Page 10 of Soft Flannel Hank

“Fuck,” he said, pressing his forehead into the space between her breasts. She was naked from the waist down but still wearing her hoodie. What had her cousin called that? Winnie the Pooh-ing?

“Condoms. I don’t have any condoms,” he said, a desperate edge to his voice.

“Backpack,” Esther replied, leaving him briefly to fetch it.

The zipper sounded so loud in the silent room. She pressed a condom into his hand and stood between his knees.

But the storm had quieted. She could see his insecurity start to get the best of him again as he held the foil packet pinched between two fingers but made no move to open it. She grabbed his other hand and placed it against her soaking folds.

Hank groaned, dropping his chin to his chest. He slid a single, thick finger back and forth through her slick heat. Esther gasped. He lifted his gaze, looking deep into her eyes, as he slowly pressed that finger into her body.

“I just don’t want you to think—” he trailed off, his finger slipping in and out of her in a torturously slow rhythm that had her writhing where she stood.

“What?” Esther panted. “Don’t want me to think what?”

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m only interested in this.”

“The only thing I think, Hank, is that you might want to fuck me as badly as I want to fuck you.”

He groaned again, that thunderous sound reverberating from his broad chest and filling the quiet space around them. Esther whimpered as he removed his finger from her body. She heard the foil tear, then the slippery sound that could only be Hank rolling the condom down his length.

Esther grabbed the lever on the side of the chair and pushed, engaging the footrest and reclining the backrest. Hank settled back, still fully clothed, the sleeves of his shirt pushed up his forearms, his jeans open with his cock out and straining upward, the condom’s lubrication shining in the light from outside.

“I’ll go slow,” she teased, crawling up his body and wedging her knees on either side of his hips.

“Don’t you dare,” he said through his teeth. Esther smiled and shifted her weight forward. “You’re gonna kill me,” Hank groaned as she gripped the base of his shaft and lined the head up with her entrance.

“I would never,” she said with a laugh. “Even though you did pull the Death card.”

His hands clung to the armrests as she impaled herself on his thickness. Hank bit his lip, and Esther gasped at the sensation of being filled so slowly.

“If that card meant this, I’ll die a thousand times.”

It was such an unbearably sweet thing for him to say in a moment like this, with two horny people who barely knew each other just scratching itches. As soon as her brain really wrapped itself around justhowsweet, she found herself fully seated on him.

“Fresh starts,” she said, not recognizing her own breathy voice. “New beginnings.”

Hank shifted his hips, and she gasped again as the movement ground his pelvis against her clit.

“New beginnings,” he said quietly.

For a moment, Esther thought that he wasn’t as affected as her, that he wasn’t millimeters away from falling apart entirely. But when she rolled her hips once and then began to ride him in earnest, her body lifting and dropping in a steady cadence, she could see that Hank was, in fact, holding onto all of his tightly held control with his bare fingertips.

He held onto the chair as she rode him, as if he were afraid to touch her. But when she ground down hard against him, he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her flat against his chest, their teeth clashing together as he kissed her, her body pressed against his so tightly that she felt the cotton of his underwear against her clit.

But then he set his feet higher up on the recliner, which was all the warning she got before he grabbed her hips and thrust up into her. Esther moaned into his mouth as he drove his entire length up at the same time as he pulled her hips down to meet his.

He froze, gasping for breath.Esther could see the apology on the tip of his tongue, could feel him start to withdraw, both literally and figuratively, and so she pulled him closer, somehow deeper.

Esther felt the current of electricity connect them like a live wire as he thrust into her, hesitant at first, but gaining confidence with every moan she let loose, every nail track she left on his shoulders and chest, until he was pounding up into her.

“Hank,” she gasped. She wrapped one arm around his neck and slid the other between their bodies, sliding her clit between two fingers.

“What do you need?” he groaned, his voice deep and hoarse, breaking on the last word.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop,” she found herself chanting, unable to do anything but hang onto him and let him put her where she needed to be.

“Never,” he growled.