No Labels

I felt his hand on my chest. "What...what are you doing?" I asked him, moaning softly.

"They're getting sensitive, aren't they?" he asked, rubbing my nipple.

"Yes, but, oh god," I moaned as he gently rubbed my nipple between his fingers. "Scott..."

"Shhh," he said, moving closer. I jumped when I felt him, the hard, warm, thick protrusion that I knew was a man's erect cock.

"Scott, I...I told you...I...I'm not...I'm not gay."

"I didn't ask," he said, cupping my budding breasts, pushing me over.

I felt his cock against the back of my ass, against my panties. "Scott," I whispered, voice half begging him to stop, half begging him not to. I felt him pull his underwear aside, felt his erection rubbing on me through my panties.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

Yes, yes, yes, my brain screamed, but shocking myself, it was the word no that escaped my lips.

I felt him pull my panties aside, heard him squeeze something in his hands. I felt him press against me, the tip of his cock on my, wet, covered in lube. "Just relax," he said, pushing the head forward, into me, "just relax."

"Scott," I moaned as he entered me, split me, filled me, "I...I'm not gay."

"No labels, no labels. Just relax, no labels."