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Arnold's hands paused, his cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of red. Then he chuckled, the sound rumbling from his chest, pure and contagious. I joined in, our laughter mingling, silly and warm.
"Guess that makes you the naughty patron," he shot back, playfulness dancing in his eyes.
"Put your penis in me now." I pushed myself upwards as he came down, entering my gash in a slow movement.
"I... I don't want to hurt you."
The sincerity is what made me swallow my giggle. "You won't. I'm wet, we are okay."
He pushed in with a grunt, stilling before I bucked my hips up, encouraging him to move. And move he did, his head knocking into my chin as he eagerly thrust about like a fish out of water.
"Oh, oh God. I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" His eyes were wide as he looked at me.
Yes... and no. I'd bitten my tongue, but in all honesty, I was so horny now, I didn't wanna stop, so I just nodded and swallowed the blood. I motioned for him to continue.
Then it got really wild. "You like that? Do you like it when I ram this pussy? You want me to rearrange your guts?"
I fought back a laugh, "Arnie, I don't need you to be someone you're not. Just... be you. I'm enjoying myself, my sexy hot rod."
He smiled and blushed before the lines between his forehead grew tight. He was about to cum. With a mumbled apology, he pulled out of my warm, slimy hole and painted my skin with his milky offering. I was slightly disappointed he wasn't plugging me with that pop can of his, but I understood.
We collapsed into each other, the tension dissolving into shared amusement. We found comfort in the absurdity of it all.
"Wow, we are really bad at this," I said between chuckles, still feeling his arms around me.
"Speak for yourself," Arnold teased, but there was no bite to it. "Sorry... for all the... stuff."
"My favorite was your thrusting. It was... intense."
The laughter faded, and we lay there, tangled limbs, breathing in unison. His fingers traced circles on my back, light and hesitating. I closed my eyes, letting the sensation wash over me.
"I'm scared," he whispered so softly I almost didn't catch it.
"Me too." My voice sounded small, even to my own ears.
"Scared, I'll mess this up," he continued. "Scared, I won’t be what you need."
"Arnold, look at me." I propped myself up on one elbow, meeting his gaze. "You see me, all of me, not just Angel on the phone. That's more than enough."
He nodded and pulled me close. "And you, seeing me—clumsy, inexperienced—it means everything."
"Let's be scared together then," I suggested, resting my head on his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart.
"Deal." His breath tickled my hair as he spoke.
In the silence of the room, with the soft hum of the city outside, we lay entwined. The warmth of his skin against mine was a balm, soothing away the fears. In his embrace, I found a strange kind of peace, an acceptance of our imperfect perfection.
I snuggled closer to Arnold, the warmth of his body a solid comfort against the chill creeping through the open window. "You're like a human blanket," I teased, my fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest.
"Only for you, Angelcakes." His voice rumbled with amusement, the cringe-worthy nickname somehow endearing coming from him.
"Angelcakes?" I arched an eyebrow, a laugh bubbling up. "Really stretching the creativity there, Arnie."
He shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Best I could do on short notice."
"Guess I can let it slide." My hand settled over his heart, feeling its steady beat. "Just this once."
"Generous." He leaned in, his lips brushing my forehead, lingering longer than necessary.
