Quickie: Because They Could - by RedBud

[Was called - Because He Could]

	He watched her slowly wake up.
	Their mattress was on the floor. It was Saturday morning. He didn’t have to hurry. She didn’t have to.
	She stretched, unaware that he was watching. He enjoyed the feeling of his cock filling and stiffening. He wasn’t dressed. He was sitting naked on a canvass camping chair and just sitting naked, with nowhere to go.  The chair was all they could afford, along with a few other pieces of “furniture”.  They had only moved into the apartment during the week. This was their first week-end. Just watching his girlfriend was enough to make his cock ache. He had never been able to just enjoy his girlfriend, naked, letting her see the effect she was having on him.
	Their lovemaking had been unpredictable. They did it wherever they could. If their parents were away, then they had a house to themselves but not often. Sometimes they did it in the car. They liked to go on hikes and they would have sex in the woods. The sex was quick, half clothed, and desperate for release. It had always been too long since their last.
	Now they lived together. He could have her anytime he wanted. He loved her short blonde hair, her quick gray eyes. He watched her stretch again, marveling at the shape of a young woman’s body, stunned by what she stirred in him, her rounded hips, fuller and rounder than a man’s, the way her back curved when she stretched, the way her V disappeared between her thighs when she arched (and he knew where what was appearing behind her) and the invitation of her breasts, full, firm, rising and falling, her nipples hard, the muscular crease dividing her breasts, down her abdomen and to her sex, her narrow waste, every part of her in the perfect proportion of a young woman. The fierceness of his desire brought his cock up hard against his belly button.
	Every part of her called to him, compelled him to do things to another person that he never dreamed of, not so long ago, as a child.
	The last sheet slipped off of her and she looked up at him sleepily, then smiled. She saw his cock, glanced at it, and returned her gaze to him, her smile. His stomach thrilled. He still wasn’t used to being naked in front of a woman, let alone letting her see how she aroused him. But now she could see. He didn’t hide it. He didn’t hide the way he looked at her - her tits, her ass, her lips, her hips and legs. She was like a different species. Her lips, her fingers and toes, ‘everything’ was different from him, and yet every difference inflamed him - he would do so many things to ‘her’.
	And they could do it all day. They ‘would’ to it all day. What else was there to do? Wasn’t that why their bodies were the way they were? He wanted to fuck her and fuck her and fuck her. They were living together. Finally. They could be adults. If they wanted to spend the whole day fucking, they could. He stared at her ass as she languorously stood. Her every movement emphasized her femininity and his own masculinity. Her movements: graceful, supple; and his: angular and muscular.  She stood, standing with her back to him. She glanced back at him, her little hands in fists by the side of her hips and she stretched again. She gracefully walked out of the room, stepping lightly over sheets and clothes and the bowls they had eaten from as they watched TV in bed – the freedom to do whatever they wanted.
	It was ‘their’ apartment’. Every room was theirs and they could do anything they wanted in every room. She walked into the bathroom and he stood, following her. His cock bobbed heavily in front of him. She had left the door open.  She was sitting on the toilet, peeing. The way she sat with her slender legs slightly parted, her tummy arched as she peed, her breasts pushed forward. Everything she did inflamed him. Her lips parted, almost imperceptibly,  as she looked at his cock and looked at him. He stepped forward and his cock slipped between her lips. She sucked. There was no reason not to. They were alone in their own apartment. She opened her legs as she sucked and her hand moved between her legs.
	He stepped away, the pleasure almost unbearable, almost. His cock slipped out of her beautiful mouth. Saliva strung her chin. She wiped it away and smiled. She stood, gracefully, and washed her hands. She leaned her hip against the lip of the counter, forcing her back to arch and her ass to jut out toward him. Her pussy appeared from between her legs, the dark furrow forced slightly open by her posture. She glanced at his cock in the mirror, with a knowing smile. Her tits hung forward. Every curve of her body called to him, made his cock stretch, ready to be put into the place it was made to penetrate. She touched up her eyebrows and lips. He put his hands on her hips, her ass, and felt its slender roundness. No, why hurry?
	She glanced at him and pushed him out of the way, her hip brushing hard against his cock. He wondered if it was a turn-on for her. He followed her into the living room. He wondered if she enjoyed her nudity as much as he did. Was it as much of a turn-on for her to be naked in front of a man, in her own apartment, letting a man see her, every part of her, everything she did? -  being able to watch the effect her body had on him? - being able to watch his cock swell and lengthen, desperate for ‘her’, to be inside her body. Did she want his cock insider her as much as he ached to put it in? He wondered at the same lust that was so different inside their different bodies.
	There was so much time. There was a whole day. He watched her slender body, the way her ass gracefully swayed. He had gazed at her ass so many times with blue jeans on, covered up, imagining what she would look like if he could only have a day like today.
	He followed her into the kitchen. Neither had spoken to each other yet. She opened the refrigerator door, and bent over looking in the vegetable tray. How many times had he watched her bend over? They had been with their parents or with friends or in public and every time he had imagined what her ass would look like, and imagined filling her sex. Her pussy was perfect, wet, and open - forced upward and open again - there, between her thighs, just at the height of his cock - made that way. He had always imagined simply fucking her. And he did. He pushed his cock down and slid into her, firmly, completely, until the entirety of his cock was sheathed inside her. Her head snapped back. She groaned, loudly. This was their apartment. They were alone. She braced herself against the open refrigerator and pushed back against him. Sex was still new to him.  He still couldn’t believe a woman would let him do this to her. He couldn’t believe she would put his cock in her mouth. He couldn’t believe she would bend over like this for him and let him ‘inside’ her body. Him.
	He drew back and thrust. She gasped and moaned. Free. Unafraid to be heard. He needed to fuck her. He held her by her small round hips and he fucked her. He growled and groaned. Everything about her was soft and yielding. And the softest, warmest, wettest  and most yielding place was in her belly, caressing his cock, massaging it, squeezing it. She was crying out with every thrust. This is what he wanted to hear. God, yes. He could listen to her cries all day long. He would.				
	“Fuck me,” she groaned. “O fuck yes! Right here. Right fucking now.”
	He was always too young or the girls were too beautiful. But now it was him that a woman was bending over for, his cock in her body. She was giving him her womb and she was having an orgasm on ‘his’ cock. She screamed, for him, in their apartment. Her contractions were too much. He held himself deep inside her and groaned helplessly and loudly as she milked him. And he emptied his fluids into her, spurt after spurt, just where they were meant to go. What would her parent’s think?
	He looked down at her narrow waist, her smooth back, the feminine curve of her spine, his cock still filling her. All day long. He would fuck her all day long. He would cum in her mouth, in her pussy, on her tits. He would do everything he had always dreamed of doing, all things he had masturbated imagining. He could do them to her. He wasn’t going soft. He slowly, reluctantly, pulled himself out of her, slick, covered with their combined cum. He wouldn’t clean himself. There was no reason to. He was going to fuck her again. Cum dripped from her pussy and spattered the floor between her feet as she stood - ‘his’ cum.  She looked back at him without turning. She saw that he was still hard, that this man desired her more than any other woman alive. She closed the refrigerator door, leaned against it, arching her ass and pussy towards him.
	She almost shouted  her penetration. 
	He fucked her again. It was what she wanted. He fucked her  because he could.