#blurbs!

your fingertips graze the soft cotton of alex's t-shirt before clutching at his shoulders in a vice grip, the erratic drumming of your heart visible against your bare chest. your knees dig painfully into the rough cushion of the battered recliner as you hover above his hips, your nerves holding you at a standstill.

"it won't bite you," alex chuckles. "i promise."

he sets down the beer in hand to give your thighs a comforting massage, smoothing away the arising gooseflesh on your delicate skin. his warm lips press a large, wet kiss to your flushed cheek before burying his head in your neck to stamp more kisses along your neck and shoulders. the smacking sound of his soft lips against your skin echoes through your trailer as his goatee's coarse and ticklish hairs glide along your skin. your sheepish giggles make his kisses more needy, your skin glistening from the damp kisses.

"what do i do...?" you ask, your tone pitchy with uncertainty as you nervously play with the chain around his neck.

"sit," he murmurs into your neck before facing you again. "you're my brave girl, yeah? you can do it."

you swallow a lump in your throat before slowly dipping your hips downward, drilling your nails into the strong muscles of alex's shoulders as the tip of his cock enters your core. your legs quiver as the rest of your body remains frozen, your dewy eyes flickering to alex for your following instructions.

"all the way. c'mon, you got it."

you moan as you sink further, your toes curling in bliss and discomfort as he widens your tight walls, a delightfully painful burn sparking from the stretch. when you're fully seated, alex grabs the cowboy hat from the end table, placing it onto your head.

"does that feel good, pretty girl? you feel full?"

you nod as your walls clasp and release his cock needily, the hot sensation of your slick running down every inch of him.

"i wish you could see how pretty you look," his lips smash onto yours wildly in a tongue-drunk, toothy assault on your mouth. His uncoordinated tongue laps up the tart taste of lemonade on your tongue, a low growl rumbling out of his throat. you whine as he drinks in your noises, moving your hands from his shoulders to hold on to your hat, the sheer force of the kiss powerful enough to knock it off your head. alex pulls away with erratic pants; his redding lips curving into a shy smile. almost as if he's embarrassed by his indulgence of you.

"ready to be my cowgirl?"

you nod more confidently this time, your chest fuzzing as you stare into his love-drunk gaze. "wanna make you feel good, al."

"yeah?" his thumb flicks at your clit, and your hips spasm in delight. "such a sweet girl i have. taking good care of her cowboy."

he removes his thumb to place his large hands on either side of your hips, "up."

you raise your hips upward at the same pace you sunk onto him, allowing your walls to graze every thick, warm inch of him, a soft moan leaving your plump lips. alex hisses as you rise to the tip of his cock, your cunt closing in on his already leaking tip.

"good,” his hands move from your hips to cup the soft flesh of your ass, rubbing the skin smoothly. "down."

you sink once more, and your eyes shut, the ache between your legs now soothed by the overwhelming feeling of him again, driving your brain to lustful cloudiness. you allow your hips to think for you and continue bringing your hips up and down as alex taught you, moving in a steady, delicious rhythm, his cock massaging your wet, aching walls.

"that’s it,” alex coos, giving your ass an encouraging smack. "atta girl. i knew you could do it—fuck, you’re so tight. i want you to go faster. can you do that for me, pretty one?”

you don’t need him to tell you twice. you steady yourself with both of your hands at the top of the recliner, bringing your hips up and down faster, moaning as the tip of his cock repeatedly slams at your g-spot.

"l-like this? i-is this good?" you mewl.

"so good, princess. you're a pro already."

he keeps one hand on your ass while another fondles your breasts, pinching and twisting your nipples until his mouth eventually surrounds the bouncy flesh, sucking sloppily. alex meets you halfway with a few thrusts of his own, groaning around the soft skin of your breasts as you sync in a harmonious rhythm. you feel the delightful twitching of his cock and the boiling heat of your orgasm pooling in your belly, your body preparing to spasm in orgasmic bliss. you tug at his hair as your walls shut around him tightly, your loud moan bouncing off the walls of the small trailer.

alex follows in your tracks, spilling into you with a powerful thrust while biting down on your nipple, releasing the bud with a soft “pop!” he guides you up and down his leaking cock lazily, his warm cum dribbling out of you in cloudy, milky streams. ss you dip your head in alex’s sweaty neck, the warmth of your insides wastes no time radiating your whole body. your eyes wrestle between consciousness and sleep, the soft murmuring of alex’s praises becoming more unintelligible as you slip into your sleepy haze.

He was in the kitchen, doctoring two mugs of coffee. He glanced up when he heard you enter, then did a double take. His hand was still hovering one of the mugs, and he was dripping milk on the counter. You glanced down at the hoodie you were wearing for the first time. It was one of Mat’s team-issued ones, his number on your chest. Your relationship was still pretty new; you didn’t think Mat had ever seen you in his clothes before.

You shoved your hands in the hoodie pocket and cleared your throat, suddenly self-conscious. Mat jerked, realizing he was making a mess. “Shit,” he whispered. He spun around, searching for a paper towel. “I, uh, figured we could order breakfast,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at you as he cleaned up after himself. His eyes lingered on the white 13 on the hoodie. “I don’t think I have any food,” he admitted.

Mat offered you one of the coffee mugs, and that was the end of it. For a while.

You started collecting more of Mat’s clothes over the months, slowly, and mostly accidentally. One of his T-shirts, because he’d left it buried between your couch cushions. A pair of his sweats, because you’d been cold (again) at his apartment and they were comfier than any of your own. An old Thunderbirds hoodie that you snuck out of his closet before a long road trip because it smelled like him.

Mat was over at your apartment. You were leaving for a bye week vacation in the morning, and you were pretty much out of clean laundry. Mat was sprawled across your couch, complaining. You were only half listening.

“The equipment staff is going to kill me,” he was saying. You hummed, busy pulling clothes out of the dryer. “I keep losing all my team gear, I think I’m leaving it in hotels or something.” You distantly heard Mat roll off your couch, then pad his way over to you. He rested his chin on top of your head. “Is that my hoodie?” he asked.

You had just hung up one of his Isles hoodies, bright blue and obvious among the rest of your clothes. “Uh.”

“Now I know where half my closet went, at least,” Mat mused.

“Sorry?” Mat was pinning you against the dryer, but you twisted around as best you could.

Mat was smirking. “Nah, I like seeing you in my clothes,” he said. Fucker. His grin sharpened. “You know what I like seeing better, though?” You groaned, but Mat kept talking over you. “Out of my clothes.”