3, 2, 1, We Came to Fuck [S/A]
The sugar dances across his lips, the liquor settling in his stomach just enough to make the edges of the world fuzzy and warm. Sam's lips taste the opposite, bitter from the beer in the bottle, the mixture creating the feeling of buzzing on his tongue. He giggles as Sam trails his lips down Kurt's jaw, tickling that sweet spot on his neck with his tongue. He sets the glass of alcohol down on the coffee table, buzzed enough to feel the happiness but sober enough to be somewhat logical.
Sam lifts his head from Kurt's neck, his hazel eyes full of energy and lust. He leans in, kissing Kurt as he pushes him against the arm rest of the loveseat. Sam is drunk and hot and Kurt could really care less about what is going on around him as Sam keeps pressing himself against Kurt's hips. He lets himself buck up against Sam, grinding against Sam's evident erection, pulling Sam down to kiss him deeper. His hands brush against Sam's abs as they trail down his body. Kurt pulls away from Sam's lips, opening his eyes and waiting for Sam to do the same before asking. Sam pulls his shirt off and Kurt thinks he might just come right there and then.
From the beginning, Sam was completely educated on Kurt's obvious infatuation with his muscles. He grins madly as Kurt's eyes widen as his hands run up and down, savouring the feel of the defined muscles beneath his fingers. He leans up, capturing Sam's bottom lip between his teeth as he lets his fingers wander, tweaking Sam's nipple as they trail upwards, a little gasp escaping Sam's lips. Kurt smirks as he pulls his boyfriend close again.
He feels the subtle feel of Sam's fingers trailing along the edge of his shirt, just barely grazing his hips, bordering the waistband of his pants. He tears his hands away from Sam's perfectly toned body, slipping his shirt off, self-conscious for the moment before Sam's hand slips into the curve of his waist. "Kurt," he hears Sam breath out, "Dear God, you're beautiful." He looks down, their stomachs pressing against one another, Sam's skin two hues darker from being in the summer sun for football practice every day.
Kurt imagines Sam, running laps, lifting weights, hot and sweaty, and suddenly he finds the boldness to run his fingers down to Sam's pants, unbuttoning the jeans and tugging them off. He can't help but feel embarrassed as they get caught on Sam's knee, causing him to stand up in order to fully take them off. He smiles at his boyfriend before he lays back down on top of him, kissing the humiliation away. Kurt's pants slide down his thin legs considerably easier, leaving the two with only the thinnest layer of clothing separating them.
For a moment, Kurt regrets it, the alcohol, the buzzed make out, the stripping. He knows that Sam is big, that Sam has the power to crush him. He's never had anybody in him at all and the fear of pain begins to take over. Sam can sense it, Kurt's sure of that, the instant the fear crosses his mind, Sam is kissing his neck. That exact spot that he'd found before, the one that makes Kurt moan and arch his back upwards towards Sam.
Sam pulls his underwear off, only after Kurt realizes that he'd been waiting for him to do it. Kurt replies with a non-vocal sorry, kissing along Sam's neck and collarbone, kissing his nipple before he sucks it gently. He trails back upwards as Sam tugs on his underwear, a request. Kurt kisses him, pressing his tongue into Sam's mouth without any warning. Yes. Suddenly the difference, hidden behind a layer of white, is obvious and there's no hiding it. He shrinks back into the couch because he was right, Sam is fucking huge and he's just there.
Just as the fear is about to set in again, to make him realize that he will be taking all of Sam's dick, Sam's fingers wrap around Kurt, pumping him teasingly. "Jesus Christ Sam," Kurt grits out, the guitar calluses on Sam's fingers causing the perfect pressure on Kurt's dick. Kurt's sure that he's going to come right there and then, Sam's hand is gone. He's about to protest when he sees where Sam's hand has disappeared to, reaching over them to grab the condom and lube off of the nightstand. Kurt thanks himself for being forward and obvious.
He watches as Sam tears open the foil, with his hands to the dismay of Kurt. He rolls the condom on his dick and before Kurt can even tell, he's grabbing the lube out of Sam's hand and squeezing some onto his fingers. Suddenly, there's no turning back and he forces himself to press his lube-covered fingers to Sam's cock. The sound that Sam makes is enough to cause the rest of Kurt's hand to wrap around Sam, spreading the lube more than needed.
Kurt gets into the sound of Sam, his hand speeding up before Sam grabs Kurt's hand, "If you keep doing that, I'm going to come right now." Kurt has to suppress a moan from Sam's voice, wrecked and raw. Sam takes the lube from Kurt, applying it to his own fingers. Kurt knows; he can feel as Sam's fingers, cold and wet, approach him. He exhales before Sam applies any pressure, sucking his breath in as Sam's finger pushes inside him.
It hurts. It hurts and it is one finger and Kurt feels thoroughly embarrassed because it's not supposed to hurt until at least the second finger. He feels like he's been lied to. And then Sam is kissing him and moving his finger around and Kurt begins to slowly forget about the burning in his ass. Sam presses a second finger in, slowly but surely.
Kurt feels himself ease up as Sam continues to work him loose, "You ready?" Sam asks, kissing Kurt's collarbone as he slowly begins to withdraw his fingers. Kurt nods, even though he knows that he's not ready. Nothing can prepare him for Sam as he feels Sam lift his legs up, hitching them over his shoulders.
Kurt is certain that he's going to burst out in tears; Sam is bigger than he looks. He bites his lip, drawing blood. Sam leans down, pressing sorrowful kisses to Kurt's bleeding lip, "Do you want me to stop?" Kurt shakes his head madly, he's Kurt Hummel and he will take all of Sam Evans if it splits him in half.
He's thankful that Sam moves slowly, letting himself adjust. Once Sam is fully in, Kurt relaxes, realizing that the pain is subsiding as Sam continues to move. Sam wraps his hand around Kurt, pumping him along with his thrusts. As he begins to slip into the white, the pain becomes non-existent, the only feeling of Sam hitting his spot, sliding over it with every thrust.
Kurt lets his head fall back onto the pillow, his jaw slack as he moans loudly. Sam chuckles next to Kurt's face, the smell of beer with the subtle scent of sugar adding to the sub-world feeling that engulfs Kurt as he becomes immersed in the white pleasure. He knows that he's going to come soon and he's not sure how long Sam has been fucking him but he knows that no length of time will ever be enough to satisfy him.
He comes hard, his toes curling and panting frantically to catch his breath. He feels Sam freeze inside of him and he knows that Sam came, probably just as hard as he did. Kurt opens his eyes for the first time in what feels like forever, smiling back at Sam's smile. They share a look before they grab their drinks again because if the sex is that amazing while they're buzzed, they can't wait until they're completely drunk.
Sam lifts his head from Kurt's neck, his hazel eyes full of energy and lust. He leans in, kissing Kurt as he pushes him against the arm rest of the loveseat. Sam is drunk and hot and Kurt could really care less about what is going on around him as Sam keeps pressing himself against Kurt's hips. He lets himself buck up against Sam, grinding against Sam's evident erection, pulling Sam down to kiss him deeper. His hands brush against Sam's abs as they trail down his body. Kurt pulls away from Sam's lips, opening his eyes and waiting for Sam to do the same before asking. Sam pulls his shirt off and Kurt thinks he might just come right there and then.
From the beginning, Sam was completely educated on Kurt's obvious infatuation with his muscles. He grins madly as Kurt's eyes widen as his hands run up and down, savouring the feel of the defined muscles beneath his fingers. He leans up, capturing Sam's bottom lip between his teeth as he lets his fingers wander, tweaking Sam's nipple as they trail upwards, a little gasp escaping Sam's lips. Kurt smirks as he pulls his boyfriend close again.
He feels the subtle feel of Sam's fingers trailing along the edge of his shirt, just barely grazing his hips, bordering the waistband of his pants. He tears his hands away from Sam's perfectly toned body, slipping his shirt off, self-conscious for the moment before Sam's hand slips into the curve of his waist. "Kurt," he hears Sam breath out, "Dear God, you're beautiful." He looks down, their stomachs pressing against one another, Sam's skin two hues darker from being in the summer sun for football practice every day.
Kurt imagines Sam, running laps, lifting weights, hot and sweaty, and suddenly he finds the boldness to run his fingers down to Sam's pants, unbuttoning the jeans and tugging them off. He can't help but feel embarrassed as they get caught on Sam's knee, causing him to stand up in order to fully take them off. He smiles at his boyfriend before he lays back down on top of him, kissing the humiliation away. Kurt's pants slide down his thin legs considerably easier, leaving the two with only the thinnest layer of clothing separating them.
For a moment, Kurt regrets it, the alcohol, the buzzed make out, the stripping. He knows that Sam is big, that Sam has the power to crush him. He's never had anybody in him at all and the fear of pain begins to take over. Sam can sense it, Kurt's sure of that, the instant the fear crosses his mind, Sam is kissing his neck. That exact spot that he'd found before, the one that makes Kurt moan and arch his back upwards towards Sam.
Sam pulls his underwear off, only after Kurt realizes that he'd been waiting for him to do it. Kurt replies with a non-vocal sorry, kissing along Sam's neck and collarbone, kissing his nipple before he sucks it gently. He trails back upwards as Sam tugs on his underwear, a request. Kurt kisses him, pressing his tongue into Sam's mouth without any warning. Yes. Suddenly the difference, hidden behind a layer of white, is obvious and there's no hiding it. He shrinks back into the couch because he was right, Sam is fucking huge and he's just there.
Just as the fear is about to set in again, to make him realize that he will be taking all of Sam's dick, Sam's fingers wrap around Kurt, pumping him teasingly. "Jesus Christ Sam," Kurt grits out, the guitar calluses on Sam's fingers causing the perfect pressure on Kurt's dick. Kurt's sure that he's going to come right there and then, Sam's hand is gone. He's about to protest when he sees where Sam's hand has disappeared to, reaching over them to grab the condom and lube off of the nightstand. Kurt thanks himself for being forward and obvious.
He watches as Sam tears open the foil, with his hands to the dismay of Kurt. He rolls the condom on his dick and before Kurt can even tell, he's grabbing the lube out of Sam's hand and squeezing some onto his fingers. Suddenly, there's no turning back and he forces himself to press his lube-covered fingers to Sam's cock. The sound that Sam makes is enough to cause the rest of Kurt's hand to wrap around Sam, spreading the lube more than needed.
Kurt gets into the sound of Sam, his hand speeding up before Sam grabs Kurt's hand, "If you keep doing that, I'm going to come right now." Kurt has to suppress a moan from Sam's voice, wrecked and raw. Sam takes the lube from Kurt, applying it to his own fingers. Kurt knows; he can feel as Sam's fingers, cold and wet, approach him. He exhales before Sam applies any pressure, sucking his breath in as Sam's finger pushes inside him.
It hurts. It hurts and it is one finger and Kurt feels thoroughly embarrassed because it's not supposed to hurt until at least the second finger. He feels like he's been lied to. And then Sam is kissing him and moving his finger around and Kurt begins to slowly forget about the burning in his ass. Sam presses a second finger in, slowly but surely.
Kurt feels himself ease up as Sam continues to work him loose, "You ready?" Sam asks, kissing Kurt's collarbone as he slowly begins to withdraw his fingers. Kurt nods, even though he knows that he's not ready. Nothing can prepare him for Sam as he feels Sam lift his legs up, hitching them over his shoulders.
Kurt is certain that he's going to burst out in tears; Sam is bigger than he looks. He bites his lip, drawing blood. Sam leans down, pressing sorrowful kisses to Kurt's bleeding lip, "Do you want me to stop?" Kurt shakes his head madly, he's Kurt Hummel and he will take all of Sam Evans if it splits him in half.
He's thankful that Sam moves slowly, letting himself adjust. Once Sam is fully in, Kurt relaxes, realizing that the pain is subsiding as Sam continues to move. Sam wraps his hand around Kurt, pumping him along with his thrusts. As he begins to slip into the white, the pain becomes non-existent, the only feeling of Sam hitting his spot, sliding over it with every thrust.
Kurt lets his head fall back onto the pillow, his jaw slack as he moans loudly. Sam chuckles next to Kurt's face, the smell of beer with the subtle scent of sugar adding to the sub-world feeling that engulfs Kurt as he becomes immersed in the white pleasure. He knows that he's going to come soon and he's not sure how long Sam has been fucking him but he knows that no length of time will ever be enough to satisfy him.
He comes hard, his toes curling and panting frantically to catch his breath. He feels Sam freeze inside of him and he knows that Sam came, probably just as hard as he did. Kurt opens his eyes for the first time in what feels like forever, smiling back at Sam's smile. They share a look before they grab their drinks again because if the sex is that amazing while they're buzzed, they can't wait until they're completely drunk.