Heavy pants and moans fill the air around you in a lustful symphony of sexual excitement, the only other noises being the squeaking bed underneath you and the sound of skin meeting skin, lips meeting lips, hands roaming, touching, caressing, and squeezing any place they can reach. You've done this so many times before; tonight should feel no different. Yet somehow every instance feels more passionate than the last, every touch kindling a renewed flame of hot pleasure and love, and every kiss your first. You ceaselessly attempt to count the number of times who enters who, but the math is lost when your lips meet his, and it's pretty difficult to keep up when every night is spent with countless hours of touching, kissing, and multiple rounds of sex before the sun rises.
He is currently sitting in your lap, legs on both sides of you as you hold him to your chest, his body moving furiously as he rides you, desperately trying to reach his release. His dripping cock is smashed between your abdomens and he is clutching your head to his body, hands wound tightly in your hair. He tugs a little, and it hurts. But you don't mind in the slightest because tonight is only the two of you, together under one equal sky, wonderfully connected in the best yet worst of ways, hardly a cent of space to separate your bodies, hearts, minds, and souls.
You truly feel connected to Jake like this; your bodies work on autopilot, reading each other to make flawless love in perfect synchronization. Everything about yourselves work to make the perfect love, your hearts race as one car on the same speedway, your minds can determine what the other is thinking without even the bat of a blonde or black eyelash, your hands and mouths work alongside to create the perfect equilibrium of love-making at its finest. And like everything else you put your mind and heart into, it goes off without a hitch and is perfect in every sense of the word.
You return your focus back to the tight heat repeatedly enveloping every corner of your manhood. Jake is spewing obscenities and shattered, weak moans tore from his chest as he bounces on your cock, desperately searching for his sweet release.
"Damn, D-Dirk... A-Ah, shitknickers on a toasted biscuit," he softly cries. It amuses you to no end, no matter the position you were in, the ridiculous things Jake said for curse words. Phrases like "Gadzooks!" or "Slap me silly and call me Sally," always bemuse you to hear your goofy lover say. You find it cute, and endearing in a Jake sort of way. He may sound like a bumbling idiot during sex, but all your brain can think about the nonsensical ramblings when they slip is fuck that's a hot accent.
You slam your hips up abruptly into him when he drops down, and he yells more idiot-speak as he is caught off-guard. "There, please...! Dirk, please, fuck me for Pete's sake!" That snaps you out of your English-induced thoughts. You always were a sucker for begging and dirty talk.
Tipping over and untangling your legs, you push his knees by his head to spread those milky thighs apart as you continue to drill into him, making his voice crack and cry out as you press all the right spots. You let out a few grunts now that you're doing most of the hard work, and Jake is a banshee compared to the amount of noise you produce. He's screaming your name loudly, and in that accent you love so much. You pick up your initial speed and do exactly as he demands; screw him into the sheets so hard, you see pops of white light in your vision.
"Dirk, I-I'm about to...! Dirk!" You open your clenched lids at the last shrill cry of your name to see Jake explode like the finale of a firework show on the 4th of July, seemingly endless ropes of cum coating his abdomen. A few splashes land on the bed, and you know you'll do the laundry just because you love him enough to not make him do it, but you really could care less at this moment in time because he's still pushing back onto your hard-on, encouraging you to finish inside of him, Dirk, please hurry, I need you.
You're so close to coming yourself, and Jake is ever the one to live up to his hard-earned reputation as a "goddamned fine gentleman" by allowing you to continue your ass-plundering with your eyes squeezed shut once more, even when he's still overly sensitive from his own blissful peak mere seconds ago. Your hips are shallowly thrusting in and out of him at an erratic pace and you're shamelessly moaning incoherencies at the amazing feeling of his body working around you.
He's hooking his legs around your lower back and pulling you inside of him to the hilt, his arms are settling around your neck loosely to tug you ever-so-slightly closer, and his lips are mumbling soft praises you can barely decipher in your lustful haze of impending orgasm. Your hips have slowed to just rolling and gently rocking in him, cherishing his warmth and soft presence.
When you open your eyes a final time to meet his soft, adoring gaze and tender yet firm squeeze around your erection, your shit is completely wrecked.
You come with locked gazes, yours holding the fog of climax and his bearing raw adoration and love. And when his name tumbles from your chapped lips in a strained murmur, he brings a hand up to your face and pulls you down very carefully for a slow, tender embrace.
Your eyes never leave his, even when you finish inside him and gently kiss. He pulls away after a moment, a silly grin spread over his face. "Have I grown a third eye or something , dear? Your peepers seem to have suddenly grown quite fond of my mug," he says with a light laugh.
You're wrenched back into reality at his words, for you were still feeling the effects of the tremendous sex you just had. "Merely admiring America's next top model," you murmur while slipping out of him. He cringes at the uncomfortable feeling and the squelching noises when you exit his body, and you suggest a shower before bed.
"I rather like the idea of you pampering me with a bubble bath since my tush is going to hurt like the dickens for the next few days. But you've always been a pain in my arse, haven't you?" he snickers. You just smile and pull him in for a sweet kiss, lovingly rubbing your palms across his shoulder blades.
You know your back will appear to have been mauled by a kitten, and Jake will struggle to sit for at least a few more with that in mind, when you stand to run his bath like the devoted lover you are and always will be to Jake, you really don't mind in the slightest.