Lumbersexual (Novella) by Leslie McAdam

 By the time he pulled back, the pizza had gotten cold.
    When we returned to his house, I hadn’t stepped inside more than five seconds before he’d pressed me against the back of the green painted door, his hand on my ass, his tongue in my mouth.
    And I grabbed his hair, yanking him to me, feeling the need to claim him, make him mine.
    “I like it when you pull my hair.  It’s fucking hot.”
    He sucked my earlobe and then bit it with his teeth.
    “Gotta ask.  You on birth control?”
    I nodded.  “I’m on the pill.”
    Now he was sucking on my neck, one hand under my ass, lunging into me still against the door, hard between my legs.  “You good with bare?  My last test was clean. I can show you.”
    Was I good with bare?
    Did he need to show me the paper?
    Was I being an idiot if I believed him?
    He pulled back for a moment.  “It’s okay either way.  I just really want to feel you with nothing in between us.”
    I wanted that connection, too.  I’d never been bare before.  I’d always used condoms with the pill.
    But I wanted this too.  I wanted to be natural with him.  Enjoy him.
    Trust him?
    “Yes, it’s okay.”
    He didn’t say anything, but he smiled a full grin and raised his eyebrow.  Then he wrapped me in a huge hug.
    And in a flash, my t-shirt was off, boots off, he’d taken off my jeans for me and slid down my undies.  His shirt off, his jeans undone, he picked me up, naked, and laid me down on the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace.
    “Don’t think we need a fire tonight.”
    I shook my head, and I wished that it was winter and I could be here, doing this in front of a fire crackling, music playing.  But I pulled myself together and fuck, his beardy beard was between my legs, one of my legs flung over his shoulder, the other spread to the side.  I scratched at the rug, his broad shoulders and inked arms flexing over me, his head bent, his hair falling onto my lower abdomen.  He caressed, licked, sucked, and drew out my pleasure with energy and strength.  
    “Do you like doing this?” I asked.
    He paused, and I realized how stupid my question was.  Then he looked up and his intense eyes met mine.  “I can’t live without it.”  But before he continued, I thought that he muttered, “Without you.”
    And I couldn’t take it.  “Come here, now please.”
    He shoved his jeans down to his knees, not even bothering to take them all the way off, so desperate to be inside me, pressing into me on the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace.  I could tell we weren’t using a condom.  No latex smell, no plastic feel, no unnatural stickiness.
    Just him and me, my head thrown back on the rug, my hair curly and wild, his dropping into his face.
    And I didn’t want to be anywhere else.  I wanted a picture.  I wanted time to stand still.
    But he got me out of my head and into my body, and all I felt was thumping pleasure, focusing sensation, caresses alternated with getting fucked hard, playing my body like it was territory he’d explored and loved to return to again and again.
    A secret spot all his.
    And mine, because yes, he kept going, and yes, my blood pulsed, and yes, my body swelled up to meet him, and yes, fuck, yes, I clenched, all the tension, all the feeling, his hard beautiful cock in me.  I was so wet, and I came so hard, almost flapping on the floor.  He’d wrenched it all out of me with every delicious move, and he kept going and going, keeping my orgasm riding, until he closed his eyes.  I watched his face.  He thrust up into me hard, and the pain on his face was worth it because it wasn’t pain, it was pleasure, and he released into me, his chapped lips coming down on my forehead and his arms wrapped around me like vines.
    I wrapped my legs around his ass and my arms around his shoulders and held on as he relaxed into me.
    I wasn’t letting him go.
    Ever.
    Breathe in.
    Breathe out.
    Our stomachs matched.
    When he finally rolled off of me and lay on