The house is quiet, and you’re worried you’re not going to be able to stay awake much longer. It’s way past your bed time in your time zone. You snap to full attention at a small sound. You hadn’t heard a door open or close, but the hinges in the house didn’t squeak. That said, Earl had a good record of escaping undetected. You strain to hear. The sound of socked feet growing closer is unmistakable. Your door opens. Your heart rate quickens. You glance over and Earl’s body fills the door frame.
“Hi,” you whisper. “Wonderin’ where you were.”
“Sshh,” Earl replies. He drops his boxers on the floor. You throw back the sheets. He chuffs air through his nose, and you imply that he’s a bit surprised to see you’re already naked. You figured it wasn’t worth putting on pajamas this time when you had to waste time takin’ em off anyway.
You fetch the lube under your pillow and pass it into his hands. The sounds of him preparing himself excites you a lot. He tells you to turn over on your stomach, and tuck your legs under, with his voice barely above a whisper. Earl doesn’t give you any prep and you hiss as he fills you with one motion. You pull away at the sting of being stretched, but Earl has his hand where your pelvis meets your thigh to keep you against him and you don’t get far. Earl understands though, and gives you a moment to adjust.
The second your muscles relax he begins to move with purpose. You bite your lip to keep from crying out in pleasure – the discomfort mixed with the force he’s handling you with has made you almost uncomfortably erect. You sense Earl’s frustration by his suppressed grunts and staccato thrusts. He is trying to pour a year’s worth of lost time into your ass.
Earl’s hips collide against your backside with bruising force as he puts his load up you. A strained noise escapes his throat. You can hear him panting through nostrils that must be flared. Heat and wetness flood you like a fire hose. You can’t help but moan. Earl clasps at hand over your mouth, and gives you a few more thrusts while he deposits the rest of his seed. You moan in full against his palm, knowing it’ll be silenced.
The hand melts away. His cock slips out, leaving a ghost behind. Earl reaches for a tissue off the night stand; he wipes himself and tosses it on the bed next to you. Without a word, he gets up, puts on his boxers, and exits like a ninja into the dark.
You can hear his more audible steps now going down to the kitchen. That’s always been his cover story – that’s he’s up getting a drink of water. It’s worked so far. Your sister bought it the last time, when she woke up to find him gone.
You prop yourself up on one hand and finish yourself off because it feels like you’re going to combust. The sex is still just as good as when you were seniors in high school. You can’t wait for tomorrow night. Really puts the “cum” in “coming home for Christmas”.
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Captions are fictional.