My Turn.
I never posted this. Oops. I guess this is forever is still on this website lol
The stinging on my backside was unreal. Even on my stomach, I could feel the aching of my ass while my throat felt like I’d swallowed a gallon of shards. The crisp breeze coming in through an open window hits my bare back, the sheets hanging off the bed and only semi covering my waist and calf. In short, I was fucking wrecked.
And so was the room. You could tell by the obviously still unmade bed and discarded clothes scattered on various pieces of furniture (Were those my panties hanging on the fucking headboard?), and the mattress was just slightly off centered from where it used to be.
I lift my head off the pillow halfheartedly and barely fucking awake my hair a big tumbleweed hanging off my head. I manage to catch up a glance of the digital clock on the nightstand. It was just past 1 in the afternoon. Fuck.
There’s a faint sound of a gentle sip, coming from no other than John standing in the corner of the room, leaning against the dresser with a mug in his hand and smirk on his face. His hair was as bad as mine, dirty but slyly messy to give him that edgy “yeah I fucked you all night and you loved every second” look.
Though to someone that had just woken up and had bruises up to her fucking neck that would last a week, it was not a welcoming sight.
Okay, maybe the sweatpants low on his hips made it a bit welcoming.
“Mornin’, Amelia,” he croos, in that really scratchy rough voice and fuck that was not going to help with the whole being irritated at being sore thing.
“What are you doing standing there like a creep?” I grumble over my shoulder, resting down again on the pillow.
There’s this slight smirk playing at the corner of his lips, his perfect teeth peaking through to give that slanted grin. “Assessing my work.”
“You mean assessing the damage,” I huff, throwing the pillow over my head. “Perv-“
He chuckles and I feel the bed shift a moment later, his ears at my shoulder, lips soft and warm like a gentle caress in the summer, careful to not be too heavy. It was light like a passing breeze and my eyes shutter close from the comfort.
As soon as it started, the moment was over. I can feel the scruff of his chin resting near my neck and the feel of his fingers moving to meet my hips. “You gonna be able to sit in daddy’s lap, sweetheart?”
My eyes snap open as I shoot him a glare for the books. “Go sit in Satan’s lap, you fucker.”
He throws back a laugh, amused with the outburst and very much laughing at my pain. I sit up and he takes the chance to lift me gently and pull me towards him, the movement making me wince. He brushes his mouth to my shoulder again. “Was I too much last night?”
I pause and take a moment to glance around the room, letting him answer that for himself. Flipping my head back to look at him, I blink knowingly.
John sighs, burrowing his face in my neck before kissing it softly. “I missed you, okay?”
I soften a bit at that and shrug, feeling just how much my bones ached. “It’s okay. I did too.”
He gnaws on his thin lip and eyes me with those emerald greens, grasping my chin softly to assess my jaw. His face scrunches up lightly. “Jesus.”
I push his hand away, rolling my eyes in his reaction to the hickies. “Yes, surprise, you made those. Would you like to see my left buttcheek?”
Despite the smile playing on his lips, he sighs. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“It’s fine.”
He leans back against the headboard, plucking my panties from the corner and tossing them on the ground. “Do you want me to ice your ass?”
I smirk as I rest against his chest. “Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you.”
John presses his lips to my forehead before draping an arm around me. It eventually slides down to rest lightly on the area of wreckage. It had his hand marks and bruises, complimentary of his sharp hip bones, not to mention a few hickies and teeth marks. Which, by the way, fucking ow.
He caters to me after that, which I don’t complain about. His hands were soft and gentle when they ran over my spine and bum. We hardly left the bed, but when we did, he was the one to carry me with him. The hard part was trying to leave. When I tried to pee he refused to let me go, despite my insistence. He pouts and wraps his arms around my waist from behind, shooting that puppy dog look up at me from my shoulder.
“But I need to pee.”
“But-“
“John.”
“Noooo.”
“So you’re saying you want me to pee all over you? That’s a new one.”
He sighs. “Fiiiiine.”
It was painful getting up. It was even more painful trying to sit. By the time I walked back out of the bathroom, I all but whined, trying not to cry. “That was a bad idea.”
He half smiles as he helps me sit back onto the cushions of the couch and cups my face closer. “I really fucked you up, huh?”
I hum as he massages the back of my thigh. “A little. But I enjoyed all of it.”
Not to mention, he’d get his turn with time.
~
A few days go by. He slaps my ass passing me in the kitchen. I all but fucking yelp. It doesn’t go well for him.
~
a week later
Well, at least the hickies were fading out.
~
I was finally healed for the majority part and back to my active and sore-ass-free life. My energy and good mood was through the roof on this particular day, and I knew it was time for my payback. From the moment John walked through the door, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back.
Shrugging off his leather jacket and running a hand through his hair, he shoots me a relatively innocent smile, no idea what he had coming to him. “Hey, darlin’.”
I don’t give him any other type of chance to respond, instead striding up to him and crashing my mouth to his. It takes him way off guard, his hands frozen in midair to my waist. Licking my tongue into his mouth, I hear him groan.
“It’s your turn,” I hum simply, and the realization dawns on his face.
He wasn’t getting out of this one.
I tug on his shirt and push it up his lean stomach, a groan escaping him. I notice him actually cower as if I was about to bring out chains and a whip. And – while the idea is entertaining – I simply laugh and bring my lips to his neck.
“A-Amelia,” he mumbles, resting his hands on my back. I feel them slide up slowly, holding firmly, assessing control. For a moment I slip, too absorbed in his gentle but dominant touch. His gaze – fuck, his gaze – pierces right through me. A feint of a smile teases his lips as he kisses down my neck. There’s a tingling and a buzz that makes its way down all the way to my toes. It seeps through me like hot lava, making my head tip back as I let out a shaky breath.
But then I hear his soft moan, and like a splitting crack in a silent room, I push him away, trying to remember my mission.
John lets me shove him over the edge of the couch, his face of surprise glinting up at me. It was a mix of fear and anticipation. He licks his lips slowly, as if testing me. “What’re you gonna do to me, sweetheart?”
With a mischievous grin and a slow crawl over to him, I mirror his words from last night: “Whatever the fuck I want.”
He groans loudly when I reach for the waistline of his jeans and slowly begin to unbutton them. I could already feel the prominent bulge begging to be touched but also trying not to get any harder. John knew that I was worse than him when he was in the mood; I was insatiable and I as going to make damn sure he felt the best of it.
Or worst, depending how you look at it.
My lips brush against his waist once I’ve removed his shirt, kissing a slow and torturous trail down his happy trail. I begin to unbutton his jeans as slowly as possible. I wanted him aching and if I knew John, there was nothing worse to him than teasing and prolonging the torture.
He lets out a shaky breath when I start to inch them down his knees, my mouth brushing against his thighs and making his hips buck. I smirk and rake my nails up and down his thighs, knowing what a sensitive spot that was. He merely clenches his jaw and swallows roughly, looking absolutely fucking wrecked before I could even do any real damage.
It’s when my lips wrap around him that he’s really started to make his low sounds. His moans were guttural and soft, as if he couldn’t decide if he should be grateful or surprised. He tips his head back and lets his long legs splay across the couch, the one on the edge dangling off while he crooks the other slightly at the knee. I get comfy between them, laying on my stomach but being sure to give him a view.
“So big and hard for me,” I murmur, just because I knew it would go straight to his cock. I was right, feeling it twitch in my hand the moment the words left my mouth. I shoot him a crooked smile before stroking him slowly, running my tongue up the side and observing the way he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, arms limp at his sides as he struggles, not knowing what to do with himself.
I hum and take that moment to suck lightly on the tip, feeling the bead of wetness on my tongue. He gasps sharply and curses under his breath while his hand grips the edge of the couch.
“Wouldn’t you rather be using those hands on me?” I ask provocatively as I massage his length. “You know I don’t mind.”
Like a man caving in from cold turkey, his hand dives into my hair with a soft groan when I take him back into my mouth. “Christ,” he breathes, looking at the ceiling. I don’t take my eyes off of him, hungry to watch him fall apart. And more than once.
Moan after moan tumbles out of him, and I could feel my mouth salivating from the sounds, as well as the taste. His hand turns into a fist in my hair, body tensing with his hips slightly bucking. He grunts and hisses, looking down at me with such dark but hazy eyes that I knew he was close.
“F-Fuck, Amelia,” he moans, his thighs drawing up and breath getting more ragged. I moan around him, knowing that it would be his tipping point.
I feel him spill onto my tongue before he even cries out, hips bucking and limbs shaking before he melts into the cushions altogether. I don’t let him fall from my mouth; instead, I lick up the come leaking down the side of his cock, gathering every last drop and kissing along his waist before swirling my tongue around the head.
“Holy fuck,” he croaks, sitting up weakly. “A-Amy, I don’t think that’s-“
“Shut up, O’ Callaghan,” I growl. He instantly shuts his trap and lays back down, knowing he owed me this. I wouldn’t stop until he was a groaning trembling mess.
“Oh, baby,” he moans, and I feel the warmth pass right through me, making me moan and suck harder. Much harder. He grunts as I hollow my cheeks, staring up his body and meeting his dark gaze. His pupils were all but blown, and the green in his eyes never looked darker. It made a thousand dirty nicknames fall from my lips, made me want to moan his name until he couldn’t take it-
And what a brilliant idea.
I hum against him before pulling away and dragging my lips against his throbbing length, the under vein slowly beginning to pulse. “Johnny,” I whimper and wiggle my hips as my feeble fingers stay wrapped around him. “Your cock tastes so good.”
His eyes go even wider. He’s never heard me do the full dirty talk, and he looked like a man who knew he was about to meet his death, was ready for it.
Smirking, I test his limits and kiss the tip of his cock. “You like that, daddy?”
His head smacks back against the arm rest, sounding with a hard thump, but that doesn’t stop him from letting out a loud groan. “Fuck, fuck. I love it, baby.”
“Yeah?” I pout and swirl the tip against my lips. I coax him further, asking him if he wanted me to suck, only to get a short breathy “Yeah” in response. I take him as far as my mouth could take him, getting a higher pitched moan as a reward.
He was on overload; I could tell by the look on his face and the way his body spasms. His loud gasps were broken by his moans, head back with his jaw slack and eyes rolling. He slips a hand through my hair, thighs trembling as I lick around him. Each breath turned more shallow and fuck I couldn’t think of anything hotter than how he bit down on his lip and let it pop back as he released it from his teeth. His eyebrows furrow and I take advantage of his vulnerability to drag my nails lightly down his stomach, feeling the way it clenches. It was surely in knots with the tension, wanting to lose it but not wanting the pleasure to end.
I pull away with a dirty pop, stroking him with both my hands as I stare at him hungrily. I wanted to watch him fall apart laying there, helpless.
“Shit, Amelia,” he pants, gripping my hair tighter. “B-Baby, I’m gonna-ah, uhn-“
I hum and squeeze him firmer as I go faster. “Come for me, baby.”
He curses to himself for a moment and gasps, his body tightening before going limp, his hands falling from my head as he lays there like some wasted ragdoll.
I merely giggle. “I hope you don’t think I’m done.”
~
The poor thing could only take so much. We had moved to the bed just to give him a chance to regain his strength, but all it took was me getting on top of him and riding him until he was too out of breath to speak.
He sighs and wipes a bit of sweat from his forehead, brushing his hair back, the sheets looking well worn and wrinkled underneath him. His head raises from the pillow and falls back again. “I can’t-I can’t…H-How do I…this much seed, fuck.”
I laugh, bending down to kiss his cheek. I’m pretty sure I feel him flinch. “How do you feel?”
“I feel lightheaded.”
Giving him a soft smirk, I hop off to give his body a break. With his sharp hipbones, I’d probably be the one ending up with more bruises. But I was more than okay with it knowing that I was able to blow his mind to the point of oblivion.
John looks over at me after he’s gathered his thoughts and chuckles. “I mean, I know you mean it to be torture, but it’s so good, but it’s also so much, I-“ He shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t even describe.”
I laugh. “That’s kinda what I was aiming for.”
With a lazy, exhausted but satisfied smile, he mutters, “Mission accomplished.”