Your shorts are short and I like it

Part 6: Date?

Dan's pov

"What did one marine mammal say to the other?" The gorgeous boy with more tattoos than colourful shirts asked, having told many jokes and all having done their job: make me smile.

"I really have no idea Phil, why don't you enlighten me?" I asked, very amused by his attempts at humour at five am, having woken up by me screaming from a nightmare.

"That's the sealiest thing I've heard!" I giggled while he smiled down at me, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Feeling better, bear?" He asked.

"Yes, and bear?" I questioned.

"Bear because your all cuddly and warm" he cooed, squishing my cheeks in his large hands.

I huffed out a sigh a rolled my eyes, secretly loving the attention from him that wasn't sexual.

"Wanna go on an adventure?" He asked me randomly, me partway through rolling over to go back to sleep.

"Sure, Phil, and while we're at it, wanna go do some handstands?" I shot back, knowing of his inability to be upside down.

"Shut it, you pastel goth" he mumbled, scratching at his happy trail.

He slid out of the lumpy bed and towards our bags, grabbing bundle of black clothes. He quickly threw some of the fabric at me, hinting very obviously for me to get dressed.

I slid on the velvet booty shorts and snorted when I saw he had given me his warm jumper. I shimmied into the thick item of clothing, loving how it flowed around me and made me feel like a princess.

I watched in the mirror as the raven haired young adult slid his hands around my waist, clutching me to his shirtless form.

He quickly began scattering marks across my neck, claiming me as his. He broke away very shortly after he was pleased with himself and threw on his pain shirt, pointing at our shoes.

In unison, we pulled on our trainers and laced up the laces, my sparkly silver laces a contrast to the deep black shoe surrounding it. He grabbed my hand and our wands and pulled me out of the inn.

We walked for ages, only stopping to kiss or hug, our hands clasped together the whole time. Soon, we arrived at the black lake.

He sat down on the damp grass and patted the ground next to him. I went to go sit down, but he yanked my waist last minute so I ended up sitting on him.

We said nothing, enjoying the silence.

We must have sat four hours, just basking in the peace and quiet that we rarely get due to N.E.W.T.S being around the corner.

Just by sitting with him, I started to like him more. I contemplated giving my virginity to him. Almost as if sending my thoughts, he quickly grew hard under me, by made no move to relieve himself.

All throughout our walk back to the Inn, he made no attempt at covering himself or trying to make it go away.

He climbed back into bed with me, still deep in thought, when I rolled on top of him and ground down onto him, rubbing my "phat ass" (as he liked to call it) over his cock.

He groaned out, still refusing to give me a physical reaction.

Within moments of me slowly grinding, he ended up flipping us over, biting at my thighs as he pulled my legs over his shoulders, the booty shorts having disappeared long ago.

He traced my virgin joke with his tongue, blowing air onto it. I whimpered at the feel, trying to grind my plush ass onto his face to feel more.

He simply slid a finger inside of my tight heat, allowing me no time to adjust before he was adding another with the help of his wet tongue.

Soon enough, I was a panting mess, drool dripping down my chin, moan after moan spilling from my lips while my Prince parts were aching with the need to cum. Phil redoubled his efforts, making me climax with no hassle over my previously unmarked stomach, before he slid up the bed, hovering his well endowed lower region in front of my face, jerking harshly at it.

"Wanna cum all over my face, big guy? Mark me?" I questioned, seeing him twitch. I opened my mouth, very aware of the strings of saliva that tried to scaffold a path between my lips, sticking my tongue out while closing my eyes.

I felt his hot seed wash over my face, my tongue lapping at the salty substance, craving more.

But he was spent, as was I. He found the damp wash cloth he kept by the side of the bed, knowing how lazy we are when we've climaxed and how quick our essence dries. He wiped down my face and stomach from where I came, gently kissing me afterwards while he spooned me from behind, pulling up the quilt over our naked bodies.

I fell asleep, sated and happy, only hoping he felt the same.