thinking of being between baran’s thighs, mouth on her cunt nose framed by the dark curls that surround it and robby is watching from above kneeling on the bed next to you while he tugs at his hard leaking cock, fully mesmerized by the way you melt into her pussy all dumb and brainless eyes glazed over while her hand pets gently at your head
he leans down and lets a dribble of spit drip down past the hair between her pussy lips until you’re lapping at it like it’s heaven sent. he doesn’t miss the way you moan into her cunt with your brows furrowed, thighs rubbing together humping the air like a desperate dog :(
Summary: You finally get alone time with Daryl again, and this time he wants you to take control and show him what it's like to be under someone elses control.
Notes: Yay final chapter yay sub!Daryl yay edging Daryl until he cries!!!!
“You should know by now I'm not going to judge you, Daryl. Just tell me."
He didn't answer at first, he just shifted in his chair and tapped his fingers once on the table in front of him before he stuffed his hands under his arms like he’d just realized how much he’d been fidgeting.
He still looked hesitant, but he gave in and muttered out a response. “That time… y’know. When I was the one… leadin’.” His jaw flexed hard, and you could tell he thought just saying that was too much. “Liked it.” He admitted quietly. “Liked how you… listened. Let me take it.”
You were more than turned on at his words. It was one thing to indulge in your kinks, but to actually enjoy it? Heat shot through you at the words alone, but he was too busy staring at the wood grain in the table.
You tried not to swoon.
“It was hot.” You agreed with a breathy laugh, nodding.
“Yeah.” He sucked in his bottom lip before sighing, and drug a hand across his mouth. “Been thinkin’ on it. More’n I should.”
You felt your heart start racing.
He exhaled through his nose, clearly frustrated with himself. “Got me wonderin’... what it’s like the other way around.”
You blinked, trying not to jump to conclusions. “The other way around?”
His chin dipped. He avoided looking at you completely, his eyes locked on the table, the floor, anywhere but you, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “If- hell, I dunno. If you were the one callin’ the shots.”
It took everything in you not to jump up from the table and cheer like a goddamn ape, sling papers around the room and start flipping the furniture.
He winced like he was already expecting you to laugh. “Just… crossed my mind.”
“With me in charge?” You clarified in a softer voice.
He finally glanced up at your eyes, and you could see how unsure he truly was to admit that to you.
Before he could retreat and talk his way out of it, you leaned in a little. “I think that would be really, really hot. You just tell me when.”
His mouth twitched, and it almost looked like he was about to smile, but he didn't. “Alright.” He murmured. “Yeah. Okay.”
The time came sooner than you expected. The next day, in fact. Daryl had caught a glimpse of you changing in the farmhouse after a shower and decided his hunting trip could wait another day. He didn't say much, he just grabbed your arm on the way out with a rough grip, steering you towards his truck.
He didn't say much as he drove, but you knew where he was headed. The old library in town, it had this nice office you’d commented on days before, noting how comfortable the executive chair was in the office.
When you got there, you were pleased to find it walker-free. You wordlessly followed him through the small building, admiring the way he looked from behind with that ripped button-up showing every inch of his arms, muscles flexing as he held the crossbow over his shoulder.
The room was just as empty as you remembered, and the window in the back allowed for the evening sun to bathe the room in a warm amber glow. You watched him check the windows twice, and push a small desk in front of the door before you finally broke the silence.
“Sit.” You nudged the executive chair towards him with your boot.
He eyed the chair for a moment before he relented and dropped into it with a grunt, his legs spread wide. Despite his attempt at relaxed posture, he was clearly tense. His gaze dropped to the floor, and his fingers began drumming on his knee.
“You got any idea what yer doin’?” He grumbled, his voice low and his cheeks already tinted a shade darker.
You'd been thinking about this since the second he told you he wanted to try it. Coming up with vivid daydreams about it: what he'd look like, sound like, the things you wanted to say and do to him- it interested you more than you could've ever expected. Vivid flashed of him under you, his guard finally fully dropped, letting himself go like you’d done for him in the tent that night.
There was no point in dragging it out too much. He looked like he might bolt at any second. You stepped forward between his knees, your hand beelining for his belt. He tensed up and his breath hitched, but he didn't stop you.
When you freed him from his jeans he let out a low, ragged groan, his head tipping back against the chair. Judging by that reaction, you assumed he must've been hard all the way over here.
The desire to tease him quickly overcame your need to have him inside you. You started slow, giving him a few easy strokes, your eyes locked on his face. His jaw clenched as he bit back those quiet, guttural sounds. You heard a few grunts deep in his chest, ones he was too stubborn to let out.
After a few seconds you amped it up. You increased pressure, squeezing him tighter, and twisted your wrist at the tip. You spat on your palm and got him nice and wet, so wet that the sounds of your fist on his cock filled the quiet room.
His breathing turned shallow and ragged, and his face flushed deeper as he finally relaxed. His eyes squeezed shut, he tilted his head back, and he was breathing through parted lips, his face flushed and his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
Then you stopped.
His head lifted from the back of the chair, swaying slightly from the weight and the haze of inputted pleasure. It took his eyes a few seconds to focus on you. He furrowed his brows in a mix of confusion and frustration, but said nothing.
He shifted slightly, trying to subtly get more friction. “The hell?” He rasped, breaking his silence..
You let a few seconds stretch on, and he attempted to push his hips up to get you to continue.
“What is it?” You hummed, your voice light with amusement.
“Ya’ stopped.” He rasped, his exhale shaky and his voice rough.
“Yeah, I did.” Your smug smile sent a wave of greed through him. He pushed up again, and you pulled your hand off of him.
Daryl sucked in a sharp breath, his entire body tensing, his fists clenching the arms of the chair so hard you could hear the leather squeak. “No, m'sorry. Please.”
You grinned, tilting your head, and savored the moment. “Please what?”
He didn't want to say it, he knew damn well how desperate it would make him sound. You could practically smell the embarrassment coming off him in waves.
When you didn't make any move to resume pleasing him, he gave in, which wasn't very long after you questioned him. He caved in quicker than you thought he would.
“Touch me.” He muttered, grimacing at the words. When you didn't respond, he added much quieter, "Please.”
You obliged, wrapping your fingers around the base of him again. He let out a low groan of relief, but the sound came out choked when you held still, refusing to do anything else but hold his cock in your hand.
He shot you a pained look, one that sent a wave of arousal pooling in your panties.
“Yeah? What do you want, huh?” You teased, your voice soft but insistent as your fingers stayed still at the base..
“Wanna-” he faltered, unable to believe he was actually enjoying it this much, “feel ya, please, wan' ta’ fuck ya.”
You groaned quietly as you clenched around nothing at the raw edge in his plea. “That's it. Sh-sh-sh.” You cooed as his face twisted in need, his eyebrows knitting together and lifting in the middle. “I'm gonna take care of you.”
You peeled off your shorts and panties with a deliberate slowness, drawing it out just to watch his expression crumple further with every long second that dragged by. You set them on the table behind you, even taking an extra moment to neatly fold them, wanting to let the anticipation build as much as possible.
He nearly cried in relief when you slid in his lap and wrapped your hand around him again. You raised your hips enough to guide his tip through your folds, letting him feel how wet you were. He hissed, his head tipping forward until it hit your collarbone, as you lined him up with your entrance and started sinking down on him.
You'd fucked him what, how many times now? In the span of how many months? There was no reason you should be surprised at the sting from his impressive girth. After all, its not like you were fucking every day, sometimes you’d go weeks between intercourse. Of course you hadn't gotten used to it yet.
You moaned softly as he filled you, your hands flying to his shoulders. You sank your nails through the thin fabric of his shirt the way you’d learned he loved, even though he’d never admitted it outright. You could tell by the way another grunt passed his lips that it just did something for him. When you finally settled flush in his lap, his cock buried up to the hilt, you paused.
When he started giving those little grunts of complaint, you didn't hear. You were still too focused on relaxing enough for the sting to fade away.
You did hear him start verbally complaining though.
He even muttered your name.
Daryl had never used your name during sex before.
“Please.” He breathed after it, his voice thick and strained. “Need more.”
“Shh,” you hushed him gently. You moved your hands from his shoulders to touch his face, petting his cheek with your left while you ran your fingers through his short hair. “Gonna take care of you. Promise. But I'm taking care of myself first. Don't you wanna make me feel good?”
He swallowed hard as he nodded eagerly, his eyes flickering away before locking back on yours. “Yeah. Yeah. S’all I wan’.”
You smiled at that, his sweet words tugging on your heart. It was hard to believe this was the same man that had choked you out and called you a dumb bitch back at the Greene farm.
Finally the sting dissipates, replaced with a deep and pleasurable feeling of fullness. You tossed your head back and began moving, slow and deliberate, wanting to draw out the initial feeling for as long as possible.
He seemed much larger like that, from above, with your full weight bearing down on him, driving him so deep it bordered on too much.
Daryl wasn't nearly as appreciative of your pace, and after giving a few complaining whines, he took matters into his own hands and thrusted up into you.
Not gentle either, he fucked up into you so hard you nearly fell off his lap. You probably would have if not for the way you’d been holding onto his shoulders.
“Jesus!” You yelped, your eyes snapping open.
You wanted to chide him, tell him that was wrong, maybe punish him with even slower movements, but you weren't as naturally dominant as he was. If he was in charge he would've immediately pulled out and made you suck him off for a couple minutes for pulling something like that.
“Sorry.” He breathed with a shift of his hips, not so subtly striving for more friction, and very clearly not sorry in the slightest. “Didn' mean ta’.”
You laughed breathlessly, shaking your head. “You're a better liar than that.”
You didn't give him time to protest, if you heard him lie to you again you would’ve lost it. You started moving again,your movements quicker than before, raising your hips until he almost slid out, and then letting gravity pull you back down.
You slowly rode him for a good minute until he finally made a move to take over.
He wrapped his ridiculously thick arms around you, looping his biceps under your armpits so he could grab your shoulders from behind to keep you pressed down tightly in his lap. He held you in place and ground up into you, driving his cock in as deep as it could go.
“Ya’ feel s’damn good.” He mumbled against the side of your face.
His lips planted warm and wet kisses on your jaw, moving to the spot under your ear, the spot he knew you loved, trying to please you enough that you'd overlook him grabbing you without asking. He started moving on his own, rolling his hips up into you with restraint, like a puppy slowly inching towards a steak someone left unguarded on the dining room table.
He succeeded in distracting you.
You moaned at the feeling of his lips on your neck, it complimented the jolts of pleasure from his dick plunging up into you. It was so much, the best you felt in so long, it nearly made you forget that you were supposed to be the one in charge.
Your eyes fluttered open and you leaned back to press your palms on his chest. “Daryl.”
“Huh?” He breathed as he continued his pace, not daring to look up at your eyes, like he already knew what you were going to say before you even said it.
“Stop.”
The sound he let out had your heart breaking. It was a sound of agony and desperation, high and whiney in his throat.
He stopped moving though, and let himself fall against the back of the chair with a heavy plop. His eyes, half lidded and glossy, found yours, waiting desperately for you to speak, to say anything, and break the miserable silence.
“Don't move.”
That wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Helmet out a shaky breath through flared nostrils, but did as you asked.
You reached down for your slick clit, sparks of pleasure zapping the bundle of nerves as you began rubbing yourself. You put on a show, tossing your head back, pinching and rubbing your nipple with your free hand, and moaning as loud and as obscene as you wanted. This was his punishment. He could just sit there and watch you have the best time of your life on his cock without any input from his end.
Daryl couldn't move, even if you had allowed him to. He watched you with held breath, his eyes darting from your face to your chest, down to your fingers rubbing your clit, and then back up again.
Only after he instinctively went to touch himself did he realize he was still inside you. Deep inside you, and not allowed a nanometer of friction. He moaned softly, his dick twitching as he tried to somehow move inside you. He wouldn't dare risk rolling his hips again.
He weakly muttered your name and you tilted your head back down to look at him with half-lidded eyes. He swallowed hard at the sight of you like that, and forgot what he was going to say.
“Hmm?” You hummed softly, your fingers quickening their pace. “What is it? Huh?”
“Please.” He whispered. He found it surprisingly hard to look at you then, the teasing expression on your face sending his stomach twisting in knots. He was still so embarrassed.
“No…” you hummed, “I'm gonna cum, and then I'm gonna fuck you.”
You were obviously close, he knew that as well as you did. His eyes lit up but you cut him off before he could speak.
“But only if you stay very still. Think you can do that?” Your heart leapt at the look on his face. “If you can't, I'll just get off right now and finish myself-”
“Can do it.” He nodded after swallowing, shifting under you, his tight shoulders flexing as he fought to compose himself. “Yeah.”
“Thaaat's my good boy.”
Daryl's groan hitched in his throat and his face flushed at the praise. No one had ever called him that before. No one. His dick twitched inside you, though he didn't make an attempt to move, and you found yourself extremely impressed with the man. Maybe he had more restraint than you originally thought, which was saying a lot.
He was a good boy, you weren't just saying that. He clearly was doing everything in his power not to take over and fuck you stupid. You'd been teasing him for what felt like hours, which was the complete opposite of the night in the tent when he'd given you everything you asked for.
Maybe it wasn't totally fair, but you just couldn't get enough of making him suffer like this. The way he was looking up at you was indescribable. You'd never felt that kind of power.
At one point, you swore his eyes looked wet.
You worked yourself up to your climax, which took very little effort, and he didn't move a muscle the entire time. He just stared up at you and let out the occasional pained moan, his lips parted, pulling in dry lungfuls of air.
“Daryl,” you gasped, forcing your eyes to open so you could look down at him, “I'm close, you can move-”
He didn't need to be told twice. His hands found their way to the sides of your chest, fingers digging into your ribs, and he held you tightly in place while he thrusted up into you at a quick and sloppy pace. It was so rough and harsh it knocked a yelp out of you, and you had to slam your hands down on his shoulders to once again keep from falling off of the mountain of a man.
“Oh god!” You sucked in a sharp breath, arching your back as your orgasm washed over you. “Oh, Daryl, fuck, so good, such a good boy for me, fuck-”
Daryl choked on a moan and buried his face in the side of your neck, his watery eyes and drooling mouth leaving damp spots against your skin. He'd never stop thinking about this, about this evening, about the way you praised and teased and called him that-
His hips jerked up and back in motions that left the both of you trembling, clutching onto each other as if you were the only things holding either of you down on earth.
“Fuck, mamma’s-” Daryl moaned as he reached his high, pressing sloppy open-mouthed kisses into your neck, “Oh, gahdammn-”
If you hadn't just fallen down from your high you would've come again from the sound of that word falling from his lips. That was unexpected, but oh god was it appreciated.
You dug your nails into his clothed back as you rolled your hips down in his lap, not caring that your actions fucked with his thrusts. They were sloppy and greedy anyway, maybe it would teach him another lesson.
Your movements continued, trying your best to draw out his orgasm for as long as possible, even when his hips stilled. Even when his moans of pleasure turned to breathy hisses of overstimulation.
After a few moments you finally stopped grinding against him. His head fell back against the chair in relief and he sighed, long and deep.
“I love how much noise you make.” You breathed between quick kisses on his sweaty throat, savoring the taste of salt on his skin. “Y'sound so good.”
All he could manage was a sleepy ‘mhmm’ of compliance. His chest heaved heavily under yours, and after catching his breath he helped you up on your feet.
“How'd you like it?” You asked. You were fully dressed now, just having finished buttoning your shorts as you watched him slip his tender dick back in his jeans.
Daryl glanced up to you. He was still in the chair, his legs in a state of jelly that prevented him from standing just yet. He rubbed a shaky hand over his mouth, his eyes darting back away from yours. “Yeah.”
You bit your lip in an attempt to subdue the shit-eating grin that threatened to split across your face. “Yeah isn't really an answer.” You stepped forward, nudging his boot with the tip of your foot, drawing his gaze back to you.
He inhaled deeply, his eyes tearing from yours to look towards the blinds on the windows. “Liked it a lot.”
FAWKKKKKK i already had to listen to the audio again and im SICK AND WET all over again. but i swear if he’s not bending us over in the kitchen and fucking us NASTYYYYYY in this next part imma be upset! like i need nasty dirty wet kitchen sex w this old man ASAP.
── ⟢ WARNINGS 18+ mdni. smut. age gap (reader is in her 20’s). titus is gross & perverted. reader is just as messed up as titus ngl. canon ready or not violence. le domas family is still alive in this. titus calls reader bunny (amongst other pet names). daddy kink. pussy slapping + playing. finger sucking. titus is mean & manipulative. exhibitionism. lmk if I’ve missed anything else.
── ⟢ ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS gif creds: @/billy-crudup
What started out with you just being another one of Titus’ playthings - someone to keep his bed (and ultimately his cock) warm whilst spending his money to their hearts content, often being tossed out like yesterday trash for a new toy almost with each new month - turned into you being the only one for more than a year.
Ursula herself was stunned; she’d seen time and time again a new face for Titus to fawn over before he got bored and left her in the dust, only for him to keep you there for much longer than anyone was expecting, even so much as moving you into the Danforth estate.
You accompanied him to any formal gatherings, dressed to the nines, hanging off his arm like the pretty thing you were, often ending the night with your face smushed into his white sheets, your makeup smudged and drool dribbling down your puffy, kiss bitten lips, Titus’ hips snapping into yours as he bullied his way into his messy cunt, mocking your cock drunk mind and then ending it off with his lips pressing to the sore spots his rough hands tended to leave on your skin.
To put it plainly, he was obsessed with you - obsessed with your chirpy attitude, obsessed with your scent, obsessed with the soft smile on your lips as he gifted you another designer item, obsessed with the way your cunt squeezed him - it was almost like you were made for him and he’d be damned to let you go.
And despite his seemingly carefree, cocky demeanour, deep down buried under layers of self preservation (which you were slowly undoing little by little), he was worried about how you’d react when you found out about what his family was, what he was - sure he usually would’ve either paid you off or gone the easier route, killing you, but there was just something about you, and he wanted to keep you, he needed to.
Much to his surprise, and relief, you didn’t run, you didn’t scream, you didn’t look at him with fear or disgust in your eyes, if anything you seemed to cling onto him more since finding out, ignoring the screams you’d hear in the distance, and greeting Titus with open arms and open legs when he’d return from a hunt, your tongue darting out to wet the pad of your thumb before wiping at the splotch of blood that had splattered onto his cheek in the process.
Today had been another slow day, waking up in Titus’ king sized bed with his head between your thighs and your swollen pussy between his lips.
A rule Titus had for you, you were to wear minimal clothing around the manor, often parading around in the ittiest bittiest panties and nothing else, much to Ursula’s (and the workers) dismay. So that’s what you did today, lounge around what was slowly becoming your home as much as it was his, in nothing but the shortest sleep dress you owned, no panties under and your pert nipples showing through the flimsy fabric. A lazy day if you will.
Titus informed you that he had a meeting scheduled with a member of the Le Domas family, Alex, before he was all yours for the rest of the evening, respecting his space and staying in the other side of the manor, your knees to your chest and a bowl of various berries in your hands as you watch a murder of crows gather outside through the bay window you’ve called your own since moving in.
With one cherry left in the glass bowl, a knock echoed through the room, the large wooden door to the sun room opening, one of the many maids working for the Danforth’s stepping inside, her voice soft and meek as she spoke, “Excuse me for the disturbance maam, but Sir Danforth requests your presence in his study.”
You only nod, popping the last cherry into your mouth, discarding the stem into the forgotten glass bowl before prancing through the all too large, too eerie Danforth manor, the mahogany flooring cool beneath your bare pedicured feet, peeking your head around the open door to his study with an excited smile on your lips, having missed him whilst he was gone all day, Titus beckoning you over with nothing more than a jerk of his head and a pat to his lap, still conversing with Alex about issues you couldn’t even begin to understand.
You trapeze on over to Titus, his hand reaching for your waist to bring you down onto his lap, settling you onto his meaty thighs, his focus still on the conversation at hand.
Mindlessly he reaches for a cigar, pinching your bare thigh with his unoccupied hand, prompting you to reach forward for the lighter he keeps on his desk, your bare, glistening pussy peeking out from under your nightdress.
Titus only hisses at the sight, the slightest smirk edging its way to his lips as you turn to face him, lighting the cigar for him, with a shy smile on your lips. Titus takes a puff, turning his head to blow the smoke away from your face, clearing his throat as he gives you a knowing look, “Where’s your manners bunny? C’mon greet him.” He hums into your ears, nodding his head to a very awkward looking Alex Le Domas.
You perk up at the reminder, mumbling a hushed “sorry daddy,” to Titus, turning to face Alex, batting your lashes in the process, “Hi.” You simply put, adding the tiniest wave before sinking back into Titus’ chest, zoning out as they continue their business talk.
Some time passes, his cigar now in an ashtray, your head in the crook of his neck as your nimble fingers mess with the ends of your nightdress, the sun long set, leaving in its wake a blanket of fog surrounding the moon, her light shining through the windows of his study.
Titus picks up on your restlessness, taking his eyes off of Alex for a split second, finding your side profile and studying it as his right hand moves further south, leaving its place on your hip, down down down until it’s under your dress, raking his fingertips along the inside of your thighs, sitting up and your head snapping to look right at him faster than the speed of light, or so it felt.
Your eyes widened, brows creasing slightly as his thick fingers continue their journey, shakily swallowing the accumulation of spit in your mouth as he finally reaches your sensitive lips, spreading them just so slightly before pulling his touch away, his eyes studying your face before abruptly cupping your sex, eliciting a very noticeable gasp from yourself.
A wave of embarrassment crashes over you, only fuelled by Titus’ relentless assault on your sopping pussy, kneading his palm into your clit, your thighs twitching around his hand, plump ass grinding into his clothed cock.
Alex can pick up on all this, I mean it’s not like Titus is trying to hide it, if anything Alex being there is only spurring him on, playing a game of who’s dick is bigger as he continues messing with your pussy, teasingly slipping in a thick finger before abruptly pulling it back out, a chuckle rumbling through his chest, looking shamefully over your shoulder at Alex, almost as if to apologise for the raunchy, inappropriate display.
Titus clicks his teeth at this, reaching to grasp your cheeks with his left hand, squishing them harshly and turning your face to his, “Don’t look at him, he can’t help you bunny only I can.” He huffs, his voice deeper than what it usually was, now bouncing his thigh, adding to the stimulation making your mind go dumb.
Alex gulps, eyes wide as he watches you both, grimace on his face as he mumbles a hushed “Goddamn it Titus” under his breath, all but jumping up from his chair and scurrying out, leaving you and Titus in his study with his fingers itching to be inside of you.
“Look at what you did honey - you made Alex uncomfortable, should punish you for that you know?” He murmurs, pressing the lightest kiss to your jaw.
You mumble incoherently, exhaling a laboured breath as his index and middle finger deliver pressured figure eights to your sensitive pearl, playing with your cunt as one would with a fidget toy.
“Didn’t-didn’t do anythin’ daddy.” You hiccup, sentence cut off with a mewl as he delivers a slap to your swollen pussy, then another and then two more, shaking his head in disbelief, “So who’s fault is it then? Mine? You sayin’ it’s my fault baby?” He asks mockingly, letting go of your face in favour of keeping your thighs open, continuing his pattern of slaps to your weeping pussy.
You feverishly shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes, “No no-course not daddy, it is my fault, my sloppy pussy’s fault.” You correct yourself, preening under his hand when Titus smiles, laying a final slap to your cunt before plunging two of his digits into your sopping entrance, nearly knocking the wind from your chest.
“That’s right honey - pretty pussy couldn’t control herself on daddy’s lap - I mean what was I supposed to do, ignore her? We wouldn’t want that now would we bunny?” He swallows, working your needy cunt open before adding a third finger, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your skull at how full you felt, drool collecting in the corner of your mouth, prompting Titus to lean forward and lick it up.
You don’t answer his question, too lost in the stimulation for your brain to work, “Honey I asked you a question, or is my baby’s brain not working anymore? Reduced you to a cock drunk mess and I’ve only given you my fingers, you’re somethin’ else bunny.” He laughs condescendingly, trailing the hand that was holding your thighs open to your enlarged clit, pinching the bundle of nerves and stroking it in time with his three fingers making a home in your heat, all whilst bouncing you right against his hardened cock, begging to be freed from its slacks and fill you to the brim.
“Sorry daddy - ah! You’re always right, can’t ignore her.” You cry out, head falling back to rest on his shoulder as his fingers reach that spongy spot, scissoring them inside you, white hot shooting through your veins as he sends you over that edge, fireworks shooting behind your eyes as you come, slowly rubbing your clit to ease you out of it.
He eventually pulls his soaked fingers from your cunt, pussy gaping with his exit as he trails them up to your awaiting lips, immediately suckling them into your mouth, humming at the taste of your essence on them, eyes finally opening to look at him.
“That’s good honey, cleaning up your mess like the good girl I know you are.” Titus hums, pressing down on your pink tongue, eyes watering again as he tested your gag reflex before pulling them out, gripping your chin to finally bring you into a kiss, something he’s learned you always needed after an orgasm, his lips all consuming as he tastes you, his tongue bullying its way into your mouth in the similar way his fingers did your cunt, melting into the kiss no matter how rough it was.
He pulls away for a moment, your pussy fluttering and eager at the mere feeling of his tongue in your mouth and his lips on yours, breathing in each others breaths as he grunts, moving his hands to pick you up bridal style, “My turn now bunny.”
thinking about teasing Dennise all the time, telling him he's too soft to fuck you. It frustrates him enough that later he has you bent over the bed, your face pressed into a pillow, your ass up as he takes you from behind at a pace even he didn’t expect, whispering all sorts of filthy things in your ear “is this what you wanted me to do huh? fucking you like a whore? admit it” by the way, he struggles not to whimper like a whore because all he wants is to hear how pathetic you sound now.
