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Summary: You’ve been babysitting Sarah Miller forever. One day, you’re surfing the web on her dad’s computer, and you find some…unusual things in his search history.
Or, Joel likes to jerk off to your lookalike on PornHub. It’s time you showed him what the real thing is like.
Note: ‘Just call me if anyone else checks in…and by anyone, I mean any swingin dick’ is a line from No Country for Old Men
Word count: 12.7k
Purple slime had been Sarah’s idea.
It was an innocent thing, really. The four-year-old had practically been bouncing on the balls of her feet, eyes wide and shining with excitement when she’d begged—‘Can we pleeeeease?!’—and who were you to tell her no?
You’d only be breaking one small rule of Joel’s, after all. One silly little admonition he’d made before leaving for work the first day you’d started babysitting for him. That had been over a year ago, and he hadn’t even sounded that serious when he’d said it. He probably wouldn’t mind if you bent the rule this one time at Sarah’s behest.
‘Don’t go in the computer room, please.’
Don’t use Joel’s desktop. Don’t rifle through any of the drawers in Joel’s office—it was a mess, but everything was in its place, according to him. Just don’t go in there.
But in exchange for Sarah agreeing to take her nap that day without protest, you’d promised to order her slime.
Purple, gooey, glittery, sticky stuff for her new collection.
You weren’t sure when the fuck putty had become the plaything of choice for kids in Pre-K, but you hadn’t been in a place to judge; whatever Sarah wanted to do, so long as it was safe for her to play with, was totally fine by you.
It was just one rule.
Surely if Mr. Miller knew how badly his daughter wanted the slime, he’d be fine with you booting up his computer once. That was what you kept telling yourself, anyway.
What kept humming through your mind as the desktop came to life and you toggled straight for Google Chrome.
Be quick, be quiet, it’s fine. It’s fine.
Purple goo—it was safe. Innocent. Completely justifiable.
What could the sweet, old, forty-something and forever polite Joel Miller possibly have to hide on this machine that made it wrong for you to buy this one simple toy?
You reached for the keyboard and inhaled a quick breath.
Then you typed one letter, and your heart nearly seized.
P…
…ornhub.com
It was the very first thing that appeared in the search bar.
You couldn’t unsee it. Instinctively, your hand clamped over your mouth, and your eyes widened. You couldn’t help but read the four URLs that immediately dropped down below the first; they were just so garishly inviting.
Hot, Naughty Babysitter gets POUNDED by her Boss!
Slutty Babysitter Gets Railed from Behind and Loves It
Big Dick Boss Gives Babysitter a Passionate Raw Fuck
‘I’ve Never Done This!’ Babysitter Deepthroats Cock
“Oh…my gosh,” you said, words muffled by your palm.
You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. It was just too bizarre, too far out of character, too unlike your boss.
The man had scarcely said ten words to you altogether that didn’t relate to your job in some way or another. He rarely ever engaged in casual confab, and he certainly wasn’t the type to flirt, or make you uncomfortable in the slightest. Frankly, in all the time you’d been babysitting, you always thought you were just…invisible to Joel Miller.
Not this. Never this.
You were still staring at the screen when you realized that you’d missed one URL title from the list. It was long.
It was the most unnerving one of all, you came to see.
Babysitter Lounging Poolside in Hot Red Bikini Gets a BIG Surprise—Her Old Boss Teaches Her How to FUCK
Your hand lowered from your face. It trembled, contemplating, before coming to rest atop the mouse.
Something about this seemed familiar. Strangely…off.
You couldn’t explain it, but your head and your heart and your hand gravitated to that one odd link in particular. You hadn’t even meant to move the mouse. Or press it with your finger. But there you went, following your instincts like some dumb, brainless ditz, and then the screen was changing. Going dark with the shift to an adult site before brightening anew with the thumbnail.
It was paused on one frame. Your jaw slackened.
The girl staring back from the scene was you.
Or looked exactly, uncannily like you anyway.
It was then that you noticed what she was wearing, too—what you guessed wouldn’t be on her body for long—and you glanced down to your own shoulder. Just like your on-screen doppelgänger, you were wearing the same bikini in a bright, cherry-red hue beneath your tank top.
You wore it under your clothes damn near every day, indulging in the Millers’ backyard pool more often than not, and even being allowed to swim there on the days Sarah had summer camp—Joel had been so obliging.
So accommodating and sweet.
You never thought he’d be seeking your fucking twin online on a porn site after watching you traipse around his property wearing it. Your gut clenched; you clicked.
“Hey, sweetheart! Everything go OK?”
The voice that rumbled through the speakers was low. Male. Vaguely paternal and with a hint of a Southern lilt.
You swallowed, knowing exactly where this was going.
You weren’t sure why you were even watching when you could already predict what would become of it. The camera panned over a body identical to yours; it landed on a face that was smiling and sweet and so like your own you almost had to question whether it might not be you after all. Had you somehow forgotten this secret porn alter ego in a bout of amnesia? You kept watching.
The girl bit her bottom lip and let out the phoniest giggle.
“Yes, sir. Perfectly fine. Do you like my new bikini?”
Be so fucking serious, you thought, critically.
Then you remembered it was porn, not an Oscar-winning film. You saw the camera tilt down to her tits, and you had to admit, she had a great rack. A bit nicer than yours.
For a beat, you wondered if Joel had thought the same.
You had to batter those thoughts away, because the next second brought a big, burly hand onto the screen. It reached for the girl with her perfect, perky breasts and it kneaded them softly. No further pretense or prelude was needed—they just jumped right in and let it happen, like this was a normal thing for a babysitter and a boss to do.
Maybe in some other universe it was. In a world where a girl your age could just smile, and bat her eyes, and let them roll back gently as a whimper crossed her lips and she begged him, ‘More, daddy, more!’ this was all okay.
The man squeezed the flesh harder. She whined, and he proceeded to push the red nylon aside and expose the whole expanse of her breast—and holy shit, even the nipple looked like yours. Your mouth opened wider, and for a moment, it was like you couldn’t breathe as you watched that old, sun-kissed hand fondle the breast of a girl who looked just like you. Who was peering up at a man who sounded almost like Joel, murmuring, ‘Attagirl.’
You’d heard your boss say that once.
It had been such a silly, off-handed thing that you doubted he even remembered saying it. But one time, you’d struggled to open the passenger door to his truck before he drove you home. Once you’d narrowly managed to pry it open and slide into your seat, he’d laughed and rumbled: ‘Attagirl.’ Your face had warmed.
Just like your cheeks were doing now, all hot and bothered and desperate to hear more. Presently, the man slid the top off of the girl’s chest, and her breasts hung freely. You could hear him groan behind the camera at the sight, and not too long after that, before he could reach to touch her tits again, she was crawling on her knees toward him. Shuffling easily and expertly across the lawn chair and undoing the belt, button, and zip of his pants in a matter of seconds. A hand smoothed over her head, and you could see her preen beneath his touch.
Before she’d even wrapped her lips around his cock, your stomach was churning. Your fingers were stirring from the mouse and moving gently—again, of their own volition, it seemed—toward the waistband of your own bottoms. It was sick, admittedly. So wrong to be wanting to touch yourself to the very same video your boss had indulged in himself, in the very same chair he had done the deed. But you couldn’t help it. Your fingers slipped under the the fabric of your shorts, then your bikini, then your throat let out the tiniest noise upon seeing a cock appear on-screen. It was abnormally large, of course.
Silently, you wondered if Joel’s might not look the same. Your stomach flipped as soon as the girl took it in her mouth, and your index and middle fingers landed on your clit. You barely needed to touch to feel a jolt of pleasure.
Her head bobbed up and down. You felt powerless to do anything else but rub. And circle. And moan the slightest bit when you saw her coat his length with her shiny spit.
You heard that your noises mirrored hers. You didn’t care. Really, it felt as though you were in a trance, and you couldn’t stop watching, or touching, until you’d had your fill. Like Mr. Miller had done himself. It was all too much.
Before you even realized it, five minutes had passed, the man and woman on-screen were shifting from oral to raw, penetrative sex, and you were nearing your peak. Right before the cock that had been lodged down the girl’s throat could slide into her wet, glistening cunt, you felt your stomach lurch. You rubbed harder, watching the fat and leaking tip of the man’s cock tease through her folds, and just as he was about to slide in and you could finally find your release…a door banged open downstairs.
You almost screamed.
As quickly as you could, you yanked your hand out of your pants and clicked out of that browser even faster. The second you heard footfalls on the steps, you scampered out of there. Half-sprinting, half-tip-toeing down the hall and toward the bathroom, before halting at the door. You made your presence known with one light stomp of your foot, pretending to be turning and walking out, and as soon as you did, Joel was right there. Staring.
Sweating.
Scrubbing at his face with one weary hand, before taking a rag and wiping it through his beard. He sighed heavily.
“Long day?” you chirped while trying to mask the panic.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Joel answered, voice wan, “How’s my little terror? Asleep? She give ya any trouble?”
Just asked me to buy her a toy online and inadvertently led me to find your internet Spank Bank archives full of women who look like me. Other than that, it was fine.
“I put her down about an hour ago. She was great.”
You forced a smile, and Joel seemed to believe it.
“Perfect. Need me to give you a ride home?”
“No, no, you should stay here with Sar—”
“‘S’alright. Tommy’s right downstairs.”
Of course he’d brought him home.
“No, really, I can walk. It’s fine—”
“Don’t be silly. C’mon, kiddo.”
Kiddo.
Kiddo.
The man had been jerking off to the thought of you for who knows how long, and now he called you ‘kiddo’?
You hated how arousing the nickname sounded from him
You despised yourself for rubbing your clit in his office.
Most of all, you loathed the way your panties had gotten wet the last time you’d climbed into his truck and heard that word crawl off of his old, drawling tongue: ‘Attagirl.’
Reluctantly, you nodded your head. You followed him downstairs and hoped the car door wouldn’t stick again.
He had to stop.
It was no longer a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ his dick would lead him straight off a cliff, and today, Joel was starting to think that precipice was looking extra nice. Tempting.
Almost as inviting as the divot he could see at the small of your back, glimmering with a couple hot beads of sweat under the midafternoon sun. He swallowed.
Sarah was at camp today. You’d had the time to yourself, and the weather was blistering hot, and of course, where else would you be but his backyard? He’d told you ad nauseum, ever since you started babysitting his kid, that his pool was open to you whenever you so chose to go.
Presently, Joel wished he could revoke that invitation.
Seeing how you were flipped on your stomach, body all soft and warm and splayed out on one of his deck chairs—wearing that fucking red swimsuit, of all things—Joel was left to ogle from his office window, and inside, he felt like a certified pervert. Arguably, he was. His old, worn hands had all but glided to find his mouse as soon as he’d sat down at his desk and saw you out there, and no sooner had his cursor found Chrome than his cock started to stir. He’d wanted to watch. If not you in all your bare, sun-baked glory, then surely the woman he could see getting her throat and cunt stuffed on his screen.
What the fuck was wrong with him?
Was he really that much of a gooner he couldn’t let his kid’s babysitter lounge outside without stroking his dick?
Shit. He had the bottle of lotion in one hand and the box of tissues in the other in no time at all. He ripped three free Kleenex aside and reached for his mouse once more.
He was pissed at himself. He toggled over to the Hub with a grunt, and in no time at all, had you pulled up.
Joel liked to pretend it was you, anyway.
If he couldn’t have the sweet young thing every swinging dick in this town would’ve killed to have himself, he could rub one out to a girl exactly like you. He could fantasize.
He could skip the video to 8:53 on the dot, as he always did, and he could rub himself raw. It wouldn’t take long.
He always fast-forwarded to that exact part, without fail, because she moaned like you then. He’d never forget it.
It had almost been six months since it happened, and he still remembered that sound as clear as day. You’d been hauling your backpack off the couch in the living room, having stuffed the thing full with more school supplies than you could feasibly carry, and Joel had been in the kitchen, unseen. You’d lifted the bag with effort, and once you had, you let out a soft but audible whine. You dropped the bag back down to your feet, and when you bent to try again, you’d moaned fully. It was like the stretch had made you feel good, or something. You’d huffed and managed to get the weight slung over your back with modest success, then left, but Joel had been changed. Too quickly had he retreated to his office and swore to find any clip where a moan sounded like that.
“Please! Feels like a fucking dre-e-e-e-e-eam—oh, OH!”
Granted, the dialogue was cheesy, but the sound after it was identical to the one you’d made. Joel repeated it.
He hadn’t even noticed, but he’d already lathered his hand and cock with lotion. He was scrubbing vigorously while your twin wiggled her hips and begged her co-star to put it in, to quit teasing her pussy like that, can’t you see I’m practically dripping for you, daddy? Look at it!
Unfortunately, Joel’s head was turned the other direction—away from the screen, and toward the window—watching you where you sat out on the lawn.
He stroked harder. He groaned.
You had just turned onto your back. Your tits looked incredible. Joel reckoned they’d look even better with his dick pushed up between them, and at the thought, his mouth watered. His lips were slightly parted, and he feared he might drool. What a sight he must have been then: jaw slack, lids heavy, cock in hand, and moan after moan bubbling out of his throat. He got closer to climax.
“Gonna teach ya, honey. Teach ya how to please a man.”
It wasn’t long after that that Joel heard the girl whine in pleasure—the man behind her had notched in the first inch and told her to behave—and meanwhile, he watched your chest rise and fall, rise and fall outside. It was calm. Unlike the girl being taught how to fuck poolside, you remained untouched. Spotless. Placid and serene while your hands picked up a magazine and began flipping through it. While Joel’s orgasm crested inside him, he wondered if you’d ever want to try something like that. Roleplay. Or would it be fake at all? Had you ever been touched by a man, shown the best ways to give and receive pleasure, or was it all brand new, like it was supposed to be for the woman on his screen? Joel panted, and he fucked his hand harder. He groaned.
“Oh, daddy, it’s so big! Feels so good going inside me!”
“You love gettin’ fucked by an older man, don’t you?”
“Yes, daddy, yes! Please don’t stop—oh, OHHH!”
Joel wanted to be the only older man you had.
If he wasn’t the first, he sure as fuck could be the last. Give you all the dizzying, euphoric feelings your body deserved and stretch you open gently for the taking.
He could teach you so much, ruin you for any oth—
Shit.
What the fuck was this asshole doing here?
At the back gate, he saw his neighbor Dieter.
The man strolled across the lawn, and Joel’s orgasm receded in a blink. He was walking right over to you.
No. No, no, no. Joel released his dick from its vice grip and felt the thing twitch in indignation. Meanwhile, the sound of skin on skin continued to flood his eardrums from out of the computer speakers, where the happy babysitter-boss duo was hitting a brutal pace. The girl let out one over-the-top shriek of pleasure, and Joel clicked pause. He toggled out of the browser. Then he redirected his gaze out the office window, where his own girl was being accosted by Dieter. His blood boiled with anger.
Who did this creep think he was? The man never so much as looked Joel’s way or approached his property unless it was to ask to be ‘lent’ some booze or else ask after some friend, relative, or coworker Dieter wanted to be introduced to—he was perennially unemployed and a fuckboy bachelor to his core. The last Joel had heard, he’d spent the last year in Los Angeles, or Paris, or some other too-big city to chase his singing and acting dreams
And here he was now, hitting on his poor, defenseless babysitter. Joel wouldn’t stand for that in any world.
Though his dick was still erect, it had softened some, too. His rage facilitated that, and him shoving his length back in his jeans, zipping it up, and all but punching the desktop off made it spongier still. He walked like he was mad at the floor beneath his boots. He wasn’t sure why he was feeling so defensive—he had just been rubbing one out to the sight of you less than five minutes ago—but now wasn’t the time for thinking. He had to act.
Protect, if he had to.
What if his neighbor wanted to go for a swim, too?
Joel would drown the man with his two bare hands if he so much as reached for your bikini-clad form. He stalked loudly down the hall and searched for a less sweaty shirt to wear, then some deodorant, then a comb. He peered in the bathroom mirror and saw his black-and-grey locks all out of sorts, and for a second, he contemplated taking a shower. You’d probably be able to smell his unsatisfied desire from outside. He looked, and felt, a bit unhinged.
Joel decided he didn’t care, before plodding downstairs.
Outside, you lay in the same position he’d seen you last. Your hand was shielding your face. You were smiling.
And beside you, Dieter was grinning even bigger.
Joel made a beeline down the porch steps, then across the lawn, like his life might’ve depended on it. Scowling.
“—but getting cast in Gladiator II would’ve been wild—”
Of course Dieter was yapping about his failed acting career. Of course. Joel could hear him drone on as he approached, though he didn’t register a word of what he said. Instead, he waved a hand. He feigned a calm tone:
“Dieter! How’s it going?”
And he slowed down, too.
Just as he drew in, his neighbor volleyed a look his way. Joel couldn’t miss how his smile twitched down a little.
“Joel.”
Accepting a cordial hand in greeting.
“Doing alright, how ‘bout yourself?”
Joel nodded fine, just fine and offered some offhand remark about not having seen him since last summer, and Dieter couldn’t resist the chance to puff up and mention a school he’d been attending. Joel didn’t hear it, or give a shit. His gaze was already trained on you. Your own flitted from Dieter, to Joel, then to Dieter again, and your lips were smiling kindly enough. You seem humored.
“Mr. Bravo just got back from Berlin,” you beamed.
Then Dieter met your look and shook his head.
“Dieter, sweetie, Dieter. Or Dee, if you want.”
Joel almost wanted to vomit in his mouth.
“Germany, huh? What brings you here?”
No sense in beating around the bush.
Joel meant to ask why Dieter was here, in his backyard, with his babysitter, of course. Why the fuck he was eyeing you like that, like your tits were two Emmys and the only way to earn it himself was to stare as long, and as hard, as possible. Joel cleared his throat instinctively.
Dieter blinked and cast a glance back to him.
“Oh, here. Yeah. I, um…I just wanted to see if you had that— that—” He snapped his fingers, “That leafblower.”
Leafblower?
He was so full of shit.
“My leafblower,” Joel repeated.
It was fucking July, for crying out loud.
Evidently, his neighbor didn’t seem to care. He met Joel’s gaze with an even look, and he nodded his head.
He doubled down: “Yeah, the leafblower. I’ve had some debris pile up in my yard since I’ve been gone, y’know.”
“Are you gonna be in Austin long? Or are you going back overseas once you’ve had that casting call?” you asked.
You cocked your head with genuine curiosity. Joel grit his teeth, but he tried not to let his discontent show anyplace else on his face. A muscle might’ve jumped when he saw how smugly Dieter smirked at your intrigue.
“Oh, I’ll be here long enough, don’t you worry,” he said.
That was it.
Joel gestured to the shed in the back corner of the yard, about to tell Dieter that the leafblower was in there, go knock yourself out, when his neighbor cut in once again.
“In the meantime, maybe I’ll have you babysit for me. I hate to steal Sarah’s pal, but maybe you can split your time between my place and Joel’s. What do you think?”
You blinked a little quicker, like you weren’t quite sure what to say at first. Joel took the chance to interject.
“You don’t have any kids, Bravo,” he practically growled.
“I know. I’ve got cats, though,” Dieter just grinned back, flitting a cheeky look to you. “And you have no idea how naughty those pussycats can get while a man’s away.”
That was really all Joel could take. He didn’t even let you answer; he just pointed to the shed and made a fist with his other hand at his side. His chest was heaving breaths.
“You and her can chat when she’s off the clock, how ‘bout that? Leafblower’s in the shed. Door’s unlocked.”
His words didn’t invite protest of any kind. Dense as he was, Dieter probably sensed that he’d ticked his neighbor off with the suggestive comment to his babysitter, and he backed away, both literally and figuratively. He bid a quick, cavalier goodbye with a shit-eating grin stretching his lips, and then he went to the storage shed and left.
You were still blinking, still creasing your brows tight, by the time the back gate had slammed shut behind him. You watched after him, teeth gnawing at your cheek.
“He seemed like a funny gu—”
“What do you think you’re doin’?”
Joel’s words appeared to sting like a slap in the face. You jerked your head back to him, seeming to say, ‘What?’
“You know what. Don’t play innocent now,” Joel griped.
You continued to stare, then started to shake your head.
“Mr. Miller—”
“Don’t Mr. Miller me, either,” he snapped, far shorter than he’d ever spoken to you before. His nostrils flared, “You’re old enough to know better. You did all of that.”
“All of what?” you shot back.
“Attracted men like Dieter into my yard.”
“He’s your neighbor! What do you expect?”
Offense marred your tone. He didn’t entirely blame you.
“No, no—he never sticks his nose over here unless he sees something he wants. You were flaunting yourself.”
At that, your mouth fell open.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Miller? Are you serious?”
“Language, young lady—”
“I don’t give a shit.” You stood up from your chair. Your eyes flashed with ire. Just like his hands had before, yours curled into fists. You stood your ground with him. “You invited me to come swim here whenever I wanted to. You did that, asshole. What did you expect me to sunbathe in, army fatigues and fucking combat boots?”
Joel blinked hard at that. He didn’t like being mocked.
“Still shouldn’t be that damn skimpy. And I said lang—”
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, dad. Don’t act like you’re mine.”
Don’t act like you’re mine.
Joel’s chest tightened. His gaze seared into yours, almost as though he were as angry as you were now, but deep down, the man only felt remorse. Resentment. Whatever rage he harbored now was reserved for himself
He shouldn’t have gone there.
He shouldn’t have masked his own jealousy with pseudo paternal scolding. He looked like a dickhead doing that.
And you weren’t shy to let him know it in the slightest.
Presently, your finger was jabbed in his face. You were planted less than two feet from where he stood, and though you were noticeably dwarfed by his size, your next words had him beat by a foot, if he’d had to guess.
“I watch your kid, Joel. I am not your daughter. If you don’t want me hanging around here in my hot red bikini, then you can just say that. But don’t blame me for him.”
Joel bristled at your words, though he wasn’t sure why. When he opened his mouth to speak again, you added:
“And don’t blame me for that, either.”
Suddenly, he realized your finger was pointed at his legs.
Or, rather, what was poking up stiff between them.
Joel’s cheeks heated up to a thousand degrees.
You’d just caught him. You’d seen his arousal.
And you were turning on your heels again.
Before Joel could even try to summon the words to his tongue, you were grabbing your things. Shoving your shoes onto your feet. And Joel had only to stand there.
Feeling stupid and inert beside you.
As you went to the back gate, he somehow managed to call that you didn’t have a car, let him drive you back.
You didn’t even dignify his words with a verbal response.
You just raised your middle finger over your shoulder.
And then the gate crashed shut behind you.
You would be walking home that day.
Two big eyes and round cheeks were all you could see.
Then, they darted beneath the covers and were gone.
“Oh no, where’d sweet Sarah go?” you wondered aloud. Sitting at the edge of the bed and pretending not to see where she’d just dipped her head under the blankets, you furrowed your brows and proceeded to pat around you.
Everywhere you felt with your hands, you completely ignored the big lump under the duvet. It was a game.
A silly one at that—hide-and-go-seek was generally best left to places where you couldn’t figure out her location in the blink of an eye. But you played along. You heard a soft giggle. You continued feeling around the twin-sized mattress like this was the most bewildering puzzle of all.
“Whe-ere’s Sarah?” you sing-songed.
You heard a shuffling of limbs, a sniffle.
Your palm tapped right by those little feet.
And as soon as you did, she screamed. At four years old, Sarah hadn’t quite mastered the art of being stealthy.
You’d cut her some slack. You always had.
Blindly passing where her body lay, you glided to the opposite side of her bed and tapped inquiringly there.
“Is she…here?” You got a pillow.
“No!” Sarah shrieked back.
Such a helpful, obliging kid. She’d make a terrible spy.
“Is she…up here?” You rapped the headboard twice.
“No!!” she squealed.
You glanced over at the clock on her nightstand. It was approaching bedtime. Taking note of this, and knowing you couldn’t keep up with the charade for much longer, you let out a sigh. You stood from the bed, looked around the room with dramatic éclat, then started to walk away.
“Okay…I guess if Sarah’s not here I’ll have to leave…”
The second you said that, Sarah threw the covers back. She jumped up in bed, and she stomped her little feet.
“No! No! I’m here! I’m here!”
You spun on your heels, eyes wide with faux surprise.
“Sarah!”
And then you rushed back over, just in time to watch her drop to the bed and flash you a wide, exuberant smile.
“Your Sarah,” she corrected.
She adored it when you called her that. Your Sarah.
You nodded your head in agreement, “My Sarah. Sorry.”
She nodded too, like she’d just reminded you of the most important thing, and then she slipped back under her covers. She let you drag the purple duvet over her frame, all the way up to her chin, and when she was all snug inside, she gave another smile. She kicked her feet again.
“Stay,” she commanded, tone still sugar-sweet.
“I will, baby. ‘Til your daddy gets back, I’ll be here.”
“I mean forever!” Sarah dragged out the last syllable, and, not yet content with the answer you’d proffered, tried swaying you again, still more emphatic, “For-ever!”
If your daddy wasn’t such an ass, I might consider it.
Instead, you smiled back at her and shook your head. You smoothed the hair away from her face, then you leaned in and kissed her forehead with a gentle peck.
“Then my family would miss me. I gotta see them.”
“Says who?” Sarah’s pout was unmistakable.
Before you could reply, she cut in again.
“You can be my family. My mommy.”
Your throat constricted at those words. You weren’t sure what to say, or how to assuage your sweet Sarah then.
Again, you were about to open your mouth to speak, when your pint-sized companion piped up again. This time, her voice was softer. Surprisingly delicate and low.
“I want you to be my mommy,” she told you quietly, “Then you’ll live here. With me and daddy. And you’ll never have to go home again and we can play all day!”
Your heart ached. You kissed the tip of her nose and turned away, momentarily, to hide the hurt on your face.
Sarah Miller deserved much more in a mother than you.
When you looked up again, her grin was big. Hopeful.
“Don’t you wanna be my mommy too?” she asked.
“‘Course I do, baby,” you answered without hesitation, “But…don’t you think your daddy should have a say too?”
Somehow, her face got even brighter.
“He will! He— he…”
Sarah trailed off a second, as if considering her words. She didn’t understand what marriage meant. You’d help.
“Your daddy,” you finished for her, speaking slow and soft as you leaned in close, “is a good man who deserves a good woman to make your mommy. Don’t you agree?”
She bit the inside of her cheek.
“Yeah, but—”
“And a mommy’s gotta be someone he really loves.”
“But he…”
She was thinking again. You could tell. You pressed on.
“He is gonna find someone great someday. He’ll love you and her to bits, and y’all will get to play together all day.”
“But he loves you!” Sarah cried, at length.
A beat.
Your breath faltered.
The girl’s words had scarcely hung in the air for more than two seconds, and their meaning hardly registered in your brain before your own were coming out fast. Certain
“Your daddy doesn’t love me, baby. I’m just his friend.”
“Yes, he does! He told me so himself!”
Again, you shook your head.
“You misunderstood him, sweetie.”
You tried to smooth her hair back again, but Sarah’s head bucked away. She scrunched up her nose in clear protest and refused to let you cradle her face until she’d spoken her piece. When she did, her voice was pleading all over:
“Daddy loves you, he told me. You can be my mommy.”
And for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, you felt your heart balloon in your chest. Your gut clenched—but not for the reasons she or you wanted it to. The truth was that you didn’t have the words to tell a four-year-old girl that her father didn’t love you like that at all, that his head and his heart were anywhere but with you, and that, if you were being honest, you were furious with him. How he could so much as hint at such nonsense was beyond you. His little girl dreamed of having a mother. It was stupid and senseless and cruel to even suggest that that woman could be you. You sighed.
But, despite your every thought and feeling to the contrary, you knew you had to soothe the girl with some small semblance of hope. Something to hold her over for the night, so she didn’t cry herself to sleep thinking that you didn’t want to be her mommy. Gently, you leaned in.
You lifted the covers back up from where they’d fallen. You tucked them snug around her torso, and you paused.
Your tone was measured and soft when you spoke next:
“I don’t know about your daddy, baby. What I do know is that I would be the luckiest lady alive to get to be your mommy, alright? I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
And you meant it. You saw one look light up her face, and every ounce of anger that had been provoked by her father was forgotten in an instant. Her grin ensured it.
“Anywhere,” she parroted back.
“Anywhere,” you said, again.
Then you kissed the crown of her head, wished her sweet dreams, cut the little light off. You left the room quietly.
It was only when you were out of there and far enough away down the hallway that your skin started to burn.
You couldn’t help it. Anger was fast to trickle back.
This feeling was only compounded when the next moment brought a sound to the landing on the stairs. You glanced over down the hall, muscles all tensing at once, and when you saw him there, it was as though your rage just bubbled over. Your jaw clenched; your stomach flipped in a way so decidedly unlike how it had done for him two days ago, in his office, and suddenly, your throat was working again. You kept your voice low this time, keen not to draw Sarah’s attention out there, but the words you used were clear. Quiet. Doubtlessly effective.
Even in the dark, you saw his brows jump when he heard:
“Joel, we need to talk.”
It had been two years since he’d had a woman in here.
Joel wished it were under any circumstances but these.
Presently, your eyes were ablaze. The two of you had just stepped into his room and shut the door behind you, and with the click of a latch, you hadn’t thought to hold it in:
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
He blinked.
Well, many things.
Joel wouldn’t have had the space to explain it all if you’d given him a week, and still, he had to say something. He blinked again, made a sound in his throat as if to clear it, then shook his head. His shoulders sagged in his jacket.
“I…I’m sorry.”
For the other day. For getting caught up in his own anger and taking it out on you. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was apologizing for now, or what he should say, but he thought it best to start there. He shrugged his jacket off and set it over the back of the nearest chair. He turned to you again, where you were standing with a warning look.
“Don’t say sorry to me,” you said. “Say sorry to Sarah.”
Sarah?
Before he could speak, you went on.
“You’re just setting her up for heartbreak, you know that? I mean how selfish— how stupid could you possibly be?”
You pursed your lips like tears might threaten if you didn’t. This caught him off guard—his daughter? What could he have said or done to hurt her in any of this?
“What are you talking about?”
“You said I’d be her mom, Joel!”
He winced. You furrowed your brows and set your mouth in a line—really trying to fight the emotion behind it—and, while all the rest of you bristled in anticipation for what was to come, Joel softened. He didn’t mean to. He didn’t want to be the guy who lost his head at the thought of seeing you cry and forget the whole reason you were upset with him in the first place, but he couldn’t help it. Though you looked like you wanted to kill him right then, Joel drew closer. He shifted toward you.
“Did— did she, uh…call you…mommy?” he said, pained.
“Yeah. And you let her believe she could,” you spat.
He hadn’t meant to do that, either. Sarah had been calling you that for a while when you weren’t around to hear, and after enough times telling her otherwise, he’d just stopped correcting her on it. Sarah wanted a mother. You were the closest thing she had, and who was he to sabotage that? At the time, he’d just wanted to…pretend.
That was a running theme he had going with you.
Right now, you didn’t seem to care about that.
You just rolled your eyes in that cool, juvenile way when you didn’t hear a response from him, and he had to bite his tongue from saying something worse. He hated when you did that. It made him remember your age—the reality of you being his kid’s babysitter and how guilty he should feel for wanting to do something more about that eyeroll.
He wasn’t your father.
You weren’t Sarah’s mother, either.
You most certainly weren’t the girl on his computer screen, as much as he would’ve liked to see you that way, and even though you were standing here in his bedroom.
That was all fantasy. Make-believe. This was his reality.
You were visibly pissed and wouldn’t budge an inch.
“Is it really so bad if she says it?” he grit out.
Your eyes widened. You scoffed.
“Of course it is, Joel!”
You backed away.
He hated seeing that, too. He hated having you move from him, not toward him, wearing that scowl on your lips as you did. His fingers twitched—itched—at his side.
“Sarah’s young. She doesn’t…mean anything by it. She’ll grow out of it soon enough. And I don’t want to hurt her.”
“You’ll hurt her even worse by not telling her the truth!” you snapped. You sounded exasperated saying it now. “We’re not a family. I’m the goddamn babysitter, and— and— you’re Sarah’s father. Act like it, for Christ’s sake.”
That set his teeth on edge.
Joel felt the urge to fight back, but narrowly refrained. He flexed his fingers, and he bit down hard to keep the vitriol at bay. Because that was exactly what fathers did. They controlled their anger; even when faced with a smart-mouthed babysitter who wore his patience out.
Even when your arms were folded over your chest in that impossibly tight, white tank, and your tits looked like they might spill from the fabric at any given moment. Joel swallowed and refocused his gaze before going on.
“Don’t tell me how to be a father.”
Something flared in your eyes.
“Why? I’m fucking right.”
“Language, young lady.”
That only seemed to irk you worse; your hands flew up.
“Yeah, well,” you started, accusing, “If we’re playing house, I might as well be allowed to say what I like.”
“We are not playing hous—”
“But you want to, right? That’s why I’m always here.”
“No, I need a—”
“Maid? Mommy?”
You paced closer. Joel’s jaw clenched.
“Obedient little housewife?” you sneered.
Your eyes were shining like two derisive pools. With every blink, you seemed to mock him more. Goad him on and beg for your reward, though you hardly knew what it was.
“C’mon, Mr. Miller,” you chided, voice low, “What is it?”
What he was, or what he’d stand to take. It wasn’t this.
“Keep runnin’ that fuckin’ mouth, I’ll show you what.”
The words flew off his tongue before he could stop them.
It was a reflex—something that had been stewing in his mind since the second you’d set foot in his room and went on provoking him. But it was wrong, of course.
He was wrong for even thinking it, much less saying it.
Now your eyes were round, and your mouth was slightly agape, and your brain was likely working a thousand miles a minute to process what had just been said.
Joel had to fix it.
“That— that ain’t—” he began, already hating himself.
To his surprise, and embarrassment, a laugh rang out.
Its sound was explosive and short. It split the air with such hot, bitter force that his words dropped off. His gaze had no choice but to remain plastered on yours.
“Oh, I bet.”
You grinned, humorless.
You didn’t appear shocked in the slightest. In fact, his remark seemed only to embolden you then, as you teased that smile wider, drew yourself closer, and tipped your chin up. You looked doubly enlivened by his last admission. Vindicated in some strange, inexplicable way. Your breaths were warm, and the swell of your breasts came to hover just inches from his chest when the last thing he needed to happen, happened between you next.
You pointed again. Joel didn’t need to look down.
“‘Don’t tell me how to be a father,’” you repeated his words from before, voice taking on a low, faux baritone.
Your amusement was clear. His cock was hard.
It seemed you’d never let the latter slip past you.
“Is that what we’re gettin’ at here, Mr. Miller?” you asked, tone now precocious. Probing, “You showing me what a great daddy you are, and me being the mommy you al—”
“No.”
Joel pushed off. He didn’t want to hear another thing.
He headed straight for the door, prepared to usher you out of it. This conversation had taken an irreparable turn.
When he reached for the handle, though, he had to stop. Your voice made him stop, echoing from the opposite end of the room. Joel turned, and he saw you on his bed.
“I’m just curious. Is that really what you meant?”
You were sitting at the foot of it, legs casually hanging off. Your look was innocent, and still more knowing than Joel could bear. The heat left to swirl in his groin nearly suffocated him below the waist, and he inhaled deeply.
“Mean what? I didn’t…mean anything.”
His touch fell from the doorknob all the same.
Your feet were swinging when he faced you completely.
“Just like you didn’t mean for Sarah to call me mommy?”
Maybe he had meant it more than he let on. He couldn’t answer. Joel felt every bit the creep he knew himself to be—decades your senior and letting you rest on his bed, soft, smooth legs kicking back and forth as he watched.
He was good at that, wasn’t he? Watching. Waiting. Aching from the comfort of his home office while he watched those filthy clips on repeat, images of you flitting through his mind at every stretch, moan, and whimper. His will was powerless to his perverted needs. He had only to defend himself against their influence by planting his feet firmly in place and refusing to move.
“You wanna teach me, though. Don’t you, daddy?”
It was as though your words reached him from another place. Somewhere deep within the recesses of his mind—his memory—and the tone of it stirred him. It was familiar, in ways you couldn’t have possibly understood. Unless you were living in his head, there was no way in hell you could’ve known what those lines meant to him.
‘Gonna teach ya, honey. Teach ya how to please a man.’
It made him ache.
Joel still wouldn’t move, but you could come to him.
He blinked once, and you were there. Off the bed. Walking to him. Down on your knees in front of him.
This had to be the work of his own sick imagination.
He groaned at just the sight of your smile, curving slow.
And then you peeled off your top, revealing the bright, nylon, cherry-red fabric he’d seen far too many times on his computer screen and off it—on you, by his pool. Joel sucked in a breath and shook his head, gaze darkening.
“Thought you didn’t wanna play mommy,” he growled.
If this was all just in his head, he could talk as he wanted.
“I don’t,” you answered him soberly. Suddenly, your chin was in his hand. Your eyes were still glistening up at him. “But you need to get this out of your system. Just once.”
Out of his system.
Joel was out of his fucking mind with desire.
“Just once?” His voice cracked as he said it.
Only one time. That was alright. Forgivable.
From what he half-believed to be a figment of his own perverted mind came the word from your lips: ‘Once.’
The next had the thumb that was cupping your chin slipping between those same lips. Still smiling while your mouth slid down to his knuckle. You sucked him gently.
And in just one glimpse, one fleeting second on that lone, thick thumb, the sight below him had every other obscene thing entrenched in his memory beat by a mile. You were better than everything else he’d seen or tried to dream up. You were real, he hoped, sliding your shiny wet lips up and down the surface of his skin, and when you pried them off, and you asked for his cock, he had no choice but to oblige. He had to rack his brain for words.
This was his babysitter, his daughter’s companion, his—
“Sweet fuckin’ girl,” he said when he first felt you there.
Before he even knew what became of his belt, buckle, and zip, the base of his cock was in your hand, and your lips were hovering precariously over the tip. Your breaths were soft and hot. Your graze drank him in with curiosity.
“Should I kiss you here, daddy?” Your mouth lowered.
“Right there, sweetie,” Joel breathed out.
He truly couldn’t believe it when the warmth of you enveloped his tip. When the first lick of your tongue came to collect the bead of precum sitting at the slit and he damn near bucked his hips up. You licked at it again.
And again. And again. And again.
You whimpered lightly, enjoying the taste.
The second you pulled your mouth away, Joel hissed.
“Baby, please—” he started, tone strained.
“What? Where does daddy want it?”
The question was so innocent.
It was clear you wanted to hear him guide you through it, as evidenced by the way your lips twitched at his hand smoothing down and over the crown of your head. Joel held it like he might never get this chance again, and, at once, his voice lowered along with it. He scarcely recognized himself with how gently he spoke then.
“Let daddy show you,” he said, “Open your mouth.”
And you did.
Your jaw fell slack, your lips split apart, and your eyes peered up with a wide and open stare. In a look, you seemed already to say that you trusted him to fill it.
No sight on a screen could’ve made him so hard.
He fed you an inch, eyes locked with yours as he did. His cock slid in another, and another, then stopped. He pulled back. The wetness and the warmth of your mouth nearly did him in, and the way you whined for more had him fisting your hair tight. Trying to keep his composure.
“That alright, honey? Feel…nice goin’ in?”
“Yes, daddy,” you hummed obediently.
Your mouth opened wider.
“More, please?”
Your tongue was flattened in a second. Joel slid back in, and his shaft was greeted by the slick, shiny cushion of the muscle underneath. He sank in. He invaded every inch of your mouth he could find, and he breathed out.
“Just like that, sweetie. Takin’ daddy so well.”
What little gurgles he heard stifled between your lips at that, spit drooling gently from either side, he only found more endearing. When he pulled back and saw strings of your spit trail after its path, he felt delirious. You were real, coating the whole throbbing length of his cock with your saliva and your precious soft whines, and you were sweet for him. Pliant for his cock. Jaw obliging and inviting and hanging wide open for him to fuck again.
He let you have it. He slid in once, grazed your throat, slid out again. He cupped your face in his hands and thumbed your cheeks. He coaxed your lips wider for him. You took it all well; you responded to every tender little directive from the man who was stuffing your mouth, ‘Faster now, atta girl’ and ‘Take daddy deeper’ and ‘Keep that pretty mouth open and those eyes on me.’ Joel was so caught up in the feel and the friction and the intimacy of every passing moment that he almost didn’t see when you started to shift your legs. Parting them.
And, right when the head of his cock had reached the back of your mouth and was teasing down your wet, open throat, he felt it fully: your whimpering plea.
You grinding your cunt against the toe of his boot, and peering up at him with eyes all wet, wide, and needy.
You rutted your hips. It looked like you couldn’t help it.
It seemed as though it were a mere spasm of the body that you couldn’t control—like his cock down your throat was too good for your sense or your oversexed mind to handle. He’d scarcely stirred in place when he felt you humping him, whines rippling down his length with every bob of your head as you keened for some kind of release.
Joel had never seen anything like it. He didn’t know what to say or do except stroke his hand over your scalp and pin you with a look. His cock twitched in your mouth.
“Is that how we ask to get fucked in this house?”
His tone surprised him with how steady it stayed.
Your mouth still full of him, you tried to shake your head.
What came next was more instinct than logical thought; Joel pulled you off his cock and onto your feet. His touch on your body was soft. He couldn’t pinpoint a reason for his being so gentle, but every second that elapsed now seemed to demand it. He was teaching you to please. There could be no better place for kindness than here.
He’d lead you to the bed and guide you down himself. He’d tell you to open your mouth and then he would kiss it, and lick inside it. Maybe spit inside it, too. He’d tug at your bikini straps, watch your breasts give way to the pressure of the pull before bouncing right back in place. He’d take off your top. Latch his mouth around a nipple, swirl his tongue across the skin, and he’d kiss you again.
Joel did all these things, and you let him. You met him with whimpers, with wide open legs, and eventually, with your feet digging into the covers beneath you, begging, ‘Daddy, please put it in.’ Your gaze was febrile as you did.
Whether you meant it, or were simply pretending for him, gave Joel pause. Just as you’d tried to yank your jean shorts down your legs, he dropped his hands to your own. He stopped them in their path. He leaned closer.
“Do you know what you and me are about to do, hm?”
His question was barbed but sweet. Testing the waters.
Were you game to keep playing house? Did you want it?
These things mattered to Joel; whether the wetness between your legs was meant for him and him alone. Whether you needed him there, like the breath in your lungs. He wouldn’t fuck you if he wasn’t. He might feel lonely at times—desperate to feel your cunt squeeze his too-old cock like your life depended on it—but he was a man who wanted to be wanted, too. An instant of clarity hit, and suddenly he was asking it, plain and in your face:
“Do you wanna do what mommies and daddies do?”
Your mouth fell slack. Again. You nodded.
Either you were the single best actress, or you wanted it. Hoping desperately for the latter, Joel kissed the side of your face. You turned your head, quickly, and captured his lips in yours instead. You pulled him down to you.
“Like this?” you murmured, words muffled against him.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and then ground your clothed lower half with his—Joel’s cock was tucked haphazardly back in his boxers, and his jeans, unzipped, hung just underneath them around his hips. He felt like a teen again, clothes thrown askew and hormones all wild.
Except he wasn’t. He was a grown man, in his own bed, with his child fast asleep down the hall. He thanked his lucky stars that their rooms were as far apart as possible, and that he no longer had to worry about the prying eyes of his mom or dad trying to catch him out after curfew. This wasn’t high school, or a night out in college, or the time a condom had split and Sarah had been conceived.
Now if he could just make sure she didn’t get a sibling…
Kidding.
“Pill,” Joel choked out, just as your legs drew him in to meet your movements, “Are— are you on the pill, or—”
Am I going to have to hit up a Texaco at 10 PM to get some rubbers and admit I haven’t gotten laid in a year?
You grinned.
“IUD.”
That works, too.
Joel probably shouldn’t have seemed so eager. He probably shouldn’t have taken your face in his hands and kissed you so hard, either. But his skin was ablaze; his eyes were wild; his limbs were molten; and his head—you didn’t want to know where it was. What he was thinking.
What he wanted to tell you while he tugged his cock back out and started working his hand up and down it. It felt too intimate, too depraved, to be spoken aloud.
Then, to his shock, you said the words yourself:
“Show me how you’d make me a mommy anyway.”
If not for protection. If not for common sense. If not for that thrumming, pulsing, warning repetition in his head: Do not get her pregnant. Do not give your kid a sibling.
But this was all pretend, wasn’t it?
Joel yanked down your shorts, practically tore them from your legs, and situated himself between them, breathing hard and fast, before he nodded his head and kissed you. With his one free hand, he held the base of his dick, and he guided it closer to your slick, puffy, aching entrance through the barrier of your red bikini. He rutted his hips.
You were bare beneath him, save for that one scrap of fabric between your lower half and his. You smiled, and you wriggled your body against his, and you drew him in. Joel groaned when he felt you slide your bottoms to the slide and let him feel, for the first time, how wet you were. How warm, inviting, and tight that cunt must be and how badly he needed it. How desperately he had to be buried inside that heat—he all but panted the words:
“Can daddy put it in?”
You spread your legs wider. You nodded.
Then he did. Without one breath of a thought to the contrary, he pushed the head of himself past the fabric, through your folds, into that wet and precious spot he’d only dreamed he’d ever feel, and he let out a full-throated moan. He felt your walls contract, heard the tender little squelch of your body making room for his length, and he damn near blew his whole load right there. You felt good.
Your chest rose with a breath, and your eyes widened.
Like you hadn’t just had him down your throat, drenched in your spit and gliding in and out: “He’s so big, daddy.”
Joel’s lips kissed your cheek. His tip kissed your cervix. You whined a little, and he pulled you in closer to him.
“I know, honey, I know,” he cooed, rocking you with the softest motions, “Ain’t that what mommy likes, though?”
Your lips parted again. A strangled whine of assent slid out, just as his hips withdrew himself back to that shiny, bulbous head, and then he fucked back in. Back and forth, back and forth, Joel sent your body bouncing with every thrust. He felt you clench, and the strokes sped up.
The bed creaked underneath. It seemed to shake the whole room. In truth, there wasn’t a thought in Joel’s head except for the ones relating to you and how good you took his cock, but somewhere, not far off, there was the instinct of a father idling too. With every stab of the headboard against the wall and every moan of yours under him he had to smother with his lips, he was reminded you two had to be quiet. He leaned in.
Grazing your ear with a stubbled chin, and fucking you gently into his bed, Joel sank his weight even lower.
“Can mommy stay real quiet for daddy? Can she try?”
From the way your eyes were glazed, he expected you to nod. And you did, just barely, heels digging in the mound of his ass and your fingers finding his sides. But then you slid a touch up his ribs; you squeezed the flesh. You let him pound your cunt for a few more precious seconds, and just when he thought that was the end of it, you tilted your head to him. Your nose bumped his, and you grinned, flashing the single most pretty, fucked-out look.
“Feels like a fucking dream, daddy,” you breathed.
Joel balked. He almost stopped right then and there.
Please! Feels like a fucking dre-e-e-e-e-eam—oh, OH!
Oh.
You couldn’t have known that.
There was no shot you knew where the fuck those words were from. Or what they meant. Joel furrowed his brow and kept rutting his hips, hands tightening in the sheets beside your head as the scene from his naughty all-time favorite film flickered briefly through his mind. No shot.
Then your legs wound around the backs of his even tighter, and your eyes were all but shining with a fresh, twisted glint. With a measured tone, you went on for him:
“He’s so big, daddy. Feels so good going inside me.”
You even mimicked her tone. Joel paled above you.
His hips stalled a moment, and your cunt hugged him tight. Your teeth nipped at his chin, playfully, and before he could even try to speak again, your lips were there.
At his ear, whispering what he’d dreaded hearing most.
“You should really clear those PornHub searches after you’re done. Or at least lock your office while I’m here.”
Joel’s thrusts stopped completely.
He was about to search for his voice again, when your walls clamped down around him, and his vision went swimming. His cock pulsed inside you, and he groaned.
Then his hips picked up; it wasn’t a conscious decision. He just needed to fuck, needed to finish, needed to see the light twinkle and burst behind your eyes while he stuffed your cunt full. It didn’t matter what you knew—your lips were curled in such a sweet, smug smile below him, there was likely no use in trying to explain himself now. Joel just gritted his teeth, and he tried smiling back. He fucked you faster, and harder, than he’d done before.
When you clawed at his back, the pace grew merciless. Every inch of the space around him, it seemed, was filled with the sounds of skin slapping skin, whimpers, and moans. As before, Joel almost didn’t recognize his voice.
‘That so?’ was all it could manage to get out at present.
With your cunt fluttering repeatedly, hips rolling with his own, and those lips letting moans spill out one after the next, it was all he could do to try to keep his composure.
Joel kissed you, and then he flipped your body around. He moved back to find the headboard and rest himself against it, got your legs straddling his, and slid you down
Down, down, down on his cock. Stretching you out. Then moving you back up again. Making you bounce in his lap and have your hands fumble to find his shoulders. You squeezed his biceps and moaned, and at the same time, his slick-smeared lower half rutted to greet yours. Your essence drenched him; he could feel it soak straight through the black-and-gray hairs at the base of his cock.
You looked perfect like this—better than any girl on camera could’ve been. Your hips rolled, and you moaned while sliding up and down on his dick, again and again. Joel felt the trembling pulse through your body and his, groaned at the grip of your cunt around him, and helped you ride him. With one hand at the small of your back and the other cupping your face, he held you close to him. Your pace quickened, and the hand at your chin made its way to your throat, to hold you firmly there.
Joel had a thumb on your pulse and his eyes raking over your writhing form when he felt compelled to talk again.
Share a truth, since all the rest was coming out anyway.
He didn’t think so much as feel it flow from there, like the blood rushing through his veins. Joel winced at a fresh influx of pleasure and let you grind on him twice more. Then he was gripping you tighter, fucking up into you harder, and he was skimming his teeth along your skin. As a knot coiled deep within his stomach, he let it out:
“Wanna cum inside this pussy, baby. Fill her up with me.”
The head of his cock struck a dizzying blow to someplace close to your cervix, and you held him tighter.
“Yeah, Mr. Miller?” You couldn’t help the teasing tone.
You fought a breathless laugh, then were forced to suck in a gasp of air just as quick; his length sheathed itself inside you completely, and Joel’s grip constricted on your throat. He kissed you. He lapped his tongue into your mouth while he fucked up into you, again and again.
You whined, and he mumbled against you, “That’s right.”
You hissed at him deep in your guts, and he went on:
“Gonna stuff her full. Make her wet and messy and drippin’ with me. Show mommy how much daddy lov—”
He cut himself short. His balls were heavy, full, and ready to paint you white, but that line was a touch too far, even now. He couldn’t say it outright and not sound like a fucking creep, no matter how deep in this roleplay you happened to be. Joel squeezed your hips and grunted.
And, for what felt like the fifteenth time that night, you surprised him. Your chin tilted to his, your lips brushed against his mouth, and you smiled, again. It was tender.
“How much does daddy love me, hm? Show me.”
Your walls clenched at the end of the last sentence, and Joel couldn’t help but groan in your mouth. His eyes lifted to yours, and in your gaze, he found anything but incredulity—you already knew what he felt, somehow.
“Sarah tell you that, too? That I love you?” he growled.
He’d said it once. At the time, he hadn’t thought he’d meant it at all, but the words just sounded so good when it came to you. Sarah had asked him if he’d wanted you to be her mommy someday, if he loved you like a daddy loves a mommy, and he’d said he did. Looking back, it hadn’t felt half as good as it did right now: peering into your eyes, feeling your warmth swallow him whole, and sensing you were nearing your climax, all because of him. It made him want to say it over again, now face-to-face.
Be it roleplay, fantasy, fixation—he needed to say it now.
“Daddy does love you,” he went on, before you could even respond. His pelvis rutted against yours, and his gaze stayed steeped in desire as he felt you grip harder, “Loves you so damn much he wants to stuff a big load in that pretty little cunt. Make you his. That alright by you?”
Your gaze went blank in an instant. Your lips twitched.
Something delectably wet, tight, and far too tempting shuddered someplace inside you, and with pride, Joel sensed the remnants of it leak out and smear his tummy. You liked that idea. Still, you seemed hesitant as your teeth snagged your bottom lip between them. You drew one steadying breath, and you slowed your movements.
“I’ve never…had that,” you admitted quietly.
Then that sticky-sweet embrace your cunt held him in got even wetter. Like your mind wasn’t fully on-board, but your body was all in. You were close, by the feel of it.
But Joel would only give what you were fully ready to take. At length, he lowered one hand to the small of your back, and his thumb rubbed at the skin. He let you feel him in only the shallowest of strokes, bouncing you softly
“Ain’t gotta be inside, then,” he murmured, assuring, “I’ll shoot this load wherever mommy tells me to go, alright?”
That made you whimper.
From there, your mind seemed to be decided all at once.
“Cum inside. I-I want it.”
Joel swallowed thickly.
“You sure, sugar? I can—”
Suddenly, your hips were stirring. They started up quicker than before, and your hand was swift to plant itself flat on his chest, as though to stabilize yourself.
“Cum. In. Me.”
It was the most decisive, and desperate, you’d sounded all night. Your gaze flitted to his, and in it, he saw a plea.
With a look like that, Joel knew he couldn’t make you wait. He wouldn’t make you wait. Trying not to smirk as he did, he leaned in and kissed you, and felt you drip more arousal as something knotted in your belly. He smoothed your hair away and delivered the gentlest thrusts from below—he knew it wouldn’t take much.
“Mama goes first,” he prodded. He felt you tense, and clench, and leak a little more down his front, and when the head of cock nicked a soft ridge, he groaned, too. “Cum for daddy now and he’ll give you his load, OK?”
Then his touch slipped between your legs. You keened.
“Daddy, I—” you hiccuped, grip tightening like a vice when his thumb found your clit and started rubbing.
Joel circled faster.
“Breathe, baby. Breathe.”
“I can’t,” you cried, “Feels too—”
Good. Your body seemed to finish for you.
It started with a pulse. Then a pinch. A trickling warmth. Joel hardly knew what else to do but keep rubbing that little pearl between your folds, even when you started to gush around his hand. It wet his tummy; it drenched all the hairs around the base of his cock, and still, he kept thumbing your clit and rocking you back and forth above him. He let you cry out and bite his shoulder while your climax tore through you, and though he knew you had to be quiet, he couldn’t help but relish the sound. He smiled
“That’s it. That’s my girl. Give it to daddy.”
And, while he also told you to keep breathing and let him have it all, he was right here—in a matter of seconds, he was slipping off, too. He couldn’t hope to try and stop it. With one more pulse of your walls, you groaned and got your wet, spent, needy hole stuffed full of him, just how you’d asked. Joel flooded your insides with his seed and kept you fucked straight down to the hilt so he wouldn’t see a drop of himself escape. He hugged you tight and heard you whine at that primal sensation, getting pumped with rope after rope of his cum, then he felt your limbs go limp. Joel kissed the side of your face. He cradled you, held you securely in place, and let the last of his spend paint your walls in a couple more gentle spurts
When it was over, he stroked your back. He sensed the aftershocks of your climax pass through your tired frame, and he made sure not to rock you too hard against him. He just wanted you to feel that he was there, if the heft of his cum and his cock still deep inside you wasn’t enough.
His head grew clearer, too. While still drawing short, ragged breaths in time, he managed to find the words that had evaded him before—what he should’ve said.
“‘M’sorry,” he mumbled into your hair.
You just nuzzled your face deeper.
“Don’t be.”
“But I—”
Then you tilted your head—enough for your gaze to meet with his, briefly, and tell him all that he needed to hear.
“You’re a good dad, Joel.”
He opened his mouth, but you were already pressing on.
“And I don’t…mind if Sarah calls me what she wants for now. I’m sure you’ll find someone great to be her mom someday, and then this whole thing won’t even matter.”
For some reason, the sound of it made Joel wince.
He couldn’t quite place the feeling, but he knew he didn’t want you thinking that. His grip constricted around you.
“No,” he muttered, indistinct. Defiant.
“No?”
You almost laughed.
It was insane, admittedly—just last night he’d been dreaming of the feel of you in the grip of his fist, wishing for nothing but his own release and a fleeting thought of your body underneath him, and here he was, doing this.
You’d said it was a one-and-done deal, and maybe it was.
But for him, maybe, it wasn’t. He’d be remiss not to try.
If you shot him down and left him to pine and meander through the manifold archives of PornHub for the rest of his horny life, that would be alright. At least he had tried.
With these thoughts thrumming through his brain, Joel was about to pull you closer and venture to speak again, when, for the second time, his words were cut short. His voice was presently supplanted by a sound that startled you both, and in a moment, he recognized what it was.
A knock.
“Da-a-a-a-a-a-addy?”
Shit.
He nearly caught a knee to the gut with how quickly you tried scrambling off his lap, limbs revived and frantic and desperate to get your clothes back on before that tiny voice could resume its speech—or get a hand to the door
“Yeah, sweetie? Give— give daddy a—” ‘Fuck!’ he cursed under his breath as he tripped over your shorts on the floor, “—a minute. I’ll be right there. Just gimme a sec.”
Joel fell. You floundered. His hand snagged the edge of the bed before he hit the ground fully, while you set off across the room to fight the strings of your bikini top and wrestle the thing on. The second you sensed that battle was lost, you grabbed your shirt instead. You were just yanking it on, and Joel was just regaining his bearings and about to chuck your shorts your way, when a voice through the door stopped the two of you cold—again.
To your horror, it was hopeful. Too sweet to be real.
“Can I sleep with you and mommy tonight?”
You could’ve soundly beat Joel’s ass with that pretty, skimpy swimsuit in your grasp and not regretted a thing, if he had to guess by the look you were flashing him now.
He didn’t blame you. His hands shot up in silent defense.
“Mommy— mommy’s not here, honey. She went home.” Joel shortly tried, and failed, to keep the pretense of innocence alive, all while dodging the first swing of your bikini’s bra at his head. He ducked; you struck a lamp.
He jumped back, a wordless grin stretching his lips as he righted that fixture fast. With one look, it seemed to say:
I’m so, so sorry, baby.
But inside his head, he couldn’t help but admit this was a little bit funny. Probably sensing this, you swung again.
“Yes, she is! I heard her,” Sarah huffed outside.
Joel was sliding up his jeans. Apologizing with his eyes and also trying not to crack an even bigger smile at you.
“Don’t be silly, Sar—”
“You’re having a sleepover!” she accused.
Well, in a manner of speaking.
Joel had just buckled his belt and redid his zip when a flash of red nylon smacked him in the face. Playfully.
You were evidently beginning to fight a grin like his, dropping the feigned indignation and pacing closer.
“Sleeping my ass—” you started in a whisper.
And you were about to chase him again, or else propose jumping from the window to get out now and save face, maybe, when Joel felt an old, familiar feeling crop up inside him. Like before, it wasn’t the kind of urge he could fight; his instincts took over, and he did it swiftly.
Admittedly, the timing was terrible—but he kissed you.
He pressed his lips to your own and relished the feeling. He grabbed both sides of your face and walked you back to the bed—the same one drenched in sweat and your release, which he’d definitely need to change in a minute—and for a fleeting moment, it was all he needed. Your mouth was on his, grinning a little and promising silently that if Sarah ever does walk in on us, I’m gonna kill you.
Against his better judgment, he pushed you back on the bed. He dropped his weight over your body and kept the kiss ongoing, feeling need surge inside for something far beyond the physical. It couldn’t be ‘one-and-done’ here.
But for now, at least, in spite of his feelings, it had to be.
Joel didn’t want to let go or stop kissing, but the next second left no room for much else, unfortunately. His daughter’s voice returned, and the words that followed proved impossible to ignore, for either one of you then.
All color drained from his face, and your eyes widened.
synopsis: After an unexpected breakup leaves her scrambling for somewhere to live, she answers a roommate ad thinking it’s posted by three women. Instead, she finds herself moving in with three men who are loud, chaotic, and somehow manage to make her feel at home. Amidst the chaos only three men could ever bring, she slowly realizes that starting over isn’t as terrifying as she thought. Falling for one of them, however, definitely was NOT part of the plan.
pairing: alfie buttle x reader
content warnings: mentions of infidelity, alcohol consumption, swearing
chapters°❀
chapter one - Apartment 3F
chapter two - Cathartic
chapter three (coming soon…)
…
a/n: i’m so excited to start this series!!!! i’ve loved new girl for a really long time and nick reminds me of alfie a lot, so it felt only fitting to create this au. i know new girl isn’t as popular as some other tv shows, and i don’t know what the crossover between ukyt and new girl might be, BUT it will still be very readable even if you haven’t watched it
Alfie pounds into you, his pace rough and sloppy. His hand presses down onto your stomach as he hammers his cock into your wet cunt.
You let out a whimper, different to the others. He feels your legs squeeze around him tighter as you shift uncomfortably.
He slows down completely, his hips coming to a slow rock.
“What’s the matter, love…?” He rubs your stomach gently, only causing you to whine again. “Oh… you need a wee?” He tilts his head, other hand reaching up to brush some hair out of your face.
“Yeah…” you pout, shifting your hips, causing Alfie to grunt at the sensation.
“Well, you’re gonna have to hold it.” He shrugs, slowly picking his pace back up, hand pressing harder and harder just under your belly button.
Your a mess, whines and moans coming out of your mouth over and over again with each thrust of Alfie’s huge cock, hitting the perfect spot to make you cry out in pleasure but just harsh enough to make you whimper in desperation.
“That’s a clever girl…” Alfie praises you, dipping a head down to nuzzle your neck and press kisses down it. “Holding it so well for me, hm?”
You nod frantically, hand coming up to tangle in his curls as his tongue and lips move against your neck.
You’re met with that familiar tightness in your abdomen as Alfie continues to work his cock as deep as he can.
“M’gonna cum, baby.” He grunts, his hips stuttering as he fills you with his warm seed.
Your orgasm crashes over you intensely, an involuntary groan escapes your lips as you try to keep your piss in.
Alfie chuckles as your piss spurts out of you along with your climax.
“Messy bunny…” he lifts your leg and kisses a line down your inner thigh.
𝑶𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑻𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑭𝑻𝑯 𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑶𝑭 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑴𝑨𝑺 𝑩𝑬𝑴𝒀𝑳𝑼𝑽𝑹 𝑮𝑨𝑽𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑴𝑬... twelve smutty fics posted throughout the month of december! these works are STRICTLY 18+ AND ALL CONTAIN NSFW CONTENT, please read the content warnings included on each post, and a partridge in a pear treeeeee
ahhh i’m so excited to post this!! i really wanted to do another event similar to kinktober and have been working so hard on this for a while now! will update this list as i post throughout the month and i hope you enjoy!
𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑶𝑵𝑬 // a christmas heatwave - sleazy!joel
𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑻𝑾𝑶 // home for christmas - army!tommy miller
𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬 // winter boots (boot riding) - joel miller
𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹 // somnophilia - joel miller
𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑭𝑰𝑽𝑬 // sweat kink - joel miller
𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑺𝑰𝑿 // infidelity - tommy miller
𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑺𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑵 // stuck in the fireplace - joel miller
𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑬𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 // blue christmas (angst & comfort) - joel miller
𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑬 // under the mistletoe (cunnilingus) - tommy miller
SUMMARY: You run into the Miller Brothers in public, and after joel feels you up at a beachside bar, they consensually kidnap you.
CONTENT: 18+ exhibitionism, drugs, cockwarming, PIV, dirty talk, degradation, breeding kink, MFM, double penetration (double vaginal, and two-hole), possessive/brotherly bickering while inside you, cum inflation, magical lactation.
You were walking along the ocean in front of a beachside bar when someone catcalled. "Hey sweetheart,” Tommy lifted his chin with a smile. His hair was pulled back.
Joel turned around toward the beach and lowered his sunglasses. “Speak of the devil… Get the fuck over here.”
When you approached, Tommy checked you out “Look at you, lookin’ all snatched.”
“Lookin' empty,” Joel corrected him with a chuckle. “Nah, you always look perfect, baby. C'mere.” He tapped his thigh for you to sit in his lap.
“We're just takin' a load of here for a minute…. Gonna go home and grill up our catch,” Joel said. "And you're comin’ with us.”
“Oh, I drove, I have my car here,” you said.
“We'll bring ya back to get your car.”
"Okay," You agreed, hormones surging.
“Good girl.” Joel's big hands wandered as soon as you were on his lap, caressing your thigh, then squeezing it... feeling your breasts as they talked.
They had gone fishing, and they regaled you with tales of everything they caught, most of which they released, some of which was on ice in the back of their truck.
Joel slid his hand under your bathing suit top, shamelessly feeling you up the bar. He fed you a sweet potato fry, then wiped his hand on your thigh before stuffing his hand down your bottoms. “Mmm, there she is. C'mere.” He used his hand cupping your cunt to pull you against his hardening package.
Tommy went to close out their tab, and you were drenching your swimsuit bottoms with Joel's big hand cupping your heat and tickling your dripping hole. The waiter tried not to look. Joel's touch and praise had you woozy with hormones as memories came rushing back to your body.
“You're okay, c'mere,” Joel said and pulled you back again. Your head leaned against his, and he sucked at your neck. “Don't worry, Tommy's gonna drive. I gotta spend some quality time in my girl.”
Walking to their truck with Joel’s arm around you felt like having a royal escort. He told you how much he missed you and squeezed the thick silhouette of his cock. “Fuck, if i dont get in that soon, I’m gonna lose it.” His pace quickened until he was opening the passenger door for himself.
And before he sat, he tugged his swim trunks down to pull out his cock.
He spat on his tip and pumped it a couple of times, then held it with his left hand for you and extended his right hand for balance to help you step into the truck.
“How do you want me?” You asked, and he let out a low whistle.
“Lady's choice, as long as I'm balls deep in that pussy.”
You faced the windshield.
“Chair position, I like it,” Joel said and gave your ass a little smack. He pulled down your swim trunks, and you braced your hands on the glovebox. While you were bent over, he fingered you from the back and teased your hole, making a wet sound as he smacked his finger against your entrance.
“Oh yeah, she knows daddy's here,” he said. “Daddy's comin’, sugar.” He used both thumbs to spread your cheeks and your lips.
“Gimme a minute,” he said, and positioned you so he could bury his face in your ass. He tongued and lapped at your cunt, slid his tongue up, and teased your other hole.
When Tommy put the truck in reverse, Joel took his face out of your ass. “All right, sweetheart,” he held his cock and put an arm around you, with his free hand on your mound. He rubbed tip of his fat cock through the slick of your cunt and his saliva, then pushed it into you. He held your hips as you sank onto it with a moan.
“Yeah, there she is,” Joel greeted your cunt. “Hell yeah…..She miss me?”
“Yeah,” you replied with a soft chuckle, insides softly rearranging themselves around his girth.
“Well, shit. You got my number. You shoulda said somethin’,” Joel said.
Tommy chuckled. “That ain't her job, brother. You better take care of her without her havin’ to ask. Ain't that right, sweetheart?”
“Mind your own business,” Joel said.
Tommy retorted, “Hey, that asshole is my business. I want to be allllll up in that business tonight.”
“Yeah, we'll see about that,” Joel said, “keep runnin’ your mouth.”
Joel held his arm around you like a seatbelt, fondling your breasts, kissing the nape of your neck.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he said. “Now that we know what that pussy can do, I think about it all the damn time.”
Stuffed with Joel's cock on his lap: it was everything you'd been wanting. Everything you needed. So many times you'd thought about them… about how nasty and degrading they were…. about them stuffing you full….about fucking Joel in the parking lot…. and on the beach…. and both their cocks crammed in your poor little hole….. you thought about the way you blew up last time. For days, you probably could have passed as pregnant. And each time a little bit of their cum seeped out, part of you was a little sad.
After a few days, you had gotten in the habit of having your hand on your belly so often that you found your hand going there and felt surprised to find nothing.
God, you want him to cum and fill you up again, stretch your limits....
For the time being, you were content to sit on his cock in the car. He loosened your bathing suit top so that it was floating futilely above his hands as he played with your tits.
“Fuck, you're so damn hot, baby….. hottest chick on the beach, swear to god….”
“Sure is,” Tommy added.
“You take a pregnancy test?” Joel asked.
“No, but i got my period,” you told him.
His hips rocked, slow and gentle. “Ain't gonna blow my load,” he said. “Wanna see how big it can be if I wait…..Tryin’ to figure out if ya get more from a few loads or one big one.”
“Oh, we got work to do….” Joel said. “One of these days, it'll take…. one of these days, and then i'll bring you home with us. And you don't gotta worry about nothin’ but carryin’ my baby. God damn, I want that bad.” He slid his hand down into your swimsuit bottoms and fondled your clit.
Tommy piped in, “He hadn't come in a few days. He was moanin’ and groanin’ about the mornin’ wood…. Wouldn't touch it, though. Said he was savin’ it for you.”
Your heart swelled.
“That's why I ain't fuckin’ ya right now,” Joel said. “Just need ya to sit pretty on me as long as we can….. But I figure it ain't cheatin’if I make *you* come, right? I think that's allowed, ain't it?”
“Course it is,” Tommy said. “Just try not to blow your load when she does.”
Joel was playing with your clit, and nuzzling your neck, and with his cock secure in your cunt; you began to succumb to the tension swelling in your gut.
“Yeah,” Joel agreed. “Just gimme a little squeeze, darlin’, when ya come. Just let that pussy hug me, gimme little massage…. That's all I need. Let her hug him tight before we stretch her out again.”
“God, it's hard, Joel,” you marveled at his cock.
“Oh, baby I know…. Just wanna fill you the fuck up, much as you can take,” he says, “fuck, I want you so bad, baby….. want everyone to see what we do together…. want everyone to see you swole up with my cum, swole up with my baby.”
Tommy took this literally and rolled down the window, making your face tingle at the exposure.
You were pretty sure this wasn't legal, but you didn't say anything. What was the worst that could happen?
“We're good,” Tommy said. “I was in the Rangers with the police chief. Saved his life.”
“Nice work,” you replied, bringing a glint of pride to his eyes.
“How's it feelin’, sugar?” Tommy asked.
“Uggg, so good,” you answered. “This cock is so big and hard. Packs me just right.”
“Yeah, that's right,” Joel said, breathing a little heavier, rubbing your clit. “That's what ya need, baby. Packed tight, full of cock, full of cum… That's how it should be.”
At a red light, they rolled to a stop, and a truck next to you inched forward. A man was staring. He was old enough to be the Miller brothers’ father. A thought that made your tits feel like they were floating with pleasure.
Joel removed his right hand from between your legs and used your slippery arousal to massage your nipple right in clear view of the passenger window. You moaned with your head back and Joel said, “Fuck yeah,” meanwhile sliding his left hand between your legs - he knew how bad you needed it. Never wanted to leave you unattended.
The man in the next truck, the man you imagined as Grandpa Miller, undid his belt and his hand began to move on his lap. He kept rhythm with the way you moved with Joel's touch….
Your spine arched as Joel touched you, and his lips grazed your ear, and his hips just barely moved under you. “Oh, fuck,” Joel moaned, rubbing your clit and circling your nipple. You're gonna come for me, baby. “Gonna give this big cock a little hug. Come on.”
“Yeah,” you agreed.
“Come on, sugar… come for daddy… you know you wanna…”
You closed your eyes and let go, marveling at the power of the pleasure. Your legs trembled while your walls convulsed on his cock. Your thigh muscles gave out under the pleasure and the dead weight sank you a smidgen further down, over-filling you with his length
“Oh, FUCK,” you gasped.
“Attagirl, yeah,” Joel said, “Oh, goddammit,” he pulled you hard against his chest, one hand grasping your breast.
You regained enough control to adjust your hips and relieve the pressure of his tip against the door to your womb.
Joel sucked in air through his teeth, and took a long, controlled breath.
“You good, Man?” Tommy asked with a smile in his voice, and lifted his hips out of the seat, drawing your eyes to Tommy's bulging swim trunks as he fetched something out of his pocket.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” Joel cursed. Ain't gonna do it,” he said. He took a deep breath and held it.
Tommy quickly lit a joint and handed it to Joel. Joel took a puff. His dick twitched faintly, but didn't unleash the typical blast of warmth. A slight dribble was felt in your depths, but he'd managed not to full-on explode.
He relaxed back against the seat and caressed your cheek, then released the smoke from his mouth in a long sigh. Indirectly, you breathed some of it in.
“Woo!” Joel exclaimed. “Still in business….. Ohhhh, that was good, sugar…. Fuck, you feel good… really feel like heaven, baby. MMM,”
He slapped the center arm rest for emphasis. “Fuck!” He took a deep breath and let it out with another sigh. “Never felt a pussy like it…. Tight and soft…”
“Hungry too,” Tommy added. “Mmm…. Hey sugar, you like that last time? Like havin’ two cocks stuffed up in ya?”
“That was wild,” you replied. "Nothing like it."
Tommy asked, “Which ya like better? One in the back or both in that hungry pussy?”
“I don't know,” you laughed and asked, “What are you into, Tommy?”
“Well, I gotta say, the ass has an edge ‘cause I don't gotta worry ‘bout comin’ inside and havin’ Joel lose his shit,” he playfully hit Joel's shoulder with the back of his hand, then took the joint from him. “But it felt really fuckin’ good bein’ crammed in that pussy together.” Tommy took a hit, then looked at the joint.
“Drive,” Joel commanded, and Tommy muttered, “Oh, shit,” letting the smoke out of his mouth as he noticed the green light. ‘Grandpa Miller’ had already driven away with one hand out his window, wiping something on the side of his car.
Tommy rolled your window up halfway. Then Joel took the joint back from him and brought it to your lips. You took a tiny puff.
"Aww," Tommy cooed.
Joel pinched out the joint and handed it back. Tommy tucked it behind his ear.
“Hey baby?” Joel said, "What if we were parked just like this, and some guy came up and asked if he could feel your tits, just for a second?”
“What would I do?” You asked.
“Yeah.”
“Guess I'd say I'm busy,” you answered. "I'd say he's gotta get in line.”
The three of you laughed, and you added, “oh my gosh,” with a chuckle.
“And what if it was alright with me?” Joel asked. “Hmm?” He squeezed both your breasts and at a hornier pitch, asked, “What if it turned me on?”
“Just for some guy to feel my tits? That's it?”You asked.
“Yeah,” Joel confirmed, “Just to cop a feel.”
“Fine, I guess,” you agreed.
Joel groaned into your hair then kissed behind your ear and whispered, “That's my girl.” He kept the fantasy going: “Fuck yeah. He can….he can do it while you’re sittin’ right on this dick… and I'll feel how much ya like it or not.”
“What does this guy look like?” You teasingly asked.
“Hot,” Tommy answered. “Hot, with a big cock….So you'd do it?”
“Sure,” you answered. “Hot with a big cock? No brainer.”
He was about to bite his knuckle but bit your shoulder instead.
----
When you arrived at their residence, it was a lot nicer than you expected. It was gated, sprawling, with a pool. And that was exactly where you were headed. A pool with a couple of cabanas, cushions, pillows, nice grills.
“Is this like….. a country club?” you asked.
“Nah, this is *our* house, baby. The Miller Den…”
“Oh, wow… your business must be doing great.”
“What’d I tell ya, pumpkin? Don't gotta worry ‘bout nothin’.”
Tommy parked the truck and cracked the windows. Joel fumbled with the door handle and Tommy said “I got it,” then jogged around to the passenger door and opened it.
“C’mere, sugar,” Tommy murmured and held your hand. Joel angled his hips toward the door and lifted, giving you a boost. Then his cock slid out of you as Tommy eased you into his own big arms.
“Mm,” Tommy hummed into your hair as he helped you out of the truck, facing him. He set you on your own two feet, but kept his strong arms around you until he knew you were okay to stand. “You good?” He asked.
“Yeah,” you sighed.
Joel made you your favorite drink at their outdoor bar and you enjoyed it in the pool while Tommy unloaded the truck and cleaned the fish.
After dinner and dessert, Joel laid back under the cabana and gave his massive erection a squeeze through his shorts before pulling them off and letting his cock stand proud and free. You pulled your bottoms off, too. “Alright, c’mere,” he beckoned you into straddling him. You held his shaft near the base to run his tip through your slick, then fit him for entry and sank down. His hands on your hips helped you slide right onto his cock. “Ohh God,” he sighed, watching his length swallowed to the hilt. “Tommy, I dunno how much longer I can go like this,” he admitted.
“You got this, Joel. You got this,” Tommy encouraged him.
“Alright,” Joel agreed, “maybe if we, uh, talk or somethin’.”
“Yeah,” Tommy said. “Hey, the surf's supposed to be great next week…”
They talked about the weather, movies, shows, places they’d like to visit–they included you in that part. Tommy sat back on a neighboring mattress under the same cabana, facing the same direction as Joel with a front row seat of you speared on his brother’s big dick. The three of you talked casually, and Tommy was looking around, not totally fixed on the beautiful sight before him. He adjusted himself a couple of times. He muttered “damn,” when you stretched and yawned. But as time went on, his eyes had trouble pulling away from your body, and his hands had trouble pulling away from his crotch. And you had trouble not watching him be driven crazy with arousal. The flow of conversation began to falter with the distraction.
Tommy asked, “How ‘bout about a little DP, darlin’? Whatcha think, Joel?”
“Fuck,” Joel said, “That’ll do me in… that what ya want, baby?”
You replied, “Just want your cum.”
“Oh, you’re gonna get it, sugar…”
You yawned and said, “good,” with your eyes half closed.
Joel asked, “Think ya can fall asleep like this, baby?”
“Yeah, I'm already about to.”
“How ‘bout we take a little nap…give my balls a little more time to load up. Hm?”
You yawned again, “yeah,” and tucked your head into his neck.
“Good girl,” Joel said, then asked Tommy to get him another beer.
You fell asleep on Joel's cock with not a care in the world. He caressed your head and your back, and got Tommy to drape your dark zebra print sarong over the two of you as a light, soft blanket. You hummed in contentment, and soon you were both asleep.
As the two of you dozed and the sun finished setting, Tommy went in to retrieve some lube, and he carefully positioned a chair facing the cabana about 10 meters away. He pulled down his swim trunks, spread his thighs, and jacked off as quietly as he could. When he imagined you packed with both their cocks, goosebumps prickled his forearms. “Fuck,” he whispered. You were so perfect. He dared to imagine himself balls deep in your cunt, unleashing a massive load, and, “oh, shit–ohh,” the split-second forbidden fantasy made him bust sooner than he meant to.
When you woke up, your hips were already moving, and so were Joel's. You were grinding against him, about to come, and in sync with your rhythm, he was thrusting up into you, grunting and moaning.
“Ohh, fuck,” he cursed, half awake. “Oh, god,” his voice was weak.
He shuddered and slammed his hips upward, then his dick twitched, his fingers dug into your ass, and he pulled you down. Grinding upward with his cock seated deep inside, he gave you his mega load, one massive throb at a time.
Your orgasm overtook you, and your convulsions mixed with his, milking his cock even better.
“Yeah, yeah,” Joel panted, “Oh, fuck yeah…. Goddamn, baby.”
Thick ropes of silk shot into your womb, one after another.
Each one seemed to last two seconds, with not even a second in between. Nearly a continuous fountain.
“Jesus,” you cursed. “Ugh–Mmm.”
“Yeah,” he breathed, still not empty. “Fill you up real good…mm. Sit up for me, darlin’.”
You sat up and held your breasts. His face was wrecked and pink. His neck vein bulged. The chain around his neck pooled between his collarbone and throat. His mouth hung half open as he watched your lower abdomen. You were fuller and fuller.
“Oh, goddammit,” he grumbled, once his ropes lost volume. By then they were closer to typical volume for a man whose orgasm just started.
You put a hand on your belly, looked down, and moaned at the swelling.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “Fuck, you're goddamn perfect.” His hips slowed once he was finally drained.
You were left bloated with his titan load, both hands on your tummy, pressing your fingers slightly into your skin, watching your belly move just slightly with the pressure. It felt wild, familiar, and remarkably arousing.
“God damn, you're hot,” he said with you still seated on his cock. He caressed your belly and said, “We got more work to do, but fuck, you look good, baby.” He admired you with his own skin glowing and reminded you, “You’re here all night.”
“More work to dol?” Tommy asked.
“Ain't as much cum this time, but look at this pretty girl….”
“It's still a big fuckin’ load, man,” Tommy said.
Joel got his phone and said, “yeah, but…” as he pulled up the picture of you from last time after the beach tent. He looked back and forth between you and his phone. “Look how much bigger she is here,” he showed Tommy.
Tommy speculated, “Maybe it's ‘cause she had both of us.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Joel acknowledged.
“You wanna find out?” Tommy asked, rubbing his cock over his swim trunks.
Joel asked you, “Whatcha think, baby?”
“Sure, If it turns you on.” Your reply was cool, but Tommy clocked the look in your eye and nodded, “Yeah, she wants it.”
Tommy dropped his shorts, and Joel teased, “just like that.”
“Oh yeah,” Tommy chuckled as he slathered his erection with lube.
Tommy got behind you, straddling Joel's knees on the cabana mattress. He placed both hands on your ass cheeks and kissed your asshole, then murmured, “There she is. There’s my sweet little hole…. Nice and tight. Could never fit two dicks in here,” he chuckled. “Sure am glad your pussy can take it. Didn't hurt ya, did we?”
“No,” you answered.
Tommy asked, “What’s your cock think, Joel? She recovered from last time?”
“Oh yeah,” Joel said.
Tommy pressed his hard, wet cock against your ass and asked, “Wanna try that again before I take your ass?”
The question made you spasm on Joel's cock.
“Pussy says yes,” Joel chuckled. “C'mere, baby.”
You leaned forward to give Tommy access.
Tommy slathered his fingers in lube and wedged them in above Joel's cock. “Shit, man. You're still that hard?”
“I am now,” Joel said. “Mm.”
Tommy added a little more lube, pumped his cock, and said, “Alright now.” He used his finger and thumb to help squeeze his tip into your pussy, right on top of Joel's cock.
The familiar stretch burned in a way you could never replicate on your own.
“Woo,” Tommy said, “Look at her take. Shit, you were born to take two cocks, baby…”
He pushed in bit by bit, and fuck, it was such a good burn. It faded faster than you wanted it to, then came back as Tommy pushed further. He coaxed you, “Yeah, nice and open, come on….. Relax, honey…. Breathe for me… know you can take a little more of this dick… You can take us, sweetheart.”
Joel was breathing heavily, holding your thighs.
You took a deep breath, then when you exhaled, Tommy shoved his cock in.
“Oh, god damn,” he cursed, and Joel moaned under him.” Fuck, fuck,” Tommy said.
“When's the last time you came?” Joel asked him. “You jack off this mornin’?”
“No,” Tommy said. “The more you talked about holdin’ off….”
“God damn it, Tommy,” Joel said. “I swear to God, if you come.”
“I know,” Tommy said and took a deep breath then let it out with a sigh. “I won't. I got my own hole to fill up…. and I'm gonna do it good.” Tommy rocked his hips, massaging your walls and Joel's cock with each little thrust. “Good girl,” he praised you.
“Yeah, atta girl,” Joel said.
Tommy marveled “What a woman. God damn, Joel,” then moaned, “Oh, God.”
Joel observed, “You got that look on your face, man…”
“Fuck, alright,” Tommy said, then squirted lube on his thumb to work your ass open. He took a deep, calming breath, and pulled his dick out of your packed cunt, or else the way your ass clenched around his digit might have made him cum.
His broad tip pushed into your asshole, then the rest of his cock slid in. “Yeah,” Tommy breathed. “Good lord.”
“Doin’ good, baby?” Joel asked, and it felt like you might overheat.
“H-Hot,” you answered with a little shudder. Your nipples poked into Tommy's palms, making him moan and squeeze your tits.
Joel grabbed his cold beer and sat up to lift the bottle to your lips. He poured you a sip and you swallowed, with some of it dribbling down your face.
Tommy asked Joel, “How many ropes ya think I got?” then, with his hands on your bloated middle, “Shit, how many ropes is this?”
“Fuck, I forgot to count,” Joel replied. “I reckon nine or ten.”
“Big ones,” you added.
“Oh, she likes the big ones,” Tommy chuckled, then pulled his hips back. After pushing his shaft fully I'm again, he said, “Damn, she can really take it in the ass. Joel, you ever fuck her ass yet?”
“Nah,” Joel answered. "Got my hole right here."
“Yeah,” Tommy agreed. “Too busy tryin’ to get her pregnant, huh?”
“Yeah, I ain't wastin’ a drop,” Joel said, then asked, “How's it feel? Nice an’ tight?”
“Fuck yeah,” Tommy said. “Tight but easy. She’s a sweet little hole, don't fight back.”
You pushed your rear back against Tommy and he marveled, “Fuck, she swallowed it right up. Good girl.”
“Yeah, she's a good girl,” Joel agreed.
Their cocks were separated only by your thin, stretched wall. Joel's hips rolled under you, and Tommy fucked you nice and slow. “ooh-wee.”
Stuffed in both holes–something you’d imagined every day since that time on the beach, never really able to conjure the feeling, even using your biggest dildo while wearing your biggest butt plug. You'd made yourself cum that way, but it was nothing like being between these brothers. Their hands all over you. Their grunts and moans, praise and encouragement. Their sturdy bodies. Their warm, throbbing cocks, rigid and massive. Their spongy, pliant heads, engorged by their desire for *you*.
“God damn, I could get used to this,” Tommy gave your ass a little slap.
“Are you holdin’ out?”Joel asked after a minute, eager to see you full of more cum.
“Chill, man,” Tommy answered. “Gimme a minute. Just enjoy it, man.” Tommy squeezed your hips and murmured, “He just wants to see ya all swollen….
But I'm in it for this…” He brought his face closer and whispered, “Love the way ya feel, baby.”
“Watch it,” Joel cautioned him with a thrust to remind him you whose girl you were.
“Mmm” you locked your eyes with Joel's and let your tits down to graze his chest.
“C'mere,” Joel whispered and pulled your face to his. He kissed you deep and his cock thickened in your cunt.
Tommy sighed and gripped your hips with his big hands.
Joel was at full mast and began to rock his hips with more power. His lips broke from yours with a moan.
“Goddamn,” Tommy muttered, barely able to contain himself.
“Feel good?” Joel asked.
“Yeah,” you answered.
“What's it feel like?”
“Like I'm just two holes.” Your pussy quivered at your own words.
“Oh, fuck,” Joel said.
“Yeah, like I'm just two holes, stuffed full... like, you're just gonna keep packing and packing me.”
“God damn right,” Joel agreed.
“Yeah, that's right,” Tommy chimed in.
“Feels like I can't fit anything else in my body…. like if I drank more than a sip, I'd get heartburn.”
“How your tits feel, baby?” Joel asked.
“Tender, swollen.”
“God damn,” Joel said. “Perfect, ain't it? This whole thing we got goin’ on….” He moved his hips more gently, and his breath was becoming more labored with pleasure. “This time…. I want ya to send a selfie every day. You got that? One a day, at least, so I can see how you're doin’.”
“Okay,” you agreed.
“And I wanna see too,” Tommy added.
“You wanna see too?” Joel asked. “I don't think so, man.”
“I ain't even blown my load yet,” Tommy reminded Joel. “If ya want me to stuff her with it, you better let me see too.”
“You serious?” Joel asked, nostrils flaring as he glared behind you at his brother.
“What's the big deal?” Tommy asked.
“She's mine is the big deal,” Joel said. “And that oughta mean somethin’.”
“You're the only one who gets to cum in her cunt,” Tommy reminded him.
“Watch your step or both holes are mine,” Joel warned. It was becoming heated between them.
“Yeah…. maybe, maybe you're right,” Tommy said, “She's your girl, I shouldn't be filling her with my cum… Sorry, sugar.” He began to withdraw his cock, and just as the crown of his tip hitched on your tight ring of muscle, Joel protested, “Don't let her down.”
Tommy repeated, “Sorry, sweetheart. You heard him… you're his.”
“Goddamn right, she's mine,” Joel said.
Tommy argued, “What's a goddamn picture gotta do with bein’ yours, huh? If it's my cum, too, I wanna see how she carries it…. I ain't trying to steal your girl, man.”
Tommy was just sitting there with the tip of his cock in your ass, not moving his hips as he argued with Joel. You were moving a little with the motion of Joel's hips under you, and your ass was slightly lifting Tommy's cock in a joystick motion each time.
“Alright, how's this,” Joel offered. “We can FaceTime her when we're together.”
“Yeah, okay,” Tommy agreed, then asked you, “Whatcha think about that, sugar?”
“Sure,” you agreed.
“But I want the pictures too,” Joel said.
“okay, okay,” you agreed and slightly pushed back on Tommy, moving Joel's cock.
“Ooh-wee,” Tommy smiled. “Fuck, she hungry.” He slid all the way into you with a moan.
“God, I love the way it looks on you,” Joel gushed. “The way what looks?” You asked.
“Bein’ stuffed with our cocks and cum….. love the way your face looks, the way your body looks. God damn perfect.” Joel's hips began to roll with more power, fucking you softly from the bottom as Tommy filled your ass with his cock.
“Alright,” Tommy said, “I'll give ya what ya want, but you gotta tell me what ya want, sugar.”
“Fill me up,” you pleaded, “Come in me. Come in my ass.”
“Oh fuck,” Tommy moaned, and with a few sharp thrusts, his balls began to unload. His cock twitched in your ass. He held your hips and groaned, turning into a delirious chuckle. “Oh yeah,” he said.
Joel counted. “Four. Five.”
“Ugh,” Tommy moaned.
“Six.”
“Oh yeah,” Tommy's hips came to a rest flush against your ass as he dumped the rest of his load. “Seven,” he moaned.
Your lower body tightened and you began to come, lightheaded from pleasure.
“Yeah, let go,” Joel said. “So perfect,” he encouraged you. “God, I love that face. Fuck.”
You grinded into Joel's pubic bone as your climax throbbed through your clit, radiated through your core and ass, making pleasure possess your whole body.
“Oh God,” you moaned, feeling the pressure of your belly against Joel's lower abdomen. Joel raised his hands to rest on your sides, with the heels of his palms feeling your belly.
“Hell yeah.” And then, with an upward punch of his hips, he began to come again. His cock twitched, and he groaned. He emptied his seed so deep inside you.
“God Almighty,” Tommy said, overstimulated by your trembling cunt and Joel's throbbing cock through your thin membrane.
Joel thrust low and smooth and slid his hands to feel your belly more. The pressure increased in your gut with each rope, and it stretched your skin. Heavy and swollen, you had to imagine it was what pregnancy felt like.
The pressure became too much, and you had to start sitting up more.
Joel's eyes poured over you in delight. “Perfect,” he repeated. “Gorgeous.” And with his eyes on your tits, you looked down to see how swollen they were. Tommy reached around and held your heavy breasts as Joel finished coming. Tommy massaged your breasts, and the slightest bit of warm milk squirted right at Joel and hit his hairline.
“Oh, fuck,” Joel sat more upright, drooling for a taste. Your belly pushed into his stomach as Tommy fed him your swollen tit. Joel latched on and sucked what milk he could out out of you. His cock twitched again.
His lips broke away to marvel, “Jesus… I don't wanna suck ya dry… Wanna enjoy the view for a few hours.”
But for the sake of balance, he took a few seconds to suckle at your other breast. When he let your sensitive nipple out of his mouth, some drops dribbled down onto the curve of your belly.
“God, I'm wrecked,” he admitted. “Shit… feel like I'm gonna leave my whole cock in your cunt,” he laughed. “I know that's what she wants, huh?”
“How are we gonna do this,” Tommy asked.
“Uhh,” Joel thought, “Go ahead and pull out, lay her down, put her feet up for a while. Yeah, get some pillows”
Tommy pulled out and got a pillow from the neighboring mattress, then went to gather more from another cabana.
You were seated on Joel's cock, and he had his arms around you when he leaned forward and said, “Alright baby, I'm gonna lay ya down.” He gently lowered you into lying on your back, then put you in a mating press. “Good girl, perfect angel.”
When he was satisfied with the amount of pillows Tommy brought back, Joel eased himself out of you and stacked pillows under your knees.
“How much was it leakin’ last time?” Joel asked.
“A little,” you said.
“But when I saw you at the store later, you were still pumped full,” Joel recalled.
“Yeah,” you agreed. “Didn't really shrink for a day or two.”
“Alright. Good….. I’m so proud of you,” Joel said. “You did real good, sugar,” Tommy added.
“Such a good girl,” Joel brushed hair out of your face. “Yeah, that's my good girl.”
do we vibe with the idea of you getting ready to go out with ab but he can't get enough of you so you decide to cockwarm him while you do your makeup? every time he whines or accidentally ruins your makeup, you punish him but he ends up whiny and desperate that he starts thrusting in you and once you both finish, he smears the mixed releases on your lips. he thinks it's a better gloss than whatever you have on.
GOOD MORNING TUMBLR COMMUNITY 😮💨😮💨 18+ cockwarming, teasing, p in v
you’re just sat at your vanity doing your makeup, alfie’s already dressed and he’s waiting on you, but he can’t stop admiring the sight of you all dolled up
he comes up behind you, grabbing at your tits over your shirt and kissing your shoulder and neck.
“alf, i’m busy.” you hummed, reaching a hand back and patting his head before continuing with your makeup.
“you look too good to leave alone.” he murmured into your neck.
“ok, well don’t just hover, you know it stresses me out.” you hum while doing your bronzer.
he makes eye contact with you through the mirror with a teasing twinkle in his eyes.
“no.” you say immediately.
“what?! cmon!”
“alfie, we don’t have time.”
“oh, cmon, girl, at least just sit on it.” he huffed.
you looked at him skeptically, “and you won’t move?”
“i mean, i can’t promise that, but…”
“alfie.”
“yes, okay, i won’t move.”
you sat up then, allowing him to sit on the vanity chair with his trousers and boxers down. his dick already standing tall and proud.
while you were still hovering, he ran a hand over your knickers.
“not nearly as soaked as i thought. you don’t want me anymore, baby?”
“shut the fuck up, you gave me no forewarning. i don’t just turn into the niagara falls at the thought of sex.”
“got more control than i do.” he snorted, tugging your panties to the side and dragging his fingers through your folds.
your breath halted and your face screwed up, fists clenching tight around your makeup brush as he found your clit with practised ease and began rubbing it in tight circles.
“there you go, that’s my girl.” he smirked, spreading your increased wetness over your sex.
you slowly lowered yourself onto him, stifling a moan at the familiar feeling of him filling you up.
he cursed lowly down your ear at your warmth encasing him.
once you were fully seated, your ass to his thighs, you looked at him through the mirror again.
“stay.”
“okay.” he sighed, leaning back and allowing you to finish your makeup, albeit with barely contained struggle.
he bucked up into you once, punching a moan out of you.
“alfie!” you scolded, slapping the side of his leg.
“sorry, angel, you feel too good.” he whispered hoarsely.
you let it go one time, but then he began to grunt, and you could’ve sworn he let out a pathetic whine.
“seriously, stop. i need to get this done so we can go.” you capped your lipliner and rubbed your lips together.
“don’t wanna go.” he muttered, enveloping your midsection with his forearms, “wanna keep you all too myself.”
with his arms wrapped around your waist, he began lifting you in small intervals, before lowering you back down.
“alf—“ you whimpered, hand clutching around his wrist. “i need to do my lipgloss—“
“wait.” he groaned, holding you in place and beginning to fuck up int you.
“shit— ah, god.” you moaned, bracing your hands on the edge of your vanity.
“feel so good.” he moaned with you, hands grabbing at your inner thighs.
“t-this doesn’t happen again … understood?” you got out through harsh, heavy pants.
“liar.” he smirked, fingers finding your clit and moving over it.
“shit—“ your legs began to tremble on either side of his. “gonna cum—“
“me too.” he nodded, pulling you down flush against him as he bucked his hips into you, filling you with his salty release.
you stood up on shaky legs, and he slid out of you, leaving you feeling empty.
alfie swiped his fingers between your legs, swiping up his release that was dripping out of you.
he grabbed your chin, held you in place and smeared it over your lips.
“there.” he kissed your nose, “lipgloss.”
“alfie, that’s disgusting, i’m not leaving the house with your cum on my lips.”
“lick it off then, but you’ll be the one tasting me all night.” he shrugged with a cocky smirk, doing his jeans back up.
König carrying you around the house while you cockwarm him
He couldn't help himself. You may have thought there was no way he'd be able to hold you up longer than a minute, but one of the very first times you'd hooked up he was already nearly begging to take you standing up.
He held your thighs apart like it was nothing, rocking you back and forth on his length as you were helplessly suspended off the ground.
It turned him on to no end, having you take whatever he decided to give with no chance for you to squirm away.
And the man was insatiable. The more time you spent together, the more his cock needed to be in you. It sometimes seemed like he couldn't be around you at all without getting turned on. It kept his mind at bay, saving him from the flurry of traumatic memories his job had left him with.
When you moved in together it was over for him. To have so much access to your body all the time drove him wild. After some discussion, you came to a kind of free use agreement. Now, whenever he wanted to, König could simply grab your body and impale you on his cock however he wanted it.
He made sure to stay productive throughout it, though. He'd balance you on the kitchen counter, toes barely touching the ground as he did the dishes. He'd hook your legs over the arms of his treadmill and fuck into you while he jogged. He'd carry you around the house, each step rocking him deeper into you. If it had been socially acceptable, he'd keep you on his cock even as he went to the store.
It wouldn't take long for him to start researching bondage harnesses to assist in keeping you against him. Having your warm hole wrapped around him while he could do and go whatever and wherever was his absolute wettest dream.
“Y/N can’t do the shoot with Niall tomorrow, so I’m calling in for her.” He looks at Y/N, who looks completely nervous but Harry reaches into the bag and pulls out the stuffed bunny, mouthing, “Bunny for a Bunny.” And Y/N nudges at him with her foot, rolling her eyes but pulling it into her arms.
Louis sighs, exasperated, “Christ, Harry I get it, you like her, we all know you do but posing as her to get her out of a shoot is just ridiculous, Mate, and a bit possessive to say the least.”
“What do you mean everybody knows I haven’t told – wait, wait, shut up Lou, she’s sick.”
tags: MDNI, free use, smut, husband joel!miller x afab wife!reader, no outbreak au, consensual free use, dirty talk (and I mean loooots of dirty talk), reader is stressed and is taking it out on Joel, brief mention of a small argument, doggy style, missionary, unprotected p in v sex, reader tries not to react but that pussy does 😛 (AYYY), sweet Joel, soft dom Joel, mentions of aftercare but not shown, orgasm and creampie.
summary: a week of stress causes a brief argument with you and joel which then leads to him taking advantage of the free use arrangement you both have, quite literally fucking the anxiety out of you.
wc: 2.5k
dividers by @/tsumiinum
If you were being honest, you’re not quite sure why you’re so angry this evening.
It was just.. one of those days where nothing was going right and everything was succeeding in pissing you off. First, it was being half way through your morning shower and realising you had run out of shampoo, leading you to be forced to attend work with greasy hair. Then it was your boss deciding to show up to work late — as per usual — and leaving you to have to deal with the useless intern who acted as if they’d never used a computer in their life, and lastly, it was that stupid comment Joel made when you came home from work in a mood.
It wasn’t even particularly rude — what he said. It was just a passing a comment when you’d told him you were fine in a tone that was unnecessarily harsh.
“Okay, I was just askin’. Don’t gotta bite my head off, baby girl.”
He’d retorted back lightly. And that of course led you to kick up a stink when you were the one taking your shitty day out on him. You’d stormed upstairs, deciding that you didn’t need his reprimands and tossed yourself onto the bed, settling for some doom scrolling in your mismatched pyjamas. Usually you’d change into one of Joel’s shirts when you came home from work, but today — completely and utterly out of spite — you’d settled for your own, less comfortable clothes.
Joel decided it best to let you cool down from whatever was bothering you upstairs on your own — give you some space. It was evident that you weren’t in the mood to talk and he understood that. Sometimes even he — after a shitty day — didn’t want to talk about what was bothering him.
But he knew if it was something serious, you’d come to him. You both had that trust in your relationship. So from what he could gather, you were just in a mood. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed.
And that’s where the idea of your free use arrangement came into mind.
The two of you had come up with the use of this kink a couple months ago. In fact, it was a fun, sexy birthday gift to Joel that started things off. And then it just.. kinda stuck.
You both had a safe word, a colour that signalled the other that you didn’t want to continue, that you didn’t want to start at all.
And with how you were acting right now? Joel thinks you might just need a little loving from him to make you feel better. For him to take care of that pussy of yours — fuck it out of you.
So before he could debate it in his head any longer, he made a beeline for the stairs and then, your shared bedroom.
You heard him before you saw him. That damn door opening so squeakily revealing his presence to you. For a moment, Joel just leaned against the door and stared at you sprawled out on the bed on your stomach, phone in hand and completely ignoring him despite knowing he was there.
Joel takes a couple steps until he’s standing in front of the mattress facing your back and casually — so damn casually, he begins removing his clothes. Unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it off before reaching for his belt, the sound of it unbuckling being sign enough for what he was about to do.
Your clit twitches and your core heats beneath your black, cotton shorts, a shiver slithering down your spine although you kept it from showing. “Still not talkin’ to me, I take it.” Joel comments, pushing his jeans and boxers down and freeing his half-hard cock, palming it and giving it a squeeze to bring it to full erection — not that he necessarily needed the extra help of his hands though. He was certain that a couple extra minutes of just looking at you laying in that position, your pretty ass looking so inviting in those shorts, feet bobbing up and down mindlessly, would result in him becoming rock hard.
You sniff softly and turn your head to the side, acting as if you were more engrossed in the Elle article you were reading about Pedro Pascal — the actor you were infatuated with who looked eerily alike to Joel — not even bothering to acknowledge Joel’s presence, let alone the removal of his clothes.
Excitement coiled in your gut at the thoughts of what your husband was about to do to you. Of being fucked by him or touched and trying your best to act as if wasn’t phasing you.
“I’ll take that as a yes then,” Joel chuckles, kneeling on the bed behind you and gently, so goddamn gently, begins to pull your shorts down your legs and off your feet, no underwear on underneath therefore leaving you bare from the waist down. “So.. I figured I’d give ya a little TLC, Honey. Put that little arrangement of ours to good use, hm?”
You gasp involuntarily when Joel’s thumb makes contact with your clit. He briefly pauses his ministrations to manoeuvre you into a better position, gently coaxing your legs apart. He then resumes his provision of stimulation, a smug smile that you couldn’t see creeping onto his mouth at the sight of your body twitching.
“Such a pretty pussy, Angel.” Joel comments, leaning down and pressing a final kiss to your clit before pulling his hand away and pressing the head of his cock to your entrance, manhandling you up onto your knees to give him better access to your cunt. You were already starting to make a mess — coating your thighs in your stickiness despite how little Joel has even touched you.
You feel embarrassed yet don’t move your eyes from the screen in front of you, holding your weight on your arms as you scroll through the website with your thumb, your brain barely withholding any of the information written in the article. You inhale sharply when Joel presses his tip into your opening, barely giving you any time to mentally prepare for the stretch before pushing inside of you fully, holding your ass in his two, large, overworked hands.
“There it is, just like that,” Joel purrs slowly, and almost reverently fucking himself in and out of your heat in long, deep strokes that had him reaching the deepest parts of you. You can hear the satisfaction in his voice, the relief. “Nice and slow, Sweetie. Let me build ya up, kay?”
You don’t respond although your hand starts to slump a little, not holding your phone as tight as you would be if you were actually paying attention. The slow, heavy drags of his dick across your walls had your clit twitching painfully, your insides pulsing and hugging Joel’s cock appreciatively.
A small sound escapes you, something of a squeak when his tip meets your g-spot. Your phone falls from your hand and your forehead ends up connecting with the mattress before you can stop yourself. Tears spring into your waterline, a mix of pleasure and emotion from the heaviness of your day being released.
“Oh, I know. You’re tryin’, huh? I know you’re tryin’ to ignore me. You don’t wanna talk about what’s bothering you, do ya?” Joel coos at the sounds of your soft sniffles, the sound of your defeated little sounds. You don’t respond, still clinging to that scrap of stubbornness left within you. You didn’t want to give in so easily, you still wanted to make him beg for your attention, even if you were the unreasonable one.
You haul yourself back up onto your forearms, forcing your phone back into your hand and resuming your scrolling, now opting to check out Instagram. Your hand trembles slightly, your cunt fighting the urge to clench around Joel’s cock at the heavy, intoxicating pleasure he was providing.
Joel chuckles again, amused with your determination. He begins to speed his thrusts up, forcing your hips down and barricading either side of your head with his arms as he begins to fuck you harder into the mattress, your clit being stimulated with his heavy balls swinging and thumping against it. Your mouth drops open, a cry threatening to spill out before you quickly censor yourself by biting down on your bottom lip.
“Yeah,” Joel rasps, his words becoming slurred as he fights off his own orgasm threatening to consume him. “You might not be payin’ attention to me. But this little pussy is. And no matter what you do, no matter how much you look on your phone, your little cunt is tellin’ me this is exactly what you need.”
His words hit you right in the core, heating your body up even more, sending your eyes rolling back with the mixture of his cock and words. He continued. “This pretty ass in my hands, and this perfect, perfect pussy milking my cock. S’so special, baby. Letting me use you like this — bein’ my little fuck dolly.”
Your mouth began to move before you could stop it from doing so — before you could yourself back. “Joel, p-please.” You beg softly, not even entirely sure what you were begging for. Him, his cock, his soothing words, maybe. You push your hips back, allowing your phone to fall from your hand once more. Not bothering to hide from the pleasure anymore.
“Yeah, I’m here, Angel,” Joel soothed to your plea and you can almost hear the relief in his voice when you succumb to him. The relief that his plan was working. “Just feel it, baby. Don’t worry about that phone of yours. Just feel my cock on that spot. My balls slapping that pretty clit.”
Joel’s head suddenly drops down to pepper kisses and love bites on the back of your neck. He leans forward just enough to trail his tongue up to your pulse point, sucking and nipping and the thrum of it before soothing the slight hurt with this tongue.
That was your weakness.
Any remainder of control you had over yourself was severed completely, a deeper, more intense moan erupting from your throat along with a; “fuck, baby,” that came out high pitched and sudden. Gasped out, more like.
Joel chuckles into your neck, speeding up his thrusts at your sudden burst of enthusiasm, moaning at the way you tightened around him, your slick walls hugging his sensitive dick. Abruptly, he reached down and gently — yet still firmly — wrapped a handful of your hair around his fist, tugging on it to force your back into an arch, his cock hitting so much deeper with this angle. Your moans turning pornographic as he began to speak.
“Yeah, you’re payin’ attention now. So deep like this, isn’t it? My cock all up in your belly, baby girl.” Joel grits, the obscene skin on skin slapping and the loud moans being ripped from your chest making his mind go hazy. He feels his cock start to pulse, his abdominal muscles tightening as he desperately holds back his orgasm. “Is this what you needed?”
You nod frantically, tears now freely flowing down your face, the release of your emotion cathartic as your climax neared. That was also part of the reason for your tears. “Yes — yes, baby. Just — just needed you to — to make me feel better.” You cry. And he could tell it was the truth — that you weren’t just agreeing with him because you thought that it was what he wanted to hear.
And something in Joel’s chest cracked at that. The sheer honesty and rawness in your words. He slows his thrusts slightly but keep the hardness of it. Gently, he pulls you up against his chest, your back flush to it so you were in a more comfortable position, his chin resting on your shoulder. “I know. I know you did, Angel. I’m here now,” he starts, kissing a tear away from your cheek with a crane of his head, his fucking of you making the both of you breathless as he did it. “You’re gonna feel so much better when you cum for me. Just gotta let it all out and give it to be. Let me deal with all that stress, huh? And then you know what I’m gonna do?”
You can barely say more than this through your hiccuping sobs; “What?”
But Joel continued on anyway, a smile laced in his words at your fucked out state, your orgasm on the brink of washing over you. “I’m gonna get you nice and comfy after, and I’m gonna clean you up. Make you a little dinner and grab you some snacks and just pamper my baby girl. I know she needs it.”
And you didn’t deserve him. His sweetness, especially after you’d torn the head off him earlier over a tiny comment. More tears slip from your eyes. More of emotion.
And just as you feel yourself about to come undone, it’s ripped away. Joel pulls himself from you gently, groaning softly at the loss of your heat as if this brief loss was as agonising for him as it was for you.
You whine in protest, confusion. But he quickly hushes you by rolling you onto your back and shifting you back against the pillows, ensuring your neck was supported before raising your legs onto his shoulders. “Shh — s’okay. Just wanna see that pretty face when you cum for me, baby.”
And then just like that he slams back in, resuming his thrusts perfectly and it wasn’t long until you were back on the edge. Tipping over it, tipping, tipping, tipping until finally — it hit you.
A yelp is forced from you that turns into soft, blissful whimpers as you writhe beneath Joel. His lips connect with your forehead through it. Then your nose, then your cheeks, chin and finally, your lips, kissing your swollen mouth until you were out of breath and pulling back frantically.
You drop your legs down from his shoulders and wrap them tightly around his waist, pressing you foot against his ass to pull him even closer to you. Inside you.
You see it in his face he’s close. Just as fucked out as you.
“Please — ple-ase cum inside of me, Joel,” you beg, eyes pleading, glimmering with desperation. “Need to feel it.”
Joel slows his thrusts to ensure he didn’t hurt you considering how sensitive you must be after that release, yet they still stutter — his hips. An amused laugh falls from Joel’s lips, his eyebrow cocking upward in surprise. “Oh? You’ve changed your tune.”
And despite your state — your dreamy haze. You laugh, right from your belly. The kind of giggle that just bubbles out of you. And Joel does the same with you. Just happy to see his baby girl smiling as he marked you from the inside with his release.
Thank you for reading lovely!! Comments, asks and reblogs of your thoughts are greatly appreciated :)
husband price! thinking about sharing you with the 141
It would drive him absolutely mad. He’d mostly just boast about it during sex, pressing you down to the bed with your wrists behind your back— his large hand keeping them there. using them as leverage to slam into your pussy.
the thought of it would make you even wetter, urging him to talk about it more— just to get that reaction outta you. he’d mention how he’d just leave you there, watching as you cried and begged for him to come back, but all he’d do is let his boys have their way with you. tugging you and pushing you into whatever position they wanted.
he’d watch, with self control, as the 141 took turns fucking you. simon would go first, looking at price for the go ahead before he shoved his hard cock into you— stretching you in ways price never thought he’d see. soap would take his time with your pussy, eating you out while price looked on with hungry eyes, spitting out simon’s cum— having cleaned you out completely with his tongue. price knew gaz would be the softest, boasting in your ear how he’d try and hold you the whole time— showing price how good and gentle he could be with his most prized possession.
then price would go on and on about how he would finish you off, showing the boys who you truly belonged to.
but, it never went past just talking about it— until today.
price had brought you to work that day. he brought you straight into his office and put you to work.
he watched as you hung your mouth open for gaz, looking up at him with doe eyes, desperately trying to show him how bad you wanted to have his cock in your mouth.
“you want it baby? show me how bad you need it” gaz teased, slapping his cock against the side of your mouth, making you open your mouth wider and stick your tongue out.
you’d sucked off the whole squad before simon had finally had enough, just as price predicted, looking at him for the nod of approval.
oh and price gave it, watching your eyes flash with surprise as simon picked you up by your armpits, throwing you over price’s desk that was still full of paper. price laid back, watching with his cock in his hand as the boys ravaged you— filling every hole that they could fit in.
and when they were done, price made them zipper up and leave immediately, watching your little frame all limp and mind-broken. when he came by with his hands on his belt, you spread your legs immediately out of habit, preparing yourself for price to claim you as his once again.
my asks are open !! pls give me something i wanna write and i need ideas :D i love writing little blurbs like this
Forehead pressed to your shoulder like he’s ashamed but also can’t fucking stop.
“L-Leon,” you whisper, gently. “You… you already came, baby.”
His fingers dig into your thighs.
You hear him breathe in through his nose like he’s trying to calm down. He’s not calm.
“I—I know. I know, I just…”
He cuts off. Shivers.
He doesn’t know what he’s doing.
All he knows is you’re warm, wet, wrapped around him, and he can’t think.
“Just a little longer,” he mumbles.
“Don’t wanna pull out yet.”
He’s not even looking at you.
He’s staring down at where his cock is still buried in you, lips parted, eyes glassy like he’s stoned on you.
Not even blinking.
“Fuck…”
“You’re still so warm…”
“Still squeezing me…”
He moans. Soft. Desperate.
And he grinds in deeper.
His rhythm is off.
He keeps twitching inside you.
Like his body’s fighting itself — overstimulated but desperate to stay connected.
His hips do this slow roll, and you whimper. Your cunt flutters.
That’s it. That’s what breaks him.
He whines — fucking whines — and sinks all the way in, body collapsing.
“Oh f-fuck—d-don’t do that—can’t—can’t take it—”
You reach up and stroke his hair.
He’s soaked. Shaking. Breathing hard.
“Leon. Look at me.”
He does.
Eyes wet. Lips trembling. Completely gone.
“You’re so good,” he says, voice wrecked.
“So good. Can’t stop thinking about how you feel.”
“Woke up hard, went to sleep hard, couldn’t even breathe today without remembering this—you—”
“I feel fucking high.”
He kisses you.
Messy. Sloppy. Tongue too desperate.
His body is still moving. Still chasing another orgasm he doesn’t even have the stamina for.
“I-I think I came too fast,” he whispers into your mouth.
“Didn’t get to memorize it. The way you—shit—fuck—I need it again—just once—just…”
And then he cums again.
Just from your walls fluttering around him.
Barely even thrusting.
He groans against your mouth and spills into you again with a pathetic little gasp.
“Shitshitshit—’m sorry—can’t help it—y-you’re too good, you’re too—”
After that, he goes limp.
But doesn’t pull out.
Just lays on top of you. Face pressed between your tits. Arms wrapped around your waist like a child.
He’s silent for a long time.
Still inside. Still twitching.
Still catching his breath.
Then:
“If you leave me… I’m gonna die.”
You laugh.
“Jesus, Leon.”
“I’m serious. Don’t even joke about getting up.”
CHRIS REDFIELD ༄.°
You're not sure which round this is.
Your brain won’t do numbers anymore.
Your legs have stopped working.
Your skin feels raw. Oversensitive. Like you’ve been stripped to the nerve.
And Chris is still fucking you.
Not with thrusts.
Not with rhythm.
Just this slow, desperate, mindless grind.
Slippery. Sticky. Filthy.
The weight of his body pressing yours down, sweat dripping off his jaw onto your collarbone, the stretch of him never-ending.
He came inside you—
Once.
Twice.
Maybe three times?
You don’t know.
You can still feel it leaking out.
You can feel his cock still thick, still twitching, still rubbing into that same bruised, swollen spot with every drag of his hips.
He won’t speak.
Not properly.
Just:
“Ngh… fuck—mmf—just… warm—warm, you’re s’fucking warm—don’t—don’t stop—don’t push me out—”
His voice sounds wrecked.
Like he’s been crying or screaming for hours.
He might have.
You might have.
Neither of you knows anymore.
You try to say his name, but it comes out as a wet gasp. Your mouth won’t close. You feel his hand slide under your neck, just holding, and his other hand grabs at your waist like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.
“You’re still there…” he slurs into your shoulder. “Still tight—still inside—still mine—mine mine mine—”
You think you blacked out for a second.
When you come back to, your thighs are shaking and his hips are still moving.
Not even thrusting — just rubbing, mindlessly rutting, cock pushing slow and messy into overstimulated, slick-soaked heat.
You hear a wet sound and realize it’s him. Crying.
Just a little.
Breathing all fucked up. Drool on your chest. Words choked and broken and ruined.
