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Like-Like You

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Oh your darling Thomas… One of the reasons you fell for him so hard in the first place was of his gorgeous body. He towers over you, broad shoulders, and thick muscles that are hard earned. You wished you could tell him how you feel just so you could feel up those arms.

All you could do as of now is to pat him while squeezing by, as an assurance to let him know you were passing, or holding on to him for balance since you were oh so clumsy. In reality, you were agile, but you spin a web of little white lies so the Hewitt’s never quite know your full potential.

Since you were head over heels for Tommy, you didn’t want to leave, but you needed a back door, just in case.

But God damn it! Thomas didn’t know he was doing it, but he has been teasing you all day! Luda Mae had proclaimed that it was high time that the barn was cleared of trash and clutter after you tripped and fell into Thomas last week while the two of you went to retrieve replacement parts for the fridge.

All staged so you could get those beefy arms wrapped around you and rest against his chest, but you had ended up with a nasty slash on your side, that thankfully didn’t get infected but bled worse than it looked.

You had never quite seen Thomas so worked up than when he carried you back to the house.

But today… An awful heatwave had rolled in, leaving you in a thin, light colored long sleeve shirt and baseball cap. Working from dawn until the beginning twinkling of dusk, hauling junk out of the barn and sorting it into a keep, burn, and trash pile, had left the both of you drenched in sweat. Only Thomas decided wearing a shirt wasn’t worth it, and at around 11am had whipped the soaked fabric off.

At least you could blame your fumblings on being clumsy, and not being distracted by the sweat rolling down Thomas’ massive and toned back. He’s covered in a nice layer of fat, which softens him, but makes him about 100% more attractive than any jacked steroid freak.

There was no way he’s doing this on purpose, you think to yourself, sitting in the shade and sorting machine parts into boxes. Thomas has worse self esteem than any middle school girl. He got flustered whenever Luda Mae, his own mother, called him handsome. You can’t help but squeeze your thighs together when his muscles flex as he hauls a full size mattress, completely caked in dried blood, over to the trash pile. He stumbles back after throwing it down, kicking up dirt underneath his boots.

You take your hat off, and wipe the sweat off from your forehead before hauling yourself up. “I’m gonna go get us some lemonade Thomas, why don’t you sit down for a spell?” you tell him, jerking your head to the musty loveseat still in the partially cleared out barn.

No one’s in the house to question you when you run into the bathroom before heading through to the kitchen and shovel ice in two glasses, and pour in chilled, homemade lemonade Luda Mae made earlier in the day.

When you get back, jogging carefully with the cups in your hands, Thomas is sprawled across the couch, making it seem tiny under his massive form. Like it was made for kids.

You pass his a glass and resist the urge to sit too close to him. It doesn’t take long for him to knock back the glass, throat bobbing with each gulp. He crunches a few pieces of ice, while you sip at yours at a liberal pace. He presses the glass to his forehead and chest in a last ditch attempt to cool down, and the added condensation does nothing to help you.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you mutter, setting your drink on the ground.

Thomas picks up on it, and tilts his head to the side. He expects a lot of things, but you crawling into his lap and ravenously kissing him is not amongst them.

You grind down on him, and feel up his firm pecs. “You’ve been getting my riled up all damn day Tommy, it’s not fair,” you whine. “Are you not aware of how damn sexy you are?”

He doesn’t quite know what to do. He really, really wasn’t thinking of this as a possibility. Sure, he thought you have a nice ass and a pretty face, and harbored his own little crush on you. But you liking him back? Thinking he was purposefully teasing you?? He thinks it’s a heat induced delusion.

“Damn, all of you is big,” you moan, rubbing your crotch against his. “Tommy, if you don’t want to, I ain’t gonna think less of you, but you’ve had me horny all day and I need you to fuck me, right here, right now.”

That’s good enough to pull him out of his stupor. Thomas grabs you by your hips, and grinds you down against him as he thrusts up to meet you.

You let him lay you down on the couch, and fucking Christ when he hunches over, he completely dwarfs you. You can’t help but run your hands all over his back and arms, feeling up his muscles. Meanwhile, he tugs off your jeans, and pauses when he gets them off.

Oh yeah, you had forgotten to put on underwear today, hadn’t you?

His breathing gets heavier and shakier, and when he slips a finger in you, he finds no resistance and you already plenty lubed up.

Looks like your impromptu trip to the bathroom to prep yourself was worth it.

Thomas frantically gets his button and fly undone, and lets his rock hard cock flop out onto your abdomen. Your eyes go wide when you feel the heafty weight of it, and dart down to get the confirmation of that massive thing resting on your stomach.

Of fuck there is no way that thing is going to fit in you.

But that only serves to rile the both of you up further. 

“Tommy, Tommy, please,” you whine, wrapping your hand around that massive cock of his. “I need you in me, oh Christ, please baby.”

If his chest weren’t heaving before, it would be now as he stared down at your writhing body. So desperate. For him. Wanting him so badly that you’re begging. Thomas starts hyperventilating, but that doesn’t stop him from ramming into you to the hilt.

Your mouth opens in a wordless scream as he does, and you can only lay there and relish in it as Thomas does the same.

He’s quick to grip your hips and slip you almost entirely off before his hips stutter up again.

You can’t stop the wail that comes out of your mouth as he fucks you onto his thick cock. “O-oh Christ, Tommy!” you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. “S-so good. Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

While Tommy has plenty of stamina in other area, he’s never been embraced like this before. Never shared his body before. A lot of people see him as a wild beast, ready to take and take and take. But that’s far from the truth.

Tommy suddenly grabs you by your upper arms, and crushes you to his chest. He wraps himself around you tightly, and it’s like you’re being suffocated. You’re like a doll to him, as his hips stall and pump you full of his cum. The only noise to come out of him is a long winded groan that almost sounds pained.

You struggle to breathe like this, but being restrained, the lack of air, and cum pulsing so deep inside of you has you clenching around his cock and choking out a moan.

Thomas gives little care as he collapses on top of you, making all the air rush out of your lungs at once. He doesn’t make a move to remove himself from inside or above you. 

“T-Thomas, please, I can’t breath,” you manage to wheeze out. 

Reluctantly, he props himself up on his elbows, just enough to stop himself from pressing on you, but keeping in physical contact. Though he hold his head an awkward way, away from you.

“Hey, hey.” You hand shake when you reach up and stroke the patch of bare skin above his mask. “Don’t be like that.”

It’s a surprise that Tommy lets you lead his face down, and rest his forehead against yours. The breath you two share isn’t all spring fresh, but you don’t mind all that much. The sweat both of you are slicked in probably smell worse anyways.

“I really liked that Tommy.” You try looking him in the eyes, but he keeps darting them away. You bet that if he took his mask off, right now he’d be blushing worse than a pastor in a strip club. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like to keep doing it. I-I know you don’t think you’re good looking, but I do, Tommy. And I really, really like you. Like, like-like you.”

It was little kid talk, and not that Thomas couldn’t understand more mature language, you don’t think you could bring yourself to saying the Big L-word just yet. “Do you?”

He tilts his head to side and somehow shrinks in on himself. Which is something you don’t like to see because one of Thomas’ big (heh) appeals is how so easily and readily he overwhelms you with his presence. Stoic, distant, and a little big irate, scowling at everyone but his mama and you. You don’t mind his being soft, and vulnerable, but that’s not what this was. 

This is uncomfortable and unsure of himself. It may be a bit selfish of you to ask, but you want Thomas confident of himself and his emotions at all times. He deserves to feel that way.

“I mean, do you want to keep doing this? Do you…” Don’t say it don’t say it don’t say it don’t say it. “Want to go steady?”

Thomas’ eyes seem to light up at that. And this time, he manages to look right at you without shying away. Part of his face is incredulous. Maybe one too many times of people asking him out on dates or to prom or homecoming as a joke.

But Thomas knows you, and knows you would never do that. He manages out a tentative grunt, and a short nod. And when the biggest grin in all of damn Texas crosses your face, Thomas melts into your arms.