that out of her mind when they get back to the room. He turns the television on and she goes right to the bathroom to prepare. She pulls on the new pink lace bra she bought for the occasion and wrinkles her nose at how it itches. Hopefully, she won't be wearing it for too long.
Her fingers shake a little as she buckles the harness, and she has to take a couple of deep breaths before she opens the door, but she's never backed down from anything, and she's not going to start now, not when her visions showed her how good it could be.
"Turn the TV off," she calls through the door. "There's something I want to show you."
"I was watching that," he says before he turns to look at her. His mouth opens and closes and then opens again. "Or we could do that."
She strokes the dildo suggestively. "I was hoping you'd say that." She feels a little silly on her walk to the bed, but the heat in his eyes helps drive that away.
He strips out of his clothes and lies back against the pillows. "How do you want to do this?"
She bites her lip. "I thought you could tell me."
He gives her a small, rueful smile. "This is a new one on me."
"Really?" She climbs onto the bed and pushes his knees apart.
"Really. I've never, uh--" He reaches out and wraps a hand around the strap-on, stroking it experimentally.
She sucks in a surprised breath. "Do you want to?"
"Yeah. With you. Yeah." He pulls her down into a hot, open-mouthed kiss, and they make out for a while, which is one of her favorite things, and makes her feel a little less nervous about everything. He slides his hand to the base and then strokes her. "Wow, you're really wet for this."
"I'm really wet for you." The grin he gives her is blinding and she needs to kiss it off his face. "Okay," she finally says, kissing her way down his body and enjoying the way he arches and squirms and says her name. She nips at the jut of his hipbone and licks the head of his cock before grabbing the lube from the night table and slicking up her fingers. "Tell me if I do something wrong."
"You're gonna be fine, Cassie." He puts a pillow underneath his hips and tilts himself up a little. She takes another deep breath and the slowly pushes a slick finger inside him. It's hot and tight and weirdly arousing. For her, at least. He's only half hard.
"Is this okay?"
"You're doing great," he says, drawing his knees up, slicking his own hand, and helping her out. "Come on," he says, voice low and rough and breathless, "let's do this."
She pushes into him slowly, keeping her eyes on his face and stopping when he grimaces. "You okay?"
"Gimme a second." He shifts his hips and gives her a nod, so she pushes in again. His eyes widen and he gasps. "Do that again." She eases back and then in, and this time, he pushes up to meet her, his eyes fluttering closed and his teeth sinking into his lower lip. "God, Cassie, yeah. Just like that."
She keeps her eyes open as she fucks him, rolling her hips slow and steady, finding a rhythm that rubs both of them the right way. She leans over him, holds onto his hip to keep her balance while she moves. She's finding it hard to breathe, heat and need rising under her skin as she watches him come apart beneath her, his hips bucking up to meet hers. Her voice sounds soft and ridiculous when she tells him how good he looks and how good he makes her feel, and how she wants to make him feel good too.
"Come on, Nick," she says, steady enough to wrap her hand around his dick and stroke while she thrusts. "I need you to come for me now." He twines his fingers with her and jerks himself, hard and desperate. It takes only two or three strokes before he comes, warm and wet over their joined hands. The way he shakes vibrates through her; she's so close, she can't keep her eyes open anymore as pleasure washes over her. She eases out and snakes a hand down between her legs to finish herself off and then collapses on top of him.
After a few minutes, Nick breaks the silence. "That was intense. In a good way." He sounds like he's about to fall asleep.
"Good," she says, unbuckling the harness and heading into the bathroom to clean up. She shucks the itchy bra, too, and pulls on one of Nick's t-shirts before she curls up beside him. "I liked it, too."
"Happy butt-sex anniversary," he says, running a hand through her hair.
Cassie laughs against his shoulder.
end
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Notes: Title from "Back Door Man."
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Feedback is adored.
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