Grey. Countless shades of grey.
The people of the world could only see black and white, not a drop of color starting from the moment they were born. Hues of grays and blacks filled all of their surroundings. Instead of a beautiful rainbow filled with lava red and sunshine yellow, it was just a giant arch in the sky consisting of different shades of gray. Instead of a colorful silk scarf embroidered with the most exotic of colors and dyes, it was a bland and gloomy piece of soft fabric.
At first that was how you saw everything too, until the day came when you were proclaimed to be the Receiver of Memory by the chief elder several months ago.
You longed for everyone else to see the colors that only you could see, you wanted to share it with someone, but they were stuck in a world of grey, for now, because that was just the order of things. You remembered the exact moment like it was yesterday when your best friend Asher's colors filled your vision.
There was a sort of flash behind your eyes when it happened. His eyes were the most gorgeous color of viridescent you could ever imagine, bright and shimmering with life, they weren't like any green you had seen in the forest, they were mixed with a soft blue. It was like the world around you had just filtered down into his eyes so much that you had to quickly glanced around to check that the world was still in color. You would stare into them forever if you could. His fiery red hair took you aback, you weren't sure what to expect when it came to those gorgeous locks but you couldn't have been happier with the way it looked.
You couldn't stop looking at him, watching the crimson color of his cheeks blossom as he blushed, the pink of his tongue when he licked his equally pink lips, and those freckles that dusted over his face so flawlessly. He was quick to notice that you were staring at him in a completely new way so he asked you if something was wrong, but you just acted as if it was nothing when it was actually everything.
It was what changed everything. Whenever you joined him for bike rides or lunch or spent any time with him, you tried your hardest not to look at him like he was your whole world, there was just something about the newly found colors that made him all the more desirable, you were constantly surrounded by them and it was almost suffocating.
You felt like everyone was at peace except your heart.
You didn't know when it properly began, this feeling, it was way before you received the gift of seeing him in full color, that you knew. For so long your mind had been splintered, a wash of memories and tides of feelings that didn't belong. You had felt them all, and spent nights pondering, twisting the emotions in your head in an effort to understand.
The understanding had come by degrees; an analysis of the fluttering drop in your stomach every time he looked your way, a good deal of thought on why his gait approaching the bridge made your lips curve, questioning your body's worrying habit of growing warm and flushed whenever he spoke to you. You remembered the memories of these feelings in the past but these were different, these were yours, whole and actual, and so now you were left with a problem you had not pondered before.
You asked yourself: Once you feel a feeling, really and truly, what do you do with it? Having no choice but to feel, you cherished all the more deeply the ability to act. If only you knew what action to take.
There was something special and meaningful about the sidelong glances he would give you on occasion. You couldn't describe it, because you didn't quite know what these looks meant. These feelings were nothing like the oblique silence and occasional amusement you were used to. No, these feelings coiled up in your stomach and seemed to release all kinds of other inexplicable ones on you. You wondered if perhaps he felt it too, though you doubted it.
There had never been a defining moment where you felt the world shift and everything change. No, there had never been a defining moment where the proverbial light bulb had blinked on in your head. You reasoned that it was something you already knew the second you laid eyes on him, only you just tried not to act on it because things like romance were quickly out the window given your position. Your friendship had moved along so smoothly and naturally that each new step seemed to be nothing but an extension of the step before it. You supposed it was lucky that your relationship was built upon such a strong foundation of friendship as you credited this for why the transition to something more would make so much sense.
It seemed sometimes that it was more likely you and Asher were two halves of the same whole rather than two entirely separate people. When you were brash, he was calm. He was clever while you were very straightforward. There was a balance stuck between you two, once it was established, it felt as if it had always been there.
If you were the shadow to his light, then it was just as true that you were the ocean to his moon. Always being pushed and pulled by the movements of the other, his goals motivated you to work toward greater things. Your separate worlds revolving around each other, so closely and so in sync with each other that at some point, they must've combined to create a single universe.
As the days went by, you had much difficulty acting as if you didn't have feelings for him. You wanted to ask sometime, see if his thoughts matched your own memories. There was a lot of things you wanted to ask Asher, and there was so much you wanted to show him.
You two were just taking the day easy, enjoying one another's company.
He elbowed you playfully and chuckled softly as you both read together by the dying candle at your bedside table. He squinted, cocking his head, and sighed in frustration to signal that he needed you to speak a word for him.
Now he was elbowing you to grab your attention, and you pulled your gaze from your own book to glance at the word he held a single finger over. The Giver gave you plenty of books to read that told the stories of several past lives and the history of what was before. You weren't allowed to share them with anyone but Asher caught you reading a book one day, and he was so curious as to what it was about that you felt compelled to share.
"Asher, you know that word, don't joke," you said with a sigh before turning your eyes back to your book. Things were starting to heat up between the characters in it so you were eager to continue.
"Y/N, I know how to read the word," he said, leveling his gaze on you.
You felt his eyes searching you, but you shrugged without looking up. "Then why'd you ask?"
"I - I wish to know what the word means," he stuttered, dropping his eyes back to the book in his lap. You watched as his finger came down to brush over the word as though to feel the pen strokes that made it.
You sighed and closed your book before turning to look at him. Why was he blushing? You wondered and then looked down at the word under his fingertip again, your throat tightened into a knot as the air became too thick to breathe.
The line read: "For the love of his fair lady."
Love. The word was love.
Your gaze slowly moved up his finger, past his elbow, and up to his still downturned face. His lips were pursed, eyes cast aside so that his face was in the flickering shadow of the dwindling candlelight.
"I am not sure I know what it is to love," he whispered, his voice so quiet that you might have missed the words entirely had you not been so near.
The words now freed, he turned to meet your eyes. The glow of the fire radiated in his own, suffusing them with a golden hue that made your chest feel light and warm.
"Asher, are you asking me to explain love to you?" you asked, the words came out unintentionally hard as they wiggled around the rock at the back of your throat.
"No— I— Never mind, Y/N," he said, returning his gaze back to the page where his finger still worked against the ink of the word.
You swallowed hard to loosen the knot, then gently took hold of his hand from the page.
"I don't mind. Really," you told him with a soft smile. His hand quivered a bit in your grasp but then you loosened it and brought it up to his face. The corners of his mouth turned up into a smile as you brushed a finger along his cheekbone.
"Do you want me to show you?" you asked. He nodded his head almost immediately, his eyes twinkling as they lowered down to your lips.
You pulled him in close and brushed your lips against his so lightly you thought perhaps they had not met at all. His eyes were furrowed and he kept his eyes open as you covered your lips over his.
"Close your eyes," you told him, and he instantly complied.
Leaning in further, you slipped a hand behind his back and turned your lips up towards his again. Indulging you, he tenderly kissed your bottom lip two times before pressing his forehead against yours. You could feel the tip of his nose against your own as the last vestiges of candlelight flickered its final warning. His eyes remained closed even when you pulled away, as if hoping and expecting more. When he finally opened them, he looked dazed, wondering what the affectionate gesture meant.
"What was that?" he asked in a whisper, his piercing gaze making your cheeks redden in response.
"Asher, you asked what love is," you said softly. "And that," you paused for a moment to emit a quiet giggle, "was called a kiss, which is part of it - love."
"Mmm," he murmured deep in his throat that you could feel his voice reverberating against your bones.
"This. Right here. This is love," you told him, letting the words float from your lips into his ear before pressing them against his lips again.
"I hoped you might say as much," he said when you withdrew. "Can you teach me more?" he paused for a long moment before he added, "More about this 'love'?"
"Are you sure?" you asked, you couldn't help but feel a little nervous because you never demonstrated what you learned before on anyone, this would be the very first time.
"Yes, I'm sure," he replied with a warm smile. You picked up the open book still in his lap and reached across him to set it on the bedside table where the candle chewed at its last bit of wick. Then you puffed out the flame and settled back next to him.
"Repeat after me..." you said quietly as you parted your lips slightly and found his in the dark, more than happy to finally show him. He kissed back again, lips shaking with the unfamiliarity, his hands nearly frozen by his sides because he didn't know what to do with them.
He sighed when your fingers cupped his jaw, scooting yourself the smallest bit nearer in anticipation, whenever your hand found his face or neck, your kisses always became deeper, slower, more intent. He quickly found that he liked kissing. He liked it a lot, that lulling moment of excitement coiling in his stomach at the promise of more.
You did not disappoint. You responded to his soft sound with a hum of your own and the tip of your tongue darted out, begging with gentle swipes over his bottom lip. His nervous hand settled on your thigh to balance himself as he swayed, drawing nearer unconsciously as you tangled your hands into his hair; he allowed you entrance to his mouth and the slick sensation of your tongues glided and brushed together between open lips which had him trembling in moments. The scene was so sweet and intimate and everything you had anticipated.
"I love you," you mumbled quietly, delighting in the way his lips dragged against yours when you said the words. His other hand joined his first on your leg, helping him keep his remain steady as you twisted into one another while sitting side by side on the bed.
You captured his lower lip and suckled upon it, toying at it with your tongue as you pulled more sounds from him, uttering quiet moans from his throat as his fingers tightened around your soft thigh.
"Asher," you whispered his name once you pulled away from his mouth, peppering his cheeks with kisses. His heavily lidded eyes gazed back into yours, glazed with a burning desire that practically radiated from his body. Your fingers released his hair to cup his face and lead him down, and he gave himself over all too easily, allowing you to kiss and suck and lick all of his mouth however you wanted.
The only sounds in the room were the smack of lips and the hitching sound of breaths, as though nothing could intrude upon this private moment but the noises you both made-like nothing could exist here within the sanctuary of you two together. He lost himself in sounds and sensations until he was crawling even nearer, and you threw a leg over one of his in an effort to get closer still.
He did not seem to mind; your hands settled upon his waist to help stabilize him and he was more than willing to return every last hungry little kiss he received. He was helpless but to bestow them upon you, so lost was he in his love for you. Every single time you nipped and nibbled for more, you met the explorations of his lips and tongue without pause, giving him exactly what he wanted.
The closeness was divine, and Asher greedily drank up his chance to experience it, to experience this expression of your love—just him and you and passion and touching and perfection.
With one knee between your loosely open legs and one of your own rising between his spread thighs, he calmed, soothed as he was by the way your bodies twined together so easily. It was much more than you both had ever done before, this weaving of your bodies together, but the appeal whispered encouragement in his own ear like sugared honey, drawing him down and sticking him to you.
Your leg rose higher as the kissing continued, pressing up against him, and soon enough he was grinding down onto your lower half without fully registering what he was doing. It was only when you began to do the same to his own leg that he noticed the pressure building at the apex of his thighs. His stomach was hot: not like he was ill, but something far more pleasant, warm, and seductive like when the comfort of a warm bath was too relaxing to get out of after a long day. He found himself rubbing his groin down onto your leg again, desperate for the relief the friction gave him and unsure how to handle the rushing flood of sensations: fullness and heat and a soft of tingle that spread out from the base of his spine and wove through his body.
"Y/N–" he whimpered, hands curling around your shoulders as he sat himself down harder in an effort to feel it more—both that tightness in his trousers and the swirling in his gut. He began to rock his hips, an unconscious move as he sought more, and you moaned quietly beneath him.
It was not until your hand cupped over his groin and rubbed at him through his clothes that he froze in alarm and recognized his own aberrant behavior. "Y/N–?" he asked, sitting up and shifting back and away. His eyes searched your expression for an explanation, mapping over the tension at the corner of your eyes, the darker shade of eyes themselves as your pupils widened, the red flush lighting across your skin, but he found that it all made you look so beautiful and had him still wanting to kiss your lips—still shining with the slickness of your shared saliva from having just interrupted the kiss.
"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry," you said quickly, cheeks flushing even more so from embarrassment, dropping your eyes away from his.
He squirmed when the heat in his body began to abate as the long silence drew on, missing the heady buzz when the tightness in his trousers remained. "I–I want you, Y/N, I want this, but... what were you doing?"
Your eyes widened as your brows rose as well, and your hands would have lifted entirely from his hips had he not caught them and held them back down himself. You looked at him intently as you had just moments before, swallowing a gulp.
"Asher," you said seriously, stroking your thumbs over his side soothingly but not forcing him to stop the slow rolls of his hips. You were glad for his concession; the motions helped to calm the nervous flutter in your stomach, if only for just a moment. You wet your lips and tried again. "Asher, do you know where babies come from?"
His eyes narrowed slightly and he chuckled. "Of course," he said tartly, sitting upright in his offense and stilling himself. "I know all about the insemination of a bearer and the gestation of the infant before it's born. They taught us all about that in school."
You blinked up at him, feeling that knot making its way back to your throat. "But you don't know about the sex part, right?"
Something about the way you voiced the question was something he couldn't quite put his finger on, but it spoke to him of ignorance. "What about it?" he asked. He could see you thinking carefully over your words and he frowned, not precisely sure what he was missing in all of this.
You looked up into his eyes when you were finally ready, licking your already wet lips nervously. "Asher," you said, tone gentle and hands a warm comfort around his hips. "it– sex doesn't have to be only for making babies. It feels very pleasurable, too, and I want to have sex with you—if you would like. Do you understand?"
"I'm not exactly sure what this means," he pulled his lower lip in between his teeth and worried at it, trying to comprehend your words. "But I know that I want to learn, and I know that you'll be able to show me exactly what it means," he paused before he added, "So can you please?" he asked.
You nodded your head and replied, "Absolutely."
His cheeks were flushed when he ground himself down onto your thigh, the movement instantly surged heat through your loins so in an effort to banish it, your hands stopped him this time, holding him still to signal him to focus.
"How does it even-" he asked after a long pause.
You moaned again, bucking your own hips forward just once into his, and he would have wondered if it was a bad sound had you not shot him a reassuring smile. "There's many ways," you said, licking your lips again even though they were visibly still moist, "anyone can have sex if they desire it."
"Oh. And you desire?" he questioned, eyebrow raised.
You looked timid now, because a part of you knew you weren't supposed to explore this with him, with anyone in fact, it was simply forbidden but with the way he was looking at you, like he was looking at you in color for the first time, you were sure you wanted this. "I do," you said finally, almost defiantly.
He made a noise at that, little more than a chirp of acknowledgement. His cheeks felt bright enough to light a forge, burning so hot he could feel it emanating off his skin. "Show me?"
You brows pinched together, and you frowned slightly, feeling like your stomach fell out.
"Asher," you said softly, "This is... This is an important decision. You shouldn't rush yourself on my account."
Asher felt warmth flood his chest upon your words,. You were merely concerned about him.
"Just because I was unaware of the possibility and lack an understanding of the mechanics does not mean I cannot grasp the gravity of our decision," he said, bringing a hand up to cup your jaw so he could lean close and kiss you. "Y/N, I want this, and I don't know what this is exactly but I want you to show me how to do it—I want this."
You smiled at that, bringing both of your hands to catch his face and hold him while you kissed him again. "You. Tell me. If. We need. To stop," you insisted between kisses.
He nodded and let himself fall into your kisses, catching his balance with one hand on your shoulder while the other threaded into the locks of your hair, twisting and curling through the strands. "Yes," he promised, letting his weight drop more fully against your body when he felt a pulse in his groin again.
Your hands returned as your kisses grew more fervent, kneading and running across his flies, making him feel a tight pressure there. "What're you–?" he asked, mumbling into your kisses even as he pushed his hips forward to meet your rubbing palm. It felt so good, being touched there.
"Want to touch you," you supplied, cupping him in your hand and grabbing at his member. Your fingers caged the sweet full feeling, firm but oh so gentle. He thrust his hips forward again with a quiet grunt, shoving his thickening shaft into your hand.
"Is it supposed to swell like this?" he asked, voice ragged and catching whenever your fingers tightened around him. "It feels bigger, the more you do that."
You moaned in response, looking up at him from behind low lashes when you bumped your foreheads together. "Yes," you said, just as raw sounding as he felt even though neither of you had been shouting or running. "Completely normal," the rumble of your voice shook through him and settled in his groin, making the organ jump in your hand. "Do you like this?"
Now that he was chasing after the filling sensation instead of ignoring it, he found that he did enjoy it—it was a pleasant churning below his belly and the feeling of your hand touching him was acutely pleasurable. It was easily as nice as kissing. "I do," he whimpered, letting his voice crack without concern when your fingers stroked up the length of him again. He reached a hand out, palm falling flush against your abdomen. "Can I make you feel good too?"
You chuckled, nosing at his jawline after giving him a chaste kiss. "Please do," you said, nodding encouragingly when he slid his hand lower and rolled his hips as he did.
His fingers stroked down in between your legs, curious and deft as they mapped around it, and he could feel the warmth of your skin and the beat of your pulse through the flesh when he flattened his palm over it. You nudged your hips forward into his hand, just like he had done unconsciously when your hand did the same to him.
"It feels wet," he murmured, looking down to watch what you were doing. Your legs were spread open, making room for his questing hand, inching yourself into it in desperation for more contact. You smiled up at him coyly in response. His hand mimicked yours, touching you still through your clothes and dragging up a moan out of your chest with every little press around your sex. Your hand continued its movements, giving him a good kind of ache, tingly and pleasurable whenever your fingers smoothed over him. You noticed that his tight clothing was starting to feel painful though, pinching and holding him down—he definitely felt like he no longer fit properly in them anymore.
He made a small sound of distress when another throb in his groin felt squeezed too hard, nearly good but not quite, and your hand stilled—he repeated the sorrowful noise when he lost the sensation of your fingers.
"Did I hurt you?" you asked, looking up at him, slipping your fingers away from him slowly.
He shook his head furiously. "No," he whined, "I like you touching, it– my trousers are..." he looked down at his pants before glancing up at you, "Please, it's so uncomfortable; what did we do?"
"Oh, here," you said, giving him one last stroke before you pulled your hand away, making him groan—that felt so good, and he wanted more, whatever that may be. "Let us get you..." your fingers worked with surety, tugging at his laces until the bad pressure was gone and only the pleasant one remained, and you cupped him with your palm again when he sighed in relief. "Is that better?" you asked, hand moving so slowly that he ached for more.
He nodded and let his head drop in delight, sliding forward on the bed to chase your hand when you moved away.
"Do you want more?" you asked, tracing your fingertips curiously over the hair on his stomach of where he craved you below within his opened clothes. You made aborted little thrusts with your own hips while you waited for him to answer.
"Does yours hurt too?" he asked, curious.
You shook your head. "No," you smiled softly, "it doesn't," you giggled, dripping your fingers lower to toy with the loosened ties on his trousers. "You're the one that felt so big in my hand, thick and hot," you whispered, you looked up at him with an expression that he didn't quite recognize.
He chewed down on his lip and felt his brows furrow in concern. "Is that good?" he asked. "Should it do that? Am I doing it right?"
Your hands found his hips and smoothed up his sides to cup his ribs, pulling him down with the hold so you could kiss him. He relaxed into it, bringing his hands up to your shoulders, and sighed when your lips were released. "You're just fine," you promised, thumbs stroking so gently over his sides that he found himself trembling and making even more noises when his hips moved downwards. "Good," you said, gasping softly, "you're so good, yes."
"Here," you said, reaching behind him to hook your fingers on the sides of his trousers, making your own sympathetic noise of disappointment when he whined at losing the contact. "Let us get you out of these clothes, hm?"
He rose to his knees and helped you shove his trousers and boxers down, grunting when they clung to his bottom—you hadn't unlaced them fully and they were definitely still snug. Once they were down around his thighs, he looked down and gasped lowly, falling back in alarm at the sight of his erect member and landing in a bit of a heap on his bottom. You gazed down as how it jutted out from his body, swaying and stiff and much larger than usual. You drank in the sight of it: the skin itself was red, thick veins wove purplish streams across his length, and the tip was shiny—almost as though it was wet. When he saw the stain on his underwear, he froze at the sight, staring hard at it.
"Asher?" you asked when you saw his shadowed expression, crawling closer and stilling your hand where it still held the waistband caught around his knees. "Are you okay?"
He shook his head, refusing to meet your eyes.
"Did you hurt yourself when you fell? Twist something?" you questioned, your hands were up on his chest in a moment, trying to lift and support him against your body, and he buried his face against your shoulder to avoid looking at you.
"No, I– nothing like that," he whispered, even while hiding, you could not resist stealing peeks at his member; your curious eyes took in everything about it, studying the thick girth that rose from his hips even as you tried not to look at the distinctively moist tip. "I didn't mean to wet myself," he murmured in shame, so quiet he hoped you could not actually hear. "I couldn't even feel it happen."
"Wet your–? Oh!" you forced his head up with a gentle finger below his chin and kissed his cheek. "No, Asher, that– you're fine, that's normal," you promised. "You haven't wet yourself."
He sagged against you, relieved. "Truly? You're not just saying that?"
You smiled reassuringly at him. "I swear it. Trust me," your hand reached down and you wrapped a finger and thumb around the head of his member, pressing just long enough to make a fresh bead of fluid appear at the tip before you swiped it up with your pad and brought it to your lips.
You kept your eyes locked with his as you licked your hand clean, and he could feel himself throb—bobbing in the cool air—as he watched your tongue slide over your digit. He didn't know a good word for it, but he certainly thought he liked it, watching you do that.
"Mmm," you uttered softly, "perfectly normal."
"...Can I see?" he asked quietly, reaching up to grab your hand. You wove your fingers together, infinitely patient and so sweet that his heart ached with love for you. He felt his heart beat fast from the little thrill of excitement racing through him at how tender you were being, and it helped him to ask. "Can I see yours?"
You closed your eyes and nodded, moaning, and he let you go so you could remove your top. He watched in hungry awe as you rucked your blouse up from behind yourself and tossed it over your head before you worked open the laces on your pants, rolling onto your back to shove the rest of your clothes down and off your legs.
"You're so beautiful," he told you in a whisper.
"Thank you," you murmured back.
You felt so exposed, gasping softly when the cool air hit your sex, and he was staring at the little shiny smear of liquid that coated your flesh. "See?" you smiled, running your hand down over it gently before you held your wet palm up for him to see.
He snatched it close and licked it like you had, pressing his tongue all across the drips of your hand as he tasted the wetness covering your palm. It was sharp and kind of salty, but he sort of liked it. He licked every spot of slick he could find on your hand, wanting to be sure he had tasted the right thing and not just some flavor of your skin. He looked at you with wide eyes when you whined low in your throat and your other hand slid under his hair to cradle the back of his head to pull him closer. You guided him close for a soft kiss and you chuckled when you separated with a quiet smack of lips, leaning his forehead against your temple. "I love this," you whispered.
The tone you used to say it shot straight through him like a blast of lit powder, making his member pulse and drawing up a heated groan from deep in his stomach. "Yes," he gasped, turning toward you for more until his trousers—still tangled around his knees—twisted up further and spilled him over into your side with a yelp.
"Easy," you said with a quick little burst of a giggle, helping to right him and shifting so you could kneel between his legs. "We don't have to rush anything," you told him, taking hold of his trousers and underwear, yanking them down the rest of the way off his legs. "Just because I'm thinking something does not mean we have to do it. Especially not our first time."
You crawled back up onto the bed and he spread his legs, welcoming you to stay between them. "I want to. Show me more?" he asked. Looking down at you perched on the bed with his thighs framing you made his gut tip and tumble like he was falling, and you could see a shiny little puddle beginning to form under the head of his member where it laid upon his belly.
You looked at him approvingly. You drew up close between his legs—body so near he could feel the heat of you so perfectly. "Please touch me more," he begged, drawing his lip between his teeth. He leaned back onto his elbows when you knelt between his legs, wanting to watch, and he fought down a nervous chuckle when he saw himself twitch and lift involuntarily into the air from off his stomach again for a moment. You looked up into his eyes, expression lit in wonder when you finally let yourself touch—warm palm heavy over the pounding of his heart. "You're absolutely amazing."
"Y/N," he denied, laughing awkwardly, "I'm nothing spec–"
"You are to me," you said seriously, interrupting his flustered denial. "Absolutely and utterly, Asher."
"Y/N," he uttered your name through a strained whine, drawn with tension. "Please," he asked in the same wrecked voice, "please touch me."
You nodded and leaned over him, bringing your hand to cradle his neck so you could pull yourself closer and kiss him; the other stroked over his hair, toying with the messy strands before cupping the back of his head and holding him still as your tongue explored and absolutely plundered the inside of his mouth. It was fiercer than any of the previous kisses, laced with the strong need thrumming through the both of you, and he gave himself up to it gladly—ever in search of more from you.
You slid your hand up his shirt until your palm was pressed flush to his heated skin, and he gasped when you smoothed down over the swell of his chest and your fingers rubbed across his nipple.
"You like that?" you asked, circling the little bud with a whisper of fingers over the visible rise in his shirt and smiling when he arched toward you, shoving his chest into your teasing hand for more. "I'll take that to be a 'yes'," you giggled breathlessly, like you were as surprised by the reaction as he felt. You shoved his shirt up to bunch up under his arms, revealing his chest, and your fingers returned swiftly as soon as he was bared to you. You pressed them harder now, stroking with intent around the taut flesh surrounding the peak before you captured it between your index finger and thumb and tugged.
It wasn't a hard pull, but it was enough, delightful and just the tiniest twinge of strain as his skin stretched up before your palm was stroking over it again and those fingers of yours were sliding back down to roll the tender nub between them.
You bent close and captured it with your mouth, switching to use your hand on his other side. Lips and teeth nipped and nibbled, pulling and flicking while your tongue rolled the bud and circled around and over it in steady licks.
He was transfixed, insides aflame from the pleasure of your varied caresses and eyes hungry as he took in how ardently you bestowed those titillating attentions upon his body. Just when he thought he had figured out all there was to know of that pleasurable act, you were moving again and taking him by surprise. He mewled when you closed your lips around the peak and sucked, teasing at it with your tongue to prolong his wordless pleas as the pressure from your suction rushed more blood to the area and made it throb.
He was reaching for you as soon as those lips released his reddened skin catching your cheeks between his palms and pulling you up for a frenzied kiss.
"More," he begged against your lips when you both panted for air into one another's mouths. "Please show me what else there is."
You nodded and kissed him again, letting your hands smooth down his torso languidly as you teased and taunted his tongue to play with your own until you were both breathless. Then you slipped his shirt up and over his head, needing to feel his skin everywhere against yours.
"There," you said, sounding satisfied as you pulled the garment away. "Much better."
He nodded his agreement before leaning back further on the mattress. You looked positively ravenous as your eyes tracked down his body, like you had a hunger that would never be sated, and he was desperate to see what that would mean for him.
Lips pressed feather-light to his chest as you leaned back in, and he wondered for a moment if you were planning to touch his nipples more—they were tender now but aching in the same good way as his groin. Your hand closed around his member, fingers gentle but tight as they circled around his heated flesh to form a fist.
He bucked up into the touch on instinct and groaned from the heavenly feeling of your fingers stroking over his flesh in a constricting ring. "Y/N," he groaned, watching the tip of his member disappear into your fist when you took his movement as an incentive to begin and carefully pulled your hand back up the way it had come.
He could feel the smooth glide of your fist over him, dragging his foreskin up and down with every sure pump of your hand, and he could not determine what aroused him more—the sight of your hand upon him, the perfect pressure circling his shaft, or the expression on your face as you watched him melt under your touch.
"You like that?" you asked, keeping your hand slow and drawing out his sweet suffering.
He nodded and whimpered, letting his hips flex and jump to meet your hand again once he saw the hungry flash in your eyes after the first time he did it. You stilled your hand so you could rub your thumb over the leaking tip and spread around the moisture there. You kept it up until the entire head was shiny and slippery, and he squirmed when he saw even more liquid beading at the tip from how good it all felt.
"That feels so good," he ground out. Your thumb dug into the skin under the head had him quivering and moaning out sharply with the surge of pleasure it brought down upon him. He met your strokes with needy rolls of his hips, your fingers continued to knead at his throbbing flesh and soothed the burn for more knotting in his stomach, like you knew exactly what he needed from you. "Please don't stop," he whispered hoarsely when your slicked palm swirled around the head and back down over him again in one fluid motion.
"There's so much I want to show you still, Asher," you told him softly.
He nodded his encouragement, pleased with the idea. "Please, Y/N," he sighed, "keep going. What else?"
Your eyes flashed again, and his body answered with a shiver that raced up the length of his body. "I want to kiss you," you said, hand still stroking rhythmically. "Want to use my mouth."
"I love kissing," he blurted out, nodding further.
"I know," you said with a smile, so wide that the corners of your eyes crinkled. "But I didn't mean on your lips."
His brows lowered in confusion for a moment before shooting high instead when you started to curl your body down; he gave you one final jerky nod of approval before those soft lips pressed a chaste kiss onto the wet crown of his member. He shuddered, thighs quaking around you, and his toes curled when his legs began to tense with excitement as your lips dropped more and more small kisses all across the throbbing shaft of flesh jutting up from where your fingers still circled the base. You paused just long enough to scoot your body down more so you were lying upon the bed, and you continued where you had left off as soon as you could. His eyes tracked your lips with curious intent, watching in awe and studying quite seriously as you left little fragmented kiss prints on him from the moisture painting your lips every time you kissed the tip again. The barely-there touches had his stomach quivering, and he sucked in a loud breath in surprise when you opened your mouth to circle your lips around the top of the flesh in your hand.
"Oh," he let out a needy sound, only just keeping his hips from bucking up when the warmth surrounding him sunk down to swallow his member.
Intelligible sounds poured from his own spread lips, filling the air, and he gave a startled laugh when he saw your eyes crinkled again—somehow, with your mouth full of his member, you were still able to smile at him.
You drew up with a lewd pop and smiled further as you rested your head upon his thigh, looking up at him. "Okay?"
He laughed breathlessly. "I– this is– I don't have words," he said. You brought up a hand and tangled your fingers together, just looking at one another while he tried to catch his breath. "Thank you, for showing me all this," he said softly, favoring you with a fond look. You turned your face and nuzzled into his thigh, causing a tiny thrill to light through him at the contact. "There's still more," you whispered, peering up at him out of the corners of your eyes, "...if you would like."
His eyes widened, lips falling open into a little gasp. "Truly?" he asked, and you nodded your head slowly. He licked his lips before returning the lower one to the crush of his teeth. "Show me?"
"More?"
"Everything," he breathed. "Everything you wanted to do, Y/N; I want to know it all," he had not meant to forestall you from moving further, he merely had never imagined there was anything else you both could do.
Your following moan sent his insides fluttering again and you chuckled when his member gave a visible lurch from his own excitement rising again at the sound.
"I would love nothing more," you admitted, sliding your head forward again to recapture his member in your mouth. He bucked his hips despite himself, thrusting into the suckling heat surrounding him, but instead of chastising him or pulling away, you merely hummed in approval and bobbed with his involuntary motions.
The combination of the heat and the suction and the utterly wicked feeling of your tongue teasing along the underside of his full member had him squirming and moaning again in what was probably an embarrassingly short time—you didn't say anything, too busy sucking, so he tried to believe that he wasn't making a fool of himself for reacting so powerfully, so swiftly.
He couldn't help it. It was just so good.
He felt his testicles pulling up, drawing closer to his body like they did when cold despite the inferno raging through him and warming him from head to toe, and your other hand slid up to fondle them—he gasped at the sensation of your fingers touching him there.
How did everything you did to him feel so good?
He never wanted it to end.
Your fingers cradled his tensing flesh, thumb stroking lovingly over the crinkled skin encasing the orbs in your hand, and it made the building tingle in his loins crawl up into his member from the base upward. He felt it twitch within your mouth, responding to your talented fingers and tongue and lips that seemed to know so very much about how to make his body feel good. He barely had time to register his balls being released so your hand could move further down when his muscles began to contract and he was struck by the powerful wave of his concentrated pleasure suddenly radiating outward to catch his whole body up in it.
His member pulsed within your mouth as your lips and fingers tightened around him, taking him by surprise when he could feel himself emptying, something with every quick spike of pleasure that followed.
And in a matter of moments, it was over.
He slumped down onto his back, sweaty and exhausted even though he had just been lying there the whole time doing nothing, and grinned goofily up at the ceiling while a dizzying euphoric feeling trickled into his weak limbs.
You appeared above him moments later, smiling triumphantly and using one thumb to wipe away the mess of white globs of fluid that framed your swollen lips and dribbled down your chin. You looked absolutely beautiful, so proud of yourself and elated and still flushing, and he wanted nothing more than to hold you close and feel loved by all that enthusiasm and light.
"So that was your first orgasm?" you asked, blushing further when the words came out, eyes sparkling as you sucked your thumb clean and considered Asher with watchful eyes.
He nodded slowly. "I suppose so? Is that what that was?" he smiled up at you and pulled you down for a lazy kiss, wanting to show you his love and appreciation even as his body felt leaden and weak. The taste was different than your usual kisses, sharp again like the slick from his member, and his fuddled brain started to put together the pieces of what had happened, trying to connect it with the knowledge he had. "Did I do it right?" he asked.
You groaned happily and kissed him again before nuzzling into the side of his face, pressing your brow into his temple. "Yes, that was beautiful, Asher," you promised. "Thank you, for allowing me to give you your first," you kissed his cheek and drew up to look down into his eyes again. "Did you enjoy it?"
"Your kisses taste funny now," he said, slapping a hand over his mouth when he realized how rude that sounded. He blushed and nodded. "I– yes, I liked it."
You laughed. "That is your fault, I'm afraid," you said.
"Sorry," he said. "I wasn't aware that it would do that."
You just shook your head and smiled down at him, so warm and kind and caring that his heart fluttered happily in his chest. "Don't worry yourself over it, Asher, I did. I knew that was going to happen... but I've never actually done this before, so I did make a bit of a mess."
"So that was supposed to happen?" he felt his brows curling together with his creeping uncertainty but you were quick to kiss the forming wrinkle and soothe his nerves with a smile and a nod.
"Mmm, absolutely, that's how an orgasm works," you giggled, winking at him.
He wrinkled his nose up at you, smiling back, "Oh, got it."
You leaned in and pressed your brows together. Asher swallowed the thickness in his throat and continued smiling up at you, but you saw his nerves showing through right away.
"What's wrong?" you asked, voice and hands so soft that he ached.
He squirmed under your watch and grimaced. He didn't even know what he wanted to say, exactly, and he did not wish to upset you by making a mistake. "I just..." he frowned. "I... Was that everything?" he asked quietly.
You waited patiently for him to continue on.
He could do this.
"I don't want to sound greedy, but... is there more?" he questioned, and you quirked a brow at him in a question while you still smiled so he kept going. "It's only... right before I... I don't know the word." he flushed in embarrassment.
Your stroked his cheek when you replied, "No worries. There's a lot of different phrases, but I'm assuming you're talking about your orgasm."
He nodded. "Right before I... before I orgasmed, you... um..." his eyes darted away, but you followed, looking just as intent when he shifted back into view.
"I'm sorry, should I not have touched you there?" you asked.
"No!" his shout was loud enough to startle you both and you jerked back in surprise. "No," he repeated, calmer this time. "I... it felt so good, Y/N," he admitted. He bit down on his lip and looked up at you. "I was hoping you would touch me there again. Or do I have to stop, since I... since I have...?" he gestured to the mess of his seed where drops had fallen from your chin to dot his stomach.
Your quick inhale of breath was loud and the answering moan that followed had hopeful little pebbles tumbling about in his belly like a child's rattle—that was the sound you made when you liked something he had said.
It was a sound he had locked up tightly in his heart so he could never forget it.
You pushed yourself back onto your arms and moved so you were lifted up above him again, shooting down a grin that had his soft member twitching where it laid against his thigh. Your eyes flicked down—you had noticed it—and you looked back up again at him with so much wonder and devotion in your eyes that you wanted to draw him back down into your arms and just hold him—just let yourself feel how much you loved him.
Though, you also wanted to feel more, experience more with him.
"I want to feel you inside me, Asher," you blurted out suddenly, much to his surprise, including your own.
"You–you want me inside you?" he questioned like he wasn't sure what you were talking about, his eyebrows raised.
"I want this," you grasped his member gently, giving it a long and slow stroke to accentuate your point, "inside me, here," you guided it to your entrance, which made his eyes widen in response. "I promise it's going to feel really good," you told him, "I really want to—" you paused, "only if you want to try it too."
"I do," he quickly replied. He was so aroused and embarrassed both from your words and actions, and he nodded furiously in blind agreement. "Yes, I want to be inside you."
"Okay," you giggled breathlessly. You brought his member close between your legs, and you gasped when the blunt tip popped past your opening, taken by surprise by the new width pressing into you. He grunted when he was welcomed by your tight warmth, throwing his head back when you clenched all around him, and he felt like he might come right then and there but he took a deep breath to calm himself.
He paused, taking this all in, and then you quickly told him, "Move, please, just fill me up, and thrust your hips against me," you instructed around a strained gasp.
You bucked your hips against him to urge him to move, he thrust back against you slowly, sliding into you with caution and care, and you felt tears slip down your cheeks when you squeezed your eyes closed.
"Am I hurting you?" he asked with a soft tone, bringing a hand up to sweep the drops away.
"No– no, it," you took a shuddering breath and reached up to pull him in closer. "It is just feels so good," you whispered, hiding your face against his neck and breathing in deeply of his scent—familiar and comforting and now so desirable. "I like it," you assured him, "it feels so good," you repeated.
"You're sure?" he asked, his hand stroking up and down your back, trying to still the quivering muscles of his core as you shook around him, and his voice was such a dizzying mixture of compassion and desire—even through his worry, he lusted and wanted.
You loved it, to put it simply.
"Absolutely," you promised. You smiled down at him and gave a lilting little moan as your bodies shifted. You rocked your hips into him desperately and he immediately obliged by doing the same to yours in return.
"'s nice," he moaned, "so good, Y/N, I love this," he breathed.
"And me?" you teased around a gasp. He curled around you and groaned, sound so low and deep in his chest that you could feel it rumbling through the both of you. You gripped onto both of his shoulders, making his member jump where it was trapped between your bodies.
"Wha–?" he asked, struggling to focus on what you were saying—he wondered how you could ask him questions and expect him to know anything when his body was under such a pleasant onslaught such as this.
He started slowly, rocking your bodies together as he thrust his hips without pulling back from your embrace, and you were left panting into his cheek from the slippery glide of your bodies. His member was so heavy within you, filling you and stroking through you with a building wave of pleasure. There were no words that could fully encompass what you did to him, what you made him feel—emotionally as well as physically. He felt so wanton: every single time you showed him something, he found himself utterly unable to get enough of it, filled to the brim and bursting with a lust for more of your touch that he could not slake.
"Do you love me too?" you asked against his cheek, "or just the things I can do to you?" you teased.
"I've loved you all my life and you know it," he confessed, letting out a loud groan afterwards before he continued. "You are everything to me, and only with you do I desire such things to be done to me," he said the promise into your lips. He captured your lips in a powerful, claiming kiss, sealing his words with his passion. "I love you–so much, so much, Y/N."
"I love you too," you whispered back, clutching at his shoulders tighter and holding him close. You kissed him again, as needy and forceful as his had been. "Please keep going," you begged.
You crooned when he nudged that blessed trigger spot inside of you, moaning high into a whine when he snapped his hips forward and hit it again. Ye–yes, that... Asher!"
"There?" he asked, eyes closed with the mixture of concentration and his own bliss—every push into you was a stroke for his member as well.
"There," you nodded, "right th– nngh," you uttered, your hand clawing crescents into his shoulders as you clung to him, but then you slipped one away to guide one of his hands upon your quivering clit. "Touch me here, please, I'm not going to last long," you apologized, mouthing at the side of his neck. "You feel too good, love you so much," you whimpered. He pressed his finger against your clit, giving you the much needed pressure that you longed for, rolling the pad of it up and down, back and forth in tight circles. His messy strands of hair clung to his sweaty skin as he tried to catch his breath while he slammed into you again and again.
Your thrust hit true, and that building mountain of sensations within you crumbled into a rock slide to swallow you up in bliss in an instant, and you let it take you gladly. You whimpered his name like a prayer and let your hips jerk with it, filling the space between you two as he continued to drive his hips forward.
You were only just through the tremors when you felt the flood of heat behind your tailbone and you tightened your arms around him when his motions became erratic, holding him close as he emptied himself within your body and clung to all the new sensations wracking his body– your bodies, together.
He hissed when he drew his member out—still flushed and beautiful and wet from his own fluids where they were slowly spilling out of you, making you shiver.
You collapsed onto the bed in a tired heap, reaching a hand out to him while a sleepy smile already threatened to overtake his expression, he looked as sated and exhausted as he felt. He rolled onto his side and wiggled closer until you could hold one another once more, and he leaned in until he could kiss the top of your nose. "Thank you," he said simply, his smile widening. "For being honest with me, and patient," he lowered his head down to your shoulder and nuzzled into the slope of your neck. "And for being such a good teacher," he hummed. "I love you."
Fingers stroked over your damp skin, tangling in your ruined hair when they crawled up your neck, and you laughed. "I should be thanking you, actually," you turned your head and kissed his brow. "Do you feel okay?"
He yawned and nodded. "Sleepy. Empty now," he told you. "But wow."
You seemed to like that answer. "So you enjoyed yourself?" you asked around a soft giggle.
"Yes of course," he admitted with a light smile. "I loved learning everything from you, and I still can't believe how much you know," he chuckled.
You giggled in return when he said that. You pressed just slightly with your hand on his back to bring you two closer. He sunk into you, following the soft touch, and melted further as the caresses there continued. It could have been hours or an instant that you both laid like that, tangled up and filthy; you lost sense of time as you soaked up his love and comfort. You just knew you never wanted it to end.
"Y/N?" he said quietly much later, after your breathing had slowed and your bodies cooled, cutting through the hazy promise of slumber.
"Hmm?"
"When can we do it again?"
Fluffy ending:
The closeness was divine, and Asher greedily drank up his chance to experience it, to experience this expression of your love—just him and you and passion and touching and perfection.
The gentle brush of your hair against his face, the reassuring rise and fall of your chest against his, made him feel that much safer in where he was. His hand gently caressed your arm, noting with satisfaction that you leaned back into him trustingly. You both took an indrawn breath of air before you parted. Your hair framed your face so well that from his angle he could hardly see your eyes, save for the faintest flicker of dark lashes whenever you blinked. You were beyond beautiful to his eyes, making his breathing hitch.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked in a murmur with a half-smile.
Your heart squeezed at that sight. He was a halo of shimmering energy, a sly quirk of his cheek, the faint echo of a promise that burned you to the core.
The knowing twinkle in your gaze had tempted him to sweep you in his arms right then, but instead he just looked at you with heavily lidded eyes, awaiting for a response. You reached out to cup his cheek tenderly. "I was just thinking how lucky I am," you whispered.
His eyes flickered with silent laughter when he answered, "Smooth talker."
He followed the direction of your gaze, losing himself in them as he took another deep breath, and he wasn't certain of what to do next, this was all so new to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck before you pulled him down next to you on the bed gently, tucking your legs up into your stomach, curling into a cozy ball beneath his chin. You extended one hand, lifting your head up so that your eyes never left his, and you two stayed in silence for a while.
"Wrap your arms around me, please," you requested before you added, "if you want to of course."
He shifted slightly, easing his long arms around your waist as he brought you closer to his warm body. "What," he paused before he continued, "is this called? What we are doing?"
"It's called cuddling, or snuggling, either one is fitting," you told him. You went on about the different kinds of cuddling and he listened intently for the first two minutes, but then he became distracted by your lips, and the fascinating way in which they moved to form the words.
It was one feature about you that he never ceases to be amazed by, and he thought about it was possible that your mouth could be so malleable, so pliant, and yet so expert at producing that gorgeous voice of yours? How you had learned to kiss him so easily when you had never kissed anyone before. And he wondered why it was that the memory of your lips on his was enough to drive him wild?
He then realized that you had stopped talking after his reverie ended. Now your piercing eyed were locked on his in open question.
"There is clearly something very interesting going on in that head of yours," you quipped, "but I have the nagging suspicious that you're not going to tell me."
"I love you."
Your brows shot up, your chin slackening slightly in shock. "You... You love me?"
He blinked, silently berating himself for letting it just slip out like that. He had thought it, he had probably been thinking it for months now but he didn't know what it was exactly or what he was feeling. But suddenly you were here, staring up at him so contentedly and the thought had somehow escaped him. "I was... I was trying to... To save it for a, well," he resisted the urge to look away from your quizzical stare, "a more opportune moment. But it seems that my mind had other ideas."
Your cheeks had colored with an endearing shade of pink, and you examined the faint dusting of freckles across his nose fading into a gentle peach blush. "But you love me?"
"Did I say it wrong?" he asked sheepishly, mentally kicking himself for his own impulsiveness. "Y/N, I—"
You pressed your finger up against his mouth then. It was followed by a brushing kiss from a pair of smooth, soft lips. He stared down at you, eyes widening in astonishment. "So... You don't mind?"
"Mind?" you pulled back, allowing your hand to linger on his chest. "Why would I mind?"
"I thought – I was under the impression that people don't usually say that to each other unless they want some form of commitment or something like that," he admitted sheepishly, "But... But it's something that I think I've been thinking to myself for a while now. I didn't mean for it to come out quite so, uh, artlessly."
"And you thought I would react negatively to the idea of being with only you? That I wouldn't want commitment?" you asked.
"You've never talk about it before, so... Maybe," he bowed his head, nibbling on his lower lip nervously.
"Well let me clear something up," you smiled openly then, pressing a fleeting kiss to the very tip of his mandible. "I love you is the most powerful, most evocative phrase a lover can tell another—"then, dotting kisses along his neck, "—but it doesn't scare me. Because, Asher," you paused to punctuate each word with a sweep of your lips against his, "loving you, being committed to you, does not scare me."
His eyes softened, his hands pulling you tighter against him. "Y/N..."
You shivered at the wonderful hum of your name as it rolled off his tongue.
He glanced down to where your hands lingered on his chest. "Can I start again?"
Nodding, your voice little more than a rush of whispered anticipation, "Yes."
"Y/N," he traced your jaw with a finger, watching you shiver at his touch. "I love you."
You cupped his face in your hands, resting your forehead against his tenderly. "I love you too, Asher."
You kissed him softly, relishing the vibrations that hummed from him and cascaded through your body. With each kiss, each caress, and whisper, you were re-learning from each other, melding back into a familiar embrace that had grown cold after such a lengthy separation.
It felt like hours have passed before you finally pulled back, your eyes half-closed. Your breaths mingled, hands clinging on out of desperation and need. Gently stroking your fingers through his hair, you nestled your head against his neck.
"My heart is yours," you whispered, your words burning into him and sealing themselves upon his soul.
He breathed, reveling in the closeness between your bodies. You reached around him, grabbing hold of his hand in yours and squeezing it tightly, the notion took him aback a little but a wide smile ended up creeping its way onto his face as he squeezed it right back, following your lead. You clutched onto his hand as you snuggled up to him, whispering sweet nothings under your breath, and you both found sleep with your hands clasped together.