bunny 🐇 👑

The morning light is filtering through the curtains when I stir awake, still half-drowned in sleep. We're spooning the way we always do now. Max curled around me from behind, his arm heavy over my waist, his hand resting just above the waistband of my pajama shorts. His breath is warm and even against the back of my neck, slow and deep. He's still asleep.

I shift slightly, pressing back against him, and I can feel him hard against my ass even through the fabric of his pants. He's always hard in the morning. The thought sends a flutter through my stomach, and I wiggle back a little more, wanting to feel it.

He stirs behind me, his breath hitching, his arm tightening around my waist. His hand slides down, slipping under my waistband, his fingers brushing over my hip, my stomach, dipping lower. I freeze, holding my breath, and then his fingers are between my legs, finding me already wet from waking up pressed against him.

"Mm," he mumbles against my hair, still mostly asleep, his fingers tracing lazy circles through my folds. "You're wet."

I arch back into his touch, my eyes falling closed. "Max…"

He wakes up more fully then, his hand becoming more purposeful, his fingers sliding through my wetness, circling my clit, making me gasp. He presses closer behind me, his hips rolling, and I can feel him grinding against my ass, sleep-drunk movements like he can't help himself.

"Want you," he breathes, his voice rough with sleep, his fingers working me faster, harder. He slips one inside me, then another, curling them, pumping them in a rhythm that has me panting within seconds. "Fuck, I want you so bad."

He's humping against me now, his cock straining against his pajama pants, rutting against my ass while his fingers drive me wild. I'm gasping, my hips bucking back against him, chasing the friction, the fullness.

"Please," he groans, his voice desperate, his movements becoming frantic. He pulls his hand out of my shorts and fumbles with my waistband, tugging my pajama shorts down my hips, then his own, shoving them down enough to free himself. I feel him hot and hard against my bare ass, and he groans, lining himself up, ready to push inside…

"Wait," I gasp, twisting in his arms, turning to face him. He's flushed, his eyes dark and hazy with sleep and arousal, his cock twitching against my stomach. "Wait, I don't, I don't wanna fuck. I wanna try something else."

He stares at me, blinking, his breath coming hard. "What?"

"I want to suck your dick," I say, the words rushing out, my cheeks burning. "I've been thinking about it. I want to try. Please?"

He groans, his head falling back against the pillow, his hand gripping my hip tight. "You're killing me," he breathes. "I'm so fucking hard right now, baby, I just want to be inside you."

"I know," I say, my hand sliding between us, wrapping around him. He's throbbing in my palm, hot and heavy, and he groans, his hips jerking forward. "But let me try this first. Please? I've been wanting to."

He looks down at me, his jaw tight, his chest heaving. For a moment I think he's going to insist, just flip me over and take what he wants, but then he exhales, his hand coming up to stroke my hair.

"Fine," he mutters, his voice strained. "But I'm not going to last long. You've got me so worked up already."

I smile, pressing a kiss to his chest, and slide down under the covers, my heart hammering. He's right there waiting for me, his cock curving up against his stomach, flushed dark and wet at the tip. I stare at it for a moment, taking in the size, the veins, the way it twitches under my gaze.

I lean down and lick experimentally, just a quick swipe of my tongue over the head, and he gasps, his stomach muscles tensing. He tastes salty, musky, warm. I do it again, slower this time, circling the tip with my tongue, and he groans, his hand finding my hair under the covers.

"Fuck," he breathes. "Your mouth..."

I try to take more of him, wrapping my lips around the head and sinking down, but I immediately feel awkward, unsure of how much suction to use, how to coordinate my hand with my mouth. I pull back, coughing slightly, embarrassed heat flooding my cheeks.

He sighs, loud and dramatic, his hand tightening in my hair. "Aw, poor thing," he coos, but there's an edge of frustration in his voice. "You're trying so hard, aren't you? Come on, it's not that complicated. I showed you what I like."

I take him in my hand again, stroking him slowly, and lean down to try again. I wrap my lips around him carefully, trying to remember, but I'm too tentative, too hesitant. I bob my head a few times, but it's clumsy, my rhythm off, and after a moment he makes a low sound in his throat. Not a groan of pleasure, but of irritation.

"That all?" he asks, his voice tight. He shifts under the covers, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at me. "You're just... fumbling around down there." He reaches down, gripping my hair a little harder than before. "Here, stick your tongue out. Flatten it. No, flatter, Jesus, like this."

He guides my head, showing me the angle, the pressure, but when he lets go I lose it again, my jaw too tense, my movements jerky and uncertain. I try to take him deeper and immediately gag, pulling back with tears springing to my eyes, coughing.

He sighs again, longer this time, his hand tightening in my hair. "You're not getting it," he mutters, almost to himself. "I keep showing you and you're just... you're not getting it."

I look up at him, my eyes watering, my cheeks burning with shame, and he stares down at me for a long moment. He’s frustrated, his jaw tight, his cock twitching against my chin. Then his expression shifts, something resigned settling over his features.

"Whatever," he mumbles, his grip on my hair becoming firmer, more purposeful. "Just, here, open your mouth. Stick your tongue out. I'll do it."

I obey immediately, my mouth open, my tongue flat against my lower lip. He guides himself between my lips, his hips lifting, and he starts to move. Not gently, not teaching anymore, just fucking. Shallow little thrusts at first, then deeper, finding his own rhythm while I struggle to keep up.

"Just stay still," he breathes, his hand holding my head in place. "Don't try to do anything. You're too stupid to do anything right now, but it's okay. Just let me use your mouth."

The words hit me like a physical blow, and yet I feel myself getting wetter, my breath coming faster through my nose. I stay still as he instructed, my hands gripping his thighs, my eyes watering as he pushes deeper, hitting the back of my throat.

"Fuck," he groans, his hips moving faster, his eyes falling closed. "Your mouth is so wet. Just, fuck, just stay there, don't move."

I do as he says, letting him use me, my jaw aching from trying to stay open wide enough, spit dripping down my chin. He's not looking at me anymore, not coaching me. He’s just fucking my mouth all sloppily, his hand gripping my hair tight, his hips lifting off the bed with each thrust.

"You're so fucking bad at this," he mutters, his voice strained, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Fucking useless. Can't even suck cock right. But you're so eager, aren't you? So desperate to try. That's something, I guess."

I whimper around him, the vibration making him gasp, and he groans, his hand tightening painfully in my hair.

"Don't make noise," he pants. "Just take it. Be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth since you can't do it yourself."

I go quiet, my eyes streaming, my whole body trembling as he uses me. He's rough now, his hips snapping up, his cock hitting the back of my throat again and again. I gag, tears spilling down my cheeks, but he doesn't stop, just groans, his head falling back, his muscles tensing.

"That's it," he breathes. "Just like that. Your poor little mouth, doesn't know what it's doing, but it's so wet and warm. Gonna cum, fuck baby…"

He groans, long and low, and then he's cumming, thick and hot, flooding my mouth. I try to swallow, I really do, but there's so much and I'm overwhelmed, struggling to keep up as he keeps thrusting through his orgasm, milking himself dry in my mouth.

"Swallow it," he pants, his voice wrecked. "Try to swallow, you stupid thing. Come on."

I try, but I'm a mess. Spit and cum dripping down my face, my throat working uselessly, some of it leaking out the corners of my lips. He collapses back against the pillows, his chest heaving, his hand still gripping my hair tight.

"Look at you," he breathes, his voice softer now, almost fond. "Covered in it. Couldn't even swallow right." He loosens his grip, his thumb wiping roughly at my chin. "Aw, poor thing. You tried so hard and you just... you couldn't get it. That's okay. We'll keep practicing."

I crawl up his body, my face burning, my jaw aching, and he pulls me into his arms without hesitation. He kisses me, messy and deep, and then pulls back, his eyes soft and warm despite everything he just said.

"You okay?" he asks, his hand stroking my hair.

I nod, burying my face in his neck, and he laughs.

"You're such a mess," he whispers. "My eager little mess. You'll get better. I promise. Just... lots more practice, okay?"

I close my eyes, smiling despite the ache in my jaw, the humiliation still warm in my chest. "Tomorrow?" I mumble against his skin.