#slow hands

It seemed to you that Arthur had a new favourite hobby. 

What would this hobby be, I hear you ask? Well, it’s simple. 

Making you cum as many times as physically possible in any given amount of time. 

Ever since he’d learned how, he was utilising this knowledge every opportunity he got. 

And, because of course the universe would give you the man who’s somehow the fastest learner in the fucking galaxy, he’d gotten really, really good at it. He’d learned all the little tricks to make you gasp and moan on his fingers, some you weren’t even aware of yourself until he showed you. He’d listen out for which speeds and pressures made you squirm the most or cum the hardest, before doubling down on them until you were gasping into the sheets, knuckles white where your hands fisted into the pillows as he fucked you through yet another orgasm. 

You allowed him to be smug for this one, the confidence (begrudgingly) a good look on him. Gone were the worries about him being selfish, replaced by an almost self-righteous ego that had him grinning whenever he looked at you, as if remembering in that fleeting moment your eyes met the many times he’d had you on the brink of ruin. His friends noticed, too. 

He was more sure of himself, less snappy in videos. The crashouts he’d become famous for occurred less and less, the sarcastic banter he favoured so much turning into genuine jokes and compliments that came as a welcome surprise to those around him. His friends, for the most part, had no idea what was causing this sudden change in behaviour (it wasn’t like Arthur was going around shouting to the world that his girlfriend was teaching him how to have sex), but they weren’t really complaining, not if it meant that their friend was happier than he’d been in years. 

Arthur himself even noticed a change. 

No longer did he shy away from physical contact with you, something he’d avoided in the first months of your relationship, the fear of progression and inadequacy nearly swallowing him whole. Now, he leaned into it - he was the first one to grab onto you early in the morning, drawing you back against his chest so he could burrow his face in the crook of your neck, arm wound tight over your stomach to hold you as close as you could get. More often than not when you were sat together on the couch, his hand would inevitably end up spread out on your thigh, rubbing small circles over the soft skin. 

In the last few weeks this gesture would, more often than not, lead to him hauling you into his lap and slipping his fingers into your cunt, working you in quick thrusts and circles on your clit until you were clawing at his shoulders as you came all over his hand. 

But Arthur found himself still…..frustrated. 

That was the only word he could think of to describe his situation. 

He wasn’t dissatisfied, that wasn’t it. He’d said it many times over that these past months with you, learning new things about himself and exploring this new world had been some of the best of his life. But there was just something that he couldn’t quite shake - a feeling, an itch, rooted deep inside his body. A restless energy, of sorts. A craving, really - but for what, he didn’t know. Yet. 

That was, until, a night out with some of his closest friends. 

It was just a little get-together to celebrate Chris’ birthday, nothing too wild or alcohol-infused. He’d had a few beers, a shot here or there when the birthday boy demanded it. Nothing outrageous. Jokes were flowing, laughter was loud, banter was falling freely - it was nice. 

Until, of course, the conversation inevitably turned to Chris’ less-than-stellar love life. Now that he was thirty, the jokes were rife with punchlines about him dying alone, or shacking up with someone younger than him now that his dating pool was that much smaller. Chris, to his credit, took it like a champ, laughing along with everyone and waving off any comments that came across as just a little too backhanded. Arthur made his fair share of jokes and jabs at his friend, ducking away from slaps and bites where appropriate. Just boys being boys. 

And, boys being boys, the agreed-upon reason for Chris’ lack of success in the art of love was this: he was a terrible fuck. What other explanation could there be, George argued vehemently, beer clutched in his hand as he gestured wildly. What other reason could he have for not being able to hold down a relationship for longer than, say, a month? 

‘You just- you don’t look like the type to go down on her to repay the favour, if you know what I’m saying. I feel like you’d just sort of be like- like, ‘no sorry, I don’t do that’’ George said through laughter, slapping his hand down on the table when Chris just shook his head, doubled over with his own laughter. 

‘I think out of all the people here, you’re like- one of the people I’d least expect to do that.’ He finished, sitting down in his chair with a triumphant air of finality that only served to set Chris off in another fit of laughter. 

‘Really, mate? Who d’you think’s the most likely, then?’ He’d asked, unable to resist rising to the bait. 

George considered this for a moment, making a show of bringing his hand to his chin, stroking in an imitation of a wizened philosopher that had the whole table sputtering with giggles. He reached out to point, waving it indecisively between his friends until it came to rest, unbelievably, on Arthur. 

‘You look like the type to enjoy that. You’ve got that, like, puppy dog aura about you that says to me that you’d just like- get lost in there or something.’ He said. Arthur’s mouth had dropped open in surprise, something akin to shock rushing through his body like a bucket of cold water had just been dumped on his head. 

‘What?” He’d spluttered, incredulous. Of course, his friends had no way of knowing that he’d never actually done that. He hadn’t told them much beside the fact that he was a bit ‘out of touch with all that stuff’, something which they’d taken to mean he was having a bit of a dry spell. As far as they were concerned, the growing flush on his cheeks was an admission of guilt at being caught out, not the result of weeks of frustration and restlessness suddenly clicking into place. 

He doesn’t remember much of the evening after that - he blames the alcohol, but it’s a lame excuse he gives to gloss over the fact that he’d spent the majority of the night after that imagining what it would be like to have his head buried between your thighs. 

He makes it home somewhere around the ridiculous hour of 2am, fumbling slightly with the keys in his hands as he attempts to stay quiet. He gets there eventually, pushing the door open and kicking off his shoes as the door clicks shut behind him. The flat is quiet, only the hum of the fridge and the muffled mumble of whatever TV show you’d put on to fall asleep filling the silence as he makes his way to your bedroom. 

He finds you exactly where he thought you’d be - curled up in bed with your hair fanning out over the pillow, mouth parted slightly in slow, even breaths as you dreamt. A fond smile quirked at the corner of his mouth as he stepped further into the bedroom, taking in your sleeping form. But, as he drew closer, something made him falter. 

You weren’t under the duvet like he’d expected, but rather on top of it, the blanket kicked down to your ankles to leave you halfway exposed. Your hair wasn’t mussed from sleep, Arthur spying a thin sheen of sweat at your hairline and over your face, the sweaty strands of your hair clinging to your face as you slept. His brows furrowed as he stepped closer, shedding his clothes as he did so, the flat suddenly unbearably hot as he drew closer to you. 

But what really knocked the breath from his lungs was the smell of you. He’d been expecting your body wash, your lotion, maybe even your shampoo. But this was decidedly not any of these. It was sharper, sweeter - a scent that he’d become increasingly more acquainted with over the past few weeks. His gaze tracked down your body, before his breath escaped him entirely as his suspicions were confirmed. 

Your hand rested just above the waistband of your panties, fingertips just dipping underneath, as if you’d fallen asleep halfway through the movement. The material of your underwear was dark with moisture, a matching shine decorating your middle and index finger. Arthur’s knees nearly buckled as he imagined what you could’ve been doing while he was away - the image of you, spread out on your shared bed, fingers working between your thighs in a way he’d come to know so well, left him feeling dizzy as his blood rushed steadily south. He wondered, selfishly, if you’d been thinking of him. 

His legs moved of his own accord, dropping the jacket he’d had clutched loosely in his hand as he crawled onto the bed between your still-spread thighs. The scent of you hit him like a blow to the face, forcing a quiet whine out of him as he lowered himself onto his stomach. The heady smell of your arousal mixed with the smell of your sweat surrounded him, evidence of your exertion shimmering on your stomach and ribs where your shirt had pushed up in your movements. He felt like he was in a trance as he took a deep breath, inhaling the heady, sweet scent of you. Your thighs twitched as he exhaled, breath fanning over the expanse of your thighs as his gaze locked on the dark spot on the gusset of your panties. 

‘Arthur?’ 

The sound of your voice broke him out of his reverie, reality slamming back into him as he realised what he was doing. Fuck, he probably looked like a creep, wedging himself between your legs while you slept, sniffing your panties- 

‘What’re you doing?” 

Your voice was soft in the early morning, rough with sleep in a way that had his cock twitching in his trousers. He watched helplessly as you stirred awake, flicking on the lamp by your bedside and filling the room with a soft golden glow that had him biting back a groan as it illuminated your features, turning you into something almost otherworldly. 

‘I- um, I’m sorry, this is really weird- I didn’t mean to. You just looked- and you were like, you smelled-’ He stammered, fighting for a plausible reason as to why he’d been caught in the position he had. 

‘Hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m not accusing you of anything. I just want to know what’s going on.’ You said, sounding unfairly put together for someone who’d just woken up. You shuffled further up the bed until you were propped up on the pillows to look down at him, one hand reaching out to comb through his hair softly. He leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. 

‘I just- I dunno. You were- were you touching yourself? Before you fell asleep?’ He asked, the desire to know suddenly burning insistently at his mind. He had to know, had to know if you’d been thinking of him as you worked yourself to the edge, as your thighs shook and your cunt clenched around where his fingers should have been. His eyes were wide as he stared at you. 

‘Oh, yeah. Couldn’t sleep, and that- that usually helps me.’ 

The casualness of your voice shocked him. He blinked a few times, processing what you’d said - you weren’t shrinking at all, no defensiveness, no flustered floundering for an explanation. Just, the truth. 

‘Were you- did you think of me? When you did it?’ He murmured, not meeting your gaze. Instead, he focused on the intricate weaving and patterns of the lace of your panties until his eyes blurred. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the way your breath hitched, muscles tensing for a moment in a gesture that told him everything. A smirk tugged at his mouth as he traced the edge of your panties with his thumbs, savouring the soft scratch of the lace against his heated fingertips. 

‘You know what? Yeah, actually- yeah, I did.’ You said, clearing your throat against the sudden dryness you found there. You weren’t sure exactly why Arthur catching you out was making you feel like you’d been caught with your hand in the cookie jar, something akin to guilt spreading low in your gut as Arthur lifted his gaze to meet yours once more. 

‘Yeah? Well, that’s funny, because I was thinking about you, too. When I was out.’ He said, keeping his voice low in the careful quiet of the early morning. Your eyebrows raised slightly, eyes sparkling in the low light as you tilted your head, sitting up properly against the pillows.

‘Yeah? Thinking about what, exactly?’ 

Arthur shifted on the bed, dragging himself up your body until he was hovering over you. Here, the smell of your arousal was more potent, the cloying scent filling the space between you until he was nearly breathless. He dipped his head down to kiss you in lieu of an answer, swallowing the small sound of surprise you made before melting into the kiss. You could taste the leftover dregs of beer and alcohol on his tongue, stinging your sleep-soft mouth as you pushed your tongue into his mouth. He accepted you gladly, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. 

‘I was thinking,’ he said, pulling away for a brief moment and smiling as you whined softly, ‘that I really, really,’ another kiss, gentler this time to placate you as you chased the press of his lips against yours, ‘want to go down on you.’ He finished, pressing a final kiss to your lips before pulling away entirely. You lay still, a mixture of lust and surprise flooding through you at your boyfriend’s words. 

‘You- what? What brought this on?’ You asked. You’d known it would come up sooner or later, but honestly, you hadn’t been expecting him to even ask about it. It wasn’t every man’s cup of tea, you’d made your peace with that (or tried to, at least). Arthur’s directness, though not unexpected anymore, still stunned you for a brief moment. You searched his face, looking for any sign of the mockery you’d found in previous partners when they’d offered - more often than not out of a sense of ‘duty’, that they inevitably neglected after approximately five minutes and they got bored of waiting for you. You swallowed thickly, finding no such reservations in Arthur’s open gaze. 

‘I dunno, I just- I just want to. George told me today that I look like the type to enjoy it, and I think- well, I’d like to see if he’s right, if it’s okay with you.’ He explained, slowly lowering himself to rest by your side. You did the same, turning onto your side to lie face to face with him. You laughed softly, flicking some hair out of your face as you replied. 

‘Of course it’s George at the scene of the crime. But no- I mean, I’d love that. I’ve thought about it quite a bit, actually. I think you’d look really pretty down there, making me feel good.’ You said, smiling at Arthur’s answering groan as he screwed his eyes shut, dragging a hand over his face. 

‘You can’t just- right. Come here.’ He said, eyes snapping open as he suddenly flipped you onto your back, throwing a leg over you to straddle you. You yelped in surprise, hands coming up to rest on his chest as Arthur leaned down to kiss you again - harder this time, teeth digging into the fat of your bottom lip. A moan bubbled up out of your chest at the burst of pain, fists balling up in the fabric of his shirt. 

Arthur pulled away suddenly, breathing fast. 

‘Teach me. Please. I want to taste you- I need to.’ His voice was breathless, already ruined as he spoke. He leaned down to brush his lips over yours, smirking as you leaned up to chase his touch. He moved slowly, dragging his lips along your jawline, leaving a trail of heat and fire as he went that set your whole body alight in the wake of the sensation. 

‘Arthur…’ you trailed off, back arching as he began kissing a line down your throat and chest, pausing only to mouth over the hardened peaks of your nipples over your sleep shirt before he carried on, nudging the fabric up with his nose to press a trail of open-mouthed kisses across your stomach and lower. 

‘Arthur, baby, it’s early- wouldn’t you rather- wait.’  You tried futilely, threading one hand into his hair in an attempt to pull him away from you. 

It soon became clear that Arthur was absolutely not going to give up without a fight. 

A growl escaped him, a wild, dark sound that rippled through you as if you’d been electrocuted. He shook his head free of your grip, kissing more insistently down your body now, baring his teeth to scrape just on the side of painful over the exposed skin. He was a man on a mission, and he’d be damned if he didn’t get to taste you right here, right now. 

‘No. ‘M not waiting. I want you. Now.’ He muttered into your skin, burrowing closer to you, breath fanning over your sensitive hipbones as his hands came up to grab at the hem of your panties. 

‘Arthur, love, I haven’t shaved or anything-’

‘I don’t fucking care- please, love. Please- want to taste you. Wanted it for so long- didn’t even realise how bad, but now- it’s all I want- all I can think about. Please.’ His voice broke as his breath caught in his throat, a sob threatening to escape him as he drew nearer to your heated core, the scent of you so intoxicating and close and you it made his mouth water. 

The earnestness in his voice, the sheer desperation - had you wetter than you’d ever care to admit, renewed slick soaking the already ruined material of your panties. Arthur gazed up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, eyelashes brushing his cheekbones as he rest his head on your hip, waiting for your answer. If you truly said no and meant it, he would back off, but he had a feeling, as you looked him over, that that wasn’t going to be the case. You turned your head to glance at the clock on the bedside table. 

2:34 AM. 

It was shaping up to be one hell of a morning. 

‘Okay, baby. Since you asked so nicely.’ You murmured your assent, and Arthur nearly wept with joy. He didn’t waste a single second, tugging your panties down and pushing your thighs apart, swallowing thickly at the sight of you before him - closer than you’d ever been before, your cunt slick and warm and inviting. 

‘Arthur, listen to me for a second, please.’ He lifted his head, tearing himself away from your cunt to level his gaze at you, blinking rapidly in the low light. 

‘Same kind of thing as with your fingers. Go slow. Don’t go all in at once - take your time, I’m not going anywhere. Focus on my clit again. Do what feels right. There’s really no ‘correct’ way to do this, so don’t worry about doing it ‘right’, or whatever. I’ll tell you what feels good. Make sense?’ You said, shifting slightly to prop yourself higher up on your pillows, spreading your legs a little more. Arthur nodded dumbly, swallowing again as his hands came to rest on your thighs. 

‘Do I just-?’ He asked, suddenly frozen with uncertainty now that he was face-to-face with the thing he’d unconsciously been craving for the better part of a month. The familiar restlessness vibrated within him now, dulled to a constant buzz as his mind raced - he had no guidebook, no previous knowledge to work off of here. This was truly uncharted territory for him. 

As if sensing his anxiety, you sat up slightly, one hand coming to grasp his chin gently as you spoke. 

‘It’s okay, Arthur. There’s nothing to worry about. Just go slow, like I said. I'm already a little worked up, but I like some warming up, it makes the actual thing feel better for me.'

'What do you mean?'

He'd never considered that you might need warming up. In everything he'd heard about going down on someone, he'd been under the impression that you'd be ready to go right away - your cunt always seemed ready with slick when he'd press his fingers gently into you, so he'd assumed it was the same. Clearly, he needed to brush up on that, too.

'Nothing major. Just like- some kisses on my thighs, a little teasing. Like, don't just dive in straight away. Make me really want it.' You explained, carding your hand reassuringly through his hair.

Arthur nodded, licking his lips anxiously. At your encouraging nod, he lowered his mouth to press a line of fluttering kisses across the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, relaxing when he heard you sigh in response.

Feeling more confident now, he started to kiss more insistently, opening his mouth to let you feel the heat of it on your most sensitive areas. He even, very carefully, let his teeth drag against the skin, smiling slightly when he heard you gasp sharply in response to the sensation.

'Yeah, that's good, baby. Keep going.' You said, and Arthur couldn't hide his pride when he heard the slight tremor in your voice. He did as you said, pressing closer to ghost his lips over your exposed cunt, watching raptly the way it clenched and fluttered. He placed a few more kisses closer to your clit, never touching it directly, marvelling at the way he could visibly see you getting wetter and wetter with every pass of his mouth.

He kept this up for a while, until you could no longer bear the fluttering feeling of his lips on you.

'Okay, baby. I'm ready- if you are.'

Arthur lifted his head to look you in the eye, checking one final time. You smiled down at him, spreading your legs in a silent gesture of agreement.

Nodding shakily, his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he lowered his head towards your cunt once more. He took a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut as he moved forwards. His tongue flattened against your cunt, pausing there for a brief moment before dragging up between your folds in one long, languid stroke. And for a moment, his mind went beautifully, blissfully blank. 

Oh. 

Arthur’s pretty sure he just found his new life purpose. 

Fuck music. Fuck YouTube. Fuck Friends From Work. 

This, right here, was what he was meant to do. He was destined to spend the rest of his life in between your thighs, lapping at your cunt and tasting you on his tongue. 

‘Jesus- Jesus fucking Christ- oh my God.’ He moaned into your cunt, pulling away just a fraction to rest his head on your pelvis to calm his racing heart. The taste of your slick lingered on his tongue, the tip darting out to trace around his lips, determined not to waste a single drop of what you were giving him. 

Your brows furrowed as you watched take slow, measured breaths. Despite yourself, anxiety began to rise within you the longer he stayed silent. Did you taste bad? Was he not ready for this? Maybe you’d pushed him too far too fast, maybe he was in over his head. 

‘Arthur, baby- you don’t have to if you don’t want to, or if you’re not ready.’ You said, starting to sit up to pull away completely. 

The force with which Arthur’s hands landed on your thighs ripped a surprised moan from your throat as the pads of his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs. 

‘No! No- please, don’t move. ’S just- fuck, oh my God.’ He breathed, his head spinning as he realised his gaze to look at you. Your lip was caught between your teeth in concern as you peered down at him, eyes dark with worry. 

‘What’s up?’ Your voice was gentle, sensing that he was in a vulnerable state right now. You knew that this was an entirely new area for him - he’d never breached this before. 

A part of you was preening, twirling and skipping gleefully at the idea of you being the first Arthur’s ever tasted, your heart clenching at the trust he gave over so easily to you. You felt nothing short of honoured that he was able to express himself so readily, so easily able to muster up the courage to just ask. Even if that did mean he was (lovingly) pestering you to teach him how to go down on you at stupid-o-clock in the morning. Like you’d said before, you’d do this a thousand times over if it meant you got to have him at the end of the day. 

‘I don’t know- it’s just- a lot.’ He replied, voice strained as his eyes squeezed shut. You hummed in agreement, carding your fingers gently through his hair as he tried to control his breathing. 

‘It’s alright, my love. Take your time. If you want to stop, let me know, okay?’ 

He nodded, taking deep, slow breaths, hands squeezing irregularly at your thighs to try to dispel some of the nervous energy he was feeling. 

‘No, that’s not- that’s not it. It’s- you taste- so good.’ 

The last two words weren’t so much as spoken as they were whispered, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear it, keeping the admission selfishly to himself to cherish and protect for the rest of his life. 

A hot bolt of heat ricocheted through you, your cunt clenching around nothing as the soft words reached your ears. Your lips parted in a soft breath, somehow yet again left speechless by the tentative honesty and devotion of your boyfriend. 

‘Yeah? It’s good?’ You murmured. The lilt in your tone, edging on the side of condescension, had Arthur whining softly, lifting his head to look at you. You didn’t miss the slight movement of his hips against the mattress in response. 

In the past few weeks, you’d also learned another fact about him - he was a crier. He didn’t even realise he was doing it most of the time, so lost in the pleasure you were giving him that he didn’t notice it had happened until he opened his eyes, or you brought a hand up to wipe at his cheeks, cooing softly. Now was no different as he looked up at you - his lashes were already starting to stick together with tears, his waterline glistening with those as yet unshed. 

He nodded slowly, gaze dropping back down to your cunt. You followed his movements as he shifted a hand to drag the pad of his thumb over your clit, causing a small gasp to escape you at the contact. He watched as your cunt fluttered, clenching and unclenching around the slight sensation. 

‘Yeah, ’s good. Can I- try again?’ 

‘Of course, baby. Slow, remember? It’s still your first time.’ 

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Arthur nodded as he lowered his head to your cunt once more. He repeated his earlier motion, flattening his tongue against you and licking upwards in one smooth motion. This time, the taste of you came as a welcome surprise, your slick flooding onto his tongue. A broken moan vibrated through you as he started to set a steady rhythm, dragging his tongue up and down the length of you, pausing briefly at your clit on every upstroke, just to see you squirm beneath him. 

‘Good, that’s good, keep going.’ Your praise spurred him on as he complied, starting to move his head faster up and down now, his tongue diving deeper between your folds, teasing at the edge of your hole in a way that had your legs beginning to shake on either side of his head. Sure, you’d gotten objectively better head, but there was something about the careful, measured way Arthur moved his head between your thighs that had you trembling. 

It was good, sure, but you couldn’t help but want more. His desperation must have rubbed off on you, because soon your hips were moving of their own accord despite your best efforts, grinding slowly in time with the drag of his tongue up and down the seam of your cunt. 

‘Arthur, baby- can I-?’ You managed to say, tugging gently where your hand was still fisted in his hair to get his attention. He paused, gaze flicking up to meet yours. You saw a flash of worry light up the soft brown, his mouth beginning to pull away from you as old anxiety began to set in. 

‘It’s okay, you’re doing so well, baby. Just- let me guide you, yeah? Keep doing what you’re doing, I’ll help you, okay?’ 

‘Mhm- okay.’ 

Sliding your other hand into his hair, you began to set a slow rhythm, moving his head in time with the thrusts of your hips so his nose brushed up against your clit as your hips moved downwards, causing soft moans to fall from your lips as the pleasure melted into something hot that simmered low in your gut, spreading down to your core until your clit was throbbing in time with your heartbeat. 

Arthur’s eyes fluttered shut as you moved his head, content to lose himself entirely in the taste and heat of you. His tongue slid smoothly along your cunt, dipping into your leaking hole every now and then to draw out some more of your slick, soft moans escaping him at the slightly sharp taste that spread across his tongue. He felt as if he was in a dream - your thighs wrapped close around his head and your hands in his hair, using him to make yourself feel good. 

‘Fuck- doing so well, baby. Think you’re ready for more?’ You asked, voice breaking slightly as pleasure crawled its way up your spine, making your back arch into his face as he let out a moan, the vibrations going straight to your clit. Taking that as a yes, you started to move his head faster now, encouraging him to match your speed. Almost immediately, he let out a loud moan, shifting closer on the bed to stuff his face between your thighs, drool starting to drip out of the sides of his mouth as he licked into you faster now, fucking the tip of his tongue in and out of your steadily leaking hole in a rhythm that had you gasping. 

His messy brown curls exploded over where your fingers were clutched tight in his hair, a flush similar to yours decorating his cheeks as you ground your cunt forwards in smooth rolls of your hips. His ringed hands clutched at your thighs, pulling you as close as you could possibly get to him as his control began to steadily unravel with every measured movement of his tongue against your soaked folds. 

‘Focus up here, baby. Put your mouth around it- yeah, like that.’ You instructed, breaking off in a loud groan as Arthur’s lips sealed around your clit, the sudden change in pressure making your eyes roll back into your head as he traced his tongue over it, searching the sensitive flesh for the pattern that had you shaking. 

‘Alt- alternate between this and- and what you were doing before- Jesus, Arthur.’ Your head knocked heavily back against the pillows as your breath came in short bursts. 

Arthur made a noise of agreement, unwilling to pull away from you for even a second, lest he lose any time or opportunity to taste you. He ate you out like a man possessed, messy as anything - his lips shone with your slick when he pulled back for breath, barely giving himself time to fill his lungs before he was diving back down between your legs, sucking your clit into his mouth with an obscene pop. 

His head bobbed up and down between your legs as if he was sucking a real cock, your clit slipping in and out of his warm mouth as he did as you said, switching between delicious pressure on your sensitive clit and teasing his tongue around your hole. He was like a man possessed, letting out guttural grunts and groans at the taste of you, your thighs clutched close to him in a grip that was sure to leave bruises. Some small part of you hoped it would. 

The soft sounds of his mouth on you filled the room, your whole world narrowing to the feel of him between your legs, licking and sucking at your cunt like it was the only thing he was put on this Earth to do. Pleasure rolled through you in steady waves, sighs and moans falling from your lips, your eyes slipping shut as you lost yourself in the haze of Arthur’s tongue. 

Just as you were getting comfortable, thighs twitching together around his head as you began to climb the peak to your orgasm, Arthur suddenly detached from you with what you could only describe as a frustrated huff. 

Your eyes flew open, scanning his face at once for any indication of discomfort. 

‘Why’s it- am I doing it wrong?’ He asked, pouting slightly in a way that was far too cute to belong to a grown man. You tilted your head, brows furrowed. Your cunt, now shiny and dripping with a mixture of your own arousal and Arthur’s spit, continued to pulse needily in time with your heartbeat. You tried your best to ignore it for the time being as you cleared your throat. 

‘What do you mean? You were doing perfectly.’ You replied. Arthur’s frown deepened as he repositioned himself between your legs, propping himself up on his elbows. 

’’S just, it’s taking longer than normal to make you- y’know….’ He said, gesturing vaguely. You blinked a few times, a slow smile spreading across your face as you realised what his issue was. Arthur, sweet, loving Arthur, was worried that he wasn’t going to make you come. You supposed it was only fair to have that assumption - he only had the way you reacted from his fingers to go off of, and that had always made you cum quicker than oral. In his mind, he was the problem. You scratched his scalp lightly where your fingers were still tangled in his curls, an attempt to reassure him. 

‘Oh, baby, it’s okay. You’re not doing anything wrong, I promise. It’s just- sometimes it takes me a little longer to get there. It’s gonna be different to when you did it with your fingers, but I promise you, it feels really good.’ 

‘Yeah, but- are you sure? I’m not doing it wrong or anything?’ He replied, glancing down at your cunt as if it had personally offended him. All of the earlier confidence he’d felt had vanished, replaced by a gnawing anxiety that was threatening to eat him whole. 

‘Arthur, I already told you, there’s no wrong way to do it. You just have to be patient. I know you want to make me come, but you have to work for it, okay?’ You told him, smiling at the exasperated breath that escaped him. 

‘Come on, baby. Try again.’ 

Shifting your hips slightly, you positioned yourself in front of him once more. Unable to stop himself, his gaze travelled down to your cunt, still as wet and warm and inviting as before. 

‘You can- you can move me more, if that helps. Like- use me.’ He muttered, the words almost muffled as he pressed an apologetic kiss to your thighs. Your grip tightened in his hair, pulling his head back up so he could look you in the eye - you weren’t having that, if he wanted something, he had to tell you directly. 

‘What was that?’ 

Arthur’s eyes went wide, frozen like a deer in the headlights. His mouth opened and closed uselessly as he debated whether or not to repeat himself. Normally, he would have no qualms about telling you what he wanted, but somehow speaking his mind seemed infinitely more daunting when he was as close to you as he was now. 

‘I- uh, said you can- you can use me more, if you want.’ 

His voice was strained as he averted your gaze. Despite his insistence and determination to try new things, he was, deep down, scared. Scared that you would one day tire of his inexperience, of his fumbling hands and insecure mouth, or that he would scare you away with just how much he wanted you. Because, in all honesty, sometimes it scared him. 

With every new experience, he felt as if you were stripping back the layers of him, getting closer and closer to revealing what lay at his centre, exposing the man beneath the tattoos and the jokes. He wasn’t sure even he knew who that was. But, as he was steadily finding out, he was willing to take the risk to find out, if you were by his side. 

You let out a gentle hum, loosening your hold in Arthur’s hair and letting his head fall back down between your legs. His mouth opened instinctively, chasing the taste of you as his tongue resumed its movements. 

‘Hm? My pretty boy wants me to use him? ’S that right?’ 

The barely masked condescension in your tone had his cock throbbing where it was pinned between the weight of his body and the mattress, his blood rushing through his body and making his head spin as he breathed in the scent of you beneath him. He nodded jerkily, using the movement to lower his head to dip his tongue inside you, watching in awe as you let out a gasp, cunt clenching around the sudden intrusion. Arthur himself let out a loud moan as he felt your other hand slide into his hair, gripping him firmly as you began to roll your hips forward once more. 

His eyelids fluttered as you began to increase your speed, effectively grinding his face against your dripping cunt. Honestly, Arthur was right where he wanted to be right now. The world could’ve ended for all he cared, not when you were panting and soaked right before him, desperately fucking yourself on his tongue to make yourself come in the small hours of the early morning. 

He opened his mouth wider, nearly covering your entire cunt as he messily ate you out, using the combination of his spit and your slick to smooth his movements against your aching clit - wrapping his lips around it and sucking hard enough to make you keen, your back arching into the contact. The sounds he was making was nothing short of obscene, his lips smacking together and mixing with the twin sounds of your moans and whines as you felt that familiar heat spread in your lower gut for the second time tonight. 

It was messy, and it was perfect - in all honesty, his lack of experience and technique was more than made up for with the sheer hunger with which he worked you over, his mouth and face a mess of spit and arousal as he sucked your clit into his mouth over and over again.

‘God, Arthur- don’t stop, please.’ You gasped out, your knuckles nearly white where they were fisted in his hair, probably pulling a little too hard, but he didn’t seem to notice or care as he hummed in agreement, the vibration shooting a bolt of pleasure directly through you and making your eyes roll back into your head. You were practically riding his face at this point - he’d gone limp in your grip, his eyes completely shut now as he gave himself over to you entirely, his mouth and tongue working tirelessly as you ground your hips forwards. 

Your whole body felt as if it was on fire as you drew close rand closer to your orgasm, every drag of Arthurs hot tongue over your cunt drawing a desperate moan out of you, every nerve in your body alight with heady pleasure as he sucked your clit harshly, some of his own desperation bleeding through. Your thighs were wet, smeared with arousal and spit, the sticky heat of your cunt grinding against Arthur’s mouth nearly too much for you to bear. 

The coarse hair of his upper lip ground against your clit with every movement of his jaw, the rough contact sending sparks scattering through your, stars popping behind your eyes as you screwed them shut, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. 

‘Fuck- Arthur, right there- don’t stop.’ 

Arthur doesn’t think he’d be able to stop now even if you paid him. 

He was nothing short of addicted to you - the musky smell of your arousal mixing with the sweet taste of you as you grew wetter and wetter creating an intoxicating cocktail that had Arthur feeling more drunk than any alcohol he’d ever had. He couldn’t get enough of you - he drove forward, pressing as close as he could possibly get to you to better fuck his tongue into you, dragging the muscle along your silky walls and groaning as you clenched around him. He breathed you in, filling every sense and pore with you, you, you until he was breathless. 

He knew he probably looked ridiculous right now - feasting on you like you were his last meal, his hair wild and the lower half of his face dripping with your slick, but he really couldn’t find it in himself to care, not when you were letting out such pretty moans and whines as you ground against him, your hips moving on instinct as you chased your impending orgasm. 

Heat licked up your spine as you drew closer and closer, pleasure humming through you under the relentless onslaught of Arthur’s mouth. Pathetic moans and whines escaped you regularly now, increasing in pitch with every thrust of your hips. Outside, the city was just beginning to stir to life, the last dregs of the night slipping away with each slide of your cunt over your boyfriend’s tongue. 

A thin sheen of sweat coated your whole body, running in rivulets down the side of your face and splashing onto your collarbones, staining the material of your sleep top that was pushed up to tuck underneath your tits. Your nipples were peaked from the cool air of your bedroom, the added sensation of the sensitive peaks rubbing against the material of your shirt making you gasp, throat raw with a scream that pulled its way from your throat as you teetered right on the edge. 

‘Fuck, baby, gonna cum- please, don’t stop- so close, Arthur- so good for me.’ 

Your voice was raw and gravelly, mouth dry as you ground your hips faster now, bucking wildly against Arthur’s mouth as your legs started to buzz - mind-numbing pleasure making its way up your body as your orgasm slowly approached its peak. Your stomach muscles flexed wildly, your breath coming in short pants as you held Arthur flush to your cunt. His tongue flicked over your clit just right, licking steadily over the throbbing flesh and sucking messily in a pattern that was somehow the exact combination to your absolute ruin. 

‘Fuck-’ 

The curse burst out of you as your legs locked around Arthur’s head, pressing him impossibly close to you as your orgasm barrelled into you. He worked you steadily throughout it, sucking your clit into his mouth and drawing tight circles around it with the tip of his tongue, tracing over the sensitive flesh until your thighs trembled on either side of his head. Hot, stifling pleasure burst through you, ecstasy coursing through your every nerve. Warmth filled your body, pulse rabbiting as your heart pounded in your chest, cunt throbbing and fluttering wildly as you came. 

Arthur didn’t let up, lapping at your cunt, drinking down your slick like it was water in the desert. The taste of your come on his tongue ripped a loud groan from him as he was immediately addicted to the taste. He knew then that George had been right. 

He waited until your breath slowly began to even out, the pressure of your thighs against his ears lessening slightly as your muscles relaxed, before he began to slow down, unwilling to part from you just yet. 

‘Arthur, love-’ You panted, tugging gently on his hair in an attempt to move him away from you, the pleasure tipping over into the faint, painful buzz of overstimulation. You would’ve laughed at the stubborn noise that Arthur made had you not been so out of breath. 

‘No, please- let me- let me clean you up.’ He said into your cunt, gripping your legs somehow tighter. 

‘Baby, I’m sensitive-’ 

‘Please, I’ll be quick- I just- a little more, please.’ 

An exasperated (yet fond, Arthur noticed) sigh loosed itself from your chest, and you found yourself nodding, probably against your best interest. 

‘Okay, go on.’ 

Arthur wasted no time in diving back in, his tongue darting across your folds and hole, collecting every drop of your cum that he could, slurping obscenely at your cunt as he cleaned you out. You ignored the growing pain-pleasure of the overstimulation, watching with a mixture of arousal and awe as Arthur dragged his tongue across your inner thighs, moaning softly at the taste of your slick and sweat. You let him have his fill of you until he eventually pulled back with a heavy breath, resting his forehead against your lower stomach as he shifted up the bed slightly. 

‘Happy?’ You asked, reaching carefully over to the side of the bed to grab some tissues. He accepted them gratefully, wiping down his mouth and chin before tossing the tissues in the bin. He heard a faint rustle behind him as you shuffled over to your wardrobe, pulling out a clean pair of panties and a new shirt, quickly changing before lying back down on the bed, pointedly avoiding the wet spot you’d left in the sheets. 

‘Very. Thank you.’ He said. You smiled, pulling him up so you could lie face-to-face again, laughing softly at the mess you’d made of his hair. It hung in irregular clumps over his eyes, which he brushed away carelessly as he settled into bed beside you. Cleanup could happen another time - right now all he wanted was to be close to you. 

‘That’s good, then. So, was George right?” 

Arthur laughed derisively, rolling his eyes. 

‘Yeah, he was. Course he was. Bastard.’ He bit out, making a face. You laughed, lifting your head so Arthur could slide an arm beneath it as he pulled you close, revelling in the solid, soft weight of your body against him. 

‘I wouldn’t be too hard on him, baby. You enjoyed yourself, no?’ 

Enjoyed was an understatement, Arthur thought. 

‘No, of course I did. I just hate that he’s right.’ 

You shook your head fondly, settling into Arthur’s embrace as sleep tugged at your eyelids. A glance at the clock told you it was now 3:55 AM - just enough time to squeee in a few more hours of sleep before the waking world demanded your attention yet again. 

‘Might have to test it again, though. Just to be sure.’ Arthur mumbled into your hair, almost shy now. You raised your eyebrows, rating your neck to look at him. A mischievous sparkle glinted in his eyes in the low light of your bedroom. 

‘Hm, sure. Well, you know all you have to do is ask, baby.’ 

Arthur’s answering smile was the last thing you remember seeing before sleep overtook you, gentle and cheeky and so, so lovable.