Disclaimer: I do not own the SWAT kats and use them without permission, make no money out of this and do not mean to offend anyone.
He holds me
He holds me. Not hard, not pinning me down, not forcing. Just steady and close. It's kind of soothing, even though the rest of this scares the living daylight out of me.
I love him. Of course I do, otherwise I'd never let him do this. I just don't love him the way he loves me. I close my eyes and bite my lip and I know I'm too tense, way too tense.
He strokes my shoulder and mumbles something in my ear that I can't quite catch. I turn my head and glance at him.
"I said: I won't hurt you."
No Chance, I don't think you will. Or at least I think he'll do his best not to.
I don't try my luck on a smile, I don't want it to turn into a snarl, as I turn away from him again.
I wonder if he's big. Oh, get a grip Jake, you've been showering with this guy a thousand times! You know exactly how big he is.
Bigger than me anyhow.
Did you look at me in the shower? You must have. Why does that not bother me? Maybe 'cause noone has has ever looked at me that way before, the way you did tonight. Little skinny Jake didn't feel so skinny and outcast anymore.
He's shifting against my back, bringing me back to the present. One of his paws strokes my chin and hesitantly moves down over my throat before it reaches my shoulder. He begins to rub me softly, melting away the knots and tensions in my neck and back. I duck my head to give him more space and try to breathe calm and level like we learnt in combat training.
It's not like we haven't slept in the same bed before. The first night we spent here after having discovered the poor state of the house, completley neglected by Burke and Murray, we had only one bed. Too proud to call any of our parents we spent the night together. And it's not like we never touch either, and not only when we fight. But if this has been going on for a long time he's damn good at hiding his feelings. Or am I going blind?
One of his large hands caress my chest down to my stomach, again and again. I watch his striped arm from under half-closed eye-lids. So much muscle – he could easily take whatever he wants when he has me down like this. But he won't, and that's why I can stay.
From my stomach he continues down my thighs and knees. His legs press against the back of mine. His fur is soft and warm, longer than mine and finer in quality. Must've been easy for him to get a girl in highschool. Or a guy, I guess.
He's aroused I can tell, not only from the scent that surrounds us.
A finger touches me under my tail. I bury my face in the pillow. It's OK. I know it is. I want to get my pants on, I want to run away, I want to do this.
I want to do this. If I like it, that's fine. If I don't...
Suddenly the finger is slick as he strokes me, the air feels cooler than last time when he sticks his hand out from under the covers to wipe it. Then his fingers comb through my fringe.
The other paw slowly scratches me behind my ear and strokes my cheek and temple. The fur on my shoulder gets smoothened and his caresses continue down my chest.
He's purring in my neck. Funny, no matter how stressed you are, it's hard not to purr when someone else does.
I feel like a kitten when he slipps into me. Younger than ever before, like twenty years or more of my life just disappeared. But he is right. It doesn't hurt, it's not even unpleasant.
I pull his arms tighter around me and feel him gently squeeze me in response. It's accually kind of nice, and the more I relax the better it gets. Good enough to do again? I don't know, it's too early for that kind of questions.
He grunts in my neck as he comes and for a moment he just lies there, breathing, before he carefully pulls out. Not once does his arms let go of me, and that feels good. I'm very tender right now.