Twenty one

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Austin's eyes are blue, that's what Holi focuses on as he pushes into her. It's easy to get lost in them and while she shakes and shudders at every soft touch and calculated thrust, it's his eyes she connects herself to in this moment. She has never met anyone with eyes like his. While his exterior and chosen words are mostly controlled, his eyes give him away. She has seen them go from a stormy grey to an icy blue, even a lovely blue that reminds her of a summer's day. Right now they are dark blue and she knows it's because they are laced with lust.

A poem she read once in a poetry book she stole from a book shop comes to mind and she can't stop the giggle that rises in her chest. Austin raises an eyebrow in question. "Blue, blue, your heart is true," she whispers. Austin stops, scrunches his nose then sits up in a kneel between her legs, "are we those people now? The ones who recite poetry and have a special song?" he asks, his tone playful.

Holi sits up, impaling herself on him as she sinks into a straddle on his lap, "what would be so bad about that? We could be those people," she says as she draws up and sinks back down slowly, watching as her motions make Austin's eyes an even darker blue, "you had a fancy education, recite me a poem," she says as she again pulls up and sinks down again.

Austin squeezes his eyes shut, trying to get his brain working beyond the pull and drag of Holi on top of him, "um...lemonade crunchy ice, hit them once then hit them twice. Hit them at the top and hit them at the bottom. Hit them in the middle and watch them drop," he says. Holi stops and stares at him with big eyes and an open mouth, "what the fuck was that?" she asks then throws her head back as her laugh ripples out.

Austin starts laughing too then flips them so he is back on top of her, "that, my baby, is a football chant and it's about as poetic as you are going to get me," he says between chuckles. Holi widens her legs and wraps them around his waist, pulling him in again, "I will take you any way you come," she says before her breath is punched out as Austin thrusts back into her and bites her neck playfully.

Somewhere between their laughing, Holi's skin starts tingling and she starts chasing her orgasm as Austin grins down at her. Her back arches when it hits and Austin's fingers dig into her hips, "there she is," he mumbles as he follows her over the edge. They are both sweaty and got but Austin makes it even worse as he collapses on top of her as he comes down from his high.

Holi can feel her eyes grow heavy with sleep and so she shuts them, content to dream with Austin still draped over her. But then he sits up and pulls her out of bed, "oh no, no. I need to feed and water you. You skipped lunch, you will not be doing the same with dinner."

Holi grumbles under her breath while she dresses then lets Austin pull her out of the room and down to the kitchen. Holi does not know her way around a kitchen, she has never cooked anything in her life - unless you count putting bread in a toaster or a pie in a gas station microwave. Austin on the other hand is irritatingly good at everything he puts his hand to so Holi is a little wary of what to expect now.

"Please tell me you are going to warm up food your chef made," she says as Austin pushes her into one of the kitchen chairs. Austin bites his bottom lip and gives her a shit-eating grin, "never. I am going to cook a meal...from scratch," he says and walks off to the fridge. "Of course you are. How do you even know how to cook?" Austin stops rummaging and pops his head back out of the fridge, "my mom, she is the best cook in the world," he says then goes back into the fridge.

Holi frowns - that sounds like an exaggeration, "really? The entire world? Billions of people and she is the best?" she challenges him. Austin comes out of the fridge with his arms full of food and a bag of string cheese in his mouth. He knocks the fridge door closed with his foot and trots over to Holi, dropping the bag of cheese in her lap, "eat that while I cook," he says then moves over to the counter and dumps the food in his hands.

A thousand bad times - Post Malone Where stories live. Discover now