It was becoming a disappointing pattern; you and Henry made plans, he never showed up and tried to make it up to you. But you never forgot the many times he had stood you up. Not showing up to your house for a movie was nothing compared to being stood up at a restaurant where there were other couples gazing lovingly into each others eyes.
You tried calling your boyfriend but he didn't answer. After waiting for over an hour, you left the restaurant and headed home, sneaking inside to avoid questions from your parents about your date.
Henry was on his way back from a mission, crammed into a helicopter with Ray, Charlotte and Schwoz as they returned to the Man Cave. He sighed when he reached your voicemail that was changed.
"Sorry, I can't answer your call. I'm doing literally anything else, Henry Hart." Your voice cut off after the beep and Henry sighed, knowing your snarky tone was aimed at him.
Charlotte's eyebrows rose at your tone, and sent the blond a concerned glance when his features scrunched and he rubbed his forehead.
"She sounds mad."
"Thank you, Schwoz." Henry replied sassily, and he sent you a string of messages, apologising and promising to make it up to you while trying not to think of how often he had done so lately.
An hour later, the messages went unanswered and the blond searched for small stones to throw at your window. You ignored it and he decided to call you repeatedly until you answered.
You blocked his calls, sending them to voicemail and after the fifth time, his phone pinged with a new text message. "Go away." He sighed as he looked at the window. "Not until you talk to me!"
The window opened and you rested your elbows on the ledge. "Go away. There I talked."
"If you won't come down, then I'll just have to climb up."
Your eyebrows rose when he used the wooden lattice panel of the side of the house that your mother used to hold up her roses to climb up. "What are you doing? Get down!"
"Not until you talk to me." He grunted as he climbed higher, shaking his hand when a thorn pricked his skin.
"You'll hurt yourself, you idiot!"
You surged forward to grasp his hand and held the blond as he climbed through the window, sending you both tumbling to the floor. Henry grinned as he sat with his back against the wall.
"See? Easy."
You shook your head, "What do you want, Henry?" You sighed as you stood up, putting distance between you as you crossed your arms. "First, you don't turn up and now you climb through my window."
"I'm sorry I didn't make it." He rose to his feet, "I really wanted to be there."
"You've been absent a lot lately. It's depressingly predictable." You sighed, preparing for the predictable answer, "Where were you?"
"Something came up at work."
You raised an eyebrow, "It's a junk store."
"It's surprisingly time consuming."
You frowned as you lowered your arms, "Clearly."
Henry stepped forward and placed his hands on your arms, thumbs brushing back and forth. "I really am sorry. The last thing I want to do is hurt you." You tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. "And I hate that I have."
You placed a hand on his chest, "Next time, let the junk gather dust?"
Henry knew he couldn't promise not to break another date, but he could try harder and he believed there had to be a way that he and Ray could fight crime quicker so that he didn't have to leave you stranded again.
"Deal." He smiled as you wrapped your arms around his waist and he pressed his lips to your forehead as he wrapped his arms around you. "I really am sorry."
"I know." You murmured against his shirt.
But Henry knew from your tone that one day his apologises wouldn't be enough and he had to decided whether to tell you his secret, or risk you breaking up with him. And he knew that time was approaching far too quickly.
could we get chris overstimulating preachers daughter or is that too freaked up đđ
it's NEVER too freaked out around here. i combined this request with a fic i was already halfway through writing but i promise the overstimulation is in there!!!
ౚৠdealer!chris getting really high and needy :(
â ïž intoxication, oral fixation, overstimulation (omg that rhymes!)
after a busy day of work for both you and chris, you had decided to stay home and unwind for the night. chris had just stubbed out the joint he was smoking, and you were curled up next to him, completely absorbed in your book.
he was laying with his hands behind his head, eyes half closed, in a state of pure bliss. he felt like his brain was melting, but there was just something⊠off. he frowned and ran his teeth over his tongue, reached over and fumbled around with the assortment of items on your bedside table, but he couldnât find what he was looking for, what he needed.Â
you usually kept one or two lollipops scattered amongst the mess, originally for yourself, but since chris started smoking weed again, they had become the thing he craved every time. now heâd just have to resort to something else.
âangel,â he muttered, turning over to face you.
you let out a noncommittal âmmâ without glancing up from your book.
âneed you⊠please?â his voice came out as a low whine as he leaned over to tuck his face in your neck.
âmâtired, chris⊠thought we said it was gonna be a chill night.â
you could feel him smile against your neck as he mumbled, âi'm so chill right now.â he started kissing at the skin, eventually leaving small nips and bites on the smooth length of your neck. not enough to hurt or leave a mark, just enough for you to feel the gentle scrape of his teeth on you.
you frowned slightly, gripping your book a little tighter. âchris, i really need to know what happens next. can't put it down nowâŠâ
âthen don't put it down.â chris shifted to lay on top of you, shoving his head between your arms so that your book was resting lightly atop his messy hair.
you glanced down to meet his sleepy, reddened eyes as he smiled up at you. you had to appreciate the boyâs determination to be close to you.
âkeep reading, angel. just gonna lay here.â he closed his eyes and rested his head on your chest. you could feel his warm breath on your skin, slowing down as the two of you relaxed.Â
after a while, chris lifted his head and gently pulled the top of your nightgown down to free your breasts, shifting slightly so that he could take one of your nipples between his lips. he sighed as soon as his mouth made contact with your soft skin, and you could feel his lashes brushing against your chest as his eyes slid shut again. you said nothing, just gently scratched his hair and kept reading.
chris kept suckling at you, reaching up with his hand to lightly squeeze at your other breast. he was in heaven right now, so close to you, surrounded by your warmth. he opened his mouth a little wider, desperate to take as much of you in as he could.
you kept reading, although it was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on the words in front of you while the smacking sounds of chris's greedy mouth filled the room.
minutes passed before he pulled away from you with a heavy sigh, resting his head on your chest as he took a second to catch his breath. you were about to ask him if he was satisfied yet, but before you could open your mouth, he was sliding determinedly down your body until he was completely hidden under the blanket.
you could feel his large hands wrap around your waist, gentle but firm, and the weight of his head as he rested it against your thigh.Â
âshitâŠâ his voice came out a low rumble, his nose prodding the plush skin of your thigh. you could feel his warm breath fan across your skin as he let out a long, contented exhale. one of his hands slid down from your waist to your hip, his fingers curling around the lace waistband of your underwear.Â
âcan i? please, baby?â his voice was muffled under the blanket, but you knew exactly what he was asking for.
âmm, okay. only cause you want it.â you mumbled, grateful that chris couldnât see the smile on your lips.
chris was whining softly before your panties were even halfway down your thighs. he tugged them down your legs and reached a hand out from under the blanket to toss them onto the floor, clearly quite confident that you wouldnât be needing them again tonight.
he nudged his nose through your folds, moaning softly at the sweet scent of you. the weed had all of his senses heightened, resulting in a dizzying desire to smell you, touch you, taste you. he flattened his tongue against you, licking a long, slow stripe up your dripping slit. he did that a few times, purposely avoiding your clit, which had your hips twitching below his hands.
âchrisâŠâ you sighed softly, sick of his teasing.
he ignored you, a quiet grunt slipping out of him as he pressed your squirming hips down onto the mattress to hold you still. clearly, he was working on his own schedule.
when he eventually did reach your clit, he let out a raw moan as his lips wrapped around the soft bud. his grip tightened on your hips, and you were sure youâd have bruises tomorrow where his thumbs were pressing into you.Â
chris had let go of all his inhibitions, no longer concerned with suppressing his needy whines or the drool that escaped his mouth, dripping down your folds and mingling with the wetness already pooling there.
he released his hold on your hips, only to grip the bottom of your thighs and push them up around his head. you figured he wanted you to squeeze your legs around him, and when you did, he let out a muffled moan, almost resembling a sob.
he lifted one hand, rooting around blindly until he was able to interlock his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand tightly. the sounds that filled the room were undeniably filthy now, a mixture of chrisâs greedy tongue slurping at your folds, and the grunts and whimpers that escaped him.
your orgasm caught you by surprise, a sudden release that had your body melting into the mattress and your fingers threading through his hair.Â
but chris still wasnât satisfied. his tongue continued working at your tired clit, creating a sensation that sent a shiver down your spine.
âchris, sâtoo muchâŠâ
he only doubled his efforts and held your thighs closed around his head, mumbling mostly to himself, âjust a little more, baby⊠youâre a big girl, you can handle itâŠâ
you sigh and tug at his hair to try and get his attention away from your pussy. âbut youâve been down there for agesâŠâ
chris let out an exaggerated whine of disappointment, lifting his head slightly to meet your eye. âplease, baby, wanna stay down here⊠i need youâŠâ
you had never seen him like this before, so desperate. his reddened eyes were making the blue of his irises even more striking, and you were almost certain you could see a sheen of unshed tears in the roomâs dim light. god, you couldnât say no to him when he was like this.
âokay, fine. but you have to be gentle.â
âyes, maâam.â chris smiled as he tilted his head down again, sucking at you more gently this time. it was as if he was no longer thinking of it as something sexual, but simply a means of relieving himself while he was in this state, or something he relied on for his sanity.
you couldnât decide if you regretted allowing him to continue or not, because the new, slow pace at which his mouth was working, although nice, wasnât quite enough to bring forth the second orgasm you were starting to crave.
âchris⊠moreâŠâ
chris hummed around your clit before shaking his head. ânah, itâs good like this.â
you huffed in surprise and reached down to tug at his hair, forcing him to lift his head. his messy lips were curled upwards in a knowing, defiant smile.
âwhatâs the problem, baby? you asked me to be gentle.â
âitâs not enoughâŠâ you whined.
âthatâs funny, cause you were sayinâ it was too much a second ago.â
âchris!â he knew exactly what he was doing, you could tell by the smug look on his face. âjust make me cum again, and then you can go as annoyingly slow as you like.â
âfuck,â chris promptly got back to work, and you could see the blanket dipping where he was pressing his hips into the mattress. âshould boss me around more, baby. looks good on ya.â
you were grateful he couldnât see you blushing. as comfortable and safe as you had grown to feel around him, it still made you flustered to take charge, even in small ways like this.
it didnât take much for chris to pull a second orgasm from you, but it hit you even more forcefully than the first. you turned your face to hide in the pillow as your release soaked chrisâs lips and chin. he was careful not to waste a drop of it, licking dutifully until you were all clean.
he kept it fairly tame after that, nursing your clit gently at a pace that was more relaxing than anything. you couldnât quite remember how long he kept at it, but when you woke up, the sun was streaming through the blinds and chris was fast asleep with his head on your thigh, mouth wide open.
request: the ridiculous ways that gator shows affection.
cherry on top: this is separate from my maggie mae tillman series! just something cute and fun :) hope you like it
first of all, the pet names.
god, the pet names.
there's the basic ones, like honey and baby and sweetheart.
occasionally there's a sugar or angel or sweetness or doll or pretty girl.
then there's the just outright ridiculous ones. the ones that he knows you hate and it's the only reason he uses them.
sugarplum. lovebug. peach. trouble.
lovebug isn't actually all that bad, it's just that he uses it to tease you when you're tired and exceptionally clingy.
he does this thing where he pretends he isn't looking at you even thjough he's very obviously staring.
you'll glance over, he'll whip his head away, then two seconds later he's right back to staring.
"what? can't a man look at his girl?"
he will brag about you to literally anyone and everyone within earshot. but in a dumb way.
some guys will say their girlfriend is so amazing.
gator will say "she parallel parked first try the other day. didn't even hit the curb" with a proud little smirk.
he really enjoys picking you up randomly with zero warning.
you're mid conversation and suddenly you're off the ground.
sometimes it's bridal style, sometimes you're tossed over his shoulder like a pack of potatoes.
he loooooooooves hooking a finger through your belt loop to guide you places.
or a hand in your back pocket.
he's a big fan of that one.
one hundred percent tries to impress you with things that aren't that impressive.
"watch this" and he opens a bottle with his teeth.
lifting something heavy then looking at you the entire time to make sure you're watching.
fixing things around your house, even things that don't necessarily need fixing.
dining chair? suddenly it's too wobbly.
your bedroom door? "this don't close right, lemme get my tools"
he just wants to feel useful.
gator will dramatically overreact if you're just slightly hurt.
you'll have a paper cut and it might as well be a state wide emergency.
you tapped a hot pan once and mumbled "ouch"
you could hear him down the hall practically tripping over himself and bumping into a wall just to get to you.
however, gator also enjoys wrestling you.
not aggressively, obviously, just playful and annoying and all over the living room floor like a proper wwe match.
sometimes he'll randomly get a bit soft out of nowhere, then immediately ruin it.
he'll brush your hair back, stare at you with his soft brown eyes, it'll be a romantic silence for a moment, then here he comes with "you got somethin' on your face"
deep down, gator is a gentleman, of course.
like he'll get out and actually knock on your door when he's picking you up, so that he can walk you to his truck and open your door for you.
but before he gets out to come knock on your door, he always makes a point of revving his truck in your driveway to let you know he's arrived.
which prompts you to peek through the curtain with a brow raised and an expression that looks like you're mentally scolding him.
he just grins.
he'll often show up unannounced but act like it's nothing.
"was in the area" and he drove 20 minutes.
and you know what, he's absolutely a guy who will hear you mention liking something once then buy it for you in bulk.
"you said you liked those strawberry candies" "gator, this is a three pound bag" "well...yeah. didn't want you runnin' out"
he stands just a bit closer when other guys are around.
if one guy makes you laugh a little harder than usual, he'll ask you extremely specific questions later on.
"you know that guy?" "what guy?" "mr wannabe comedian"
and gator always sleeps better when you're there, but very rarely does he admit it.
you stay over one time and suddenly every night he's like "so...you comin' by tonight or...?"
like... you're honestly not properly together even, it's definitely just a fwb situation and the friends part is tenuous. you're really just each other's booty call. your text thread is just you guys taking turns saying "you up?" and gator responding with the thumbs up emoji or you responding with a "yeah, come over"
so when he texts "you up?" at 1:47AM a short while after you've gotten home from your shift at the barâwhere you saw him flirting with endless pairs of tits earlier in the nightâyou just sigh heavily and reply "yeah, come over" like you always do.
because yes, you're up, and yes, you're hoping that maybe him fucking you within an inch of your life will make you feel better. because it wasn't that seeing him groping other girl's asses in their short skirts or skintight jeans upset you. no, it was seeing that combined with every other asshole in the place pawing at you when you went to clear empties off tables, when the one guy you actually kind of wanted the attention from pretended like you didn't exist.
which was the norm. you were at work, and he was on the prowl, and you'd both mutually agreed that when you were wearing your apron, you and your body were off limits.
and it wasn't even that you liked gator. it's justâgod, you were tired of being slapped on the ass or being called baby every time you walked past a table that stunk of axe body spray and horses.
there's a knock on your door about 3 minutes after you text him, which leads you to believe that he was already outside waiting for your response. and for the first time since this whole situation started, you don't want to let him in.
but you do. you climb out of bed and pick the wedgie you have out of your butt and then shuffle to your front door. you're ready for bedânot that that's ever stopped you beforeâbut when you open the door, your skin shiny from the mask you did after your shower, your shoulders a little slumped, the scowl affixed to your mouth... gator hesitates when he sees you.
"you look like shit," he says, and you just scoff.
"you comin' in or what?" you reply, turning and leaving the door open, leaving him standing on your front step. that's your normal dynamic: the attitude, the playful disrespect, but tonight you can tell it's going to grate on you.
and instead of telling him, giving him any kind of warning, you walk down the hall to your bedroom, and after a moment you hear your front door latch closed and the deadbolt click, gator's jacket unzip, and his heavy footsteps trailing yours.
you're sitting on the edge of your bed when he turns the corner into your room, and he stands there for a moment. it's not that you're ever thrilled to see him, but tonight you seem especially unenthused.
"fuck's yer problem?" he asks, and you sigh, heavily.
"no problem. you come over here to ask me stupid questions?"
and there's the bite he's used to from you, so he just enters your bedroom, kicks his boots off so haphazardly they scuff the wall beside your closet, and crosses to you, standing over you where you sit.
"me first?" he asks, and you just shrug, because your shitty fucking overwhelming night might as well end with you choking on gator's cock as the gateway to you getting the dicking you want and deserve and, honestly, need after the shitshow that was the closing shift at the bar.
to his credit, gator does seem to realize that something's off, but he's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he just reaches for his belt buckle and undoes it, the metal tinkling in the quiet dark of your room as you just sit there in front of him, adjusting the strap of your tank top, biding time until he's got his camo pants around his thighs and the elastic of his boxers beneath his balls, propping them up as he takes hold of his cock in one hand, holding it out for you.
you sighâgator frowns above you, though you don't seeâand lean in to part your lips and take the head into your mouth. gator's free hand moves to the crown of your head, guiding you with none-too-gentle movements as he moves your head down onto his length for you, lips sliding over the warm, soft skin of his prick. you lave your tongue against the underside of him, sucking him off and you squeeze your eyes shut, because you can do this by muscle memory by now.
it's about the point when his tip hits the back of your throat that you choke on him, just a little, and gag, which doesn't usually happen. and then gator really starts in with the shit talking that you usually give to each other.
"fuck's wrong with ya t'night?" he asks. "forget how t'suck a dick?"
you just hum around him, ignoring the question and wrapping your hand around the part of him that isn't currently between your lips.
"'sall yer fuckin' good for 'nd ya can't even do it right," he says.
and normally, you'd pull off and look him right in the face and tell him if he didn't like what you were doing he could suck his own dick, but this time, the opposite of that happens. which is you pausing in your movements, your hand resting loosely around the base of his cock, as your breath hitches, catching in your throat, and you make the strangest noise either of you has ever heard: a sob around a penis.
you pull off of him at the same moment he lifts his hand from your head, and he actually steps back as you take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm the fuck down because you're not about to cry in front of gator fucking tillman except actually you are, and he's looking down at you with a mixture of disgust and concern on his face.
"uh..." gator starts to say, because you're pressing the back of your wrist against your nose, clamping your jaw shut, trying to keep your breaths even as your chest kicks and you shudder as you exhale. "you good?"
"uh huh," you barely manage to say. "just need a sec, sorry." and you're up like a rocket, pushing past gator with his dick out and unsucked in your bedroom, slamming the bathroom door behind you as you stand there in the dark, the only light the warm yellow of the nightlight next to the sink. you hate that you're acting like this, but you hate even more that gator saw what little sliver of it that he did. you half-sob again and turn the tap so hard that you're pretty sure you almost dislodge the knob and then just sink down to kneel in front of the sink, your forehead against the vanity as you try to rein in the tears that won't stop now that you're alone.
you manage to keep it down, actually, but there was just something so particularly tender in you tonight that what he said wormed its way inside you and genuinely hurt, even though he's said much worse to you in the past. you were being stupidâthis was just a hook up, and you had no business being so emotionally invested in a hook upâbut part of you had also hoped that gator might know you well enough by now to dial it back when he sensed something was off.
the other part of you knew how presumptuous that was.
so you just turned yourself to sit on the tile floor with your back against the undersink cabinet, the heels of your hands on your cheeks, wiping away the wetness there. maybe when you opened the bathroom door, gator would be gone and you could go to bed and pretend the whole damn thing was just a dream.
except just as the thought crossed your mind, just as you heaved a sigh and started to push yourself up to your feet, a knock came on the bathroom door and you felt yourself sink back into the pool of embarrassment that you'd cried for yourself.
"you good?" gator asked again, and you considered your options.
you could:
a) answer him, tell him why you were upset, and from that point on your only interactions would be you serving him beer at the bar
b) brush off his concern and finish sucking his cock
option b sounded just perfect.
"i'm fine," you said, and as you rose to your feet the bathroom door opened. you turned to face gator, just his silhouette really visible, but you could tell that he'd (thank god) put his cock away.
"don't sound fine," he commented.
you scoffed. "i don't have you over here to play therapist."
"well, i don't especially love a girl startin' t'cry when my dick's in her mouth, so. either spill or i'm leavin'."
"bye, then," you said, pushing past him, and once you were back in your room, you wiped your eyes again, ridding them of any residual tears. you turned your bed down, intending to climb back in after you locked the door behind gator, but you only heard him pad into the room behind you.
"was it 'cause'a me?" he asked.
"was what 'cause of you?" you countered.
"whyever you were cryin'," he said awkwardly, like he desperately wanted to leave, but the bigger part of his ego needed to know that whatever had upset you was an outside force at work and not him.
"it had nothing to do with you," you said. outright, you thought.
"well, then tell me," gator said, and you spun around to look at him. he was still in his camos, his stupid quarter-zip shirt, hair slicked back; he even had his goddamn sunglasses still wrapped around the back of his head even though it was the middle of the fucking night. you hated how much you wanted him around sometimes.
"it's nothin'. i already told you."
gator stood his ground, shoving his hands into his pockets. "someone at the bar do somethin' t'ya?"
"what?" you asked. "no." it as multiple someones, practically two-thirds of the clientele.
"just gimme a name. he'll never bother ya again."
"right now it's gator tillman," you snapped.
he huffed an unamused laugh. "y'know," he said. "i seen you starin' over at me all night."
you looked up at him, meeting his eyes, holding his gaze, no matter how much you wanted to look away. "when?"
"shoot, any fuckin' time you walked out from behind that bar. y'think i didn't notice the way you'd fuckin' look every time some guy grabbed yer ass? yeah, i saw."
you felt your eyes moisten again, because he'd noticed and that, for some reason, made all of it worse.
"think i'd take kindly t'seein' a buncha fuckin' animals pawin' all over ya?"
"do you think i take kindly to seeing you chat up every fuckin' woman that walks in?"
gator clamps his mouth shut, taking you in. what you just said, the way your hands are clenched into fists at your side, the way your lower lip is wibbling again. then, he speaks.
"and whose fuckin' place do i end up at every goddamn time?"
that sobers you, shuts you up. because he's rightâhe's here, standing right in front of you.
"iâ" you start, but the words break in your mouth, a fresh wave of tears filling your eyes. you blink them away. "fuck you."
"i mean, if ya wantâ"
"no, fuck you, gator. you can't just act like you give a shit now."
"who said i don't?"
"you did!" you half-shout at him, forgetting that it's after 2AM and your upstairs neighbor's bedroom is right above yours. "we both made it real fuckin' clear that this was just sex."
"yeah. sure did. and then you started cryin' on my dick."
"because i had a bad night. and you weren't exactly nice."
"since when am i nice?"
"fuck off with that," you say. "just go, ok? i didn't even want you to come over anyway."
gator steps closer to you. says nothing.
"i said go," you demand now, even as he takes another step, closing the distance. "go. go." he doesn't hug you, because that's something gator wouldn't do, but he does take hold of your arm and steer you toward your bed, easing you down onto it.
"let's see if i can turn this shit around," gator says, and before you can tell him to leave again, he curls his hands into the waistband of your sweats and pulls them down just an inch or two over your hips. he pauses, glancing up at you, waiting for you to tell him to stop.
you just nod for him to continue. "keep goin'."
and he does, ridding you of your bottoms and then settling down between your legs, pushing your thighs up and over his shoulders as he leans in to lick a long, languid stripe up through your center, tongue flicking against your clit. you shudder a little, for a different reason this time, and he lays into you, tongue curling into your slit as he fucks you with it, the wet sounds from between your legs reaching your ears and actually turning you on a little. maybe whatever you and gator have isn't perfectâmaybe it isn't anything at allâbut he always does make you feel better, at least a little. maybe that's all that really matters.
you he wraps his arms around your thighs as he buries his face in your cunt, sucking at your folds and your clit, his fingertips pressing divots into your legs, and you come as he closes his lips around your clit, tongue massaging it as he sucks softly. he pulls off of you, face soaked with your fluids, and he rests his wet chin on your thigh.
"so, what, ya gonna cry s'more, or what?"
"fuck you," you say again.
"i mean, shit, woman. i'm tryin' here."
you laugh weakly, but as he pushes himself upright, you close your legs.
"i don't... i don't know."
gator picks up your sweats and uses them to clean off his face. "i mean, if ya ain't up fer it i c'n take care of myself."
"i just had a bad night, gator," you say.
"'nd i made it worse," he says. "'course, you ain't never choked on my dick before so i think you can understand where i was comin' from."
"you are insufferable."
"yeah."
"this ain't gonna happen again," you say.
he frowns. "what, this?" he gestures between the two of you as you pull the hem of your tank top down, attempting to cover your modesty and failing.
"no," you say, crossing your legs one over the other, and then pulling your knees up to your chest, keeping your ankles crossed to block his view. "i mean, you know. the crying part."
gator chuckles. "that ain't no thing."
"you didn't sign up for it," you say.
"look," gator says. "i ain't gonna pretend i like this shit, ain't gonna pretend like i know what ta say when a broad starts cryin'. ain't gonna pretend like i like ya."
"wow, cool." you huff. "maybe this"âyou gesture between yourselves like he did moments agoâ"really isn't gonna happen again."
"that ain't what i meant. just 'cause i don't like ya don't mean i don't like ya."
you narrow your eyes. "explain."
"i ain't yer fuckin' boyfriend. 'nd i don't think ya want me t'be. 'nd that suits me just fine." he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "but i like ya well enough. only chick around who ain't on my ass for a promise or commitment or a fuckin' ringâswear t'god some of these townie bitches get a few inches in 'em and lose their fuckin' minds." you snicker. "look, what i'm sayin' isâi ain't catchin' feelings for my favorite bartender. but that don't mean i wanna see ya cry neither. capisce?"
you laugh, because objectively gator confessing to you that you're friends is funny. also, hearing him say capisce is kind of the highlight of your week.
"yeah, ok. capisce."
gator gives you a smirk, which is the closest you think you've ever seen him come to smiling. until you uncross your legs and reach out for him, pulling him closer, and then he's fumbling between your bodies as he undoes his pants again, pulling out his half-hard cock and stroking it as you spread your legs wide to fit him between them as he kneels over you, and once he's hard enough he pushes you back against your pillows, lining his cock up with your cunt, and enters you in one swift motion; you take him to the hilt with no resistance, your walls sucking him in as he starts moving, and even though it doesn't feel different it feels like everything has changed.
you flex your hips up into his, the slap of skin on skin audible, and you feel his lips on the underside of your jaw. it's the closest his mouth has ever been to yoursâkissing is not something you do, not something you've ever wanted from him, and you always got the feeling it wasn't on his radar in the slightestâand then you tip your chin down as he rises up, his hips stilling flush against yours, his cock deep inside you, and your lips meet for the first time.
sucking his lower lip into your mouth, he kisses your upper lip as best he can, and your tongues meet and he tastes like tobacco and beer and whatever flavor of vape he's using this week, something stupid and cloyingly sweet, but you drink him in, because you squeeze down on his cock and he whimpers into your mouth and you love that. you love it because you bet you're the only one he ever lets hear him like this, see him so vulnerable.
the thought has you snaking your arm down between your bodies, reaching for your clit, and you feel his stomach tense up against your arm as you start rubbing yourself with two fingertips, small little circles over your swollen bead.
he starts moving in you again, fucking you harder, faster, pushing you back up against the headboard even as he reaches one hand out over your head to grip at the top, white-knuckling it as he pounds into you, hips pistoning against yours, his cock so hard and hot and thick within you that you moan his name and before you even finish the second syllable, he's licking your tongue, swallowing his own name from your lips as he reaches down with his free arm. he hooks his hand beneath your knee, pulling your leg up to open you further, wider, for him, and you sob again but in a much, much better way this time.
one of his knees comes up beside you, changing the angle at which he's driving into you, letting him fuck you faster and deeper, your fingers slipping over your clit, so fucking wet that the slide is so easy, you almost miss how close you are until he drags against your walls so fucking perfectly that your whole body twitches beneath him.
"felt that," gator mumbles, his lips on your cheek. "gonna come on this cock?"
"uh huh," you manage, nodding.
"gonna come fer me, huh?" he asks. "remember how ta get me off, at least?"
you laugh, not because it's funny, but because of course he would start that shit again.
"ain't like it's hard," you shoot back.
"no?"
"fuck no."
"watch that mouth," gator says, covering it with his own and taking your lips in a kissâyou feel his hips stutter against yours.
"you gonna come for me?" you echo him. "gonna fill up this pussy, hm?" you're panting a little, but so is heâyou're both so close you can feel the warmth spreading through your limbs from where you're joined with him.
"fuck," gator grunts, nodding. "yeah, i'mâ"
"come for me," you coax him. "give it to me gator, g-giveâfuckâ"
"take it," he finishes for you, and you feel him fuck into you harder, one final motion before the sticky heat of his release enters you, his hips twitching against you as he comes, feeling each thick spurt inside you.
gator releases your leg, lowering his hand from your knee to move it between you as well, and he nudges your hand out of the way as he takes over touching youâand as soon as his hand is on you, the feeling of fingers that aren't your own circling your throbbing clit, you come, your orgasm overtaking you, body tight tight tight until you release all of the tension, pleasure coursing through you until you relax back against your bed and he pulls out of you.
he moves his hand from your headboard to your face, then drops it to your neck, rubbing his thumb over your throat before he rolls onto his back beside you.
"hope that helped, ya crybaby," he says, after a short while, the both of you waiting for your pulse to slow, for your breathing to calm.
steve coming home 2 u shaving && helping you rub one out !!!
the front door creaks open, followed by the familiar jingle of keys and a heavy sigh. âbabe? you home? today was exhausting-some asshole wanted me to explain why we donât have some fuckinâ tape yet.. like, câmon! iâm just the guy behind the counter, manâŠâ
steveâs voice trails off as he steps into the steamy bathroom doorway, still in his family video vest, name tag crooked. his eyes land on you in the tub: one leg hooked over the edge, razor moving carefully over your soapy skin, the warm water making everything glisten.
he freezes. mouth drops open. then comes the whine and that dramatic, slightly nasal pout he knows makes you giggle. to be honest, steve didnât care if you were shaved or not, pussy was pussy. he sure did love helping you shave though after you asked him to aid you once, pits, legs, pussy, whatever. heâs down.
âoh, come onâŠâ he drags it out, shoulders slumping, âwhy didnât you tell me? i couldâve helped! iâm home now and youâre just⊠doing it without me? thatâs cold, baby. real cold-!â
you canât help giggling, lowering the razor a bit as bubbles slide down your thigh. âsteve, itâs literally just shaving. i didnât wanna bother you at work-â
âbother me?â heâs already toeing off his shoes, tossing the vest onto the floor in a heap. âthis is, like, prime boyfriend territory. iâm an expert. iâve got steady handsâ he kneels beside the tub with a charming grin fighting through the fake offense. âcâmon, hand it over. let me do it right.â
he gently takes the razor from you, his big hands warm and careful as he parts your legs a little more, eyes focused but flicking up to your face every few seconds.
âhold still, okay? donât wanna nick anything important,â he mutters as he glides the razor with surprising patience, rinsing it in the water between strokes. but steve being steve, he canât stay purely practical for long. his thumb âaccidentallyâ brushes along your inner thigh, then higher, teasing the sensitive skin right beside where heâs shaving.
you squirm and laugh again. âsteve-!â
âwhat? iâm helping!â he protests, but thereâs a grin tugging at his lips. âsee? waaay better when iâm doing it. youâre all smooth already⊠damn baby.â he sets the razor aside on the tub edge, but his hand doesnât leave. instead, two fingers slide through your folds, slick from the bath and your growing arousal. âhmm youâre wet. this turning you on or is it just the water?â
his touch turns purposeful, thumb circling your clit in slow, firm rubs while his fingers tease at your entrance, curling just enough to make your legs twitch. he watches your face the whole time, hair falling into his eyes a little as he leans closer.
âyeah? that feel good? let me take care of you. wouldâve ditched the shift in a heartbeat for this.â
he keeps his rhythm steady, palm grinding gently against you as his digits pump slowly, water sloshing around your hips with every movement. the giggles fade into soft moans. he murmurs little praises between kisses pressed to your knee.
âthatâs it, sweetheart⊠just like that. come on, let me feel you. yâlook so pretty like this.â
he doesnât stop until your thighs are trembling and youâre gripping the edge of the tub. steve rides it out with you, slowing his fingers but not pulling away until youâre boneless and smiling.
after, he rests his chin on the tub rim, water droplets on his forearms. ânext time tell me babe canât have you doing this solo again, im serious-!â he chuckled while reaching for a towel.
the door slammed so hard one of the picture frames on the wall rattled. gator didnât even kick off his muddy boots. he stormed straight into the living room, eyes twitching, chest heaving under his deputy shirt like he was about to explode.
you were on the couch looking through your phone when he yanked it out of your hands and tossed it somewhere behind him. âgator-! you fuckinâ scared me what are-â
âdonât wanna hear it,â he gritted, already grabbing you by the thighs and flipping you onto your back. the couch cushions dipped hard as he climbed over you, shoving your legs apart with his knees. âwhole fuckinâ day they been ridinâ my ass. the guys, just everybody lookinâ at me like iâm a goddamn joke. iâm done. iâm so fuckinâ done.â
his hands were shaking with anger as he ripped your shorts and panties down in one rough tug, not even bothering to take them all the way off-they caught around one ankle. he shoved his own pants down just enough, cock springing out heavy and flushed, already leaking, âgator baby, slow downâ
âthought i told âya to be quiet, no?â he lined up, spitting to start and was quick to push himself in, bottoming out so hard your back arched off the couch and a loud, broken moan tore out of your throat.
âfuuuuck-oh my god-gat-â
âyeah? thatâs what i thought,â he snarled, hips already snapping forward in a punishing rhythm. the wet sound of him fucking into you filled the room. âtake it. take every inch like the greedy lilâ bitch yâareâ
you tried to form words but he was pounding you so deep and fast your brain went all fuzzy. all that came out was a high, desperate whine.
âg-gator-ahh-fuck, sât-too much-!â
âtoo much?â he laughed, leaning down so his face was inches from yours. his hat had fallen off somewhere and his hair was sticking to his sweaty forehead. âyouâre drippinâ all over me, mama. pussyâs suckinâ me in like it missed this cock. tell me how much you love when i come home and fuck you stupidâ
your eyes were rolling back, mouth open in a constant stream of broken moans and half-words.
âhah-ahh-love it fuckk! love your cock-g-gator pleaseâ
âplease what?â he grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him while he drilled into you harder, the couch creaking dangerously. âuse your words, dumb girl. or did i already fuck âem outta your pretty head?â
you couldnât even answer properly-just a loud, shaky moan as he hit that spot over and over, making your legs shake uncontrollably.
âgonna-gonna cum-mmhh-gator mâgonn-â
ânot yet youâre not.â he slowed just enough to make it torture, grinding deep instead of thrusting, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing messy circles. âyouâre gonna take it until i say so. tell me how good it feels. tell me whose pussy this is.â
âyours-yours-fuck-your pussy-ahh gator! i canât-too deep-!â
âyeah you can. look at you, already droolinâ and babblinâ like a whore.â his breath hot against your ear as he started pounding again, faster, meaner. âbeen thinkinâ about this tight cunt all day while they treated me like shit. gonna fill you up so full youâll still feel me tomorrow when youâre sittinâ there actinâ all innocent.â
your body betrayed you without warning-hard, blinding. your whole body seized up, a loud, wrecked cry ripping out of you as you clenched violently around him.
âgator-! fuck-cumming-oh my god oh my-mâcumming-pleasepleaseplease-!â
âthatâs it, baby, cum all ovaâmy cock. good fuckinâ girl.â he didnât stop, didnât even slow down, just fucked you straight through it while you twitched and sobbed beneath him. âkeep moaninâ my name. louder. let the whole fuckinâ neighborhood know whoâs wreckinâ this pussy.â
you were past words now-just desperate, high-pitched moans and whimpers, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from how intense it was.
âgatorr-! gatorrr g-gator too much-canât-please-ohhhh yesyesyesâ
âyâwant me to keep fuckinâ yâstupid? hm? thasâ what you want?â his thrusts were getting erratic, hips stuttering as he chased his own release. âgonna cum deep, baby. gonna pump yâso full. you want that? tell me you want it.â
âwant it-want your cum-please pleaseee? fill me up gator-!â
guttural groan escaped his lips, hips grinding as he came hard, pulsing deep inside you. âfuuuck-my fuckinâ pretty girl hahh-shitt f-fillinâ this tight pussy upâ
for a long moment the only sounds were both of you panting, his forehead pressed to yours, sweat dripping between you.
âdidnât mean to be such a dick âbout itâ
you gave a weak, wrecked laugh, voice hoarse. âyâcan be like that anytime gate, yâknow that.. just donât scare me like that, again my poor phone!!â. you gave a faux pout which quickly turned into a grin.
he huffed, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to your temple even while he was still buried inside you.
The mattress creaks under every slow, heavy roll of Gatorâs hips.
Youâre pressed face-down into the pillows, chest flat to the sheets, ass tilted just enough for him to sink in to the hilt on every thrust. Heâs got one forearm braced beside your head, the other hand gripping your waist to keep you right where he wants youâspread open, pinned, his. Even like this, fucking you deep enough to rearrange your insides, heâs gentle with it. Because youâre his girl. Always will be.
His cock is glistening when it drags out, thick shaft coated in your slick. Every time he pushes back in, your creamy pussy lips stretch around him and leave another pearly ring at the base of his cock. Gator canât stop staring at it. The way your wetness froths and smears across his skin, dripping down to soak the sheets beneath you.
He groans low in his chest, the sound vibrating against your back.
âOhâfuck, daddy,â you moan into the pillow, the word breaking on a gasp as he bottoms out again.
Your hands fist the sheets so tight your knuckles go white, but youâre reaching back at the same timeâfrantic, needy little movements. Fingers stretching, trying to find any part of him you can touch. His wrist. His forearm. The flexing muscle of his hip. You just need him.
Gator leans down, chest covering your back completely, and presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder. His stubble scrapes sweetly against your skin as he keeps that same devastating rhythmâdeep, grinding strokes that make you feel every inch.
âYeah?â he murmurs against your shoulder, voice rough but so fucking soft for you. âYa like that, mama? Like how deep Iâm gettinâ?â
You whimper, nodding desperately into the pillow as another creamy ring forms around the root of his cock. âYouâre so deepââ
âI know, baby. I can feel it.â He kisses the nape of your neck, then the sensitive spot just behind your ear. One big hand slides under your stomach, palm splayed wide like heâs trying to feel exactly where heâs bulging inside you. âRight here, huh? Thatâs my good girl. Takinâ every inch like you were made for it.â
Heâs still so gentle even while heâs fucking you into the mattressâslow rolls of his hips instead of brutal slams, constant little kisses along your shoulder and the back of your neck, murmuring praise every time your pussy clenches around him. But the depth. God, the depth. Every thrust nudges that spot so far inside you that your toes curl and your eyes roll back.
Your hand finally finds his where it grips your waist. You lace your fingers together tight, holding on while he rocks into you again and again, creamy slick sounds filling the room every time his balls press against your clit.
âGonna cum like this,â you whine, voice muffled by the pillow. âPleaseââ
âI got you, mama.â Gatorâs lips brush your ear, breath hot. âLet go for me. Want to feel you creaminâ all over my cock again. Then Iâm gonna fill you up till itâs leakinâ back out around me.â
That does it. Your pussy spasms hard, walls fluttering and squeezing as your orgasm crashes through you. You cry out, gripping his hand like a lifeline while fresh cream coats his cock and drips down his balls. Gator groans at the feeling, hips stuttering just once before he buries himself to the hilt and stays there.
âFuck, thatâs it, youâre so good for me.â He kisses your shoulder again, slow and tender, even as his cock pulses inside you. Thick ropes of cum flood your pussy, mixing with your own release until itâs leaking out around where youâre stretched tight around him. He doesnât pull out. Just rocks through the aftershocks, pushing every drop deeper while he keeps kissing your skinâshoulder, neck, the flushed shell of your ear.
When your breathing finally evens out, he eases his weight off your back but stays buried inside you, spooning you from behind with one arm wrapped around your waist. His hand strokes slow circles over your stomach like heâs soothing the ache he left there.
âYou okay?â he whispers, voice hoarse but gentle. Another kiss to the back of your neck. âDidnât hurt you, did I?â
You shake your head, still dazed, and press back against him. âNo⊠felt so good.â
Gator hums, satisfied, and nuzzles into your hair. The creamy mess between your thighs is cooling, but neither of you moves to clean it up yet. He likes you like thisâfull of him, marked by him.
âLove youâ he murmurs, pressing one last kiss to your shoulder before tightening his hold. You squeeze his hand where itâs still laced with yours.
âMm, love you too.â You whispered before drifting off in his arms.
boyfriend!steve when ur on your period *.â€ïžâ âč
you were curled up on the couch, the heating pad on high where it rested on your stomach. the sound of steves footsteps and a bag rustling began drowning out the quiet sounds of sixteen candles playing on the tv across the room.
his hair brushed your nose as he leaned down to kiss your forehead âhey, sweetheart. i made a stop at the storeâ his hands began to gently card through your hair.
you tilted your head back wiith a tired smile as you looked up at the midol and milkshake he was holding up like a trophy. âthe pharmacist said this oneâs like extra.. cramp-fightyâ he began to open the bottle of medicine.
he looked so proud of himself it made your heart flutter. youâd been dating steve for over a year now, and he was always so tender and caring during your menstrual cycles. âyou didnât have to all that, stevieâ
he kneeled down in front of you on the couch to press a hand onto the heating pad while guiding the medicine to your lips â âcourse i did, canât just let my girl suffer alone.â a soft pink blush hit your cheeks as you opened your mouth to take the medicine, he guided your water to your lips. âthis thing warm enough for you? i can turn it up? yâknow i read online that-â
âthe heats fineeee, stevie. itâs just the pain thatâs not going awayâ you whined softly, and his face fell instantly. he hated how much pain you were in, and that there was nothing he could truly do about it.
âim so sorry, baby. i hate that you go through this every month.. tell me what you need from me. anything. anything at all.â his hand began to gently massage your stomach in soft circles, pressing down on your abdomen with just enough pressure.
a soft sigh escaped your lips âjust.. more of that.. and maybe you could hold me?â
he nodded instantly and slid in behind you on the couch, his arms encircling your waist as he held your back to his chest. âwish i could take it all away for you, id take every bit if i couldâ his lips pressed against your temple as you snuggled deeper into his embrace.
âyouâre so sweet to me, stevie.â you loved being his, and being his meant he would always be the who would take care of you without question.
âyou sure i canât yâ know.. fight em with a nail bat or something?â his playful and teasing tone washed over you and a soft laugh escaped your lips. you turned your head to look at him with clear fondness in your eyes âyou are an idiot, steve harringtonâ
-âȘâĄ
this was an anon request but so cute, i love. likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!
thinking about having a lazy day with gator that ends up with you sprawled on your stomach over his lap on the couch, his fingers wrenching orgasm after orgasm out of you.
he acts like heâs preoccupied by the movie playing on the tv, but when your shaking body tries to inch away for a moment of rest, he gives your ass a nice smack and pulls you back in for more
donât mind if i yes
MDNI//SMUT- overstimulation, multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering, cock warming, spanking, kinda brat reader, kinda praise kink, softdom? gator, lil bit of ass play
&&
heâs sitting on the couch when you bop into the room, holding two bowls of cookies & cream.
âwatching anything good?â you ask, holding out one of the bowls to him, and he takes it, glancing up at you.
ânot really,â gator says, shifting himself back a little as you step over his legs, watching as you settle next to him on his left side. âjust a race.â
you turn toward the tv and groan quietly, rolling your eyes because yes, heâs watching nascar, and theyâre only on lap, like, 15.
the ice cream is gone way before the race ends, and while gator stays watching the tv, the zoom and whine of the car engines droning on and on, you canât stand another fucking second of it.
you shift yourself closer to him, turning so youâre sitting sideways, your knees half in his lap, your arm draped along the back of the couch as you play with his hair, your chin resting on his shoulder.
âcan i help you?â he asks, turning to look at you, and you just shrug.
âarenât you bored?â you ask, checking the tv screen. theyâre on lap 47 now.
âno,â he says, but he slips his arm around your waist instead, not pulling you onto him but holding you.
âwell, iâm bored,â you say, just bratty enough that he looks at you for more than a fleeting moment. his hazel eyes are locked onto yours, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
âand what, exactly, dâya want me ta do about that?â he asks you, and you can tell by the lilt in his tone that he already knows what he wants to do about it.
âi dunno,â you tease. âentertain me.â
gator chuckles, low. edging on dangerous. âfuckinâ needy brat,â he says, and without warning he moves the arm thatâs behind you, pushing you facedown over his lap, your knees pressing into his left leg and your head on his right side, stretched over him. yanking your hoodie up, he exposes the expanse of your lower back and your ass, currently covered with a pair of loose shorts. âwhatcha got ta say now?â
âiâm marginally more entertained,â you say, and he laughs out loud this time.
âoh, sugar,â he says, âyer in fer it.â
he canât see your face, and you canât see his, but he can feel the way you tense up with anticipation as he roughly pulls your shorts down, rubbing his hand over your ass, still covered with your panties, and then gives you a nice, sharp slap. you gasp, and he rubs at you again.
âwell?â he prompts.
âyeah, thatâsâthatâs way more fun.â
gator hums. âthought so.â he leaves his hand there for a moment, watching the tv, leaning forward over you just a little as one of the drivers attempts to pass another one, but doesnât quite manage it. gator sucks his teeth, disappointed, and looks back down at you like he forgot you were there. then, with one swift movement, he slides his left hand into the back of your underwear, pushing them down to where your shorts are resting around your thighs and at the same time, curling two fingers into your cunt.
you gasp again, but this time it melts into a moan and you shift yourself forward a little so your hips are perfectly centered on his lap, allowing him to touch you with both hands if he wanted to. but it seems that right now, at least, thatâs not something heâs looking to do.
he fingers you. slow, deep, curling them into you until youâre whining for more, lifting yourself up onto your knees just enough to raise yourself off his lap, trying to push back into his hand. when you do thatâevery single timeâhe pulls his fingers out of you and gives you a little smack right on your ass cheek, and by the time he starts using both hands, thereâs just about a handprint on your ass, the skin warm to the touch and tender.
âif ya just behaved i wouldnât need ta teach ya like so, now would i?â gator asks, and you shake your head.
âno,â you say, agreeing with him, and to show you that was the right answer, he slips his left hand out of your folds and moves it to your clit, letting his right hand curve down between your legs and rub at your wet slit.
âya gonna behave now?â he asks, and you nod.
âyes, gator,â you answer, and he smiles; you can hear it when he speaks next.
âgood girl,â he says, and you preen. âtakinâ this so well, ainât ya?â
âyes,â you breathe, and gator pushes his fingers into you, pressing them against your walls, as he rubs over your clit with his other hand, the pads of his middle and ring fingers circling it.
your first orgasm is quick and sudden, as he coaxes it from you, your cunt clenching around him and he rubs over your pussy with his right hand, smearing your arousal all over you, even up between your ass cheeks, but he returns back to your cunt, sliding his fingers right back home inside of you.
theyâre on lap 60.
âletâs see how many we can get ta before the race is over,â gator suggests, lazily, like heâs not about to have you writhing and trembling on top of him.
âhow manyâmany laps is it?â you ask, and he changes the way heâs rubbing your clit.
âgot ânother one-hundred-and-forty tâgo,â he says, and you squeeze down on him. âcan ya be my good girl fer that long, huh? i bet ya can.â
âgator,â you whine, but you just nod as he starts fucking you with his fingers again.
âyâcan stop me whenever yâwant,â he reminds you. âwhatâs the word?â
âcrocodile,â you whisper, and he smirks.
âcanât believe i let ya pick that,â he says, checking the race. lap 65.
he starts working you over again, and this time youâre panting, loudly, already feeling everything too much as he languidly moves his fingers over your clit, fucking your tight pussy with two fingers, scissoring them gradually because you know heâs going to work you up to three, and then you know whatâs coming after that.
you come again, gushing around his fingers, your cunt throbbing and your clit spasming against his hand, but he doesnât give you any respite this time, he just keeps going, and you come again, crying out his name as you do, but you still donât need to stop. youâre starting to feel fuzzy, the way you like, and you whimper when gator eases a third finger inside your slit.
lap 90.
âyâall right, sugar?â he asks, and you turn back to look at him, eyes half-lidded, lips parted.
âyes,â you affirm, and he looks down at you, eyes moving over your face, taking in your features.
âyou all right?â he asks again, enunciating, voice stern. demanding.
âyes,â you say, voice steady, and he nods. he slips his hands out of your pussy and moves it up, between your ass cheeks, and rubs his wet fingers over your hole.
âoh, fuck,â you groan, pushing back up against his hand. he hums quietly, but doesnât enter you thereâhe just circles your asshole at the same exact slow fucking pace that heâs using on your clit, and that brings you to your fourth orgasm. itâs starting to feel too much; you donât want to stop, though, you want to make it to the end of the race even though theyâre onâyou checkâlap 100 and that means thereâs 100 more and youâre starting to think that you might not make it that long.
unconsciously, you squirm away from gator as he slides his hand back down between your legs, starting to press his fingers inside of you again. you manage to move so far that his fingers donât make it inside, and all that earns you is a wet swat on your other ass cheek.
heâs stopped moving now, his fingers hovering slightly away from your clit, because if youâre about to safe word he needs his hands elsewhere.
âitâsâtoo much,â you say, âbut i donât want to stop.â
âif itâs too much, weâre stoppinâ,â he says, and this time when you push yourself up to kneel next to him, he lets you.
âi just wanna stop this,â you say. âbut i still wantâyou.â
he looks up at you, kneeling above him, as your eyes drag down from his face to his chestâheaving a little from how turned on he is, not that heâd ever have acted on it until you wanted more or wanted to stopâand finally you see his cock, bulging up in his jeans, tenting the fabric between his legs, completely ignored by him.
âyou sure?â gator asks, and you nod, reaching down to slide your shorts and panties off your legs, leaving your oversized hoodie on as he lifts his ass off the couch, undoing his button and fly and pushing them down along with his underwear. his cock springs free, swollen and flushed pink, red at the tip, wet and oozing precome from the slit. âcâmere.â
you move so each of your knees are on either side of him, and as he leans back against the couch, holding himself up straight for you, you sink down onto his length, settling yourself onto his lap as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding yourself to him as you sit on his cock.
âthis is better,â you mumble. âcan stay like this for another hundred laps.â
gator chuckles, wrapping his arms around you too, resting his chin on your shoulder to keep his eyes on the race.
âthatâs my good girl,â he says, rubbing your back through your hoodie, cock twitching inside of you as you keep him deep inside, your heart fluttering in time with his.
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