tags: game joel or hbo joel as always, jackson! joel, a little kitten/daddy play, fauxcest?, darkish joel, bratty! reader, outbreak au, ellie doesn't exist, age gap (20s x 50s), a little spanking(s), slight choking, oral (f and m receiving)
word count: 2,409
summary: it’s bedtime and you hide from joel, not wanting to go to sleep, and joel has just the thing to tire you out...
a/n: here's something for you little nasty sluts. enjoy! (also thank you for the support on the foot fetish one shot i love yall's replies/reblogs LMAO)
"kitten." it no longer came out as a question after the first two times. it was time for bed, and you didn't want to go to sleep just yet, so you were currently hiding behind the closed-in desk that was in the small office of the house in jackson. joel looked everywhere for you, but he wasn't worried about your whereabouts. you recently found that you liked to hide from him when you weren't sleepy.
his heavy boots thudded up the stairs and along the hallway before halting. his eyes drifted to the open office door, pointing his good ear to the room to listen for any sounds before entering. you tried to control your breathing, hoping it wasn't noticeable.
joel's eyes darted around the room. nobody under the covers.
with a groan, he kneeled down with a hand atop the bed to look under the bedframe to no avail.
but in the cramped space you were in, what was supposed to be a slight adjustment turned into your elbow thumping the wood of the desk.
he slowly stood up, dark amusement written all over his features as he softly walks behind the desk. leaning forward, he plants his hands on the desk before curling his fingers of his right one, knocking on the wood three times. the fact that you could see his heavy, brown work boots right there made your breath speed up.
"you playin' hide n seek, kitten?" he speaks into the air, with a stern edge to his tone. when he doesn't receive an answer, his fingers grip the chair hiding most of your view , pulls it out, and slowly sits down in it. his knees, along with his elbows that rested on them, were eye level to you, then he cocked his head to the side, leaning down to make eye contact with you.
"hi, baby." he greets like he hasn't just caught you trying to evade going to bed at a reasonable time. your mouth opened and closed, avoiding looking into his eyes as your nightgown suddenly became very interesting.
"hi, daddy." you say, shyness and a hint of fear evident in your voice.
joel's gaze didn't soften. "hm." he simply hummed, his eyes dragging across your face deliberately, taking in the way you wouldn't look at him. the way your fingers picked and twisted at the hem of your nightgown.
nervous.
good.
"thought you could hide from me?" he asked quietly. he didn't sound angry, but calm. which was worse. shaking your head quickly, knowing you did the exact opposite of what he was asking you. his hand moved, unhurriedly, reaching it out towards you, wanting to pull you out from underneath the desk and into the light of the lamp lit room. you hesitantly took his hand, the rough skin of his hands such a contrast to yours.
those same hands that saved you from the raiders in the woods a couple months back. he had been watching you for days, intrigued by your white frilly dresses and hopeful eyes that were filled with naivety. after taking you back to jackson and taking you in, he quickly learned how compliant you were, having been raised by an elderly lady for most of your life.
all the townspeople thought it was so sweet how you called him 'daddy', but that name had a completely different meaning behind closed doors. he wasn't exactly sure why at first, but lately, you haven't been being the sweet girl you usually are.
having a little attitude with him, talking back, questioning his authority. so much so that he had enough of it one day, so he took it upon himself to bend you over his lap on the bed and laying harsh spanks on your bare cheeks with his huge hands, and it was somehow worse than the belt. but since you took the punishment so well, he brought you to a slow, pulsating orgasm with two of his thick fingers that brushed against your g-spot the whole time.
with the threat of the winter storm coming up, tommy's been ordering more patrol runs, and since joel was one of their best men, he had been away from you for longer periods of time, often cutting into your scheduled playtimes. but you never disobeyed his rule: only daddy can say if you can touch yourself.
"then why're 'ya hidin' from me, huh?" you hesitated again, your eyes dropping and shoulders sagging as if trying to make yourself smaller. you were still kneeling on the floor, but this time between his spread legs. "i'm not sleepy." you softly admitted.
joel was quiet for a moment after. "not sleepy." he repeated your answer, testing the words out and turning them over inside his head. his thumb and index finger gripped your chin, lifting your gaze up to meet his. "look at me."
"i know i've been gone a few days," he says a bit quieter now, breathing through his nose. "and i come back," he continued while his thumb brushed along your lips. "and all of a sudden, you don't feel like listenin' to your old man."
your breath hitches as he pushes your chin up a bit higher, an action of control. "i...i do listen, daddy" you said quickly, it was almost instinctive and to this, his eyebrows raise just barely. "d'ya?" he said with purposeful uncertainty. your lips parted, but no words came out. joel hummed, expecting your silence.
"'cause kitten, it sure don't look that way." he murmured, massaging his aching joints in his hand, eyes still on you between his legs. "first you start talkin' back to me, rollin' your eyes, now you're hidin' from me." he stops talking, leaning back against the cushioned back of the chair. "don't like that."
"i'm sorry, daddy." you were quick to apologize, genuine regret displayed on your face.
"yea, i know 'ya are. stand up." the command came out even and low, making your breath catch in your throat at the thought of another spanking on your sensitive cheeks. "no, please daddy! please don't spank me again?" you plead, your eyebrows furrowed together in fear as your knees began to straighten while you nevertheless obeyed his command.
joel's hand moved to your waist as he walked himself and the chair forward, the wheels rolling with his force, caging you between the desk and him. "get up on here." he pats the surface of the desk with one hand right next to your hip. just for a second, you hesitated, but the squeeze of his hand on your waist warned you not to disobey. you cautiously climbed back up onto the desk, the cool wood against the backs of your thighs as you do so.
it was wide enough to where your head wasn't hanging off the edge. as you laid on your back, you kept your knees together and your hands shyly covering your exposed panties since your nightgown had slightly bunched up.
he scooted up closer, his hands moving to gently spread your legs apart. "show daddy." your legs fall apart at his words, his lips pressing against your hands, kissing them out of the way. as he kisses your hip bones and thighs, he tugs your panties down and off of you, stuffing them in his shirt pocket.
he positions his head between your legs, warm breath hitting right against your center. "will 'ya be a good girl and let your daddy eat your pussy?" you take in a deep breath at the question, mind turning to mush as you nod feverishly.
"no. tell me. say, 'yes daddy, please eat my pussy.'" he sternly says, gripping the back of your thighs.
"y-yes daddy. please eat my pussy?" you blankly repeated his words so sweetly. his fingers graze over your stomach. his mouth opens, allowing his tongue to lick a slow, hot stripe up your folds. your body tenses up at his warm, wet muscle invading all of your senses. his tongue keeps the pace, up and down, up and down, slightly dipping into your hole.
he pulls away briefly to speak. "why can't 'ya just be my good girl again, hm?" he pulls you closer to his mouth so he can plant a wet kiss right over your clit.
"oh...daddy," your fingers scratch against the wood. "i am a-a good girl." it comes out as a whine, feeling joel's tongue circle around your clit in firm circles. his lips close around it, suckling it into his mouth and pressing his chin against your wet vulva, the juices sticking to his stubble.
"just want to love on 'ya, kitten. that's all i'm trying to do." the tip of his tongue was now flicking mercilessly against your aching clit, the release just on the edge but you knew better than to come without asking first. then you felt two fingers prodding at your entrance before pushing inside. "there 'ya go, princess. squeezin' my fingers so tight." he pumps them in and out, still suckling on your clit.
"imagine all your little friends seein' how you let your old man play with this pussy..." he trailed off. your back arched up off of the desk, fingernails digging into his forearms, and his hot tongue tasting every inch of your throbbing core.
"oh daddy, i don't ca-care..." that actually took him by surprise. "mm. turnin' into a little slut for daddy, huh?" with every slurp, lick, and pump of his fingers that vibrated through your whole body, you came undone quicker than expected in joel's mouth.
"mm. such a sweet thing," he spoke under his breath after licking you clean. "and still givin' me trouble."
"until i fuck you just how you want."
“o-please, daddy! i’ll be a good girl i promise,” you panted and moaned, feeling his thick cock slowly drag against your walls and the head of his cock pushing deeper and deeper to massage your cervix.
“yeah?” he breathed out, speaking almost clearly despite the tight walls just gripping the life out of him. “‘cause i was startin’ to think you like gettin’ spanked.” he emphasized it with an actual spank to your ass, jolting you forward but not too far due to the hand on your waist.
you were on your knees in the chair, face pressed against the back of it, and your ass in the air vulnerable for joel to do with you whatever he pleased. “i- i don’t…” you lie, trying to convince yourself or joel, you didn’t know.
“‘s that right? well let’s spank ‘ya one more time and see if that pretty pussy squeezes my cock again.” he kept one hand between your shoulder blades and the other one pulled back to smack your other cheek, easily proving his words. it made him groan.
he slowed down his thrusts tremendously, but didn’t stop. “tell me you’ll behave.” feeling every vein of his cock pulsate along your sensitive walls had you unable to speak clearly at the moment. “hmm?” he gently your hair in a makeshift ponytail and tugs just a little.
“‘m sorry, kitten. y’know daddy’s a little hard of hearing. what was that?” he speaks with a hint of amusement at having you so lost like this on his cock.
“mm, i-i-i’ll behave.” your fingers have the cushions of the chair in a death grip. you feel his belly on your back as he pushes back all the way inside of you as his hand slides from between your shoulder blades to around your neck. he pulls you up by it, connecting your back with his front as he speaks in your ear.
“that’s my good little girl. you listen to your daddy, okay?” his fingers put pressure on the sides of your throat, constricting your airway in such a delightful way. nodding your head, your jaw falls open.
“okay, daddy.” you gasp out.
“everyone thinks you’re this—” he hits an especially deep spot.
“oh my god!” you whimper.
“—sweet girl, using your manners, bein’ polite. when in reality, you love bein’ a dirty slut for your old man, ain’t that right, baby?”
his skin was slapping against yours now, along with the squelching wet sounds of his cock dragging your essence out of your pussy, some of it dripping from you onto the floor and the chair.
having two more consecutive orgasms will do that to girl. “won’t you be a sweet girl and suck daddy’s cum out of him.” he asks you so nicely you couldn’t resist. all you wanted to do was please your daddy.
he gently pulled his throbbing cock out of you and helped you get on your knees in front of him. your mouth opened and you pushed your tongue out without being asked to, making him smirk. “look at you, so eager for her daddy’s cock.” he fisted it, pumping back and forth while also squeezing it before slapping the underside on your flat tongue a few times.
“mmm, suck on it, kitten.” he growls, his large palm on the back of your head, coercing you forward. your lips wrap around his tip, moving your tongue along it too, bobbing back and forth.
“just like that.” he praises your actions. he pulls his hips back, taking his heavy cock in his hand and rubbing it along your cheek, nose, and lips. “oh baby, he loves your pretty face so much.” he moans then guides it back into your waiting mouth.
with that hollow of your cheeks combined with your tongue and those pretty lips around him, he feels his balls tighten up. “yes baby, you wanna swallow daddy’s cum?” his eyes screwed shut as he let the feeling overtake him. you tried to nod but it was a little hard.
“fuckin’ shit, there ‘ya go, honey.” you feel the hot spurts of his orgasm down your throat and inside your mouth. he pulls it out, still coming and some of it shot on your face, too. you swallowed what you could, opening your mouth to show him it was all gone.
joel was still catching his breath, looking down at you in a daze. smiling, he brings you up to meet his lips, not caring that there was still some of his cum on your face. as a matter of fact, he gathered it on his index finger and fed it to you.
Alright so first of all, I love your fics, they are so well written!!!
So there’s been something on my mind these last days and I thought maybe you could write something like that ( if not it’s completely fine!!!) Please bear with me English is not my first language 😮💨
What about stepdad!robby and uncle!jack having a free night and celebrating something like a promotion or smth. They’re going to a stripclub so there finally getting some, only problem is that the one dancer they find extremely attractive turns out to be Robby’s stepdaughter
if i had a penny for the amount of stripper!reader reqs i had in my box…i’d have two pennies, which isn’t a lot but it’s strange that it happened twice.
so i guess this is also for the person who requested the other stripper!reader fic too!!
okay flow state kicked in and i kind of changed the plot because i just feel like there’s no way they wouldn’t immediately recognise the dancer to be her, so i hope this is okay.
it’s robby’s birthday, the big 5-5. robby doesn’t want to do anything other than stay home and drink himself into oblivion as he comes to terms with the fact that he’s getting old, like old old. jack however, had other plans for robby on his big day.
jack had told him that they were just going to go to their usual bar and play some pool just like they did back in med school together. even though robby was reluctant to agree, he did anyway.
however robby got that sinking feeling in his stomach that he did whenever jack was up to something when he missed the turning for their usual spot.
“you missed the turn” robby points out, furrowing his brows at jack who in reply just clicks the car doors locked and smirks.
“jack….where are you taking me?” robby’s voice is low, apprehensive, his stomach turning a little as he imagines all the terrible things jack could be up to—michael robinavitch hates surprises.
“all in good time, brother. all in good time” jack beams at him before turning the stereo up, robby just sinks back into his seat wishing it could swallow him up.
“a strip club, brother? really?” robby sighs as he steps out of the car, folding his arms across his chest as the neon pink ‘girls girls girls’ sign threatens to burn his retinas.
“hell yeah! been a while since you’ve had any fun, come on it’s your birthday! if you can’t ogle half naked girls that aren’t your wife on your birthday, when can you!?” jack comes up behind him, grabbing his shoulders and giving him a shake. robby rolls his eyes as jack practically pushes him in the direction of the front door—this was going to be a long night.
once they’re inside they take a seat at the bar, jack wants to sit right next to the stage ready with a fat stack of bills in his pockets just itching to stuff them into some panties, robby just wants the night to be over with before it’s really begun.
“you’re really going to sit here sulking all night at this bar when just 10 feet behind you there’s super hot girls shaking what their mama gave them? you’re unbelievable, brother.” jack shakes his head, finishing the rest of his drink in one big gulp before slamming it back down onto the counter.
“well, suit yourself. i’m gonna go get me a dance” jack pushes himself off the barstool and stumbles off in the direction of the stage, struggling to pull his very full wallet out of his back pocket.
robby sighs and takes another sip of his drink, thinking maybe he should just get himself an uber home to make good on his previous plans of self loathing when he feels a soft tap on his shoulders. once. twice.
he turns around ready to turn down whichever eager dancer thinks she’s going to get a payday out of him when he meets said dancer’s eyes and stops dead in his tracks.
“oh my god…” he mumbles under his breath, his eyes locked onto yours. not quite able to comprehend the fact that you, his stepdaughter, are here at the club, wearing what can only be described as the tiniest pieces of fabric ever produced.
“hey, birthday boy!!” you squeal excitedly, wrapping your arms around robby’s neck and jumping up onto your tippy toes to hug him, pulling him right into your chest.
“wha….” the words fizzle out on robby’s tongue as you jump up onto the barstool beside him, beaming at him from ear to ear.
“it’s good to see you too!!” you laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly, amused by the befuddled look still on his face.
“what are you doing here?” robby asks and you laugh at that too. it had been a while since he last saw you and part of him wasn’t really sure that it was you, but of course it was.
“oh you know, just hanging out” you gesture vaguely with your hands. “what do you think i’m doing here dressed like this? i work here silly” you grab his glass and take a sip, grimacing at the bitter taste of the straight whiskey.
“right….does your mother know about…this?” he gestures towards your pathetic excuse of an outfit which was really one of those stripy blue micro-bikini’s and matching thigh high socks with those obscenely tall clear stripper heels.
“course not, and you’re not going to tell her right?” you raise your brows at him. robby and your mom had not been on good terms for a while now, they still lived together and were still married but it was rocky to say the least and robby figured that telling her that her daughter was a stripper might not help that situation.
he shakes his head and exhales slowly, “no, i won’t tell your mom”
then you’re beaming at him again, your brain a little fuzzy from the alcohol you’ve slowly been consuming since the start of your shift. “great! so…what are you doing here anyway? didn’t really think strip joints were your vibe”
“jack tricked me, told me we were going to play some pool and we ended up here” robby explains, calling over the bartender and ordering himself another drink, you insert your own order and tell the bartender that robby will be paying for yours.
“of all the strip joints in all the world and uncle jackie brought you to mine” you joke and robby for the first time that night actually cracks a smile.
“casablanca, nice” he tips his newly refilled drink towards you and you clink your glasses together, toasting his big day.
you spend a little while talking, just catching up with each other since it really had been a while since you last spoke. you had a huge fight with your mom a couple of months ago and hadn’t been back home to see her since, much to robby’s dismay. ever since he and your mothers relationship started going south you were really the only good thing about being in that house. so full of light and life, always laughing and smiling, always so sweet with him giving him the care and attention your mother didn’t—he missed you a lot.
“hey! seeing as it’s your birthday, how about a dance?” you offer after a little while, excitement way too obvious in your tone.
“what? from you?” robby almost spits out his drink in shock, there was no way that his stepdaughter was asking him if he wanted a lap dance.
“yeah from me! who else?” you laugh, playfully hitting his shoulder, you let your hand linger a little too long on his bicep.
“literally anyone else, kid. jesus christ, i’m your stepfather”
“come on, robby! it’s just a dance, not like we have to fuck. no touching allowed remember” you point in the general direction of the sign stating that very rule.
robby gulps, ‘not like we have to fuck’ like you didn’t have to but the option was still there if he wanted it…he wondered if that’s really how you meant it or was he just going crazy from not getting laid in about a year.
“jeez…i don’t know, i don’t think that’s a go–” he’s rubbing the back of his now flushed neck when you jump off your stool and grab him by the hand, pulling him to where he assumes the private rooms are.
“pretend it’s your birthday and live a little, dad” you wink at him as he helplessly follows you. you pull open a curtain of a free room and push him down onto the couch. robby tries to settle back into it as you mess around with the stereo but he doesn’t know what to do with himself. by the time you’ve turned around he’s sat with his hands together in his lap looking really rather awkward which makes you laugh.
“jesus christ, you look like you’re awaiting test results in a doctor's office, relax!” robby tries but fails, in the end he just lets his hands fall by his side, spreading his legs slightly as you step into the space.
“ar-are you sure about this…you don’t have to do this just because it’s my birthday…” robby gulps nervously again as you hit play on the stereo before setting the remote down on the couch. robby’s favourite song starts playing over the speakers and that’s when you start dancing.
you straddle one of his thighs, grinding your hips and swaying to the beat of the song, your body moving so fluidly that robby is honestly impressed. after a few moments he does actually relax, sinking back into the leather couch with his arms outstretched across the back of it as he watches you, his eyes trained on your swaying body.
and maybe he let himself get too relaxed as when you surged forward and threw yourself into his lap he felt his cock stir to life in his jeans. he tried so hard to will it away but the way you were rolling your hips against him, dragging your barely clothed cunt against his lap made it almost impossible.
“i don’t think this is–” robby starts, panic rising in his throat as he feels himself getting harder by the second, he was worried that you’d be able to feel it too. but you place your finger against his lips, grinding yourself down harder into his lap, you could definitely feel it and you liked it—a lot.
“sssshhh…it’s okay, just let go, let yourself enjoy something for once in your life, robby” your voice is a breathy whisper that sends a shiver down his spine. this is so wrong, his stepdaughter is practically dry humping him in the back room of a fucking strip club, he should push you off, tell you to stop—but he just can’t force himself to.
his hands hover above your hips, shaking slightly, he goes to pull them back as he remembers the sign you had pointed out to him earlier but you grab his wrists and bring him back, placing his hands on your hips.
“but the sign said…”
“doesn’t apply to birthday boys” you wink, wrapping your arms around the back of robby’s neck, rolling your hips harder now, purposefully. robby’s head lulls forwards, his eyes fluttering closed as the first sexual contact he’d had in a year becomes almost too much.
“fuck, you’re so hard,” you moan, rubbing your pussy back and forth in his lap. “feels soooo big, want to feel it inside of me” you whisper in his ear, trailing hot wet kisses along his jaw.
robby doesn’t reply, doesn’t know what to say. he knows what he should say, no. but it just doesn’t come out and then you’re undoing his belt, then the button of his pants and his zipper. and before he even knows what’s going on your pulling his cock out and wrapping your hand around its girth, pumping it in your fist.
“want to ride this big cock so bad, can i? please let me ride your cock, dad” you whine, leaning down and letting saliva pool on your tongue before letting it drip from your mouth onto his dick.
robby groans at the feeling, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he wrestles with his mind for a brief moment before finally giving in. “yeah, fuck yes, please”
you’re already pulling your panties to the side before he finishes his sentence. lining yourself up above him you take a second to look him in the eyes before sinking down onto his length, savouring the stretch as you slowly let yourself drop into his lap, his thick cock fully buried inside of you.
robby hisses through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched as your tight cunt squeezes him, so warm and so very wet it feels good, too good—so good in fact that robby thought after a year of no sex he might not even last two minutes.
and that notion is cemented in his mind when you start bouncing, actually bouncing, not a slow roll of your hips to ease him into it, no. an actual real bounce with your feet up on the couch, your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself.
“fuck, you gotta—oh fuck, gotta slow down, sweetheart. keep that up and i’m. shit. ’m gonna—” robby can barely keep himself together as you take him for all he’s got, riding his cock like you were made for it, like it’s the only thing you know how to do.
“you’re gonna what? gonna cum? gonna fill up this tight little pussy? god, that would be sooo terrible, i definitely don’t want that” you bite your lip, your tone mischievous as you watch robby’s face scrunch up as he tries his best to hold on.
“can’t, too quick–shit. don’t want to…”
“i want you to though. want you to fill up his pretty little cunt with cum. want to feel it in my stomach. want to watch it drip out. want it so bad, pleasseeee daddy”
that was it, robby’s breaking point. his release crashed through him like a heart attack, it had been too long and felt too good that it felt like he was actually dying. death by orgasm, what a way to go.
his sweat slick forehead drops against your chest, his breath hot against your flushed skin as he tries to regain control of his breathing. you settle down so you’re sat with his softening cock still inside of you. your hands wrap around his neck again, holding him against you and you smirk against the top of his head, pressing a kiss into his hair.
“see, now that wasn’t so bad was it?”
robby huffs out an exhausted laugh.
you both redress yourselves before leaving the private room, you give him a quick kiss on the cheek before saying goodbye and skipping off to the dressing room to clean yourself up. jack’s stood at the bar watching the two of you, he raises an eyebrow at robby when he rejoins him.
“wondered where you’d ran off to, thought you’d left me brother. was that…?”
“please–” robby pants, still not quite recovered from his earth shattering orgasm, the orgasm that his stepdaughter gave him. “–don’t ask”
a smirk tugs at the corner of jack’s lips and he gives robby a knowing pat on the back, “shit! that’s what i’m talking about!” jack hoots giving robby his abandoned drink back and he raises his. robby lazily taps his glass against jack’s and lets out an utterly exasperated laugh.
what a birthday this turned out to be.
okay so i’m actually in love with this!! was genuinely so excited to write all of it, so don’t tell me if it’s bad. hope u enjoy it as much as i did!! <33
want to be added to my fauxcest taglist .ᐣ reply to this post ᝰ.ᐟ ( all tags are tagged in reblogs from another acc)
𐙚 summary: you eating strawberries looks a little too much like sucking joel's cock.
𐙚 pairing: farmhand!joel x farmer's daughter!reader
𐙚 warning: legal but inappropriate age gap, outdoors sex, rough play, oral (m!receiving), face fucking
𐙚 author's note: decided to push myself to finish one more smut fic before 2025 ends. this is a sequel to this but can be read as a stand-alone either way. anyways, happy new year's eve and hope you enjoy!
The drive back to the farm is quiet, save for the humming of the pickup truck and the sound of you munching on the strawberries you had bought from the market an hour ago. Joel doesn't know what to say or do, as he just had his fingers knuckles-deep inside of his boss' daughter's pussy less than 24 hours ago.
Frankly, he planned on avoiding you. Maybe yesterday's events were enough to satisfy you, or Tommy almost walking in on the two of you could've scared you away from him. All he knows is that he needs to stay away from you. But as fate would have it, he's stuck with you today as your chauffeur, with her father's orders being that he take you to the market to buy whatever you needed, and take you back to the farm.
He watches you from the corner of his eye, seeing you pick up another strawberry from the basket in your lap, wrapping your lips around it and taking a bite, its red juices coating your lips. His knuckles turn white as he tightly grips the steering wheel. God, if that's how you're eating a strawberry, he can't help himself but imagine how you'd be sucking on his dick, which has begun to harden under his jeans.
"Want a strawberry?"
Your words pull him out of his train of thought, and he clears his throat. "No thanks."
"You sure? They're big and juicy, you know." You say, before reaching your hand out to put on gingerly on his thigh. "Kind of like something else."
"I'm not playing this game with you, not right now." Joel pushes your hand away, but you put it back anyways, fingers slowly creeping their way up higher towards his crotch.
"What game? I'm just talking about strawberries."
He can't take this anymore. The truck immediately pulls to a halt on the side of the empty road, right next to an open field. Joel immediately gets out, going around the front and opening the passenger door. He grabs your arm and yanks you out, making you yelp and almost tipping over the basket of strawberries. Trapping you between his body and the cool metal door of the pickup truck, he grips your face with one hand, forcing your eyes to meet.
"Honey, are you fucking serious? You really want to pull this shit on me right here, right now?"
"What do you mean?" You ask, feigning innocence.
"Don't give me that sweet girl act, honey. We both know you're far from it." He snaps, before grabbing your wrist and forcing your hand to press against the bulge protruding from his dirt-stained jeans. "This is what you wanted, right?"
Your mouth runs dry as you get a feel of his hard on. He's as hard as a rock, and you know for a fact it's because of you—and you can't help but get turned on at the thought and the proof your fingers are trying to wrap around right now. You grab a hold of his belt but Joel slaps your hand away.
"You're not touching anything unless I tell you to, sweetheart." He grunts as he starts to unbuckle his belt himself. "Now get on your knees."
You comply almost immediately, sinking into the green blades of wild grass, until you're face-to-face with the bulge threatening to escape his pants. You lick your strawberry-stained lips in anticipation as you watch the older farm hand unzip his jeans and pull out his cock.
A soft gasp escapes your lips at the sight, and Joel lets out a low chuckle. "Surprised?"
"It's better than I imagined," you breathe out.
You always thought he was big. Whenever you had your hands inside your panties in the middle of the night, you always imagined him with a big dick, and now you know that you have been absolutely right. His cock is long, girthy, covered in veins, and topped with a big head with an angry red tip that's oozing with pre-cum. It's almost hypnotizing to look at—you spent so much time daydreaming and fantasizing about Joel and how big his dick must be, and now you're going to get a taste of it.
"Go ahead, darling," Joel says, pressing his thumb against your lips to force them to part open. "Let's put that pretty mouth of yours to good use."
You open your mouth wider to allow for the head to slip into your mouth, your tongue swirling around it. Your lips enclose around the head before you start to gently suck. Joel lets out a groan at the sight—god, your lips wrapped around his tip looks exactly as how you'd been sucking on strawberries minutes ago. You look up to find him with his back hunched and one of his hands firmly pressed against the pickup truck behind you.
His other hand gets into the back of your head, forming a fist around your hair. He starts pushing you down on his cock, and more of his length begins to disappear past your lips. You whine against his shaft when you feel the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat.
"Just a little more, darling, I know you can take it all," Joel grunts, and, slowly but surely, he guides you down further until your lips meet the base of his shaft. When he finally lets go of your hair, you begin to bob your head up and down his cock, eliciting grunts and low moans from Joel. "That's it, that's a good girl—fuck! Your mouth feels so good, baby."
A warmth spread from your stomach down to your core at his praises. All of the words he's said and different sounds he's made—it makes you wet knowing it's you that's making him say all of those things. You find yourself putting a hand down your denim shorts, hips rocking back and forth against your fingers and making them sticky with your juices.
You continue sucking him off, with your tongue licking the underside of his shaft and getting a feel for the ridges and veins. Your own moans, muffled by the cock stuffed in your mouth, sends vibrations through his length, making Joel's hips jerk and buck against your face.
His reaction prompts you to move faster, bobbing your head up and down on his length at a quicker pace. Joel's moans only grow louder, and you feel his hand reach behind you to hold the back of your head steady. Before you know it, he's fucking your mouth, his hips bucking against you once more.
He thrusts his cock in and out of your mouth at a pace you wouldn't have been able to achieve on your own. Tears well up in your eyes and saliva seeps from the corners of your mouth as his tip repeatedly hits the back of your throat. He continues to fuck your face, your head kept in place as his shaft pulls out before slamming back into your mouth. The sheer roughness of it all only makes you hornier, your fingers running much more frantic circles around your sensitive clit.
"Christ—I'm gonna cum," Joel grunts, as he finally pulls his cock out from between your lips, leaving you with drool dripping from your chin. He wraps a hand around his shaft, your saliva acting as lube as he sloppily rubs himself in front of your face. "Open your mouth, honey."
You do as your told, parting your lips as wide as you can and sticking your tongue out for good measure. Within seconds, spurts of Joel's hot, sticky cum leave the tip of his cock and land in your anticipating mouth, with some of his seed pooling on your tongue.
You look up at Joel as you slowly swallow his semen, making sure your eyes meet as you do so. A hint of a smirk comes across his face as he places a hand on your face, his calloused thumb softly running across your cheek.
"Atta girl," Joel grunts in satisfaction—if only he hadn't ejaculated seconds prior, his cock would be hard as a rock right now at the sight of you swallowing his cum, and he would've fucked your face all over again.
ex, baby daddy, sammy bryant who wants you back and makes it known loll <3
MDNI 18+
He was already leaning against his car, arms crossed, sunglasses resting low on his nose, gum in his mouth when you pulled in the parking lot, your baby in the back.
“Ready to go see daddy?” You ask, smiling at her from the rear view mirror. She happily giggles and nods as you park the car. Getting out you round it and go to get her bags out of the back for the weekend but Sammy’s beat you there, grabbing the bright pink and green polka dotted bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
“Hi baby” he smiles, pushing his sun glasses into his curls and kissing your cheek, resting a hand on your side. Unfazed you let out a flat, “Sammy” as you move to the back doors, starting to unbuckle your daughter. She gasps when she sees him, letting out a sweet “daddy!” To which he chuckles, “there’s my girl” he smiles at her and you try to ignore the way it pulls on your heart strings.
You pull her out and before you can settle her on your hip she’s reaching for him, little arms stretching and wiggling for Sammy. He smiles widely at her, raising his eyebrows and taking her, setting her on his hip. You let out a soft sigh, setting your own hands on your waist and looking at them. “She had a bath this morning but if you do anything that gets her sweaty or dirty I want you to give her another,“ you say trying to think of things you need to tell him. “Bedtime at-“
“Seven, yeah I know.” He nods, adjusting her on his hip. “I know honey, I’ve been her dad as long as you’ve been her mom” he smirks. You sigh softly and nod, brushing some hair out of her face.
“She’s been trying to get me to give her soda, tell her no.”
“I miss you,” he starts,
“-because if you give it to her she’ll be up all night-“
“I love you”
“-and then her whole sleep schedule will be ruined so you can’t do that alright? I don’t care how cute her little puppy dog eyes are-“
“Let me come home.” he’s pleading now, eyebrows furrowed up.
You sigh, running a hand through your hair, “Sammy” you breathe, looking at him in the eyes, your daughter playing with his curls. “I mean it” he whispers, bouncing her on his hip now making you look at her. He notices and moves, turning his truck on and blasting the ac, buckling her into the car seat after throwing the bags in.
He’s standing in front of you now empty handed and begging, slowly walking towards you. Your back hits your own suv before you even realize how close he is. “Sammy, c’mon” you whisper, letting out a breath and looking at your feet. His big fingers tipping the bottom of your chin up so you’ll look at him before he leans into your neck slowly, seeing if you’ll push him away. When you don’t, he continues.
He places a feather light kiss to the vein in your neck before whispering “I think about you all day,” he places another kiss below your ear, “every day,” your eyes flutter shut, biting your bottom lip, “think about how much I miss comin’ home to ya.” he whispers into your ear, moving to the other side of your neck and kissing it now.
“Think about how much I miss making love to ya’” he whispers lowly against your ear, you can feel his hot breath on your skin, “Sammy” you breathe on instinct. He pulls back and looks you in the eyes, cupping your face. “I’m gonna do anything it takes to come back home,” he whispers, forehead falling against yours. “to be with you and our girl again everyday, because I love you, both of you.” He says lightly before leaning in, his lips brushing yours softly.
You lightly put your hands on his chest and push him away, because if you don’t now you never will. “Seven, no later.” You say before rounding your car and getting in and starting it.
♡ synopsis: now happily married to the kind of woman sammy could only dream of before, he's a very satisfied man. but... something seems to be bothering you tonight. once you're finally in bed together, you divulge the reason for your quiet disposition this evening. afterward, you prove to him yet again just how smart he was for wedding you.
♡ content: misogyny & internalized misogyny, anti-tammi, reader is a pregnant housewife, blowjob
Sammy often calls you his guardian angel. Because coming home to you is blissful heaven. There's no shouting matches, unhinged hysterics to deal with because you did something ridiculous while he was at work earning a paycheck and putting his ass on the line to provide for you, or a wreck of a house to clean up when he walks through the door.
No, just peace and quiet and calm.
Vacuumed carpet, mopped hardwood floors, polished countertops, laundered uniforms, a fresh assortment of fruits and vegetables in the kitchen, and faintly flickering candles on the coffee table which is complete with tidily organized stacks of magazines for your own respective interests.
And there's always toilet paper under the bathroom sink.
After his mess of a divorce, he was lonely, sure, but also very reluctant to ever get involved with someone ever again. After all, what if the new woman he chose turned out to be just as unstable as the last one—if not more so—and took him for all he was worth yet again, simply because he was trying to do the right thing by being a hardworking man?
Going on a reluctant search was never necessary to begin with, though, because there you were all along... From the very beginning, ahead of his filing for legal separation.
Before Sammy made you a happy little housewife, you'd been a waitress at a local diner, which he soon began to frequent after every shift, in an attempt to unwind and decompress before going home to a wife he resented.
You were a balm to his ragged nerves. Always sweet and sociable, and willing to lend an ear to listen to his woes when he actually had the energy to speak.
It gutted him that you were working ten hour shifts—and on sneakers that were being held together with naught more than duct tape, at that (he always felt guilty anytime he left you less than a $30 tip, even if all he ordered that evening was a glass of ice water). Meanwhile, Tammi was at home getting high with a damn teenager who stole something he stretched himself so fucking thin over to provide her with in the first place.
He should've known photography was going to be another whim just because she was bored.
At that, instead of being thankful, she instead reminded him of how he wasn't enough—or doing enough—when she harped on and on over the phone about wanting to move into a house he could never dream of affording while he was just trying to do his goddamn job.
Pushing it all down, his anger manifested in other ways before long.
It made him seethe watching other men put their hands on you when you came by to refill their coffee, or bring them their ordered meals because they somehow felt entitled to you.
When he started pulling his badge to get them to back the fuck off, or leave altogether, is when he knew that he was absolutely whipped.
Whenever Sammy would try to flirt, though, your eyes would always drift to that bothersome gold band that he desperately wanted to flush down the toilet and forget about entirely.
He was fucking terrified of losing you.
So, he filed and risked half of everything—his savings, pension, personal property, and financial assets—just for a chance at having something better by your side before the day finally came where you either disappeared from the diner's outdated interior in search of more favorable prospects elsewhere, or you slipped through his fingers altogether while another man put a wedding ring on one of yours.
No more does Sammy come through the front door and toe off his black rubber boots before you suddenly appear before him. Pressing yourself affectionately to his chest, you wind your arms tightly around his neck and grant him a soft peck on the lips.
"Welcome home," you whisper. Running your fingers through his soft auburn curls, you rest your forehead gently against his. "How was your day?"
Snaking his arms around your waist, your husband gives you a careful squeeze while a contented smile crawls its way across his lips and feeling of uncontainable warmth fills his heart. "Better now."
Sliding a heavy palm over your swollen belly, the corner of Sammy's lips twitches when your little one kicks excitedly.
"He missed his daddy as much as I did," you murmur.
Falling back a step, you tug Sammy past your two's cozily decorated living room. "Go ahead and take a hot shower. Dinner's just about ready."
He smooths a hand down the back of your head. "Did you—"
"Grocery list is all checked off," you remark with a confident nod. "And the gentleman at the auto store even changed my wiper's for me."
He frowns slightly. "I could've done that, baby."
You pad into the kitchen. "Think it's just something they do," you state with a shrug. "One less thing for you to worry about."
Squeezing your backside, you squeak quietly while Sammy chuckles and heads back to the bathroom to wash up.
It's always the little things that she would've never even dreamed of considering which repeatedly confirms that he made such a great fucking choice in his second spouse. Like a carefully folded pile of clothes waiting on the edge of the bed for him to change into after bathing.
Happy wife, happy life indeed.
While Sammy is all too happy to be chowing down on a heaping plate of steaming hot wings, and sipping from a cold bottle of beer in-between hearty bites after suffering through a grueling day amongst the crime-riddled streets of LA, he's acutely aware of how quiet you are tonight.
Maybe the grocery shopping should've waited until he could make a trip out this weekend instead. You already do so much. What, with cooking and cleaning and growing his baby in your womb...
Tacking on a trip to Sam's Club was a task that should've been placed on his calendar, he thinks, not on yours that's already so full.
When it came to Tammi, what he wanted mattered little, if at all. But he fears with you—since you never tell him no—that you somehow feel obligated to meet his every demand because he's the breadwinner in the relationship.
You even went so far as to encourage him to sign a prenup incase he "decided he made a huge mistake" and "wanted to undo it with no financial fallout."
Sammy refused to allow papers to be put between you, though. Not a single one.
No way in hell, because he was sure this time.
He just hopes that you don't feel...trapped.
Are you happy? Do you feel safe, loved, protected, and appreciated? Worshipped?
He nudges your socked foot beneath the round wooden dining table you're both seated at, and smiles when you look at him. "You okay, baby?"
You nod and nibble on a piece of chopped celery that's drenched in ranch. "Just tired."
Sam's well of worry deepens.
"Alright," Sammy groans while dragging you into his lap now that you're both in bed. "You gonna finally tell me what's been on your mind all evening?"
Your eyes flit to his and he immediately takes note of the look of hesitation he finds within.
Curling your fingers against the warm, freckled skin of his bare chest, you worry your lower lip between your teeth.
"Is it...somethin' I did?" he questions warily. "Are you—"
"No," you state softly while cupping his stubbled cheek tenderly in your hand. "It was something that happened at the store. I planned to tell you. I just... Wanted you to be fully settled in for the night before I did."
Gripping either of your hips, he leans back against the fluffed pillow behind him. "I'm all ears, angel."
"So..." you begin while resting a hand over his shoulder. "I was done shopping and went into the baby aisle to browse for a bit before I checked out. And..." you sigh exhaustedly. "Tammi was there."
He sits up the least bit straighter.
"Nothing happened, though," you swiftly reassure. "Apart from a verbal confrontation."
"Tell me," he insists.
"I felt like I was being stared at. Turned out I was right when I looked over my shoulder. There was a moment of recognition, which she commented on: Good, you know who I am," you relay in a snide voice meant to mimic her own. "I told her that I've seen photos. When she saw that I was pregnant, she sort of flew off the handle. Started screaming that I was a whore who stole her husband from her and destroyed her life. That I was a homewrecker, a slut..."
You shake your head while blinking back unbidden tears.
"Thankfully, an employee was nearby. He broke it up and threatened to call security on her if she didn't leave. Her being forced out of the store when she wasn't done shopping only set her off further. She was yelling the whole way out the door."
He squeezes his eyes shut to force down a broiling torrent of pent-up rage. "I'm so sorry, honey." Opening his eyes again, Sammy cups your shoulder—adjusting the strap of your nightgown where it's slipped down your arm. "Why didn't you call me?"
"I had food to get home and put away. If I did, I knew you would've come running." You chew your cheek. "Or you would've made things worse by having it out with her in the parking lot."
"This bitch..." he murmurs. "Sometimes I feel like no matter what I do, I'll never be rid of her."
"I wanted to tell her that it wasn't what she thought. That you and I never had an affair, but—"
"Not entirely true," he interrupts. "No, we never screwed before my marriage was dissolved, but there was definitely emotions being exchanged."
You rest a hand atop your belly. You've tried to give her grace; understanding in her numerous issues. But you think you've finally reached the end of your rope with it all.
No wonder he was so eager to have you instead after all the bull she put him through. She nearly made a monster out of a good man, but you've done your wifely duty and healed his troubled heart.
"Cunt," you whisper.
Sammy barks a laugh and leans forward. "I'm sorry, did my perfect little do-gooder wife just say what I think she did?" he inquires with an amused, toothy grin.
You study him from beneath hooded lids while smirking salaciously. "She never deserved you," you continue. "I'm the better woman."
Now it all comes out, he thinks with satisfaction.
"Yes you are," he rumbles while cupping your ass cheeks in both his hands and kneading the plump skin. "In every way."
"Mhm," you hum while slowly nodding. "Actually know how to keep house," you add. "I have dinner on the table every night, and I spend your hard-earned money wisely. Except for when you spoil me," you murmur with a shrug while grinding down against his semi-erect cock. "I do whatever you tell me to like a good girl."
"Shit," Sammy rasps while throwing his head back.
"I'm thankful for the home you've provided, and all the nice things you give me," you continue while leaning forward and trailing soft kisses along his chin. "I'm so lucky to have such a good man who gave me his last name. Who put his baby inside me where it belongs."
His cock stirs against your thinly-clothed pussy.
"Let me help you relax after such a long, hard day," you mutter while tugging off your nightgown.
Lying on your back in the middle of the bed, Sammy is resting back on his haunches while continually sliding his swollen, twitching cock between your shimmering lips.
Gripping the velvety shaft firmly in your fist, you plant a wet kiss atop the oozing mushroom tip before circling it lazily with your drooling tongue.
"Fuck, such a good girl for me," he utters.
You open wide, and Sammy eases his erection into the back of your throat. Cradling the base of your scalp in his palm, he rocks his hips and moans when you eagerly swallow what he gives you, just like always.
"You're right," he whispers while gazing down at you with unabashed adoration. "Better in every fuckin' way."
Gagging happily on his hard length, your eyes flutter closed when your husband sinks two calloused fingers between your slick, pulsing walls.
Husband! Sammy Bryant dealing with his horny drunk wife <3
MDNI 18+
warnings: intox, oral (f receiving), afab, a lot of whining lol, not read over srry <3
You’re whining into his neck, his big rough hands settled on your hips as you shove your face deeper into his freckled skin. He’s still in uniform, having picked you up from the bar after you called him tipsy and giggling and he came and took you home.
“Js’ call in” you whisper into his neck, slipping your skirt down your legs, your sticky panties following. “You know I can’t angel” he grunts lowly, hands squeezing at your bare flesh and his eyes fluttering shut as you kiss his neck.
“Sammy” you whine, falling back onto the bed and crawling up to the pillows as he watches you. You let your legs fall apart slowly, sticky wet pussy glimmering in the dim lighting of your shared home.
Sammy lets out a deep sigh, hand moving down to adjust his stiffening cock in his pants. “Baby.” he says sternly, “this isn’t fair.” He watches as you lower your left hand down, toying with your clit and your pretty wedding ring catching on the light.
“Just want my husband cock, s’ that so bad” you pout, big doe eyes blinking up at him. “You know I gotta get bac..” he trails off, his eyes glazing over as he stumbles towards you a bit. “You don’t want me anymore Sammy? That it?” You whine, finger pumping inside you.
His big hand is moving over his budge in his pants. “You know that ain’t it.” He growls, the walkie on his side beeping a loud crunchy ‘BRYANT’ as he curses. “I really do gotta go angel” he says lowering himself onto his on knees, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your sides.
He spits a couple times on your pussy as you gasp, watching it run down and coat your folds before he leans in and attaches his mouth to you, slurping it back up. He growls loudly into your cunt as you tug on his hair, his walkie still barking his name before he pulls away. “There, that should hold you over till m’ back hm?”
He leans over you, kissing you roughly before pulling back and then kissing you once more sweetly. “I love you, I’ll be back as soon as I get off” he knows you’ll be sleeping by the time he gets home, but that small taste of your cunt is enough to keep him going for a lifetime.
You whine as he pulls away, sleep already prominent in your voice and he chuckles, adjusting his pants one more time before leaving the house and locking the door.
tags: brett richards, jack abbot, grant riley, andrew "pope" cody, titus danforth, charlie reid, terry mccandless, sammy bryant, reader is their significant other, pet names, fem!reader, mentions of the following but not limited to: bushes (duh), pubes (double duh), pussy, periods, sex, outdoor sex, fingering, weaponized powerpoints, grant referring to himself as Chef, weaponized weapons (it's Titus what do you expect), Manipulative Charlie, Terry being sleazy, this one is significantly more mature than my other ones so 18+ MDNI
notes: another expansion of my hatosyverse! my other works for this are in my pitt masterlist, so please check those out if you enjoyed this! if you'd like to join my permanent master list, please comment here! enjoy!
word count: 5.5k
Brett Richards
Brett believed all pranks should be funny. That was the whole point of a prank: the laughs, the camera, the pointing fingers yelling Ha-ha, you fell for it. Pranks that weren't funny were just rude jokes, the ones that made you feel hollow instead of feeling joy.
Which was why when you casually mentioned that you had shaved, he at first didn't realize what you were talking about.
"That's nice, sweetheart," he casually muttered back, face too buried in his recent book to notice you looking at him oddly.
"I really thought you would react more," you replied, equal in a lower tone like you were talking more to yourself than him.
Again, Brett really had no clue what you were talking about. You shaved your legs on the regular, your armpits when you planned to wear a tank top that allowed him to oggle more than usual. Hell, you've even mentioned shaving your toes before nail appointments . . . that he payed for. Something, something not wanting them to see any toe hairs while their eyeballs were inches away from the small flower design they were painting.
He settled on a light scoff while turning the page. "Why would I react more? You shave all the time."
It wasn't until the next morning when you walked through the living room with a clear path to the backyard pool that Brett had put in specifically for you, when it all clicked in his mind. His eyes, never innocent ones, had trailed from the glittery sun-tan stuff you put on your collar bones and shoulders, down to the bikini top that left little to his imagination, then further down to the even smaller bikini bottom that perfectly cupped your . . .
The horrified noise that left his mouth had you pausing.
"What?" you yelped, scared that Brett had seen something. "What is it?"
Brett's eyes were wide as he walked toward you before he fell on his knees, hands rising to grip your hips tightly. In fear, you stepped closer and grabbed hold of his shoulders.
"Brett, what the fuck is happening?"
"You-you," he stuttered. "You shaved?"
You took a step back and looked down. "Huh?"
Brett said nothing. His finger slightly trailed up your leg, and his forehead pressed into your lower stomach, right against the waistline of your bikini bottom.
"You shaved," he repeated, voice hollow and tinged with . . . grief? "Why did you shave?"
Your brows pinched together until you realized that he hadn't understood what you meant when you said you shaved the other day. You rolled your eyes and huffed.
"I told you I shaved yesterday, and all you said was That's nice, sweetheart," you imitated in a deep voice that was no where close to his timber.
He tore his eyes away from your center and glared up at you "How could you do this to me? To us?"
"Brett, it'll grow back. I just didn't want it poking out while I swam. It's no biggie."
Well, apparently to him, this wasn't just "no biggie;" this was a colossal "biggie;" a right hook to the gut; he knew a gun shot to the head would be less painful to him than you shaving your bush without consulting him first about it; bikini be damed.
"But-but she was so pretty," he whined, and you found yourself wondering if you were dating a fifty-year-old fire chief for a wining frat boy who looked like his favorite bong was taken away. "And you just murdered her in cold blood." His face dipped back into your stomach, hands still gripping your waist. "Please tell me this is a prank, that I'm dreaming."
His words were muffled, but you got the gist.
"Baby," you said softly. "They don't make bald caps for pussy. And I can assure you that you and I are both awake."
He huffed even louder, the sound making a giggle rise from your chest. You pushed back his curls and forehead until he was looking back up at you with those puppy eyes you adored.
"If I had known you'd be this distraught, I would have just trimmed it," you tried to placate him. "Just didn't think Captain Brett Richards would be having a mental breakdown because I shaved my bush."
"I'm not having a mental breakdown," he argued, lips jutting in a pout. "I'm mourning. There's a difference."
"Yes. Sorry. Mourning." You nodded along. "Can I go swim now? The UVs at its highest, and I want to tan before I swim."
Grant looked upwards and thought for a moment. "Only if you promise you won't shave again all summer."
"How about I'll only trim it down. Compromise?"
He stayed silent before finally spitting out, "Fine. But I will be supervising."
"Sure, babe. Sure."
Jack Abbot
If you had known the consequences of the thing you did in the shower 23 minutes and seventeen seconds ago, you would have double guessed about proceeding with what you planned to do: shave your bush down.
However, what you hadn't planned was for Jack to walk right in, just as you were finishing up, and witness as to what he recalled as "the worst crime Pittsburgh has ever seen." You were sure that he was about three seconds from calling someone, but he did something even worse.
He had reached into the shower, turned off the water (even if you had yelled Hey!), gently pulled you out (because safety around slippery surfaces was a giant priority), and sat you down at the edge of your bed. He took two large steps over to his backpack, pulled out his laptop, and set it up to the projector you'd bought to watch movies on.
But now, Jack had taken over and was now projecting an almost downright powerpoint that had multiple slides about the benefits of keeping hair down there.
"Your body grows hair, my love," Jack stated, standing next to the projection like a speaker on those TedTalk videos. "If you were meant to have it short or have no hair at all, then your body would already be made like that."
"Is this really necessary?" you asked with narrowed eyes at the number of slides he had left.
(He was only on slide 3/184.)
He tutted gently in response. "Yes, it's necessary. You're going behind my back and shaving in places you never need to shave." He clicked to the next slide. "You need to understand that pubic hair does so much for your body. It's a built-in defense system, it helps reduce friction, it's a barrier for harmful bacteria, lowers STI risks, keeps pheromones trapped—"
"Hypocrite," you grumbled, arms crossing over your chest. "You shave your chest hair."
Jack huffed. "We're not talking about me; we're talking about why you thought it was a good idea to take your bush away from me."
"Your bush? When has a part of my body ever been yours?" you shot back. "If I want to shave it, I can ass hat."
At least Jack had the decency to look guilty with his hazel eyes dropping down toward the ground. "That's not what I was meaning."
Your eyebrows rose. "Oh; it wasn't? So now, any time you shave your chest hair, I can say that you're taking that away from me? Because it's the same thing, Jack."
"To me it's not."
"But to me it is," you pressed. "But if you really wanna play this game, maybe I'll just call Robby. He has all that chest hair under his scrubs. Maybe he has a powerpoint about the medical properties of chest hair. Would you listen to your work husband instead?"
"We're not calling Robby, and okay, I see your point." He leaned against the wall. "I guess I just don't understand why you even shaved in the first place."
You suddenly looked down at your bare knees. "Kelly from work said her husband liked it better shaved. Thought you might feel the same."
Jack froze for a nanosecond before he stalked over in his uneven gate. He stopped in front of you and lifted your chin with a pointer finger, hips folding so he could lean in close.
"Listen to me," he said softly. "Kelly's husband is boy. Boys don't know how to appreciate a natural woman's body." His other hand trailed up your center, fingers lightly grazing your skin enough to bring goosebumps to the surface. "Men—real men, like me—don't mind stuff like that. We actually enjoy it, my love."
You shivered, not knowing if it was from the chill on your still-slightly damp skin or the sheer intensity of Jack's gaze. He stepped in closer, bullying your legs apart for him to stand between your thighs. You kept your eyes on his and swallowed thickly while he softly pressed you back into the comforter.
Jack placed a hand right next to your head and bent down even further, his clothed chest barely hovering over yours. Your two hands lifted and came to place on his shoulders.
"Can I show you?" he muttered against your lips. "How a real man enjoys what he's been given."
You nodded. "Yes please."
"But going forward, you better think twice before you take a razor down there."
Grant Reilly
Grant knew something was up the moment you walked into the kitchen.
Some might have called him creepy for noticing, but he'd rather call himself a caring and attentive boyfriend. But what was he supposed to do when he noticed that instead of taking your normal, longer strides, you were practically shifting and almost waddling around. He eyed the way your inner thighs failed to part from each other the entire time you walked over to the fridge before going right back to where you'd been sitting in the living room.
Now, he could have kept this mouth shut, but his concern grew the more you shifted around, looking like you couldn't get comfortable at all. And that was a big no-no for Grant; you were supposed to be as comfortable as possible while staying in his house. If he could fix the smallest thing to bring you more comfort, he'd do it in a heartbeat.
"You okay, honey?" he called out, hands keeping a hold of the pan and spatula as he cooked dinner.
"Fine," you responded, but your voice was anything but convincing.
Grant shut the burner off and turned away from the stove. He placed both hands on the granite island and hunched his shoulders as he gave you the highest eyebrow arch he could muster.
"Somehow, I don't believe you."
You looked away from your phone. "It's nothing."
"You've shifted seven times in the last fifteen minutes, and you're walking weird."
"I'm not walking weird?"
"Oh yeah?" He straighten and folded his arms. "Then walk over here . . . normally."
You bit into your bottom lip before pushing off the couch.
Here's the issue. You were on your period, and entirely done with the planet; more importantly, done with the way everything just seemed to make a mess every time you used the bathroom. So, in a desperate attempt to keep things neater, you thought that shaving everything would help. But now, each step caused poking friction in your thighs. And really, you should have known better, but desperate times called for even more desperate measures.
Once you were on both feet, you tried your best to take a normal step. But the poking, almost biting sensation had you pausing. Gingerly, you took another step, but you couldn't even do that normally.
Not being able to watch you in obvious pain, Grant rounded the island and walked over to you, stopping you where you were halfway through taking another painful step.
"What's wrong?" he questioned. "And don't lie to me."
You shuffled on your feet before visibly deflating. "I shaved."
Grant continued to stare at you. "Okay?"
"Down there."
"Oh." Grant inhaled sharply. "Why?"
He wasn't . . . annoyed per se, but he was concerned why you'd do something that obviously caused great discomfort.
Your shoulders rose. "I'm on my period, and it kept getting everywhere. Just didn't really want to deal with it all anymore."
The next thing Grant did was bring you into a hug, his hand running rhythmically over your hair.
"My poor, honey," he cooed, timber far from condescending. "How about for next time, I can get you something that might be more helpful than shaving. Wipes are always a nice option, or if your pads stick, we can online shop for different underwear, okay?"
You nodded against his chest while you wrapped your arms around his waist. "Okay."
"Let's get you situated back on the couch while I continue making dinner. Can't have my girl going hungry. How does steak sound? Chef will make it for you, don't worry."
Andrew "Pope" Cody
a/n: I know this is technically waxing but it fits better in my mind . . .
Honestly, though, what were you thinking when you thought Oh, Andrew wouldn't know. Because if there was one aspect of Andrew Cody that never failed, it was that he knew everything. Whatever you did, Andrew would know about it not even two seconds later. Plus, he was the one who suggested synching Google Calendars in the first place.
So when he scrolled through the day's schedule and saw Waxing Appt. added in bright pink, he first thought you were getting your eyebrows done like you normally did when you were getting your nails done (all paid for with his card mind you).
However, he was far from the truth . . . so very, very, very far from the truth.
You really thought the waxer had done a good job. She hadn't taken off too much, because you already knew Andrew liked a bit of hair, especially when he went down on you. She had assured you that a bikini wax was wha you should go with. You'd gone through the painful process and didn't think twice when you tapped Andrew's card on the reader, always leaving a nice tip as well.
But that had been two days ago, and now, Andrew had you pressed up against the wall with your fingers digging deep into his naked, freckled biceps. Your head was tipped back against the wall while he kissed you within an inch of your life.
"Fuck, angel," he moaned into your mouth, hands holding you at your waist. "Feels so good."
"Andy," you whined as you dug your hips into his. "Need you."
"Yeah?" He pressed kissing along your stretched throat. "You need me?"
"Please! Please! Please!"
"Shh, shh," he hushed, right hand trailing down and across the waistline of your shorts. "I'm right here."
You moaned even louder when his fingers dipped closer to your core. "Please, Andy! Need y-you!"
Andrew continued dragging his hand down, fingers wiggling until he felt where he wanted. However, he froze when the familiar feeling of long hair didn't touch his fingertips. A breath later, he continued on, but the shorter hairs he found poked and pricked enough for him to retract his hand. This time, your whine was more confused than wanting.
"What're you doing?" you asked, chest rising and falling with your pants. "Is something wrong?"
"It's—" he paused, brows furrowing deeply. "It's different." He paused again. "Why's it different?"
You realized almost immediately as to what he was referring to. "Oh, yeah. I got it waxed during my appointment. Though you saw that on the calendar." You tried to meet his eyes, but was unsuccessful as he kept staring at the place between your thighs. "Do you not like it?"
Andrew stayed silent before slowly shaking his head. "It's not soft anymore."
"It'll get soft when it grows out again."
He huffed like he was mad at time for not speeding up. He tried again and shoved his hand down your shorts and underwear, but the feeling was almost overwhelming.
"It's not even either," he muttered, pulling out his hand yet again.
You dropped your hands from his arms and cupped his face gently. "Hey, if you don't like it, I won't do it again. I wanted to try something new, but if it bothers you, I can let it grow out."
"'M sorry."
"Don't be. You're the one who gets to touch down there more than I do anyways."
His head bobbed once like he was as serious about your bush as he would be for a bank heist. "I like it grown out. Feels nicer too."
"Hmmm, I guess it does." Your thighs pressed together, body still trying to come down from the heated moment. "Does this mean we have to wait though?"
Andrew looked you over once before bending slightly to haul you into his arms. You squealed loudly when he maneuvered you into a bridal carry and started walking toward your bedroom.
"We'll figure something out," he muttered, foot kicking the door closed behind him. "But it needs to grow out fast."
Titus Danforth
"Little dove, you better drop that razor right now if you know what's good for you," Titus' voice carried over the sound of your shower.
"If I stop now, it's going to look weird," you shot back, continuing on with what you were currently doing, legs parted just enough to get a clean cut. When the water suddenly shut off, you groaned loudly. "Titus, turn it back on."
When he didn't answer, you finally dropped the razor and turned toward the now open shower door. Your eyes were met with an overwhelming fire in Titus' hazel eyes. You reached to turn the water back on, but your hand was stopped halfway, courtesy of Titus wrapping a hand around your wrist.
"I said to drop the razor," he repeated, voice firm and unwavering. "Are you going to listen to me?"
"But it's patchy now."
"You shouldn't have been touching a razor anywhere near it in the first place."
You rolled your eyes. "I just wanted to shave my bush, Titus. It's not the end of the world."
Titus huffed loudly before yanking you all the way out of the shower. You were powerless against his strength, deciding to follow him without arguing further in hopes you didn't set him off even more than you already seemed to do.
One moment you were upright and the next you were pushed back onto the large bed in the center of the room. However, Titus didn't follow you down. Instead, he left you there and walked over the closet.
"What are you doing?"
He stayed quiet, hands now shuffling around through an interior drawer. You couldn't help the way your eyes raked over the stretch of his large shoulders under his dress shirt. You only looked away when he turned back toward you and started walking back to the bed.
A small glint caught your attention when he got close again, and your eyes widened at the sight of a knife gripped between his fingers. Your throat bobbed under a thick swallow.
"Titus . . ." you said, tone on the side of a warning.
"Quiet, little dove," he ordered, eyes trailing down to the place between your thighs. He sighed rather sadly. "Look what you've done to her."
Your brows pinched. "Her?"
He ignored you and parted your thighs, knife now dangerously close to the uneven patches of hair. "Because you so decided to have a whack at her, I'm going to fix this."
You bit your lip in an attempt to hold back the whimper after his fingers started to poke and prod at your core. Titus heard it anyway and tried to hold back a smirk of his own.
"This is not for your pleasure," he grunted. Carefully, he began to cut away at the left over hairs. "This is a lesson."
You rolled your eyes. "Oh, so I can't do anything to my body now?"
Titus looked up at you and glared before reaching up to tap the skin next to your hip. You knew exactly what was beneath his finger: a small T.S. scared into you, something he'd done the moment after you'd won your first games, something to remind you that you belonged to him and him alone.
"Your body, sure," Titus spoke lowly, knife stilling against the delicate skin. "But this? This is all mine. And you should know better than to mutilate what I own."
"Titus," you breathed. "I didn't mutilate anything. Shaving is normal; it's—" A sharp pain caused a hiss to interrupt your sentence.
Your eyes caught the beads of blood now bubbling from a small cut along your hip bone. However, a low moan covered the dull pain when Titus ran his hot tongue along the wound, catching each drop of blood like it was honey.
Once the blood stopped sweating, Titus straightened back up and went back to making the rest of the hair even. You only knew he was done when he patted the inside of your thigh twice, your skin stinging lightly. Yet, he didn't pull back. He leaned forward until his face was not even an inch in front of yours.
"Next time you even think of shaving again, little dove, let this be a reminder that I own you," he breathed into your mouth. "And I don't like it when anyone touches my property without permission."
Charlie Reid
You really could never tell what Charlie liked or didn't like. Being his personal office assistant meant that you needed to know things like this. But each time you did something, he'd respond just the same way.
Once you brought him straight black coffee, and he seemed fine with it. But another time, you tried switching things up and added a dash of vanilla. Like always, though, he took it without telling you if you needed to change it.
The same thing happened with everything else: the way he liked his paperwork, the way you set up his appointments, and even the way you greeted him in the mornings. Yet, you were able to catch the twitch of a smile when you used Chief instead of Mr. Reid. So you kept using that, always wanting to see that at least something you did was to his liking.
You tried to find his tells like that, but they were far and few between. However, one of them came in the most unexpected ways, starting with a spilled cup of coffee all over your front.
The hot pain barely took any time to process in your mind before you whimpered loud enough that Charlie was able to hear across the way. Somehow, you two were the only ones left in the precinct; Charlie had extra paperwork to coverup a murder, and you graciously stayed behind in case he needed anything.
"You okay, kid?" he called out, already rising from behind his desk. It didn't take him long to find you, in obvious pain and discomfort, gripping the counter with white knuckles. "What the hell happened here?"
You turned towards him and tried to flash a wavering smile. "Guess I didn't have a good grip on the pot."
Charlie eyed the way the coffee had dripped down from your blouse and dotted your white pencil skirt. "Do you want to go home? You've stayed longer than needed, kid."
But really, Charlie wanted to keep you near him as long as possible. So when you shook your head, a disgusting light feeling bloomed in his chest.
"Well, do you have any clothes to change into?" he pressed.
Again, you shook your head. "Didn't think I'd need a pair."
Charlie crossed his arms. "I think I got an extra shirt and sweats if you'd like."
Your slanted smile changed into a real one. "That'd be really nice, Chief. Thank you."
So, that's how you found yourself in the small bathroom next to his office, arms covering your bare middle while you waited for him to bring you his clothes. The thought you drowning in his shirt and sweats brought a heat to your face.
You just didn't expect him to barge right in instead of knocking, clothes held tightly to his front. You watched him freeze in the threshold, eyes wide as they trailed down your frame.
When Charlie knew he'd been caught, he cleared his throat and held the change of clothes out to take. "Here. Sorry if they're oversized."
You gingerly took them from him and quietly thank him as well. You also thought he'd leave to give you some privacy, but he stayed put. Not wanting to keep him long, you started to pull the sweats on.
While you were doing so, Charlie let his eyes linger on your naked thighs and cute bow-covered underwear. He swallowed thickly when he noticed that hardly any hair pocked out of the hem.
"You shave?" he suddenly asked, not even embarrassed to be asking you that or looking.
Your face heated tenfold, and you tugged the sweats up quickly. "Yeah," you finally squeaked. "I keep things neat."
Charlie nodded once. "Hmmmm. Think it'd look better grown out, kid. Might be easier to not shave it so often." With that, he slipped out of the bathroom, leaving you a blushing mess.
And if Charlie pulled a similar stunt a few weeks later, purposefully spilling coffee on you late at night in hopes to get you back into his clothes, just to see if you'd headed his advice? Let's just say he was more than grateful to see the small bush spilling from a cherry-covered thong this time around.
Terry McCandless
South Carolina was hot with the kind of lingering heat that made your thighs stick to each other almost instantly if you took one step out into the hot, humid atmosphere.
Sweat pooled in placed you didn't even know sweat could pool. And you hated the way Terry always seemed to push for outdoor fondling that most times ended up with your back pressed against a random surface and Terry pounding into you hard. Which caused more sweat to build . . . again.
By the time Terry had asked you for the third time to fuck outside, you'd learned that having as few layers underneath your clothes helped the breeze to cool you down. You'd also picked up a few things about keeping things short or just foregoing keeping hair down there all together.
Terry didn't seem to mind either. In fact, you think he preferred having you shaved; especially after the one time you'd forgotten your new shaving routine he refused to go down on you. A part of you knew he was being a man child that couldn't get through a bit of hair, but the other part, the one that kept you tethered to Terry even with his red flags, had you wanting to keep him happy.
That feeling kept you keeping everything close to hairless.
And like normal, you found yourself outside, looking down at a text message from Terry that only said "be ready." You barely had any time to be confused, because in the next moment, Terry was climbing out of his undercover car, dress pants and white button up paired with sunglasses, and heading right toward you with a smirk that looked more sinful than what you were about to do.
"Terry," you huffed. "I have shopping to do."
"Don't bother bout that, darling," he muttered, hand jutting out to grab onto your wrist. "You'll get to your shoppin' momentarily."
Oh how his southern twang had your knees weak in two seconds and you following him behind a concrete wall like an obedient dog.
The moment you were out of sight from the main road, Terry pressed up against your front and kissed you fiercely. You moaned almost instantly into his mouth, and your hands dug into his short curls. His thick fingers gripped your hips and pulled them harshly into his before his right hand trailed down to the hem of your dress.
"Fuck, Terry," you whimpered when he parted and licked a hot stripe up your neck.
"Am I gonna like what I find," he questioned, fingers playing with the end of your dress. "Were you a good girl f'r me?"
You nodded earnestly.
Terry chuckled deeply and finally dipped his hand under the hem until he found the fabric of your underwear. Not wanting to waste time, you quickly helped him push the red fabric down your legs. When he put them in his back pocket, you didn't say anything, only spreading your legs wider for him to stand between.
Once you were standing up straight again, Terry pulled your dress up again until his fingers finally found what he was looking for. An almost relieved sigh pushed from his lips when he felt around the smooth skin between your thighs.
"Hmmm, someone was a good girl." He pressed on more kiss into your mouth before kneeling on the ground, black pants be damned. "Looks like I'll have to reward her for listening."
Sammy Bryant
"Sammy! Can you come help me!" Sammy heard you call through the bathroom door.
"Yeah!" he responded. "Gimme a second. I gotta finish one more screw!"
Sammy held the two boards of wood that, if he did the next step correctly, would form the base of the crib meant for yours and Sammy's baby that was due in about two months. He had told you time and time again that he was going to be the one to put the thing together, and when your nesting urges grew and grew, he began researching. What he learned in between then and now was that building a crib was much harder than it looked.
But when the two boards finally settled nicely together, Sammy sat back on his haunches and heavily sighed in relief. He couldn't help but smile as he looked at the beginning stages.
"Sammy!"
Oh, right. Pregnant wife needs something.
"Coming, gorgeous!" he hollered back, pushing up off the ground with a groan.
While you experienced many different side effects of pregnancy, Sammy was the unfortunate one to experience the weight gain aspect. Where his patrol uniforms used to fit perfectly, he found himself pushing harder while running after suspects because his belt wasn't fitting around his waist all too well. Sure, he used to be plushy when he was a detective, but he worked hard for the abs that came after many months of patrol in the hot California sun.
Sammy's brain ran quickly, trying to figure out what exactly you might need. He wondered if you had dropped your loofa or needed your back washed or perhaps you were thirsty or—
"What are you doing?" he all but shouted the moment he walked through the bathroom door.
He didn't even have time to ogle your body (that he thought had gotten 110% hotter when your bump finally popped) before he was stepping closer and grabbing the razor that had been between your legs.
"Sammy, I was using that!" you screeched back. "Give it!"
Sammy held it behind him and high in the air. "Nuh-uh. You don't need to be shaving down there!"
You huffed, hands coming down to hold your bump as you stood in the cascading water. "But I want to. It's getting itchy."
"We can get you a cream or something," he argued before placing the razor down on the counter. "You don't need to be shaving your bush."
"You're not the one who has to deal with it every time you take a step!" you pushed back, voice growing louder. "Samuel Bryant you'll give me that razor or so help me, you will be sleeping on the couch until this baby turns 5!"
Sammy gulped loudly, and his eyes shifted back to the razor. "Gorgeous—"
"Don't Gorgeous me," you hissed. "I'm six-months pregnant, and you're being an asshole!"
"Listen," he said gently, taking a step towards you. "If you want to shave down there, then you can shave. But let me help. The last thing I need is you slipping and hurting yourself and the baby."
You eyed him warily.
Sammy shifted on his weight. "Look. I'll even use my nice electric razor. And any time you want it trimmed, I will do it, okay?"
It took you a moment before you nodded. "Fine. But you better keep your promise, and it's banishment to the couch for you."
"Yes, ma'am," Sammy agreed instantly. "Promise." He held out his hand for you to take, but you simply slapped it away.
"You ruined my shower, Sammy, so now I gotta start all over again." You shut the fogged door shut right in his face. "I will call you when I want to see you again."
Sammy stood frozen in his place and silently cursed himself for interrupting. He should have known better than to try what he just did. Not knowing what else to do but obey, he turned around and left the bathroom, razor still abandoned on the sink.
I know this isn’t an actually thing but stepdad!robby saying he has “blue balls” and that she needs to help him, having her suck at first his tip “just like a lollipop” and after a few sessions she’s got the hang of it as it becomes a routine as he steps late at night into her room for “help”.
ooooohhh, i see the vision!!
stepdad!robby has ‘blue balls’ again (f!reader)
wc: 1.4k
warning: this is icky!! super naive reader!!
warnings/tags: fauxcest, stepdad!robby, naive!reader, stepdaughter!reader, daddy kink, oral (m!), manipulation, surprise cum shot in mouth, forced cum swallowing.
you’re sat on the couch with robby watching tv, your moms been gone for a couple of days, you don’t really know where. robby has his arm lazily draped over your shoulder, your head is resting on his chest as you watch whatever show you have on intently.
robby groans then, grabbing at his crotch and giving it a little squeeze as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. you look up at him, a frown present on your face at his obvious discomfort, you hate to see your old man in pain.
“what’s wrong?” you ask, eyes all wide and already glassy from thinking that he might actually be experiencing pain.
“ugh, it’s just. nah, forget it. it’s nothing” robby’s jaw is clenched tight, his hand still shifting his cock over his pants.
“no, tell me. what’s wrong? you’re not in pain are you?” your voice is already desperate and you’re sat up now, your hands on his chest as you inspect his scrunched up face.
“a little. but it’s nothing that you should worry about, sweetheart” he smiles half-heartedly, trying to mask the smirk that threatens to form as he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. knows you’re too sweet and caring for your own good.
“but i am worried! please tell me, i want to make it better” your bottom lip is thrown out now, chin wobbling, small tears threatening to fall.
robby takes in a deep breath then exhales, his hand finally leaving his cock and settling on your thigh. “well, sometimes when a man hasn’t relieved himself for a while it can hurt, you know. down there” he nods his head towards his crotch and your eyes follow, landing on the obvious strained outline of his thick cock.
“oh no!” your hand reaches across and lands on his cock, just holding it lightly in your hand over his pants. robby’s eyes close briefly and he bites back a groan that threatens to spill from his lips. “can i make it better? please let me help you, daddy. don’t want you to be in pain” you’re still frowning, looking up at him with big glassy eyes that has his heart hammering in his chest and his cock twitching in your hand.
“i couldn’t ask you to do that, baby. it’s grown up stuff”he strokes the side of your face, giving your cheek a little squeeze as he half smiles half frowns at you.
your eyebrows fall in the middle, your own frown getting bigger. “i am a grown up! i can handle it, please i wanna help you” it’s true, you are a grown up. but the way robby’s been babying you since the day he met you had made you all kinds of naive and very very clueless.
“i mean…if you’re sure, sweetheart”
you’re nodding eagerly, “i am sure! i can handle it, daddy. i promise!”
he lets that smirk pull at his lips now, he’s got you. “okay, okay. do you know what to do?”
you shake your head slowly and he gets up off the couch, standing in front of you between your legs, your face eye-level with his crotch. he undoes the top button of his pants and then the zipper, pulling them down a long with his boxer briefs, letting his thick cock hang heavy between his legs. your eyes widen at the sight of it, “oh…big.”
robby smiles at that, “yeah, it’s big. sure you can handle it, baby?”
you’re nodding again, “mhm!” you reach your hand up and wrap it around his girth, your fingertips barely touching around it. robby hisses at the contact, “thought you said you didn’t know what to do with it.”
“jus’ wanted to touch it” you smile, scooting up to the edge of the couch cushion to get closer to him.
“good girl,” robby’s hand comes up to the side of your face, cupping your jaw. “okay so, you’re gonna use your mouth okay?”
you tear your eyes away from his length, looking up at him with a deer in headlights expression on your face. “my mouth? how?”
“don’t worry, it’s easy. just like you’re sucking on a lollipop”
it clicks for you then and you lean forward and give a tentative lick to the underside of his tip. once and then twice before wrapping your lips around him, fully engulfing his head in your warm mouth. your eyes never leave his. robby can’t believe the sight in front of him, his pretty little girl with her mouth on his cock.
“that’s it, baby. that’s good, such a good girl.” he groans, his head threatening to tip back but he keeps it still, wanting to watch as you sink your mouth over him more. you take more of him in, swirling your tongue over him, tracing every ridge and vein because you think that’ll feel good for him, it does.
“fuck, you’re so good at that. sure you haven’t done this before?” he huffs out a satisfied laugh and you softly shake your head. “just a natural then? should’ve known. my sweet girl is good at everything, isn’t that right?” he coo’s, his hand stroking the side of your face. your cheeks are all big and puffed up, so stuffed full of his cock.
you’re nodding, your eyes glued to his as you bob your head in time with your hand stroking what you can’t fit in your mouth. you get a little too eager and his tip hits the back of your throat making you gag and pull off immediately, robby laughs as you gasp for air.
“aw, careful, baby. don’t wanna hurt yourself, you’re okay, you’re okay” he’s bending over to kiss the top of your head, his cock brushing against your lips as he does so. you give his tip another small lick before taking him back in your mouth, being careful this time not to hurt yourself.
before long you’ve got the hang of it, licking and sucking as you move your head, hollowing out your cheeks when you need to. robby’s falling apart under your touch, babbling sweet words as he nears closer to his orgasm.
“fuck, feels s’good. such a good girl, my pretty little thing. so sweet for your daddy” robby groans, his hand on the side of your face slides around to grab a fistful of your hair, needing something to hold onto as to not lose himself. his knees buckle under his weight, it’s getting harder and harder for him to hold on. he knows he should pull out, cumming in your mouth might be too much for the first time. but he just can’t bring himself to leave the warm sanctuary of your soft cheeks.
and so he doesn’t. with a couple of forceful thrusts that make you gag he’s spilling himself right down your throat. your mouth fills up immediately and you don’t know what to do, it tastes weird and you want to spit it out but robby instructs you otherwise.
“swallow, baby. that’s it, need to swallow it for me. good girl, that’s it, you got it”
you swallow it down, almost gagging on the salty bitter taste but you always do what daddy says. he pulls his softening cock out of your mouth with a wet pop and collapses on the couch beside you. spreading his arms across the back of it he pulls you into his chest, soft tummy heaving as he recovers from his orgasm.
“feelin’–hmff–feelin better, daddy?” you ask between soft pants, your body trembling slightly from when he’d thrust into your throat before.
“yes, thank you, baby.” he peers over at you and sees your flushed face and wet lashes, his eyes tracing over the wet streaks on your cheeks from where you’d been crying on his cock when he’d been too rough.
“i’m sorry, sweetheart. did i hurt you?” he leans over and wipes your cheeks, you lean into his touch and shake your head.
“no. no. you didn’t hurt me, i’m okay, daddy. told you i could handle it” you proclaim with a dazed smile on your face. robby kisses it, tasting his release still on your soft lips.
“yeah, you did so good. thank you” he’s flopped back down on the couch now, his eyes going back to whatever’s now playing on the tv. you settle into his chest and smile, pleased you’d made him feel better.
after that robby makes a little habit of sneaking into your room at night. all he has to do is sit on the edge of the bed and give you a light shake to wake you and you already know what he wants. and you’re more than willing to give it to him.
he hasn’t had to jerk off in months, not when he has his eager little girl around that just wants to make him feel all better.
woah woah woah that was icky 😵💫😵💫 hope u enjoyed <33
want to be added to my fauxcest taglist .ᐣ reply to this post ᝰ.ᐟ ( taglist is tagged from another acc)
What if…we reverse the roles for a second and imagine it's you who takes Peepaw Joel's virginity?
Yes, of course old Joel dated. Plenty. I mean, look at him. Women were gushing for him. But going to bed with them? Never happened. And after the outbreak, sex just wasn't his priority. Survival was. Trust was. And by the time he reached Jackson, he'd built walls so high that even he forgot there was a virgin hiding behind them.
But Jackson changed things. Tommy was happy. Maria was pregnant. Joel watched those couples walk hand-in-hand, and something twisted in his gut—a hollow ache. He never had that. Not even once. And now he's sixty, belly soft from steady meals, hands calloused from years of work, he figured it's too damn late.
Who the hell would want a grumpy old virgin?
Then you came to Jackson.
Bold, young, too goddamn pretty. Everything Joel needed to stay away from, because his heart couldn't take it anymore. But when you placed a kiss on his cheek, told him he looked handsome, and invited him over to your house—he couldn't possibly say no.
"Ain't never...done this before," he blurted out the moment your hand slid under his shirt, while you sat on top of him. He braced for your reaction, embarrassed, but you only cooed, kissed him, and promised to take real good care of him.
And yes—Joel's cock was excited. He's old, but he's not dead. The moment your hands started roaming—his thigh, his belly, the zipper of his jeans—he hardened like a rock. Blood rushed to his groin with a desperation he'd never felt before.
But his insecurities hit hard. When you started to tug his shirt up, he grabbed your wrists. "Too much gut on an old man like me."
You just nuzzled your face into the soft skin of his belly and told him how much you wanted it pressed against you while he fucked you.
And when you finally wrapped your hand around his cock for the first time? That poor old man nearly had a heart attack. Deep, shaky moans spilled from his mouth. He tried to stay quiet at first, but the new sensations wrecked him—little gasps, grunts that turned into desperate groans, maybe even your name said like a prayer when he got close.
First time your cunt clenched around him? He was already gasping. A few pumps up and down, and he was babbling: "I'm gonna—fuck, I can't hold it—stop or—"
And he spilled inside you, all pathetic and breathless, gaping for air. His cock pulsed and pulsed, twitched and twitched until he collapsed, face buried in your neck, breathing hard. He was mortified. "That...that was damn pitiful. I'm sorry."
But you just stroked his hair, smiling to him. "It was perfect. And we've got all night."
And because he's old but not spent—once he caught his breath, his cock stirred again, curious and ready.
This time, you let him take control.
He was slower. More gentle. He wanted to please you. Wanted to make up for that quick finish. So he fingered you, licked you, followed your instructions until he had you gasping beneath him. Then he pushed in again, and he lasted longer. He learned. He memorized every sound you made.
Summary: your boyfriend begs you to have anal but knows jack shit about the act. Much to your surprise and pleasure, his dad steps up and teaches him. By example.
Tw: +18, mdni, smut, age gap, soft!Joel, consent king Joel, reader calls him Mr Miller bc she’s respectful and bc it’s hotttt, size kink, competency kink, pussy/ass fingering (different fingers ofc), cuckolding, ass play, rimming, anal, lots of lube, f!masturbation, creampie, praise kink.
Word count: 5,4k
A/n: I think this is the porn-iest story I’ve ever written ahah It’s very depraved but also sweet in some places. I had a blast working on it and I hope you’ll like the result♥️ Soft Joel kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Dividers by @/saradika-graphics 💞Enjoy, my lovely freaks🍑
MASTERLIST
“Number one rule of anal sex is ‘No rush’,” Mr Miller says to his son. The older man is sitting by your side, his hands gently kneading your naked asscheeks. You hold your breath when he spreads the globes of your flesh and exposes your pussy slit and butthole. Both entrances clench.
You’ve been going out with Jack Miller for almost a year and you know his dad Joel relatively well. He’s single, works as a contractor, loves spending his free time playing the guitar, woodworking, watching old action movies and going to the bar with his brother Tommy. What you haven’t known before tonight is how good his fingers feel when he pushes them into your asshole. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
It all started with an argument. Jack was getting on your nerves, begging you to have anal.
“C’mon, baby,” he said, clinging to you like an annoying lap dog. He had just fingered you as a foreplay so you were sweaty and sleepy, lying naked on his bed. As always it had taken him too long. He had trouble finding the right rhythm and the right angle like he’d never touched your pussy before. While he was fiddling with your lady parts, a slideshow of your favorite porno scenes was playing on a loop behind your tightly closed eyes until finally you reached an underwhelming orgasm.
Probably relying on endorphins clouding your judgement, Jack began his anal pitch. He was promising you heavenly pleasure and an unforgettable experience, mostly turning himself on - a pole was proudly tenting his sweatpants.
Despite the passion in his voice, you were adamant in your decision. You’d never done it with anyone before and doubted that Jack was experienced enough to show you a wonderful world of anal.
“It’s not that simple, Jack! Jerking off to anal porn is not enough! What if you hurt me! You need to educate yourself first. You need to know… stuff.” You pulled the cover over your naked breasts and crossed your arms.
“What stuff?” Jack frowned.
“Exactly!”
You stared at the ceiling, contemplating getting dressed and going home. You were sure he wouldn’t let it go. And he didn’t.
“I’ll be careful, I promise. Just a tip first, you won’t even feel it. I’ll be super slow and then bam! I’m inside.”
BAM! No one in the history of mankind wanted to hear Bam! and their ass in the same sentence. So you shook your head and gave Jack an alternative,
“Why don’t you fuck my pussy?”
Jack palmed his clothed boner with interest but then shook his head, doubling down.
“Baby, pleaseeeeee..”
Nothing extraordinary would have happened if Jack hadn’t kept nagging and whining, pleading you to give him your butt. You kept saying ‘no’, he kept begging. It got so annoying that you decided to leave but before you sat up there was a loud knock on the bedroom door.
“Dad,” Jack grumbled and got up. He adjusted his hard cock and you pulled the bed cover higher, covering your chest.
“What’s up, dad?” Jack said, annoyed by the interruption.
“Can I …?” Mr Miller stepped into the bedroom. You swallowed loudly. It was weird to be completely naked under the sheet in front of your boyfriend’s father.
“Sorry for intrudin’, sweetheart,” he said, turning to you and then to his son. “Jack, I can’t listen to it no more! Don’t you get what she’s sayin’?”
“Dad, what the hell?” Jack’s cheeks grew red, he was shifting on his bare feet, throwing nervous glances at you. And you definitely shared his confusion.
“I wasn’t eavesdroppin’ I swear. These fuckin walls are cardboard thin. You were whinin’ like a little bitch, son. Sorry, sweetheart,” Mr Miller apologized to you again and then said the words that you’d never expected to hear from your boyfriend’s dad.
“Let me teach you anal.”
Jack was shocked and embarrassed. He was gawking at his dad with widened eyes while the older man was standing by the bed, towering over his son, feet planted firmly on the ground. He kept saying that he only wanted to help, gesturing with his big hands. To your surprise you immediately pictured those hands on your naked body.
You wondered how Mr Miller would teach you. Maybe he’d watch Jack and you, guiding you both, giving advice, or maybe he’d take matters (your ass) into his own hands. Those huge veiny hands. The thought made your core pucker and while Jack was asking his dad to leave, saying that he lost his mind, you pressed your thighs together under the cover, trying to alleviate the ache in your pussy.
“I couldn’t hear the TV, Jack! Only your pathetic attempts to put it in her ass. Sorry, baby,” Mr Miller looked at you, his hands raised palms to you.
“Don’t call her that,” Jack grumbled. He looked and sounded like a boy who didn’t want to share his toy truck.
“‘K,” his father nodded and turned at you. “Jus’ wanna help.”
He dropped his hands by his sides, his sad puppy eyes moving from his son and to you and back. Your heart swelled. Your pussy throbbed.
“Ok,” you said, surprising your boyfriend and yourself. Jack gawked at you.
“What do you mean ‘ok’?!”
“You want to have anal, yeah? But you got no clue what to do, don’t even lie, Jack! Let your dad teach us.”
That’s how you ended up in a position you couldn’t imagine being in your wildest dreams — lying naked on your front, your legs spread, your boyfriend's dad playing with your butt.
“Help ‘er relax,” Mr Miller says to his son, his voice soft and soothing, his tone casual as if he’s teaching Jack how to fix a lawn mower. Your boyfriend is seated in a gaming chair a foot away from the bed, his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. When his gaze meets yours, you quickly look away. He doesn’t seem pleased, rather mortified. Whatever. You always thought that Mr Miller was hot, in a rugged and dilf-y way.
Once you had a dream about blowing him in their kitchen, your mouth full of his fat cock, his fingers tight in your hair, no Jack and his cuck gaming chair in sight.
“Draw ‘er a nice bath, give ‘er a massage, somethin’ like that,” Joel says as his calloused palm glides up and down the back of your thigh. You’re one big goosebump, his touch is electrifying.
“No harsh movements.” He carefully pushes on your inner thigh until you bend up your leg. Your hips open and slightly rise off the bed. “She needs to be pliant, ready to take you in her most vulnerable place.”
Jack swallows hard. Your cheek is resting on the pillow, your head turned away from Mr Miller, but you are seeing him perfectly in the wardrobe mirror that stands lengthwise the bed. He’s wearing his usual flannel, sleeves rolled up, and dark blue jeans. It’s not his home clothes and you wonder if he dressed like this for you.
Mr Miller’s salt and pepper locks curl up at the nape, he needs a haircut, but you like his hair longer. You imagine running your fingers through his curls, tugging on them while he’s plowing your wet needy …
“Are you comfortable, sweetie?” Joel interrupts your dirty daydream with a question, his voice soft and raspy. It could have lulled you to sleep if not for a finger that grazes your butthole, making you flinch.
“Uh-huh.” You don’t sound too sure.
“We’ll get there,” he says with a little smile and adds, “Together.”
While you’re slowly melting into the bedsheets from his gentle tone, Mr Miller turns to Jack.
“Another important thing is lubrication. You have some?”
It looks like Jack’s using all his energy to dissociate at the moment thus he misses the question.
“Huh?”
“Lube? You have it or I need to go get mine?”
You widen your eyes, picturing Mr Miller squirt lube on some lucky lady in his master bedroom. And to think you considered him almost celibate!
Your boyfriend blinks a few times, then gets up. You hear him rummaging through a mess in his nightstand drawer, mumbling the word ‘crazy’ before he throws a little bottle on the bed and returns to his chair.
“It should be warm,” Joel says, rolling it between his wide palms.
“May I?” His reflection points at your ass in the mirror and you nod with a quiet ‘yes’. Mr Miller opens the lid with teeth and moves your left asscheek to the side for better access.
“Oh!” You gasp when a slight cold glob of lube lands on your tight ring.
“Bit more.” Joel adds another squirt and then starts spreading the liquid around your ring with a tip of his finger.
“Ahhhh,” you whimper and bite your tongue immediately. Jack’s chair creaks.
“Feels good?” When Joel asks you the question you don’t see a point in lying so you say “yeah.” Wet arousal pools in your core, it’s a matter of minutes before it slides out of your hole and reveals how insanely horny Mr Miller is making you.
“We’re just startin’ and look at her response,” Joel says with pride in his velvet voice while his finger is slowly drawing circles over your asshole. “She’s enjoyin’ it. Even if we stop now she’ll remember the act as something pleasant.”
“Maybe we should,” Jack mutters but neither Joel nor you pay it any attention. Hot flames are licking at your core, the ache in your pussy growing so fast, you roll your hips against the bed, searching for friction.
Adding gasoline to your horny fire is the sight in the mirror in front of you — Joel’s sexy hand moving rhythmically over your ass, his plush lips slightly parted, his dark eyes focused on your puckered hole.
Mr Miller lowers his voice and asks, “Growin’ needy?”
Your eyes lock in the mirror. Fuck! A hot flash burns your lower belly when his black pupils meet yours. Sparks flying, gazes drawn to each other for a few long seconds, promising pleasure and trouble. The intense eye contact does something to you, drowns you in an ocean of lust, pulls you so deep you panic and hastily flick your eyes to your boyfriend who seems very pale.
“Sweetheart,” Joel calls you as if hating to share your attention with his son. You hum but don’t look at him.
“Do you give your permission for the next step? To open you up I need to eat your ass. Is that alright?”
“No!”
“Yes!”
Both you and Jack answer but you are the one calling the shots.
“Yes!” You repeat louder and raise your brows at Jack. Your boyfriend lets out a defeated sigh and drops his head.
“Good,” Joel says and gives your butt a light pat before cupping both asscheeks and spreading them apart. Cold air laps at your holes and you shiver. Joel smiles, probably noticing goosebumps on your skin.
“We’ll start slow.” In the mirror you watch him unhinge his jaw, stick his tongue out and lower his head.
You gasp when Mr Miller slowly licks your tight butthole. “Oh my God!”
Joel chuckles and repeats the depraved action. Soon he’s licking your asshole gingerly, his fingers digging into your flesh with passion. You’re softly moaning, your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. You’ve never had your ass eaten and the sensation is incredible. You wish he’d get lower and take care of your leaking pussy but fuckkk you can come just from Mr Miller’s tongue dancing over your little butthole. So when he parts from your ass, your needy whine rings in the room.
“I’ll be right back, sweetie.”
His wet lips are curled up at the corners, pride sparkling in his blown out eyes, Joel glances back at his son and announces,
“Now we gonna start openin’ her up with a tongue.” Your breathing hitches. You don’t see Jack’s expression because you can’t tear your eyes off Mr Miller in the mirror. “Gently push the tip inside her just so” — Joel leans down and his hot tongue prods at your ring, your mouth forms an O as you moan.
Joel mutters, “Slowly go in,” then his head begins moving up and down while his tongue slides into your ass deeper with every bop. He’s salivating onto your crack, the wetness dripping down to your pussy, covering your folds with the warm spit.
You are losing your mind over how amazing it feels, meanwhile Joel alternates between licking your ring and tongue-fucking it for what seems like hours or so you wish. His lewd slurping fills the room and mixes with your soft noises. You apply all your willpower to stop yourself from moaning like a whore out of respect for your boyfriend who is now sitting with his legs crossed, probably hard but too shocked to accept it.
“How you feelin’, baby?” Joel asks, licking his spit-covered lips.
“S—so good, Mr Miller,” you stutter, staring at him in the mirror with your half lidded eyes.
“See, she’s already gapin’ a little,” Joel says, showing your asshole to Jack.
“Hm-m,” Jack hums, his brows furrowed, his suspicious gaze trained on your ecstatic face.
“Now let’s add a finger.”
You squeak like a little mouse and your holes clench. Joel notices.
“Hey, don’t be scared, babygirl. You’re open nicely now. And I’m gonna be gentle, yeah?”
“Ok,” you reply and hold your breath.
“Nuh-uh. None of that. You should be breathin’, sweetheart.” He puts his warm heavy palm on your back, between your shoulder blades and rubs it up and down, giving you a rhythm.
“In— out—in— out.”
You follow his direction and soon your muscles relax, your eyes flutter close, your jaws unclench. It seems like your body is seeping into the mattress.
“I’m puttin’ one finger in.”
His voice is so quiet you barely register his words, barely notice his finger going inside your ass, miss a slight burn of the stretch, that’s how serene you are feeling.
When you finally open your eyes you see Mr Miller’s reflection thrusting his index finger in and out of your butthole, his eyes on your ring, his lip between his teeth.
“Wow,” you mutter, in awe of the hot sight and the new sensation. All your holes clench again and again, your pussy pushing your generous slick out and you catch yourself wanting Joel to fuck you.
"Another finger? Is that alright, sweetie?" With your heart pounding in your ears, Joel's raspy voice seems both close and far. You nod and mumble a shaky 'yes' before he inserts a second digit into your lubed up asshole. You moan, Joel growls, both at the same time. Your boyfriend curses under his breath.
"Hooooooly hell," you exhale against the pillow, clenching bedsheets with your clammy palms while Joel's scissoring your tight ring open. "This … it's amazing."
Joel pulls his fingers out of you and chuckles yet it comes out strained. You know it takes everything from him not to whip his cock out and fuck you right now. Jack seems to feel it, too.
"Dad, maybe that's enough?"
"No."
"No!"
Your yell drowns out Joel's reply. Your cheeks burning, lust clouding your mind and overtaking your body, you lift your head off the bed and glare at Jack.
"Mr Miller needs to... we need to learn what to do next. Right?"
Jack crosses his arms, his lower lip sticking out.
Completely disregarding his son's suggestion to stop, Joel nods at you and asks Jack as if it's some depraved sex ed class.
"She's nice and ready now. What's next?"
Jack blinks at his dad, a mixture of frustration and confusion plastered on his face. He shrugs. "I fuck her."
"Wrong!" Joel sits up straight and gives him a disappointed look. "Son, the most important thing about anal is consent."
You drop your head back on the pillow and nod with the 'obviously' expression meanwhile Joel continues.
"Even after you did all the necessary prep, you ask her again. And if she says 'no', you stop! Got it?"
You watch Joel in the mirror, his bushy brows furrowed, two obsidian eyes piercing Jack. He's not fucking around.
"Yeah."
"Huh?"
"Yes, sir," Jack mumbles. He looks so pitiful now you get scared of your pussy turning into the Sahara so you hastily move your eyes to the mirror with Joel's reflection in it.
You watch and feel your boyfriend's dad lean down to you. His hot breath fans your naked back, sending chills down your spine, as he asks,
"Can I fuck your ass now, baby?"
Your voice is wanton and needy, you're almost drooling onto the bed, as you reply,
"Yes, Mr Miller. But..?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Can I be on my back?”
Joel kisses your shoulder and coos,
“Sure thing.”
Your body buzzing with want, you slowly and awkwardly roll over. Your exposed tits jiggle as you get comfortable and Joel takes you in— your puffy pussy, your heaving belly, your nipples hard as diamonds, desire plastered on your face.
Jack nervously clears his throat and leaves his cuck chair.
“You ain’t really doing it, right?”
You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or his dad but Joel is the one who answers,
“I’m teachin’ you two. And this is the most crucial part. You wanna go in now and ruin all the progress?”
Jack closes and opens his mouth, but when you shake your head at his attempt to intervene, your boyfriend plops back in the chair, looking gobsmacked.
“This is insane,” he murmurs and you have to agree. You’re feeling insanely good.
With a nonchalant expression on his flushed face Joel grabs a pillow.
“Raise your hips for me, baby.”
You do what he asks and he quickly places it under your butt. When your hips are raised Joel hums in approval.
“Grab your knees for me, please.”
Like an obedient student you do it immediately.
“That’s it. Good girl.”
His praise, his scent - manly and dizzying, his warm smile, his obsidian eyes set between your thighs — all of it makes your blooming pussy contract and a drop of clear slick beads at your entrance.
Joel smirks, his dark gaze darts to yours and then back to your leaky hole. He opens his mouth but words die on his lips.
Instead he takes a sharp breath and climbs on the bed, grunting. With your body trembling in anticipation you watch Mr Miller kneel by your propped up butt, unzip his jeans, his back now to his son.
Just for your hungry eyes, he pulls his cock out. Big, veiny, hard as steel fuck machine. Hnggg!
You clench your jaws, killing a moan that rises in your throat from the sight of his manhood. You see a drop of precum on the slit and your mouth waters.
“Need more lube.” Joel squirts a generous amount on his hand and then strokes his cock spreading the liquid.
You squirm on the bed, fear and excitement coursing through your veins. He wants to stick that huge thing where?!
Joel seems to read the worry on your face. With one hand around the base of his stiff shaft, he brings the other to your knee and gives it a light squeeze.
“If you want me to stop I will.”
You don’t reply, just stare up at him, fear and desire playing tug-of-war in your heart.
“See?” Joel gets his son’s attention but doesn’t look away from you. “This sweet thing is unsure but she’s bein’ brave and doesn’t stop me.”
Jack sighs with relief from behind Joel’s broad body. He probably hopes that you’ve changed your mind.
Then the older man addresses you.
“You don’t have to be brave for me or anyone else, ok?” You hum while warmth spreads in your belly, reaches your clit and makes it throb. You open your mouth but words don’t come out. Joel gives you a knowing smile and offers,
“How ‘bout I open you up again with my fingers? Two steps forward, one step back.”
Jack’s chair creaks unhappily when you breathe out, “Yes, please.”
Joel gives you a curt nod and sits on his heels, his cock still hard and waiting. His strong hand circles around the back of your thigh as he keeps it steady for you.
Jack’s view is blocked by Joel so he doesn’t see when his dad traces your pussy hole with his fingers and brings the wetness down to your ring. His eyes dart up to yours just for a second, you see lust and mischief there.
“Alright, here we go,” he mumbles to himself, easing two lubed up fingers inside you. This time you take them easily, dull pain of the stretch is present but also welcomed. You moan.
Mr Miller closely watches your face twisting with pleasure while his fingers are fucking your butt. You watch him back, suddenly swept by a feeling so strong, you forget how to breathe for a second. There's no one else in the room, in the whole world, only you and this big older man, giving you an unforgettable experience, filling the hole that’s never been filled and you don’t want it to end, hate for him to stop. Stop giving, taking, watching you melt for him.
Ahhhh! A scorching heat floods your belly and hits you like a tsunami. Your core walls clench once, twice, your head digs into the pillow underneath, your eyes close and a loud moan slips out of your mouth. You’re shaking and crying ecstatic tears, your ass squeezing Joel’s thick digits, your pussy contracting around nothing.
“D— did you just come? Jack’s cold tone brings you back to reality as if a bucket of icy water was thrown over your head. Still jerking with climax you snap your eyes open, your breathing heavy, and see Joel’s lopsided smile in front of you.
Fuck! Your cheeks and neck burn and you cover your face with your hands, embarrassed by unraveling in front of your boyfriend’s dad. With his fingers in your ass.
Joel comes to your rescue. He gently rubs your thigh with his paddle of a hand and coos,
“She’s one of a kind, Jack. The anal stimulation isn’t as pleasurable for women as it is for men. In the right hands though… you did wonderful, sweetie.”
You bite your lip, hiding a grin that’s about to bloom on your face, and grip your knees tighter.
“We can stop now if…,” Joel starts.
“No!” You cut him off and push your knees to your chest. “I want to be ready. For the real thing.”
“I’ll give you the real thing,” Joel whispers so quietly it’s barely audible but you hear. Your eyes lock as he plants his palm on the bed by your side and hovers over your lower half.
“Ready, sweetheart?”
After you say ‘yes’ Mr Miller glances back in the direction of his son.
“Jus’ the tip at first. Maybe only. Depends on how she takes it.”
He looks down at you with that soft but feral gaze of his and talks to Jack.
“Watch her face closely when you push inside.”
Joel’s hot leaky cockhead kisses your pussy hole and you gasp, your entrance winking at his manhood, inviting it to come in. Joel whispers,
“Only teasin’.” You smile and shake your head at the man. He gives you a wink and drags his tip down along the delicate skin between your pussy and asshole and then nudges your tight ring.
“If she scrunches her pretty nose, stop. Means she’s hurtin’.”
Joel presses his crown against your asshole and applies pressure. Your mouth parts when he starts pushing it into your asshole, the stretch far bigger than with his fingers. You take a few deep breaths, not stopping him, craving to be fucked.
“Yeah, breathe for me, baby. In and out. Like I taught ya.”
In! in! in! your pussy screams and throbs with the rhythm of your heartbeat, your body desperate to be ruined by your boyfriend’s dad.
Mr Miller pauses and closes his eyes, his forearm muscles tense with restraint, the veins of his hand that’s wrapped around his shaft are bulging. He speaks, trying to keep his voice steady.
“The most difficult thing now—is to control yourself — all you wanna do — is shove your dick deep inside her— to the hilt—- she feels so fuckin’ good.”
His arousal and your desire merge together and form an electric cloud around you two, the scent of sex heavy in the air. Mr Miller moves another inch deeper and you whimper.
“But you musn’t,” he grunts to his son or to himself. “You should be in control— think of her first and your pleasure second —Yeahhh?”
The last word sounds like a moan and you smile dizzily, ecstatic to see how much bliss you’re giving him. Joel pushes in some more and then looks into your eyes. “Wanna see?”
You nod eagerly and place another pillow under your head, propping it up to get a better view.
The sight before your eyes takes your breath away. Joel’s big hand wrapped around his girthy cock, the veins on his shaft thumping, glistening with lube. But the best thing is your stretched asshole, hugging Joel’s tip buried inside.
“Wow,” you breathe out. Joel smirks, his smile lopsided and boyish. He drops his head to your butt and asks,
“Wanna stop here? Done so good already.”
You crane your neck and glance at Jack, expecting him to scream ‘Yes! Stop! Now!’ but he’s hunched over in his cuck chair with a blank stare, chewing on the nail of his thumb.
You bring your gaze back up at Joel and purr,
“I want all of it.”
Joel nods and thrusts in.
Mr Miller’s fucking your ass like it’s been made solemnly for this purpose. His hands are gripping your spread thighs, leaving marks on your soft skin, his hips snapping against your asscheeks, drowning the room in the lewd Slap slap slap! Sounds.
By now you’ve lost all the composure and your loud moans are flowing freely from your lips, mixing with Joel’s animalistic growls.
“Yeahhhh.. good girl…she’s a fast learner… takin’ me like a champ.”
“Thanks, Mr Miller,” you mewl with your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you feel a second orgasm building. Hungry for it you lick your fingers, reach for your throbbing clit and start rubbing it while Joel’s steel shaft is massaging your insides.
“Lemme… want some help?” Joel asks, consent king as always.
“Yes, please.”
Not minding his son watching you two from the back, Joel brings his calloused thumb to your puffy clit and starts drawing infinities over it.
You arch your back, losing your mind over how amazing it feels. Your ass is full of Joel’s cock, but your neglected pussy hole is crying desperately. You look for your boyfriend behind Joel’s broad back. He still looks shell shocked, his widened eyes lowered, and you realize that he’s watching his dads heavy balls slap against his girlfriend’s asscheeks.
Opps.
“Mr Miller,” you whisper, staring at the older man again, “Could you..?”
You lift your hand, stick two fingers out and move them up and down, fingering an invisible pussy.
Joel flashes you a knowing smile.
“Gotcha, sweetie.” He glances back at his son and raises his voice, talking to you,
“You strugglin’, baby? Ok if I help you relax?”
You consent loudly so Jack could hear and the next second Mr Miller changes hands and his dry index and middle fingers easily enter your sopping pussy.
Yeahhhh! You whimper, so full of his fat cock and digits, it feels like you’re going to come apart at the seams.
Joel’s massaging your g-spot with two fingers, his thumb working your clit, his cock relentlessly rutting into your ass. You’ve never been fucked this good and you try to hold off your second climax, hating for the sex to end.
But Joel’s too hot, too experienced and soon you come with a wail, arching your sweaty back off the bed and clamping Joel’s hips with your thighs. Blinding ecstasy is coursing through your body, your cunt pulsing around Joel’s fingers, your asshole choking his cock so hard he stills.
“Here— we g—goooHngggg….” he roars, retreats his fingers out of your pussy and covers you with his huge frame. He pushes his face into your sweaty neck but holds his weight over your thrashing body.
“Where?” He chokes, his chest rumbling with groans, and you wrap your arms around his broad back and press your naked tits to him, mumbling into his ear,
“Inside my ass, Mr Miller. Please.”
His whole body tenses up over you and he begins squirting his hot cum deep inside your butt. The warmth of his load fills you more and more, every erratic thrust of his cock pushes the sticky spent back into you and you hold him tight, wishing to be stuffed to the brim. It doesn’t take long with how much he comes and soon his jizz covers your asscheeks and his balls, sticking them together like glue. You feel filthy and sexy, with your boyfriend’s dad busting inside you, the former having a perfect view of your asshole sucking the older man’s cum in. Too abundant it rolls down your crack and onto Jack’s bed.
Both of you are panting when Joel carefully pulls his cock out of your asshole and falls on the bed next to you, still fully clothed except for the pulled down jeans and boxers.
“Dad, put your dick away,” Jack grumbles.
“Yeah yeah.” Joel tucks his cock back in, leaving his jeans open. He sounds exhausted. You cover yourself with a sheet suddenly remembering that you’re naked next to your boyfriend’s dad.
You turn your head to him resting next to you, his forearm covering his closed eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly, his leg dangling off the edge of the bed. He’s so handsome you want to bite him. The man had a full day of work and then rocked your world. You find it incredibly hot but also feel guilty for exhausting him even more.
You watch Mr Miller for a few moments, warmth spreading in your belly and chest, until he takes a deep breath, opens his eyes and turns his head to you.
“Dad?” Jack calls impatiently, hurrying the man to leave but Joel doesn’t spare him a glance and asks you,
“How you feelin’, baby?”
He nods down at your pussy but you know he’s asking about your butt.
“I’m ok.” You squirm on the bed, trying to access your state. “A little sore but good.”
“Good,” Joel repeats with a warm smile. You’re staring at each other silently, his gaze soft and warm, grinning like two fools. You want to kiss him but stop yourself. It’s inappropriate.
Then you remember where his cock was just a few minutes ago and giggle.
“What is it?” Joel asks, his eyes dart between yours and then slide to your lips.
You shake your head, silence thick and loaded between you two.
Jack rips it apart as he clears his throat.
“Thanks, dad. Fucking hell. You can go now.”
He gets up from the chair and crosses his arms, frowning at the two of you. You wonder if he’s going to break up with you after this. Whatever.
Joel sits up with a grunt and gets out of the bed. He sways a little and you smile proudly — you did it to him.
“Thank you, Mr Miller.” You sit up, holding the sheet over your body. He zips up his jeans and winks,
“Don’t mention it, baby.”
Jack scoffs. Joel heads to the door but as he passes his son he pauses.
“Get her a wet towel. And some water,” he commands. “So .. if she took my cock, she wouldn’t even notice yours. You’re welcome.”
With that he pats his son’s shoulder and leaves.
Who needs Jack, amirite? Maybe Joel can teach them something else?🤔 Thank you for reading! Please, leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed the story💞
something about fingering dennis whitaker always gets to me. he’s in your lap, his hands resting on your shoulders as you kiss him. blunt nails digging into the flesh beside your collar bones, creating a prominent but appreciated sting. small airy whimpers escape the gap between his kiss reddened lips while his hips roll into yours. it’s clumsy with a rhythm you can’t even pick up on. dennis is bare, you having stripped him long ago.
the expanse of his body littered in little blooming bruises from your mouth. his chest rises and falls heavily, while he attempts to focus on kissing you and not the two fingers that are currently fucking into him. your fingers specifically. middle and ring, slowly thrusting while he attempts to match your pace.
lashes fluttering as he takes in your saliva like it’s the only thing that’ll satisfy his thirst. “that.. that feels so good m-momma..” its hushed as he talks, like a confession rather than a statement. it comes off his tongue slowly, letting the rather embarrassing words fall from his mouth.
“I—I love you.” he whimpers, pure adoration seeping through his watery slurred words.
it’s all broken up by breathy gasps that ghost warmly over your lips. his mind slowing down from the pleasure, it’s all too much for his lips to keep up with.
“I love you too baby..”
then hes kissing you harder. lips pressing into yours with a renowned desperation. licking into your mouth sloppily, hands now gripping your cheeks to tilt your head as to deepen it. even squeezing your cheeks the smallest amount to open you up wider to him. it’s a mess of clashing teeth, bumped noses and even a small cut to your lip on account of his rather sharp canines.
but rather than pulling away he whines licking up the small smear of blood then sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. tongue laving over the wound drawing the rest of the blood into his mouth.
hips continuing to work down on your fingers, instead of his previous uncoordinated grinding he’s taken to bouncing down on your digits. ass barely lifting before he pushes back down with surprising force for bow shaky he seems. thighs tensing with every drop he gives.
he’s a steady weight in your lap, all firm muscle. layered over top with soft skin and just enough pudge to grab in certain places.
“you’re—so pretty den.”
“am I? y-you’ve got me beat in terms of l-looks.” he stutters out against your mouth a small laugh accompanying it.
just then your fingers slide a little deeper, partly from his movements and your thrusting. hitting that special spot inside of him, it’s warm and pliable. causing a pathetic yelp to leave him, his back arching as his head falls into the crook of your neck. mouth separating from yours in a web of spit as shivers of pleasure run up and down the length of his spine. arms wrapping around you tightly, his hips begin to tremble as he stirs against you harder.
slick lips coming up to kiss at your ear, licking over the shell of it. before speaking in whimpery broken sentences. “d-do—do that again pl-please?” he pleads. barely able to even formulate the words properly.
“yeah? that feel good denny?” the pads of your fingers stroking against him resulting in a high pitched keen from the top of his throat.
you feel him nod against the crook of your neck. something wet that you assume is drool leaking against the skin there.
“mhm..so good momma..feels s’damn—ngh!”
“go on den..touch yourself for me, please?”
pulling back with a deep breath his gaze finds yours low eyes—almost closed in fact. the length of his lashes just barely gracing the tops of his pink cheeks. a stream of saliva clings to his chin as he licks his lips. he’s so pretty, face flushed a deep red and brows knitted together.
your hand slows, as to give him a fair chance at responding. fingers staying deeply nestled in the warmness of him. biting back a smile every time you feel his hole twitch around the length of your digits.
“th-then you’re gonna..?”
you grin leaning in to lick the spit off his face all the way up to his mouth. kissing him softly once you reach his plush bottom lip, it’s only for only a moment before you pull away to stare at his widened blue eyes.
“fuck you? course i am, just wanna see my boy come at least once before I do.”
he gives a confused blink “but— you always make me..finish when you do?”
you give a casual shrug, grabbing one of his hands and placing it over top his weeping neglected cock. eliciting a sharp moan from the man. his hips bucking up harshly at the new stimulation involuntarily pushing your fingers deeper. his eyes falling shut for a second.
“wanna see you do it yourself..it’ll be cute.”
dennis gives a playful scowl, face morphing into one of slight annoyance. its a weak attempt honestly. “..cute? really?”
you pout leaning in to brush your nose with his kissing over his cheek warmly. your hand making his wrap around his length to stroke at it slowly. guiding him through the timid movements.
“thought you liked being momma’s cute baby?”
he gasps “—I do! I do..mhm..”
his defiance if you could even call it that, melting away the second you start making him jerk himself off. the warmth of your hand and his fizzling out any thoughts of further sarcasm. the quip he had ready floating from his brain the minute the pleasure starts up.
“how much?” your lips find his neck nipping and kissing your way down over the already marked flesh. giving a particularly hard bite right over his collarbone.
cw: f! reader, alludes to smut, kinda bossy rabbot (they just want to take care of you!!!), sugar baby reader? kinda?, reader doesn’t know what a day off is to save herself, these two are gonna get more gray trying to take care of you i swear
a/n: baby’s first smau !!! just a little idea i had in mind and wanted to see how it would flow as a text chain !! i hope y’all enjoy it xoxo
without further ado… you invite emma over for a sleepover at rabbot’s place 🫠💗
୨ৎ ─── ୨ৎ─── ୨ৎ
you and emma are cuddled up on your bed, giggling and chatting away about what movie you’ll watch before bed.
neither of you notice the way you’re petting each other’s hair, running your fingers down each other’s arms, toying with the straps of your matching pajamas.
you take the lace strap and drag it down emma’s arm, muttering a soft, “so pretty.” your breathing stutters, eyes becoming heavy as you both start to explore each other’s bodies with soft touches.
emma looks up at you with doe eyes, whining a little as she grinds her hips on your thigh, moving her hand closer to your clothed pussy.
“these are pretty too.” she murmurs as she drags the waistband of your shorts down, showing off your lace panties.
you blush, smiling, “my daddies got those for me.” emma pulls them down further, fingers ghosting over your clit causing you to buck into her hand. “we should play together.”
emma looks at you wide eyed, “how?”
a couple minutes later you’re on top of her, showing her just the right angle on where to slot your pussies, grinding against one another.
it feels so good, both of your wetness mixed together, making the most filthy sound. emma’s moaning under you, eyes closed and face flushed. your head is thrown back, hands playing with your tits—just like your daddies taught you. <3
over the sound of both your sweet moans, you don’t hear the knocking at the door. you don’t really hear when that same door opens, jack stepping through to check on you girls.
“girls? robby and i are heading to bed. you both good? need anyth—fuck.”
you open your eyes at his gravelly voice, smiling sweetly at him with hooded eyes. “hi, daddy.”
“you playin’ with emma, baby?” he walks further into the room, standing at the foot of the bed while he looks down at you.
you nod sweetly as you continue to grind your clit against emma’s shamelessly, your moans filling the room. “emma feels so soooo good, daddy.”
he pets your head with his big hand, moving your hair out of your face, trailing his fingers over your mouth and neck. “i bet she does, baby.”
you bite your lip, closing your eyes as you continue fucking yourself against emma, and jack takes a step back, moving towards the door.
“well, i’ll leave you girls alone. good night, baby. love you.”
you moan, head feeling cloudy as you respond. “love you daddy.”
jack chuckles, looking down at emma’s fucked out face, “good night, emma.”
emma opens her eyes to look at abbot and blushes, “night mr. abbot.”
hand on the doorknob, he groans out a “fuck”, getting one last look at you both before heading back to bed with robby. <33333
with jack abbot dating you and dennis, the poor man never gets a break.
he’s in his 50s and dealing with the libidos of two 20-something year olds.
jack genuinely cannot catch a break, if he is home his cock is in one of you.
he has a bottle of viagra in every room of the house and that’s still not enough.
he thought that you and dennis would be able to tire eachother out but the two of you can’t get through sex completely.
you and dennis get too excited so you fuck like bunnies and then get burnt out before you can do aftercare.
jack learned this the hard way when he came home from a shift to see you and dennis cuddling and crying because you couldn’t handle aftercare without him.
it’s a lot to adjust to, but jack abbot is the man best equipped to handle it.
and, when he wakes up to you and dennis cuddling with him, he knows he’s in the right place.
personally i think that if you and dennis were dating jack, jack would spoil you no matter what you did, and be hard on dennis no matter what he does.
it’s not because jack doesn’t love dennis, he just loves his girl a little bit more because well… you’re his sweet girl.
jack would buy you all the nicest things and treat you like his little princess even if you misbehaved because that’s what his girl deserves and because “dennis can buy his own things sweet girl, he has a job.”
mind you, dennis is way better at following directions than you are.
you would get rewarded for the simplest things.
if you gave jack a kiss even though you were in a bad mood, he would reward you with his face between your thighs for hours.
for dennis, kisses ARE rewards.
also, dennis never gets the soft sex, that’s all for you.
but you can’t blame jack, you’re his sensitive little girl!
you need to be pampered or you get sad, but dennis can take a little bit of roughness.
you can’t think of a single time that jack has punished you, and dennis probably got punished 20 minutes ago.
jack’s punishments are never bad, he still loves his boy.
a usual method is ignoring dennis.
when dennis doesn’t listen jack will not speak to him and shower you with even more affection.
thankfully, jack lets you talk to dennis even if jack is ignoring him.
(mostly because you will throw a fit if you’re not allowed to touch dennis who is your glorified stuffed animal.)
whenever you throw fits, you ignore jack which jack cannot stand.
that’s why he spoils you so much, he can’t handle his sweet girl being angry.
interestingly, whenever you’re mad at dennis and not jack, jack immediately goes into meditation mode.
even if jack is mad at dennis he still tries to calm you down and repair you and dennis’s relationship.
he’ll say, “baby, you know that dennis really didn’t mean it like that. come on sweet girl you know you love your teddy bear.”
jack never wants dennis to feel left out because at the end of the day, dennis is his sweet boy too.
