On second thought, Dean decided to have a quick wash and texted Gen "5min more, gonna shower."
By the time he'd done that and sorted his clothes some, he found Gen already sitting on her bed, in her bathrobe and reading one of the boxes. She put it back on the desk as he came in, smiling shyly with a high colour already in her cheeks.
"Sorry, felt too gross," he said. "You get impatient?" he asked, smiling a little at her ready costume.
"Yeah," she smiled, rubbing her palms down her legs as he sat next to her. He turned toward her, pulling a knee onto the bed, and she noticed how chubby he was already, through his track pants.
"We don't have to use those things straight away," he said again for the umpteenth time, swallowing awkwardly, "if you're not ready. They'll keep, and we haven't really done much yet."
"Yeah, no, I know," Gen shrugged, her knees tight as she worked her hips. "Hey, I wanted to give you a head's up. While you were gone, and once I got better, I was pret-ty bored-"
"Oh yeah?" he smirked.
She smiled back, patiently, saying "Well, I trimmed a bit, down there-"
"Riiight-"
"Shut up, I just got sick of all the hair being in the way. So I'm not nude, as such, but it's definitely not as... natural as it was."
"No problem," he assured, dropping the cheekiness. "It's your muff sweetheart, trim away."
Gen took a deep breath and wiggled her hips a little, her palms rubbing her thighs again and sighing "I miss you. I'm not sure I want to play around too much before..."
"No, me neither," he agreed, shifting closer and putting a hand on hers, stilling it on her thigh. "Hey, you ok? Are you nervous?"
"No, just feeling impatient," she said. The look she gave him was so open and pleading, innocent even, Dean was almost confused. She dipped her fingers between her butt and the bed, pulling out a condom she'd gotten.
"Yes you are," he observed. "Okay then." He pulled his t-shirt off and got up to remove his pants, his cock beginning to bob and fill as he sat back down. He led Gen to stand before him, noting how haltingly she moved, how she minced her legs together.
"I found something else in the bag," she confessed.
"Yeah, the chick said she threw in something pretty," he looked up at her, "A freebie, uh, think it was a hair clip or something."
Gen swallowed her smile, and tempered her breathing, saying "It's not a hairclip."
"Oh... What is it?" he murmured, his chin turned up to her as she stood between his legs.
She loosened the robe's sash and pulled it open, slipping it from her shoulders so it dropped to the ground.
Immediately Dean's eye was caught by something glinting on her vulva. There were two little strings, about an inch long, of transparent pink and white beads resting on her neatly trimmed labia. With the hair cut short to about a centimetre, he could see the shape and seam of her, as well as the tiny loops of metal that held the hanging beads, the thin wire disappearing down between the folds.
"That's not... a hair... Christ..." he breathed. His gaze slid up her body to her face, her breasts framing his view, as he looked at her helplessly. "That's... You're beautiful."
She smiled a little laugh, her chest bouncing slightly with gasps while she managed the sensation.
"Fuck, Gen, how you doin'?" he wondered.
"It feels really good," she whined. She clenched her fists, not even needing to move to feel the tease.
"Yeah," he agreed, running his hands up to her hips to squeeze, and saw her work her legs together a little, the beads glinting.
Dean felt the tightness in his cock now, how his pulse was urging him to do something, and began to sympathise with her desperation. He'd feel sorry for her if she didn't look so pleasured at the same time, her jaw and knees working in control, her lips slack and full, waiting for something, waiting for him to help her. "You wanna sit down baby?"
"Only if I can sit on your cock," she said pleadingly, her hands cupping his jaw as she leaned down to kiss and talk against his mouth. "Please Dean, I miss you. And it feels so good."
He kissed her back quickly saying "Yeah okay sweetheart, I gotcha, hang tight." He snatched at the condom and ripped it open, Gen's forehead rolling on his head as he got ready.
"God my thighs are wet, Dean."
"Ah, not helping," he gritted, rolling the last of it down and working it comfortable.
"Feels like my pussy's sucking on nothing," she whispered.
"Not helping," he growled. He grabbed her head with one hand, her hip with he other, kissing her hard as he led her legs over his lap and she breathed heavily, mewling at the change of position. She reached down to drag her hand over his hardness and lead him back. He chanced a look, watching her body open before him, swollen, shining and near red, cursing Sweet Jesus as he saw how the little clamp looped straight down and back up again either side of her clitoris, the beads swinging around the hood as she moved.
Gen's hold was vice-like – one hand on the back of his head, the other on his shoulder – as she lowered herself non-too-slowly. He watched her eyes press closed and bitten, heavy lips fall open as she tightened her body in response, then sucked in a breath of his own as her low buzz finally pushed down over him and pulled him in. He pressed his fingertips into her hip and cupped the back of her head with his forearm between her shoulder blades. Dean waited one beat, then kissed her hungrily, sucking in her taste. He rolled himself against her body, surging her breasts upwards with his reaching motions, and she moaned on each breath, soon breaking away to gasp openly.
"Ah fuck," she moaned, and sucked on her teeth. "Dean, you feel perfect, just, perfect," she pressed her head against his, rolling it around and clenching her jaw. "Thick. It fills. 'N the push. Uh, God..."
He kissed around her cheek and nuzzled into her neck. "You too," he huffed. "You smell so good... you're all hot... everywhere... squeezin' me just right... s'hard to hold back," he breathed. "How do you want it, huh?"
"Hard," she pleaded through gritted teeth, "please, and deep. Fuck."
She was starting to pull on him with her hands now. He leaned backwards onto the bed, taking her with him and rolled her onto her back, little moans punching out of her as her clit was randomly nudged about. Then he leaned away to hold her hip and used the next few thrusts to help shift her up the bed. She moaned loudly, reaching for him as she felt the root of him push her apart.
Dean looked down, hoping some functional part of his brain would commit this scene to memory, her gorgeous breasts rocking back and forth because of him, her pleasure-wrought face praying his name, her legs and body, open and wet and swollen, for him.
When he thought he couldn't take it any more he dived down, claiming her mouth and noises with his own, moaning with her as he began slamming his hips against hers, aiming for depth and knocking her clit with his pelvis. Her voice jumped in pitch and she grasped his head desperately, her sounds close to sobbing as she tried to say his name.
Then he began drawing back at an angle, dragging his tip back and forth over her g-spot. Gen threw her head back to cry out, clawing at him and almost crawling away with her reaction. He slipped his arm up her back and hooked his grip on her shoulder, leaned on his elbow and barely got four thumping thrusts into her before she yelled out his name and gasped, her thighs trembling tight against his hips as he felt her whole groin quake around him. He moaned hard in surprise, gasped "Ge-en!"on the next breath, and took her mouth on his as they pulled and pushed with their arms and lips. A flash of sweat broke out across their bodies and Dean's rhythm tripped to a stop, deep and pulsing inside her, their jaws leaning, noses touching as they frowned and puffed and held each other.