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It was troubling.
His body felt on fire, and not even taking off his pants and sweater helped against the raging burning inside of him.
You were in the kitchen. The runaway teenager that had come to his home the previous night had knocked on your bedroom door to ask you to come there, his neighbor's daughter was having one of her crises and she couldn't get her to stop crying.
He couldn't believe his luck when it came to you, so unbelievably sweet, smart and capable, his anchor to sanity amongst that sea of madness.
The spots where you'd kissed him before getting interrupted still tingled and burned from pleasure. Your scent was everywhere on the bed, he turned his head to your side of the pillow and sharply inhaled as his hand slowly went down to his boxers.
His thumb lightly glided over the clothed slit, a hiss escaping him as the ache of wanting flared up, his wet spot growing by the second.
Slowly exhaling, he gripped his erection firmly, savoring the feeling of the fabric's texture against the sensitive skin.
Hips bucking, he slid down the boxers, now an obstacle to his pleasure.
The raging boner he sported wasn't enough to make his dick fully lift itself, too heavy to manage that.
He wrapped his hand around it and started to stroke it, imagining your voice and hot breath against his ear, a reoccurring event during sex, one he always hoped would come up at some point.
Just the memory of it had him shiver and curl his toes, cock throbbing like you were actually there, above him, like you always did when you wanted to truly milk him dry to the last drop.
He tried to pretend the hand tugging at his cock was yours, but the desperate way he stroked himself was too different from your usual sensual slowness, the illusion not fully forming.
His pinky applied pressure to the base, circling it as best as he could, whilst his index and thumb formed a tight ring around the sensitive tip, just like you did for him once you'd noticed he liked the combination of the two.
His body tensed and his hips rose again, beads of precum forming and slowly dripping from the top of his slit all the way down to the base, pearlescent cum that he would've wanted to stuff inside your mouth, instead of wasting it like that.
Groans turned into huffing as the pleasure was always just shy of the threshold of his orgasm, he needed you so badly it hurt.
He turned to the side, trying to chase some friction with the bedsheets, biting his lip to avoid moaning your name.
He felt so embarrassed, as if he was a teenager all over again, and you were the cause of his suffering. For years he hadn't felt the familiar ache of longing, but after you came along it became a constant background thought.
He needed you, he needed to grasp your hips as he rut into you, he needed to hear every sound that left your pretty lips as he pleasured you, mark every single inch of your soft skin and still, he would crave more and more.
Your name left his lips in a broken sound, his back arched as his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head.
And like that you found him, calling his name the first time with a hint of surprise in your voice, but he didn't, or perhaps couldn't, hear you.
The gentle cradling of his cheek almost made him jump, but as he put your face to focus he felt torn between embarrassingly try to explain himself or beg you for help.
Your lips met his neck and, just like his earlier fantasies, your familiar "Oh Dima...dear" was uttered by the shell of his ear.
His cock wept and throbbed, and as your hands slowly made their way across his torso, just like your praise to his brain, he finally came, hand over his mouth not to let out too loud of a moan.
His breath was heavy, and it hitched as your hand grabbed his wrist and started cleaning up the mess on his palm with your mouth.
The familiar sensation of your lips on his cock brought him out of his post-orgasm stupor, with it becoming painfully hard again.
"Now, I can't leave you with this, can I?"
He spread his legs to give you space as the electric sensation of you made his mind go blank.
He was in it for a wonderful night, wasn't he?