He somehow gets roped into taking his sister over to Brittany's house for her little sister's birthday party. He's fucking wrecked, sore all over from a brutal two week football camp and a night of cow tipping with Finn and the boys so when he gets there he hands Sarah off to the nearest adult and retreats to the cool quiet of Brittany's bedroom. Pulling off his tee-shirt he collapses onto the queen size bed and lets the pillows and the comforter swallow him whole.
He's not sure how long he actually sleeps but when he wakes it's to a weight bearing down on his back and the distinct feel of skin against skin. The body is warm, smelling of sunshine and tanning oil. It radiates heat despite the frigid blast of the air conditioner perched on the windowsill across the room.
"Come bounce with me," Brittany's familiar voice whispers against his ear.
His response is muffled, buried deep within the batting of two large, plush pillows which Brittany pulls away one by one. "Puh-lease," she whines, flattening herself against him once again.
"Where's Sarah," he sighs in content.
"She's playing dolls with Bethany. All the other kids have left so we can have the Moon Bounce all to ourselves."
"Or we could just stay right here and bounce," he suggests with a chuckle. He crooks his arm back around her waist and shifts until she slides off him and sinks onto the mattress beside him.
His hand splays across her flat stomach, thumb tracing circles against her warm skin. He leans in playfully nipping her earlobe but she's not having any of it. She shakes her head, sending her bangs falling across her forehead and pushes his hand away before climbing off the bed.
"Come on Puck it'll be fun." She pleads grabbing his hand and tugging on it.
"Fuck it," he growls kicking out of the nest of blankets that have wrapped themselves around his legs. He grabs his tee shirt from her desk chair and pulls it back on before following her out of the room.
It's sweltering inside the large, inflatable castle and a thick layer of sweat quickly breaks out across his skin. They take turns doing flips, and cartwheels, and summersaults; trying to see who can out bounce the other. Brittany's laughter echoes off the vinyl every time one of them misses their mark, landing on their asses or colliding with a wall. It's infectious and before long they're both purposely fumbling through complicated gymnastic tumbles in order to make the other laugh louder. Unfortunately during a fancy ass back flip Brittany's unable to get her feet back under her in time and ends up tackling Puck to the ground. His muscles ache and the pits of his tee-shirt are soaked clear through so he doesn't even bother to get back up.
He lays there, his arms and legs sticking to the floor, Brittany's skin slick against his, and the smell of coconut hanging heavy in the air. It's making him hungry. His stomach growls audibly and Brittany giggles against his neck, her hand gliding across his abdomen in slow motion.
"We should have sex," she suggests letting her knee lightly rub against the crotch of his board shorts as her hand slips underneath his tee shirt.
"Pretty sure I suggested that earlier and you shot me down, babe," he replies, toying with the strings on her bikini top, pulling the top set until they give away before moving to the lower strings.
"I've never had sex in a moon bounce before," she adds, pulling away from him—her arm holding the cups of her bathing suite in place.
He pushes himself up with his elbows and watches as she drops the material to the floor before standing. The movement causes her boobs to sway slightly and he has to rub a hand over his hardening cock to quell the ache as she unfastens her shorts and lets them slide down her long, lean legs. She's fucking gorgeous.
He reaches out and grasps her ankle, pulling her back down. When the bouncing subsides he moves to lean over her, capturing a nipple between his teeth and teasing it into a peak with his tongue. His hand slides down between her legs, stroking her over the cotton of her bikini bottoms as his mouth moves to her other breast.
"Puck," she sighs contently and he kind of likes the way his name sounds when it comes out all breathy like that.
Her fingers slide through the short hairs of his Mohawk, nails scraping against his scalp, and he grinds himself against the side of her hip so she can feel how fucking hard he is. She purrs—fucking purrs—and arches up against the hand between her legs.
She's wet. He can feel the dampness slick on the pads of his fingers. He nips the underside of her breast, tastes the chlorine on her skin, and then tugs the strings that hold her bathing suite bottoms in place.
The material falls away and he slides a finger along her slick folds, dipping it in up to the first knuckle before pulling it back out. She whimpers, her hips wiggling in an attempt to seek out his finger, his hand, anything that can get her off.
"Don't tease," she whines.
He laughs against the column of her neck, slips his finger back inside of her, and then moves up to kiss the pout off her pursed lips. His thumb circles her clit, pressing roughly against the nub until Brittany's panting into his mouth, hot air and cherry popsicles. Her entire body shudders; spasms erratically as she comes, coating his finger in a sticky mess.
When she recovers she pushes at his shoulder, nudging him back until he's flat against the vinyl. She makes quick work of the laces on his board shorts, pulling the knot free, and tugging them over his hips. He sighs in relief when his cock springs free, the ache in his balls easing slightly as Brittany's fingers move over him. She licks her lips, places a small kiss against the head of his cock before letting her lips slide around his length.
He palms her ass, letting his finger play over the tight, little hole nestled between each cheek and she giggles, thrusting her hips back a little. "Fuck, Britt," he groans feeling her laugh echo through his entire body. He doesn't mean to angle his hips up, to push his head into the passage of her throat but he does and she gags, pulling off of him.
"Fuck," he growls as she coughs to catch her breath. There are choked tears brimming in her eyes and if she fucking cries it's going to be a serious deflator and not just of his ego.
"That wasn't very nice," she admonishes rubbing the back of her hand across her lips.
"I know, babe," he offers, pushing back up onto his elbows. "It was an accident I swear. Sorry."
He's grateful when she nods and swings one leg across his abdomen, straddling his hips because jerking off alone in a seven year olds birthday party attraction is fucking pathetic and he refuses to be pathetic. She reaches between her legs, grasps his cock, and guides it to her center, shifting her hips to draw him inside of her. She clenches around him, stilling her movements until the both have time to adjust.
They fall into a steady rhythm, every movement reverberated through the inflatable castle causing the whole thing to shift, and bend, and bounce. Their bodies bounce too, leaving the mat for brief moments only to be drawn back down by gravity. Each time that happens he drives a little further inside of her, reaching places he didn't even know existed. She comes twice, her nails dragging down his chest, leaving ugly, red welts but it feels unbelievable and the second time he comes too, spilling into her as they cling to one another.
"That was fun," she sighs against his chest once her breathing returns to normal.
"Mhm," he agrees as the adrenaline begins to wear off and his earlier exhaustion and aching muscles settle back in. He shifts out from under her, dragging his shorts back up over his hips. "I should get Sarah home before my mom puts out a search warrant or some shit."
"Thanks for coming to the party Puck," she adds waving goodbye with the tips of her fingers. "I would have been really bored if you weren't here."
He laughs. "Yeah me too," he agrees nudging her playfully with his foot before grabbing his tee shirt and sliding out of the moon bounce.