#(adam.)

“Hey, can you pay attention to me? M’asking you a question!” Your voice is chiding in the same  bratty way it always is, insistent and only a tiny bit whiny. Usually it makes Adam’s heart (and  cock) swell, but right now he just thinks it’s unfair; he knows you don’t actually expect him to  answer, just wanting to see how much you undo him.  

“I’m trying, princess, I am, you’re just — ah — “ He has to break his words off into a deep  groan, hips bucking up through your hand in response to you beginning to stroke. “ — you’re  too good, baby, I dunno if I can — fuck — handle it. “  

All this does is elicit a giggle of evil and malice from you, and any thought that his pleads would  make you go easier on him disappear in a resigned haze of pleasure. So he nods, though he  still can’t make himself look at you.  

“ ‘Course you can handle it, you’re my big strong boyfriend — it feels good, yeah? You’re  throbbing. ” Your sweet voice saying such vulgar things pulls another groan from him, sweat  beading his skin with how hard it is to keep from using your hand (and you) however he  pleases. It’s like every muscle is straining under you and it’s becoming addicting. He finds his  rhythm like this, enjoying the push and pull and your little coos of affirmation through it all. 

You stay like this for a while, hand pumping up and down in time with his thrusts. Your panties  are ruined by this point, the sight of him above you like this making you leak. He’s so beautiful,  thin sheen of sweat glistening on rippling muscles, thick cock shiny and heavy in your grasp,  veins throbbing so deliciously you have to stop yourself from licking up the length of them.  He’s perfect, you think, face flushed the same deep pink as his cock, lips open in what seems  like a constant groan. His noises spur you on, every “Fuck” and “My perfect girl” that fall from  his lips only making you need more.  

You’ve always thought he was perfect — You’ve never met a guy who fucks like Adam, so  focused on making you feel good with the blessing he’s given, eagerly vocal to show you how  you make him feel on top of that. It’s addicting, much in the same way you are to him. It feels  filthy, sometimes, how much you need each other, and the way he’s thrusting up into you —  slow, insistent, deep — makes you so horny you could cry. How on earth is it gonna feel when  he’s inside? You’re not sure you could handle it, if your bark could match your bite. You wonder  if he’d be as gentle as he always try to be, if he’d fight against what he really needs in an effort  to hold back for you. You hope he won’t; you might just keep pushing until he stops.  

Adam’s just mustered up the courage to lift his head and open glazed brown eyes to look down  at you, but he’s surprised to see you already eyeing him, drinking in every reaction he gives.  His cock twitches in your hand and you giggle again, but this time it feels less … mean. You’re  all starry-eyed, cockdrunk just from touching him. He feels both objectified and deified, and it  makes him ache. 

And then your eyes lock onto his as you lean forward to give a soft kitten lick to his tip, and he  loses his grip.  

Warmth floods your sensations, thick ropes shooting across your face and your chest and your  hand accompanied by an almost guttural groan. You stroke him through it, intent on milking  everything out, little wondrous whimpers of “Oh wow” and “There’s so much…” prolonging it  more than he even thought was possible.  

By the time he’s done Adam’s hips are twitching, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath  — you’re still eyeing him like you want to eat him, but when he feels your hands leave his cock  he thinks he might be safe.  

Will he ever learn? 

“S-sweet girl, thank you, that was so — fuuuuuck. “ He watches you lean forward to lick off some of his cum that had pooled across his abdomen, tongue sliding into the divots of his abs.  He’s shaking again, and the sweet, smiley, almost dopey look you give him as you do makes  something snap in his brain.  

You don’t process that you’re moving until you’re already in the air, legs dangling as he picks  you up; you let out a loud squeal as he throws you onto the bed, the high-pitched “Adam!”  doing little more than make his still-hard cock jump again. You forget that your boyfriend Adam,  also known as the boundlessly powerful He-Man, has very little refractory period. Dangerously  little.  

His eyes are just a bit darker when he throws you down onto the bed, and you’re sure you’re  going to hear about this later ( ‘Did I hurt you?’ ‘Are you okay?’ ‘Was I being too rough?’ ), but  you don’t care. Right now, you feel like how you imagine some of the unluckier Eternia villains  do, basking in the light of the Power of Grayskull.  

“What are you going to do to me?” It would sound awful if you weren’t so obviously turned on,  watching him come to hover over you with a practically giddy smile.  

He can’t help the matching grin he sports while looming over you, hips thrusting softly to come  under your skirt and run his thick cock through your folds, head catching your clit and making  you gasp. No underwear. Dirty.  

“Whatever I fucking want to.” He breathes it into you, lips brushing yours at the same time his  cock breaches your cunt and every muscle in your body contracts to arch your back up.  Maybe it won’t fit.