Electric Lasso

Hayley • 30s • she/her • silversmith • lover of cowboys • reader of smut

[cupofzo]

This specific moment.

[mstgsmy66]

[gothcsz]

[a7estrellas]

PEDRO PASCAL enjoying his tacos de birria

[aurorawritestoescape]

NOTHING’S GONNA HURT YOU BABY

Step uncle Joel Miller x fem!reader x step dad Tommy Miller

Bad Blood Extra || can be read as a stand alone || 4,8k

Summary: feeling sad about leaving Austin and returning to college, you decide to take something with you — a hot sex tape, starring Tommy, you and Joel.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel and Tommy are in their late and mid-40s), shooting a sex video, cnc, stepcest play, rough sex, mean!Joel, soft!Tommy with darkish vibes, coercion play, slutshaming, mfm, unprotected DVP, m!oral, ass/tit slapping, throat fucking, multiple orgasms, creampies, degradation kink, praise kink, daddy kink, uncle kink (is this a thing?lol), fingering, swearing.

A/n: thank you for this request, nonnie!💞 I hope you’ll enjoy the fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. Lots of affectionate spanking to my baby @milla-frenchy for beta-ing the fic♥️ Happy birthday @nana90azevedo 🎉 💐 Joel, Tommy, Angel and I wish all your wet dreams come true! (Joel added ‘wet’ I apologise for his behaviour) and thank you for your continuous support and love of this series!🥹🫂 Titled after the song by Cigarettes after sex. Dividers by @/enchanthings

Bad Blood Masterlist || MASTERLIST

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Tommy asks, breaking the silence. You two are having lunch on a patio of an Italian restaurant, and usually you’re very chatty but not today. Spinning your fork in a plate of Carbonara, you sigh,

“Last day saddies. I hate to go back. Hate to leave you.”

“Me too, baby. I wish you could stay.” Your boyfriend takes your hand and searches for your eyes. “But soon we’ll always be together, yeah?”

You nod, your face lights up a little. You can’t wait to graduate and move to Austin. Every time you have to return to college you feel like you’re leaving your heart back here. Your last night with Tommy is always restless even if he does his best to tire you out with the most amazing sex.

“What can I do to cheer you up, my love?” Tommy asks carefully and your heart swells hearing his gentle tone, seeing warmth in his eyes which are waiting for an answer. You still can’t get used to how sweet he is.

“This place is great. Thank you for taking me out.”

Tommy leans forward closer to you.

“Maybe you have something else in mind?”

You take a sip of water and think.

“Mm I don’t know.”

Tommy sighs.

“Well, if you think of anything, let me know. I’ll make it happen.”

He gives you a wink and you purr,

“You’re the best, daddy.”

Feeling frisky you glide your foot over his calf under the table and Tommy chuckles, his brown eyes glinting with a naughty spark.

“Bad girl.”

He’s so handsome right now - a white shirt clings to his broad shoulders, his dark curls are moving in the wind. Wishing to capture the moment you take your phone off the table and snap a selfie of you two - a shy smile on Tommy’s face, yours is glowing with love.

Suddenly an idea pops into your head.

“Oh my god! I know! I know what’ll make me feel better!”

Tommy immediately catches your excitement.

“What is it?”

You put your phone down and bite your lip, scared that he’d say no.

“C’mon. Tell me.” Tommy pushes, noticing your hesitation.

“What if.. ehm..we shoot a video?”

Tommy raises his brows.

“Like.. of our day?”

“No, of our night.” Your lips spread into a playful grin and Tommy realizes what you mean.

“Ohhh..”

“Yeahh…” You nod and lean closer to him. Gliding your hand over his muscular arm, you say in a sultry voice, “I’ll watch it back in my dorm when I miss you, daddy…When I’m all alone and needy. So horny for my sexy boyfriend.”

Tommy’s eyes darken, they move to your lips, his cheeks rosy. Then he reaches closer and kisses you.

You melt and gush in your panies as he teases you with light pecks, then swipes his tongue over your lower lip and licks inside your mouth. Two can play this game so being naughty you take his tongue between your lips and suck. Tommy growls and deepens the kiss.

When you part from each other, you both are extremely hungry but not for food.

“Yeah, great idea,” Tommy croaks and takes a swig of his cold beer.

With your pussy still aching, you squeal and clap your hands, attracting attention of some guests.

“What about Joel? Gonna miss him, too?” Tommy asks, taking a bite and glancing at you.

You scoff but the idea of having that hot motherfucker on video makes you lick your lips.

“I won’t miss him-“ you lie, “but… maybe we can invite him?”

“Maybe we can,” Tommy smirks. “Wanna text him?”

“Ok!” You say gleefully and grab your phone.

You have a tripod? You send to the contact named Jerk🍆

You place your phone back, not expecting Joel to answer you soon, that man never checks his messages, but to your surprise your phone vibrates a few seconds later.

Yes. What time we filming?

“What the fuck?” You lift your widened eyes at Tommy. “How does he know what we wanna do? You told him?”

“When? You’ve just come up with the idea.”

“Then how does he..?”

“It’s his superpower,” Tommy chuckles mid-chew. “He’s like a sex psychic. Feels those things instantly.”

Another text from Joel appears on the screen.

??

Shaking your head in awe you text back.

Tonight. Bring the tripod.

It’s 9:30 pm and you’re sitting on Tommy’s bed in his rented apartment. The renovation of his new house is taking longer than he anticipated so he decided to get himself a place. You love this temporary love nest for Tommy and you but you also miss staying at Joel’s. You’ll never admit it though.

The tripod with your phone is standing on the floor by the corner of the bed. The camera is directed at you and already filming, you hit the record button a few moments ago.

The room is dark and like a stage only the bed is illuminated. There are lamps on the nightstands and a bright floor lamp that Joel dragged into the room himself.

“Lightin’ ‘s the most important thing,” Joel stated with expertise in his voice and you wondered how many times he’d used that tripod. And with whom.

To make the atmosphere more sensual you also placed a little mood lamp nearby that now casts a reddish glow onto the bed.

Stage fright makes your stomach churn for a second when you glance at the camera lenses but then you take a deep breath and say loudly,

“Come in!”

Tommy and Joel walk into the room, or rather saunter inside, sex appeal oozing from both of them. Your heart and pussy throb when your eyes slide over your boyfriend. Tommy wanted the video to be special for you so he’s wearing your favorite black shirt with skulls embroidered on the front, white pants, his long hair tied in a man bun. He looks like a snack.

Joel always dresses like a porn star so it’s not surprising that his outfit screams Sex. He’s wearing a barely buttoned shirt over his naked torso and tight dark jeans.

“Howdy, angel.” Joel tips an invisible cowboy hat to you and you roll your eyes at first but then remember the role play you agreed on so you sit up and give the men a sweet smile.

“Hi uncle Joel. Hi daddy.”

You tug down on the hem of a silky robe you have on, feigning modesty, as the men walk around the tripod and come up to you at the opposite sides of the bed.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you doing?” Tommy coos and sits down next to you. Joel keeps standing, hands on his hips, huge bulge at your eye level.

Tommy brushes away a lock of your hair and your skin erupts with goosebumps at the soft touch.

“All good. Just a little sad.”

“Why's that?”

“I don’t wanna leave home. I’m gonna miss you two. And mom.”

Joel barks a laugh but when you glare up at him he coughs into his hand.

“Yeah,” Tommy sighs. “Maybe we can cheer you up.”

You blink at him with fake ignorance and Joel explains,

“Want a present from your daddy and uncle?”

Joel palms himself and Tommy smirks, throwing his brother a knowing look.

“I love presents!” You exclaim and bounce on the bed, making your robe open up a little and expose more of your cleavage.

“Bet you do, little slut,” Joel mumbles, staring at your tits, but you pretend you haven’t heard it.

“What is it?”

“Oh,” Joel climbs on the bed and kneels at your side. “Give me your hand.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile and offer your hand to him. Joel immediately brings it to his bulge.

“Feel it. It’s right here. Waiting for ya.”

The lump under your hand is stiff as a rock and your mouth waters, remembering all the times you had Joel’s cock and balls between your lips.

“It’s big,” You gasp theatrically and glance at the phone.

“Hell yeah, baby. Wanna see?”

Timidly you put your hand away and drop your head down.

“Mm.. I don’t know..”

“Hey.” Tommy pinches your chin and tilts your head up to face him. His pupils are blown as he says. “It’s so hot tonight. Why don’t you take your robe off?” His black eyes roam your still covered body and you wrap your garment around your torso tighter.

“Mom won’t like it if my stepdad sees me almost naked.”

Tommy takes a sharp breath and Joel groans, bucking his hips in your direction. He cups your cheek and you look at him.

“We won’t tell her, babygirl. No one will know.”

“No one,” Tommy promises and his fingers caress your knee.

You pretend to consider the decision and then nod curtly.

You untie the robe and it slowly slides off your shoulders, pooling on the bed. The men grunt and instinctively move closer to you when you reveal your lingerie - a light pink mesh set with little white hearts. Joel growls, taking you in, but Tommy’s eyes get glossy, his voice croaks and he asks,

“Is it..?”

You nod with a warm smile touched by the fact that he remembers. You were wearing it the first time Tommy and Joel fucked you. After the dinner date. One of the hottest nights of your life.

“You’re beautiful,” Tommy gushes, breaking the character and glides his palm over your arm.

“Thank you, daddy,” you drop your head and stare at your thighs.

Joel rolls his eyes and steers the scene back.

“Still too much clothes, niece. Let me help you.” He reaches behind your back and like a magician unclasps your bra in a blink.

“Joel!” You gasp as it falls down, exposing your naked tits. Your chest heaving, you cover yourself with your hands and shake your head.

“No, I can’t do it.”

You grab your robe but Tommy stops your hand and scoots closer to you.

“Whoah, whoah, sweetie, hold your horses.”

“No daddy, I can’t. It’s wrong. My mom wanted you to be a father figure for me.. not… this,” you mewl, still keeping your hands over your breasts.

Tommy climbs on the bed and kneels by your side. He cranes his body to hug you and his lips brush your ear as he whispers,

“I can be anyone you want, but you’ll need to become my little slut first.”

“Daddy…,” you breathe out, your eyes flutter closed, your core puckers, your panties are getting soaked.

Slowly like two predators circling its prey, the men cage you between their broad bodies. You timidly glance up at them, begging for mercy but their gazes are dark and menacing.

“Uncle, please,” you plead but Joel gives you a carnal smile and grabs his bulge.

“M’sorry, sexy, but you’re getting this present tonight.”

His voice is hoarse and lustful, his breath hot on your neck and breasts and your nipples stiffen up from these invisible kisses. Your eyes dart between the men as they’re staring down at you like hungry wolves at a bunny that has nowhere to run. Heat raises in your core and you almost moan.

“And if I try to leave?” You say, your voice is shaky with arousal but it seems like you’re scared. “You two won’t take me by force, right?”

It’s impossible to hide how much this turns you on, your eyes are glazed over with want. Tommy’s voice is quiet but it holds such power over your body, you start trembling.

“If you ask like a good girl we might let you go.”

Your chest is rising and falling, your pussy aches, and you whimper,

“Please. Let me go.”

Joel scoffs and brings his hand to your hair. Your breathing hitches when he softly scratches your scalp. Suddenly he grabs a handful and yanks your head back, making you gasp. His face hovers over yours as he grunts,

“He said we ‘might’ not ‘will’.”

“No!”

Your palms hit his naked chest, you push him away but to no avail. He keeps you in place with the hand in your hair.

“You leave this room when we say so,” he hisses into your face. “And only when your pussy’s full of our cum, little slut.”

You burn up with hot need and move your eyes to the side to see Tommy change the position and get behind you. A muscular arm wraps around your torso, a hard chest hits your naked back.

“He’s right,” Tommy rasps into your ear as his fingers knead your naked breasts and lightly pull on your nipples. “I was too soft with you, my sweet stepdaughter. Gave you what you wanted. Now we gonna take what we need.”

You’re breathing heavily, your lips parted. You didn’t expect them both to be so good at this game and your pussy leaks into your panties, your clit throbs between your folds, and seeking relief, you grind your pelvis against the bed.

“Look at her, brother,” Joel smirks, noticing your pathetic search for pressure. “Rubbin’ her cunt on the sheets. Gonna leave her snail trails all over.”

Tommy tuts and you cry out as a palm on your back pushes you down. You land on your hands and hastily turn around to make weak attempts to fight the men off.

“No, please, I don’t want it,” you beg, glancing up at the phone, your pussy crying. You can’t wait to watch it later.

“I won’t let you!” You scream but not so loud as to attract the neighbours’ concern. After you try to sit up, Joel puts his hand on your neck and holds you down.

“Like we need your permission, dirty whore,” he barks, slapping your tit and drawing a cry out of you. “Tommy’s right. You turned into a little brat. Daddy, no, uncle, no. Fuck this! Our cocks need milkin’ and you’re the best candidate for the job.”

You’re whimpering and fake-sobbing, ready for the brothers to do whatever they want and shaking with adrenaline.

Tommy leans in and whispers, “Is this ok? You good, my love?”

“Yeah… yes.” You nod eagerly, your voice confident. You want them both to be rough with you so much you might cry.

Tommy’s softness makes you push harder and with a fiery gaze you slap Joel’s hand off your neck and hiss,

“Fuck you both!”

You rush to escape but Tommy grabs you and easily manhandles you onto your front. He pushes you into the mattress, his knee on the back of your thighs. You try to snake away but he grabs your wrists and binds them behind your back with his strong hands. Now you’re helpless with your cheek pressed to the sheets, your arms restricted.

While Tommy’s holding you down, Joel starts undressing. When he’s done, his face appears in front of yours. With a usual assholish smile he coos,

“You were so sad before, angel. Bet ya happy now.”

“Jerk!” The word is muffled by the sheet at your mouth, you’re glaring at him, enjoying every second of this.

“No one’s gonna help you,” Tommy smirks, lovingly gliding his warm hand over your asscheek, your see-through panties not covering anything. “You might cry or beg. Your holes are ours tonight. You’ll be lucky if you can walk tomorrow.”

You whine and squirm on the bed, until Joel slaps your ass and you freeze.

“Quit it, niecy. Or I’ll spank it raw.”

Your pupils dilate and Joel notices.

“Ohhh she wants it, bro.”

Tommy scoffs.

“Of course. Bad girls love to be spanked. And this one is naughty as hell.” Even his degradation sounds sweet in his velvet voice. He follows Joel’s suit and gives your ass a juicy slap. The stroke sends rays of pleasure through your pussy and you moan.

The men laugh and you bite your lip, wishing they’d do it again. But Joel has a better idea.

“We’ll spank you more, when our cocks are ruining your tight cunt.”

“At the same time?” You cry out wishing to give them the idea, barely hiding your excitement.

“Not sure you can take us yet. Let’s check, Tommy.” The younger brother pulls your panties down and slides them down your legs.

“No! Stop!” You scream and thrash around, completely exposed now. You have no chance of overpowering them so it takes seconds for the men to manhandle you in the position they want — your naked ass up in the air, your cheek pressed to the bed, they both holding you down. You flinch when someone’s fingers slide between your folds.

“Fuck, she’s dripping wet.” You hear Joel groan behind you. You moan and whine looking up at the camera.

“Let me see.” Tommy gathers some of your slick and swirls his fingers around your clit once, twice, then stops. Your hole clenches with despair but next second he pushes two fingers inside it and begins scissoring you open, getting you ready for god knows what. You settled on the role play before the night but not the details; you wanted it to be a surprise.

Tommy pulls his fingers out and you hear him suck on them, tasting your wet arousal.

“Still too tight. We’ll split her in two,” he mumbles with his fingers still in the mouth.

“Fuck her open, Tommy.” Joel offers your pussy like you’re a cheap hooker and a half sob half moan escapes your lips. The younger brother pushes your legs wider apart with his knee and settles behind you.

“You’re both fucked in the head!” You cry out and try to get away but fail miserably when Joel places his wide palm on your head and pushes down.

“Naughty kitten,” Tommy growls. His hands grab your hips, fingers dig into your soft flesh.

You hear a belt unbuckling, a zipper opening and like Pavlov’s dog you start salivating. He throws his clothes off and then his hot cock lands on your asscheek. You whimper, ready to be pierced.

“Big breaths, little slut,” Joel smirks. “Gonna hurt less if you relax.”

You fake shaky sobs and squeeze your eyes shut, ready to take the meaty cock of your daddy.

And you take it well. Tommy feeds his length to your cunt slowly, inch by inch, letting you feel every rim and vein. He spreads your folds with his thumbs for a better viewing and when his heavy balls hit your pussy you both moan loudly, not hiding how great it feels.

“Damn, sweetie, you’re so tight,” Tommy groans and starts rocking his hips languidly at first, letting you get used to the big cock deep inside you. Joel glides his palm over your back, leaving goosebumps on your skin.

“I’ve fucked lots of cunts, need to test this one out,” he muses and you throw him a glare.

“Man whore,” you spit as jealousy pricks your heart. “Alrighty,” Joel chuckles, “let’s plug this dirty mouth of yours.”

With that he stands on his knees and pulls his dick out. It’s bobbing over your face now, mighty and hard, dropping precum on your cheek, and you want to gobble on it but staying in the role you yell,

“Don’t even think about it! I’ll bite it off!”

“Nah,” Joel smirks, grabbing you by the hair again and pulling your head up and off the bed. “Once you taste this shlong, you’ll ask for more.”

You’re standing on hands and knees now, swaying back and forth with Tommy fucking your pussy. Joel gets in front of you and like a good actor checks if he’s not covering you from the view of the camera. Then he pinches your chin and commands,

“Say Ahhhh. Time to get your present.”

You do it, not without sending him to hell first. Soon you can’t speak though, Joel’s cock taking all the space in your saliva-filled mouth.

The brothers are plowing your holes, sawing their dicks in and out, your eyes crossed from pleasure. Tears are running down your cheeks when Joel pushes his cock all the way into your throat. It’s not your first rodeo so you take his cock like a champ, curling your lips, slurping and drooling. When your lips circle around Joel’s base, his length stuffed in your throat, Joel holds your head in place and grunts,

“Tongue out, angel, lick my balls.” He lifts and holds them pressed to the underside of his cock, on his palm like on a silver platter for you. Your eyes flick to the camera - it better be capturing this. Starting to suffocate, you stick your tongue out under the hard shaft and reach reach reach… until the tip of your tongue glides over the fuzzy skin.

Joel cheers,

“That’s my slut! She’s gifted, Tommy,” he says and both men chuckle. You gag and slap Joel’s thigh. He immediately pulls you off his dick and your saliva streams down your chin and on the bedsheets, your chest heaving as you are wheezing and swallowing air.

“You’re sick,” you croak, your throat fucked already. Your arms and legs are shaking under you, your pussy still being used by Tommy but he’s slowed down, letting you calm down.

Joel pays your comment no mind. He gets off the bed and takes your phone off the tripod.

You understand why when he stands by the side of the bed and directs the camera at your fucked out face, eyes glossy, cheeks tear stricken, lips puffy and wet with spit and Joel’s precum.

“Smileeee,” he sings, mocking you, and when you flip him a bird he chuckles and moves the camera. He starts filming the place where Tommy and you are joined.

“C’mon, little star, show us how good you’re at taking a cock.”

“She’s doing great,” Tommy praises and coos, “Best stepdaughter ever.”

You smile and clench around him, coaxing a groan from the man. Not stopping his thrusts, Tommy leans forward, slides his palm over your juggling ass and arched back, then grabs your asscheeks and spreads them wider apart. You glance back. Joel holds the camera close to your heat and you wish you could see it right now, too — your hole stretched around Tommy’s cock, creaming around his base, you pussy sucking in his fat dick every time he pulls back.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Joel says, looking at the screen. “Bet we can get good money if we stream it.”

Tommy chuckles between heavy breathing and you lift your head.

“No!! No streaming.”

Joel waves you off with his hand.

“Chill, babygirl. I kid. For now,” he adds under his nose and you whine again.

It gets quiet for some time except for the sounds of skin on skin slapping so you turn your head and see the men discuss something without words. Just gestures and eyes.

Tommy pulls out and slaps your ass.

“On your side.”

“Please, can I go?”

Joel sets the phone back on the tripod and replies to your question.

“Ya feel any cum in your holes, slut? If no, then we ain’t done.”

You sniff and get on your side obediently. Joel plops behind you and big spoons you. His arm bonds you to him, his chest by your back, his lips brush your ear.

“Ready for us?” He nibbles on your earlobe while you’re watching Tommy lie down in front of you.

“Daddy, what are you gonna do?”

“We’re gonna spend some time like a happy family. Together.” He smirks and you swallow loudly.

“Who goes first?” Joel gruffs into your neck and Tommy says,

“I’ll start.” Now he turns to you, “put your leg here.” He pats his hip and you do it, mumbling,

“M’scared.”

“It’s ok, sweetie. Daddy’s here.” Tommy leans forward and your lips meet. Your breath catches as you forget about your role and kiss him back sensually.

While Tommy’s kneading your breast, his tongue deep in your mouth, Joel grumbles and pierces you on his cock from behind.

You moan into Tommy’s mouth, adjusting to the hot rod inside you, and he parts from you.

“I thought I was gonna be first,” he snickers.

“The early cock gets the hole.”

“Isn’t it ‘the early bird’?” you ask and whine when Joel rolls his hips and sends his member deeper into you.

“Don’t be a smart ass,” he gruffs into your ear and stops moving. You glance back with confusion in your blown out eyes and he wiggles his brows up and down.

“Waitin’ for your daddy to join us.”

Your mouth pops open and you gasp when Joel rolls onto his back, pulling you with him, his cock still buried inside you. In a flash you’re lying on top of him, your front up.

“What are you..?” You start asking but Tommy cuts you off when he pushes your legs up and Joel grabs your thighs, opening you up for his brother. Tommy settles over Joel’s legs, his cock bobbing, and asks,

“You’re so full already, baby. Think you can take more?”

You shake your head.

“I can’t, daddy. You’re too big. Both of you.”

“No doubt,” Joel mumbles and snaps his hips up. His tip kisses your cervix and you gasp.

“We can do it. I’ll help.”

Tommy gives you a reassuring smile and draws circles around your clit with his leaky tip.

“Oh daddy,” you moan, clenching around Joel’s shaft, making him groan. Tommy keeps pleasuring you with his fat crown, alternating between massaging your clit and slapping it rhythmically. You can’t hold off the heat rising in your core and soon come on Joel’s cock.

“Fuckkkkkkk,” the older brother moans, squeezing you tight in his arms. “I ain’t gonna last, bro, hurry up.”

“Coming,” Tommy smiles watching you jerk with ecstasy hits, proud of his work. He bends down, keeping his weight on one hand that’s planted on the bed, and nudges your already spread hole with his cockhead.

“Daddy, it won’t fit.” You pant after a delicious orgasm.

“It will, sweetie. You just need to really want it, want your daddy and uncle inside you.”

You flood Joel’s cock with your slick as Tommy pushes his tip inside you, his thumb helping to squeeze it in.

“Fuck she’s tight,” he mutters under his breath but doesn’t give up.

“I’ll help,” Joel says and pinches your clit.

You whine and he laughs before his fingers start rubbing your overstimulated bud. You swap his hand away but he brings it back.

“Don’t — slap! Stop it! I’ll just pet your kitty.” It burns for a few moments but soon under Joel’s skilled fingers the pain turns into pleasure and your hole opens up little by little until Tommy’s head disappears inside you. He moans and keeps thrusting forward while Joel is massaging your puffy clit until Tommy bottoms out as well, joining his brother inside you.

“Oh my… you’re everywhere,” you groan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. It really feels like this - like they occupy every cell in your body, every nook and cranny.

“Breathe, angel.” Joel reminds you, his big hands cupping your tits. He sounds like he’s on the edge, holding onto the last straw, postponing his climax.

All three of you are panting, bodies glistening with sweat, moaning and grunting in the reddish light of the room.

You flutter your eyes open and look at Tommy hovering over you.

“You can move. Both of you,” you say and Tommy starts fucking you, setting the rhythm for both men. In and out. In and out. In and out.

Joel follows and soon two hard cocks are pumping your poor pussy, stretched to the maximum, crying over them, thumping with your fast heartbeat. Their pushed-together cocks rub every nerve ending you have inside your core and inevitably your walls begin contracting.

Oh fuckkkkk!

Shitttttt!

Aahhhhh!

You moan loudly, the men roar as you start unravelling between them, Joel under you, Tommy over, your pussy squeezing their cocks so hard they almost get pushed out. The brothers keep fucking you through your earth shattering orgasm giving you every last drop of ecstasy.

‘Mgonnacome,” Joel breathes out against your temple and starts spilling his seed against your walls. His dick throbs in your pulsing cunt and Tommy can’t resist any longer. He groans loudly and begins adding his cum to Joel’s inside you. They squirt more and more jizz into your core until it spills out and trickles down your ass and onto Joel’s balls.

All three of you are slowly coming down from your highs, breaths laboured, skin wet with postfuck dew. Sandwiched between the brothers, you lock eyes with Tommy and giggle.

“You did amazing, my love,” he praises you, his face hovering over yours.

“You, too, daddy. I loved every second.”

Joel clears his throat, shifting on the bed under your body, and you roll your eyes and glance back at him.

“You were good, too. Go easy on the jokes next time though.”

“No way. It’s comedy gold in there.”

Three heads turn to your phone which is still filming. Joel slaps your thigh and asks,

“Who wants to watch this shit and then fuck some more?”

Thank you for reading! Please, leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed the story💞

Bad Blood Masterlist || MASTERLIST

Tag list for the series: milla-frenchy @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @/nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox-5 @ashleyfilm @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquent-dreamer @ashhlsstuff @pinkiec6-rubi @guelyury @mydarlingjoel @604to647

Tag list: @/milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @/mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @keylimebeag @pascaltesaye @meetmeatyourworst @callmebyyournick-name @tateypots @pedrofan @chloeee20 @ess-evo @upintheclouds95 @/ashleyfilm @shadowqueen2024 @time-for-my-weekly-spanking @iamladyp @somebody-get-me-rehab

Joel tag @libre-sol @roserxein

[604to647]

The Detective and The Agent (Part 3: Until Next Time)

7.3K / Detective Tim Rockford x fem!reader x Agent Marcus Pike

Summary: You, Tim and Marcus make a souvenir of your time together.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI pls). MFM Threesome, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected PiV (assumed discussed), established relationship (potential a new dynamic?🤔), petnames as usual (Tim calls Reader: Shutterbug, baby, gorgeous; Marcus calls her: pretty girl, hunny), dirty talk, sex tape, anal play, cum play, aftercare.

A/N: 🛎️🛎️ Ding, Ding! Come get your porn!! Sorry this took so long! I seem to have a recurring problem finishing miniseries 😅😅 but I hope this conclusion for our horny threesome was worth the wait! This final chapter starts where Part 2 left off, but as with all previous parts in the series, this is unapologetic, filthy PWP so feel free to read as a standalone - and once again, kindly do not look me in the eyes, thanks 🙏🏻

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist / anytime food is mentioned, feel free to imagine tacos 🌮 🤣🤣

You can think of no better way to spend your Sunday morning than leisurely wandering the breathtaking collections at the LA County Museum of Art with a handsome LAPD detective and dashing FBI agent.

Marcus in particular is keen to explore and take in LACMA’s impressive exhibits, ever enthusiastically pulling you this way and that to show you a piece that he’s been eager to see in person.  For the most part, Tim trails behind you and his friend in quiet contemplation, silently moved by the gravitas of the surrounding art and genuinely glad for your obvious enjoyment of Marcus’ choice in outing. 

Occasionally, you’ll linger on a piece and turn to find the two men chatting amiably; Marcus more often than not gesturing excitedly at a painting or sculpture while Tim listens thoughtfully. 

Could your boyfriend be any sweeter?  You know for a fact that Tim doesn’t have any particular interest in either classical or modern art, but no one looking at the two men would ever be able to tell.  Your normally stoic and serious detective pays his friend the courtesy of his full undivided attention without hint of boredom or irritation, giving Marcus leave to effusively demonstrate expertise and enthusiasm for his favourite subject.

Gosh, you adore them both.

You, however, cannot be credited with such laser focus, no matter how much you believe the art around you deserves it.  Not when you have two such charismatic and striking specimens to ogle, whose broad wingspans and towering profiles rival the idealized proportions of the classic Greek statues on display in this very museum.

From across the gallery, you admire the backsides of both men, mouth pooling at the sight of Tim clasping both hands behind his back in a classic ‘grandpa stance’ that accentuates his beefy arms and the expanse of his back muscles; meanwhile, Marcus is the opposite of a still life, popping a slutty knee as he uses both hands to animatedly point out interesting details of the museum’s many sights, drawing your attention to the flex of his corded forearms and the thickness of his fingers. 

Are you drooling?

You can easily imagine approaching the men and slotting yourself between their hard bodies, certain that Marcus would throw an arm around your shoulders and continue his oral dissertation without missing a beat, while Tim would wrap a strong, covetous arm around your waist, maybe even cheekily palm your ass – then you’d lean into Tim while laying your head on Marcus’ hand, happily listening to likely the world’s best art history lesson.  It would feel comfortable, safe, right.

But you can’t bring yourself to interrupt them.  Detective Rockford and Agent Pike’s unbreakable bond of friendship is one of the things you appreciate most about both men and treasure for them.  To see your brilliant detective, whose intellect and world-weary instincts so often cast him as a lone hero, display such trust and faith in another law enforcement officer, makes your heart sing – despite all the corruption and darkness that beats down on those who work the force, your Tim is not alone in his goodness.

That’s to say nothing of the way your boyfriend trusts you so completely, remaining unthreatened and utterly secure in your relationship even with Marcus’ addition – every moment spent in the two men’s company only confirms for you that you love the steadiest, most admirable man on the planet. 

That Marcus would befriend your Tim is no wonder at all; the younger man is so affable and sincere, of course he would recognize his own brand of honour and integrity in an older, grittier version of himself.  The FBI agent’s even keeled temperament and unjaded charm are such complements to his friend’s much more guarded nature – both men are of such upstanding quality, they cannot help but improve the other; the openness of Marcus’ heart drawing out the pureness of Tim’s, while Tim’s razor-sharp instincts and protective nature act as an anchor for Marcus’ more idealist tendencies.

You cannot deny how your fondness for the younger man has grown since you first met him; what was once merely intrigue for his similarities to your Tim has blossomed into a true appreciation for the kind, capable and charming man who has come to hold a special place in your and Tim’s lives.

Nearing the end of the museum tour, your eye finds Marcus standing in front of a painting he had spiritedly shown you earlier; only now, he’s silent in his study, contemplative, seemingly hypnotized by the very brush strokes on the canvas.  The way Marcus stares at the painting captivates you - the woman in the portrait sharing with him some unspoken secret, transfixing him so completely.

In that moment, you wonder what it might feel like to have that same appreciation for detail and beauty set upon you - to enchant Agent Pike the same way the works of the old masters do.  The thought refuses to leave you alone, taking clearer shape and overtaking your mind as you continue to walk through the remaining exhibits with Tim, until it sparks an incendiary idea that explodes like a firework.

“Shutterbug?”  Your ever attentive boyfriend looks at you with concern, having noticed the hitch of your breath and the tensing of your frame.

You turn to Detective Rockford, eyes wide and coquettish, tugging down on his sleeve so he’ll lean in and lend you his ear – your breathy whispers grow increasingly hurried as excitement rages like a fire throughout your entire body.

---

After a light lunch, you and Tim drive Marcus to his hotel check-in; feet tired from a long morning of walking, you accept Agent Pike’s invitation to come upstairs and take a short rest in his room.

“Oh, this is so fancy!  The FBI sure knows how to treat its agents,” you tease upon entering the chic setup, eyes immediately drawn to the high-end furniture and bright bay window that offers an impressive view of the city.

“Well, when I talked to Tim last week, he suggested I upgrade to something with a king bed,” Marcus replies, mischievous smirk matching that of your boyfriend’s.

You brighten even more, delighted that the two men would conspire and make dirty plans without you.  As soon as Tim locks the door, you saunter up to him all coy, vibrating with excitement - at your detective’s little nod of approval, you close the distance and kiss him hard.

After a brief, uninhibited make-out, Tim releases you with a rough squeeze of your ass, patting your pert bum and ushering you towards his friend who has already begun to warm in anticipation of your incoming kiss.  Your lips crash against Marcus’, messy and heated, any pretense of why the three of you are in this room completely abandoned.

“Marcus?” you murmur against the press of his eager pout.

“Mmmhmmm?” the man’s roaming hands have already slipped below your waistband, palming fistfuls of your scantily clad bottom.

“Do you think you’ll miss me when you leave LA?”

Marcus pulls back, confusion evident on his handsome face, “Of course, hunny.”

“What do you think you’ll miss most?”

Still unsure of where this is going, but encouraged by the sparkle of your pretty eyes and the cute way you’re biting your lower lip, Marcus tries to articulate his honest answer, “I mean, what isn’t there to miss?  You’re so special, pretty girl… the things you do with your… and the way you make me feel… just look at you?  I…”

You tut cheekily and put a finger to Marcus’ lips to keep him from short-circuiting, “Would it help if you had something to remember me by when you go home?”

Silenced, the FBI agent cocks an eyebrow in surprise at your breathy giggles and Tim’s deep chuckle in the background; his heart thumps as you replace your finger with the lightest brush of your perfect, plush mouth,

“Want to make a movie, Agent?”

---

You’re positioned on your knees in the middle of the luxurious king-sized bed, rubbing your thighs impatiently when your weight drops from the slip of the silky-smooth bedsheets, spreading your legs even wider.  Falling forward, you brace your hands on the plush mattress and arch enticingly, showing off how good your tits look in Tim’s favourite lingerie – you know he loves the way the soft black lace sits pretty and snug, barely covering your curves, while the matching garter attaches to elastic thigh bands that do nothing but beg to be snapped.

From the opposite side of the room, already partially undressed, Tim and Marcus loom, the two men looking powerful and predatory – both eyeing you like a piece of meat.

“Shutterbug?” In contrast to Tim’s intimidating stance, his gentle drawl is so rich with love and protectiveness it makes your pussy flutter, “You ready?”

You nod so vehemently that the tops of your breasts jiggle; your panties dampen further with a fresh wave of arousal as the men approach the bed, both chuckling darkly at your eagerness.

Tim communicates one last silent look for confirmation before holding up your phone to begin filming - at the excited gleam in your eye, he presses the button to record.

*bloop*                                                                                                          

“Well, well, what do we have here, Pike?”

“Hello Detective, Agent. Fancy meeting you here,” cooing, you bat your eyelashes at the lens while angling your body like a present up for offer.

“You look like absolute sin, hunny.”

“Anything we can do for you, gorgeous?”

“I’m looking to get filled up, Detective,” you pout, trying to hide your smile as the two men each offer a low whistle in response.

“Such a dirty girl.”

“Sounds like she knows what she wants, Rockford.”

“Let’s give it to her then.”

You crawl to meet them at the edge of the bed with your ass pointed up, swaying seductively.  Wide-eyed and faux innocent, you climb Tim like a tree, appreciative that he stretches his arm out so the camera can capture the passion of your heady kiss.  Greedy for your man, you attack Detective Rockford’s mouth while your fingers working fervently to undo his pants and release his already leaking cock.  In the background, Marcus unbuttons his jeans and pushes down his bottoms, kicking them off, boxers and all; out of the corner of your eye you see his semi-hard length bobbing, ready for you - you let slip a throaty moan into Tim’s mouth at the delicious sight.

Reaching out, you take a cock in each hand, stroking both languidly as Tim leans back and pans the screen over to Marcus; the younger man smirks as he pulls you in by the neck, angling your face towards your phone so Tim can fully capture the roll of your eyes when Marcus starts kissing down your neck, zeroing in on that sweet spot behind your ear.

“Feel good, Shutterbug?”

“So good,” you whimper, the suck of the FBI agent’s mouth zinging straight between your legs.

“Time to get to work, baby.”

Pulling away from the younger man’s clean-shaven face, you slide your body backwards onto the bed and lay on your stomach, top half propped up on your elbows.  Peering up through your lashes, you’re still lazily pumping their dicks as the two strapping hulks stare back down at you, their twin expressions lustful and hungry.  Feeling so desired, powerful, you lick your lips and wink at the camera, prepared to do as your boyfriend says.

Faced with two of the most mouthwatering cocks you’ve ever seen, instinct has no choice but to take over as lust clouds your brain - you alternate between detective and agent, making sure either your mouth or hardworking hands is giving them each proper attention at all times.  Tim aims the video down at your efforts, recording every enthusiastic bob of your head, every sultry flick and swirl of your tongue, the girlish flourish with which you pop off their swollen heads; you play up to the camera: batting your eye lashes while licking slow, lingering stripes along the veins and ridges of their shafts, make loud and lewd slobbering noises with your warm mouth when their blunt tips hit the back of your throat, blowing spit bubbles as you purr your compliments – so big, so pretty.

The microphone picks up on the rumble of Tim’s chest whenever you hum happily around him; he follows with loving pets to your hair and is further rewarded with the sweetest, doe-eyed look of devotion from his girl - your eyes bright while your throat tightens around his girth.  Marcus, less practiced with the heaven of your mouth displays no such self-control; he grunts and groans like a feral animal, unabashed with his long string of exhalations as your lips stretch wide to accommodate his thick cock, loud with his gratitude for the eagerness with which you stuff yourself full of him.

“Goddamn, you look so hot taking us both, baby.”

“Best head I’ve ever had, pretty girl.”

“Such a perfect little cocksucker, isn’t she, Pike?”

“The best, buddy.  Look how turned on she’s getting just from sucking on dick.”

Marcus isn’t wrong; you’ve started grinding down on the bedspread, searching desperately for some friction, but your panties are too soaked through and slippery to find any catch.  You whimper, dejected, though the pouty shape of your lips is well suited for rubbing lengthwise over the thick cocks dangled tantalizingly before you; luckily, your detective knows your body better than you, looks out for your pleasure better than anyone. 

Smack.

Tim’s bear paw spanks one of your ass cheeks so hard, your yelp of surprise sucks Marcus so far down your throat you nearly choke.  Detective Rockford soothes it quickly with a tender caress of the reddening flesh, then dips his fingers past the cut of your lacy panties to find your core already dripping wet and waiting for his touch.  With a low growl of satisfaction, Tim slides his thick fingers through your folds, smirking at how easily you coat his digits; he tilts your phone to get a high angled view of your body squirming with pleasure when he rolls your clit under the rough pads of his fingers.

You pop off Marcus’ cock and sing your grateful praises, “Fuck, Tim!  Yes, yes!  Please I need more, you make me feel so good, baby.”

“Get on your knees, Shutterbug.  Let’s get you naked.”

Hurrying to obey, you rise on your knees so Tim can slide you drenched panties down your legs.  Marcus takes over where Tim left off; two of his firm fingers stroke your seam from behind in a worshipful pattern that has you gushing into the agent’s palm.  Meanwhile, your boyfriend expertly unhooks your bra and takes it off so that you’re now bare except for your garter – you blow him a sweet kiss through your phone screen for his help. 

Agent Pike looks over at the phone in his friend’s hand and you flit your gaze to the younger man as he continues the sweet torture of your cunt, touching you so perfectly yet leaving you still empty and needy for more.

Whining and moaning, impatient, you lay soft kitten licks to their slits and wiggle your ass lasciviously so the detective and the agent both know that you’re fully ready to be played with.  Slurping up and down Marcus’ cock while maintaining flirty eye contact with the camera, you feel Tim’s titan hand groping roughly at your chest, pulling and massaging your tits, rolling and teasing your nipples between his calloused fingers.  Closing your eyes in equal parts pleasure and gratitude, your entire body melts into Detective Rockford’s harsh handling.

He always knows exactly what you need.  Lightly cupping your face so you’ll open your eyes, Tim forces you to look right into the camera when he asks, “Do you need more, baby?”

A sweet peck to the tip of his angry head dabs your lips with glistening precum; you nod dumbly, all adoring of this hunk of a man and coo, “Yes, please, Detective.”

He squeezes your cheeks affectionately, “Roll over, Shutterbug.”

As always, you happily do as Tim says and roll onto your back, spreading yourself open to the covetous gaze of both law enforcement officers; head still at the end of the bed, your view is positively sinful: two hard, naked bodies tower over yours, making you feel ever so small and very much desired.  Unable to help yourself, you start touching your breasts with one hand while the other ventures further to glide easily through your arousal-soaked folds.  Tim grins a wolfish grin, slowly panning your phone down your naked body, zooming in on your wet fingers playing with the hood of your clit.

The men stare at your phone screen together, admiring the show until your hot little whimpers become a siren call neither of them can ignore.  Tim zooms out so that your blissful face comes into view, then reaches over your body, bobbing his leaking cock in your face; your eyes widen, spellbound, but just as you stick your tongue out for a taste, Detective Rockford grabs onto your legs.  Fingers digging into your calves, Tim’s strength sends a shockwave of pleasure straight to your cunt as he rotates you with one smooth sweep so you lay parallel to the edge of the bed.  “Tim!” you squeal, buzzing with excitement at this new position.

“Take good care of our friend from the FBI while I eat you out, okay, baby?”

It’s easy to acquiesce to your detective, his very air so authoritative and sure, it pleases you just to please him; humming your assent, you take Marcus’ rock-hard cock in hand and angle it towards your mouth, slapping it lightly against your cheek, lips, while Tim rounds the corner of the bed, camera still trained on your nude form.

The bed dips where Tim climbs on, your tank of a boyfriend parting your legs easily with one meaty hand and aiming the phone lens at your sopping wet core.

“You should see this, Pike.  She’s dripping like a faucet.”

“Can’t wait until it’s my turn for a taste.”

“She is the absolute sweetest,” murmurs Tim, filming himself as he lowers his mouth and presses a sweet kiss to your clit.  Sensitive, you arch, sighing at Tim’s expert touch, mouth dropping to form a placid o-shape into which you happily slide Marcus’ cock.  Detective Rockford captures a few more closeups of your pussy, spreading you open with two fingers and coating his tongue with fat licks of your honey before handing the phone to his friend.

Though distracted by the way your sweet mouth is blowing him, Marcus takes over the filming with aplomb, allowing your boyfriend to devote his full attention to your cunt; Tim dives in vigorously, face first and deep, sucking and slurping like a man possessed.

“Oh fffffhhh!” you moan, mouthful of the younger man’s cock – your entire frame bucks, trying to outrun the pleasure overtaking your body.  Tim laughs condescendingly straight into your pussy before plunging his nose and tongue even deeper, throwing a heavy arm across your stomach for good measure; Marcus presses a wide hand onto your chest to help pin you down - groping and grabbing at your naked tits, tugging and flicking your perked up nipples.

“Omigod, omigod, yes, yes, please, Marcus… Tim!!” you wail, dropping the agent’s heft from your mouth and into your hand so you can blindly chant the names of your lovers – gentlemen that they are, they each answer your call: Marcus angles the phone to focus on your glazed expression, purring praise about the warmth of your touch and the suck of your mouth as he caresses your face and thrusts into your fist; Tim mumbles garbled prayers straight into your core and the vibrations of his dirty exaltations fires the starting pistol below your belly and you writhe, raring to go.  To still you once more, your detective snaps the thigh bands of your garter against your sensitive skin and the sting of pain jolts you back to the present as intended; grateful, you card your fingers through Tim’s wiry locks, tugging affectionately as the pleasure he pulls from you threatens to soak his scruffy facial hair with a fresh wave of your slick.

“You’re so pretty, hunny.  You should see what I’m seeing,” breathes Marcus, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as you take his balls into your hot mouth and your soft palm continues to jerk him off.  He lowers the phone to hold in front of your face and the live view is so sexy you nearly come on the spot; the bright screen shows the plains of your naked body on the lower half of the viewfinder, your smooth skin dotting with sweat, and your supple tits being palmed and grabbed by Marcus’ oversized hand.  The upper portion of the screen displays the V of your legs being held open by Tim’s monster grip and at your pinnacle is the top half of your boyfriend’s handsome face, the lower half buried in your cunt; his salt and pepper curls bounce as he tongue fucks your drippy hole and nudges his strong nose against your clit, eyes blown wide and dark with lust until he notices you watching and makes eye contact with you through the camera.  His baby browns crinkle in mischief, winking once before he snaps your garter band again.

You throw your head back and howl, eyes squeezing shut at the smarting of your skin, then the wave of pleasure that follows to soothe it.  Hand still wrapped around your agent’s cock, you work it steadily, willing yourself to hold on as the tension winding in your lower half threatens to snap.  Cracking an eye open, you see via your phone that Tim is still watching you, the expression of his eyes piercing, focused – he forces his tongue deeper and grinds his face against your cunt.  You realize that this point-of-view is exactly what Marcus will see when he watches this video back after he’s gone home, and that Tim is putting on a show for his friend as much as he is you – this filthy thought is the last match strike needed and you come hard, gushing into Detective Rockford’s mouth.

Tim continues to lap at you gently through your high, while Marcus pulls the camera back up to capture the splendor of your afterglow, telling you repeatedly how beautiful you are as you suckle on his tip until your breathing calms and evens.  Face shiny with your arousal and eyes full of pride, Tim climbs over your body and kisses you passionately, transferring the sweetness of your taste from his tongue to yours.  He carefully cleans both your faces with the bedsheet before laying a more tender kiss to your waiting lips, one full of feeling and devotion; you whisper a soft Thank you against his pout and smile, admiring his muscular body as he climbs off the mattress to stand next to his friend again.

“What do you say, Pike? Ready to fuck my girl?”

“She did say she was looking to get filled up.”

The two men look plenty pleased with themselves as you gaze at them through your heavy-lidded eyes, dreamy expression a contrast to their lewd words; trusting them both completely, you absentmindedly play with your nipples while you wait for the two officers of the law to do with you what they will. 

Under your boyfriend’s watchful eye, Marcus passes your phone over and gets onto the bed - it’s his turn now to position your body to his liking; pulling your lower half closer so that you’re lying straight down the middle of the bed again, the FBI agent slots his impressive width between your legs.  Your head hangs slightly over the end of the bed, your view a smirking Tim leering down at you, mitt of a hand jerking his length lazily next to your pretty face while the other arm is cocked back so the camera can capture your shivering body, sandwiched between the men, all in one frame.

“Going to stuff two of your holes now, gorgeous.”

The slight quickening of your breath in anticipation is all the permission the two men need; Tim starts slowly feeding his meat down your throat just as Marcus pushes the blunt head of his cock into your heat.

“Fuck she’s tight, Rockford.”

“Baby, you need to relax that tight pussy for our friend, okay?”

Tim’s look of adoration and steadfast confidence in you always has a way of making you feel invincible; forcing yourself to breathe, you soon loosen your throat and the clench of your cunt so both men can impale you with more ease – as you mold around their hard cocks, pleasure trumps any discomfort and you relax further, sucking them each in deeper.

“Good girl.”

Once you’ve settled around him, Marcus waits, sweet and patient, for your go ahead before he begins thrusting in earnest, losing himself in the welcoming warmth of your tight, wet hole.  That first time the three of you fucked, Marcus’ touches had been more timid, his restraint admirable, but the way he’s rocking into you now is a hundred percent the man you’ve come to adore: honest and unpretentious, wonderfully sentimental; your heart balloons knowing that Agent Pike trusts you enough to unlock his passionate side and allow himself to be less temperate.  He’s safe with you and Tim, just as you know you are with him.

Marcus lets loose a string of curses and animalistic grunts as he pounds away, adding to the already loud and bawdy symphony of skin-on-skin slapping filling the hotel room.  You imagine what this filthy soundtrack might sound like played back when you and Tim revisit this video together and clench – Marcus’ strained groan of appreciation and the awe evident in the obsidian of his eyes have you fluttering around him.

“I love feeling you, hunny.”

“I love the way you feel inside, Marcus.  I love the way you both make me feel,” your voice sounds like it’s coming from somewhere far away; still spacey you turn your gaze to your generous boyfriend, who responds by lovingly tapping the swollen head of his cock against your plush lips and sliding himself back into your welcoming mouth.

In contrast to the punishing pace set by his friend, Tim saws himself in between your lips in an almost nonchalant manner, preferring to let Marcus’ hard thumping jostle you and do the work for him.  Instead, the detective focuses on filming your blissed out expression and the bounce of your pleasure-wracked body ricocheting between their hard cocks; occasionally, Tim reaches down to play with your breasts, your clit, or to spread you wider for the other man, setting you on fire with his precise touch and endless string of dirty praise:

“You’re taking our cocks so well, baby.”

“How does it feel, Shutterbug?  Does it feel as good as you look having a dick in your cunt and a dick down your throat?”

“Look at the mess you’re making of our friend, gorgeous.  You’re so perfect.”

“Love the sounds you make, baby.  Want you to get loud and we’ll give you everything you deserve, okay?”

Second orgasm rapidly building, you aim heart eyes at your boyfriend and emit needy and ruined sounds around his length, knowing that Detective Rockford will properly decode your broken signals; this steady and considerate man has never let you down and you’re positive he never will – sure enough, Tim flashes his own love-struck expression back and reaches down to swipe a fat thumb over your slippery clit.  The relief you feel is palpable, immediate; fluttering your lashes at the camera, you can only hope the love and gratitude flooding your chest shines through.

“She’s close again, Pike.  Can you feel her?”

“Her pussy is gripping me like a vice – fuck!”

“No better feeling in the world.”

“Do you want to come, pretty girl?” Marcus huffs, tone doting and eyes molten, enamored, hips still snapping with a near wild intensity.

Tim slips from your mouth as he steps back to get the wide angle shot of Agent Pike fucking his girlfriend.  “Yes, please,” you whinny at the loss of Tim’s cock while simultaneously begging Marcus’ for sweet release, “please, please, let me come, Agent.”

The younger man grabs the garter straps of your lingerie and pulls them like reins as he rides you even harder – your sweet wail as he pushes you to your limit music to the FBI agent’s ears.  He’s never beheld a more perfect sight: your luscious body at his mercy, being jolted dangerously close to the edge of the bed with every one of his ramming thrusts.  Lost in your own euphoria, you’re unaware of any such peril, and in truth, there is none – Marcus would never let you fall, never allow any harm to befall you; from the moment he was first allowed to lay a hand on you, he’s sworn to join ranks with his friend in protecting your sweetness, your heart, deliver to you every richly deserved pleasure you ask for.  Agent Pike scrawls these vows in his elegant hand over your puffy clit, crossing his Ts and dotting his Is, breaking you under his perfect penmanship. 

Fucking you gently through your climax, Marcus hovers over your body and soothes you with the calm of his air and the softness of his kisses.  Only when he’s satisfied that your legs have stopped quaking and you’re yourself enough does Marcus pull out; he grins back just as dopey to your mouthing of Thank you, Marcus.  Stretching your arms behind your head, you reach for Tim and at your summons, the older man returns to your side, handing his friend the still recording phone so he can gather you into his loving arms.

“You okay, Shutterbug?” Tim breathes into your hair, cuddling you close, protective.  You’re the luckiest girl in the world.  Melting against your detective’s hard chest, you feel a surge of tremendous affection and want for this glorious man and his never-ending indulgence.  You think back to how nervous you had been to first approach him with your dirty threesome fantasy, remembering that he hadn’t been sure but not only never judged you, but remained open for you, putting your pleasure first.  Fast forward to earlier this morning, so confident in Tim’s love and acceptance, you had been positively giddy to propose your idea of a sex tape to your detective.  During every dalliance with Marcus, your Tim has been generous, protective, trusting - he makes you feel so safe and prioritized, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to fully repay him for the way he spoils you.  That doesn’t mean you won’t try.

“I’m more than okay, thank you baby,” you purr, “just need my detective to fuck me.”

“Can’t ever deny you, gorgeous,” Tim beams, his smile full and warm, “Do you think you can stand for me?”

Nodding shyly, you let Tim help you off the bed and guide you towards the hotel room’s floor-to-ceiling window; leaning back into the safety of his embrace, you let him position you the way he wants, placing your two hands against the cool glass then kicking open your legs.  In your peripheral you see Marcus propping up your phone on the writing desk and angling the lens towards you and Tim, but you don’t have time to wonder about the agent’s cinematic vision because Tim is pushing down on your lower back so that you jut out your ass – hovering from behind with both hands palming your naked tits, Detective Rockford slides his cock home.

“Tiiiimmmmmmmm,” you sing, warm walls quickly adjusting to your man’s overwhelming size, the intrusion of his length always welcomed.  Tim snips lovingly at your earlobe, coarse facial hair rough against the side of your neck; he begins to thrust, arousal already dripping down your inner thighs as your pussy overflows with lust and want.  In the faint reflection of the glass, you catch sight of your matching expressions: lust blown, needy, debauched - and it turns you on even more.  Marcus approaches from your right admiring the same view; satisfied with his hands-free recording set-up, the younger man pulls you towards his clean-shaven face for a heated, hungry kiss before dropping to his knees.

“My turn to taste, pretty girl.” 

As Tim continues to drive into you from behind, Marcus latches on to your clit and sucks.  You practically sob at the dual sensation of being fucked and eaten out at the same time; dropping your head, you press your cheek against the window, heavy breathing and unrestrained whimpering fogging up the glass.

“Look down, baby,” commands Tim; you do as he says, shifting your gaze to the busy LA street below, “What would the people outside see if they looked up?  And if the people in the building across the street looked out their windows?”

Even though you’re on too high of a floor to be seen, and even if logically you know the hotel must have a reflective coating on its windows, you still clamp down hard at the idea of being watched while two handsome law enforcement officers pleasure your body so thoroughly.

“I think they would see the prettiest girl in LA getting her pussy destroyed.”

“Would they know I’m the second cock you’ve had in this hole today?”

“They would see what a greedy doll you are, needing two men at one time to satisfy you.”

You nod dumbly in agreement as Tim continues to rasp, breath hot and heavy in your ear, “Everyone would see how used you look, how wrecked your hot little body is and want to have piece of you for themselves.”

Always so turned on by Tim’s praising dirty talk, you now teeter on the edge of ecstasy from this hint of degradation from your ever respectful boyfriend – your cunt squeezes him tight, sure now that if he were to call you a slut or a whore, you would come on the spot.  A kink to try out, perhaps.

“But they can’t have you, can they, Shutterbug?”

You shake your head violently, whimpering, body electric.

“Because you’re ours.”

Marcus hums in agreement, licking and lapping at your throbbing nub as he jerks himself off at your feet.

And then, as if he too was fantasizing about what the future might hold, Tim wets his thumb with a raunchy pop of the mouth and presses the rough digit to your other hole.

“Marcus hasn’t had you here, has he?  What do you say, gorgeous?  Are you going let Agent Pike take your ass next time?”

He drives home the naughty implications of his words with an expert snap of his hips, plunging his cock deep into your weeping hole while rubbing tight circles around your sensitive ass hole.  At the growing pressure on your backdoor, you grind down against Marcus’ mouth and he meets you exactly where you need him, burrowing his face deeper into your heat, increasing the tempo at which he rolls and flicks his tongue over your sensitive pearl, hurtling you towards your edge.

“Yes, please, I want you both to fuck my ass!”  Filthy possibilities for your next group encounter flood your already overloaded mind and you come again without warning, sandwiched between your dominating detective and your worshiping agent.  Legs feeling like jelly, you rely on Tim to hold you upright as your body shudders from the force of your climax; he anchors your frame while continuing to fuck steadily into you from behind.  Marcus grins up at the both of you, face shiny and proud, and lays one last sweet kiss to your clit before he gets up to retrieve your phone, “Goddamn, you look beautiful when you come, hunny.”

Panting, cock drunk and delirious, you still have the wherewithal to remember that the two men have yet to come; with what remaining strength you have left, you press your palms flat against the glass and push back into Tim’s increasingly sloppy thrusts, arching your body and presenting a canvas to the men for when inspiration should strike.

“I’m close, baby,” rasps Tim, “Marcus is, too.”

Looking over your shoulder, you see the agent furiously pumping his cock and coo into the phone that he’s holding with his free hand, “Come on me, Detective.  Paint me like something you’d admire in a gallery, Agent.”

Marcus has only a split second to focus the camera on the smooth unsullied skin above your ass before he’s spilling spurts of his hot cum across the small of your back.  At his friend’s release, Tim pulls out; the loss of his heft causes you to sag, deflated, collapsing against the window and sighing the breathiest of sighs for the cool press of glass against your chest.  You hear Detective Rockford behind you stroking his length ferociously, the sound of his palm slapping, slick with your juices, sends shivers down your spine.  Further back, you see Agent Pike filming your boyfriend’s efforts – using his artistic eye to align the shot and centre Tim beating his dick and angling its pulsating tip over your body.

You know Tim is about to blow when he slams his free hand next to your head, so you purr loud enough for the camera, “Give me your cum, Detective!  Please, I need it!”  A short moment later you’re rewarded with the feel of warm milk shooting all over your ass, painting over the part of your body where Marcus recently marked you – the two men’s pooling liquid refreshing against the searing heat of your sweaty skin.

“Fuck – that’s so hot.”

“A real masterpiece, right, Pike?”

You wiggle your butt at their words of praise and Tim responds with another stinging snap of your thigh band that has you simpering pathetically; he huffs in pride before pulling the lace black belt over your hips and helping you step out of the naughty garment.

Marcus, still filming, gapes at the way the puddles of cum on your back ripple with your movements, and Tim, seeing that the obscene sight has mesmerized his friend, smirks,

“Should we paint her like the art we saw this morning?”

At the older man’s filthy suggestion, Marcus hands Tim your phone and dips two of his thick fingers into the big pot of white on your skin, scooping and swirling it all over your back, mixing and blending his seed with Tim’s.  Tim is less painter-like – he films his entire hand spreading and smearing the milky fluid down and over your ass cheeks until your entire backside is shiny with his and Marcus’ joint spend.  Kneeling, Tim slides his hand in between your peachy globes and spreads you open, giving him, Marcus and the camera a perfect view of your puckered hole. 

Fingers covered in cum, Tim slathers a generous amount over your fluttering rim in a soothing circular pattern, waiting for your tight muscles to relax before suggesting, with some crude satisfaction,

“Next time?”

Marcus dips the tip of his sticky middle finger into your unused hole and wiggles, chucking at the jump of your body from the intrusion; you moan the men’s names, too overstimulated to think.  Knowing when you’ve hit your limit, Marcus withdraws his hand and Tim lays a quick playful slap to your ass to let you know they’re done with their teasing.  The two men rise to their feet and crowd you again; Tim holds the phone high above your satisfied threesome to capture the final selfie shot.  Their cummy hands lovingly cup and sully your pretty face before the detective and the agent each take their turn laying one last appreciative kiss to your lips. 

“You did so good for us, baby.”

“You’re the ultimate dream girl, hunny.”

Perfectly supported by both men you take their thick fingers in your mouth, licking them each clean, giggling and proud at their twin looks of awe and adoration.  More satisfied and content than you’ve ever felt, you blow a final flirty kiss to the camera before Tim presses the stop button.

*Beep bloop*

---

After everyone has come down from your collective high and you’re snuggled up cozy and pliant in Tim’s arms, you hear Marcus go and turn on the shower.  A few moments later, your agent and your detective gently lead you to the bathroom where all three of you step into the spacious rainforest shower.

You’re still leaning against Tim, safe in his reliable hold, when the warm water starts to rain over your heads.  For a few quiet and contemplative minutes, the three of you allow the invigorating spray to run down your bodies, refreshing and breathing life back into each of you.  A new start.  No longer beholden to the primal lust that ran through your veins only a short while ago, your threesome stands together comfortably, secure, bonded by something even stronger: belonging.  The shower starts to run hot, perfect for relaxing your used and tired muscles, and before long, the glass stall traps steam like a sauna, making you even sleepier still.

“Do you think you can stand on your own, Shutterbug?” your Tim asks, voice caring and fond.

You smile and silently nod, still unsure of your own voice, as the men arrange themselves to bracket your free-standing body; Marcus then washes your hair from behind, while Tim soaps up your body with the hotel’s luxury wash from the front.  When Detective Rockford’s rough hands sweep over your swollen and abused pussy, you cannot help but whimper; Tim pulls back his hand sharply at the sad noise, worried eyes finding yours, big brown eyes overflowing with concern and contrition.  You reassure your considerate detective with a passion-filled kiss – yes, you’re sore but any discomfort felt is not only welcomed, but borne with pride; relieved, Tim reciprocates his relief with equal feeling.  Soon, you’re melting again into your detective’s embrace, lulled further into complacency by Marcus’ gentle massaging of your back and his own sweet kisses to your shoulders.

Once everyone is clean, the men dry and dress you in a fluffy hotel robe then bring you over to the king-sized bed Marcus so considerately ordered.  You’re already halfway asleep when they tuck you in under the covers; Tim lays a soft kiss to your hair and whispers that he’ll go home and fetch you some comfy clothes, but that Marcus will stay in the room with you.  You love how much he trusts you - and Marcus.  You love him.

“Come back to me safe, Detective Rockford,” you whisper, eyes already closed.

“Nothing could keep me from you, Shutterbug.  I love you,” he recites, his familiar words the last thing you hear before you fall into a deep, well-earned slumber.

---                 

Some time after night has fallen over the city, you stir to the delicious smell of warm food. Still wandering somewhere between dreamland and the waking world, you overhear a conversation that your semiconscious brain only partially comprehends.

“Sorry, that took me a while, Pike.  Had to stop by the precinct for a bit.”

“No problem, buddy – I’ve been working too, finished up on some conference stuff.  You made it just in time for room service.”

“And her?”

“Slept like an angel this whole time.”

“That’s our girl.”

“Our girl?” The emphasis of Marcus’ question is not lost on your dozy, only half-awake mind; the curiosity in the agent’s voice indicative that he, like you, had heard Tim’s possessive growl of ownership while balls deep in your cunt earlier, unsure if it had been a slip of the detective’s tongue, or if Tim had intentionally said ours instead of mine.

A meaningful pause fills the room; the same words that break the silence breaks the spell of your restful sleep – you can hear Tim smile, “Yeah, our girl.”

Tagging a few horndogs lovelies who have been so supportive on the previous parts and/or expressed an interest in this threesome - thank you for waiting for them!!

@just-ashlee @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @peepawmiller @daltoncharm

@lillaydee @iamladyp @thundermartini @guelyury @harriedandharassed

@sawymredfox @baronessvonglitter @tateypots @indiegirlunited @time-for-my-weekly-spanking

@kedsandtubesocks @kedsandtubesocks @inept-the-magnificent @kokoluwie @simpingforjoel

[baronessvonglitter]

council meeting

(Part 5 of “Office Hours)

Ted Garcia x f!reader | 1.7K | read on AO3

summary: Amid a busy day at City Hall, you and Ted can hardly keep away from each other.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Office relationship. Coworkers to lovers. Secret relationship. Sexual tension. Office sex. Semi-public sex. Fingering. Come eating. Unprotected piv. Dirty talk. Improper use of a tie. New character unlocked 👀 Reader is able bodied and wears skirt/high heels but is otherwise undescribed.

a/n: I'm super surprised I got this out so fast (fast for me anyway) with everything else I've been working on. I finally decided the direction I want this to go and I hope you'll enjoy it

TED MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

The following Monday you choose your outfit carefully – leather pencil skirt, stockings with garters, your favorite high heels and a silk blouse. Ted’s already in his office when you arrive, coffee in hand, tie sitting perfectly straight and tucked into his jacket, sleeves rolled to his forearms as he ponders something, his gaze directed out to the street.

“Morning,” you say sweetly. “I brought you a black coffee.”

On the outside nothing has changed, but really everything is different. In the past seventy-two hours you’d gone on a date with your boss, kissed him, had another date, and had your brains fucked out. You even stayed over Saturday night, only opting to finally leave Sunday evening, knowing if you stayed another night you wouldn’t get any sleep in his bed.

Ted thanks you for the coffee and you turn to go. “That skirt,” Ted mutters as you start to leave. “It’s a little distracting.”

“Should I go home and change?” you ask innocently.

“Don’t you dare,” he growls lowly, hands on your waist.

“Sir.. we have to go over the agenda before the meeting..” Your attempt at staying professional is at risk of fraying.

“Right,” he sighs, pulling himself away from you, collecting his sanity. “All right. Hit me with it.”

You list the major bullet points for the issues to be addressed that day– guest speakers and items that would be brought to the council’s attention. “More speakers against the data centers,” you continue, “zoning issues.. proposals for the new baseball field..”

It’s the longest Monday ever, especially as the two of you refrain from being too close, even behind closed doors. Neither of you completely trust yourselves not to give in. If you’re found out, any touch of scandal could hurt Ted’s chances at winning his reelection. Ted’s in meetings most of the day, so you eat lunch alone at the deli down the road.

You hope for some time alone with him before the meeting, but no such luck. The governor calls him at the last minute and Ted is on a call with her. You busy yourself at your desk with your own tasks, though in a small town like this, you have more free time than you had at your previous post.

Finally you head to the council chambers, the agenda tucked under your arm, Ted keeping pace at your side. You don’t even dare a glance sideways, knowing you’ll just be tempted to press him to the wall and have your way with him.

Ted walks in like he owns the room: calm, composed, an easy manner as he meets with and greets the council members. As everyone takes their seats you take yours at the end of the row. There’s no way to discreetly glance at Ted, to share his gaze and a knowing smile. But it’s better this way, more professional. And you’ve been professional long enough to keep up the ruse. During the meeting you surreptitiously eye him, admiring his poise, remembering the feel of his body against yours, the way he’d moved inside you, as if he’d done so a hundred times, how you’d come quicker than you ever had with anyone else..

“Mayor Garcia?” Councilwoman Reyes speaks up. You look up from your notes to see Ted, turning red, apparently having been caught watching you. A smile fights to stay on your face, so you busy yourself with the reading of the minutes from the previous meeting.

You keep a businesslike attitude as the meeting progresses, watching from the sidelines as speakers come to the podium and introduce new topics, some complaints and suggestions, and you watch as Ted masterfully puts everyone at ease. He defuses tension with a single sentence, shuts down conspiracy talk with cold facts. He nods at reasonable proposals, dismisses noise with quiet authority.

Fuck, you’re already dripping for him. You have been, at every council meeting you’ve been a part of. Only this time you’re going to do something about it.

Ted wraps the meeting with a firm but polite close. But he barely has time to gather his notes before Councilman Hayes steps in, shaking his hand, launching into a long-winded story about his grandson who got a scholarship for golf.

You linger nearby, organizing your notes, the face of composure, while your body burns for him. Come on, you think, just get rid of him.

Finally Ted excuses himself with a firm clap on Hayes’s shoulder. “Gotta run. Full schedule,” he lies smoothly. “We’ll catch up over barbecue,” he says before getting away, skirting past you. “My office, five minutes,” he murmurs. You give a miniscule nod, somehow managing not to hurry after him, pretending to look for something in your desk before going into the mayoral office.

He gets caught up again, Councilwoman Reyes wanting a word and when he finally reaches the confines of his office he finds you there, leaning against his desk.

“Are you wet for me?” he growls, crossing the room in just a few strides. “Or do I get the pleasure of getting you there?”

Your breath hitches. “Ted.. y-yes.. I am.”

“Good,” he growls, grabbing you by the hips and setting you down firmly on his desk. He drops to his knees between your thighs, hands sliding up your skirt. “You’ve been driving me insane all damn day,” he murmurs, his fingers finding the soaked lace covering your pussy. “Look at this..” He slides two fingers through your folds, pushing the material of your panties to the side. “Were you thinking about me during that meeting?” His thumb swipes purposefully over your clit.

“Ted!” you gasp. “Fuck.. yes.. you know I was..”

“Yeah? Did you imagine me fucking you when the meeting was over?” He removes his fingers, your sweet and stringy arousal stretching between his digits. “Know what I was thinking about?” He pushes in again, three fingers this time. “Fucking you over my desk.”

“Baby!” you gasp softly. “What are you doing?” You cast a quick glance at the door. You know it’s locked, but the fact that you’re doing this while city business is still going on all around you is giving a new kind of danger thrill.

“I’m rewarding you,” he says, thick digits pressing in deep, your pretty pussy stretching out around him, your walls pulsing greedily. He thrusts his hand deep, angling your hips up, your heels on the edge of his desk so he can get better access to you. His thumb keeps swiping over your throbbing clit, memorizing the right pressure and right pattern that makes you quake. Just when you’re on the brink he removes his fingers, licking up your juices.

“Turn around,” he growls.

Your heart pounds, core pulses in anticipation as you brace yourself against Ted’s desk. He undoes his belt and presses you down, a big hand between your shoulder blades. You know better than to move while he pulls his pants down just enough, freeing himself from his briefs before lining up, hot and thick, pushing inside in one slow, deep stroke. “Now move that ass for me,” he mutters. You stifle your cry as he bottoms out, stuffing you full. Breath hitching, you slowly fuck yourself on him

“Look at you,” he whispers, “take me like you were made for it.” His grip on your hips tightens as he guides your pace. “Think you can be quiet with me buried inside this tight little pussy?”

You shiver, clenching around him as he moves inside you, the sloppy sound of him thrusting into your wet channel so lewd to your ears, especially as you’re desperately trying to be quiet within the walls of his office. “Ted..” you whimper, a small cry escaping your lips.

He shifts your hips up, slanting them just so that he slides in deep, reaching between you and using his thumbs on your inner thighs to help stretch you out. “We need those pretty lips of yours to be silent,” he grunts, stopping just long enough to remove his tie. “Open,” he commands, and slips the silky material past your lips, effectively shutting you up. “That’s better,” he murmurs, picking up the pace once more. His hips snap harder, every thrust driving you forward. His desk trembles, papers get shuffled around, framed photos get knocked over. You both should be more careful. You both aren’t thinking. You whimper, keening beneath him. Sure, you can’t be heard, but if anyone were to listen they’d hear the unmistakable sound of flesh pounding into flesh.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” Ted mutters, feeling you clench around him. “You love this, don’t you, naughty girl? I’m not stopping until you come all over me.”

You moan his name but the tie muffles it as you come not once, but twice, drenching him, your legs trembling as you hold yourself up against the desk. Ted follows after, flooding your cunt with his spend, filling you up with every last drop stored in him. At last his grip eases on you, helping you stand but keeping you close to him.

“That was..” you pant, “Jesus, Ted!”

He kisses the back of your neck, muffling a breathless laugh. “We needed that.”

Your phone goes off – an alarm tied to Ted’s schedule. You quickly silence it and try to get cleaned up as quickly as possible. “The county liaison should be here in fifteen minutes for your meeting,” you remind him, stealing a quick kiss as he zips up his pants. You fix the scattered mess on his desk, righting everything in perfect order once again. And as he heads into his restroom to get cleaned up you slip outside to your desk, undetected.

Or so you think.

“Good mornin’ Miss Secretary,” you hear as you set your things down. You know that voice, you’ve heard him at several city gatherings, and you’ve never had a genuine smile for the man. Something about him is just off.

“How can I help you today, Sheriff Cross?” you ask as politely as you can without grinding your teeth.

He’s wearing that contemptuous smile, the one that hides a hostile attitude. You’ve never liked him from the moment you met him.

“Well, sweetheart,” he starts, and you recoil at the term of endearment. “I’m here to turn in my paperwork to run for the office of Mayor of Eddington.”

dividers by @/saradika 👑

taglist: @sawymredfox | @time-for-my-weekly-spanking | @crumbs-from-the-algonquin | @myownwholewildworld | @berryispunk | @ace-turned-confused | @katw474 | @aurorawritestoescape | @madpanda75 | @whoaitspascal87 | @everybodylovedcontractors | @milla-frenchy (anyone wanting on or off the ride, please let me know!)

[mcthsman]

*HONEY BABY: a joel miller x reader story.

Dating your boss had never been in the cards for you until Joel Miller; ever the gentleman, he decides to court and take things slow, not wanting to turn your relationship into even more of an hr nightmare than it already is. You don't want to wait— You want him, right now, no more waiting. Your TikTok feed gives you the perfect idea of how to get his resolve to crumble.

click here to join the TAGLIST. / click here for my MAIN MASTERLIST.

warnings: established relationship, modern!au/no outbreak, reader's age is not specified but joel is mid/late 30s, reader is afab and goes by she/her, boss/employee relationship, naughty polaroids, teasing, panty stealing, pwp, tommy is a menace, no use of y/n, smut (mutual masturbation, phone sex, fingering, dirty talk, edging, semi-public sex).

rating: 18+.

word count: 4.2k.

fox says: hi friends, thank you for reading! this is just something smutty that i wrote for @pedroscurls ppcu writing challenge! my prompt was joel miller + "why are you laughing? this is a very serious situation.". i was supposed to post this by may 31st but uhhhh yeah that didn't happen sorry lol pics are for aesthetics only and there is absolutely no description of reader! as always, pls let me know how we feel!

also available on archiveofourown.

Joel is different from every other relationship you’ve ever had. First and foremost, he is your boss: You’re working as a secretary — administrative assistant, he always says, as if that is any more imposing. — at the small contracting company he owns with his younger brother and because your relationship is an HR nightmare — or it would be, if the Miller Brothers Contracting was big enough of a company to have an HR —, Joel has decided to “take things slow”. He says it’s because he wants you to be comfortable with him and not feel pressured into the physical side of things but you think it might be because he’s an overworked thirty-something year old single father with way too many responsibilities that hasn’t gotten laid in more years than you’ve been legal enough to drink. 

So, after way too many months of hand holding and falling asleep together on your couch with all of your clothes on, you decide to take matters into your own hands. 

Joel is a gentleman, yes, but at the end of the day he is, in fact, just a man. 

You first get the idea from TikTok. You run into the trendy video about two months into the tentative relationship you have with Joel while doomscrolling one late night when he is stuck at work and you find that you can’t sleep until you know he’s home safe. The video is of a young bride that, on her wedding day, has her maid of honor hand deliver several naughty polaroids to the groom and record his reaction to them. You’re not even close to being married, but you giggle at the flustered look on the groom’s face while he tries to pretend he’s not affected by the surprise and the idea stays in your brain, simmering and festering and gaining ground. 

You log onto your Amazon account and you buy the stupidly expensive Polaroid camera just as Joel checks in, texting to let you know he’s home safe and sound.

The first photo is not that risqué. You’re in the tub, entire body covered by foam and bubbles and the only part of you that is visible is your legs, propped up on the corner of your clawfoot tub, the warm gold lighting from the candles reflecting on the wet glimmer of your skin. It takes you five tries to get the picture the way you want it to, the right bending of your knees and the right prop of your red-coated toes. 

You leave it on the dashboard of his truck the next day while he’s distracted filling up the tank, hoping he’ll notice it before Tommy does. Your phone rings ten minutes after he leaves to oversee some field work on the other side of town but you don’t answer— Instead you just send him a kissy face emoji when he takes a picture of the Polaroid and sends it to you with about seven interrogation marks. 

You escalate a little with the next one, a mirror selfie from your bedroom, the clunky camera covering your face, your nightgown being the focus: It’s deep burgundy, silky and flimsy and the hem ends at the halfway point of your thighs; you draw a little heart on the white strip at the bottom and then slips it on his coat pocket two days later. He catches you red-handed, and stares at it for a long moment before he leans in, his big hand squeezing your hip. 

“You look beautiful in red.” Joel whispers before he leaves for the night, and although that is the only comment he makes, the way his eyes rake through your body before the door closes leaves you tingling. 

You don’t take any pictures for the rest of the week, feeling stressed and bloated and frazzled from the overwhelming surge of deck renovations that comes in with the beginning of summer and every single client demanding a magic overnight build or to be bumped up on the waiting list or just being generally rude because they think they’re allowed to. Joel listens in silence as you complain about it, his lips pressed to your knuckles, warm eyes on your face, letting you vent until your throat is raw before he decides to drive for a late night dinner at your favorite food chain. 

You see the nightgown Polaroid inside his wallet as he pulls out his card to pay for the meal and that alone fixes all of your worries— The curly fries help, too.

The next photo is not exactly of you, but you like it anyway— You take it in your bathroom, a pair of see-through panties hanging over the round make-up mirror on the counter. The reflection is fogged from the too-hot shower you just came out of and it helps blur your body in the mirror: Just the foggy curve of your naked waist, with you angling your body just enough to keep most of it out of the frame. Joel doesn’t mention the picture but, the next time he leaves your house, you see the soft mint green of fabric poking from his backpocket. 

‘Did you steal my underwear?’ You text him later in the evening as your body thrums with desire and you can’t properly fall asleep. 

Joel takes a long time to reply and, when he does, it’s with a picture of his own: Your underwear on his nightstand, the flimsy fabric stained with thick ropes of cum. 

‘You’re not the only one that can use a camera’ he texts you right after the photo but you’re too busy with your hand between your legs to reply.

When Joel brings up a trip to a lakeside cabin over a three day weekend that Tommy is free to babysit, you say yes before you can even think it through— You make a joke about checking in with your boss for a PTO request and, cheekily, he tells you that there’s a lot of ways for you to earn as many days off as you’d like. Joel has never made a dirty joke regarding work before, has always been very explicit and firm when it comes to letting you know that your relationship would never affect your workplace and it makes you wonder just how much of his selfcontrol you’ve managed to chip away with your little photos.

You take the most explicit one just two days before the trip, your hand stuffed inside your underwear as you lay in bed, legs spread open; you’re in nothing but red satin panties and a pair of latex thigh high boots that a friend gave you for your birthday and you never found the courage to wear out in public. The picture doesn’t show anything above your navel, but you take the time to spread body glitter all over every bit of skin that is on display; there’s no way anyone can even tell it’s you, but you know Joel will recognize the gold bracelet he gave you when you had first started going out.

‘Thinking of you’, you write on the bottom, slipping it inside his wallet during a lunch break and making a quick exit before he can even consider looking inside, too embarrassed to see his reaction in public. 

Joel calls you later that evening, and this time, you pick it up.

“You’re killin’ me.” He groans as a greeting and you giggle, phone pressed to your ear, your face burning so much you think it might explode. “Just killin’ me, sweetheart.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Joel.” 

“Sure you don’t, you lil’ minx.” 

You giggle again, your fingers toying with the hem of your sleep shirt. “Did you like it?” 

“Yes.” He answers immediately. “Fuck, yes.”

You lick your lips, thinking back to the only photo he sent you. “Do you… Do you touch yourself to them?”

Joel hesitates just for a moment, enough that you know he’s considering lying. 

“Joel,” You whine, both a warning and a plea. 

“I did. I do. The one with the nightgown— That’s my favorite.” His breathing is shallow, his voice low and rough enough to make your body tingle. “Is that what you’re wearin’ to bed at the cabin?”

“Not really.” You answer, and it’s hard to hold back the grin. “I was thinking more like that lipstick you like and nothing else.”

Joel groans into the phone, the rumbling noise making your insides shake. 

“You have no idea what you’re doin’ to me.” He says, the Texan accent you love so much growing thicker. 

“Tell me.” You say before you can think it over, the tip of your fingers brushing against the hem of your sleep shirt. “Tell me what I do to you, Joel.”

“I’m rock hard right now, babygirl.” Joel says, and the picture it paints makes heat pool between your legs. “Had to jerk off twice at work today ‘cause I opened my wallet at lunch and saw ‘em pretty legs. Keep thinkin’ about what they’d look like spread open f’me.” 

“They’re spread open for you right now.” You follow through with it, your knees falling to the sides. Your hand teases the edge of your underwear but your voice quivers with a hint of shyness— You’ve never done this before with anyone, but the pictures and the thoughts of your upcoming trip  have you so worked up that you don’t even feel guilty for it. 

“Can you touch that lil’ clit f’me?” He asks and you can hear that there is more to it than just a request. It’s Joel’s way of getting you to consent, the way he can make sure you’re comfortable with finally crossing the line. 

“Yes.” You breathe out, your hand sneaking inside your underwear. You moan a little louder than you would’ve if you were by yourself, wanting to give Joel a little bit of a show. 

“Put me on speaker.” Joel orders. “Wanna hear how messy she gets for me.” 

Joel has always been bossy; with you, with his brother, with the men that work for him. He’s not overbearing or rude, just stern enough to make you comply without thinking, trusting that he knows what he is doing and that he’ll take the reins of the consequences if needed. So you do as he tells you, fumbling with your phone for a second and letting it fall on the bed near your hip. Your fingers dip lower, collecting your wetness before bringing it back to your clit; the modest cotton underwear you’re wearing dampens the sound a little so you hastily pull it off, the piece of clothing remaining stuck to one of your ankles as you run tight circles over your clit. 

“Feels so good, Joel.” You say, so wet that the sound reverberates through the room. “Wish you were here. Wish you were the one touching me.” 

“I will.” He says, his breathing labored. You can hear Joel spit before a rhythmic slicked sound takes over the speakers. “Two days, babygirl. Just two more days and then I’ll fuck you so good you won’t want me to ever stop.” 

You moan, a high pitched little sound that escapes your lips when your fingers touch a particularly sensitive spot at the very edge of your clit and the wet sound coming from your phone fastens. You picture Joel, sitting in his bed, his hand furiously rubbing at his hard cock. 

“I can hear you.” You say, your lips wobbling into a smile. You slide your hand a little lower, pushing your middle finger inside; the stretch it’s not enough, it’s not him, but it’s better than nothing. “You’re touching yourself too, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Joel groans, and you try to focus on the way he switches rhythms, going from fast to slow and then picking up speed again. “He can’t wait to meet you. Been cravin’ that sweet little pussy since the day we met.” 

You whine, slipping a second finger inside of yourself, working your pussy open with one hand as you clumsily thumber at your clit with the other. “Fuck, Joel, you can’t say shit like that—” 

“No, baby?” He coos, his voice taunting and breathless at the same time. “You don’t want to hear about how my cock’s been droolin’ whenever I think about you? When you show up to work in those jeans, perkin’ your tight lil’ ass at me? Bendin’ over my desk like a minx?” 

Your fingers speed up at his words, a loud keen of Joel’s name escaping your lips as you come, your breathing fast and helpless as you work yourself through your orgasm. Joel groans on the other side of the phone, a sound low and guttural and long enough to know he’s also coming. You pull your hand away from your opening but you don’t stop the slow circles on your clit, Joel’s heavy breathing almost covering up the wet sounds of your fingers. Almost. 

“Fuck, you’re still goin’, babygirl?” 

“Yeah,” you whine, eyes closed as you focus on the feeling— Slower this time, more intentional, taking your time. “I just need you so bad.”

Joel cusses under his breath, so low you almost miss it. “Talk to me, baby.” He pleads, his voice rougher than it’d been before. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” 

“I—” You hesitate, licking your lips, unsure of just how much you can say before you scare him off. But you’re still so turned on, so wet and hot, so you just close your eyes and picture him there with you, the words leaving your mouth before you can think them over: “I want you to fuck me from behind, pushing me down on the mattress, your big— fuck, your big bicep wrapped around my neck.” 

You’re just a little ashamed at your own words but, to his credit, Joel doesn’t skip a beat. 

“Yeah? My sweet lil’ baby wants me to rough her up a lil’?”

“Yes.” You breathe out, your fingers slowly picking up the pace; you can see it clearly behind your closed eyelids: you, laying on your stomach, one hand grabbing the sheets, the other clutching Joel’s hair. The weight of his big body pressing down against you, his stomach slotted into the small of your back, that thick arm of his wrapped around your throat, pulling you backwards and holding you hostage all the same. 

You come just like that, legs sprawled on your bed while Joel eggs you on over the phone, tiny little black spots clouding your vision.

At first, the pictures had been just to tease him; they made you feel good about yourself, sure, and his reactions too, but it was meant to be just something to get Joel to break. And now that he has, you don’t stop. 

Because teasing him becomes fun. 

Friday morning, the day of the trip, Joel holds a meeting— It’s just a check in he does weekly with his crew, setting new goals for the coming week and handling any setbacks or complaining from the guys; it’s the most formal Joel gets as a boss, which means that he’s leaning against the table next to the coffee machine when he speaks, hands shoved in his pockets, talking gruff and fast before he lets the workers begin their day. 

Your heels clack when you walk into the container that is being used as headquarters on this particular job, the yellow hardhat hanging from the crook of your elbow— Joel stops halfway through a sentence, clearly not expecting you here, but you simply cross the room with a smile and your iPad in hands. 

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, Mr. Miller, but I need your help for a moment.” You turn the iPad, that had been clutched tight to your chest, so only he can see the screen— There, nestled in the corner and tucked against your thumb, is a polaroid.

It’s a picture of the wheel of Joel’s truck, a flimsy piece of powder blue hanging from the rearview mirror— On the mirror itself there is only the partial reflection of your face, your lips plump and glossy shining next to the reflection of the Polaroid camera itself. It’s a tame one despite the panties hanging from the mirror but you can see the way Joel’s body shifts, how he’s suddenly far too aware that he’s staring at your underwear in a room full of men. 

“When’s— When’s this from?”

“Few minutes ago.” You answer, keeping your voice light and professional. “It’s still wet.” 

“What’s still wet?” The question comes from Tommy, who is leaning too far away to see the iPad but you figure he knows his brother’s face well enough to make a good guess. 

“The cement.” You say, your grin matching Tommy’s. “Someone poured a load of concrete in the wrong place.”

Tommy’s eyes bounce between you and Joel, his shit-eating grin widening when Joel carefully plucks the polaroid from the iPad and shoves it into his back pocket as casually as he can. 

“I’ll deal with that later.” Joel says, clearing his throat. His face is impassive, professional, but his eyes burn when they turn to you. “Now, as I was sayin’ —”

“That’s okay, take your time.” You interrupt him, an innocent smile on your lips. “Maybe I can get Tommy or someone else to help me before it dries.” 

“No.” Joel barks before Tommy can even take a breath to answer, so hard and fast even some of the workers snap to attention. “Go sit in my car, I’ll deal with that as soon as I can.”

You hold his gaze. 

“Yes, sir.” 

The passenger side door yanks open and you yelp, hands clutching your chest when Joel’s head pops in. 

“Jesus fuck, Joel, are you trying to kill me?”

“No. Are you?” He asks, frowning when he pulls the polaroid from his pocket. “In front of my crew? Really?” 

You giggle. He sounds angry, yes, but not too angry— Not to the point where you’d consider apologizing. “It was urgent, Joel.” 

Joel wraps a hand around your ankle, pulling so you slide across the seat, your legs dangling off of the truck. 

“Urgent.” He mutters, disdain dripping from a single word. Joel raises his head ever-so-slightly, making sure there is no one around before he ducks in for a kiss. Your hands wrap around his shoulders, fingers digging into the hair on the nape of his neck; Joel’s been letting his hair grow out since you’ve started dating, his curls becoming more prominent when you started forcing him to properly care for them. 

“Had me rock hard in the middle of a meeting. All my men in the fuckin’ room.”

You giggle again, smiling against his lips and Joel pulls back at that, pinching your thigh— Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to have you swallowing down your laughter. 

“Do you think any of them noticed?” You ask, biting down on your bottom lip to hide the smile threatening to come through. 

“Tommy sure as shit did.” Joel shakes his head. “Goddamn it, woman, I ain’t gon’ hear the last of this.”

“You should’ve seen your face.” You say, shoulders shaking with laughter. “I thought you were going to pop that vein on your forehead.”

“I was poppin’ somethin’, alright.” As much as he tries to be stern, you can see his lips fighting a smile. “Why are you laughin’? This is a very serious situation. Do you have any idea what it was like finishin’ that meeting when all I could think about was bendin’ you over the hood of my truck?” 

“There’s still time for you to bend me over the hood.” You tease, legs spreading just a little more. “My underwear’s still off. Won’t be for long, though. I have to go back to work and my boss—”

Joel’s hands drift higher, underneath your skirt, and you lose momentum with your words, stuttering an end to a sentence that wasn’t finished yet. He notices, of course, a lazy smirk stretching underneath his mustache. “What’chu were sayin’ about your boss?”

“He’s a real stickler for the rules.” You say, goosebumps erupting on your skin when Joel’s hands climb higher and higher. “Never lets me have any fun.”

“Oh, I think you’ve had enough fun.” He hums when his fingers find your bare core. Joel is struggling to keep his composure, you can tell by the way his shoulders stiffen when he slides his middle finger over your slit, his other hand gripping your thigh just a little harsher. “So fuckin’ wet. Did you touch yourself?”

“Nope.” You say with a demure shake of your head; he raises an eyebrow, unbelieving, but you simply offer him a toothy grin. “Got like this just from thinking about you.” 

Joel’s mouth crashes onto yours. The finger ghosting over your entrance pushes in with a little more intent, collecting your slick and bringing it up to your clit; it makes you gasp against Joel’s lips, your hands digging into his shoulders to ground yourself. He touches you slowly but firmly, reverently almost as the pads of his fingers circle your clit.

“Such a naughty lil’ thing.” Joel mumbles against your lips. “Teasin’ me like that. Could barely speak, thinkin’ about this wet pussy gettin’ off on my truck.”

Your hands slide from his shoulders to his chest, fingers digging into the hard panes of his torso before settling on Joel’s belt buckle. He mouths at your jawline, tilting your head back with his nose as he trails down your neck. You’re more than a little confused when Joel pulls his hand from your clit, pushing your hands away from his jeans. 

“Hands behind your back.” He tells you, pupils blown wide as he waits for you to obey. “You don’t get to touch me.”

“All the fun and none of the work?” You ask, giggling to yourself as you adjust your body in the position he’s asking for, leaning your weight back on both of your hands. “I don’t think you’re very good at the punishing thing.” 

The smirk Joel gives you makes your thighs tremble. He doesn’t answer, just pushing your thighs further apart and your skirt high up your waist, exposing you to him. Joel runs his fingers down your cunt, collecting the wetness seeping out of you before smearing it all over your clit in wide, lazy circles. You try to push your hips up, trying to get more friction out of it but Joel just pushes you down with his free hand, his weight hefty on top of your hip. 

“Hold still.” He barks, raising his head just once to make sure the parking lot is still empty before he resumes his movements. 

It’s torture. Joel moves his fingers for himself, learning the right pressure and speed that has you keening before he switches directions, plunging a finger then two inside of you before pulling both of them out entirely, flicking and pinching your clit until you have tears behind your eyes.

“Joel, please.” You say, out of breath, holding back a sound that is both a sob and a growl. “Please, just let me come.” 

He hums, slipping two fingers inside of you, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit. Joel stops moving then, pressing down onto your clit, two thick fingers buried inside. 

“Not sure you deserve it, baby. You’ve been so bad to me.”

“I’m sorry.” The words come out of your mouth almost instantly, even though you don’t really mean it. “I’m so sorry, Joel. I thought we were just having fun! I didn’t— Fuck, please. It wasn’t that serious—” He hesitates for a moment longer, and you barrel through, still talking, still trying to figure out what exactly he wants to hear from you. “Please, honey, I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you like that— I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good.”

That little sentence seems to be the golden one. Joel pulls his middle and ring finger almost entirely out before plunging them back in, crooking them upwards as his thumb flicks over your clit; you’re so overstimulated, so past the point of fully conscious that you barely notice the way your body locks when you come, one hand digging into the leather seat while the other flies to Joel’s hair, pulling him close when your spine arches, your mouth finding his in the middle of your high strung whines. 

His fingers pump in and out of you until your legs are shaking, your wetness sliding down your ass all the way to the seat. Your tongue laps against his, the kiss lazy but no less heated; you only pull back when you’re completely out of breath, a smile tugging at your kiss-bruised lips. 

“You really are terrible at doling out punishment.” You giggle, squirming away when Joel tries to pinch your ribs. But he can’t even pretend to be annoyed anymore, face flushed and smiley when he looks at you. 

“Don’t worry, baby.” Joel presses a kiss to your lips, tugging your skirt down. “I’ll spank you raw as soon as we’re alone.”

“Promises promises, Joel Miller.”

taglist: @ptolemaea444 @time-for-my-weekly-spanking @shadowqueen2024 @daniel-bruhhl @ohtiramisuu @honey-moon-13 @pearlessance @mytearsricochetm @taniamiller @pedroncigarettes @clocksonthewall79  @speaktothehandpeasants @msboblikestoread @h-the-comet @goodvibesonly421 @iloved1lfs0 @anqieluv @ess-evo @rosharanfiction @cozymochaa @hopecomesbacktolife @madmelz @peepawmiller @isabellaboo2025 @that-antler-queen @sprigsofhazel @desuidesu @inept-the-magnificent @ivoryandflame @loveday1219 @goonersquad101 @pedrofan @mossunderthenightsky @vanishintoyoubby @ilovetoomanymen @texasafterdark @menshipsandthesea @stormseyer @spock1988 @mslove @unexpectedjourney00 @nutbutterjellie @gunnersaurusrex @johnssherlock221 @cowgirlcosplay @dissentientss @peachiestevie @chaoticpaintsplatter @allissah @canonisoptional @xoxoloverb @baronessvonglitter @franche06 @artsymaddie @jeonzll @infiremejoon

[reedispunk]

Sweet Escape

summary: One week; that's all you need to survive without succumbing to the suffocating temptation of the wellness retreat's most unlikely client, Joel Miller.

tags: 18+ MDNI. No outbreak, age gap (50s, 20s), grumpy joel, soft Joel? fluff, smut, p in v, oral sex (m&f receiving), cum eating, finger sucking, teasing, dirty talk, language

a/n: would Joel ever go to a wellness retreat? Hell no. Did I have too much fun imagining it anyway? Absolutely.

wc: ~10.8k (got a little carried away)

Day 1

It was the excessive noise that drew your attention back to the door during the downward dog. Maybe you were looking at the man upside down with your head between your legs, but boy was he something to look at. 

You’d spotted him first at the airport; he was the tall, handsome gentleman who’d helped you lift your extremely heavy case off the baggage carousel with a kind, warm smile. 

“Jesus, how long ya staying for?” He asked, laughing at how the suitcase was almost as big as you. You don’t remember exactly how you responded; you just remember the embarrassment you felt when you offered up a few nonsensical words as your face turned an unhelpful shade of red.

Still, you couldn’t help it; his eyes were staring into yours like he could see right into your brain and know just how fucking hot you thought he was. But it would be okay; you doubted a man like him would be going to a wellness retreat like this, so you tried to forget about the whole awkward encounter. 

“What the fuck?” The man mutters as he takes in the sight of the entire room of people stretched over in front of him.

“Sir, may I remind you that this is the silent yoga class, no talking,” the instructor scolds him. 

“Shit. Sorry, I’ll just go-“

“What’s your name?” 

The man stands there like a deer in the headlights, not saying a word. 

“Your name?” The instructor repeats impatiently. 

“Oh, you said not talk.”

The instructor rolls his eyes. “Well?”

“Uhh Joel. Joel miller.”

“Well, Joel Miller, you’re here now, and seeing as though you’ve already disrupted us, you may as well take that spot over there at the back.” 

Brilliant, he’s heading for the empty spot right next to you. 

As you move into the next pose, you keep your head down, praying he doesn’t look over and see it’s you from the airport. When his boots clonk loudly along the floor, the instructor sighs heavily, letting the entire room know of his frustration. “Shoes!”

He bends down just beside you to remove the offending item, grunting as he does. “Jesus Christ, what’s this guy’s problem? Sarah ain’t gonna hear the last of this.” 

Out the corner of your eye, you look over to watch him, just as his eyes flick up to meet yours. Fuck. He gives you that same smile he gave you at the airport; he remembers you. You stand there, stretched out before him, and he makes no effort to hide the way his eyes take in your form. 

When you move into the next pose, he finally stops staring at you and attempts to replicate the same position. For a while, he really does try, and the quiet, semi-erotic groans he releases each time he stretches his body into shapes it’s probably never been into before, stir something deep within you. But when the instructor guides the room into the camel pose and a painful-sounding crack of bones comes from the man next to you, he calls it. 

“Fuck this.” He sighs, dropping down with a thud to sit with his back against the window just next to his mat. “This guy is tryna kill me.” 

You glance his way, trying not to laugh at his amusing comment and he smiles back at you. 

For the rest of the time, he sits there, thighs parted, his soft pants as he recovers clouding your thoughts as he watches your every move. If it were any other man, you’d probably be creeped out, repulsed at the idea of a full-grown adult you don’t know ogling your body like this, but there’s something about the way he doesn’t seem to give a shit that kinda turns you on. 

That afternoon, you're sipping a strange-tasting, strictly non-alcoholic juice at the outdoor bar, thinking about him. In truth, you haven’t stopped thinking about him for a second.

A voice comes from behind you. It’s him. “May I sit?”

“Sure.”

In the early evening light, his face is even more gorgeous: deep hazel eyes that shine in the sun, soft, fluffy brown curls that call to be touched, and a jawline so sharp you wish you could reach up to trace it. He’s probably twice your age and seems like he’s frustrated with the world, but still there’s something about him that intrigues you.

“Finally, something I can get behind in this place.” He nods the bartender over to him, who places a colorful drink not too dissimilar from yours in front of him. He scowls. 

“It’s fruit smoothies only, I’m afraid.” You say, amused.  

“Ya serious?” 

“Sadly yes.” 

“Jesus Christ.” He lifts the glass and takes a sip, his tongue darting out to lick his top lip clean, making your tummy flip. He winces in disgust at the sweet taste, and it makes you laugh. “Find that funny, huh?” 

“A little.” 

He reaches down into his backpack, taking out a small flask. Without hesitation, he pours a clear liquid into his smoothie before looking at you, offering you some too.

“Brad wouldn’t be too happy about this.” You joke, watching him pour the alcohol into your drink.

“Who the hell’s Brad?”

“The instructor, from this morning.”

“Shit, ya think I give a damn about what that guy thinks? what is he? Like 19?”

“25.”

He frowns at you.

“Sorry,” you sigh. “My friend made me read everything in the brochure before we came here. She said it would help get the most out of the experience if we knew what we were getting ourselves into.”

He scoffs. “who’s your friend?” 

You look back over your shoulder to the loud group in the corner. “The pretty one over there who looks like she’s having the time of her life.” 

“Ah.” He doesn’t seem to care, turning his attention right back to you, holding out his hand. “Well, I’m Joel. Joel Miller.” 

“Nice to meet you again, Joel.” You take his large hand in yours, introducing yourself too. 

“So ya like it here?”

“Hell no. Just being a supportive friend. Kate split with her boyfriend a month back and decided this was what she needed to help her get over him.”

He chuckles. “Right.”

“So how come you’re here? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself.” 

He takes another sip before looking at you again. “I don’t know about that; things just got a little more interesting after bumping into you once again.”

You blush, trying not to let the reaction between your thighs show on your face. 

“My daughter said this would be good for me. She said it would be a good way to destress from work. But after that class this mornin’, I’m not sure that’s possible. Anyway, she shoulda been ‘ere too, but she found herself a better deal-her boyfriend is taking her island hopping instead.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Hmm.” His eyes drop down to your cleavage. Shameless. “And they have that goddamn ‘no refunds’ policy. Might not wanna be here, but I ain’t gonna just let them take my fuckin’ money.” 

“Right, exactly,” You nod sarcastically. “You paid for that fruit smoothie.” 

“Sure fuckin’ did. So, your friend is newly single, and what about you? Boyfriend back home?” Wow, he doesn’t mess around. 

“Nope, no boyfriend.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good to know.” He nods, looking smug. 

“And you? Is there a Mrs. Miller?" 

He scoffs. “Nah, definitely not.” 

A hand lands heavily on your shoulder, making you flinch. 

“Heyyy, we’re going to the meditation class, you coming?” 

Joel looks away and you think he’s annoyed at the interruption. 

“Uhh, sure.” 

Reluctantly, you stand, and as you move past his chair, his hand brushes against your knee, sending a shiver through your entire body. You tell yourself for the rest of the day that he didn’t mean to do that; it had to be a mistake, right? 

Day 2 

You spot him in the corner of the room, his face scrunched up as he prods at the food on his plate. Not that you were looking for him (so you tell yourself), but you knew you’d probably find him here in the empty canteen in the middle of the day.

“Not a fan?” You ask, standing by his table. When he looks up and sees you, his hard face instantly softens. 

“More of a steak kinda guy. Can’t seem to find an ounce of meat in this goddamn place.” 

“You won’t, this entire place is meat-free.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Course it is.” He stabs his fork into the slab of tofu on his plate before taking a large bite. He points to the seat opposite him. “Sit.” 

You bounce your leg underneath the table, a nervous energy buzzing through you that you try to hide. “So did you take a class this morning?”

“Nah, I slept in; haven’t done that in years.” He says proudly with a mouth full of food. 

“Oh.” 

“That damn yoga yesterday was one class too many for me. S’pose I can tell my daughter that I tried, but I’m not built for all this fuckin’ wellness stuff.” He nods towards you. “But, if I can get through this week by keeping my head down and avoiding eye contact with anyone but you, I’ll be happy.”

Fuck, is he hitting on you? “So I take it you won’t be coming to the sound bath tonight?”

“Sound bath? Hell’s one of those?” He brings his thumb to his lips, licking the sauce off, and you do well to suppress a moan. 

“Something about lying on the floor as the sun sets over the ocean, listening to some therapeutic sounds. Kate said it’s like an out-of-body experience. Type of stuff to cleanse the soul, apparently.” 

He sneers. “Doubt that… you’re going?” 

You shrug. “Why not? You should come along.” 

He leans back from his plate. There’s not a single part of him that would ever want to go to this, but it’s a chance to spend time with you, so he gives in. “Alright. But you promise me I only have to lie there? I don’t have to mold my body into a goddamn pretzel and pretend it feels good?”

“Promise.” 

“Guess I’ll see you later then.” 

“Oh shit,” Kate whispers, nudging your arm.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s that guy again.”

“What guy?” You look behind to see Joel walking up towards the group, head down like he hates the world for putting him in this place right now.

“Did you see him in the yoga class yesterday? The guy had no idea what was going on. I mean, look at him; he doesn’t even look like he wants to be here.”

“Uhh, I didn’t really notice.” You lie. 

“You didn’t? Girl, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. kind of a creep if you ask me.”

“Don’t be mean, Kate.” 

She scoffs. “Saw you speaking to him at the bar too. What was he like? Is he here by himself?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t really say much.”

“Right…” her eyes narrow like she doesn’t believe you. “Well good luck, he’s heading right for that spot next to you.”

You glance up, meeting his gaze. 

“This spot taken?” He asks.

“No.” You shuffle, making more room for him. “Please, sit.”

“Can’t fuckin’ believe I’m doing’ this,” He whispers. 

“Trust me.”

As the sun begins to set, casting pinks and oranges across the ocean in the near distance, the older lady running the session begins drawing calming and therapeutic sounds from the crystal bowls around her. 

Straight away you feel him fidget beside you, and he nudges the back of your hand. “The fuck?” 

You try not to laugh at his horrified expression, biting the inside of your cheek in an effort to remain composed. “Just go with it.”

Once the class is fully underway you become desperate to open your eyes to look at him again. The soft, warm breeze carries the smell of his musky cologne over to you, and despite the sounds of the instruments nearby, you can hear his gentle breaths as he finally lets his body relax, trying to give the class a chance. 

Eventually, your curiosity gets the better of you and you turn to look at him. With his eyes still closed, you take the opportunity to really examine him now. The strong line of his jaw, his soft, slightly sun-kissed skin, and those lips you can’t help but imagine what they would be like to kiss. You let your eyes travel down his body, noticing the rise and fall of his belly, down to his calloused hand that rests so close to yours. This class was supposed to calm you, to take your mind off all distracting thoughts, but the more you stare at his beauty, the more your head starts to race.

When it’s over, you turn to Kate but she’s focused on the man beside you. “Oh my god,”

“What?”

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed he'd fallen asleep. It’s sweet; he seems so comfortable and peaceful. Poking his arm gently, you feel bad for interrupting his slumber. 

“Joel.” Nothing. “Hey, Joel,” you poke him again. 

His eyes open, and for a second you can tell he has no idea where he is; then he laughs, rubbing his palm over his face with a groan. 

“Shit, don’t tell anybody, but I enjoyed that.”

“Hmmm, I could tell,” you giggle awkwardly. There’s a glimmer of sweat running down his neck, leading underneath his collar, and all you can think about is how bad you want to lean in and taste it. He notices you staring.

 “Got a little hot laying there, gonna head over to the pool. You wanna join?”

No, don’t do it. “Oh, it’s getting late, I shouldn’t. My friend is-” You look around to find Kate, who’s already walking away with some guy, without even a glance back in your direction. 

“Seems like your friend is preoccupied.” 

“Yeah…”

Following him down the sandy trail lined with palm trees towards the quieter side of the resort, you make it to the pool, noticing the closed sign by the entrance. You watch him walk around the edge of the water, standing over on the other side to you. “Wanna get in?”

Of course you want to; the sun might have dipped below the horizon, but it’s still so warm, and the cool water seems inviting. But your shyness gets the better of you, so you take a seat on the edge of the pool, dangling your feet over into the water. “I think I’ll just watch.”

He shrugs before he proceeds to lift his shirt up and over his head revealing his broad chest. He dives into the pool, swimming under the water towards your side. When he surfaces, he stops just in front of you, pushing a hand through his wet curls.

You look away, avoiding his intense eye contact as you push your thighs together, trying to discreetly calm the heat stirring down below. At this angle, all it would take would be for you to adjust your legs slightly, and he'd have a full view of your drenched panties underneath your skirt, and with the way he’s looking at you right now, he knows that too. 

“You know the pool is closed, right?” You say, trying to place your mind on anything else. 

“And?” 

“What if someone sees us?”

“Then we run,” He laughs. “Relax, it’s late. Ain't no one around.” 

He swims a little closer towards you, not taking his eyes off you. You dare him, dare him to touch you before a voice comes from the darkness, and a worker's eyes land on Joel in the water. “Hey! You can’t be in here!” 

“Shit. We gotta go!”

He pulls himself out of the pool, water dripping everywhere as he runs over to grab his pile of discarded clothes. “That way!” he runs after you.  

As you run, the low light makes it hard to see where you’re going, and eventually you're faced with a dead end. Joel takes your hand without thinking, pulling you in another direction along the perimeter of a tall fence. “Where the hell are we going?”

You can still hear the worker coming after you, but your laughter at how ridiculous this is starts to become uncontrollable, making it hard to keep up with him. “Joel, hold up, I need a second, please.” You stop, resting your hand on your hips, panting quickly as your lungs begin to hurt. 

He looks around for another way out of the trees, but it’s hopeless. “Yeah, we gotta jump it.”

“The fence?” Your eyes go wide at the realization. 

He grins. “Yes, darlin’, the fence. Here.” He bends down, holding his hands out to give you a hand up. “I’ll help ya.”

“I can’t climb over there, Joel!”

“You wanna get caught? They’ll charge us a fee if they catch us.” He knows they wouldn’t, it’s not a big deal, but he’s just enjoying this moment and the panic on your face a little too much. “Come on.”

Panicked, you place your foot into his hand, but your grip slips on the wood, falling back down into him. Instinctively his hands come to grip your hips tightly, ensuring you don’t hurt yourself. “Whoa, careful there, sweetheart. Ya good?” 

You nod, and he lifts you again, this time with his hands still on your waist and you have to focus hard on the task at hand and not the feel of his hands gripping you right there.

When you reach the steps of the cabin, the thrill of what just happened starts to wear off, and you look up at him curiously. They’d actually charge us?”

“Uhhh,” he looks away, smiling. “I kinda made that part up.”

“Wow, you’re an ass.”

“But it was worth it to see the look on ya face.” 

You smile because tonight was the most fun you’ve had in a long time.

“Anyway,” you look down at your feet. “I should go inside.” 

He looks disappointed. “Alright, good night.” 

“Good night, Joel.”

Day 3

Today was the day you’d been looking forward to. In the brochure you’d read about a hike to one of the many stunning waterfalls on the island. You’d told yourself that if you really had to come to this retreat with Kate, you had to make it worthwhile and do a little exploring. 

In typical Kate style, she’d bailed at the last minute, leaving you to go along to the hike solo. You weren’t too bothered, but everyone else who signed up for the trip had a partner, so you knew you’d either have to step out of your comfort zone or go it alone with your thoughts for the entire hike. 

Almost like the universe sensed you needed rescuing, at the last minute Joel appeared, and just like you, he was all by himself. You could laugh at how typical this was becoming, like some stupid cliche romcom waiting to happen. 

“Hey.” You smile awkwardly as he comes to stand beside you.

“You don’t strike me as much of a hiker.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, it’s not exactly yoga, is it? Trekking into a humid, dense forest for a few hours with all the bugs.”

“The brochure said it was an easy stroll.” You smirk, playing dumb. 

“Hmmm, that's because they gotta sell these things to us crazy folk.”

“And you? Didn’t fancy the reiki instead?”

“Huh?” he frowns. “I don’t even know what that is, but a few hours away from all this seemed like a good idea.” 

The guide starts speaking at the front of the group; you can’t make out a word, but then he signals for everyone to follow. 

“So, where’s your friend today?”

“Cooking class, with some guy.” 

“Ahh, that’s a shame.” He couldn’t look more disinterested if he tried. 

You walk for a while following behind Joel up into the hills of the island, and for some time it’s just like the brochure said: easy. But soon the intensity picks up, and you're climbing through dense greenery, trying like hell not to slip down wet, slippery rocks. 

“Hey, you should go ahead of me; I’ll watch your back if you slip, but take it steady alright, darling.”

“Ahh, I get it.”

“Get what?”

“You just need an excuse to stare at my ass the whole way.”

“So what if I do?"

“And here I thought you were just being a gentleman.”

“How d'ya expect me to be a gentleman when you show up wearing those tiny fuckin’ shorts? You wear ‘em just to fuck with me, or what?” 

You almost choke at his words. “You didn’t even cross my mind.”

He narrows his eyes playfully. “Oh, I’m sure I did." 

When you reach the waterfall after a few hours, it’s magical. The water cascades down from a tremendous height into a cave below, reflecting ripples of turquoise and green onto the rocks all around you. You're exhausted and probably look like a sweaty mess, but boy was the hike worth it. 

“Now this is what I’m talking about.” Joel’s smile stretches from ear to ear as he stands, hands resting on his hips, observing the view before him. 

Over on the other side of the cave, some of the other members of the group waste no time, jumping down from the cliffs into the water below, instantly making you want to join them. He looks at you, the same thought in his mind. “What d’ya say?” 

“Hell yeah!”

“Atta girl.”

Forgetting about anything else, you both strip down to your underwear, occasionally sneaking glances at the other as you do. Then he takes your hand in his, and he guides you down onto the ledge.

“On the count of three…”

You jump with him, your bodies flying through the air before plunging straight into the cool, crystal-clear water below. It’s exhilarating, the water the perfect temperature to refresh after the sweaty hike.

“Oh my god!” You yell excitedly, turning in the water to find him. When you meet his stare, he starts chuckling softly. “What?”

“Nothin’. Ya just got a pretty smile.”

You blush, looking up at the sky above. “I think Kate really missed out; this is beautiful.” 

“Yeah, really is somethin’.” You feel his eyes linger on you as you tip your head back, letting your body turn weightless as you float in the water. 

On the hike back, you make Joel take the lead this time so you can stare at his ass instead. You're lost in the sound of his dreamy voice as he talks and talks about how he’d easily be able to survive if he lived out here in the forest when you misstep, your boot twisting down into a crevice and you cry out in pain. 

“What is it?!” He turns fast, eyes big with worry as he rushes back to you. Before you can even attempt to move, he’s on his knees in front of you, reaching down between the rocks to gently pull your boot free. 

You wince, trying like hell not to let the tears fall in front of him.

“Fuuuuccckk! I’m such an idiot. How does it look, do you think it’s bad?”

“It’s not broken. But you don’t wanna put any pressure on that for the rest of the day.” 

“I don’t really have a choice, we gotta get back.”

He looks round for the guide and the rest of the group, who are nowhere to be seen by now. “Great. Knew that guide was a useless piece of shit.”

You start to panic, the pain pulsing through your leg. “Joel,”

“Gonna have to put in a complaint about him, what kind of-”

“Joel! please, just forget about him, he’s gone.”

He grunts, hands resting on his hips in frustration at the thought of them just leaving you behind.

“It really fuckin’ hurts.” Your eyes fill with water and you struggle to fight the tears any longer.

“I know. Just breathe alright, take some deep breaths for me.”

A few moments pass and once you calm down, you try to stand but instantly fall back down onto the rock the second you put any weight onto it, crying out from the excruciating pain that shoots straight through your body. 

“Woah, easy girl!” He reaches forward, wanting to make sure you don’t injure yourself further. “Alright, that’s it. We don’t have any other option, you’re gonna have to climb on my back. I’ll carry ya.”

“What? Are you crazy? You can’t do that.”

“It’s not far now, and I can’t just leave you here, can I?”

You’re not sure now what’s worse, the pain in your foot or the sheer embarrassment. Maybe this really is a cliche movie after all, you’ve known this man for three damn days. You look up at him, face red and puffy. “I’m sorry. I should have been more careful.”

“Don’t start with that, it’s happened. Now come on, up you get.”

He turns, helping you climb up onto his back. He jumps a little, securing you firm and tight in his grip before setting off. He makes you feel so secure like this, your body wrapped around his huge frame and the smell of his shampoo consuming your senses, and you start to forget about the searing pain for a while. 

Naturally, he takes you back to his cabin; it makes sense, it’s closer than yours. He’s so gentle with the way he drops you down into the chair on the balcony, but as he straightens up, he groans at the ache of his back. 

“I’m so sorry, now you’re hurting too.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it darlin’, just ain’t that young any more.” He looks down at you with a kind smile. He’s sweaty, a few of his brown curls sticking to his forehead, and you can tell he’s tired. “I’ll be right back.”

When he returns from inside, he’s equipped with ice and bandages and that small flask he’d smuggled in. 

“You raid the medical room or something?”

He laughs, “Nah, I just like to be prepared for anything. Sarah always gives me shit for it, but I knew it’d come useful one day.” He holds the bottle out to you. “Here, it’ll help with the pain.”

He sits in the opposite chair, lifting your foot onto his lap. 

“Joel, you don’t have to do that, I can-”

“Shhh.”

“But you’ve done enough-”

“Quiet.”

You watch him remove your boot and gently remove the sock, revealing your swollen bruised ankle. Your breathing increases, the panic coursing through you again as he asses the damage. 

You're so embarrassed. “Please, Joel, I can do it.”

“I won’t tell ya again. Relax.” He holds the ice pack carefully against the swelling. 

“I ruined the day, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t ruin anything. Shit happens. But in fact I really enjoyed today.” 

You look down at your bruised ankle, and he grins. “You know what I mean, before you slipped and almost broke your leg.”

“Right.”

“Hungry?”

“A little.”

He reaches over, digging into his backpack, and pulls out a squished bag of chips. 

“Best I got, I’m afraid, but trust me, these are pretty good, better than any shit they’re serving in that canteen.”

You talk late into the night, finishing the entire bag of chips and his small flask of alcohol. And even though you’re struggling to keep your eyes open, you don’t want today to end. 

“It’s late. You should get some rest. Take my bed; I’ll sleep out here.” 

“No, that's fine, you’ve done enough. Let me call Kate-“

“No arguments. Don’t bother her, she’s probably busy anyway.”

You sit forward, trying to stand, but it’s useless. He comes straight towards you, his protective instinct kicking in once again. Sliding his strong arms underneath your frame, he lifts you up and carries you inside to his bed. The mattress feels like a damn cloud compared to yours. He perches beside you on the edge of the mattress, looking down at you. 

You're tired and the alcohol is making your head fuzzy, but it’s only driving your desire for him further, so you get a little brave. “My clothes are dirty, don’t wanna ruin your bed…”

He looks down at your shorts, stained with dirt from the fall. His lips part, the thoughts of how he should handle this racing through his head. Reaching down, you unbutton them, his eyes following.

“Would you mind? I could use a little help…” 

He nods, unable to say a word. He turns, bending down to help you remove the offending garment. Then he traces his finger up your leg painfully slow until it reaches the hem of your shirt. 

“This too?” he whispers. You nod. 

He allows himself a moment to admire what’s before him, you bared to him, clad in nothing but your underwear, and you notice the tent bulging in his trousers. It’s soft and intimate. “You’re beautiful.” He whispers.

But then reality hits, and he swallows, closing his eyes as he runs a hand over his face. Fuck…” he sighs, turning away

“Joel.”

“No, we can’t, we’re drunk and tired. Get some sleep.” He strides over to the door, closing it behind him. 

Day 4 

The warm sun shining through the cabin window wakes you from a deep sleep. Through the door opposite, you hear the sound of water running in the bathroom; he’s in the shower.

You panic a little when you spot your ruined clothes strewn over the chair beside the bed, and you remember last night. 

You sit and attempt to stand. The swelling has eased on your ankle, and it feels better than it did last night, so you wrap the sheet around you and limp over towards the window, trying to use the stunning view of the ocean to take your mind off the embarrassment you feel. 

The bathroom door opens, and when you turn, you see the towel wrapped low around his waist, and you can’t seem to divert your eyes anywhere other than to the trail of hairs that leads from his belly button down underneath the towel. 

He looks up, hair wet, water droplets dripping down his chest, and he lets his eyes take in the sight. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake ya.” He smiles. 

“You didn’t.”

He nods to your leg. “How is it?”

“Better, thanks.”

“Good.”

There’s a strange atmosphere arising in the room that wasn’t there last night. He moves over to the pile of clothes on the dresser. With his back to you, he dresses quickly and walks over towards the door next to you, checking the time. 

“Uhhh, I gotta go,” he scratches the back of his neck hesitatingly. “Take your time, water’s still hot; take one of my shirts too if you need it.”

Then he disappears out the door. With him gone, you feel strange in his cabin alone, so you shower quickly, dress in one of his T-shirts that smells just like him, and limp all the way back to your own room on the other side of the resort, praying nobody notices you. 

For the rest of the day he’s nowhere to be seen, and a part of you wonders if he’s left. He hates this damn place; he was only here to get his money's worth after all.

“What the hell happened to you?” Kate asks, noticing the limp as you walk beside her down to dinner that night. 

“Slipped on the hike yesterday. I’m fine.”

“I knew you shouldn’t have gone alone, I’m sorry.”

You don’t bother to tell her that Joel was with you; you love her, but she’d only have something condescending to say about him.

You don’t eat much at dinner, not having much of an appetite, and, to be honest, your mind is just stuck on the image of him in that towel this morning. It’s pathetic really, but you can’t help it. 

“Are you listening? What’s going on?” Kate asks, drawing you out of your daze.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been acting strange tonight, you still in pain?”

Then you finally see him. He's sitting in the distance, only the soft brown curls of the back of his head visible, but you can tell it’s him.  

“What are you looking at?” Kate turns, scanning the room, confused about what’s distracting you. 

“Oh, nothing. What were you saying?”

She rolls her eyes and continues talking about her ex, the one she’s here supposedly trying to get over, but you can hardly pay attention when he’s right there. Eventually, he stands from his table and turns until his eyes land on yours. For a second, he lets his eyes linger, but you look away as the heat begins to creep up your neck, and you fear Kate will notice.

Clearing your throat, you take a final sip of your drink and excuse yourself from the table, telling your friend that you don’t feel well. Maybe it’s the retreat, maybe it’s the idea of being on vacation away from the reality of back home, but how can a guy you’ve known for an embarrassingly small amount of time be having such an impact on your mind and body? 

The short walk back from the canteen to your room feels too far. As you fumble with your room key, the image of his face, his bare wet chest, and the sound of his deep voice won’t stop playing through your thoughts. When you finally manage to unlock your room door, you stumble inside, locking the door behind you and falling straight onto your bed to reach down and ease the intense pressure between your thighs. 

Day 5 

“Saw ya looking for me last night.” He says, nudging your arm with his as you sit side by side at the painting class, waiting for others to arrive. It surprised you that he was going to any more classes, but you suspect he’d only decide to attend a few minutes ago when you bumped into him after dinner and told him where you were headed.

“Looking for you?”

“Yeah. Don’t deny it.” 

You hesitate, then shrug. “Thought maybe you’d left.” 

“That’s nice.”

“What is?”

“That you were thinking about me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

He grins. “Just teasin’ ya. But ya were, right?”

You smile, rolling your eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you run off the other night?” 

“Run?” 

“Yeah, after you undressed me. And then you were strange in the morning. Did I upset you?” 

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Nah, not at all, darlin’.” 

“Then what?”

“I just didn’t know if I could control myself. You were standing there, wrapped in my bedsheet and I just didn’t trust myself not to have my way with ya.”

You swallow; you didn’t expect him to give such an honest response. 

“What if I wanted you to?”

“You don’t want that.”

“Don’t tell me what I want. Think I’d let you undress me if I didn’t want you to?”

His lips part as he hesitates; he doesn’t know what to say.

Suddenly the class instructor arrives, along with another eccentric looking couple, and you hear Joel chuckle beside you. “Jesus Christ, I’m outta ‘ere.”

He starts to rise from his seat but you grab his bicep, pulling him back down. “Oh no you don’t mister, you’re here now, you’re not leaving alone with those two.”

The couple sit down beside you both, the woman practically on Joel’s knee which irritates you. The instructors eyes scan over the four of you. 

“Uhhh alright, I think we can work with this.” He says. “I was expecting more people, but seeing as we only have two couples in the class tonight, how about we mix it up.”

“Oh, we’re not…” you and Joel say together, but the man cuts you both off. 

“Tonight, I want you to paint your partner. I want you to really examine them, take in all their features and their quirks that you find so attractive, and get it down on the canvas.”

Joel turns, looking to you with annoying grin, he’s finding this all too amusing. “Glad you chose this class, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“So how long have you two been together?” The woman asks, gesturing between you and Joel as you all get to work on your pieces.

“Uhh…”

“6 years.” Joel cuts you off, and you kick his leg underneath the table. Is he crazy?

“Ohh wow that’s beautiful, isn’t it, babe?” She looks over to her husband, who’s taking this painting way too seriously. 

“And you have kids too?” She asks. 

“Hmm. Two, a girl and a boy.” he nods. “A dog too, the perfect family unit, y’know.”

The poor lady drinks in every word as Joel continues to sell her this made-up life. You think about correcting him because the woman is genuinely sweet and you’re starting to feel a little bad, but Joel’s clearly enjoying himself, so you go with it.

“And the age gap? That’s never been an issue for you guys?” The husband adds, finally looking up from his piece.

You smirks at Joel, trying not to laugh.

“Ya saying I’m old?” Joel frowns, unimpressed by the remark, his cocky demeanour now replaced with that old grumpy one.

“No,” he stutters as Joel glares at him. “Not at all.”

“Good, cause she ain’t ever had a problem with it, have you darlin’?” He looks at you, eyes suggestive.

You look back down at your painting as your cheeks turn a rosy shade of red.

When you're done, you show each other the finished results. Safe to say, your painting is the worst thing you’ve ever seen, and you feel bad because when Joel reveals his, you're slightly taken aback by his effort. “Holy shit, Joel. Didn’t have you down as an artist!”

The woman beside you gasps. “Ohhh that’s so cute, you guys, you’re still learning new things about each other even after all this time.”

Joel rolls his eye, by this point he’s had enough of this woman and you can tell, he doesn’t even bother to tease her anymore. 

“You wanna keep it?” He asks pointing to his impression of you as you walk wide by side back towards the cabins.

“Really? Yeah I’d love to. Thank you, Joel.”

Then you look at the tragic piece you created, it’d just be offensive to ask if he wanted to keep yours.

“Can I have mine?” He asks.

You’re shocked he’d even consider it.

“No way, it’s awful, It’d just be rude to let you have it.”

“I mean shit, I don’t even know what that’s supposed to be, I don’t even look human,” he laughs. “but I enjoyed it, it was fun doing this with you, and it’d be nice to take home a souvenir of my time at this godawful place.” He winks.

“Okay, if that’s what you want. And I enjoyed it too, thank you for keeping me company.”

“Anytime.”

He walks you all the way back to your room, and once your both safely under the cover of the porch, he grabs your hips and guides you backwards into the shadows. You gasp as your back hits the wall and his hips grind into you, letting you feel exactly what you do to him. He leans forward, his lips so close but not quite touching yours. “I really want to kiss you.” his voice lower than you’ve ever heard it.

His words paired with the way his eyes have turned black with desire is making you crazy. There’s just something about him, his unapologetic cockiness that makes you want him more than anything, even after such a short amount of time.

“Then kiss me.”

“Nuh-uh,”

“Why?” You protest, and his finger comes to rest on your lips.

“Like the idea of teasing ya first. Making you so fuckin’ desperate for me that I have you beggin’.”

“Joel,” you sigh.

“I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything.” You hate how desperate that sounded to you, but right now you don’t care because you know he loves it by the way his eyes turn even darker. 

“Take off your panties.” 

“Wh…what?”

“Take ‘em off, hand ‘em to me.”

“Here?” You look around; it’s dark, the wall behind you protects you from the view of anyone who could pass by, and still your heart begins to beat out of your chest at the idea. 

“Right ‘ere.”

You lift the fabric of your dress slowly up your legs until you can hook your finger into your panties. Slowly, you push them down your legs before handing the damp fabric to him. “Good girl.”

He scrunches the fabric in his palm before bringing it to his nose, inhaling deeply without taking his eyes off yours. Then he steps back from you, tucking your underwear into his pocket, and he begins to walk away.

“Where are you going?” 

He looks back, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Got a little personal business to take care of.” 

Day 6 

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath. You didn’t even intend to meet him in the spa late that night, but of course, there he was, climbing into the hot tub you’d come here specifically for. You’d come here late after dinner in the hope of avoiding anybody else and to clear your head, but that wasn’t going to happen now. 

You turn back to walk towards the door when he sees you and calls your name. When you turn, you see that glimmer in his eyes as he rests his head back against the tub.

“Ya trying to avoid me?”

“No,” you grin, walking towards him. 

“Sure? I can go if you want me to.”

You shake your head, biting your lip to try to suppress the underlying giddiness starting to buzz through you. “No, I don’t want you to do that.”

Against your better judgment, you join him, slipping down into the hot water, appreciating the way it soothes your limbs. 

You talk for a while, seemingly getting closer. You want him so bad it hurts. Like he can tell how desperate you are, you feel the tips of his fingers brush against your leg, slowly moving up the outside past your knee and over the top of your thigh, making you sigh.

“This okay?” He whispers, his lips moving close to your skin,   

“Mmmmh.” 

The back of his knuckles trace up your body, tickling against your neck. “Open up.”

You part your lips, and he inserts a finger into your mouth, your lips closing around it. 

“Good girl.”

You moan around his digit, eager for more. 

“You’re making me fuckin’ crazy, darlin’.” 

You move your hand over to his lap, stroking up his thigh until you reach the bugle in his shorts, making him grunt as you start to stroke him over the material. 

He withdraws his finger from your mouth and buries his head into your neck, peppering soft wet kisses along your skin, and you start to feel like you can’t breathe. It’s an intense combination; the hot water, his lips on your skin, and the heat building between your thighs become too much. You pull away abruptly and very ungracefully, leaving the tub in search of the showers, desperately looking for a way to cool down. 

As the cooler water from the shower rains over you, you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your mind. If you were in the safety of your room, you’d slip a hand down between your legs to soothe the overwhelming sensation down there, but you can’t, not here; you don’t dare. 

Then you hear it: the sound of the door closing behind you. You know it’s him, you hope it’s him.  

“You shouldn’t be in here.” You say in a weak protest. 

“Tell me to go and I will.” 

You don’t say a word, instead watching him slowly walk towards you, the bulge still evident. He’s in dangerous territory right now, you don’t know how much restraint you have remaining. You turn back, facing the wall, closing your eyes as he comes up close behind you, his breath hot against your skin.

The rise and fall of your chest increases, when you feel his fingertips trail up your spine, around your ribs before moving over your stomach and up to squeeze your breasts. A low grunt comes from deep within him when he brushes a thumb over your hard nipple, making your mouth fall open in pleasure. His lips come to the back of your neck, placing soft kisses on your skin. Then his hand moves down into the band of your bikini, fingers slipping down between your drenched folds, teasing. You sigh, pressing back against his raging erection. 

“You like that?” he murmurs against your skin. You bite your lip, nodding desperately. 

“Yeahh I can fuckin’ tell, you’re drippin’, baby.”

Your walls begin to clench around his fingers, your orgasm building. 

“Don’t cum.” 

“Joel.” You sigh in protest. 

“Don’t.” 

He continues his ministrations, pushing you closer towards the edge until you're so close. You reach up, gripping his hair as your hips move messily against him, grinding yourself into his hand. All too suddenly, he withdraws from your wetness as you gasp hard at the loss. 

“Joel.” You turn, your chest heaving as you reach out for his hand. He’s already stepping away from your body. “What? Where are you going?” He walks out without even another look at you, leaving you there, frustrated and so goddamn needy for him. 

Day 7 

You woke up pissed; pissed that he did that to you, pissed that he gets to be so smug about last night. What an asshole. 

Now, after a final day of semi relaxing classes with Kate, you lean back against the sheltered wall of your balcony, taking a drag of the cigarette you’d manage to smuggle into the resort. Kate would kill you if she knew, not only because it’s against the rules, but also because you’d promise her you’d stopped the nasty habit, and you had. But you needed a hit, just a little something to take the edge off. 

The crack of a branch alerts you to his arrival, walking down the secluded, pebbled trail toward your cabin. 

“Ya ain’t s’posed to be doing that.” He says, referring to the cigarette between your lips. 

Exhaling the smoke, you grin at him like a teenager who just got caught. “You ain’t supposed to be out of your room; they promote bed by 9, remember.” 

“Thought you would have guessed by now, I don’t follow rules.” 

He comes up the few steps until he’s on your level. Reaching up, he takes the cigarette from your hand and brings it to his lips. Great, now that was really fucking hot. 

“Why are you here?”

“Wanted to see you.” He smiles, but there’s a sadness behind those eyes. “You know we leave after tomorrow, right?”

“I know.” You look down to the ground. 

The fact hurts. You don’t want this week to end, the escape and the time spent with him has felt so good, a small bit of excitement in your very mundane life. And you’ve enjoyed the thrill of sneaking around, crushing on a guy that’s probably too old for you, especially when you’ve only known him a matter of days. But still, the chemistry, the need, and the temptation has been unlike anything you’ve experienced before. 

“Come with me.” He states, pushing himself off the balcony.

“Where to”

“You’ll see.”

He walks you down the winding trail towards the beach. It’s crazy when you think about it, you’ve been here almost a week yet haven’t even stepped foot on the sand, only seeing it from a distance during the classes that would supposedly give you the medicine that sand between your toes could bring in seconds. 

He stops in his tracks, holding out his arms at the sight. “They say this is a fuckin’ wellness retreat and then ask us to be locked up by 9pm, but they’re missing the real goodness right here. I mean, look at that view, and it’s fuckin’ free too.” 

You look at each other, the same thought running through both your heads. Fuck it. Feeling like you're running out of time, the invitation is too hard to refuse. Stripping down to your underwear, you run side by side fast towards the ocean, diving straight into the waves. 

This is what you needed. It’s exhilarating. You swim out a little further from the crash of the waves on the shore until the ocean feels calmer and he comes up so close behind you. His lips brush against your ear, his hand, low on your stomach, pulls your ass back into his front. 

Neither of you utters a word, instead just float peacefully in each other's embrace, enjoying the moment.

“No one ever has to know.” He says softly into your ear. “We leave tomorrow, we never have to see each other ever again. Just be our little secret.” 

When you pull away from him, you swim back to the beach. But you don’t leave, you just stretch out on the towel, letting the sun dry the water droplets on your body as you watch him still in the water, thinking about what he just said.

Finally, he rests his wet body down beside yours and props his head up in his hand as he watches you. When you meet his gaze, you know you’re done for. 

“What do ya want.” He asks quietly.

“Joel.”

“Tell me what ya want and I’ll give it to ya.”

“I want… I want you to kiss me.”

He leans in, the back of his hand brushing against your jaw before capturing your lips. He takes it slow to begin with, but you're both frustrated, and soon he pushes his tongue inside your mouth, searching desperately. 

He adjusts, lifting one of his legs over your body, trapping you beneath him as he hovers above you. 

“What else? I wanna hear you say it.” 

“I want you, Joel.” 

“Where?”

“You know where.”

He kisses your lips once more before moving down your body. His fingers graze your hip, pulling at the string of your bikini to make it loose. As you lift your hips from the towel, he peels the damp fabric down your legs before settling at your middle. 

“Spread your legs.” 

You don’t, and instead you give him a coy expression.

“I won’t ask again.”

His lips part when he finally sees you bared to him, your cunt glistening wet with your need for him. “Jesus, look at ya.”

You thank the universe that there’s not another soul on this beach; you’d be mortified if anyone were to emerge from the trees that line the sand and see Joel Miller with his head between your thighs. Still, the thrill that it could happen makes you even hornier, whimpering as his breath tickles against your skin. 

He starts at your knee, kissing down your thigh, before licking a wet trail to the place you desire him most. 

“Wait,” you cup his face with your hands.

“What’s wrong?” His dark eyes soften a little, worried you don’t want to do this. 

“Nothing, it’s just… it’s been a little while.”

“Been a while for me too,” he smiles. “Just relax, alright, I’ve got ya sweetheart.”

He spits onto your cunt, his finger coming up to swirl the thick gob of spit all over your exposed pussy, playing with your folds to make it even more slick. “God, you don’t realize how pretty you are like this.”  

Then his tongue is on you, slowly licking along your seam, his palm holding your hips down as you wriggle underneath him. 

“Ohhhh shit.” You pant as he teases you. He moves his tongue up to flick over your clit, and the sound that comes from between your lips when he does makes his cock twitch. 

“Taste so fuckin’ good.” He murmurs against you, his beard rough against your skin. 

Lifting your head slightly, you look down to see the contortion of his shoulder blades as he buries his face in your pussy. Behind him, the gentle lap of the waves on the shore paired with the view of the sun finally disappearing behind the horizon makes this moment feel like pure heaven. 

He snakes a hand up your body and up to your jaw until his index finger slips into your mouth. You close your lips around his thick digit, sucking hard making his dick pulse as your body withers against him. 

When you feel your climax building, your thighs close around his head, desperately pulling him closer into your heat as his wet tongue laps at your clit over and over again.

“Dont stop.” you breathe.

It doesn’t take much longer for him to draw an intense orgasm from you, and when he looks up, his beard wet with your juices, he grins like he just hit the fucking jackpot. 

He crawls back up your body, pushing his tongue into your mouth in a sloppy kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

But then he stops.

“What is it?” 

He sighs, irritated. “Someone’s coming.” 

“Oh my god, can they see us?” 

“Nah. But we should go somewhere more private.” He nods down the beach towards the unmistakable blonde curls you would recognize anywhere.

“Oh my god, Kate! We have to go now!”

He helps you up, wrapping the towel around your waist, and quickly leads you away with his hand low on your back, leading you to his cabin. 

Backing you up against the wall with a thud, his palm cups the back of your head to cushion the force, the towel pooling at your feet. You sense he’s impatient by the way he grinds his hips into you, letting you feel his hard cock aching to be released from the confines of his shorts. 

You reach down, stroking him over the fabric, making him groan into your neck as he kisses the soft skin there. 

“On your knees now.” He barks.

You do as he says, swiftly pulling down his shorts, allowing his hard cock to spring free. Jesus, he’s big. 

“Take it.” He murmurs impatiently. 

He pushes his hips forward and you swirl your tongue around the tip to taste the precum that’s leaking. He groans, his pants increasing as you take him into your mouth. As you look up at him with his erection between your lips, he gathers a fistful of your hair, edging himself deeper into your mouth, testing your limits. 

When he inches a little too far, you gag around him and you push at his thighs, letting him know you need a second. 

But when you pull him back and give him a nod, he doesn’t hold back, his arms braced against the wall above you as he bottoms out and fucks your mouth hard. The sweet sounds of you gagging around him while thick strings of spit drip down your chin only spur him on. “Fuck, baby, yeahhh that’s so hot.”

He watches you, the rapid rise and fall of your tits as you struggle to breathe, and the way your eyes water at the stretch. When it gets too much and he knows he’s so close, he pulls out and you gasp for air. 

“good?”

You nod, standing back on two wobbly feet. “Need you to fuck me, Joel.”

His jaw is rigid, and there’s a dark, devilish look in his eye that tells you he’s going to do exactly that. 

Moving away from your body, he takes a condom from the nightstand, and you watch him roll it over his thick hard cock. He grips your thighs hard as he lifts you up against the wall with a grunt, and you instantly wrap your legs around his waist. 

In a single swipe, he tears your bikini top off your chest, discarding it on the floor, and starts squeezing your left tit. His head dips down, allowing his tongue to suck at your nipple hard, making it all wet with his spit. “Please, Joel, I can’t wait any longer.” 

He takes his throbbing erection in hand, lining himself up with your cunt before thrusting up inside your tight walls with a deep, guttural growl. 

“Ahhh fuccck,” he sighs. “You’re so tight,” his nose nudges yours. “You feel like heaven, baby.” 

He gives you a moment to adjust to the deep intrusion. When he can’t hold himself back anymore, he draws almost all the way out before thrusting right back into you, pushing the air from your lungs. He buries his head into your neck, biting at the delicate skin there as he pounds into you over and over. 

“You feel so good,” you whimper,

“Yeah? You like me filling your pussy up, huh?”

You cup his jaw to pull his head so it rests against yours. “More, I need more, Joel.”

His nails dig into your ass as he grips you tighter, pulling you off the wall and over to the bed. Despite his eagerness, he makes sure to place you down gently, not wanting to hurt you. His body hovers above yours, waiting, teasing as he watches you squirm underneath him.

“Joel, please,"

“Please what?”

“Joel.”

“You know I wanna hear it.”

“Make me cum, Joel.”

A noise comes from the back of his throat as he pushes back inside your cunt, watching the way it makes your back arch and your mouth drop open. His eyes roll to the back of his head at the sight. 

He fills you so good, better than you’ve ever had, and maybe it’s sad, but breaks your heart a little that you’ll never see him again after tonight. You bite down hard on your lip, trying hard to stifle moans as his hips speed up. 

“Don’t go quiet on me now, darlin’, let me hear what I’m doing to ya.” 

He hooks his arm underneath your thigh, pushing your leg up towards your chest making the angle so much more intense, almost too intense. 

“Oh goddd, don’t stop.” You turn your head, laying wet kisses on his arm that’s braced next to your head. 

The sound of his body slapping against yours mixed with your wet juices mixing makes it hard for him to hold out much longer. “I’m so close, gonna need you to cum for me.” His free hand slips down between your sweaty bodies, his thumb applying pressure to your sensitive clit. 

Finally, you give him what he wants, crying out as your walls clench around his cock, your nails scratching sharp red marks down the expanse of his back.

“Ahhh yeahhh, just like that, you're squeezing me so fuckin’ good." He doesn’t take his eyes off you, watching the way your body jolts violently underneath him as he fucks you through it.

As you come down from your high, you notice the vein in his temple is bulging now and a layer of sweat is shining on his forehead as his thrusts start to turn messy. You cup his jaw, making him look into your eyes. “Don’t take your eyes off mine.”

He groans loud. “fuuuuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.”

He pulls out of your cunt and pulls the condom off. He strokes his cock hard until he breaks, releasing a long, primal grunt as he spurts hot, sticky ropes of his seed onto your tits. 

When he’s spent, you run a finger across your nipple, collecting some of his cum and bringing it to your tongue to taste. 

“Ohh yeahhh, now that image is gonna be painted in my mind for a long time.” He pants, listening to the soft hums as you suck at the saltiness of his seed.

An exerted gasp comes from him as he flops onto his back, pushing himself up against the headboard. He reaches over, opening the drawer of the nightstand to take out a pack of cigarettes. He takes one, running it along his lips before lighting it. 

Standing up from the bed, you know he’s watching the sway of your hips as you pad over towards the bathroom to clean up. 

“Jesus Christ, ain’t fucked like that in some time,” he laughs. “Guess I just needed to find ya, huh?”

Did he really just say that? You stare at your flushed complexion in the mirror, biting your lip hard as you overthink his meaning. 

When you come back, the scene makes your insides flutter. The sheets are strewn over the end of the bed, the used condom is discarded on the floor, and the place smells like pure sex. His big naked form is bared to you, his heavy cock limp between his legs, one hand resting low on his tummy, the cigarette hanging from his mouth.

He looks at your entirely naked body at the end of the bed, a dirty grin forming.

“What?”

“You’re perfect.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” You blush, coming over to your side of the bed. He holds his hand out, inviting you back to him to snuggle up into his side. 

“I mean it. Ain’t met anyone like you before.”

You don’t know how to respond so you sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments as you both recover. “I wish we didn’t have to leave in the morning,” 

“Hmmm, me too.” The tips of his fingers stroke slowly up and down your back, making goosebumps form on your skin.

“Thought you hated this place?”

“I did, still do; it’s insufferable and just a way to make money from sad and lonely people."

“Hey,” you poke his ribs. “I’m not sad and lonely, Joel.”

He chuckles. “Alright, but still, I think a certain someone made my time here worthwhile.”

“When you leave this place in the morning, you’ll forget all about this; you won’t even remember my name.”

“Uhhh, I don’t know about that.”

His response makes you giddy, because you know you’ll remember him too. This wasn’t just some casual one-night stand; it felt different from anything previously, it felt…real, special even. 

The thought that this all has to come to an end by morning makes you realize you need to make the most of the time left. So you start kissing his chest, moving down painstakingly slow, taking your sweet time to tease him. “Mmmh, yeahhh that feels nice.” His tummy flutters as your lips brush over his abdomen. Stroking your hand lightly up his thigh, his dick starts to stir again. 

“Want me again already?”

You flick your eyes up to his, your cheeks turning red at his suggestion. 

“Gonna have to give me a second, sweetheart, then I’ll get right to it.” 

You wake sometime in the early hours. You don’t know how long you have been asleep, but you were still tucked nicely into Joel’s side. Lifting your head, you see he’s still awake. 

“Hey.” He whispers 

You reach up, scratching your fingers softly through his beard. “You okay?”

“Never better. Just can't sleep.”

“Something on your mind?” 

“Nah.” 

You sigh. “I should head back.”

“Don’t. Just stay here like this with me a while longer… please.”

“Okay.” You smile. You adjust, turning over to face away from him, and he wraps his strong arm around your front, pulling you back into his body as he kisses the back of your shoulder softly. It's not long then until you hear his breathing change, and you know he’s finally fallen asleep. 

At the airport you sit staring into thin air, unable to stop thinking about last night and the fact you’re never going to see him again. When you woke up this morning still naked in his sheets, the ache of him still very much present between your legs, he wasn’t there. Of course you were disappointed; you’d hoped to say goodbye. If only you knew when you dressed and left his cabin that he was on his way back, mere minutes away with breakfast he’d stolen from the canteen especially for you. 

A note drops into your lap from above you, breaking you out of your thoughts. Looking over your shoulder, your heart skips when you see his tall retreating form disappearing into a crowd of tourists. You glance over at Kate; she’s engrossed in her phone, most likely choosing her photos for an Instagram post. 

Looking down at it, you unfold the paper. There’s his number and a message:

I’m not ready to say goodbye, call me.

-Joel.

[gutter-noise]

Dave York deserves to have his fingers sucked.

As a treat. 🙏

[aurorawritestoescape]

[milla-frenchy]

Lust (Taste in men part 2)

(mood board by my baby @aurorawritestoescape 😘💕)

2k1 | Joel Miller x Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | se7en collection | masterlist

Summary: you’ve spent a perfect night with your best friend Javi and your ex-boyfriend Joel, and the next day holds the promise of what’s to come Warnings: 18+ mdni. Threesome mmf (Javi and Joel are bi), 100% smut, praise kink, size kink, pet names (baby, sweetheart), cum eating, spitting on cock, oral (m/f), piv, creampies, aftercare. No age specified

a/n: this is a part of the se7en collection, and part 2 of Taste in men (you don’t need to read part 1, but it adds depth and plot to their story and background ❤️) Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing and always being a sweetheart 😘💕 dividers @/saradika-graphics 🙏

You woke up to the sound of groans and moans, mind blurred, not sure if you were awake. You feared that it was just a dream and your fingers would have to put out the needy heat in your lower belly.

But the sounds didn't stop, and you felt cum leaking from your pussy. You turned your head to the side, and a new hot wave ran through your core as you saw Javi lying on top of Joel, the two men kissing, awakening the memories of last night in your mind.

It was early morning, but there was enough light to see them clearly — Javi's digits around Joel's throat, Joel's hand squeezing the back of Javi's neck to keep him pressed against his lips. They were grinding against each other, naked, obviously trying not to make too much noise, unaware that you were awake. You slipped your hand between your thighs, collected some cum on the tip of your finger and rubbed your clit lazily. A moan immediately escaped your lips. 

“I think we have an audience,” Javi smiled against Joel’s mouth and they both looked at you splayed on the bed next to them, touching yourself slowly while watching them. 

Your friend crawled towards you like a wild animal, agile and silent, a smirk on his face, his cock hard as steel and leaking precum on the sheets. The vision made you shiver and your bud throbbed under your finger. Joel lay on his side, bent his arm and propped his head on his hand, settling comfortably to watch the two of you. You glanced at his cock - it was hard, too.

“Good morning, baby,” Javi said, his playful gaze fixed on you then lingering on your body until it reached your crotch. He settled between your thighs, pushed on them with his shoulders and lapped at your cunt, swallowing the sperm flowing from it, running his tongue flat against your folds up to your clit. You jolted with overstimulation.

Javi pressed a soft kiss on your mound and climbed up your body, peppering your belly with kisses on his way, his hands cupping your breasts. You moaned when he brought his mouth to them and nibbled at your tits, your hands lost in his hair. 

“You’re needy, baby, aren’t you?” he smiled while sucking at one then released it with a pop. He raised your arm to kiss your side and armpit, up to your neck and finally reached your lips. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him a little closer to you, your tongues mingling.

You loved feeling his moustache on your skin, how soft it was. Kissing Javi was always hot, always enough to turn your panties into a sticky mess, but it was even hotter now, knowing he was making out with your ex boyfriend moments ago. He rubbed his cock against you, probably just to make you feel how hard he was, and smirked when your breathing quickened. He licked at your lips and slid his hand between your two bodies, brushed your folds up to your clit, and you shivered again.

“Your little pussy’s sensitive, baby?” he asked, straightening up. With his hands by either side of your head, arms outstretched, he was taking in the full view of your disheveled hair and features drawn by the delicious fatigue after the short night.

You also had the most delightful view of his gaze set on you, his sinful and gorgeous face, his teeth nibbling at his lip. You stroked his taut triceps, so round and firm beneath your fingers.

“I guess. But it’s not like I can’t take it anymore,” you smiled, and Javi brushed his lip with his tongue, as if he was ready to devour every inch of your body.

“Wanna check if our girl can go for another round, Joel?” Javi asked, and Joel sat up to take Javi’s place between your legs, mumbling a “yeah, lemme see,” that made you drool while Javi laid next to you and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Pussy’s so wet, Jesus…” Joel said when he pushed his fat cock in, sliding in easily. “Not just from our cum. I’m gonna put it back in, d’ya want that, sweetheart?”

“Fuck… yeah…” you whined, feeling his shaft filling your core so perfectly, the thought of him thrusting in both their seed making you arch your back and groan.

“So sensitive, baby… so fucking sweet and needy, Javi’s right,” he growled, gripping your hips, kneeled between your thighs, watching his thick cock slide in and out. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Javi start to jack off slowly, clearly enjoying this sharing vibe between the three of you. You smiled at him, before looking back at Joel.

“Balls soaked by you two, damn…” he hissed, thrusting in harder, then paused to spit on his cock and fucked it back in.

“Oh my god, Joel…” you whimpered.

“Yeah? Bet you’ll come when I touch your clit right now, won’t you, sweetheart?”

Javi leaned over, as if he wanted both of them to make you come, and pressing his head against Joel's crotch, circled your clit with his lips and sucked on it. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, pussy full of Joel’s cock brushing your spongy spot, Javi’s lips around your bud, and you came quickly on Joel's shaft. Joel’s and your fingers intertwined in Javi's messy hair.

“Squeezing me so goddamn hard, fuck…”

He pulled out and gripped the base to stop himself from coming as Javi manhandled you to lie down on him, your back against his chest. He slid his tip into your cunt, his fingers pressing on his shaft to keep it in, and you tightened around him.

“Fuck, she's still cuming,” he groaned.

He grabbed the back of your thighs and spread them wide, keeping you open for Joel’s sight. Hunger darkened his eyes as he watched your glistening pussy dripping cum and clenching around Javi’s tip.

Joel growled as he lay down, his large hands keeping you wide open, and you nearly fainted when you realized he was sliding his tongue from Javi's length to your clit. 

“Mierda,” (shit) Javi whimpered, before kissing your neck, just below your ear, knowing full well how much you loved being kissed here.

Joel's fingers brushed against your folds down to your friend’s tip, then he wrapped them around Javi's girth, licking pussy and cock, pulling it out lightly to slide his tongue from your friend’s crown to your folds. He licked up and down, again and again, his moustache and nose brushing against your clit.

“Oh fuck… the two of you are gonna kill me,” you whined, feeling a new climax already rising in your core. 

“Shit, I’m gonna come,” Javi growled, cupping your sweaty breasts in his hands and nibbling at your earlobe, then you heard him moan louder in the hollow of your ear and his cum spurted against your folds. Joel took him in his mouth, sucking on the tip, and you felt Javi shudder beneath you.

Joel sucked him clean, his eyes fixed on you, looking hotter than ever. Once done, he knelt back between your thighs, wiping his beard and mustache, and caressed your belly softly. 

“Gonna be right here in a minute, sweetheart. This is all for you,” he said, and you nodded. You couldn’t wait to feel him again. To feel him push in you, spreading your folds on his way. 

He took his time, feeling your stomach move up and down under his touch, then grasped your hip with one hand and lined his cock at your entrance, brushing against Javi's softened dick before pushing in.

“That's it,” he murmured, looking at your cunt swallowing him, clenching on him. “Taking me so well. Right, baby?”

You nodded, mind blank, unable to speak, watching drops of sweat beading at his hairline.

“You’re perfect, baby. Making us come, over and over,” Javi said, your back against his chest, his cock folded under Joel’s, the three of you a mess covered in cum and wetness.

“Your little pussy’s all swollen and aching, sweetheart… We’ll kiss it better soon. She’s so fucking pretty around my cock, covered in our cum,” Joel said, his eyes roaming over your spent body. He was so gorgeous, his muscles all tensed while rolling inside you, watching the way you were breathing and biting your lip.

Javi slid his fingers down to your clit and started rubbing it with his digit.

“You’re doing so good for us baby. So gorgeous, all spread out.”

“Are you gonna get wet tomorrow at work, sweetheart? Just thinking about how good we fucked?” Joel smirked, holding your hips firmly, pounding into you harder, chasing his orgasm, mubbling “god you're so fucking pretty” his cock slamming into your drooling cunt, while Javi’s pad was still on your clit, and you felt your climax rising, stronger and stronger under their touch, thrusts and words.

“You're taking him so well,” Javi whispered, playing with your hair and kissing your neck. “Doing so good, always so fucking good…” he added, his praise going right into your cunt.

“Fuck. Fuck! I’m gonna come. Fill me, Joel.”

“Yeah? Want me to shoot my load, keep you full of us? ‘M gonna give it to you. Just come on it, and I’ll fill you” he said, eyes locked into yours until you started coming, mouth wide open in a cry.

“That’s it baby, come on his cock. Keep taking it, just like that. Yeah, there you go,” Javi said, your legs shaking, inner thighs covered in cum and your slick. 

“Gonna fill you up. Now, look at me. Fuck… Look at me, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that. You feel so fucking good, yeah that’s it….” Joel groaned then whimpered when he started sending hot spurs of cum inside you, his hands squeezing your hips.

He stayed buried deep inside you, cock throbbing, until your cunt milked him dry, Javi murmuring “you’re perfect, you’re so perfect, baby,” against your skin, your body and mind so full of emotions and sensations that you were afraid you might cry.

Once his cock stopped twitching, Joel leaned forward and kissed you, his tongue sliding between your lips. You cupped his cheeks, your tongue teasing his.

He then pulled back and his thumb gently brushed your cheek.

“This was… amazing, sweetheart. So fucking good,” he said, his soft gaze locked with yours, then he looked at Javi and nodded.

He withdrew, his cum dripping from your pussy onto Javi’s cock and Joel went to get a towel to clean you both up.

“We need a shower,” Javi laughed.

“Yeah, come on. It’s big enough for the three of us,” Joel said, helping you up.

The hot water felt amazing against your bodies. Javi and Joel washed you, their four hands roaming over your body, sharing kisses here and there, with you or each other. You washed them too, taking the time to feel their skin and muscles under the tips of your fingers, your eyes moving from one man to the other, grateful for this moment full of sharing, full of trust, where everyone just wanted to make the others feel good. 

Javi knelt in front of you to wash your thighs and pressed soft kisses on your belly then your mound. You trembled. 

“I know, baby. I know. She’s sensitive. I just couldn’t resist, she’s so pretty. Like every inch of you,” he smiled at you before getting up.

“Are you going soft, Javi?” you asked mischievously.

“With you? Always,” he added, looking so pretty and tender that you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pressed yourself against him and kissed him while Joel was peppering kisses over your shoulder.

You had breakfast at Joel’s place, and they smiled, watching you devour every bite. 

“What?” you asked, mouth full. “You drained all my energy, I gotta get it back!”

“You’re not wrong,” Joel chuckled.

“So,” you started to say. “This was… unexpected,” you were twirling your fork between your fingers. “And maybe I’m still high from it, but… I’ll be honest, I hope this isn’t just a one-time thing. What do you guys think?” you asked, looking at them.

“You already know my answer, baby. I’m all in,” Javi replied. You smiled at him, then looked at Joel, unsure what he’d say about that.

He took his time, watching the two of you. Even grabbed a bite, then put down his fork.

“‘course I’m all in. I’d be a fool to say no to this pussy. And this cock,” he added, looking at Javi, who leaned back against his chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. He clasped his hands behind his head, full of self-confidence. So… Javi, right now. Your gorgeous, amazing best friend.

“Yeah, you’d be a fool, for sure,” he smirked and gave you a wink.

More Javi x reader x Joel: Blackmail series (different AU)

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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npt: tagging those who showed interest in the wip wednesday posts ❤️ @hanahleah @arcane-fox @iknowisoundcrazy @gutter-noise

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[time-for-my-weekly-spanking]

Safe - Younger!Sub!Harry Castillo x Curvy mistress!f!reader

Rating: +18, MDNI WC: 6,9k Summary: Harry brings you to the company party and finally gets a revenge on his asshole dad. You give him the best reward for finally being brave. Tags: Smut, fluff, dom/sub dynamic, fighting, struggling, unprotected p in v (as previously mentioned in Bunny, reader is on the pill and they both take blood tests once a month, be careful irl!!!), using of a dildo, using of a butt plug, mention of spanking (Harry’s favorite 😌), masturbation, teasing, dirty talking, pet names, reader calls Harry "bunny", Harry calls reader "ma'am", cum eating, doggy-style fucking, luxurious party, dancing, mention of alcohol, a lot of feelings, Harry has a terrible dad and he’s slightly younger in this (in his 30s), reader is the same age in my head, reader is not described except for being explicitly curvy, no use of Y/N, no kissing allowed between them (😌). A/N: part 2 of Bunny, I wrote this for the PPCU fandom writing challenge hosted by @pedroscurls , I’m sorry it took me so long to finish this 🥺 I really hope you like it, I love this version of Harry, he’s such a good boy 😌 Thanks to anyone who read the first part, I was so happy to see your fabulous response ♥️ Special thanks to @aurorawritestoescape for being my precious beta, you’re the best, babe! 🫂 English is not my first language, any mistake is still on me!

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Harry waited for you at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against his car.

The sun was setting, bathing everything in a pink and orange light.

He wanted to be casual, so he hadn't gone upstairs, but the cold air of the spring evening crept into his bones as he waited for you.

He looked up at the sound of your heels clicking on the concrete steps.

“Hey.” 

He raised his eyes and what he saw nailed him to the ground. 

Wrapped in a floor-length black lace dress, your hair pulled back, your makeup understated and elegant, you almost looked like a different person, yet at the same time you were so unmistakably you. 

His gaze glided over your curves, hugged by the dress, supple and soft, your skin smelled of coconut when you stepped close to greet him, and Harry felt his mouth water.

“Hey, bunny,” you whispered, pressing your lips against his cheek.

Harry whispered back, “You're beautiful,” as he looked at you, and saw your eyes light up and your smile widen.

“I'm not really used to wearing dresses like this, but I have to admit it's really pretty. Your assistant certainly has good taste,” you mused.

“I picked it out myself.” 

Your eyebrow raised, a smirk curving your lips.  “Yeah? You’re such a good boy” 

Your voice went straight to his cock, like always, like anything about you. 

You pinched his butt through his black tie suit pants while he was opening the car door for you and he almost tripped on the sidewalk at the unexpected provocation, a shiver of pleasure running down his spine.

“Maybe it’ll be better if you call me by my name during the party,” he said, trying to regain some semblance of balance, and you laughed, “Not my first ride, honey,” accompanying your sentence with a wink.

Nothing else existed for Harry anymore—not the sounds of traffic around him, not the chatter of people walking on the sidewalk on their way home from work, not even the cool breeze ruffling his hair.

The car ride was pleasant. 

Harry was completely captivated by you and for the first time, a work party didn’t feel like a death sentence to him. Even though you didn’t really know each other very well, he felt strangely safe with you next to him.

You were more talkative than usual and he was happy about that. The sound of your voice calmed him, and he hoped to learn more about you. 

“I saw you in the newspaper the other day.”

“I’m often in them,” Harry admitted, “much more than I’d like.”

“Hmm, well you looked cute in the pic. So… Mr. Castillo, huh? Are you a multimillionaire or something?”

Harry nodded, adding immediately afterward, “More than anything, it’s my father,” and he physically felt his mouth twist into a grimace, involuntarily, like an unconscious reflex. 

“You don’t like your father.” It wasn’t even a question; it was a statement. In a split second, you already understood him better than anyone else around him.

“Yeah,” he exhaled, gazing out the window. All around him was Manhattan—the traffic, the neon lights, the honking horns—everything moving swiftly, in a trail of light that shifted rapidly from yellow to green to red, fading into a buzzing cluster of lives.

“Typical,” you declared, your head nestled against the seat, one hand resting on your thigh, your fingers lazily tracing circles on the lace of your dress. 

You seemed relaxed, at ease. 

This wasn’t your first time with a guy of his kind, as you’d been careful to point out to him. You’d probably come across other frustrated guys before—millionaires’ heirs, tired and bored with their lives, or arrogant and conceited in the way that piles of money can make you.

“I'm curious to meet him, this famous dad,” you joked. 

“I don't think you'll like him,” he blurted out. “He's the biggest jerk I know.”

You smiled, your fingers brushing the lapel of his jacket, your voice confident. “I know how to deal with guys like that.”

The moment the car stopped, Harry felt a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

What would his father think when he saw you?

He helped you out of the car, taking your hand in his. 

The valet gave instructions to his driver, while you looked around beside Harry.

You seemed uncertain, almost intimidated for a moment, before straightening your back and looking him in the eye. 

“Okay, let's do this. I'm ready,” you said confidently. 

Harry smiled, it was the first time he'd seen even the slightest crack in your armor.

You climbed the stairs together, you holding onto his arm to avoid falling on the slippery marble steps that led to the entrance of the building.

As soon as you entered, a couple of waiters curtsied to Harry, as if he were some kind of royalty. He felt a certain uneasiness churning his stomach, he didn't want you to think he was pretentious, but everything around him only reminded you of how much money his family actually had. 

You walked down a wide corridor that led to the room where the party was being held, tapestries hanging on the walls, paintings worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, Persian rugs spread across the polished marble floor.

You looked around amused, noting a portrait of an old man “is he one of your ancestors or something?” mockingly winking to him and Harry laughed, the tension of his shoulders loosening up.

“I don’t know who he is and honestly, darling? I don’t care. He looks like another prick in a uniform.” 

You chuckled, agreeing with what he said, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment. “The first of many tonight, I understand.” 

“It’s a good thing I paid you, huh?”

“It really is, Mr Castillo” you whispered into his ear, so sweetly Harry thought for a moment about turning around and getting back to your place, entirely skipping the party.

He couldn’t though, he already confirmed his presence to his dad’s assistant a week ago.

Amidst soft chic lights, and ridiculous canapés served by waiters who efficiently moved around the room, tables draped in pristine tablecloths where bartenders served cocktails, huge crystal chandeliers that reflected the lights, and large stained-glass windows along the walls, reaching all the way up to the frescoed ceiling and with hundreds of people dressed in outfits worth thousands of dollars, Harry felt a knot in his stomach that was eased only by your hand clasping his. 

He had always belonged to that world, and yet he never stopped feeling like a fish out of water amid all that glitz.

Eating pizza out of a box with you while drinking beer straight from the bottle would have been a far more appealing prospect for him. 

He took you to the bar, offered you a drink, trying to put off as long as possible the moment when he would have to say hello to his father. 

He wanted it to be worth it for you, he wanted you to have fun. 

There was a small band playing live music, and Harry asked you for a dance. 

Holding you close amidst all those people, seeing your eyes sparkle as you looked at him, your amused smile as you were moving to the tune of an old classic—it was making it all worth it for him. 

Your hand rested discreetly on his shoulder, but at one point you leaned close to his ear and whispered, “I’m having fun, thank you. You deserve a special treat tonight.”

Harry felt his face flush as he replied, “Thank you, ma’am.”

You giggled so tenderly, you seemed so into it, genuinely thrilled to be there with him, you had your eyes fixed on him as if no one else in the room mattered, and to Harry, it almost felt as if you were truly his. 

Harry knew it would never be possible; he was well aware that you were there because of money and the dress he bought you, and he remembered clearly every time you had told him you didn’t want a boyfriend. Yet, feeling his body brush against yours, seeing your radiant face, a part of him still held out hope that perhaps you might feel the same way. 

He hoped that at some point you’d tell him you wanted to be his girlfriend; he hoped to take you on vacation to Italy, to walk hand in hand with you through the streets of Florence, to show you the Uffizi, and to watch the sunset with you from the top of Piazzale Michelangelo. 

He dreamed of taking you to Rome, of seeing your amazed expression in front of a Caravaggio, of having dinner with you in a small osteria, drinking wine and eating pasta.

His mind kept wandering, filling up with so many impossible fantasies.

“So, are you going to introduce me to this famous father of yours?”

Your question crushed him back down to earth. 

The moment Harry stepped right in front of him, his father looked you up and down, his contempt clear.

His face said, “Who on earth is this?” as you held out your hand to him, smiling, proud in your posture and demeanor, stunning, radiant, wrapped in your dress that made you look like a goddess. 

His fifth wife, a 25-year-old size-zero model with a haughty air, greeted you both, then immediately excused herself to go gossip with some tycoon’s wife. 

His father didn’t seem impressed, not in the slightest. 

Mr. Castillo Sr. was trying to make you feel uncomfortable, as he always did when he didn’t like someone.

You told him your name, and Harry easily recognized the look of disgust on his father’s face—a barely perceptible twitch of the lips that said, “You don’t belong here.”

That was always what his father had been. A man whose millions made him believe he was better than others, a man of facades and pretense, a man for whom good appearances were the same as being good.

Harry felt anger rising in his chest, not only because of how his father was treating you, but also—and above all—because in that moment he truly realized how much he had allowed his father to control him, to impose his expectations without the slightest regard for the person his son actually was.

 It didn’t matter; all that mattered was that Harry acted as a calling card for him. Perfectly printed, with clean edges, no smudges, pre-set fonts on thick, expensive paper that clearly showed who his father was.

Never Harry.

And while he was used to being treated like that, seeing his father use the same tactics he’d used on him against someone else was driving him crazy. 

His father kept bombarding you with a thousand questions—where you were from, what you did for a living—in a way that was clearly meant to make you feel uncomfortable. 

How could he have thought he’d win? 

In some sort of way, he hoped to have a little revenge on his dad, parading you out to the ultra formal company party. 

And now he was ashamed. And the greatest shame was having put you in that situation.

Harry took your hand, as if to say silently, “We shouldn't be here. I'm sorry.” And you squeezed it.

He had been watching his father the whole time, his mind filled with thoughts of how he’d want to see one of those pathetic canapés get stuck in his throat, and when he looked back at you, he saw you looking calm. Completely unshaken by the disgusting behavior of the man with whom he had the misfortune of sharing his genetic makeup.

“Not my first ride,” you told him. 

“I know how to deal with a guy like that.” 

And Harry knew you had meant every single word. 

“Have we met before?” his dad pressed. 

“I don't think so,” you replied calmly.

Because right after that, in a voice loud enough for him to hear but at the same time quiet enough to be discreet, you added, “Unless you like being spanked, sir.”

All the commotion in the room—people exchanging pleasantries, clinking glasses, background music—all of it reached Harry’s ears as if muffled.

This was the second time you’d had this effect on him, making everything else but you disappear. As  if only you truly mattered—like a sound his brain really needed to register.

Harry tried to hold back his reaction, but a smirk danced on his lips, tempting him like the devil.

His father was livid, visibly furious, cornered as he struggled to contain his reaction so as not to make a fool of himself in front of the millionaire investors and other wealthy guests who had flocked to his glamorous party.

And there you were, as serene as ever, with a neutral, courteous expression, as if you hadn't said a word. 

There was a slight twitch at the corners of your mouth, a tiny flinch of your cheekbone, but other than that? Your expression gave nothing away, and perhaps that was what was bothering Harry’s father the most. He loved to belittle others and wanted them to care; he wanted to feel that power clenched in his hands. Nothing gave him more satisfaction than knowing he held the strings of everything tightly in his fist. And there you were, reminding him that he couldn’t bend everyone to his will. That there was someone who didn’t give a damn about what Castillo Senior thought was appropriate.

No matter how much the ground seemed to be falling out from under Harry’s feet, no matter how much he regretted bringing you there, there was a warmth in his heart now.

He had never felt so proud to be close to someone as he did when he was with you at that moment.

“What?! How dare you?!” His father grabbed Harry by the sleeve, pulling him close, and hissed right in his face “You brought a slut to my party?” 

Harry couldn’t take it anymore. 

Calling you a whore was the last straw. 

“We're leaving,” he said, pulling his sleeve out of his father's grip “and don't expect me at work on Monday—I quit.”

And then he did the unthinkable. 

He spit right in his dad’s face. 

A globe of saliva landed on his cheek and he froze. Stunned. 

His wide-open eyes and gaping mouth made him look like a fish gasping for air. 

It was the last thing he expected from his son—and from Harry himself, for that matter—but the satisfaction Harry felt in that moment was second only to the day he’d met you.

The truth was that Harry had never believed he could do it because when you get used to feeling considered a waste of space sooner or later you end up convincing yourself that you really are. Only now he was beginning to understand that he deserved better, that all the money in the world would never give him the inner security that he saw within you instead.

He took you by the hand and led you out of the room, even as you protested that you could easily stand up to that asshole. 

He turned to look at you just outside the room. “I know. I know you can put him in his place, but there’s no need for you to do that. That man is wicked, far more than you saw tonight, I assure you. And there’s no need for you to deal with him anymore, and you know what? Same for me.”

He felt tears stinging his eyes. For the first time since he was born, he had rebelled against the man who had fathered him. He had gotten the courage to quit his job. On one hand, he felt that his life had truly just begun; on the other, the realization that he had finally broken free from his father’s shadow paralyzed him. He leaned against the wall, repeating to himself, “Damn, I really did it,” under your worried gaze. 

You brought a hand to his face, caressing his cheek. “I know it’s scary.” 

He turned his gaze to you, sweet and reassuring, as you whispered that everything would be all right. 

He relished the tender touch of your palm on his skin, murmuring “I’m so glad you’re here. I feel safe with you.”

“I know, baby, it’s okay. Let’s go back to my place.”

Harry didn't hesitate to follow you. The noise of the party faded behind him, growing fainter and fainter, until it seemed insignificant. 

The drive home felt longer than Harry could remember; as the car drew nearer, he felt a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. 

Fear, but also excitement about what the future might hold for him. 

He had his savings set aside, a sort of a safety net that would give him some time to experiment and discover who he truly wanted to be. It wasn’t his father’s billions, but it was still a considerable sum. 

He had the house, registered in his name, and a small cottage in Connecticut that he’d bought as an investment and rented out to other bored rich people who wanted to escape the hectic life of New York. 

He was still richer than most people. 

He cursed himself for waiting so long before doing what he really wanted.

But maybe he had to meet you before realizing he was tired of being bossed around by his family. The only one who gave him pleasure when you did it was you. 

Now he knew for sure. And suddenly, as he looked at your face in the dim light, your gaze fixed on the view outside the window, he felt terribly sad at the thought that sooner or later it would all come to an end. 

You turned toward him, sliding your hand across the leather seat, taking his fingers in yours, and whispering, “I’m so proud of you”—and his heart skipped a beat. 

Once inside your house, Harry didn’t wait for you to tell him before loosening the tie that was choking him and unbuttoning the top buttons of the pristine white shirt he was wearing under his tuxedo. 

As you made your way toward the bedroom you used with him, your catlike steps echoing down the hallway, you turned for a moment to glance at him over your shoulder. “Sure, get rid of those things—you won’t need them much longer anyway.”

That made him smile; you accepted this little act of defiance on his part so willingly, understanding his frustration.

You probably understood even better now where he was coming from. You were smart, much sharper than that idiot of a father of his could ever have imagined. And you knew how to read people. 

In the weeks leading up to the party, he’d visited you often, and sometimes you’d lingered for a little chat after the sessions, before kissing him on the cheek and holding out your hand to receive your payment.

The marks usually faded within a week, but the one you’d left on Harry’s heart was still bright red, throbbing, hot, and no soothing cream would be enough to make it go away.

Submitting to you had set him free.

You weren’t indifferent to how your behavior might make him feel; you weren’t thinking only of yourself. You were focused on him and his reactions every time you interacted—far more so than anyone else ever had been. And this was perhaps the closest thing to love that Harry had ever experienced.

“Sit on the bed,” you said as soon as you walked into the room. 

Harry obeyed, feeling as if he were floating in a dream. 

You stood in front of him. His eyes slid from your slender ankles in a pair of sky-high black heels up the lace of your dress that hugged your curves, your hips, your soft belly, your firm, full breasts, all the way to the sweetheart neckline that accentuated your collarbones and further up your neck and the line of your jaw. His gaze lingered on your open, sincere smile, with a mischievous touch that slightly curled your upper lip, and your deep, piercing eyes.

There was something so magnetic about you that Harry still hadn’t quite figured out. He knew everyone had been staring at you at the party, he’d felt their unworthy eyes scrutinizing you, probably thinking petty things you didn’t deserve, because it was as clear as day that you didn’t belong with that kind of people or in that kind of situation. You were so much better than them.

“Take off your jacket,” you ordered. 

Just as he slipped off his black Tom Ford jacket, he watched you reach for the back of your dress and heard the zipper slide down slowly.

“The shirt,” you continued, stepping out of your heels. 

Harry began impatiently undoing the buttons, and you scolded him, “Slow down, bunny. Breathe.”

His nervous fingers stopped. 

“Breathe,” you said again, “let out that frustration bubbling inside you.” 

Harry felt his lungs fill with air and let it out, once, twice; he inhaled and exhaled, and his eyes closed at your command. 

“Relax. I’ll take care of you now.”

He had never felt so taken seriously. 

He felt his body unwind, the weight on his shoulders lighten, the lump in his throat loosen, his hands finally calm.

Guided by your warm voice, he focused on those sensations, clearly feeling every cell of his settling down.

When he opened his eyes again, your dress was unzipped halfway down your back, and your hair was falling over your shoulders, free from the elaborate style you’d worn at the party.

You were even more beautiful in your element. 

“Nice work,” you praised him, “now take off that shirt.”

Harry stood shirtless, under your watchful gaze as it scanned every detail of him that you must have come to know so well by now. 

He felt his nipples harden and his lips curve into a smile as you slipped out of your dress, revealing the black Agent Provocateur lingerie set he’d had delivered along with the dress.

When he’d chosen it, he’d hoped he’d gotten the size right. 

He noted with some satisfaction that it hugged your breasts perfectly as they stood proudly encased in the finely crafted lace. 

His mouth watered at the sight of the delicate embroidered bow in the center.

He wanted to press his lips against it, to smell your sweet scent, to feel your soft skin against his cheek. 

He did nothing. He waited. He felt his breath in his chest struggling to stay quiet.

He saw the look of satisfaction light up in your eyes as you asked him, “So, do you like it?” while one of your fingers slowly traced the edge of your panties.

“Yes” he nodded, immediately “You’re gorgeous, ma’am.”

“I saw a whole new side of you tonight,” you teased him. “Who knew you could be so assertive, bunny.”

“I—” Harry began hesitantly, but you cut him off right away. 

“You don't have to explain yourself. He deserved it.”

Harry nodded, smiling at you. 

“Maybe you are a little bratty, after all,” you chuckled. 

“Maybe,” he agreed. You seemed intrigued, and Harry thought he saw a certain pride in your expression, which delighted him. 

“Mmm, if you do that to me, you’ll be punished, you know that, right?”

Harry felt a rush of heat rise from the pit of his stomach. Oh, he was sure he could accept your punishments—in fact, he was eager to do so.

His hands were still shaking as he recalled a few nights earlier, when you’d used a big pad with “bunny” written on it.

Somewhere on his ass cheek, the writing was fading. He’d seen it in the mirror that evening, right after getting out of the shower. 

So yes, not only had he gone to his father’s party with you, but he’d done so with the marks of your spankings still clearly visible under his tuxedo.

Everything he had done that evening was incredible and tasted of freedom. 

He was over thirty and had finally found the courage to tell his father exactly what he thought of him. Better late than never.

“Yes, ma’am” he replied and he felt his cheeks burn. He could feel his cock getting hard under his tuxedo pants.

 And you noticed, too. 

“Get rid of those,” you said, pointing at his pants. 

He took them off before you had to ask again. Maybe there really was a bit of a brat in him somewhere, but this wasn't the time to show it. 

Not when he wanted you so badly.

“Good boy,” you cooed, clicking your tongue, and added, “Well, look at that… someone’s already hard.”

His cock was pointing straight at you, hidden only by his boxers.

You eyed him from head to toe, one hand resting on your hip, a smug little smile on your face, tapping your heel on the floor.

“How much do you want me?” you asked, and Harry couldn't help but say,

“Oh ma'am, I want you so badly.”

You lifted your chin, giving him an authoritative look. 

“Not yet. Sit back down on the bed.”

As soon as Harry obeyed, you sat on his thighs, keeping your distance from his cock.

Your fingers slowly traced a path from his wrist up to his shoulder, first on one side and then the other. 

Harry swallowed a moan of protest, trying to focus on the sensation of your polished nails scratching his skin.

His hands moved instinctively toward your hips, but you rebuked him immediately. 

“You know the rules. You can’t touch me until I tell you to.”

Harry’s hands fell back onto the bed; he clenched the sheets, trying to fill them with something, to quell that need to hold you tight that had overwhelmed his senses. 

Your nails made their way across his chest, down to his stomach, and then to the left until they reached his side, where you pinched him. 

Harry bit his lower lip, closing his eyes, letting you do it. Immediately after, he felt your lips caress his neck, gently, slowly, along his pulse point.

“Mmm, you smell so good,” you whispered before biting down on the soft skin below his ear. 

Harry gasped, feeling his body tense as you licked the spot you’d bitten.

“Good boy, bunny… stay still for your mistress.”

Your fingers teased his happy trail, moving up and down in an agonizing yet delightful way.

You pulled down his boxers just enough to expose his cock, and it stood erect between your bodies.

Harry was impossibly stiff, so much so that it hurt, and he couldn't say how much longer he could hold out.

He almost lost it when your hand slid between you, stopping just an inch from its tip. You didn’t touch it, you left it suspended in the air, moving it slowly in a circle, as if you were about to touch it at any moment, and you watched him squirm so intensely while your gaze never left his. No hesitation, complete control of your body, and the promise of a touch that never came. 

Harry was entranced, completely captivated, his body was screaming for attention, his tip was swollen and red, and precum was dripping down his shaft.  

“Let's see if you can wait a little bit longer,” you whispered against his skin and then you got up and walked over to the table where you kept your toys.

Harry could feel the blood boiling in his veins, he wanted to scream, he wanted to beg you, but he knew the rules and knew that the reward would come if he behaved himself. He couldn’t help but let out a moan as he watched your hips sway in front of the table while you were busy with your toys.

His legs were shaking, his heart was pounding in his chest like a hammer, and he could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Finally, you picked up a suction-cup dildo. You moved closer to him, sliding it along his jawline, all the way to his mouth. 

“Suck it, bunny. Make it nice and wet for me.”

Harry was hesitant, his lips trembling at the rubber tip. Finally, he opened his mouth under your commanding gaze.

The tip slid over his tongue, all the way in. 

He had never sucked a cock in his life, real or toy.

He didn’t mind the feeling of his mouth full; it was a little uncomfortable, but his jaw adjusted easily after a while as you pushed it in and out of his lips. 

“That’s it, keep going,” you encouraged him. “Drool all over it.”

Harry could feel his saliva pooling around the toy; he could feel the tip pushing almost all the way down his throat. “No teeth, baby,” you warned him, and he tucked them behind his lips before sucking again. A trickle of spit ran down his chin as you kept fucking his mouth, slow and relentless, the dildo clenched in your palm.

He was breathing heavily through his nose and could feel his lungs running low on air, but he didn’t stop until you pulled it out with a satisfied click of your tongue. 

You looked at him with satisfaction, praising him, “Great job, bunny,” and your thumb wiped his saliva from his lower lip.

He watched you walk away again and let out a grunt of disapproval, and he grew even more frustrated when he saw you slip off your bra and your panties, revealing your neatly trimmed bush to his eyes. 

He would have given anything to bury his face in your pussy.

You fixed the dildo to the wall opposite the bed, in front of him, next to the door and Harry wondered how much longer he’d have to endure before he felt the warmth of your body again. 

You didn’t seem inclined to give it to him easily tonight, and deep down, he liked that. 

He loved how you pushed him past his limits, how you took your time and teased him, making him feel that everything you did was worth the wait. You made him feel wanted and desired by not letting your games end too quickly.

He gasped as you lowered yourself onto the dildo, letting it slide all the way into you with a moan.

You started moving up and down on that bright pink silicone rod; Harry could clearly see the toy appearing and disappearing between your folds. 

He was losing his mind. 

The squelching sound of you fucking yourself against the wall was filling his ears along with your moans and your incessant teasing of him, 

“Like what you see, bunny? You want to fill me up, huh? Take this dildo's place and stuff me with your cock?”

Harry tried to move his hand toward his aching erection to get some relief, but you scolded him, and his palm went back down onto the bed.

Your juices were now flowing heavily onto the dildo as you moved your voluptuous hips in circles, two fingers rubbing your clit and one hand clutching your breast, pinching one of your nipples.

“Mmm, that feels so good.”

You were on the verge of coming, and Harry knew it; by now he knew every moan you made, every expression that crossed your face, how you threw your head back and closed your eyes, he could have sworn he’d never tire of watching you like that. 

“Watch me come,” you whispered before picking up the pace on the dildo and the fingers on your clit, which was now moving furiously, rubbing it convulsively.

Your skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat that glistened in the dim light of the room, your wet bush and your swollen, soaking folds greedily sucked the dildo all the way in.

The moment you closed your eyes, Harry disobeyed. He’d never done it before, but he felt like he was about to explode. A hand flew to his cock, jerking it a couple of times.

“Just a little,” he thought 

“I can stop,” he lied to himself.

When his palm wrapped around his cock, he felt he was at the point of no return. 

It was too much. Your naked body so far away from him, your breasts bouncing with the force of your thrusts, your spread and dripping pussy, your hips writhing—he couldn’t take it a minute longer, no matter how hard he tried.

He knew he would suffer the consequences. But after all, even those were sweet to him, since they came from you.

You opened your eyes just as your orgasm was subsiding and thundered, “Harry! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Harry stopped just short of his climax and looked at you with pleading eyes.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “You’re so beautiful, I… I can’t… I just can’t.”

You calmly slid off the dildo, unhooking it from the wall and leaving it standing on the dresser, still coated with your juices. 

Harry’s heart was in his throat as you approached him with slow, deliberate steps. 

One of your hands cupped his cheek while the other slid down to your folds.

Harry watched in ecstasy as you gathered your juices with two fingers, then brought them close to his mouth. 

“Suck them clean,” you ordered, shoving your fingers into his mouth. 

Your taste spread across his tongue as he sucked obligingly and greedily. 

He moaned when your fingers reached almost to the back of his throat. 

The satisfaction etched on your face made him hope you would forgive him.

His cock stood between you, still stiff and throbbing, and suddenly your hand left his cheek to slap it.

A quick blow to the shaft that made him almost sink his teeth into your fingers.

“Bad boy,” you hissed, “that's not what I taught you.”

The pain radiated across his belly, rising up to his stomach, and soon faded into a pleasant tingling. 

Sharp but sweet, just like you.

“Is this the day of rebellion?” you demanded, pinching his chin between two fingers and forcing him to look you in the eye. A mischievous smile played on your lips. 

You weren't angry. 

“I have to admit, I'm proud of you. The first time you came here, you were afraid of your own shadow.”

Harry knew he had changed, and it was thanks to you, too. 

You had given him the clarity and willpower needed to see things from a different perspective.

“So... do you want to fuck me right now?”

Harry had never nodded so quickly.

“I don't know if you deserve it.”

“Please, ma’am”

You looked at the way his cock bobbed when you lowered yourself to kiss him on his forehead. 

You seemed willing. 

“Okay...” you conceded, “but on one condition.”

Harry agreed immediately. “Anything, ma’am.”

You smiled, letting go of his chin and turning your back on him to head back toward the dresser. 

You picked up a butt plug and a bottle of lube.

“You’ll wear this while you fuck me.” 

 Harry had hesitated the first few times you’d suggested it. After some discussion and a few attempts with your fingers, he’d agreed to try some small plugs, and he had to admit that, with a generous dose of lube and your patience and gentleness, he was starting to like it. You’d used other plugs on him, but Harry had never seen this one. This one was bigger.

A shiver of pleasure ran down his spine, and he felt his cheeks flush as you approached, wiggling it between your fingers. 

“It arrived in the mail the other day,” you told him, biting your lip, “and frankly… I couldn’t wait to try it.”

Harry was equally amused and aroused.

He wouldn’t have done it for anyone else but you.

You told him to get on all fours on the bed, and once he was in position, he felt your fingers gently caressing his hole. 

“Relax, bunny,” you reassured him as your finger lingered at the opening without entering. You slid it in slightly, and Harry let out a sigh, trying to focus on the sensations.

He felt you squeeze out a generous amount of lube and felt your fingers, coated in the cool gel, slide in slowly, just the tip at first. 

“Everything okay?” you asked, and Harry nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”

You stimulated the area a little more before sliding a bit deeper, gently stretching him.  

When Harry felt ready enough, he whispered, “I think I’m ready.”

“Good boy,” you praised him, one hand running down his back.

You picked up the plug again and coated it with more lube, then began slowly inserting it into him. 

Harry felt himself filling up inch by inch as the cold metal slid inside him. 

“Almost there,” you reassured him, “you’re doing great.”

Harry felt proud to please you. Everything he’d agreed to try, you’d guided him through calmly, letting him get used to it—firm but gentle—and this had allowed him to explore many things he’d never considered before and to discover new forms of pleasure.

“Okay...you’re set,” you said to him with a playful tone. 

Harry got up and knelt on the bed. 

It was a strange feeling but the sensation of fullness was pleasant, and when you moved it around a bit, thrusting deeply a couple of times, all the uncertainty faded away, overshadowed by the excitement.

“Oh…oh,” he stammered “fuck this is…”

“Great, isn’t it?” You purred, lowering yourself towards him, grazing the shell of his ear with your tongue. 

“Yeah…”

His cock was still incredibly hard as a rock, and by now Harry felt that if he didn't have you right away, he'd go out of his mind.

“You want to shove that big cock of yours in my cunt, huh? ” You asked and Harry begged. 

He begged hard “Please ma’am. I need to feel you… I need it so bad.”

You climbed onto the bed, and this time you were the one getting on all fours in front of him. Your ass swayed before his eyes, you arched your back, your pussy open and eager before his eyes. 

“Take me,” you ordered “fuck me hard, bunny. I know you can.”

Your folds were still soaking wet, and Harry had no trouble sliding inside you. 

With every inch he entered, he felt the plug stretch him a little more.

The sensation of filling you while he himself was filled was inconceivable; he had never felt this way before that moment. 

It was like being subjugated and subjugating at the same time, a precarious and delicate balance between domination and submission that made his head spin. 

Yes, you were on all fours for him at that moment, but you had made sure to remind him who was in charge.

“Oh God… oh my God,” he whispered, clinging to your hips to steady himself, feeling your walls welcome him and pull him in. 

“Fill me, Harry, all the way,” you urged him.

When he began to move, his fingers dug into your flesh, gripping your plump hips with both hands; with every thrust, he felt himself plunging deeper and deeper, sweat beading on his back and forehead. 

You moaned like a woman possessed beneath him, slamming your ass against his groin, his balls slapping against you.

“Fuck,” he groaned “I don't think I can hold out much longer.”

It was overwhelming. All of it. 

The plug filling him, his cock pressing against your sweet spot, your sweaty body shaking with each thrust. It was a dizzying sensation that blurred his vision and dulled his hearing; it was a pleasure that shook him from the tips of his toes to the tips of his hair.

His cock throbbed violently and after a few seconds he shot his load deep inside you.

He kept thrusting into you until he felt you tense up and then scream as you came; you slumped onto the bed, clutching the sheets with your hands, your hair tousled across the bed, as you writhed wildly beneath him.

You collapsed onto the bed and brushed your hair away from your face. Harry lay down beside you, after removing the plug and tossing it on the floor. 

A few seconds later, you turned toward him, moving closer and nestling against his chest.

“You've been so good for me,” you purred, leaving a kiss on his peck and then looking up at him. 

Your eyes were hazy and tired, but happy.

 Harry felt he had everything he needed right there in his arms, and without thinking, he kissed you on the lips.

You didn’t scold him, you didn’t protest, you didn’t try to push him away.

You leaned into the kiss, running a hand through his curls.

 Harry had never been so happy in his entire life. He didn’t dare say anything or ask you anything, he simply savored the kiss, sucking your soft lower lip between his own, feeling your tongue exploring his mouth.

It was an evening full of triumphs—the first in a very, very long time. Perhaps, deep down, you were starting to see him as more than just a client.

And he was even more surprised when you whispered to him, “I don't want any money tonight.”

Npt for the people who loved Bunny: @milla-frenchy @baronessvonglitter @mcthsman @rosharanfiction @morriggannlostinfandoms @doveloveloser @mothmanuwu @brittmb115 @speaktothehandpeasants @lilynotdilly @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @missadangel @simpingforjoel @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @readingiskeepingmegoing @mabelmiller @indiegirlunited @joelmillerspnk

People who showed interest in the WIP when I posted it: @peepawmiller @dreamedaboutitinthedark @sawymredfox

thank you so much for reading! ❤️

[hauntedinkk]

in honour of it being pride month, I thought I would create a little fic recs list of my favourite LGBTQ+ fics for you guys to enjoy!!

gay fics:

untitled by @oldmanpounder (fucking joel in an extremely risky building, putting him into a mating press in the cramped janitors closet and fucking his brains out, ripping several orgasms from him all while he has to stay quiet)

something new by @prowlpascal (During an argument with Joel you pull his hair, he finds out something new about himself)

construction corner by @for-a-longlongtime (Joel jerking it to gay porn for the first time... that's it.)

the ambassador can wait by @milla-frenchy (the tension between the two DEA agents reaches its peak)

tainted love by @miss-oranje-disco-dancer (steve can't sleep and he's keeping javi up, so they have to jerk off)

transgender fics:

guys by @qveerthe0ry (Joel exploring his newly found attraction to men (bi Joel is so dear to me) and quickly finding out that he’s so *incredibly* sensitive and needy when his ass is being played and toyed with)

the way you do by @sp00kymulderr (There's nothing frantic, nothing feral about this. It's a practice in worship, in reverence. (or: Joel sucks the strap and oh boy does he love it)

bisexual fics:

awakening by @time-for-my-weekly-spanking (When you join Joel, Tess, and Tommy, you shake Joel to his core. But he may not be the only one awakened by your presence.)

shirt on by @time-for-my-weekly-spanking (You peg Joel wearing his plaid shirt.)

lesbian fics:

birthday by @alloftheimagines Can I request something for Tess?! Something domestic with hurt/comfort and I little bit of smut if you are comfortable with it, I just LOVE your writing and I know that you would do an amazing job 🥺)

parker ellis who keeps the strap on at all times by @tresleches333

time apart by @b3ttybattz (you went to a conference for a couple days. Parker missed you and couldn't wait to show you just how much.)

doctors orders; no touching by @snowseasonss (Doctor’s orders say no sex until you heal… which becomes you and your girlfriend's least favorite rule to follow.)

non binary fics:

too much holiday by @whatsnewalycat

coming by @whatsnewalycat (He knows that you can't take your eyes of him in that outfit. "You're staring, baby." As if he isn't giving you elevator eyes himself, flirting with you to come give in to him.)

wanna be felled by you, held by you by @seventeenpins (Joel has always issues with relinquishing control. Time in the safety and community of Jackson has changed him, though, and he wants to give all his control to you, let you pull him apart.)

[mysticynix]

galaxy’s best bounty hunter got caught up😳😳

[kokoluwie]

"Listen, at least on the first take, the notes, they can get a little physical." ꒷꒦⌖

[midnights-temptation]

Ideal partner traits

Dark brown eyes with a puppy dog look

A broad back

Intelligent

Competent

Kind

Loyal, especially to friends prone to poor decision-making

Supportive

The PEK™

Passionate

Dark curls peeking out from underneath a standard cap

A broad back

Tactical genius

Skilled sniper

Expert pilot

Thick fingers

Tummy view from underneath a tac vest

BDE (Accurate)

A healthy supply of zip ties

Thick, pouty lips

A broad back

Tight khakis

Goes by the call sign 'Catfish'

Full government name is Francisco Morales

[gutter-noise]

I just wanted to see these images together. For research.......

[300mirrors]