The usual room we occupy in the same love hotel.
While we both slowly undress I can’t help but think that his dick is too small. Sure, it has sort of a cute shape and when it gets hard it awkwardly aims to the sky, but... he really is small. At times I can hold it between three fingers. And he gets aroused for every little thing. At times it’s unnerving.
Now that he stands naked in front of me, he’s way more shy than he’s ever been. But I guess it’s the same for me…
He gets in the bathroom first and, as I wait for him to finish, I only observe my toes touching the moquette: why are they so large? I’m sure my feet would be way cuter if they were more slim.
Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, he gets out. His hair is humid and an embarrassed expression shatters his common, almost banal face.
"Wait for me on the bed, I’ll be quick," I tell him. And, when I’ve closed myself in the bathroom, I suddenly realize what’s going to happen in a few minutes.
My head stumbles between the thoughts, my body burns. I’m way too excited.
I’ve been holding him for quite a while. His body’s warmth always comforts me; it erases every tiny bit of my solitude, like a giant breath of fire that dissolves a vast ice expanse.
I can feel he’s impatient. He is slowly rubbing his manhood over my thighs; it tickles softly.
"Do you think... you’re ready, now?" His voice is so weak and broken that it unnerves me a little. At this moment I only want to be held forever. The rest only comes after.
But I can’t blame him. I, too, feel that burning sensation coming from within. My breath is getting heavier and heavier too, as the knowledge of what we both want becomes more concrete.
"A little bit more... sorry."
Then, while holding me with one arm, he starts touching me from behind. His left hand moves across my asscheeks, until the fingers reach my hole and start rubbing it. I try to suppress the moans, but after a while I stop caring.