Kerovin-Sex

Hungry lips, the press of two bodies together, splatter of water against the tiled walls, hands roving down paths half-remembered. A pause to catch breaths in the steamy air.



“How long?”



“Two months”



“Same here”



Panting breaths, as the dark haired head travels down from the oh so sweet mouth, following the trail of water between her breasts. He takes one nub into his mouth, swirling and sucking, tweaking the other with one large hand. He pulls his head away, blowing lightly on the peak, before moving on to the other breast, giving the same treatment.



It went unsaid that each was relieved, thankful, glad that the other had not strayed during their time apart.



Fist in his hair, pulling him from his ministrations, tugging him back to stand tall, turning so his back was pressed against the slick tiles. The feel of silky hair sliding down his front through the shirt as a trail of nips and kisses lined his face and neck. A growled sentence “Why the fuck do you still have clothes on?” When the vixen encountered the half-forgotten shirt. Sharp nails tearing at the flimsy fabric, baring his perfect chest, finally she had access.



He buried his hands into masses of silky hair, clutching her close as she attacked his chest with gusto. He tried to distance himself from the pleasure, trying not to end it too quickly and just bend her over right there. An arch and a groan as she did something illegal with her tongue. His hands fisted into her hair, grabbing her head and bringing her back up so he could kiss her again quickly, actually missing her mouth entirely in his haste.



Nose bumped against her cheekbone, he growls, frustrated that he went too fast. He finds her mouth more slowly this time, but with no less urgency, fighting a war with her tongue over dominance of her mouth. He didn’t notice his split lip reopening, but the taste of copper intermingling with the taste of her surprised them both. They pulled back, panting, as he untangled one hand to probe the cut on his lip. Apologetic smiles lighting up both faces.



“Not your fault,” whispered from the blind face, as he trailed his hand over her face, remapping features, tracing over the scars on her cheeks, face tightening with pain as he thought of why she would go to such lengths. He tried to pull away, not wanting to hurt her anymore.



She growled, guessing his reason for pulling away. “Not your fault either. Now take off your pants!” He. Was. Still. Wearing. Fucking. Clothes. How many times did she have to tell him to get naked before he would obey? Her hands grabbed onto the elastic band of the gym shorts, and she tugged down forcefully, finally freeing him for her eyes, among other things, to devour.



He sprang to attention, hands falling away to brace against the slick surface of the wall, stepping out of soaked shorts and kicking them out of the way.



She grabbed him, fisting his length with one tiny hand. He was finally naked, and she was more than ready. Glad that she was taller than him, she moved close, checking the angle before suddenly moving, impaling herself on his length.



He gasped, not at all ready for the sudden movement, feeling her adjust to his size. His hands went to her ass instinctively, trying to pull her closer, go even deeper. She was so tight. If he had been the untrusting sort, this would have proven beyond all else that she hadn’t touched another man during his period of stupidity.



She curled one leg up behind him, twining around his muscular thighs, pulling herself closer, pressing her chest to his, cheek to cheek, blowing softly on his ear before giving a little nip and pulling away. She pulled off of him, nearly all the way, a hand on his chest stopping him from following, telling him to let her take the lead this time. Then down again, all the way, one hand going to his balls, the other scratching lightly along his collarbone before reaching around to cup his ass.



She established the rhythm, forcefully pounding home each and every time, growling and biting every time he tried to follow, to change her rhythm, to try and slow down at all. He gave up, loosing himself to the pleasure, the feel on him inside of her, her ass in his hands, her legs pressing against his.



The shower continued to spray hot pellets onto the couple, lighting up every nerve ending with a kaleidoscope of feelings. The pressure grew, rising to the point of unbearable.



They arched their backs in tandem, pushing impossible closer together, feeling the rush of two months of want, of need releasing to run down the drain.



He was glad of the supportive wall behind his back as he slowly withdrew, clutching Kero close as she sagged panting against his chest, the tattered remnants of his shirt still hanging from his shoulders. “I love you Kerowyn.” He whispered into her ear.



Her hands clenched on his shoulders. How long she had waited to hear that again. “I love you Devin,” she replied, and he held her close.



Eventually they returned to the real world, showering off the stresses of the past 8 weeks, the silence continuous except for one point. Devin laughed in the middle of washing her back, and Kero turned around to glare in his direction, not caring if he couldn’t see it. “Something funny?” She asked, pressing her ass back onto his length, feeling the stirrings of another round.



He groaned, pushing her back off of him, not wanting to get distracted just yet. “I just remembered that we forgot a condom again. But as soon as that thought crossed my mind, I realized that it didn’t matter right now anyways.” His hand trailed over to cup her still-flat stomach, and a worried tone crept into his words. “The baby is fine, right?”



Now it was her time to laugh. “Sex isn’t going to hurt the baby love. Nothing that felt that good could possibly do him harm.”



He chuckled, relieved, their laughter intermingling with the cooling spray.