Page 87 of Not Dating Material

He whines. “Say more stuff like that.”

“Like what? Like how sexy you look while I finger you open for me? Or how mad you’re driving me wanting to be inside you?”

Molly’s head falls back, painted ribs expanding and contracting rapidly with his breaths. Even covered in paint, I admire the way his light muscles ripple every time I pass over his prostate, the way his abs clench and release when I work a second finger into his hole. He opens for me beautifully, willingly, so ready to be filled.

I shouldn’t be as in awe of him as I am, so I put it down to the horniness overriding my ability to brain properly.

His ass grips my fingers tight, and though I know I should probably give him another one, I’m dying to sink inside his body, to feel what it’s like to own Molly’s body.

“Please fuck me,” he begs.

I widen my fingers, making sure he’s as stretched as I can get him. “Are you ready?”

“I don’t care.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You won’t. It’ll feel good. So good.”

I snort but pull my fingers out anyway and slick up my cock. “If it hurts, you need to tell me to stop.”

He smiles wickedly up at me. “I will. Promise. Now, give me what I want.”

I chuckle and position myself over him, the sweat on his thighs immediately smearing paint over mine. “I hope you’re ready,” I say, pressing my tip to his hole. It’s a tight fit as I push forward, and Molly’s breathing catches for a moment before returning to normal, but he doesn’t tell me to stop.

His hole stretches deliciously around me, yielding to the intrusion, and I take it slowly to make sure there are no issues with the condom or my piercings, but once Molly’s good and relaxed, that won’t be necessary anymore.

“Ohh …” He breathes. “Y-your piercings …” His back arches briefly off the canvas. “Wow. Umm. They’re …”

My hips meet his ass as he’s rambling. He’s stretched perfectly around me, sucking my cock in nice and deep, the warm pressure like the most cosmically incredible hug. I have to take a minute to make sure I’m not going to set off too soon.

“I’m never, ever having sex with someone who’s not pierced again,” he says, cupping my face. “Are you okay? They don’t hurt?”

I chuckle. “They’re fully healed. As long as you don’t go tearing them out, they just make everything more sensitive.”

His legs wrap around me, pulling me down closer. “Then what are you waiting for? Fuck me.”

I give a slight thrust, loving the way he shivers under me, and before I do any more, I duck my head and drag him into a kiss. My mouth melts into his as I thrust harder this time, testing the movements, testing what he can take, and I build up the pace, gradually getting faster, getting harder, deeper.

My forearms are cramping under my weight, but I ignore them, knees digging into the floor as I drive in and out of Molly’s body. He’s clutching me close, paint slick between our torsos, and I have a brief moment of picturing dragging him to the shower to wash my work back off again when his mouth breaks from mine.

“My cock, please. Please touch me.”

I shift my weight to one side and reach between us with my free hand. He’s leaking everywhere, and I love the feel of his stiff, slick cock slotting in my hand. Like it was made to be there. Made just for me.

“You gonna come?” I breathe against his mouth. “Come while you’re being split open by my cock?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Make me come, Seven.” His thighs twitch. “I need it, please, I need it.”

His begging does it for me. Molly might talk about men playing games all the time, but he’s not one of them. He wears his emotions and wants right out there on his sleeve, and it both stokes my curiosity and makes me terrified of him. I find it hard to believe someone could be this good and pure, but he’s done nothing for me to think otherwise.

My dick is getting sensitive, racing with more pleasure than I’ve felt in too long. The piercings are tugging gently, pressing against my shaft in the way that makes my incoming orgasm crackle. I can already feel it’s going to be a big one, and I’m aching for it. Wanting release like I’ve never wanted anything while at the same time desperate to hold on to how this feels for as long as humanly possible.

He tugs my mouth back to his as he stiffens in my hold. Molly’s mouth claims me as he releases, cock pulsing in my hand as I stroke him through his orgasm. When he’s finished, I straighten, grip his hips, and don’t hold back.

His hooded eyes, the mess of paint over his skin, the puddle of cum splashed across his abs … he’s an erotic artwork for my eyes only, and I never thought a moment could be made for me and me alone until this moment right here.

“You look so beautiful,” I grit out. “Feel so good. I wanna come. Wanna fill your ass. Press my cum so deep inside you until I’ve painted you inside and out.”

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