He could spend the rest of his life kissing her and then die a happy man. She kisses so sweetly - fingers stroking his jaw, tongue soft and curious, teeth grazing his lower lip, her entire body pliant against his. Her entire body. There's so much of her, and Gary loves it, though he doesn't know how he could ever tell her this without it coming out the wrong way. When they stand together and hold each other, he can feel her against him from head to foot. Every other girlfriend had always felt small and insubstantial in his arms. Miranda is all substance.
She rids him of his jacket and starts on the buttons of his plaid shirt as he works off his shoes with his toes. It's a joyous, inelegant dance; do they know any other kind? The plaid is gone, and now her hands greedily untuck and slide under his other shirt, cool against his skin. He reaches down and yanks the shirt up over his head, pausing to take in her face at the sight of him.
It's nothing she hasn't seen before, of course, but her eyes and grin widen like a kid in a sweet shop. She feathers the fingers of one hand over his nipple, and there's nothing he can do to stop the needy sound that escapes.
"It's been 'look but don't touch' for so long," she says. "Now I can touch and touch and touch."
Gary chuckles and pulls her close, drawing their foreheads together. "God, Miranda, I've wanted this for so long."
He tugs on the tie of her robe and raises his eyebrows in question, but she shakes her head. "No?" he asks.
"I want to see all of you first."
He leans in to kiss her. "Go on, then," he murmurs against her mouth. As her hands busy themselves with his belt and fly, his lips wander down her neck, kissing and tasting. Christ, he loves how tall she is.
Together, they push down his trousers and boxers, taking his socks with them. He kicks the pile to one side, and when he straightens, Miranda is staring again, her cheeks bright red.
"Wow," she exhales. Her eyes meet his, and to his consternation, there are tears.
He pulls her into a hug. "No, no. What's wrong, love?"
Her lips brush against his neck as she replies, "You're so... I don't understand why you... What are you doing with me?"
Gary has always known and hated how fragile her self-esteem is, thanks in no small part to family and friends who tease her in the unkindest ways. He wishes he could show her how she looks to him, tall and curvy like an Amazon - but a silly Amazon who trips on chairs and makes everything fun.
He draws back slightly and cradles her face in his hands. Her flushed cheeks are warm under his palms. "Look at me," he says. He waits until she's looking directly into his eyes. "I think you are gorgeous. Gorgeous and sexy as fuck."
She blinks at the word. "Naughty," she smiles, and he laughs.
"And if you don't want to take my word for it..." He slides both hands down to the delicious, generous curve of her butt and pulls her against his erection.
They both moan at the contact, and then they're kissing again hungrily. Gary feels the edge of the bed behind his knees, and he sits, drawing Miranda between his knees. He tugs at the tie on her robe again and looks up at her. "Please let me see you now," he says.
Looking both shy and excited, she nods and watches him loosen the tie and peel the robe back. Due to her many mishaps, he's seen her in various states of undress, but he still isn't prepared for the sight of her fully nude. Her breasts are a wonder of the world, and his head fills with all the filthy things he wants to do with them. Her stomach is slightly rounded, her legs go on for days (more filthy thoughts), and the neatly trimmed hair between her thighs is an invitation he plans to accept every chance he gets.
"Miranda..." he breathes. "Gorgeous." He leans forward and presses kisses to her belly while one hand curls around to the small of her back to hold her close, and the other cups a breast. He loves the weight of it in his hand; whatever it costs to post would be entirely worth it. He has cataloged many of her cute noises over the years, but her half-gasp, half-whimper of pleasure immediately becomes his favorite.
He scoots back and to one side of the bed, extending his hand for her to join him. When she remembers and pulls off her socks at the last minute, he laughs. They settle on their sides, face-to-face, and they kiss for what must be days. His hands are everywhere, and so are hers.
He slides a hand down her belly and pauses when his fingers encounter the wiry hairs below. "Do hands do it for you?" he asks.
She nods vigorously. "Yours will," she says with such conviction that they both laugh.
So Gary explores and teases. Miranda is vocal about what she likes, each new sound a revelation and a gift. As her pleasure builds, she begins to say his name, gripping his bicep and writhing against his hand. He draws her leg over his hip to give himself more room and to bring their bodies closer.
"That's it," he coaxes. "That's it, love."
Sex has never been this good for him, and they haven't even reached the main event yet. She's so beautiful and responsive and warm, and when she comes, it's extraordinary. He wonders if she likes oral sex. He hopes she does, because he's desperate to taste her, to lose himself between her thighs.
As he got her off, she had gradually rolled to her back, and now Gary hovers over her, one hand on each side of her head. "You still want this?" he asks.
Her eyes are radiant and amused. "Yes, please and thank you."
He laughs. "Good. Be right back." He makes quick work of pulling his trousers off the floor, rummaging in the pockets, and finding the pack of condoms he'd brought with him. Tear, roll, ready.
In admirably record time, he's sure, his body is back where it belongs - against hers.
"What would you have done if this was terrible?" she asks when their lips part for air.
"I knew it wouldn't be."
"But what if it had been? You proposed to me before you even knew."
Gary strokes the hair back from her forehead. "I knew." He kisses her nose. "Didn't you know?"
A wide smile blooms on her face. "Yeah."
"How do you want this? Any favorite position?"
"Right now, I want you just like this," she says.
They share another long, sweet kiss, and then he reaches between them to guide himself inside her. He can't tear his eyes from her face as he fills her. He doesn't have an enormous porno cock or anything, but he fits her snugly, and it feels fan-fucking-tastic.
"Okay?" he asks, swallowing hard. He knows he has to keep it together to make this part good for her, too.
Her hands slide up and down his back. "Way better than okay."
And then he just... loves her with all that he's got. Her long legs hold him tightly against her, but he still has room to slip his hand between them to help her along.
"Are you going to come again?" he asks breathlessly.
"I - I think so. Yes... Gary..."
"Come again for me. Please, I want to feel it."
Their pace is hard and relentless now, and when Miranda breaks, her muscles wring his own release from him. He falls, panting, to her side and waits for his breathing to slow.
"You're very good at thrusting," she says. "Thrust."
He laughs, and they both leave the bed to take care of necessities. When they return to each other's arms, he kisses her shoulder. "We're going to do that a lot, right?" he smiles.
Lamps off, legs entwined, breathing slow and steady.
"I love you," he says, but her only response is a soft snore.
He falls asleep the happiest man in the world.