“Your mom’s out grocery shopping,” he says, voice rough. “We’ve got the place to ourselves.”
He locks the door behind him. I sit up on the bed, heart already pounding. He doesn’t waste time with small talk. He crosses the room, cups my face, and kisses me hard, tongue sliding past my lips like he’s been waiting years for this. I taste the faint bitterness of coffee and the heat of him as he pushes me back onto the mattress.
His hands are under my shirt in seconds, rough palms dragging over my chest, pinching my nipples until they’re tight and aching. He yanks the shirt off, then my shorts and underwear, leaving me bare while he stays fully dressed for a moment longer, just looking.
“Fuck, look at you,” he mutters. He spreads my thighs with both hands and drops to his knees between them. His mouth is on my cock immediately—hot, wet, taking me deep while two thick fingers push into my ass, working me open. I arch, biting my lip to keep quiet even though no one else is home. He doesn’t stop until I’m rock-hard, leaking, and shaking, then he stands, unbuckles his belt, and shoves his jeans down.
His cock is thick, heavy, already dripping at the tip. He climbs over me, knees bracketing my hips, and rubs the head against my stretched hole.
“You sure?” he asks, low, almost a growl.
I nod, wrapping my legs around his waist. He pushes in slow at first, stretching me open inch by inch until he’s buried to the hilt. The burn fades into a deep, full pressure that makes my toes curl. He stays still for a second, forehead pressed to mine, breathing hard.
Then he starts moving.
Long, deep strokes that drag against my prostate with every thrust. The bed creaks under the force of his hips. He fucks me harder once he feels me clench around him, one hand pinning my wrists above my head, the other gripping my hip hard enough to leave marks. Skin slaps against skin. His balls slap against my ass with every thrust.
“Take it,” he grunts. “Fucking take your uncle’s cock.”
I do. I rock up to meet him, moaning into his neck as he angles deeper, hitting that spot that makes my vision blur. He shifts, hooks one of my legs over his shoulder, and drives into me even harder. The wet sounds of him sliding in and out fill the room. Sweat slicks both of us.
He reaches between our bodies and strokes my cock in tight, matching rhythm. That’s all it takes. My orgasm hits hard—thighs locking around him, cock pulsing and shooting across my stomach as I come with a broken cry. He doesn’t stop. He keeps fucking me through it, chasing his own, until he finally buries himself deep and comes with a low, guttural sound, flooding my ass in thick pulses.
He stays inside me afterward, still half-hard, kissing my throat while both of us catch our breath. Outside, a car door eventually closes. Footsteps approach the house.
He pulls out slowly, watches his cum drip from me for a second, then helps me clean up just enough to look presentable. Before he leaves the room he leans down and murmurs against my ear:
“Next time we won’t have to rush.”
Then he’s gone, and I’m left on the bed, legs still shaky, the smell of sex thick in the air, already wanting him again. if you’d love to know about the second part you can hit me up on my Gmail hey2marieramos@gmail.com you’ll love it
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