#foreignbrunette

It’s always the nerves.

They make him drum his fingers on any available surface. It’s another tick on the long list of ticks Donnie has, only he’s more aware of this one that the rest.

You think it’s cute though, cause he’s doing it right against the sides of your hips while you lean down to kiss him. Your between those long legs, as he sits at the edge of the bed.

Caught between throwing you on it or against him.

Donnie can be nervous but it usually melts away into the task at hand when he’s in it long enough. So it’s an interesting change of pace when he starts feeling those nervous waves crashing within you.

Because when he opts for gently ushering you onto the bed with him, lips somewhere south of your stomach, he feels the muscles in your stomach taut and tense. He looks up to see your eyes fixed on the ceiling, chest rising and falling in even waves of nerves and pleasure.

You feel him crawl up, that sweet smile melting your butterflies.

“Are you okay? With this?” He leans in and presses his lips gently to your own. It take you a few seconds to reset your brain, hands running up those hard plates that make up his torso. You feel so minuscule beneath him but god does it make you wetter than you could imagine. Something slips beneath you, a hand. Donnie runs his palm the length of your rear and the back of one thigh. He keeps most of his weight on his side but with every intention of sticking closest to you.

The question lingers, floats above you and while you’re nervous to high end, you nod to him.

“I’m very okay with this” You palm his cheek, the texture still so bizarre yet comforting to you.

Somewhere between clothes being taken off and those lips of his again going south of your navel, you know that there’s going to a moment where you forget your own name.

Donnie presses his lips to your core, instantly hooked with the warmth, the taste of you and how you spread your legs unprompted for him. He runs the length of his tongue so softly and slowly that it’s more of a tease than a relief. You bite your lips, a small huff of hair leaving you. You chance a look below and it’s burned forever in your brain, the gentle grip he has on your thighs, how he laps gently but firmly, catching your sensitive nub in every upward flick of his tongue.

His eyes are closed when he delves his tongue a little deeper into you. There’s a second where you catch him rut against the mattress and groan that vibrates against your core. It’s enough to make your curl your toes and let out a shaky breath.

But you want more of him, want him closer and hopefully deeper.

Ten shades of red flash on your skin when he lies down, beckons you closer towards him.

“I think it’s better like this, so it doesn’t hurt” Of course he read up, of course he’s prepared.

Of course your hideously wet and embarrassed and just about ready to combust.

You climb on top of him, a hand is firm at your waist while the other looks for some lube. Wanting to see that look flash again on his features you tentatively grind against his cock and it makes him hiss and makes you moan. You like the way his eyes flutter, a slight stutter of his hips wanting to feel more of that and is the lube necessary? With how wet you are?

Yes it is because regardless of how generous he is with coating himself and you, when you lift enough to start your descent, the stretch and burn pulls a whine out of you that’s more pain than pleasure.

“Slow, go slow, I’m not in a hurry” He whispers, hands rubbing reassuring circles on you. He grips his cock, runs it against your clit to distract from the discomfort, you lean down and kiss him halfway between a moan and his name.

He pushes a little.

You grunt into his mouth.

He lifts his hips ever so much.

Your too enraptured by the feeling.

When Donnie slides in the rest of the way, when you sit atop him feeling nothing but heat inside of you. The two of you moan, just as you hold onto his shoulders and just as he grips your rear. Your eyes are closed and your mouth hangs open in that first initial moment where you rock against him. His hands slide back to your waist and he holds it tight, fearful it hurts too much.

“Does it hurt? Tell me to stop if it hurts” It’s breathy, gutted between how tightly your wrap around him but not wanting to hurt you. You shake your head, that dull ache sliding into pleasure.

When you move against him more, breasts presses against his chest in all their soft glory, Donnie has to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek. He feels the way you lift off of his cock just enough to settle back down and grip him tighter.

His hands once again fly back to your rear.

“F-uck” He breaths out as your shyness filters out and your moans pick up. He’s so deep, so perfectly buried inside and hot and wet. You chance another look at him, half lidded brown orbs absolutely locked onto where you’re both connected, you lean a little further back give him more room to admire. Your hands find his thighs behind you and you dig into the hard tone muscles there. “Christ just- you’re so beautiful” He’s lost in it, are you beautiful? Is his cock disappearing inside of you beautiful? All of the above?

All of the above.

He lets you dictate the pace, not making any moves in speeding you up. You’re fully in control and something about that makes you feel like the hottest thing on this earth.

When you feel his thumb on your clit you howl, the feeling so deliciously good you feel like you’ll pass out from it. He runs circles, every intention of lending a literal hand to your release. Donnie is stuck in a lip of calling you beautiful, his pretty girl, that he’s all yours.

That he wants you to cum all over his cock.

It’s so much, so over stimulating that when you begin to tighten around him and feel that zig zag of rapturous emotions, your mouth can’t catch up with words.

It’s near perfect insync when you both cum, maybe by a few seconds because you feel something warm shooting into you just as you peak. That only helps to push you further down that glorious feeling. Your voice somehow returns because you hear yourself all of a sudden moaning his name in wanton desire as he lifts his hips enough to bury himself inside of you and empty all he can give into you.

In a chorus of lungs trying to settle, he slips out of you gently but keeps you on him.

There’s no intention to move and honestly you’re glad.