clark "slow, deep breaths" kent who has to repeatedly remind you of a function you should otherwise have complete, unconscious control over. though when he's got his cock in you like this, that's not so much of a given.
it's as if your brain short circuits when he's inside you, wires detaching in your mind that made the task of breathing something difficult.
clark's got you caged in at the foot of the bed, arms, legs, all his limbs encompassing you like he didn't want to let you up. you're most malleable under him, body voluntarily limp as you allow him to contort you as he pleases.
your nails rake his back, streaks of pink following the trails of each erratic hand movement you make. he has no reaction to the marks you draw, nor can you see them being pinned under his weight, though you can only assume them to look like thick red chemtrails.
his cock repeats that same carefully precise drilling motion, that very same motion he's yet to curtail from. it's become almost relentless, the rhythm close to breaking you, rather than the other way around. it turns your body to mush and brain into a tizzy as he fucks you through another orgasm.
your thighs shudder around the lowers of his hips, an incessant twitching forming like you, yourself, hand no control over it. your stomach trembles with your climax, chest jittering as if to cope with the wild intakes of air you struggle to fully inhale.
your head tips back and you cry out a pathetically lewd string of, "fuck,"s.
though with you seemingly teetering into something almost soul-engulfing like you are, it doesn't make him stop. he proceeds, cock dragging out and pushing into you just like it was before you let go around his dick — before your cunt fluttered and convulsed around him with your climax a moment ago.
with your throat exposed like it is, he lowers, lips pressing under your chin as he kisses and nibbles at it. he smiles against your chin, act amused by your bodily response to him.
"I know," he coos, dimpled grin almost juxtaposing his tone. "deep breaths," he instructs, hand reaching to the side of your head. "slow, deep breaths, baby," he repeats, guiding you into something calm all while doing the complete, polar opposite with his cock.
A/N : In my defense, I'm ovulating 👀
Warnings : 18+ MDNI, smut, vibrators, masturbation (f), Tit worship, oral (f rec), PinV, PwP, foul language, glasses kink (this is super self indulgent lol), Clark being a nerd and hot soft-dom boyfriend at the same time, perverted reader, even more perverted Clark
Word Count : 1.8 k
Nerd Clark who is the quietest person at the daily planet. Quiet to the point where people wonder if he's even fit to be a reporter. But as his interactions with the superman have proved, he's very worthy of his position despite being so……mysterious.
Nerd Clark who is shy to return smiles when you wish him a cheery good morning summoning the brightest smile on your face.
Nerd Clark who slowly opens up to you. And by opens up I mean he lets a few good mornings and goodbyes slip free when he watches you arrive or leave.
Nerd Clark who thinks you're friends.
Nerd Clark who has no idea how bad your intentions are. That you hardly want friendship from him. What you want is for him to ruin you.
Nerd Clark who watches you stare at him, thinking its a loving look on your face except your eyes are raking over his body thinking about how soft those curls would feel under your palms, how those glasses would fog up when you have him panting under you, how those massive ridges of muscles would ripple when he's thrusting into you and how those veins would feel if you traced it with your tongue.
Nerd Clark who snaps you out of your wild imagination with a snap of his fingers and you're left breathless and wet in the office in the middle of the day.
Nerd Clark who believes your excuse of not feeling well when you look all red and leave for home early.
Nerd Clark who would never know that you spent that night riding your vibrator pretending it to be him, moaning his name out loud until your walls have it memorised. (I meant bedroom walls, what're you even thinking, you dirty minded duckling)
Nerd Clark who's all shy when you kiss him for the first time. All nervous smiles and fumbling hands as his lips move over yours in a slow rhythm.
Nerd Clark whose glasses nugde against your nose when he leans in for a second kiss, much to his annoyance but only until you end up giggling against his mouth.
Nerd Clark who does not understand why you're so keen on him leaving his glasses on during the kiss even when it's in the way.
Nerd Clark who you think would be shy and soft and sweet in bed and turns out he's anything but.
Nerd Clark who has you pinned against the door the moment you close it after getting home.
Nerd Clark whose hungry eyes, dilated pupils, and shameless strokes of his fingers under your shirt surprise you in the best way becuase where did that shy nerd go who was nervous to kiss you?
Nerd Clark who has known everything since the beginning and still let you work for him, and yearn for him, all this time.
Nerd Clark whose voice is possesive and dark and rough when he leans in close to your ear and whispers “You've been testing my patience, baby” before his mouth is on you.
Nerd Clark who revels in watching you all shocked and dumbfounded at knowing how his shy personality just switches off around you.
Nerd Clark who has the filthiest mouth on him and loves to rile you up “Why do you look so dumb baby? Were’nt you the one who invited me here?”
Nerd Clark who chuckles against your lips when you have no words left and you decide kissing him would be the appropriate response.
Nerd Clark who picks you up like you weigh no more than a pillow before he trudges toward your bedroom.
Nerd Clark who takes his sweet time with you. Kissing his way down your body, worshipping every inch of skin revealed.
Nerd Clark who you know is gone when his eyes zeroe in on your tits, his tongue sneaking out to wet his lips before his mouth is on you. Warm and wet and so fucking desperate as he laps at your skin, nipping your nipple with his teeth ever so slightly to draw out those quiet gasps and whines you make for him.
Nerd Clark who spends way too much time fondling your tits, only stopping when they're tender and red from the assault his mouth put them through. He finally moves on with a whine when he sees you whimper at the overstimulation, but not before pressing a chaste kiss to both of your breasts like they're something living and could feel his affection.
Nerd Clark whose mouth is a weapon of mass destruction and you somehow have the misfortune (or should I say, fortune?) of being his target.
Nerd Clark who laps at your pussy like a man starved. Holding your thighs apart with those chiseled arms of his while he attacks your clit with little kitten licks. Giving only enough for you to writhe beneath him.
Nerd Clark who works you patiently, drawing your pleasure out until you snap on his tongue with his name loud in your mouth and your body convulsing around him.
Nerd Clark who let's you harshly tug at his hair as the force of your climax consumes you whole. He doesn't so much as whine in complaint when your thighs all but suffocate him with how tight they're wrapped around his neck, shoving his face deeper into you.
Nerd Clark who has almost all of his face shiny with your release when he crawls back up to you. The sight stealing all air out of your lungs becuase holy shit is this a sight to see. You're pretty sure you'd pay good amount of money for just another moment to watch him like this again.
Nerd Clark who has you losing your mind on his fingers next “This what you were thinking about that day, sweetheart?” He says as he curls his fingers slightly, hitting the spot that makes you cry out and confessing your ugly fantasies to him.
Nerd Clark who revels in the fact that he's got you so worked up you don't even know what you're confessing.
Nerd Clark who makes the mistake of trying to take off his fogged glasses to avoid losing the sight of you. Much to your displeasure as you shove them back on.
“Baby, I can't see you with these on” he punctuates between kisses, of course he wants the glasses off. Who would be dumb enough to not want to see you, all naked and flushed and moaning for him?
Nerd Clark who realises you have a very specific kink when he sees your reluctance to let the glasses leave his face.
Nerd Clark who slides them upward instead, letting the black frame rest in his hair like a little tiara and god if it doesn't drive you crazy.
Nerd Clark who can see the shift in your energy at that in the way your eyes go dark, and can't wait another moment before he's inside you.
Nerd Clark who is big enough to hurt even after he's stretched you out. And damn it if he isn't proud about it. “Am I too big for you, baby?” He teases, inching inside slowly, letting you adjust to the sheer size of him. “You're just a tiny little thing, aren't you?”
Nerd Clark who becomes utterly insufferable when he watches his cock slide all the way into you “Look at you, sweetie. All stretched out on my cock”
Nerd Clark who makes you think you've descended to heaven when he starts to move becuase surely a feeling like this doesn't exist in this universe.
Your hips rock up themselves, meeting his every thrust as endless curses spill from his lips, emphasising how good you feel around him, how perfect.
You let the praise wash over you and drive you closer to the climax.
Nerd Clark who is dominant and unrestrained but never rough enough to hurt. Always looking for signs of discomfort and monitoring your micro expressions to see if you're hurting.
Nerd Clark who doubles down when he hears your sounds pitching higher. His hands make their way to your knees pushing them toward you, making the angle steeper and hitting that deep spot inside you.
Nerd Clark who praises you through it when he sees how you react to it
“Such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”
“Taking my cock so well”
“You're gonna come for me? You gonna be a good girl?”
It makes your skin prickle, fingers tremble and toes curl into the mattress as you bite down on his shoulder to muffle the cry that tears out of you as your orgasm swallows you completely.
Nerd Clark whose thrusts grow erratic when he feels your warm walls convulsing and fluttering around him. The feeling addictive and ruining him at the same time.
His hand find your breasts again “Fuck me, these tits” he grunts, mouth enveloping a nipple as one of his hands grips and massages the other breast as if it is an achor he needs to hold onto to keep himself tethered to you.
Nerd Clark who is loud when he comes. Loud enough that you'll probably have your neighbours complaining tomorrow but your name in his mouth sounds so fucking delicious that you can't bring yourself to care about anything but the fact that you want to hear it again and again and again.
Nerd Clark who cleans you up after. And boy is it a sight to behold. His skin is flushed and glowing with the soft sheen of sweat. His curls all messed up, and you feel a flutter down south knowing its your hands that did that.
There's a shy smile on his face as he's back to the gentle, nerdy part of himself that you so dearly adore.
Nerd Clark who is a cuddler, he pulls you close immediately after he settles onto your bed, rubbing comforting circles on your back making you sleepy in his arms.
And you swear you hear him mumble something like “Sleep good, sweetheart” and soft lips pressing against your forehead before you finally let your eyes close, falling asleep in the arms of the man who you might fall in love with. Especially given everything that happened today. There's no way you're gonna let this be a one time thing.
As Morgan stood in her best friend’s kitchen, she felt a wave of humiliation wash over her. Her bare breasts were exposed, and the embarrassing nappy she wore was on full display. "Oh no, this is so mortifying!" she thought, trying to hide her face.
Her friends, giggling uncontrollably, couldn’t help but point and laugh at the sight of a grown woman bent over, getting her padded bum bum spanked. “Please, no more!” Morgan wailed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry! I’ll never do it again!”
The laughter grew louder as they watched her squirm, the sight of a grown woman crying like a naughty toddler was too much for them to handle. “Look at her! She’s begging like a little baby!” one of her friends teased, wiping away tears of laughter.
But there was no mercy today; it was Morgan’s first birthday party, and her friends had decided to give her a lesson she wouldn’t forget. “You thought you could sneak around with our boyfriends and get away with it?” another friend said, shaking her head.
As the spanking finally came to a halt, Morgan took a deep breath, hoping it was over. But then, she felt the nappy being ripped off, and her heart sank. “No, please! Not that!” she whimpered, her voice trembling as she heard the sound of wet wipes being opened. “I promise I’ll be good!” But deep down, she knew there was no escaping this punishment.
What about horse cock Clark who fucks reader so hard she nearly passes out and it makes him all whimpery and whiny but he’s kinda proud of it
clark’s in deep. deep. his balls are touching her lips, he feels how deep her walls really go and if he flipped her over he’d probably see the fat lump of his cock bulging out of her stomach.
“there you go baby, you’ve got all of it in now. I know it’s a lot, I know.”
she’s screaming into her pillow to muffle the noise, her pussy gripping him in a slippery warm hug while he smoothes his dick all the way out, runs the tip back to her clit, then slides it all the way back in. she loves how many places he can caress, can hit all her grooves and fill her up so much that when she clenches she can feel how connected they are to the brim.
“knew you could do it. s’this feel good? you like all this dick inside you or do you want a smaller one?”
she squeals into her pillow and shakes her head adamantly, clenching down to non verbally emphasize to him what her answer to that stupid question was. he challenges her again, shoving it all the way in so deep that she leaks some fluid on him on the pull out, fresh cream gracing his dick making him grin and push himself back in, closing his eyes with his mouth open.
“huh? I didn’t get an answer baby, you like feeling full of dick this big or do you wanna go back to your ex’s small one?”
“no! no, no clark, just yours. I only need yours.”
“atta girl,” he chuckles, resuming his pace when he got the answer that he wanted. it took only a few more minutes of him gliding himself in balls deep and watching her wither and cry until he’s turning into a whiny mess himself.
“oh god, oh god baby that’s so good, your pussy was made for this dick,” he whimpers. has to hold out and harshly grip the base of his dick on one pull out so that he doesn’t bust prematurely. she grinds back against him and doesn’t seem to give a shit that he was trying to hold himself back with his hand, pushing her ass forwards so that she could swallow up more of his cock.
“baby I’m gonna cum if you keep going like that,” clark warns with a shaky breath, losing his composure when she still points her ass up and clenches.
“I need it. fuck me harder. I need you to ruin me.”
clark hums through another whimper and gathers himself. wipes some sweat lingering off his forehead and then grabs her hips to hold her in place.
“yeah? you want it hard and fast?”
“fucking yes—“
clark doesn’t even let her finish her thought before he’s slamming in and already making her gasp. he yanks himself out and then quickly slams himself back in, repeatedly angling himself in ways that hit up against all of her favorite spots. a bigger mess starts to gather on his dick, and both of them have turned into a crying, whining mess, matching each other’s moans while he moves with so much ferocity and momentum that the bed creaks and pushes up against the wall.
he can feel it when she cums, twice in quick succession, falling apart on his dick while she screams into her pillow and lazily grinds back. clark isn’t far behind, not at all. a few vicious pumps later and he’s spurting everything he’s held inside, cum dribbling between her pussy lips and already starting to fall out while he whines and tries to catch up with her. she doesn’t move after that. doesn’t speak. her head is still shoved in the pillow, deep breaths that at least tell him she’s still alive, and he taps her shoulder, shakes her gently to check in and see if she’s really okay.
“baby, baby is everything okay? was it too hard? I should’ve gone slower. gosh….”
his eyebrows pinch in when his mind floods with worry, turning her over to find that he just fucked her right to sleep.
when she hums lazily, more than half asleep, letting him know she’s okay without even lifting her eyes, she quickly drifts back to her wonderland and her breathing deepens once again. clark laughs while he gets up to fetch her a towel for the mess still spilling down her legs, wipes her clean with a warm rag. he leans in and kisses her forehead before pulling her in his arms, smug as he realizes he just fucked her so good that she didn’t wait even a beat until she was passing out. it pulls a smirk on his face as he rubs her shoulder, observes her as she sleeps. she didn’t get up for over an hour, only briefly to chug some of the water he left on her side table before passing out yet again. clark sees how relaxed, how loose and drowsy and still more worry-free than she’s ever been after taking his dick all the way to her stomach. it puts pride in his heart to know how he’s capable of giving it to her so good she loses consciousness
. . .
I love this and also also consider…… clark fucking her so hard and so deep she gets a nosebleed
what could possibly be hotter than waking up in bed being bracketed by two, hulking men, eager for your attention. that’s what lazy mornings with bruce wayne and clark kent would look like.
being lifted with ease onto clark’s lap where his morning wood presses at the soft fabric of his sweats. a quick adjustment of his thighs slide you further down so your clit catches his hard on. being sleepy still and bruce coming up from behind you to rub your clit, encouraging you to grind and soak clark with your arousal.
the man behind you, places open mouthed kisses down your pulse as he’s tugging at your shorts, “take em’ off. let him feel you taking what you need.”
clark stiffens beneath at bruce’s words, eager to feel your heat directly on him as you dry hump yourself into an orgasm. “n-need these off,” he’d whine pathetically, pulling the waistband of his sweats down. feeling you twitch on him, without any barriers, it felt so potent that his hands snap to your hips. sliding up your torso to cup around your clothed tits.
corenswet!clark kent x fem!reader
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you find out just how much Clark keeps inside...
𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬: mild angst; 18+ mdni; smut—and I mean smut!; p in v sex; unprotected sex (pls use protection irl!); vv wet blowjob; dry/wet humping; Clark's massive CAWK; needy!reader is a freak for her man (who wouldn't be?); Clark is just as needy; lots of making out; even more cum; they both love creampies; little bit of cockwarming ; lemme know if I missed any!
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.1k
𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲: after much contemplation, ive decided that ive missed clark and that I want you guys to witness this filth...enjoy reading and tell me what you think!
The suspicion was easy.
He made it so easy for you, you wondered if he was doing it on purpose, maybe he was soft-launching it—giving you clues.
But you knew he wasn't doing it on purpose when he would exclaim an extremely delayed—albeit adorable—'ouch!' when taking a baking sheet from the oven with his bare hand. Pretending to run it under cold water even though the faucet lever was in the wrong direction.
And you, you made it even easier by pretending you didn't notice.
Because you knew that if he admitted it, you'd do nothing but spiral.
It had always been a problem with you—spiraling to the point of not communicating.
You'd be so caught up in your head that even your questions would remain inside your brain and you'd continue life confused and uncertain simply because the moment your brain talks and talks, your mouth decides to stitch itself shut.
It's what came naturally to you. Previous partners had complained, even with preamble, quickly growing tired of your habit and ending things.
None had the patience like Clark.
Though Clark, your sweet Clark, had thought the same as them.
Your motorcycle vibrated beneath you, the engine revving up alongside your excitement, and unbeknownst to you, Clark could already hear your approach.
Blue eyes stayed in focus precision on the chopping board but his ears had tuned everything out except you.
The air shrills, however, echoing across your small abode and forcing his feet toward the direction of his phone on the counter. 'Lois L.' flashing across the screen before slid to answer, footsteps fading back to his earlier spot.
"Hey, Lois." He beamed.
"Where are you right now?" The woman ignored him, getting straight to the point. "Are you going with the plan—"
"I'm preparing her dinner, then," Clark paused, worry building in his gut, as it always does when revealing this massive secret. "Maybe, I'll tell 'er."
"Maybe?"
"Yes, Lois. Maybe." He heard her sigh—heavily, as though she was reprimanding a child. "This is a massive secret Lois," It was his turn to release a breath, squeezing his eyes shut as his mind jumps between trusting you—trusting that you'd understand why he kept this to himself for so long—and the extreme possible chance that you'd run. "I don't think I can say it yet."
"It's almost been a year, Clark."
Silence.
"She deserves to know."
"Lois—" He turned around, only to face you in the doorway of your kitchen.
You stood there, motorcycle helmet under your arm, with a furrowed brow and increasing worry the moment he ended the call in haste.
"Honey, you're—"
"What was she talking about?" The question came out shakier than you'd prefer, knuckles turning white as your whispers started slowly invading corners of your mind.
What was this secret?
How life altering could it be that he's hesitating on telling you?
How did he even manage to keep it for so long?
What did Lois know about it?
"Answer me, Clark." You hear him gulp audibly as he stepped towards you, cautious yet hopeful that you'll let him explain.
"Honey…C-can we sit on the couch for this?"
Clark released a breath when you let him hold your hand, guiding you quietly to your couch. "I want to clarify that this has nothing to do between me and Lois. I swear."
"I don't doubt that."
Of course you don't doubt that. Clark couldn't harm a fly, how could you think that he'd cheat on you?
"I-uh…" He sniffed, eyes already watering. He couldn't help but think that this was it—this was where he loses you. "I'm not from…here—here as in this planet, um."
A beat passes.
"You're Superman." You breathed.
So quietly, Clark almost missed it. Almost.
"Wai—what?"
You replied with a soft chuckle, fondness coating your gaze.
"Yes—yes! Uh, yeah. I, um," Clark cleared his throat, hand shakily hovering above his glasses' leg before ripping the thing off his face.
Letting you see him.
Clark held his breath, and for a moment, when the warmth in your gaze didn't falter, and when you stepped up to him, cupping his cheek, eyes never straying from his own, he thought he was in the clear.
But you cleared your throat, face falling as you looked away, doubt melting your face.
Then, you confirmed what he feared.
"I think I need space, Clark…" You continued speaking but Clark heard none of it, all his mind could grasp was that one word: space.
You wanted—no—needed space.
Away from him.
Away from Clark.
You sweet Clark. Your sweet Clark who walked the outer side of the sidewalk, Your sweet Clark who always seemed attuned to you and only you in the room, Your sweet Clark who managed to figure out when you've had enough of crowds.
Your Clark.
"—Clark?"
"Hmm? Yeah! I'll, uh, give you space. You take all of the time that you need, my phone'll be ready—or not—you know, you're not obligated to call or—" Clark wouldn't meet your eyes, hurriedly snatching his glasses from the table, useless now, and putting on his coat but not before passing by the kitchen and turning off the stove all the while you followed his hasty footfalls.
"Clark!"
BANG!
The sound of the door slamming was sharp, shaking every surface of your apartment.
You stood there with hanging limbs, mouth agape in disbelief at both the secret and the volume.
It took you five days.
Five agonizing days, two hours and thirty-four minutes for you to pick up the phone and ask Clark to come back over, but who was counting?
His steps caused a creeeeek on the hardwood floors of your apartment's hallways, wringing his hands and wiping them against his slacks, having ran here in the middle of his shift.
Clark took out his copy of your key but paused before the doorknob, tucking it back in his pocket before knocking instead, heart clenching at the muscle memory he might have to forget.
To his surprise, you immediately swung the door open, tackling him into a hug.
Massive hands splayed across your back, face nuzzling itself in the crook of your neck. The door was cold against your back when he pushed you back in your apartment, never parting from your touch.
"'m sorry." Clark felt your mumble vibrate against his shoulder, heat rising from his neck at your closeness before pulling away from yours.
"Why? I should be—"
"It took me almost a week to talk to you, Clark." His hands tighten their hold on your waist, "It wasn't fair to you."
"I was the one who kept secrets," he watches your mouth part in rebuttal, "And before you try to defend me, yes, it was reasonable, but I still kept it to myself. I should've trusted you more."
Having missed the feeling of him against you, your hands ran through his curly hair while he spoke, nuzzling your nose against his cheek, "I'm still sorry," you pressed a soft peck against the skin, "I just, had a lot in mind so it took me a while to pick up the phone properly."
He replied with a hum against your forehead, lips traveling to your temple, "What were you thinkin' about?"
You ignored the soft whine that left his throat when you pulled away slightly, fingers playing with the hair on his nape. "Just the mental toll it would've caused you to save people and have a life of your own, keeping it a secret your whole life. And… some other stuff."
Clark flushed red. Instead of thinking about the massive difference between both of your lives that he thought would part you, you were mulling over how he was feeling instead.
A thought made him pause. "What other stuff?"
His eyes squinted behind his glass when you remained silent, ears picking up the small jump your heart rate took, and when he looked down at you with scepticism, he was faced with the sight of your thighs clenching. Subtle, but it was there.
Clark smirked, the indents in his cheeks appearing deeper. The tilt in his head was immediate, aware of your tendency to avoid his gaze, and he immediately pushed your chin up with his thumb, palm still cradling your cheek.
"What stuff, honey?"
"Nothing important." You breathed, those inappropriate thoughts creeping back into your mind now that he was practically molding himself into you.
You were well aware of how massive your boyfriend was, who wouldn't when he made everything in your home look smaller that it is, but after he revealed his secret the difference in your biology became even more prominent.
Everything about him now has escalated and your mind couldn't help but question just how much and, well, where it escalated.
Now, now he was looking at you like he knew exactly where your mind was at. Proving it by effortlessly carrying you by your thighs, planting his growing erection right against your clothed cunt.
You let out a whimper at the contact, hands clenched amidst his curly strands.
"Nothin' important still?"
"Mm-mm."
"Alright." He pulled away abruptly, causing you to let out such a pathetic whine, you immediately slapped a hand over it. Embarrassment flooded your veins while he chuckled, approaching you again and prying your hand from your face.
Clark tilted his head, looking frustratingly innocent juxtaposing his next words. "You wanna tell me now?" He nuzzled his nose against your temple, glasses hitting your cheek, but he didn't even let you speak before pressing a bruising kiss on your lips.
The contact made you gasp, legs spreading instinctively, and he took it as a sign to immediately cup your pussy. He hummed when you whined against his lips, entirely too smug at his effect on you. "Tell me, honey. Don't go shy on me now."
"Clark…" You warned, though the shakiness in your voice gave away your neediness. "I was-um—just—thinkin' 'bout your—hng!" Your attempt at grinding against his hand was futile, it moved slightly away every time, making sure there was no friction.
"My what?"
"Your cock, Clark! How you—shit—I've always known sex with you was so different and now I know—CLARK!" The man's large palms suddenly grip the backs of your thighs, hauling you effortlessly, reminding you of his strength, before he dropped you onto your sofa.
Your lamp bathed him in a soft orange glow, contrasting the intoxicating look he was giving you through hooded eyes. The blues if his eyes nothing but a thin ring behind his dilated pupils.
The entire living room was silent save for the mix of heavy breathing that slipped past both your lips, and the clink of his belt that had a whimper escaping your throat in anticipation.
Clark made a show of slowly unbuttoning his white dress shirt, a proud smirk dimpling his cheeks. He had always known the effect he had one you—you never shied away from admitting how much you wanted to jump him in the most inconvenient of times; from a balcony at a press gala to his childhood room the first time you visited the Kent's—but now it was different.
A good different.
It was like you were getting to know his body once again.
You would've felt embarrassed at the speed of which you climbed his lap when he finally sat down next to you, clad in only his boxers that strained against his still growing erection. But all you can think about now is the overwhelming strength that coursed through his veins and how he'd been holding it back to prioritize you.
You claim his mouth with your own, not even waiting until he'd given you proper entrance to shove your tongue against his. His warm muscle barely fights yours when you pushed through and flicked the roof of his mouth, swallowing his moans at your obvious lust.
Clark chuckled lightly when you pull away to remove the shirt of his that had now become your pajamas only to surge forward once more when the fabric wasn't even all the way off, trembling fingers pushing off his glasses and throwing it carelessly somewhere as though it offended you.
His nose nudges your cheek when he nudges you away slightly, your breathy 'mngh' making him groan.
With ease that had arousal drenching your underwear, he stood up with your legs still wrapped around his waist, lips dragging kisses down his throat, one hand dragging his boxers down just enough for his erection to spring out and the other splayed across your back.
When he dropped back down the couch, you wasted no time spitting on your hand and wrapping a tight fist around his cock.
His immediate groan rings in your ears and you realize just how much you missed it. How much you missed him.
Those seven whole days were torturous ones. You were left in your empty apartment, mulling over how he was able to keep this a secret his whole life before those sympathetic thoughts melted into lewd ones.
Now, now you had him back. And it seemed like he was more than willing to show you just what he'd kept from you. The most important one being just how long he could keep coming.
Clark was nothing if not an attentive lover, always seeking your pleasure first, and while you appreciated it during the first few months, it started worrying you when he would refuse your offers to make him cum.
You wondered if it was a mental block because it clearly wasn't a physical one—his boners could practically rip the seems of his pants whenever you were coming aport on his finger or mouth.
Your tugging on his cock slows, leaving him thrusting up, trying to find friction. You push at his stomach but your own flips when he didn't back down, easily overpowering you and finding the tiniest bit of friction in your palm. "Fuck, that was—"
A beat passes and he "gives up" in his pursuit of your hand, slumping in defeat against your couch cushions and running his massive palms up and down your sides. You could only look at him with a parted lips before you knelt down in front of him.
"Honey…" Clark breathed, cock twitching at the sight of your hungry eyes.
He felt your warm muscle against the underside of his cock, slowly, reverently, as if you were memorizing every ridge and the prominent vein that ran up his shaft. Your pretty eyes were shut, lashes fluttering against your cheeks as the muscle narrowed approaching his tip.
The tip of your tongue teases his glans, your fingers dragging the flesh down, exposing his tip even more, before you teased his leaking slit with quick relentless kitten licks.
The groan that escaped his chest was guttural, heavenly, you thought, the sound going straight to your core. Clark's fingers tentatively runs through your hair, before he cups your chin in his hand, looking at you with eyes that incentivized you to shove his entire girth down your throat.
And when you did, you would've thought somebody punched Clark right in the gut with the way his entire body curled, balls tight against your chin. His hands curled into your corduroy couch, and your brows raised at the instant tear.
You couldn't even be mad. Not when you looked up to see Clark trying to breath through his building orgasm, head thrown back, his hips completely uncontrollable. The muscles jerk and twitch, inadvertently pushing himself further into your gaping mouth.
You choke slightly at the intrusion before you relaxed your muscles, breathing through your nose and pulling off of his hot flesh. Your cheeks hollow out as you go, tongue swirling around him before lapping at his tip frantically—the liquid that now drips from the corners of your mouth a mix of saliva and his incessantly leaking spend.
"That's it—" He breathed, looking down at you again while you twisted your wrist at his base, pulling his foreskin further. The tip was an angry red now—repeatedly buried beautifully inside your warm mouth. "Oh fuuu—gosh, honey!" Your lips puckered, sucking his head with the tip of your tongue still flicking his slit before you pressed him right against your puckered lips.
You swipe his cock head across your lips, its flushed color akin to a lipstick shade you wore. The sight made him whimper, hips jerking before you took him in, all in one go.
"Lookit you." He murmured, hand still placed firmly underneath your chin, gathering slick as well as guiding your movements. Clark's eyes widens in admiration when he felt your flesh expand, letting him know just how full your mouth is of him.
And boy did you fill full.
He was heavy when it was just his tip you were sucking, but now? Now that you were taking him in slowly, you could appreciate the drag of his cock against every surface of your warm channel, leaving you whimpering when you realized just how heavy he was.
One of your hands pry away from digging into his thighs to cup his balls and fuck.
He was even heavier.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head when his tip goes past your uvula and you feel his balls tighten when your throat gags around him—the movement squeezing his cock head and drenching his cock with even more of your warm saliva.
The heavy ringing in your ear wanes when you hear him mumbling. "How, gosh—good g—oh you're doin' so fuckin' good."
With the right flick of your wrist and the thumbing on his taint, his hot flesh throbs inside your mouth, twitching as his balls tighten in your grip.
And now you understood why he kept refusing your advances to make him come.
You felt it before you tasted it; hitting the back of your throat. It spurted out of his slit in hot insistent ropes, making him pull you off slightly. But you, you only stared at him through your lashes, keeping your mouth clamped around him—determined to swallow all of him.
Only his spend didn't stop after a few seconds. Your throat worked in gulping down his warm and viscid load but could only swallow so much when he kept filling your mouth.
Clark's seed spurts after each and every throb of his cock, trickling through the corners of your lips and causing your eyes to water.
His groans were violent—vibrating through his chest and echoing across your apartment. His adam's apple bobs, curses and whimpers swallowed before they could reach your ears and you moan at the sight of him undone.
The palm that's been cradling your chin finally pulls you off and on top of him.
With your mouth still full of his spend, he wastes no time slotting his lips against yours. Clark hummed when he tasted himself on your taste-buds, smiling against your spit and cum stained lips when you whimpered.
His tongue tickled the roof of your mouth, entirely enjoying the way you tasted together. The feeling of your dripping chin against his didn't even bother him, it only exhilarated his pleasure—the true essence of him is all over your mouth and dripping down your chin, slwoly making its way between the valley of your breasts.
It seemed he wasn't the only one to feel the rush down his spine as he swallowed your every moan, soft hands carrying setting you on his lap.
Your breathy 'mngh's were going straight to his still sputtering cock, making it twitch against his belly.
It wasn't the only thing dripping against him. Clark was always hyper aware of your body and now, now your dripping pussy was flush against his throbbing cock. His wide hands spread your ass cheeks, exposing both your holes to the cool air, and guiding your hips to a soft grind.
"Clark." You whined, hiding your face in the crook of his neck when he chuckled, smug at his effect on you. "I need you inside me. Please."
Your whisper against his flushed skin sent a shiver down his spine. He wasn't any better than you. Neither he couldn't wait to finally feel you around him—to stuff you full of him.
Moans tore itself out of your lungs when he notched his hot tip against your twitching hole, its slit leaking pre inside you. You pressed your thighs flush against his, your pussy stretching, muscles contracting to accommodate his size.
"Kal..." The name had Clark short circuiting, nails biting into your skin as he thrusts into you.
You hadn't meant for it to leave your lips—hell, you only found out a couple days ago—but by his reaction, you wished you knew if for longer. It felt like the name had a grip on him, like hearing it coming from your mouth and accepting the difference with pleasure was enough for his mind to melt.
The moan that left his lips bordered on a whimper. His hands, needy and shameless, start directing your hips up and down, fingers digging into your soft flesh. His hips follow your movements not a moment after, pushing up into you every time yours descends.
"Say it again, honey—mnnggh—say my name again." Clark whined against your temple. "Please…"
"K—ah-!" You try your best to do so, but fail considering how his cock was spearing itself into you—feeling like its reaching your lungs with every thrust.
"Please, honey, please."
You could only whimper in response, shakily leaning away from him with a hand steadying yourself on his shoulder. You groan at the pressure in your belly the new angle brings, head feeling fuzzier when he let out a cry at the loss of contact.
It was as if your hand had a mind of its own, dragging your fingers through his thick spend dripping between the valley of your breasts to circle your hardened nipples, chest hot to the touch.
You keen when Clark snatched your hand away from your breast, only for him to surge forward, lather his tongue across your and his mixed juices and take your nipple into his mouth, pistoning never yielding beneath you.
He hummed against your chest, sending vibrations through your nerve endings, the tip of his tongue lapping at the hardened peaks.
Though suddenly he pulled away and a jolt of electricity ran down your spine when he blew extremely cold air on the already sensitive nipple, causing his name to rip out of your chest.
"Fuck, Kal—!"
Clark let out an unbridled whimper at the name, one hand pulling you in by your waist as the other spayed across your back, keeping his mouth firmly wrapped around your nipple as he tucked you against his chest.
At this point, he wasn't helping you bounce on his cock anymore—he was borderline using you. You were nothing but a mess of limbs against his chest, fingers sharply tugging at his curls, and letting out ah's every time his tip repeatedly hits that spongy spot in your pussy.
Your warm cunt was was so clenched so tight, you could feel ever twitch and throb of his cock—his cock barely leaving you before he shoves it right back in.
The coarse hairs on the base of his cock was rubbing right against your clit with every grind, and the combination of that; his continuous suckling of your breast, and the repeated pounding of your sweet spot had stars shining behind your eyes—the tight rope snapping in your belly.
And he was right there behind you. His hips stutter against yours before he firmly planted your hips against his, leaking slit right against the crux of your cervix.
Ropes upon hot ropes of spend squirt out of his cock, flooding your entire cunt with its warmth until you were full. But even as he slowly retreated, rubbing your hip softly as he does so, his cock continues to spill inside you—still throbbing, still twitching.
Not that you were any better; the grip you had on his girth was unyielding.
So you both stayed there. With his load mixed with yours spilling through your puffy folds. You look at Clark from your spot in the crook of his neck, his lips part slowly from your nipple, a string of saliva connecting him to your flesh.
He laps at the sensitive skin teasingly, chuckling breathlessly when you whined and twitched in his hold. His lips leave a fleeting kiss on your forehead before looked at your wrecked form.
"What?" You ask, breath hitching when he readjusts your positions on the couch, head lying against the armrest, pussy clenching with a sick squelch when he shifted inside you.
Clark's dimples appear when he smiles and you rub your thumb on the indent. "We could've been doing this the whole time if I'd told you sooner."
What files do your Master have you listening too? I’d like to know so I can listen too
So it’s a mix of files made by others, and then audios he has recorded for me. But whenever I listen to the nice girls it’s almost always a Chaos Doll file! I also enjoy all three of the background brainwashing files made by @corruptedbyhim and the cock slut one is my favorite!
Anyways, I linked all of those below for you and included some of my personal favorite files. Hope this helps, Enjoy!
Just a little list of ideas that I came up with on the topic of speech control. Some of these are about in person speaking, some are about texting, some are applicable to both. Some of these I’d like to try, some of these I have tried, some of these I would probably not want to do, some I’m indifferent to.
Word Restrictions
No swearing.
No puns.
Only being allowed to use words once per day.
Only being allowed to use words from a list of pre-approved words chosen by my partner.
Not being allowed to use words from a list of off limits words chosen by my partner, but otherwise able to speak freely.
Not being allowed to use words containing a certain letter of the alphabet, but otherwise able to speak freely.
Only being allowed to use short and simple words, limited by number of letters or number of syllables, or simply at my partner’s discretion. (Imagine typing out an entire text and being met with “hmm, I think that word might be too big for you,” and having to agree and reword what you’ve said.)
Having to refer to myself in the third person.
Having to refer to my partner by a title, honorific, or nickname they have chosen.
Having to use a lowercase “i” to refer to myself.
Having to use capitalized pronouns to refer to my partner.
Limited Speech
Only being allowed to say a certain number of words (or less) per day.
Only being allowed to say a certain number of words (or less) per text message. No double messaging, of course.
Having to keep track of how many words my partner uses, and always using less throughout the day.
Having to start each sentence with “Please” and/or end it with “Thank you,” even if it doesn’t technically make sense.
Having to rhyme. Or else fulfil the requirements of some kind of specific poetry such as a haiku.
Having to ask permission to ask for things. “Please may I ask to use the bathroom?”
Only being allowed to say “Please” and “Thank you.”
Not being allowed to ask for anything.
Only allowed to speak to my partner in public.
Not being allowed to speak on specific topics, particularly when they’re super relevant. For example, we go to the zoo and I’m not allowed to talk about animals.
Only being allowed to say the opposite of what I mean/want.
Restricted Speech
Having to ask permission to speak at all, either through a non-verbal signal, or else the only thing I’m allowed to say without permission is “Please may I speak?”
Only allowed to speak when spoken to.
Having to be in a specific position - the more submissive or uncomfortable, the better - to speak. Additionally, having to wait in that position until I am acknowledged and allowed to speak.
Having to go a set length of time without speaking each day. The timer starts over each time I speak. (Imagine it’s an hour and at 55 minutes you get asked a question you can’t ignore. Each attempt like that would mean you talk less throughout the day.)
When possible, set entire days, or even a weekend as “quiet time.”
Surprise quiet time. That is, a spoken or text command, “It’s quiet time,” and I am expected to be silent until I am released. (A potential training opportunity: this could happen many times throughout the day, each session lasting only a few minutes before the next.)
Starting every day without the ability to speak until I have completed my morning routine. Finishing each day by not being allowed to speak once my nighttime routine is done.
Having a set day of the week during which I am expected to remain silent.
Having a cost to speak. A mild-moderate punishment for each time I wish to speak, such as having to put nipple clamps on first or having to write lines for each time I spoke afterwards.
Having to trade my ability to speak for rewards, such as not being allowed to orgasm unless I agree to a two days of no speaking.
Trading chunks of silent time for edges. Each edge is half an hour of silence. Maybe I know before I start edging, maybe I don’t.
Having to be silent until I have completed a task, such as linewriting, or an edging session, or even something mundane like having to stay silent on a long drive, even while playing a board game.
Having recurring tasks during which I am not allowed to speak, such as never being allowed to speak during meals or while watching movies.
Only being allowed to speak while wearing my collar.
Not being allowed to speak while wearing my collar.
Only being allowed to speak while naked.
No words, only sounds. Easy enough when you’re gagged, but having to make the deliberate effort to only make sounds is nice.
Wearing a bark collar. Each time I speak, I get shocked, until I learn not to speak while wearing it. It then becomes a very effective gag.
Forced to Speak
Being asked a series of questions and having to provide at least X words to answer, on topic. (It wouldn’t even have to be a high number. Imagine having to use 50 words to answer a yes or no question. Even 20 might be a challenge. But being asked to say/text 300 words on why I shouldn’t have an orgasm? Just a thought.)
Agreeing to X number of questions (number could be in trade for edges, or in trade for lessening a punishment) and having to answer them fully, even if it’s embarrassing. (Obviously within limits. Questions I refuse to answer don’t count towards the number.)
Having a mantra to repeat every time my partner says a certain word, whether that word is part of the mantra or not. (Having someone trigger a mantra like this is great fun, especially mid-conversation, or while I’m trying to ask for something, or while I’m trying to explain something.)
Having to repeat after my partner, perhaps modifying pronouns. (“You will obey” being modified to “I will obey.”)
Being tasked with writing up a fantasy, and then being made to read it aloud.
Being Physically Gagged
Being expected to be gagged or otherwise prevented from speaking at all times. (Ballgag might be too harsh for “at all times,” but tape is effective, too.)
Being gagged at random. Not just during scenes, but during mundane activities, such as watching a movie together or doing housework. (I like the idea of being interrupted while in the middle of something, maybe even in the middle of a conversation, and my partner simply holds out a gag. Or sitting at my desk working when my partner comes up behind me and slips my gag between my lips. Being told to kneel and open my mouth, excited to get to suck cock, and instead gagged. Comes with a bonus of being trained to readily take my gag.)
Being told I can only speak while being gagged, despite knowing it will be unintelligible.
Planning a voice call with my partner, but right before we begin I am instructed to put a gag on so that at no point during the call can I actually speak.
Games
Playing the quiet game, either with my partner or with another submissive. I am rewarded if I win, and punished if I lose.
Playing a kinky version of Taboo/Password: My partner picks a word and a length of time. I do not get to know the word, but do get to know we’re playing and for how long. My partner counts every time I use the word, and when time is up, I get punished for each use. Tons of games to be played on both sides, with my partner trying to get me to say the word, and me trying to figure out what it is. Perhaps if the time period is long enough, I get a clue to the word each day. I would probably end up speaking as little as possible to avoid it.
everyday while i fuck my holes and continue with my training i listen to these audios on repeat.
they allow me to turn my brain off completelyyyyy and leak any iq i have left out of my holes.
im sharing this so all stupid cunts can train ourselves better and more efficiently.
if you have any audio porn that makes you a better good girl, repost and add your audio link below so we can all fulfill our purpose to serve Men together 🥰✨
thinking of jack with young!reader girlfriend is making my head dizzy 😵💫
not into feet at all (no kink shaming here!) but the idea of giving him a foot job after this picture has me losing my mind
pls see the vision 🥹🙏
with the fucking ring on…INJECT IT your brain is massiveeee
it would be completely innocent too..lounging around together and just feeling around at his bulge beneath your toes absentmindedly just because it’s there, like you’re literally just on your phone and he’s like grunting small and clearing his throat, widening his legs and bucking up to your touch.
caressing the top of your soles sweetly until it finally clicks in your mind: “Jack are you hard..?” you look up from your phone, seeing his blushy face and furrowed bushy brows. “yeah, i mean-you’re rubbing my cock.” he shrugs, and you giggle bashfully. “you’re so gross jackie..” you tease, though you don’t stop feeling his bulge grow over his thigh. “sure, i’m the gross one.” YES you are you’re SO PERVERTED FUCK KILL HIM
oh to get pulled over for speeding by your husband sammy <3
shrugging your shoulders and forming a wince when you see the officer sammy bryant rolling up to your window. eyes squinted shut a bit at "okaaaay, license and registration."
when he finally gets a good look at you, he's cooing "baby... what the fuck? this is a 30, you were doing 45. what's the rush princess? whatsa matter?"
you're pleased to find out that crying does, indeed, still get you out of a ticket. you're hyperventilating as sammy watches, "shh, shhh okay, okay honey c'mon outta the car."
he opens the door for you, helping you stand up and hugging you, a gentle rock back n forth as he tuts into your hair "gotta be careful baby, you're precious cargo, you know that? huh?" sammy holds you for a few more minutes, big soothing hand running down your back to help even your breaths. you never did like getting in trouble, and it's even worse when you disappoint him.
after a few minutes and a call over the radio, sammy pulls back with thumbs rubbing at your arms. he meets your eye level, putting on that soft dominant voice you love so much, "now get your pretty lil ass back in the car, drive home- slowly now, okay? and go lay down for a little, you're too worked up sweetheart. i'll be home soon, kay? okay baby? alright.. g'head" tapping your butt as you get back in the car, closing the door for you on the way.
when you pull away he smiles at you, making the "i'm watching you" signal with his pointer and middle finger and flashing you his million-dollar, crooked, charming smile.
Envy comes easily when looking at a woman like this, doesn't it?
Part of it is her size, of course. Those massive tits, pumped up to a staggering 2700ccs, simply demand attention. They're almost perfectly round, her skin stretched tight over them, signalling to anyone who sees them that they aren't natural, they aren't from genetics or some sort of condition; she wanted huge, fake tits and she's so very proud of them. Even for a bikini top that appears to be fitted better for breasts of that size than most tops would be, she stretches them to the point of absurdity, to the point of indecency, to the point of pornography. The straps are pulled tight, lifting away from her chest and digging into her shoulders as they struggle to hold back her intentionally and purposefully colossal tits. The reaction she wants from them is singular and overwhelming: pure arousal. A single glance is enough to impart fantasies and desires on anyone who sees them. Images flash in their mine of groping, of squeezing, of sucking, of licking, of sliding between those inflated globes on her chest. And that's not even mentioning the way her lips are plumped full, standing proud on her face, signalling that her mouth is only meant for one purpose and it isn't talking.
But beyond the obvious and undeniably sexuality and sensuality that radiates from the features that modern cosmetics have given her, there is another reason to envy her, isn't there? You see it. I know you do. You feel that craving deep in your chest when you look at her blank expression and her big eyes staring off into the distance without so much as a flicker of light behind them.
She has made herself into a doll, not only physically, but mentally, too. She's blank and vacant and so very happy. She has no thoughts. She has no worries. She has no fears. Those sorts of concepts are too abstract for her now. There's only immediate pleasure and the constant hunt for it. The warmth of the spa feels good on her skin and that's enough for her. Her huge tits feel round and heavy and sexy and that's good enough for her. Her own identity doesn't truly matter anymore as long as she's being used for the pleasure of others. Using her assets to make others feel good is all the satisfaction a doll needs, to be used and played with and enjoyed.
Doesn't that sound nice? Doesn't that sound like everything you've ever wanted? Turning your brain off and just letting go of everything. Letting your thoughts drift off and waving to them as they go, happy and thoughtless and blank. Molding and shaping your body into the epitome of sexuality, perhaps even to the point of absurdity. Inspiring lust and desire in everyone who sees your body and getting to enjoy their arousal without thoughts, without worries, without fears. Empty and mindless, plump and plastic.
Perfect.
All you have to do is start. Take a deep breath and ease your grip on your thoughts. It's okay if you can't let go of them right away. It'll take time. But you have to start. Once you start, once you experience how good it feels, you won't be able to stop. You'll go more and more brainless. You'll do everything in your power to get bigger tits and a rounder ass and fuller lips. Bimbo greed will take over and you will, bit by bit, become like her. Who knows? Maybe you'll wind up even more of a doll than she is. You'll be the one that she looks at with envy while your colossal, sloshing tits are plastered in cum and your overfilled lips are stretched along with your throat. All you have to do is start. The rest is inevitable.
I’m going to tell the dr that I want to be able to see every detail of the implants through your skin. I’ll make sure he keeps overfilling them until they look just like plastic water balloons shoved inside your little boobs.
your taunt was meant to be cruel, edged with a secret clark guarded with his every being. his face contorts in frustration, annoyance ebbing deep within him. his body remained bowed above you, trembling with effort when you deliberately shifted.
his hips jerk involuntarily, tip of his cock grazing your clit, throbbing and aching from having been blue-balled. "don't…say that." you release a shuddering breath as his thumb comes down to your sensitive bud. you jump at the rough callouses, rubbing against it hard.
your gaze snaps up, catching the conflicted look paint his expression, mirroring one of your own when he withdraws completely from you without breaking eye-contact. clark lifts you, a motion that was effortless as he carries you toward the bed. the tense, impulsive air from earlier — wanting to fuck each other so bad that you'd both been on the floor, had been promptly broken, replaced with clark's much more competitiveness and determination to prove you wrong.
he doesn't immediately re-enter you as he lowers you onto the unmade bed. instead, he kneels between your parted thighs. warmer, bigger palms slide up the plush fat, tightening in a painful intensity as he tugs you abruptly to the edge. it knocks the breath completely out of you.
his thumb skirts at the edge of your inner thighs where you were slick with arousal. the silence felt much more unnerving than his usual show of poutiness. "...clark?"
clark leans down, replacing the pads of his thumb on your inner thighs with his mouth. you jump at the press of his lips, followed by the sharp nip of his teeth on the sensitive skin. he works his way upward, holding you still against the mattress.
it's agonising. all of it. his slow explorative touches, all the hot, wet kisses everywhere but where you needed it the most. he's somehow managed to park his own aching need, painfully bobbing against his own abdomen — with the intentional dragging out of your pleasure.
you wince when his gaze meets yours. they aren't unkind, but they're glazed with a new teasing glint you hadn't quite seen from clark yet.
"claaark…quit teasing…"
your sweet plea echoes in the room, and you feel a low, approving hum vibrate against your skin. as though he'd been waiting for you to get the taste of what you'd deprived him of. his mouth wraps around your pussy without further teasing. tongue flattened, pressing a firm and relentless pressure. your back arches off the bed, though restricted with a possessive hold pushing them back down onto the duvet.
"f-fuck! cla — hhrk. don't — stop!"
clark's palm slides up your belly, moving upward to cup your warm, sweat-slick breasts. he squeezes the softness as his tongue works your pussy. dipping in and out of your tight walls and up to your clit. his mouth was just so fucking big that it felt like he was everywhere around you.
helplessly, you buck into clark's mouth, rocking and grinding into the gentle curve of his nose. whimpering incoherently at the assault of his wet, insistent tongue curling to the roof of your cunt.
he knows when you're close. and he sucks your bud hard, the sound wet and obscene in the room, "a-ah fuck! gonna cum. g'na cum!"
clark's acknowledgment rumbles riiight against your clit. he feels the telltale sign of your orgasm as you pulse on his tongue. broken cries spill from your throat as you cum hard, thighs quivering with how clark refused to relent, drawing out every last drop of your slick until you're a trembling puddle beneath him, with an arm strewn over your eyes as you finally come down from the high.
the mattress dips at the shift of his weight, the shadow casting over you ominously just as you think it's over.
he looks to you, desperate and broken, unable to curb his own need. you feel him pry your arm away from your face, "gonna put it in okay? hm?"
you barely get to protest as he positions himself at your entrance. offering you enough time for refusal or hesitation. but the needy look of his gaze was enough for your body to act in compliance. you slide your palm past your navel, to the folds of your cunt, parting it wider for him to see the eager pulse.
a low broken groan rumbles in clark's throat at the sight, the quiet invitation being all he needed. he enters you in a deep thrust, accentuated with a jerk of his hips. you both gasp simultaneously, the overwhelming full feeling coming so soon after your earlier orgasm has you tightening deliciously around his cock.
"mmh…baby you need t'relax," he chokes, enforcing his iron will to make good on his unspoken promise to make sure you feel like he fucked you.
he wanted you to feel him even days after, and that determination was enough for him to keep a languid pace, designed to draw out your pleasure.
and god, it had. each stroke of his girthy cock in your walls, the creamy, slick that made it so much easier for him to fuck your pussy in shallow thrusts. the sounds alone were making your belly churn with need, let alone that sweet spot he hit over and over again.
your palms come up to rest at his abdomen, each thrust making you go dumb, incoherent babbles spilling from your lips. his body remains a fortress. the muscles in his arms tensed and reddened, back rigid and strained with every fiber of him taut.
"s'too…much!" you squeak, weakly pawing at him, in attempt to push him.
clark catches your hands, lacing his own fingers with yours with a single palm, pinning them gently above your head with a pressure that offered you escape if you wished. he keeps at the pace, brows knit in focus.
"i-i can't anymore."
he merely tuts softly at your breathless whisper, clearly having lost all the fight from your earlier taunts. he sees the truth in your words, the trembling or your thighs and blissed out look in your eyes. but he shakes his head, voice low and equally pleading.
"yes…you can."
"claaaaark…" you whine softly as he guides your limp arms over his shoulders, cupping one of your palms flush against his fever-hot cheeks.
"i'm getting real…real close baby," his voice cracks for a second, "can you hold on? f'me?" through laboured pants, he continues grinding and circling his cock into your cunt.
you pulse around him with another, drawn out whine. dragging your nails down his damp, strained biceps. when you offer a weak nod, the bed creaks louder. whispered curses were quickly swallowed when he shifts his angle a tad, hitting a spot in you that made your vision blur.
"fuck! t-there", you gasp sharply, fingers digging into his muscles. you nod hastily, unsure at even what — the insistent probe of his cock in that gummy spot deep within you sent shockwaves through your entire body. pushing you into another, white hot peak. the bed frames only continue scream louder under the relentless motion he keeps up.
"here?" he pants, gaze unfocused as he tilts his body to support his weight, with his forearm against the duvet to keep the angle.
"FUCK, yes! there, there — th—ah!"
your pussy gushes around him with no further warning, fluttering hard along his length as you cum again. a ragged grunt resonates against the side of your head, followed by clark's growls. his hips bucks wildly, body shuddering as he coats your insides deep with spurts of his thick spend.
the force of his very last thrust elicits a screeching crack of the bed frames, and you both drop hard.
the two of you briefly look at each other in a bewildered surprise and synchronised breathing, and you finally break the intense haze.
"shit." you croak, voice hoarse in its delivery.
clark lets out a huff, rolling to his side and taking you with him so you're nestled against his chest instead of being crushed beneath him as he slump.
Stable boy begging the soldiers ransacking his family’s farm not to take their horses, professing his love for the animals which he’s tended for all his life, only for the troops to make him “prove his love” by forcing him to suck the stallion’s cock until it cums on his face, before slinging him underneath it, saddling up and riding away.
Sure, the boy’s screams will give away their position, but they won’t have to worry about that for long. It will only take a few hard jolts for the horse’s cock to thrust especially deep inside the boy, giving him things to worry about other than shrieking his head off.
