a wonderful foreigner // mélovin.

eight *

The wait to arrive home and see him was nearly exhausting. You had so many things in mind but you were nearly blinded to the fact that you're tired, so tired, from the train ride. Listening to children crying, the staffs trying to reason with immature people and grandmothers complaining to each other and talking about new EU standards of cremation was the very last thing you needed. And then you recall, you're probably not even close to exhausted as Konstantin. He had to travel for hours on a plane, and then manage through the airport customs and everything.

But despite all of that, Konstantin and you made a deal to meet up at his place on the 30th of December, around five o' clock in the afternoon, to relax and share experiences. Nothing better than a bottle of white wine and just listening to him talk for hours, about everything and noting. Hearing his soft yet strong accent lingering through your ears and slipping in a few foreign words that were just too adorable from his lips. You arrive maybe 15 minutes late, you knew he wouldn't mind. You had to get to you apartment first and leave some stuff behind, why would you struggle with your entire suitcase at a time you were supposed to relax? With some fumbling and looking for the spare key of his apartment, you enter the space cautiously, but you were welcomed with something absolutely gorgeous that you did not seen coming.

The light was dimmed, with the help of few candles around the dining room table. Rose petals sprinkled around the hardwood floor, with no direction or any other purpose but to look good. And there he was, standing in all his glory, in a bathrobe, with a rose in his mouth and a bottle of wine in his right hand. "Join me." He says in broken pronunciation, making you just giggle.

He drew a warm bubble bath that smelled something like roses and cotton candy. Some bubbles leaking over the white tiles and several I guess remaining rose petals thrown at random places in the bathroom. And at one point he claimed he wasn't romantic. And with each others' help and loads of silenced giggles you both enter the bath. The warm liquid swallowing around your frame, wonderfully accompanied by the bath salts melting near the bottom of your spine. Just as you were about to rest your arm on the wall of the tub, he grabs your cheeks so he could connect his lips with yours, finally, after all those days. You tasted a bit alcohol on his lips, perhaps he waited too long for you to arrive so he began without you.

You gently lace your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss. He grazed his fingers slowly over your cheek, moving them gently down to hold your neck. As he does so, you shift your hand back slightly, feeling his face in your right hand. You smile, opening your eyes to look at him. Just enjoying the sight and the feel of the sharp roads of hair forming over his chin and jaw line. You both wanted to pull away and didn't, at the same time. Feeling him absolutely being in control of how your face will stand was quite thrilling. But eventually he's the one that breaks the moment, reaching behind his back to take a cigarette.

The eagerness building up in your stomach, feeling quite giddy as the smell and exhaled smoke hits your face. With a cheeky smile you scoff a bit closer, and Konstantin places the filter of the cigarette in front of your lips. You wrap them around the stick, taking in the smoke and allowing it to circle around your throat, as you inhale the toxicity that you for some reason enjoy. He opens his left arm, inviting you to lean against his chest and you do, letting your eye lids rest half way. Oh how you enjoyed his warmth. He always smelled like hard caramel candy and tobacco. But the high quality hard candy, not the ones grandmothers buy to share to all children they see. The good caramel, that hinds mint around its barriers and ravishes your entire mouth. As you turn your face to the right, looking up at him, admiring every single feature. Making you wonder yet again how are you so lucky. Once you take another puff of the toxic stick you let your fingers play over his chest, drawing random patterns and rolling your pinkie over and around his chest hair. At one moment you went a bit overboard and Kostya hisses at the odd feeling of the hair getting pulled, but he chuckles. Then plants a big kiss to your forehead.

The next day was a pure bliss. Since it was a day before new year it was a day off. It ended up being filled with conversations about absolutely nothing. That day you've also decided to share your obsession with mashed potatoes with Konstantin. Teaching him how to make it the right way. Not completely mashed, with half cooked peas and butter. But the best moments were those that happened completely spontaneously. And one happened during lunch, as you were eating the mentioned potatoes. Your clumsy self dropped the spoon. And after several seconds of groaning and silly feeling of slight disappointment, you kneel down under the table. And how did the spoon end up completely on the other side next to your boyfriend's feet was beyond you. You crawl like a child, approaching the spoon, but once you took the spoon different thoughts rumbled across your mind. I mean you were there, right between his legs, and all you could think of was how good you could make him feel.

You take a hold of his bottom trainers, making him stir his feet in surprise but he realises what's on your mind pretty quickly. In a swift move you pull them down, just letting them rest like that on his ankles. With your knees you approach a bit closer, letting your fingers dart over his still cloth covered length, rubbing small circles on his tip. But once you finally rid his underwear, letting them join the trainers down there, you take him in your hands, giving a few light strokes.

Whilst admiring his cock, you gently stroke with a bigger thug, letting the foreskin reveal more of his tip. You plant a big kiss on the main shaft, then on its right side, letting your eye lids sink completely just purely enjoying the feeling of his skin against your lips.

Once you've given an admiring treatment, you wrap your lips around the tip of his length, suckling gently and doing your best to make at least half of him disappear in your mouth. You earn a groan from him, the excitement and feeling of what he's about to receive making him slide his fingers down your hair, tugging on the locks as gently as he could. But eventually you manage to get him all in, deep throating completely and feeling the shaft rub against your pink throat.

He tugs on your hair a bit tighter, asking for more. And you obey soon enough, pulling away just a bit so you can pay attention to the tip again, sucking and beginning to move your head, bobbing, and darting your lips over the cock's side. After a few seconds, you finally find your pace and whilst doing it steadily you continue to please him, enjoying all sorts of sounds that are coming from his throat. He cusses a few Ukrainian words, to whose you have already gotten used to over the time. And that just simply makes you fasten your pace. The eagerness to please him growing more, so you start stroking the base, parts your lips cannot reach. You let your palm rest on his inner thigh, your knees starting to hurt but you couldn't bother to care. The skin on them already grazed and damaged on the wooden floor.

Once you've finally felt his lenght twitch in between your mouth, you stroke his base a bit faster, causing him to completely relive himself, relising his warm white juices into your throat. This year couldn't end better.