masterlist | world cup party | make a request here
summary: that one late summer eveing where your friendship finally crosses that boundary it's been teetering on the edge of for a while.
warnings: sex. unprotected sex. public sex. car sex. touching/fingering. soft and kind of fluffy sex. idk the tits are out again. the climax of a slowburn.
You weren't entirely sure when late summer nights had become yours and John's thing, but it had. Somewhere between the subtle touches of fingertips that lingered a fraction of a second too long to be just friendly, the scenic routes home just to make sure that the other got home safely, the way the late night sunsets filled with drunken laughter had rolled into early morning sunrises with hungover whispers and a shared headache, and the soft glide of your skin against his as your bare legs entangled with his under the bedsheets like it was the most natural thing in the world,
It had become an almost unpsoken agreement; the afterparty of a social event in which only the two of you were invited to — where the drinks continued to flow well into the early hours of the morning, and bodies crept closer than they would under the scrutiny of other, prying eyes. It would start with an innocent hand on your leg — your ankle, maybe even a thigh, then legs would somehow tangle together, and then weight of a body against another. A head on a shoulder. An arm stretched across the back of the sofa. A seat in a lap. Fingers in hair. Hands running up and down a spine. A head on a chest. A thigh slid over another thigh.
Tonight, as the cloudless sky slipped from a tangerine daydream into the deep indigo, you were sat in the passenger seat of his grey BMW 3 Series. The car was parked in a secluded spot, surrounded by tall trees and empty grasslands. His headlights were dipped but still a stark white light against the otherwise pitch black surroundings, and the heaters blew out a soft but warm breeze.
Your back rested against the passenger side door, your legs nonchalantly draped over the centre console and resting in his lap. You brought the straw of your milkshake up to your mouth, the paper gliding along your bottom lip before taking a sip, as your eyes settled on the man sitting beside you in the driver's seat. As you swallowed, your head tipped back slightly, resting against the cool glass of the window.
You could feel the heat of his gaze on you — the oppressive weight of his green-grey eyes on you from the other end of the car. The corners of your lips curled upwards ever so subtly, an involuntary twitch of your features, as your eyes met his for a brief moment. A soft, almost breathy, laugh filled the comfortable silence between you both. Your hand dipped into the paper bag of popcorn chicken and pulled out a piece. You held it and aimed, before throwing it towards him.
A low chuckle rumbled through John's chest as he leant forward — opened-mouthed — to catch the piece of chicken.
You watched him from your casual position in the passenger seat — your eyes peering up at him. There was something different about the way you watched him this time; there was a warm, almost affectionate glint in your eye, and the way your features had softened so naturally didn't go unnoticed. The creases in your forehead had ironed themselves out, your lips has tinged a rosy shade of pink, and the apples of your cheeks had heated to a delicate peach colour. There was something distinctly different in the way your eyes glazed-over as you watched him.
And that fact wasn't lost on John either. He felt the warmth of your gaze — the tenderness of it all. It was something that he reciprocated, without even knowing he was doing so.
With a deep exhale, you pulled yourself up into a sitting position. Your legs shifted to tuck underneath you, and your elbows rested on the leather of the centre console. You held the paper bag open, then tilted it towards John. A silent offer for more.
John's eyes flicked down to the open back of popcorn chicken. He repositioned himself also, his broad shoulders leaned forwards and his body centred towards you. He took the bag of chicken from you and palced it on top of his dashboard; he wasn't interested in the chicken anymore. The amosphere in the car had shifted — it was subtle, but he felt it.
Your eyes followed his movements and watched as his finger came to rest underneath your chin. He tipped it upwards, angling you so you peered upwards and met his gaze. His head dipped gently, and his soft lips found yours. The over-grown stubble that covered his jawline brushed against your skin, sending a wave of electricity along your skin.
There's a brief moment where you freeze, your mind and body registering what was happening. A second later, your gentle lips are moving with his and your arms are slowly snaking themselves around his neck. The embrace is soft, delicate and raw; a release of weeks, maybe even months, of pent up anergy.
It isn't long before the air begins to shift in the car; there's a sultry heat that begins to build.
John pulls back from the embrace briefly — his lips leaving yours swollen and absent of the warmth they were just pleasantly enveloped in. The heat of his palms slides along your silhouette, guiding your body over the centre console and into his lap. Your knees settle either side of his hips as you straddle him, your body moulded against his.
One of his hands stretched down the side of the seat and presses the lever, pushing his seat backwards. Your body follows his, still pressed against his chest as your lips move with his. He brings that same hand up to nonchalantly trail along the curvature of your spine — keeping you in place. The other palm finds the arch of your ass and settles beneath it, the heat of his palm seeping through your thin gym shorts.
Your tongue caresses John's in a soft battle of open-mouthed kisses as his hand slides along your hip. It travelled down your thigh and settled between you — feeling the weight of your body pressed against his. The pad of his thumb brushes over your core through your shorts, sweeping back and forth, pulling a soft breath from the very depths of your lungs. He trailed along the length of your folds, caressing them tenderly, before bringing his thumb back up to circle your the sensitive bud of nerves again.
With another, almost whine-like breath, you pulled back from the heated kiss. Your head tipped back, and you peered up at him through thick, dark lashes. The glint in your eyes was distinct — a silent: there's no going back from this.
With his thumb still slowly encircling your clit, John raised an eyebrow at you. "You sure about this?" he asked, voice low.
You pressed your lips together in a thin line as you considered his words. You were sure. Of course you were sure. There wasn't an ounce of doubt in your bones. Your eyes fluttered shut as a sweet, salacious whine whistled through your exhale. You felt a pulse ripple through your pussy, and a dampness spread in your shorts right where his thumb worked you so effortlessly. Then, with another deep breath out, you nodded your head.
"Good," John's voice rumbled through the car.
You shifted once again, leaning back against the steering wheel. You eased the tight shorts down your thighs in a somewhat ungraceful maneuvre and sent them flying haphazardly into the backseat. You were left bare below the waist as John's thumb found your delicate clit — caressing it in slow, teasing circles as you repositioned yourself in his lap.
You let out a low, quiet moan as your hands moved to his sweatpants, pushing them down and out of the way. He was half-hard from the way your body had pressed against him, hips moving softly against his own. Then, a few strokes of your hand — taunting him from the very base of his length to the tip — had his cock standing to attention.
A low, sultry moan ripped through your chest as you slid down his length, and leant forwards against his body. Your arms coiled around his neck once more as your lips captured his, just in time to swallow the gravel-like groan that came from John.
Your hips moved in steady circles, lifting every so often. His thick cock slid in and out of you with a practised ease — one that sent constant hits of dopamine surging through your body, and had soft whines spilled from your swollen lips. The wet, sticky sounds of your bodies coming together as one, both between your thighs and at your lips, echoed around the car. You let out soft breaths and sultry moans, as John accentuated the filthy chorus with a low grunt every so often.
After what felt like an eternity of this slow, sensual movement, you repositioned yourself. Your lips tore from his as you moved backwards. You leaned backwards, your hand gripping the steering wheel behind you for support. Your thighs remained spread, your knees either side of his body, as you continued to ride his length with a slightly faster pace. You were close.
His steady hand reached up and pushed your tank top up and out of the way. The warmth of his palm spread across your breast as he palmed it gently, the pad of his thumb brushing against your nipple.
With a high-pitched whine, you threw your head back — your lascivious hips working overtime. Your spine arched at an ungodly angle as an intense ripple soared through your body. It emanated from your wet heat and spread ecstasy all the way to the very tips of your toes. A load, saccharine moan spilled from between your rosy, swollen lips as your pussy squeezed in pulses around his dick, and your slick dripped between you both.
The tight, unrelenting squeeze of your pussy on his cock sent him over the edge. His fingertips dug crescent shapes into the bare flesh of your waist as he pushed his hips upwards — spilling unashamedly into you. You felt the warmth of his seed spread through you as you collapsed on top of him. You leant forwards, body pressed against his chest with full weight, and found his lips against. What started as soft, almost sweet kisses, turned into an attentive kissing session filled with exploring tongues and teasing nibbles once again.
These are the photos, you can also check Instagram, they posted videos. (It may say you need to sign in to view, but I was able to "x" out of it and still view it)
oh hello dec! that colour and the long sleeves look good on him!
lwk would get whiplash from how different the two of them are in bed. poor john is so vanilla and sweet and lovessssss praising you. he’s so unsubtly needy and desperate but tries to put on a dominant facade bc he’s experienced and tough but could probably finish just from touching you. HOWEVER jordan would be so energetic with a sort of natural dominance about him. he’s joking with you but he’s mean about it. like he’ll laugh at you, never explicitly degrading, but mocking and teasing y’know.
i will have more thoughts but this is my initial response.
ok so note from the anon: they mean stonesford threesome
i don't think he's vanilla, i just think he's vanilla compared to picks. picks def likes to throw you around, is all rough and ready and he fucks hard. he's grabbing at your hair, yanking on it, handprints on your ass type shit.
john is all about the mutual pleasure. he knows what to do with it! that man gives good head!
dailybridgerton
andulkaphoto
