cw: drunk sex, pegging, submissive chris, kinky, ass stuff <3
word count: ~1800
Getting ready for the night, you received a text from Chris. You had to stop brushing your teeth from the sheer shock of the picture he sent. His text read “come over” with an obscene amount of crude emojis following, accompanied by a photo. In it, Chris was holding his phone up to the mirror, biting his lip seductively, wearing a short tight black nun costume. Calling it a nun costume seems a bit offensive honestly, because the only thing remotely religious about the garb was the veil on his head and the black cross on the collar. The mesh fabric wrapped over his arms strained from his muscles and his legs looked at you fully exposed. You immediately abandoned what you were doing to text him back.
You: God. What has George got you to do now?
Chris: He let me wear a jumper over it during the video but I wanted to show you…
You: Aww poor thing. Must’ve been so embarrassing for you haha.
Chris: If only there was something to make me feel better.
You: Slut.
Chris: Whore.
You: I’m coming over.
You quickly cleaned yourself up, packed a bag, and headed out to Chris’ flat.
★★★
Using the spare key, you walked into the apartment, a strong scent of booze airing over the whole space. ArthurTV was asleep on the couch dressed as a pineapple with an unflattering smattering of makeup on his face. The dining area was a mess, you couldn’t imagine what had gone down earlier. Arthur Hill and George seemed to have already retired to their rooms. You toed into Chris’ room, finding him passed out in that beautifully small dress, veil off, lying on top of his bed sheets. Closing the door quietly behind yourself, you changed into the pajamas you brought in your bag and slid onto the bed to spoon him. He stirred a little, sighing as he settled into the warmth of you, half asleep.
“How are you?” you whispered.
“You came,” he replied.
You chuckled, “I did, yeah. You looked too pretty to leave alone.”
Without a second thought, Chris wiggled his hips back, pressing his ass flush against your crotch. You took that as a sign to wrap him closer, beginning to press soft kisses against his back and up his neck. He giggled and sighed in contempt, enjoying the gentle show of affection. Your hand snaked up, squeezing his chest like he had tits, appreciating what the dress did for him. Between kisses you mumbled, “So goddamn hot… so many things I want to do to you, Chris.”
His breath caught in his throat, “Yeah?” His hand met your own over his chest, pressing hard, encouraging you to do more with it. Through the thin fabric of the costume dress you pinched his nipple, causing him to stutter, gasping at the twinge of pleasure. “Do that again?” Chris said breathlessly, an exploratory question. You obeyed, pinching harshly at the other side, making him gasp even louder this time. Your other hand slithered down, feeling the curves of his waist, groping his ass.
“How drunk are you?” you asked, feeling him up all over his taut body.
“Not that much,” he slurred back. You knew he was lying but he was breathing too hard and his dress was tenting at the front so it was hard to care. He got quieter, “don’t stop… please.” It was hard to argue with that so you kept at it, rubbing and soothing over any bit of him you could, feeling the slide of the fabric wrapped deliciously over him. Your fingers danced under the hem of his skirt and found the swell of his ass. He twitched when you ran a slow finger from his balls to his hole.
“No panties?”
Chris’ breath quickened and he gulped uncomfortably, like he’d been caught.
“Slut,” you whispered in his ear, teasing his taint. He groaned something incoherent and used the last of his energy to roll onto his hands and knees, back arched ridiculously. “Presenting yourself for me, are you Chris?” You took this opportunity to drip saliva from your tongue onto his hole, spreading it over the smattering of soft brown and blonde hair. “You’re so adorable like this.”
Upright on your knees behind Chris, you pressed your thumb slowly inside him, using your other hand to grip his hip tight. His body jerked to the intrusion and he drew out a low moan.
“There you go, baby. You want more?” His only response was his head pressed further into the bed and his ass presented higher. It was obvious he wanted it rough right now. He wanted to be fucked to oblivion.
Your fingers tangled in his curls, pulling at the roots and pushing his cheek harder against the pillow as your other hand maneuvered to his shuddering hole. Two knuckles deep and he was making a dripping mess on his costume and sheets. Soon you worked up a rhythm, and plunged your fingers against his prostate in time with the sway of your hips, preparing him for a real fuck.
“Holy shit. Fuck,” he whined, his eyes strained to one side to make contact with yours. How cute.
You slipped away for a moment to reach over to your bag set beside the bed. From within, you pulled out your strap. It was a humble thing—black bands of leather wrapping around each other, a flesh coloured dildo attached at the centre, simple and sleek. When you first bought it, you suggested getting a bright coloured one, something unrealistic. But Chris had insisted you buy something that felt like you, because he wanted to feel you inside him, not some piece of plastic. This way, it was easier to imagine you were really fucking him.
He spotted the object in your hand and his eyes rolled back without any penetration. “You have to earn this one, Chris.”
“Anything,” he mumbled.
“Sorry? What was that?” You heard him perfectly but it was more fun to play around anyways.
He cleared his throat, “anything.”
You stood by the foot of the bed and said, “come,” as you began tightening the buckles. He scurried over, disheveled and pink, desperate to please you. “Open,” you said, holding your cock perpendicular to his face. Chris dropped his jaw, his plush pink lips offered to you, eyes looking up with such admiration. The rest of him relaxed onto the mattress, the familiar taste of silicone on his tongue. Slowly, your cock dipped in and out of his mouth, his eyelids rolling shut. You supported him with a hand, guiding more into his wet hole.
Breaking the silence you said, “I’ll only fuck you with as much as you can take right now.” His brows met in the middle as he promptly focused. You could see his face grow closer and closer to your pubic bone as he took your statement as a challenge. He breathed thickly through his nostrils and struggled to look back up at you with the prettiest eyes. “So good,” you had to sigh.
Holding him tightly by his hair again, you fucked his mouth, relishing in the obscene wet sounds it produced. His cheeks drew in even though you couldn’t feel it. But at this point, and at this level of arousal, you were starting to believe it was becoming a phantom limb. Inspired by his reverence and dedication to you, your own breathing became erratic and you really really wanted to fuck him by now.
You stepped back, watching as his pink mouth stayed open and expression turned to disappointment. “Go lie on your back now.” He always listened to you so well, you might’ve struck a jackpot with this guy. Easily he found his rightful spot in the centre of his bed, soft hands holding the backs of his thighs up so you could see his begging asshole.
With two lubed fingers, you returned the favour and strongly caressed his taint and hole until he was whining. Only then would you slip your fingers inside him and watch how his face contorted in pleasure. “F-fuck. Don’t stop.”
Leaning low, until your hot breath tickled his ear, you hummed, “Wasn’t planning on it.”
Ecstasy drifted across his features as he realized that your hard cock replaced your fingers, and you were now fucking him properly. It felt nice to finally feel the resistance of his muscles against every thrust, his body growing limp as he realized he should ultimately submit to you. “You become my little plaything so easily, huh?” You giggled as your thrusts plowed deeper and faster within him.
He could only moan in response, his voice shaking with every blow to his hole. From this missionary angle, you could see his bright pink cock on display. It was hard as it could ever be and wet at the tip like a girl. You hadn’t touched him there once. You wonder if he’d been touching himself before you came over. If he had been thinking about sucking your cock and taking all of you.
Your hands gripped his lean waist and you fucked him like your life depended on it. He was growing more desperate by the second, his hips bucking fitfully and his whining consistent. “You can take it, yeah?”
“Yes,” he sobbed back pitifully. The sound your contact was making was lewd to the highest degree, but neither of you could seem to care, the three other men in the flat being the furthest thing on your mind. Although… they’d probably be fun to play with too.
You did not let up, the penetration bordering on overstimulating by now, you were sure. But now was not the time to stop as he began babbling about how close he was getting. Your hand reached to help his cock along the impending orgasm, but he swatted you away. There was probably some sort of pride for him to cum untouched.
Your legs ached but Chris was so goddamn close and he was probably seeing stars behind his eyelids. Without a moment's notice, his cock twitched alive and spurted his cum dramatically up his chest, ruining the dress. He drew out a groan and then lost all control of himself, ragdolling on the covers, chest heaving intensely. You drew yourself out of his hole, and saw it blink at the loss. He made such cute eye contact, you couldn’t help but plant a pretty kiss on his lips, and then his cheek, and then his forehead, where he giggled weakly. “One moment,” you said.
Quickly you stripped your strap loose so you could climb onto the mattress next to him, feeling his heartbeat with your palm to his chest. “Thank you,” he said.
“Thank you, Chris,” you replied. Then you helped him peel off the cheap polyester costume, threw it to the side, and curled against his warm skin. He made sure to hold you close, trying to remember this moment.
authors note: i've been having sex regularly so im more inspired lols. hope u liked.
Some wacky illustrations for a short dissertation I wrote for my Masters, exploring the relationship between medieval illuminations, marginalia, and online ads.
ha it just occurred to me that ilya's dad calling him ''lazy'' was probably referring to his depressive episodes. and he probably said the same thing about ilyas mom. okay.
