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Jun 26th, 2016
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  1. <i>Rey kisses her way up the back of Poe’s shoulder blade and over the soft curve to his neck, her hot breath and soft lips nuzzling him awake.
  2.  
  3. “Good morning,” she murmurs, and her small hand tip-taps around his waist and down the plane of his belly below his navel to follow the line of dark, coarse hair until she can tuck her fingers under the waistband of his soft sleep pants. “Mmm,” she moans, teeth tugging at his earlobe playfully. “A very good morning.”
  4.  
  5. She wraps her hand around his cock still inside his pajamas and under the blankets, the whole morning very dark and soft and made of feeling. The calluses on her palm seem to fit him perfectly, tightening her grip just right and making Poe rock against her wrist and fingers as she laves her hand in a circle over the fat, sensitive head to gather up a slick of precome for the slide back down again to the root.</i>
  6.  
  7. Poe moans into the feeling. <i>Rey’s hand is so warm, the pressure perfect.
  8.  
  9. “I dreamed about this cock while you were gone,” Rey murmurs. “I touched myself thinking about it. But I knew you’d come back for me.” She kisses his ear. “My brave pilot.” Her teeth raise goosebumps down Poe’s neck and his nipples pebble up. “You always come back for me.”
  10.  
  11. Her thumb draws down over the thrumming vein along his cock and Poe grunts. “Maybe I’ll try sucking it later,” Rey muses, and Poe’s face flushes icy-hot. “But that’s not what I want right now.” Her mouth is soft and warm and promising when she kisses the back of Poe’s neck. “Just sit back and relax.”
  12.  
  13. Poe feels like he’s still moving in a dream, so warm and comfortable and sleepy in a bed that smells like Rey’s hair and his own heady sleep-smell, as familiar as anything has ever been. He pushes his sleeping pants down to his knees and under the sheets, his toes flex to pull them the rest of the way off. His legs are still hidden under the orange blankets, warm and cocooned away.
  14.  
  15. Rey doesn’t still doesn’t face him as she moves over his lap. Her hair hangs loose down to only just past her shoulders, mussed and sticking up at the cowlick in back from Poe’s pillows, and he reaches up to smooth it down gently, letting his hands trace the line along down her neck and to her shoulders, the long curve of her back.
  16.  
  17. She’s wearing that damn white t-shirt, Poe’s t-shirt, and it doesn’t reach further than halfway down her ass. He can see the cute round of it below the hem, the intimate way it connects to her strong thighs. It still </i>clings<i>.
  18.  
  19. Poe can hear the wet sound of her fingers dipping into herself, and he wishes he could see. Maybe later. He sweeps her hair over one shoulder so that he can gently tug the neck of the white t-shirt aside enough to kiss the freckled place where her neck becomes her shoulder, and Rey rewards him with a happy moan and a lean back into his chest.
  20.  
  21. Rey’s sticky fingers wrap around the base of Poe’s cock to hold it still, and then there is just </i>warmth<i> and </i>wet<i> and the grasping flicker-flutters of her insides as Rey sinks down onto Poe in one smooth roll like she’s done this a thousand times.
  22.  
  23. “Oh,” Rey breathes. “I’ve needed this.”
  24.  
  25. She rocks slightly, circling and settling, making little throaty noises that send jolts of heat up Poe’s spine. He pushes his hands under the thin material of her t-shirt and runs his palms up the length of her back, feeling old scars and soft skin and strong muscles and less bone than he was afraid he would find under his fingertips. She is blazing warm, the temperature of sleep, still, and the dust-sweat scent of her is strong in Poe’s nose as he tips his face into her hair.
  26.  
  27. Rey’s thighs squeeze against the sides of Poe’s as she lifts herself up and starts to fuck him in earnest. It’s still slow and syrupy, more feeling than frenzy, but Poe still bites a toothed curse into the back of her head as she pulls almost all the way off of him so that the ridge of his head is teased with sucking-hot kisses from her inner lips as she bounces just an inch at a time, on and off, on and off.
  28.  
  29. “I like this part,” Rey explains in a deeper voice than before, pulling off just to roll down onto the head again. “When you just open me up. I get so excited to be full of you.”
  30.  
  31. “Fuck,” Poe mutters into her hair again. Under the blankets, his ankles flex and his toes crack, all of him tingly and singing. “Where’d you learn to talk like that?”
  32.  
  33. Rey finally slides down, down, down again, taking him deeper than before, her bum settling contentedly against his hips and thighs as she curves back to rest her head on his shoulder. Poe trails his fingers around the cage of her ribs and tickles her a little just because he can—and wants to feel the way it makes her squirm on top of him, all around him—until he can cup her breasts under the shirt, too.
  34.  
  35. “You,” Rey says, matter-of-fact, her eyes closed as Poe’s thumbs finally get to sweep across her nipples. She moans high in her throat as Poe runs his thumbnails over the puffy tips to make them stand out more, sensitive and fat and round for him to play with as she circles her hips to take him in up, down, around, up, down around.
  36.  
  37. “Me, huh?” Poe breathes against her ear. Her eyes are closed, every line of her body open and trusting in his arms. “I bet you’ve learned a lot from my mouth.”
  38.  
  39. “Mm,” Rey agrees. “I expect you to clean me up after this. You and your smart mouth.”
  40.  
  41. Poe’s cock jolts at that, and he lifts his hips to help push up into Rey at a better angle, a little harder, even if they’re still moving slow and lazy to draw it out and build and build. Rey arches, her chest pressing up into his hands as one of her arms drapes up to frame her face as she winds her fingers through Poe’s messy morning curls as scratches just right.
  42.  
  43. Poe is going to come. He can feel it hot in his groin, between his thighs, in the way his heartbeat speeds up fast under his ribs. He keeps tugging lightly at one of Rey’s nipples, rolling it sweetly under his knuckles, but he wants—he needs—to get his other hand down to where they’re rocking together so he can feel out how close and wet she is and help her along, too.
  44.  
  45. Under the thin white t-shirt, Poe’s hand caresses down across Rey’s ribs.
  46.  
  47. And over the warm, firm curve of a belly thick with Poe’s baby, just big enough that he can feel the taut new stretch of her hot skin and the new weight lying cradled between her hipbones.</i>
  48.  
  49. “<i>Shit</i>,” Poe hisses, and then his mouth is full of sweaty blankets and fiberfill because of course, of course he’s fucking alone in his bed and he comes hard and fast and sharp against the mattress.
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