making ur pfp a pictue of ur favorite guy is great. the modern equivalent of some guy in the 50s pulling out his wallet and there being a picture of his wife inside and him sighing fondly at it
-> part 1
cw: 18+, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex
He kissed me, all familiar and equal, his lips falling between mine perfectly. He held my hips, gentle as he could, anchoring himself to me.
“Come on,” I murmured, lips still pressed to his. He took a breath of me, hands finding the small of my back. He pulled me closer. “Baby.”
He laughed. He laid wet kisses down my jaw, finding my neck like an arrow finding its target. He sucked down my pulse, biting at my skin and drawing pretty mewls from my mouth.
“Hurry up,” I whimpered, wrapping my legs around his waist. I knew he would be hard for me, aching for me, dreaming of stripping me down on the counter and fucking me legless.
“You’re tipsy,” he groaned, squeezing my outer thigh. His hands gripped me, cupped me like water. They kneaded and worked, remembering and memorizing.
“So are you,” I grasped for his hair, untying it quickly. It felt like a reflex. I slipped his hair tie onto my wrist.
“You’re impatient when you’re tipsy,” he tugged me closer, letting me feel his length between my thighs. I wanted to laugh or hiss, but kissed his neck instead.
“You like that.”
He huffed, upset that I was right, and slipped the strap of my dress off my shoulder.
“Why aren’t you wearing a bra?” He frowned, nipping at my collarbone.
I giggled, “Why are you pretending to only notice now?”
“Fuck you,” he laughed in my ear, twisting my hair in his fist. I looked at him, lips plush and red, eyes glassy and dark. I thought I saw infatuation, deep behind his eyes, but it could have been lust.
“I like the way you stare,” I answered, and he bit back a smile. I brushed the other strap off my shoulder, letting him watch as my dress fell to my waist. He breathed in through his nose, eyes dragging over me.
He pulled a hand down my neck, palm dragging against my skin. He reached down to my heart, spreading his hand flat against my chest. I breathed into his hand like that, stuttering moans against his lips. I liked the magnetic space between our lips, fizzling between us like static as our lips threatened to brush into each other. I arched my back, my palms pressed to the bar to support me. His eyes were downcast, locked on my shaking chest.
“Maybe we shouldn’t,” he murmured, his hand falling between my breasts. He followed my sternum, up and down.
“Just tonight,” I suggested, shrugging. I rolled my head to the side, and watched him bite his lip, his eyes focused on the tendons flexing in my neck.
He grunted, bringing his lips to the space between my collarbones, “You always say that.”
“Do you want,” I rested my chin on the top of his head, “you want me to beg?”
I put a hand on his shoulder to feel him sigh. He kissed down my chest, his tongue wetting my skin. I shivered when his hand cupped my breast, his thumb circling my nipple.
“Well?” I asked, my thighs tightening around his waist as his tongue licked up my breast. He kissed the underside, sucking and bruising the skin. His cock twitched against my core.
“Beg if you want,” he groaned, and reached up my dress, fingers curling around the lace at my hips. “You’ll get me either way.”
“That’s a good man,” I grinned, and he narrowed his eyes, tongue still teasing my nipple.
“Fuck off with that,” he muttered, and pulled down my underwear, balling it in his fist.
“Good boy?” I tried, rolling my eyes as I caught him stuffing the pretty black lace into his back pocket.
“No,” he scrunched his nose, sighing when I turned my head away from his kiss.
“Pretty boy? Handsome?” I giggled, twisting my hands into his hair. “Daddy?”
That did it.
“Shut up,” he grumbled, licking his lips to hide his smirk. He grabbed me by the waist roughly, pressing my wet cunt against the front of his jeans.
“Ross?” I smiled, sheepish. My face flushed, “My Ross?”
His lips parted, and he dragged his hands up my thighs, my dress gathered at my waist uselessly.
“That’s better,” he nodded, eliciting a gasp when his middle finger swiped at the mess between my thighs. I groaned, a throaty, needy beg. His finger toyed with the slick of me, aimless and bored. I held his wrist, hoping to pull him into me, but he was immovable. He held my gaze, finger circling the cusp of my entrance.
“Please,” I breathed, high and pretty. “Ross.”
He kissed me, and pushed a finger into me. I whimpered, the vodka making me forget how to keep quiet. He didn’t seem to mind, adding his ring finger to placate me. He knew I’d be begging for his cock next, and brushed my clit with his thumb to keep my head spinning. I should have been embarrassed, the way I arched my chest into his, how I clawed his button-down open, how I cried and swore at only his fingers. But he only encouraged me, rewarding me with a faster pace.
“I want you,” I moaned, unbuttoning his jeans. He pressed his tongue to mine, muttering something about patience into my mouth. I ignored him, clenching around his fingers as I palmed his cock.
“Come first,” he said, and pulled his fingers from me counterintuitively. “Then you can have me. You’d like that?”
I nodded, trying to kiss him, but his hand pressed into my chest. He laid me down on the bar, grabbing my already-trembling thighs. I whined as he draped my legs over his shoulders, kissing the inside of my thigh roughly. My face twisted at the scratch from his beard, but I was quickly soothed by the softness of his tongue trailing up my thigh.
“Ross,” I managed, crying out as he flattened his tongue against my clit. His hands dug into my legs, holding me in place as I tried to squirm into him. He was still, just holding his tongue against me. I dropped my head against the bar, knowing he wanted me to relax. I took in a deep breath, pleasure burning dull and hot down my veins.
“I didn’t even have to ask,” he spoke, lips brushing my clit. I jolted each time his voice vibrated into me, and he laughed. “My good girl.” He was teasing, but his words still made me flutter.
I curled my hands into fists, and let out a string of expletives as his tongue licked up my center. He found his way back to my clit, circling and sucking. He moaned into me, making my cunt throb. My head rolled, my hands tugged at his hair, I spat and whined and cursed. I was there, I was throbbing for him, I was shattering and scattering to pieces.
He dipped his fingers into me again, fucking a delicious rhythm into me. I tightened and relaxed, I was breathing so heavy I felt dizzy.
He was fucking relentless, giving me everything I had wanted in quick succession. I saw blue and red, crowding the edges of my vision as he dragged me over the edge.
“Almost there, aren’t you?” He squeezed my thigh. “Let me have it, darling.”
He kissed my clit, sucking it between his teeth. It was a twisting sort of pleasure, making my vision blur and my heart stutter. Then he lapped at me prettily, making up for the pain tenfold. I was gasping, praising him, begging him to slow down, chanting for him; I’m there, I’m there.
I came with a final flick of his tongue, crying out and pulling his hair. He hummed, buzzing up my thighs, curling his fingers inside of me. I cracked under him, weightless and gone. I was nothing in front of him, unmoving as he drew his fingers from me.
“All talk, you are,” he pulled me to sit up. I lay weakly against his chest. “Come on, I’ll take you to bed.”
I shook my head, “I can do it.”
“Sure you can,” he huffed, and picked me up off the counter. My feet hit the ground unsteadily, still wobbly and pathetic from my orgasm. I leaned against the bar, watching him breathe a laugh as he pulled my dress up over my breasts. He tried to put my arm through the strap, but I slapped his hand away.
“I’m fine,” I urged, and slid my dress down. It pooled at my ankles.
He looked up and away from me.
I held his wrist gently. I leaned up to kiss him, but he wouldn’t bend down to meet my lips. I huffed.
I turned my back to him.
“Let’s get you to sleep, okay?” He mumbled, and I caught his gaze in the mirror behind the bar. I smirked, stretching my hands in front of me. I slid them up the counter, the wood pressing into my forearms. I arched my back, spreading my legs. Just enough space for him to stand between them.
“Fuck me,” I stated, watching his darkening eyes, unable to look away from my needy cunt.
“Fuck,” he breathed, the heel of his hand against his erection. “You can do it?”
“Mhm,” I nodded, smiling at him in the mirror. “You know I can.”
He threw his head back, groaning loudly. I throbbed at the sight, his pulse pounding up his neck, his palm to his cock.
I pressed my tits to the bar, looking back at him. He pulled himself from his briefs, stroking his length in his fist. His tip was glistening as he held himself, just standing behind me, contemplating what to do. His pace quickened, and I grew jealous, watching him pleasure himself without me. I was tempted to turn around, or to swipe at my clit, but couldn’t break from the trance that the sight of him held on me. I wanted to lick the pink from his cheeks.
“You look so pretty,” he breathed, and I saw the sheen of sweat gathered on his neck. He must have been desperate, holding himself back from me for so long. He had been restrained all this time, not wanting to be mean. Maybe he would change his mind.
“I feel pretty too,” I murmured. “I think. Why don’t you tell me?”
He stifled a moan, and grabbed my hip with his free hand. He ground into me, dragging his cock up and down my slit.
“You feel fucking soaked,” he sighed, finding my entrance and edging the tip of his cock into me. “Such a perfect fucking cunt.”
My mouth opened, feeling him tease and stretch and dig his fingertips into my hip. I wanted to watch him, to see his chest heave as he tried not to overwhelm me, to see the constricted muscles in his forearm. I was too busy feeling to look, desperate to grind my hips to his and let him fill me. Instead, I whimpered on the counter, listening to his praises as he slowly pushed into me.
“You alright?” He asked, bottomed out and breathless. I circled my hips carefully, hoping to give him his answer. He choked back a moan, slapping my ass in response. “Fuck, could you just use your words for once?”
“I’m alright, baby,” I giggled as his hand ran up my back. He found my shoulder, gripping it tightly. My heart beat in a slant, anticipating what it knew would happen next.
“You’re forgetting to breathe,” he commented, still buried inside of me.
Obviously, I wanted to spit. I took a heavy, careful inhale, letting his hand feel the air in my lungs.
“I don’t remember you being this…” he massaged a thumb into my shoulder, “obedient.”
“Just fuck me already,” I cried, my legs quivering and my skin on fire for him.
“There she is,” he said, and I looked back to see his grin. He raked his fingers through my hair, looking down at me with his pupils blown. I wondered what he was thinking for a moment, his eyebrows drawn together as he watched his hand run through my hair. Then, he was splitting me open, his eyes closed as he thrusted and moaned. I let out a muffled cry, trying to turn my head away from him. His grip on my hair held me in place. He snapped his hips into me at a gratifying pace, finally praising me for my patience. The sound of his skin on mine made me whimper, filling the bar with pretty sounds it shouldn’t know.
“You feel so good,” I whined, and he trailed his hand to my back.
“Yeah?” He already knew, but pushed into me harder, watching my face twist. I wanted him to tell me I was pretty, to tell me I was good, to tell me I was everything. He showed me instead, filling me up until I thought I would overflow. My exhales were stuttered, punctuated by his hips. Pleasure spun around my head, flittering up my thighs and twisting below my stomach. He should have been getting sloppy, grunting as he chased his orgasm, reckless and crazed. Instead, he was infuriatingly rhythmic, a constant bombardment I couldn’t lose focus of.
“Ross,” I crooned, gasping between his thrusts.
“You’re alright, you’re alright,” he mumbled, knowing I was asking permission to fall apart. “I’m right there.”
I squirmed under him, finding his hand pressed into the bar above my shoulder. I wrapped my fingers around his wrist, anchoring myself to him as I cried out. He liked that, sucking air in through his teeth as he quickened his pace. I was drowning in the bliss he shattered through me with each thrust, each gasp, each muffled groan from his lips. My breaths were thinning, becoming less frequent and more desperate. I wondered if it had always felt this good.
“I can’t, I can’t,” I panted, legs shaking under me.
“Come on this cock for me, pretty girl,” he whispered, wrapping an arm under my stomach to take the weight off my legs. I whined, eyes shut in an opiated trance, my heartbeat loud in my ears. “You’re perfect– fuck, perfect.”
He reached a hand between my thighs, pressing two fingers against my clit. I choked through a gasp, straining to look back at him. He was still pounding into me, snapping up into my ribs, pretty beads of sweat collecting at his hairline. His eyes found mine and I slipped, pleasure shearing through me as I finished around him. He groaned at the way I shook under him, losing his militant rhythm and fucking into me lazily.
“Shit, can I–”
“Yes,” I interrupted, nodding wildly. He cursed loudly at my eagerness, tightening his grip around my waist. I was in complete bliss, fucked out and humming underneath him. He thrusted against me, sucking in a breath before spilling into me. He filled my aching cunt, stilling inside of me as his cock twitched.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling out of me with a sigh. I frowned at the lack of him, limp on the counter as he pressed kisses into my dewey back. “You alright to stand, sweetheart?”
“Mhm,” I sighed, peeling myself off the bar. My legs were barely able to hold me up, loose and hollow.
“You sure?” He laughed, turning me towards him and pressing a kiss to my forehead. He guided my hands to his shoulders, kneeling before me to pull up my dress. His thumbs dragged over my skin as he brought it up, kissing at my navel and along my sternum.
“Stay in my room,” he said, pushing my hair behind my ear, “Please.”
I nodded, pressing my flushed cheek to his chest. He sighed, and ran a hand up and down my back.
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