actually im curioussss, for those of u with Astartes oc’s, have they met their primarch? what were the circumstances, was it often, what was that meeting like etc etc
Only one of my Astartes Oc's knew their primarch, Caius (a Salamander), was just a boy when he met his primarch and later on again when he became an astartes. Out of all of his brothers in his chapter, he is the only one who truly knew Vulkan in the flesh, and because of that he has been able to manipulate his brothers.
Simon Riley being your cruise ship crush, the one you couldn’t keep your eyes off when you first laid your gaze on him.
It was just as you lost one of those zombie shooting games, a family that wore clothing that screamed nothing but old money and probably generational wealth staring you down. “Do you mind?” To be fair, it was your fifth time playing the game, so you scrambled away fairly quickly to the next closest one. Though, as soon as you landed your hands on the new set of controls, a voice had perked up behind you.
“I.. was actually using that.”
The tall man standing behind you was terrifying to say the least, and you probably hallucinated a glare in his eyes because you stepped back immediately. “I’m so sorry.” Though instead of running away this time, you just stopped and stared, quite literally admiring the view.
He was wearing a hoodie but you could see the ripple of his muscles beneath, and even though he had a cap on his head, you could make out the blonde tufts of hair peeking behind. But what really had you enthralled was how soft his eyes were, velvety and deep though you could bet they’d be like honey in the light.
—-
It’s cooler in the evening, a breeze soothes your body compared to the sweltering heat earlier that day. The kids are in the pool, adults with martinis in hand and a movie is set to play soon. Eventually, you settle on the emptier side of the deck on an unused pool floatie, a glass of juice in your hand; the waiter was nice enough to give you one for free. The movie has started to air, the familiar intro of nearly every Hollywood movie echoing around the top deck of the cruise ship.
“You mind if i sit ‘ere?”
A gruff voice snaps you out of your trance, a familiar one at that too. You look up, recognising the man from before, cap still lowered slightly over his eyes, and you quickly nod, shuffling up. “Yeah, sorry. You’d be doing me a favour actually.”
“How so?”
You look away sheepishly, and then point to that same family a few metres away from him. “I kind of lost track of time on one game and they were staring me down. Just looking at them makes me embarrassed.”
He just chuckles in response to your hushed words, though it’s not like the movie isn’t extremely loud anyway. “You here on your own?’ You blink, suddenly forgetting your entire life when he looks at you like that, eyes directed deep into your own. It takes you a moment to recover before you shake your head quickly.
“My family are here too, but they all have their own plans, so kind of.. Are you?” He probably wasn’t, and his friends would return too, or even his wife– you would be honestly surprised if someone hadn’t snatched him up yet.
“Was supposed to be here with a friend, but we kind of fell out last month. I’m on my own.”
“Oh, that’s rough..Sorry.”
It falls silent, and you decide to not speak any further unless he does. After all, he might just want some peace and quiet, not someone yapping into his ear. As the movie continues, you quietly shift, growing uncomfortable and a little bit bored. You figured whatever movie they put on would be good, but you suddenly feel very antsy knowing this hulk of a man is sitting centimeters away from you. The family from before gets up as their kid starts to grow tired, young enough to act out so they are probably taking him back to their room. You’re debating getting up at the same time as them, so you can make a quick escape and not disturb anyone else around. As usual, you end up overthinking it so much, as soon as you build the courage to stand, they’ve already disappeared.
“What’s wrong?” A cold hand settles on your arm and you almost jump, eyes wide as you look back over to him.
“I was going to go to the bathroom.. But I just lost my chance..”
All of a sudden, he holds your wrist and pulls you up, before promptly pulling you along and out of the crowd through the doors and back to the corridors again. “Think they’re this way.’ With his.. guidance , you make it to the bathrooms and you go inside with a quick thanks for helping you out of that situation. Right, he probably wanted to get out too. When you leave, he’s on the opposite end of the hall, waiting for you to return.
“I wasn’t planning to go back– did you miss the movie to wait for me? I’m so sorry-” You begin but he just laughs again, shaking his head to silence your string of apologies.
“No worries, I hated that movie anyway. I’ll walk you back to your room.”
A small smile graces your lips at his offer, a quiet thump starting to grow louder in your chest with each step you take. He asks you small questions on the way, and you dont complain once, feeling like your mind is floating on a cloud. When you finally reach your room, he stops, letting you tap your keycard against the door. “You wanna hit the pool tomorrow morning?”
“S-sure, what time?”
“I’ll text you it.’
He puts his number into your phone, and you put yours into his, before excusing yourself with red hot cheeks and closing the room door firm behind you. Simon. It was written there in the contact page. You needed to sleep very early tonight.
—-------
A pounding excitement is already in your heart when you wake up, and it only grows bigger when you check your phone for any message from him. You exit onto the outer deck as the sun still barely has risen, noticing the few people loitering around to watch it fully rise. He’s already sat there, lips curving into a smirk as you approach.
From there it’s like all the romcoms you’ve ever watched mashed into one, days going by where you only get closer to one another. Early morning swims become a regular occurrence, and sometimes you even grab dinner with him, though he never seems to be around at lunch. It doesn’t bother you though, because your phone lighting up shows he wants to do the stupid indoor obstacle course and you don't even hesitate to get up and head there right away.
The only times you feel nervous with him is when you get caught admiring him, his head turning and catching you by surprise– he looked pretty damn focused on the setting sun but he always seemed constantly aware of his surroundings. You were on the highest deck, a small viewing point that he had helped you climb the ladder to, grabbing your waist and lifting you up. Now you gripped the railing he leaned his arms on, instead now he was staring directly at you. Just like that first day you were enthralled by the softness his eyes had, no matter how sharp his other features are.
“Y’alright?” He tilts his head, and you nod, looking down at the pool below, where you held your first actual conversation. It’d been two weeks since then, but somehow it felt like an eternity ago and yesterday all at the same time. You snicker as you see that same family as before, the one that had intimidated anyone in their way.
“What’s up with them anyway? They act so posh, you think they own the cruise ship or something?”
His breath hitches for a second, and he looks over at you, that same cap hiding his blonde hair that you so desperately wanted to feel beneath your fingertips. “Uh, yeah– yeah, they probably do. Act like right snobs.”
You snort at that; the conviction in his voice is nothing short of amusing especially since he tended to act pretty calm except from the time a kid knocked the ice cream right out of your hand. “Little shit” he had muttered as he stepped up to buy you another one, not letting you argue your way out of it.
Goosebumps rise on your arms, the last sliver of the sun disappearing beneath the horizon and all of a sudden he puts an arm around your shoulders, and steers you back to the ladder. “C’mon, should go back down now before it gets too dark.”
—--------------
It’s a few days later when the cruise ship finally stops off at its first city, a quaint little town in Italy. You nervously knock at his room door, having finally built up the courage all week to ask him to explore with you. However, you’re met with nothing but silence, and the room door beside his opens. “Already left, heard him on the phone to someone.”
Oh.
You shook any worries out of your head– maybe he was just meeting a friend out there? So you took your own things, and joined the rest of the passengers into the city and the cruise owned tour bus. Though, you couldn't stop yourself for too long, texting him soon after to ask if he'd like to at least grab dinner with you. To your surprise, he doesn't answer until the end of the day, apologising about being very busy with something and he wouldn’t be free for at least another day. So, you reluctantly let it slide, knowing he probably would never mean to cause you harm, or anything of the like. Maybe he’s just feeling a bit ill.
You’re picking at your food at breakfast the day the cruise ship starts moving again, when you feel a palm on your shoulder, and then the chair being dragged out beside you. “Sorry, love, didn’t mean to leave you. Just had some plans already from months ago.”
Love. It was probably unintentional, a pet name that slipped out since he was still waiting for your answer with not even a hint of a reaction on his face. Of course you just shake your head, dismissing any bad feelings that may have swelled up over the past few days. “It’s okay, I should've asked you in advance.”
“You wanna hit the pool again? Missed you this mornin’ “
You were there this morning though– you couldn't sleep, and there was nothing better to do anyway. “I was there.”
“Must’ve been a different one then– c’mon.”
—---------------
Glow in the dark sticks, bracelets, necklaces and even hats– everyone was wearing at least one if not two of them as they entered the dark room. The lights slowly started to come on too, the music already loud drowning out cheers and the clinking of glasses as friends took their first shots of the night. It was disco night on the cruise ship, more for the adults, but kids were welcome to sit in the booths too with some fun mocktails at a discount. You stood to the side, phone nervously in hand as you watched more and more people enter yet still no sign of Simon in the slightest. He confirmed he would come earlier, promised even, but still there was no show of him at all. Even that snobby family was sitting in a booth, the mother sipping her wine and you’re surprised this is even the type of scene for them.
Minutes turn into an hour, and then another, until still he doesn't reply and there’s only an hour left until the bar closes and everyone heads back to their rooms. It’s well past midnight now, and even the woman bartending has been nice enough to talk to you throughout the night. Well at least you made a friend here. Some guy did try to hit on you though, a scot from his noticeable accent and he even told you the guy you were waiting for was probably an idiot. Or you assume he said that– you couldn't exactly understand what he had said over the loud music. Still, you rejected him, nicely of course, and decided to walk back to your room, upset and lonely once more.
“I’m so sorry, I got a really bad stomach bug, and have been in bed for hours. Must’ve passed out. Sorry.”
You sigh as you stare at your phone, feeling guilty for thinking he had intentionally stood you up. Of course he wouldn't, he could never.
You offered to help him the next day, asking if he wanted breakfast dropped off, but apparently the guy next door had been nice enough to bring him some already. Still, you worried about him all day, already forgetting that he stood you up and focused more on his health instead. He assured you he’d be fine though, and insisted you do some activities you wanted to try, so reluctantly you listened.
—-----------
You’re up on that same vantage point when you hear the ladder made a soft creak, the sound of someone likely coming up. It’s been three days, and you’ve been worried sick, but there’s nothing much you can do but wait for him to feel better. In your hands is the small origami bird you made, during one of those silly workshops. It was the one you wanted to go with him, but it’d have to do for now.
You turn, preparing to leave and let the newcomer enjoy their time up here only to be face to face with Simon, his lips pulled into a gentle smirk as he slowly approaches. “Hiding out up here, hm?”
“Well it’s not like you asked me to hang out.” You frown back, but he knows it’s nothing more than a playful jab, his hand gently taking yours.
“Came to collect you, actually.”
Soon enough, he’s pulled you to a little table on the far side of the outdoor restaurant, the chairs set up right against the railings so you can look over at the sea and the horizon beyond. It’s late, probably too late for dinner, but he calls the waiter over anyway, confirming that you’re here.
There are a few other people around, some families, some couples who mirror your exact selves, though you try to not think about that too hard, instead focusing on that posh family from before.
“Really? It’s like they follow us wherever we go..” You groan, stubbornly moving your gaze away from them so they dont haunt you anymore. He just chuckles, though his breath did catch like before, and nods.
“Don’t know how people go on months long cruises–i’d get sick of the same faces.”
Before you can think about it further, the waiter brings over two mocktails, and then some starters. Garlic prawns served with lemon and some courgettes and parsley, and another platter of chicken gyozas. More come until you have at least five assortments of starters on your table, your eyes wide at the professionalism done with each dish. Simon just gestures for you to eat, and so you hesitantly try each one, smile growing bigger with each new flavour that hits your mouth.
Talking with him over dinner like this is more than you wanted, than any disco or any silly city excursion. He makes silly jokes but ones that make you crumble nonetheless, and his intelligence is obvious in every response he gives to you.
“This was soo good, Simon! I didn’t even think cruise ship food could be this good!” You had mainly been eating at a restaurant on the complete opposite side of the ship, so this was a surprise for you to say the least. “I’m stuffed, I think i’ve been fed for three days..”
“Glad you liked it, but you’re not done till I say you are.” He calls over the waiter, who takes his card and processes the payment, even when you try to argue to pay half. Then, as you both stand, he takes your hand again.
-
“Simon.. That damn family…” You groan as he drags you to the poolside, which is far quieter today because of something else happening on the other side of the ship. To be honest, you were going to ask him to go with you, but you figured he’d likely say no again.
“Shh, just ignore them. C’mon we get such a good view from here.”
You lean over the railing, looking out at the sea below, the lapping waves and the darkness beginning to swallow the sun’s last rays of the day. “It’s just the sea..” You mumble, despite loving it nonetheless, the salty breeze and the coolness running up your sleeves.
“No, silly.” He gently grabs your chin, turning your head to look back at the ship. For a moment you’re confused, wondering why you’d even want to look at the ship, until you hear the soft whistle and a shot of white burst into a million different colours in the sky. It keeps on going, getting better with each one that fills the entire night sky. It’s captivating, and romantic, and you don't even bat an eye when that damn annoying family start whispering, concerned looks across the father’s face.
Simon’s arm has settled around your back, settling on your hip as he protectively squeezes you close to him, before kissing you on the cheek. That’s what breaks you out of the trance, your eyes wide when you turn your head just for your nose to bump his unmasked face. He lets out a low chuckle, purposefully touching noses to whisper. “Can I kiss you?”
Another firework explodes in the sky as your hands lock behind his neck, his own hands tight on your waist as your lips lock, entranced by each other.
—-------------
The cruise would end soon. You had one more pit stop, and you were determined to spend this part of the trip with him before the day-long ride back to where you departed. In your hands you cradled a gift for him, fingers running over the ridges of the little clay turtle laying on his back. A pretty cute tray if you do say so yourself, seeing as you made it in a workshop the other week.
You stood in the main hall, closer to the quieter side of deck, after having texted him an hour ago to meet you out here. It was early enough that he surely hadn't left yet, and to be honest, there was something else you planned too.
It’d been a while of knowing him now, and ever since that kiss the other night you were buzzing with excitement. If that wasn't proof enough you didn't know what was. You needed to know how he felt, if he wanted to actually be with you. Hell, you’d be the happiest person alive if you actually got to see him again after this cruise.
As the time passes, you lean against the wall, watching early risers start heading out to where the ship is docked today. Other families had just woke up for breakfast, slowly crowding the halls with hungry kids and sometimes even a hungover parent. Yikes.
You wait longer, and longer, checking your phone only to recieve no notification. A shame really, it probably was your own fault for telling him so last minute. Damnit, what if he had another plan already?
It’s ironic that you happen to see that posh family again, making you roll your eyes. What is even the point of a cruise like this if they look so miserable? The poor kids you think, well at least they got to play in the arcade that one time. It was always a core childhood memory for you too.
You tuck your phone into your pocket, ready to give up when suddenly loud boots echo in the hallways. Confused, you snap your head towards the other side of the long hall, seeing military personnel file in and most surprisingly, the father of the posh family curses loudly and starts to fight one of the soldiers if not for another helping him subdue him. Some of the other cruisegoers flee, and even you back up, terrified by the guns suddenly pointed around the area and the ones strapped on their backs.
“Yer coming with us.” The Scot from the bar is there, dressed in full military gear, his knee on the man's back as another soldier handcuffs him, other members going to escort the mother and child out of the cruise. Then the soldiers start filing in too, strapped and ready and then there at the front of it.
“Good work, Simon.” A soldier and a hat shakes the hand of the man you’ve given your heart for, dressed in the uniform himself. He smiles at the man, pulling up a surgical mask as a rough hand of the Scot pats his back. “We fuckin got em!”
All the weeks you gave up for him, the days you watched his facial expressions change. That damn family always lingered nearby, and whenever you spoke, it was always dismissed just as fast.
You were just part of a cover story, an alibi. A distraction so they wouldn't see the operation going behind it. A fake love, just to dangle you so you’d hide him from view.
The turtle drops from your hands, smashing against the floor at your feet. Simon turns where he stands, looking towards the source of the noise to lock eyes with you. His face is hidden now, but you feel like you’re seeing the true him instead. How ironic.
You should’ve known it was too good to be true, you think, stepping away as fast as you can, and dashing down the corridor as soon as you pass his line of view. You should’ve seen the signs.
W: Butch! Adler, Fem! Adler, Scissoring, Pussy Eating, Shy! Reader, Age Gap
Never in your life did you expect to be in this position. You were sitting between this woman's legs, her pussy right in front of you, glistening in the dim lighting of her bedroom, and slick with discharge. You rubbed her clit just to see her reaction and were granted a low moan followed by a jolt from her hips.
"Come on, stop teasing." She moaned.
You smile up at her before pressing your mouth against her pussy. You lick at her lips, making sure to get her clit in the process. She bucks at you and puts a hand to the back of your head, pushing you closer to herself.
You sucked on her clit all while your fingers quickly made work of her. In and out of her pussy, one finger followed by another and then another. Her legs clutched around your head and her moans became nothing more than broken gasps and prayers. The more you kicked the more she groaned, the e harder you suckled the louder she became.
You tried remembering what got you here in the first place. Was it the shy kiss shared outside of a bar? Was it the nursing she let you do in her car after a date? You don't care all that much; in the end, you got your treat.
Her glasses had slid off their normal perch at the top of her nose; instead, they were crooked and threatening to fall from her face as he bucked her hips into your face. She looked down at you, her eyes wandering your face, or at least what she could see of it. She thought you looked cute on your knees, and even better as you ate her out. She had no real words to say, just gasped moans and broken praises she couldn't process.
She got lucky with you. You matched her, kept pace with her. She knew the moment you began stuttering that you were meant for her to have. Unlike you, she knew the moment you were both meant to be together.
It started at a lesbian bar, the only one in your state, and she quickly took a liking to you. You drank in silence on a couch, made eye contact from across the room, and shyly looked away as she stared back. She approached you, she sat next to you, made herself known as she extended her hand to you, even as she leaned in closer to you to tell you her name. Your breath hitched as you felt her lift your hand to her mouth to kiss it. You fell right into her lap; she had you sitting on her, her hands roaming your hips, your legs, your body, as you apologized for being heavy. She didn't care, she could barely hear you anyway, she was too engrossed in the way your lips moved as you talked and the glint in your eye to notice her legs were falling asleep.
You made out in that club, shared numbers, and eventually went on dates with each other. Kisses at restaurants that only she could afford to pay for, makeout sessions in the alley beside the bar she frequented, late-night breast worship where she'd bite at your nipples and you'd suck on hers in exchange. She loved it when you took the lead, too, letting you fuck her with her own strap and praising her. She'll never admit that she loves the cute pet names you give her when you dominate her, but she loves it, loves that you call her pretty when she's squirting all over you from the orgasm you pulled out of her.
But to her, this, this right here, was the best. You were worshipping her, taking care of her, you were getting on top of her and telling her to lie down. Adler didn't argue, just simply complied and watched as you spread her legs again to slot yourself above her. You sat down, your exposed pussy pressed against her own. The moment you began to move, she couldn't help but let out a loud moan.
Your clits rubbed together, her guys' discharge acting as lube. The sound of wet skin rubbing together, hips moving, and idle hands caressing bare skin and rubbing her pelvis had her seeing stars.
By the time it finished, by the time she came all over your pussy and you came on her leg, her breathing was hard and ragged. Your skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, and just as you were coming down from your high, you felt tears beginning to prickle in your eyes. Adler took notice and quickly pulled you towards her.
"Come here, sweetheart." She had you lie your head on her chest, her heart thrumming hard but slowly steadying. You held on to her, your emotions slowly coming down as you relaxed. She brushed your head, reassuring you that it's all ok, making sure to kiss your forehead to show you she was there. You fell asleep on her chest, not noticing the lovesick look she was giving you as she watched you.
I was gen gonna have a mental breakdown but i decided it would be more productive to read Hard Ice p3. Your fic saved my day omggg :)))
as a figure skater, how do you feel about the results of the latest winter Olympics? or do you not follow up with it much
Hi anon! I’m going to give the most honest take. People need to actually get a grip about the men’s and women’s results.
Pair skating was for sure rigged, the judge had a previous history of over scoring and under scoring.
But people on TikTok and instagram have lost their actual minds over the fact that quads don’t win medals. The scoring system is set so that you can thrive with even horrible technique, it’s set by the same system that promotes and pushes for child abuse and ED’. That is not a system I’m a fan of at all. Athletes make sacrifices already to be at the top of their sports and adding extra health complications, that force early retirement, is not something I’m at all interested to uphold.
Alyssa, forgive me if I spelled her name wrong, won by literally skating clean, something that people seem to think doesn’t matter because “quads and triples are way cooler”. Have you ever notice how people who are doing quads now don’t have clean landings or entrance? Did she pre rotate? Yeah, but everything else was clean. Most judges no longer even consider pre rotations as point deduction worthy, just another sign that the scoring system is not working. She showed us that figure skating at its core is about the balance of artistry and technique. Her win was very well deserved.
As for Illias loss, people need to get a grip. He’s 21, he has time to train and refine his skills. He also needs to check his ego. “Quad god” when his quads look messy. A name he gave himself. His loss was a mix of over confidence and anxiety, I can’t judge him for the anxiety as anyone that young would feel that way (reference Nathan Chen at his first Olympics). People saying that Misha, winning was not right because he’s not “the quad god” is major pmo. He won, he did a pretty clean program, he worked hard for this just as the fan favorite. People complaining about the ice, about the judges, about how Misha only won cause he “usually skates on bad ice” are not helping Illia. Being angry and disappointed at one’s failures are valid, but to make comments like “of this was Beijing-“ doesn’t make you look like a graceful loser.
People honestly are mega irritating, and I stay away from them cause I’m not about to argue with someone who can’t see beyond their own bias.
W: Awkward Flirting, Coach Adler, Figure Skater Reader, Mean Adler, Mean Reader
Prev/Next
The date went as well as you expected, i.e, awkward and yet oddly perfect. Adler let you order for the both of you as he had no idea what to get, claiming he trusted your judgment. He paid for the drinks and carried them to a table near a window overlooking a park. He dropped his bag beside him while you hung yours on the back of your chair. You both took a sip of the drink and enjoyed it in silence.
"I didnt see you with your coach today. Was it his off day or something?" He asked, taking another sip from his drink. He paused as he felt the tapioca pearls bounce inside his mouth, and he began to chew them tentively.
"I dont really have a private coach. I should get one but thats too expensive." You explained.
"I thought you had one, since your so advance and all that."
"I dont really need one, its not like im competing. I like the artistry of the sport more than anything so i prefer doing showscases or general shows for the rink." You watched as Adler took in what you said, his brows furrowing in the process.
"Shows?"
"Yeah, the rink does these shows for the holidays or just special events. I usually sign up to do those." You nurse your drink, staring out the window at the people walking around the park.
The day was sunny and the weather was mild, a light breeze was present but overall the sun was warm. Families where out and about, playing, walking, or even having picnics.
"Why not compete?" Adler asked.
"I... I dont really care for it? The new scoring system values the 'what ifs' then the 'cans'. You can do everything right and still fall short, but if you fuck up on a hard move, you can still win even if you failed it." You complained.
You had competed before, you liked it, the thrill of competition. In truth, you where an adrenaline junkie with a drive for a friendly competition, but with an fresh injury that hasnt healed fully and the lack of money made it hard to get back to training for competition.
Your woe's were real though, you did truly believe that the system is junk and favors some more than others. You get the desire for more impressive skills but, any skill is impressive if you perfect it. Most people cant perfect their quads and theres people barely perfeting their axels generally. You mourned the loss but you didnt envy it.
"Sounds like someone has a grudge." Adler joked, smirking behind his drink.
"Yeah, sure... Anyways, what about you? Are you too old or too unathletic to compete?" Adler choked on his drink while you chuckled to yourself. His face flushed and his hair was out of place. He lost composure but quickly regained it, clearing his throat in the process.
"No, thats not at all why. I just think the competition is lacking."
"So thats why you havent competeted since your prime?" You jabbed.
"Im still in my prime, excuse you." He made himself comfortable in his chair before fixing his hair.
"But you only coach now?"
"I coach cause these kids need guidance. Some of them more than others." You rolled your eyes at the comment but smiled at him anyways.
"Lies." You teased. Adler smiled at you, his eyes wondering to yoru mouth and then up to your eyes.
He leaned forward, his arms on the table as he stared at you behind his glasses. You could finally see them, even if a little hard to. His eyes were crinkled, his crows feet evident. He was oddly expressive for someone who hid their face all the time.
"Why not give coaching a try?" He asked.
"I coach sometimes, mainly the kids, but im too busy with work to make it a full time thing. I wish i could though." You guessed there was something interesting on your face, Adler wouldnt move away but instead he reached out towards you. His hand pushed back a piece of hair that hald fallen to the side of your face, and he tucked it behind your ear.
"Im sure youre a great coach. Youre just a little mean." It was your turn to scoff, you acted offended before swatting his hand away playfully.
"Yeah, right. I'm the mean one." Adler laughed and leaned back in his chair.
You can feel him staring at you, his gaze heavy even behind the glasses. You squirmed in your chair, not used to the intense gaze. It was different than the usual looks you got when being coached or judged. It was pensive, thoughtful. He was looking at you with wonder.
"It's getting late, I should go." You finish your drink, but pause before getting up from your chair. Adler followed suit, also getting up, but taking your cup from you and throwing it away.
"I should. It was nice getting a drink with you. We should do this again." You agreed with him. This was oddly nice.
"Maybe I can get your number to set something up?" Adler asked.
"Sure." You hand over your phone, letting him type in his number before he sends himself a message. His phone pinged, and a smile crept on his face as a result.
"I'll text you." He said, before grabbing his bag and leaving you in the shop.
You looked down at your phone, looking at what he texted himself.
W: Beach Sex, Vouyerism, Public Sex, Old man is old, Breeding
Retirement treated him nicely. Sunny skies, fresh air, and the ocean view he longed for. He had a nice house overlooking the vast sea and a section of private beach where he can sun bathe in peace while smoking a cigarette and drinking scotch.
He was living it up, and then he met someone new. You were on a short vacation, enjoying the natural beauty of the Bahamas, but also doing some of the most touristy things.
You had walked by his house frequently enough that you had started chatting and were even invited to drink with him. You both got cozy with each other and shared a short kiss outside of his home while you left for your hotel.
He didn't expect that, at his age, he would be playing games like a college student. He thought those days were behind him. But he was needy and feverish. He wanted to taste your skin, wanted to be consumed by your smell. He craved intimacy he had been missing for years.
So when you invite him to the beach, only the two of you and no one else, he takes the offer. He's no longer in his prime, his body is soft with a nice layer of fat but he's fit, he feels good about himself. He shows off his strength to you, showing off of easily he can pick you up.
The fun he's having spending time with you is overshadowed by your forwardness. You relax on the beach chair beside his, you lean over to touch his arm. You stare at his bare chest with nothing but lust in your eyes and he stared back at you with the same want in his.
Somehow, you ended up sitting on his lap as he bucked into you. His cock moving in and out of your pussy as he grabbed you by the hips and held you down.
You tried to muffle your moans with your hand, hoping that no one would come to the little corner of the beach where you where getting fucked. Adler on the other hand didnt seem to care, he moaned loudly, his grunts and whimpers clear to you even as you felt blood rushing to your ears.
"Thats it, baby. There you go." You choke back a scream as he pulls you closer to his body, his arms now wrapped around you as your flushed against his chest.
You felt how the hair on his chest rubbed against your face, how his body tensed under you as you clenched around him and begged him in quiet whispers to fuck you harder.
"Please.... Russell, please. I need it." You begged and hoped that hed comply. Adler all but fucked your brains out as he picked you up and layed you on the beach chair.
He grabbed onto your legs, forcing them over his shoulder, and picked up pace.
His balls slapped against your rear, his cum mixed with your own and dripped out of you, you were stretched and it felt like he stretched you even more as he continued to move.
"Russell, please-" You chocked on your own words as he slammed his mouth against yours. His mouth was hungry, kissing you and biting your lips like he needed to consume you.
You moaned into his mouth, only egging him on even more. By the time he managed to cum, you were fully bred and leaking cum. He wouldnt pull out though, instead, he moved you again, this time on your side as he held you. He rested his chest agaisnt your back and kissed your neck and shoulder as he praised you, he even thanked you for letting him share this with you.
It took you by surprise how tender he was, the odd kindness you werent expecting from a man who looked so domanering. You leaned against him, his cock slowly growing soft inside of you, and sighed.
"That was fun." You commented, smiling to yourself as you felt Adler move.
"It was" Adler responded sleepely. He sounded like he was ready to drift to sleep, like this had taken all the energy out of him.
"We should do it again." You suggested.
"I'd love to, but im not as young as i used to be. So give me a few minutes."
"More like a few hours." You murmured.
"Hey!" He jokingly slapped your leg, before moving his hand to rest on top of your stomach. He caressed it and kissed your neck one more time before falling asleep.
You rested, but not before grabbing one of the discarded beach towels from the sandy floor and placing it on top of you both, covering both of your lower halfs. The beach was quite, barely any people as the sun began to set, but it still didnt stop you from not wanting to exposed out in the open.
You liked sleeping with Adler, he was a gentleman when he wanted to be, but you knew it would come to an end. You had to go home, and he was far older than what you would usually date, it wouldnt work. Thats what you told yourself despite you rumber being in his phone book.
What you didnt know was that Adler was already planning on how to ask you to stay a while longer. He liked you, you were prettier than all the other women he's met post retirement, and you knew how to handle him. He had a shiny bracelet back at home with your name on it, he just needed to get you to agree to stay an extra week.
Nothing helped him, no matter how much he prayed, no matter how many baths and punishments he underwent, nothing helped him overcome his sin.
He lusted over you, continued to touch himself with fever at the thought of you.
He only grew worse with time as he began to steal you away. Asking you to be with him as he prayed, having you clean the space in inhabited. He would watch as you delicately light candles and get rid of dust, storing away the memory for later.
He continued to play with himself, his hand wrapped around his cock as he fantasized that it was your body on his instead of his hand. You would use your body to satisfy him, moan his name so sweetly, you'd pray while he thrusted into you. You'd gasp as he fucked into you, made sure to grab onto him, and beg for mercy.
Youd ask him to cum inside, fill you up with his seed, make you pure once again with his holiness. Youd cum on his cock, make a mess of yourself on his lap as he came inside. He'd grip your hips, bruising them.
He'd watch as his seed dripped out of you, how it would pool in between your legs and the sheets below. He'd coo at you, praise you, the only thing he could afford to give without guilt after an administration of pure devotion you showed him.
He was lost in thought, so lost in his fantasy that he didn't notice the wide pupils you possessed and how your eyes seemed to find his cock. You could smell the precum that stained his undergarments; it was stronger in scent compared to a baseline, something more sour than salty.
He didn't notice the way you scanned his body, taking note of how sweaty he had become and how heavy he started to breathe. It didn't matter, though; your sinful thoughts were only for you, not for your lord to know.
"Are you feeling well, my lord?" You asked. It seemed to snap him out of his trans.
"I'm well. Continue your work, serf." He ordered, but there was no malice nor poison behind his words.
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