Austin Carillo was a poor trailer park boy with a heart of pure gold.
“You ready, Pix?” Austin asked, and I nodded slowly.
Placing the golden condom packet in his mouth, Austin began pulling down the waistband of his jeans, fully revealing his black boxer briefs.
Heat accosted my entire body as I admired his built and perfectly muscled frame, his hair still slightly ruffled from where I had raked it with my fingers, and the large bulge underneath the boxers.
Swallowing loudly, Austin hooked his fingers in the edge of his boxers and slowly began to pull them down too.
I couldn’t remove my eyes as he revealed himself to me, and I could tell he was nervous as he cast a shy glimpse up at me through impossibly long ebony lashes.
Austin began to approach me, and I followed the flow of a thigh-length tattoo of two hands clasped together in prayer, a delicate rosary falling from the intertwined fingers. I was more nervous than ever.
Kneeling on the floor at my feet, the condom now clutched in his hand, Austin began crawling over my body, his tense-with-need face meeting mine. The side of his bottom lip sucked in at the edge as his eyes hooded with pleasure.
Brushing a piece of hair back off his face, I saw that my hand was shaking. So did Austin, and catching my hand in his, he brought it to his lips. “You ready, Pix?” he asked through a tight voice, and I felt the brush of his long erection against my bare thigh.
Nodding my head, unable to speak, Austin rose to his knees, ripping the condom packet with his teeth, and rolled the latex on himself.
Taking each one of my hands, he threaded his fingers through mine and brought them above my head, adjusting his strong thighs between mine.
Austin stared into my eyes as he braced himself at my entrance, and my heart boomed in my chest like a drum. With a soft kiss on my lips, Austin pushed forward, his fingers tightening around mine, his lips moving faster, almost as if to distract me from the sudden rush of fullness.
Then he stopped, breathing lightly against my mouth, not uttering one word. Releasing his fingers from mine, he caged his arms around my head, elbows to the rug, almost like he was protecting me from what was to come.
Gritting his teeth, he pushed forward, and I winced as a sharp pain sliced through my lower half. Austin stilled as he filled me completely, and I focused on his rapid heartbeat against my naked breasts, his heavy breathing in my ear, and my tense legs began to relax.
Austin’s right hand drifted down my side until he gripped my thigh, hooking it over his bent arm. With his head still tucked in the crook between my neck and shoulder, he began rocking forward in a slow and steady rhythm.
Soon, the pain seemed to fade away, and as Austin picked up speed, a new kind of pressure built at my spine. I clung to the damp skin of Austin’s back just to anchor myself from lifting off the floor.
Small whimpers began slipping from my lips, and Austin groaned in response.
As my nails dug into Austin’s back, he raised his head, his hair falling forward to lay across his forehead in an adorable way, and his eyes grew laden as he gazed into mine.
“Austin…” I murmured and arched my back as a feeling so fierce bolted through my body.
A low growl rustled in Austin’s chest, and his hips thrust harder and faster, until my lips parted and a feeling so indescribable possessed my body, seizing any semblance of rational thought from my mind.
I shattered into tiny pieces.
I was weightless.
I fought to cling to Austin, and I met his dark eyes just as they squeezed shut and his mouth gaped. As Austin’s body stilled, his muscles corded and a low hiss slipped from between his full lips.
With shaking arms, Austin fell on top of me, his hands still braced at my sides and our bodies slick with sweat. Rolling my eyes north, I could see the full moon shining in through the clear pane of the skylight, and I could once again make out the crackled sounds of burning wood as my head began to clear.
Moments later, Austin raised his head and stared at me for what seemed like an eternity. Eyes glistening, he asked softly, “Why the war paint, Pix?” His thumb wiped at my cheek, and it was then I realized I was crying.
Glancing away, feeling as though he were speaking directly to the deepest part of my soul, I said, “Because I want to be someone else. Someone who’s not me.”
Austin flinched as though I’d wounded him, and he replied, “That’s not the full reason. You’re still hiding who you are from me. There’s some other reason. Something bigger.”
My heart flipped. I wanted to tell him the real reason, but I just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t even admit it to myself yet. So I simply hushed out, “But it’s the only one I can give you right now.”