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He's so nervous, he's practically shuddering at your every touch.
Herman had gotten far better at kissing, the last time resulting in him accidentally spitting water right into your mouth, waterboarding you for a few seconds and leaving you sputtering. He's only secreting water through his skin now, the nervousness and excitement providing reason to leak through his wetsuit as you trail hands along his skinny-yet-firm arms with tongues locking together in a messy kiss. Particularly shaky he becomes, when you start to fiddle with the zipper at the throat of the loud yellow-and-blue garment keeping his body hidden from your prying eyes. Perhaps the way you've been looking at him is reflected in the way he follows your fidgeting fingers with his own, stopping you in your tracks from just grabbing the damn thing and pulling it down.
"Uh— I—," Herman starts, deep, heaving breaths fanning across your brow bone, "I've never, uh— you know— done any of th-"
"Yeah, I know, I had to teach you how to kiss, remember?" You tease him lightly, noting the way his already-pink cheeks redden further at the reminder. He lets a shaky, slightly terror-filled laugh in response while his hand stays hovering on your own. "Relax." You practically command, and the deer-in-headlights look stays on his face despite his obedience in immediately tearing his hand away to rest awkwardly at his side.
In an attempt to ease his overactive nerves, you press open-mouthed kisses to his jaw as you finally get a firm grip on the slippery zipper, pulling it down enough to reveal a sliver of the lithe, toned chest underneath. "You been working out?" You tease between those kisses, wet lips cracking into a grin in anticipation for his response.
"Yeah, I- I- I mean, I have to," he takes the rhetorical question between uneasy gnawing at his own bottom lip, "to— to be a super— a hero, y'know?"
"Yeah, I know."
The droplets that glisten on his thick eyebrows and along his cheekbones highlight his face perfectly under the low light of the dingy ceiling lamp- could it even be sweat layered among the pure water that seeps from his pores and drenches the ginger hair stuck to his forehead? It doesn't matter, you decide, leaning in with closed eyes to assault his thin lips with a mix of licks and bites, eliciting the faintest whimper- no, more like a shocked 'eep'- from a particularly rough nip at his bottom lip. The water drips down your mouth, along your chin, all the way to the dip of your shirt's neckline.
Herm is shaking a bit more when you finally make work of pushing the top half of the wetsuit beyond his shoulders, prying his slick upper arms from the wet nylon covering them. The suit is now bunched around his waist, bare torso and arms finally showing and making him shiver as the cool air of the plastic-wrapped bedroom makes contact with his body. His skinny frame looks absolutely lovely- vulnerable, unblemished, hydrated skin glistening, but it looks even better once your exploratory hands make contact and trail up his ribs, past his chest, all the way up to wrap around him at the nape of his neck.
"How's that?" You finally break the silence, staring up into those light blue eyes with pure adoration. He's still looking back at you like he's been placed under a microscope, but there's at least something in his gaze that suggests relief now that he's exposed so much of himself to you.
"It- It's fine, yeah, uh—" And, there he is, reacting with that twitchiness that had been so suspiciously absent in the past few moments of quiet.
"More descriptive words, please."
Herman looks absolutely tortured at the concept, but pushes it down nonetheless. "I- I definitely like it," he starts, while you work at kissing down his neck, his breath quickening once more, "I l-love it." He admits it readily once you loosen him up with those same gentle bites, pressed to his throat this time. A satisfied smirk pressed to his collarbone causes a breath to hitch in his throat. "T-Take something off too? Uh, if— if you want?"
His sheepish attempt at a demand is immediately met with compliance from you, shirt lifted above your head in mere seconds to appease the tension attacking his wildly-running thoughts. The absolute awe is apparent in the way his eyes rake across your now-bare chest, his thoughts silenced by the pulses that obviously make their way through his body down to his dick, still constrained under that too-tight wetsuit. Herman was already painfully hard, noticeable each time his groin brushed against your body, but you could swear it looks like it's twitching underneath the nylon now.
Your breath is hot against his ear now, pulling him tight to your own body, and you can feel him quiver when you start to whisper- "I bet you'd feel even better, if we got this stupid thing off you."
Herm almost looks like he wants to be embarrassed at the suggestion his wetsuit looks ridiculous, but he's seemingly more interested in the fact that you're in his face telling him you want the rest of his clothes off.
Once you're starting to peel the layer down off of his bottom half, he looks like he's about to explode.
"Come on, hurry," you tease, encouraging him to undress himself by bringing his hands to each of his hips. He nods like his life depends on his answer, allowing you to step back and undress yourself until you're stark naked.
By the time Herman looks up from his task, suit bunched around his ankles, he's met with the sound of plastic crinkling under your weight. Aside from the feeling of being under a spotlight, what stops him in his tracks is the sight of you, half-sitting on his bed, completely bare and spread out.
"Wow, uh, you— you look…" Herm's sheepish voice doesn't match his physique, standing at his gargantuan height over you, sizeable dick practically staring right at you, but it fits him all the same- it takes a lot to stifle the giggles that are desperate to bubble from your throat.
"I look what, Waterboy?"
"N-Nice! Uh, great. You look-" he seems to cut himself off before spouting yet another lackluster compliment, affected by the way his head spins at the sight of you. Before you can even launch into one more teasing comment at him, he surprises you. Long strides approaching, wet palm placed on one of your thighs desperately. He nearly kneels once he reaches you, but instead, you pull him by his arms back up towards you, forcing him to hover over your now-laying figure.
"You look pretty damn good yourself." He looks at you like you've just blown his mind with the compliment. "Kiss me?" You say it as a question, but he knows better than to leave it up to himself. He follows your command, nearly pressing his body onto yours as he leans in for yet another session of messy kisses. "You've gotten good at this…" you practically whisper breathlessly between sucks of lip and tongue. Something about that sends a surge of confidence, resulting in a most unexpected roll of his slender hips against your core. The mix of surprise and pleasure from it knocks a light gasp from your mouth, and he reels back as if he's just fucked everything up.
"Come back." You demand, before he can sputter out a myriad of apologies for a perceived fault. And come back, he does, with that dripping wet mouth back on you, slobbing along your jaw and the corner of your lips. His movements are nearly frantic, following the path he was attempting from the start, so eager to relieve himself.
"C-Can I, uh—" Herm is losing his bravado as he nears the next base, his grasp on the English language shown in the way he can't even get his request out, "is- is it okay if I—"
"Yes," you assure him, spreading your legs further and beckoning with your hips towards his own pelvis, "anything."
By the time he's lining himself up with your entrance, your own body is soaking wet from his, the slick sliding of your limbs on each other's only adding to just how desperate it all feels. You could swear the world stopped once he finally breached you, the delicious dull sting from the stretch to start accommodating his size feeling more akin to bliss than pain.
Herman is still struggling, his shallow, unsure thrusts seeming more like a rabbit in heat than an exercise in real coitus. His hips stutter into you at an arrhythmic pace, and the scrunch of his eyebrows suggests frustrated concentration rather than pleasure.
"Herm…" you say, palm reaching to caress his dripping cheek, "Herm."
His hips stall instantly, and he's sporting that look again, the doe eyes staring into the grill of a semi. "S-S-Sorry, I—" he wants to start rambling again, but your thumb grazing along his bottom lip shuts him up.
"Slow down. Relax."
He swallows, dryly somehow, before scooping your thighs into each large palm. He's just full of surprises, gripping onto you for leverage as he starts again, a more sane pace overtaking. In fact, he inches in so slowly you can feel every bit of him as he bottoms out- a delightful sensation topped off with a brush of his pelvis against your clit. He's spaced out this time, a low, quiet groan leaving his slightly dropped-open jaw once he's started sliding in and out, still slowly.
"That's it," you half-moan, half-exclaim, "you can go faster."
It seems to take a moment for the rhythm to compute in his head as he picks up his pace, but he's lost in it by the time you reach down to rub circles on your perked clit. He probably doesn't even notice the soft moans that consistently fall from his lips, orchestral to your now-hazy senses. He won't last long, you can still surmise through the fog in your skull, he can't. He's so inexperienced, there's no way he-
A loud whimper snaps you out of that thought, confirming exactly what you were thinking- his dull nails dig into the flesh of your thighs, and his hips start stuttering again, and so do his words, burning straight to your core with adoration for the unbearably cute noise; "I-I'm s-sorry, that was—" he tries to pull away, but you lock your legs around his waist, "I didn't mean— that wasn't very, s-sexy?" He says it like a question, and who are you to leave him hanging?
"I love it. Keep going." Your breathless voice is all the encouragement he needs to bow his head in acceptance and return to his pace. The first few noises that come out again sound unsure, despite the reassurance- "tell me how good it is." You practically moan the sentence out, physical pleasure still not enough to completely sate you. In fact, it was a long time coming; the handsome boy-janitor with the silly goggles has finally sunken himself inside you, but won't allow himself to make his pleasure known through his sounds- unfair, you decide. "Tell me, Herm."
"I-It's really— it's so good…" he finally moans out through his panting, breathed directly into your own wanting mouth.
"How good?"
Herman doesn't know what else to do besides babble incomprehensibly, broken-up sentences like, 'please, I'm-' and, 'so good,' eyes glazed over in abject bliss as he buries himself to the hilt over and over. His strokes are long and deep, caging your body to the uncomfortable plastic-wrapped mattress underneath, and you nearly lose it once he's nuzzled his wet face into the crook of your neck to whimper pathetically in your ear. As his hips start to stutter once more, you can tell he's on the verge again.
"You're so good, Herm," your words reach him with a desperation of your own, half-panting and mostly moaned out. His sounds come out more frantic now.
"Ohmy- I- fuck," he's completely lost in it, lost in you, and his pelvis is pushing your hand down just a bit harder against your clit with every thrust. You're clenching around him now, whole body tightening with the pleasure this novice has somehow managed to dole out- it practically makes you ache in the pit of your stomach at the combination of whimpering and delirious titillation.
The biggest surprise- that tightening ball of knots inside you unravels itself without warning, surges of pleasure rolling through your body with bit-back cries that make Herman shudder above you. He's too hazy to even register what he'd done- making you come first before he reaches his climax.
"Herm, baby-" you whisper, fucked out and breathless on the bed, and he doesn't seem to hear you. He's still pressed on top of you, lull of broken-up moans and high-pitched whimpers reaching your ear no longer harmonized by your own sounds. The junction where your neck meets your shoulder is drenched. Instead of trying to get his attention once more, you wrap your arms around his upper torso, hands reaching for the nape of his neck and sliding on the warm water dripping there.
It only takes a few more seconds of those erratic thrusts for him to nearly stall all the way inside, his cock throbbing in your sensitive cunt. Immediately, you can feel the mixture of water and cum filling you to the brim, and his slowed thrusts are practically making it gush out of you. Somehow, you find your mind wandering in your post-orgasm haze while he's absolutely losing his mind- cleaning this up is going to suck for him. A particularly sweet moan snaps you back to the moment, and he's finally verbal again.
"D-Di- uh— Did I do good?" Herman asks breathlessly, still glued to your insides, and you can't hold back the genuine laugh that bursts out at the somehow still-unsure baby blue eyes.