ââŕ¨ŕ§ââWelcome to my blog ââŕ¨ŕ§ââ
Iri speaking (Ëśáľ áľ áľËś)
I am a fanfcition author previously on AO3 (long time ago) and now decided I like writing again.
I mainly write for Simon Riley, Leon Kennedy and will dab in a little of the other CoD men. Otherwise I am in a few fandoms (DC (Jason Todd predominantly, but I like a few others, too),LaDS, CoD, JJK, ATSV... basically most animated media).
So, here is my MASTERLIST
Feel free to ask me things in my inbox!
requests are welcome but I am someone who only writes when I'm in the mood, so no gurantees
Otherwise, thank you all for the warm welcome I got on here and the reblogs â¸(ď˝ĄË áľ Ë )â¸âĄ
John knows what type of girl you are the moment he lays eyes on you. A bit shy and unsure, looking like someone who needs to be taken care of, literally begging him to come pick you up and make you his with those round eyes, filled with curiosity of why your cunt ached when looking at men like him. Men with an almost inappropriate age gap, men with slight wrinkles around their eyes, men that looked like they could show you more than any boy your age could.
It's a treat so delicious he doesn't think he'll ever to live without it, seeing you so intrigued. You've never experienced this before, being treated so well, having everything paid for you, being doted on by someone who knows how to. And you're so sweet about it, thanking him for every little thing, face flushed.
And when you're smaller, naked frame is buried under his thick, muscled body late into the night, his thick cock fucking into you, stretching you up wider than you ever fathomed you could, he could happily drown in the obscene squelches of your cunt taking all of him. Sweet moans, cries of his name, your nails digging into his back, where surely red marks would form.
He has you in the meanest mating press, his cock bulging out your tummy with every stroke, his hands pressing down your thighs until your knees touch your chest, his whole weight put into feeding his thick girth into you. And fuck, do you make his breeding kink act up. Such a gorgeous thing, young and sweet. The urge to fill you up over and over, until his thick, white seed leaks out of your for days, your cunt too wrecked to keep his loads inside you was consuming. Spurts of hot semen painting your walls until you whine out you were too full of him, that your poor cunt was at its limits, though somehow the pure pressure manages to push the seed out around his still hard cock.
And if that wasn't enough for a vigorous thing like you, he'd gladly eat you out until your breathless and hiccuping. Sitting on his face, your hands grabbing onto the headboard so you don't fall over, your saccharine slick dripping onto his tongue, his nose nudged against your clit.
People might stare on the street when you press a kiss to his lips, his hands places somewhat too riskily, but nobody knows what he can give you, how good he treats you, how well he fucks you into the mattress every night until you forget your own name.
Johnny would absolutely offer you massage with suspicious enthusiasm, insisting that he knows what he's doing and saying he's got magic hands. It borders on begging, going on his knees, puppy eyes all round and sweet like he's the one all tense and sore. Sure, where is the harm? You're shoulder really has been killing you lately.
It's all fun and good, jojoba oil rubbed into your skin, your back slathered with it as he workks out all those knots. Magic hands - he wasn't lying. You can't help but melt under his touch, little whimpers leaving your body. It makes him stop dead in his tracks for a second, his pants tenting up, quick.
His hands wander a bit too far after a few minutes. Rubbing the oil further than your tailbone, suddenly all too interested in the soft plush of your ass. With precise motion, he pushes them to the side again and again in circular motion, your cunt suddenly a little too exposed. When you whine, telling him to stop being such a horny mutt, it just riles him up more.
He'll be all over you, bending you in ways that felt just a tad bit too much, your bra that sat on your chest with open clasps accidentally falling off. Somehow he'll sweet talk you into oiling up your chests, too, rambling about chest muscles and how sore you must be because of the gym. Whatever, you've fucked before. Nothing he hasn't seen.
One thing leds to another and you're naked, basking in the comfort of being massaged by heavenly hands only for him to slip a finger into you.
"Just another type of massage, bonnie. Stay put, I'll help ye."
You whine weakly, but it does feel good. Two thick fingers in your cunt, a thumb on your clit and a Scot that is way too excited to finally sink his hands into you again.
He won't stop after an orgasm or two, even when your back arches up high and your cunt turns into a weeping mess of slick. There is a passion behind it, an obssesion of seeing your clenching hole take three of his digits, becoming so, so wet and growing even more desperate with each orgasm.
It's inevitable for him to start eating you out. Legs on his shoulders, his nose buried into you as he takes a strong whiff, trying to drown himself in your pussy juices. Your legs are kicking when he sucks at your swollen clit, gargled moans bubbling from your chest. Over and over he just drinks up all the slick your cunt offers to him, cumming in his pants when you start to squirt. The loud gush of liquid sprays onto his face, into his hair, dripping into his shirt. You would have been embarassed if you were coherent enough, but he way he looks at you, ears red, eyes rolling back as he creams into his boxers made it look like it was the sexiest thing a woman could do.
Until you've squirted onto him at least two more times, marking his body with your sweet pussy, he won't let off. The hour he spent massaging you might be thrown out the window with how much you were trembling and clenching, but he'll be ready to do it all over again if it meant even a chance of being able to shove his face into your cunt.
Simon calls it the only right way to come home . Just softly tapping the bulbous tip of his fat cock against your messy clit he spent a good hour lapping at because showing up empty handed after months away was a no go. Sweet knocks, to say hello, to make your pussy remember. Not like she would ever forget him or the cock-shaped form he fucked into her, but reminders are always welcome. Small gestures, to let you know this was his home, his cunt to fuck.
And when he finally sinks into that messy, hot hole of yours, a guttural groan sounding from his throat, his hand tight around yours, it's like he's a man changed. Deep strokes, all with underlying desperation. Raw friction against your sensitive walls, fucking into all the sweet spots his length always managed to reach with ease. A finger or two on your clit because your cunt deserves all the care and attention she could get. Homemaking.
Your cunt is not much more but a weeping, slippery hole when he's two loads deep in you. Soft kisses, like he wasn't wrecking your cute body with every drag of his member, meet your chest, a few hickeys starting to turn purple. Just putting his name onto there, make sure you're all his.
His last thick spurt of semen gets pushed as closely to your cervix as possible. Burying himself impossibly deep, kissing the entrance to your womb, his hips stuttering in overwhelming pleasure. It feels warm inside you, familiar and satisfying.
Collapsing on top of you, his softening cock plugging you up, he'll bury his face into the crook of your neck, letting out a content noise.
Simon just goes dumb whenever he is with you. He canât explain it himself, why he starts stuttering, trips over his own feet, walks into lampposts because his eyes were stuck on your pretty face, why he blushes like a little schoolgirl when you take his face into your hand, coo at him, asking if heâs okay. The big bad Ghost feared by every recruit heâs ever met, the one that has a kill count in the triple digits, just goes fucking putty in your present, melting into a puddle of unidentifiable sticky brain mush. Itâs like his life only revolves around you, his every breath yours to take, his soul, his existence. Tell him to burn the world and he will, only asks how.
Tell him to fetch you something and heâll run off like a puppy, coming back, pretty brown eyes staring at you, begging for praise. And when you do thank him, sweetly smiling at him, heâs forgotten how to talk, ears burning up; if he had a tail it would be wagging so hard he might actually hurt himself. Ask him to hold something and heâll eagerly do so, clenching onto whatever you gave him like his life depended on it. He is so down bad, he wants to worship the ground you walk on, would do anything just to please you.
Itâs not his fault he overfixates on the one good thing he has left. Such a perfect, gorgeous girl that was head over heels for the face he considered ugly and unlovable? He wasnât rich, was no man of any significance; his work was the kind where heâd suffer quietly for the world to not even see or recognize him and while he is okay with that, said his goodbyes to that life a long time ago, he canât wrap his head around why youâd choose him. A pretty life with enough time to spare for such a pretty thing was never in the books for him, so why? He asks himself over and over again and until he gets an answer, heâll just look at you with hat unexplainable adoration, his heart open, ready to hand his most vulnerable parts to you.
And when you come to him, needy, cunt throbbing after a night out with your girls, heâs down to please you all you want. Use him, claw into his chest, bouncing up and down his length as you call his name â Heâs at your disposal at your mercy, any thoughts leaking out his head as your suckling, tight heat clenches down, consuming him. Heâll do anything, just say a word, a whimpered âpleaseâ, and he grabs onto your hips, gently turns you on your back so he could piston out of you quicker, deeper, rubbing the tip of his cock against that gummy spot that made you spasm as blooms of pleasure erupt in your tummy. And heâll keep a big, warm hand right on there, feeling himself through layers of plush and skin, moaning at how obscenely large he felt, splitting you open.
He reads you like an open book, wants to know the slightest of your reactions to everything he does, so you donât have to talk for him to catch a hint; your moans become higher, whinier? He knows to press his thumb against your plump clit, gently swiping a few times to help you to your third orgasm. Your eyes clench shut just a bit tither than usual? He knows to slow down his pace, to give your sides a few rubs as he halts and kisses along your chest to soothe you. And when you lie with him afterwards, curled against him, heâll stare at you, never wanting to have to keep his gaze anywhere else.
Simon and Johnny eat it nasty style and most impotantly; together. Sharing a bird has always been their thing, always will be. Nothing better than seeing a flustered thing tripping over her words, trapped between too thick, muscled bodies with nowhere to run.
Simon keeps your legs open, big hands dug into the plush of your thighs as you're seated on his lap. Johnny comes crawling like the mutt he is, tongue ready to lick up all the sweet juice dripping out of your pussy and finger you like there is no tomorrow. Until your cunt is swollen and throbbing, the sheets ruined, he won't stop, burying his face into you, trying to stain your smell and taste into his beard.
Once you're pliant, Simon lets you lay back, now also crawling between your legs. Grabbing Johnny by his neck, he helps him pick up the pace, his own tongue joining his sergeants, all just one messy tongue kiss pressed against your cunt as they make out, both sicking a finger or two into you until you're gushing around them, back arched off the bed, legs trembling. Maybe Johnny gets a turn with your cunt while Simon fucks him from behind.
Meal Sharing pt.2
Pt.1
Smut 18+, KĂśnig x Reader x Simon
Maybe two-timing the two most competitive people on base wasn't the best idea. Well, could it even be considered two-timing if they knew of each other? Simon just sweet-talked you into spreading your legs for him and KĂśnig joined a few days later, begging his darling to please let him have a taste, because he's been feeling unwell. So it wasn't really a decision coming from you, right? Whatever, you can't really think with two of KĂśnig's thick fingers slowly dragging along your drenched walls.
"Such a pretty pussy...aren't you happy to see me?"
On his knees, so he was more on par with your bent over body, KĂśnig cooes at you, sweetly. You can feel Simon's gaze wander over you. he probably wants to make a comment, but you said no fighting when they are with you.
"Think you can take one more?"
"M-mhm."
You whine out, clenching around him at the thought of another one of his digits prodding into you, playing with your sweet spot.
"Hurry up, Colonel. You wanted a competition? Don't fuckin' waste my time."
"Patience, Lieutenant. We don't want to hurt my darling here."
"Your? In your dream, you-"
"S-Si! N-no fighting."
Your weak whimper is enough to shut them up, even when your just a brainless mess, drooling into KĂśnig's sheets.
"Alright, sweetie. I think you're ready. So, who do you want first?"
"Don't care, rock paper scissor or something."
Missing his fingers the moment he pulls out, you can't wait to finally cum on someone's tongue.
"I'll go first."
Simon huffs, pushing past KĂśnig's body. He positions himself behind you, ungloved hands tracing along your inner thighs, wiping a few droplets of slick up to taste you.
You hear some rustling, probably him taking off his mask, before his thick tongue dives right into your folds. You let out a moany sigh of relief, the finger against your clit bringing you right back to being blissed out.
He's more aggressive than usual with it. Fast laps at your folds, lips wrapping around your clit with urge as his nose buries itself into your cunt, taking a nasty whiff. Three fingers sink in with a beautiful stretch, hammering into your sweet spot.
"G-god...S-Simon..."
He hums, preppering kisses onto the push of your ass, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. The stinging pain mixes with the building pleasure and you gush onto his fingers. Your thighs start to tremble, sweet noises coming from your mouth.
"Good girl."
There are lines of slick connecting you to his fingers as he pulls out, your hole quivering in emptiness when he does so.
"My turn."
KĂśnig doesn't waste even a second. He turns you over, legs onto his shoulders, face cavering pulled up, acting almost like a veil over your crotch. He connects to your sensitive cunt with a loud slurp, his saliva mixing into you, hands holding your legs apart for you so you wouldn't get tired.
He eats you out slower, more sensually. Kisses, licks, a few words of praise in between. His tongue flicks at your clit for minutes, building and building a coil in your tummy, hands coming down so he could put both thumbs in and spread. The little stretch is enough for you to gargle out his name, cumming with your back arched.
You thought they'd give you a break, let you recover, but Simon crowds closer immediately. He doesn't even let KĂśnig pull away. With the latter's thumbs still in you, Simon pulls KĂśnig's veil high enough so he could see your cunt again, his own tongue replacing KĂśnig's.
The prompt onsalught of your clit makes you pull away, hips trying to shuffle away. Two strong hands stop you.
"Don't."
Simon looks up at you with dark eyes. You're kinda fucked or so.
You feel like you're losing feeling in your legs. Your poor cunt was gushing out slick like a fountain, swollen and red. KĂśnig was kneeling above you, his head buried in your cunt, the tent in his pants dangling above you while Simon's cock had worked it's way into you, pummeling your overstimulated walls.
"C-cumming-..."
Your eyes roll back, the orgasm rippling through your body violently. Neither stops, fucking you right through it. You can only manage a cut off scream before a second coil builds scarily quick. With almost no time in between, another orgasm pushes through you. A loud gush sounds, liquid hitting the ground.
"Fuckin' hell, doll."
"...you squirted, darling!"
You can only whimper, tears building in the corners of your eyes.
Impaled on KĂśnig's giant cock, you feel all strength leaving your body. God, Simon was already a battle every time, but this? This was purely monstrous. Nine or so inches, thick and curved. He has you you in his lap, back against his chest, bouncing your pussy as well as he can, Simon's cock working its way down your throat. With every successful bounce he pushes himself deeper, impossibly big in your mouth.
"You're so tight, darling. You feel so good..."
KĂśnig's meek whimper sounds so close to your ear, his palm coming down between your legs so you'd grind into his hand every time you slid down his length.
Both of them blow they load at the same time, KĂśnig flooding the condom with thick, hot spurts of seed, Simon pulling out to spray all over your tits. With a few frantic rubs KĂśnig pushes you over the edge once again, your body going limp as you start trembling.
A tight grip wraps around your body, a few concerned touches to your face as you drift off into sleep.
Heir!Satoru fucking around
Light smut 18+, fingering
You're just a sweet treat, devoured by the hungry, undecent mouth of Satoru Gojo, heir of the Gojo empire, said to inherit all of the family's fortunes once his father passes on the legacy. Yet, instead of going to meetings, networking or being a responsible leader as expected of the man who'll have it all, he's got his tongue up the new secretary's cunt, long fingers spreading her thighs apart.
"G-gojo-san!"
Oh your sweet whimper, your body helpless in his grasp, you really were a sweet one.
"Shh, don't want anyone to find us here."
Right. Bent over Satoru's office table on the forty-something floor with the door unlocked as you looked over the skyline of the city, covered in the golden light of the setting sun. Maybe not the best place to be when you're supposed to prepare the meetings for the next day.
"That's it..."
Slowly he feeds two fingers in.
"What a mess you made, darling. So drenched."
Smugness written all over his face when you whine and try to grind deeper, slave to your own mind. Just a little more and you'd cum right around him, clit sensitive from all his sucking.
"You're already gonna cum?"
You nod frantically. Just a few more strokes and-
He pulls his fingers out, wipes the slick onto your ass.
"What a sweet hole. Well, looks like my work hours just finished. See you tomrrow."
He pats your hips, ignoring the way your legs were trembly and tears dwelled in the corner of your eyes. He was having way too much fun doing anything but his work.
Meal Sharing
18, oral (fem receiving), taking turns being eaten out by KĂśnig and Ghost
Simon doesn't go along too well with the Austrian giant, the transfer from KorTac. KĂśnig is big, bulky and clumsy. An airhead at best, an idiot at worst. Unless on the battlefield. He just feels uneasy around him, most likely for good reasons. their only commong ground: Eating the nurses pussy every night, barely even trying to hide the fact that both were taking their turns on your poor cunt. A silent competition you got strung into.
Simon always comes in first. Just after dinnertime plus maybe half an hour. He doesn't talk too much, pulls up with balaclava and presses a nasty kiss against your lips before bending you over the next best surface to have a go at your sweet cunt. Dessert, he calls it.
He always has your brain leaking out in minutes, tongue swirling on your clit, two fingers curled into your sweet spot as he ate it from behind. Relentless, he draws dribble after dribble of slick from your glistening folds, making sure to flip you over halfway through, so you could clamp your thighs around his skull and cry for your Lieutenant to making you cum. If he's feeling like it, he'll fuck you against the next best wall, thick cock stretching you into oblivion, his load blown into a condom he makes sure to throw away so KĂśnig definetly would see it on his way to you.
The latter shuffles in on awkward feet an hour or so later. Freakishly tall, a bit shy, but he'd never admit. Calls you his darling with his thick, Teutonic accent, going on his knees every time, as if he needed to beg for you to open your legs. Strings of 'thank you, sweetie's spew out his mouth, his grey-blue eyes wide in joy, sparkling like you weren't waiting for him every day.
He's so very eager about it, a lot more vocal than Simon. Comments about how you taste divine on his tongue and how good and pretty you were rain down on you, his hands grabbing your thighs with more force than he intends. A little 'sorry, sweetie' mumbled whenever he sees he's left marks on your perfectly plush body. He checks in with you, to make sure you feel good after you've lost your ability to speak as his hot tongue fucks into you and he rubs your cute clit until you drench your legs and his pants.
And he's scared to kiss you, not wanting to be too forceful so when he seperates from your cunt with an obscene pop, his pants far too tight as he plans to take care of it in his private quarters, you have to pull him down, ducking under his face cover to press a kiss to his lips. His eyes still widen in shock, a flustered 'thank you' before he scurries away. Adorable.
Their good girl
Nikolai x Reader x John Price
Sfw, slightly suggestive
You had never quite understood what kind of dynamic John and Nikolai had; sworn allies, friends, maybe more than friends. The Russian with the thick accent was an enigma for himself; no offical paperwork, no last name, no place to calm home, no girl to warm his bed despite his evident handsomeness, riches and charming personality. Effortlessly sweet and confident, making jokes that had your tummy hurting a drink or two into the night with your husband and his best friend.
It would be a lie to say you didn't find him attractive. Tall, bulky and thick muscle, the same natural affinity to take control like John had. A hand on your back when John couldn't be there, guiding you through masses, shielding you with his body, a soft pat on your hair when praising you. And John can tell. He knows your every reaction, the way you eye Nikolai up and down with the guilty lip bite. He likes it. Nikolai might be the only exception to his rules of him and only him and that for good reason.
It's one of those Fridays where Nik was coming over, nursing some kind of hellishly expensive whiskey with John after enjoying a meal you cooked, talking as you stayed curled up by your husbands side until you were sleepy and got ready for bed. A somewhat routine that was unspoken comfortable, Nik being great company.
"Ah, John. Your ĐаКка is such a great cook..."
"Y'hear that, sweetheart? Nik's a happy man right now."
You roll your eyes playfully, pulling the cookies from the oven.
"If you came over more often, you'd enjoy it a lot more often."
"That is quite the offer. Come, sit with us. You've been working that stove for long enough, ХОНнŃŃкО. John can clean up."
He nods for you to come closer and your husband huffs.
"Let me put these cookies somwhere to cool and imma be right with you lads."
A juvenile excitement trickles down your spine when Nik's gaze lingers moment too long on the curve of your ass.
"Perfect wife you got, John. Lucky man you are."
"That I am indeed. Anything to drink?"
"The regular."
"You want to drink anything, too, sweetheart?"
"Red wine, please."
"Got it."
John comes up behind you, hand on your hip as he pushes past to get the ice, the crystal glasses and the amber liquor from the cabinet along your wine. He quickly kisses your cheek quickly when he walks back.
You settle next to him moments later, starting to load up your plate. Absentmindedly listening to their conversation, one of John's hands sneak to your thigh, just resting there, squeezing the soft plush.
They move to the living room after, but not before Nik insisted on doing the dishes with John immediately after dinner. With a pile of double chocolate cookies they've settled on the soft leather couch, continuing talking with their tongues loosened by the alcohol, your own inhibition lowering as you sat on John's lap.
"Why don't you have a wife yet, Nik?"
An innocent question after he had brought up relationships and friends. He sighs dramatically, sipping on his drink before relaxing back into the couch.
"I'd need a girlfriend first, wouldn't I?"
"Ok then, why don't you have a girlfriend?"
"Looong stories of failed relationships I suppose."
You've never managed to get that out of him. Previous relationships? Never heard of them. Then again, he did seem like the type to effortlessly pick up girls. Or even guys.
"How? You're one of the funniest people I know. No offense John, darling, but he might even beat you."
"None taken. The wife is right where she's right."
You kiss John on the cheek before turning back to Nik.
"I suppose when I'm chasing warlords and drugdealers around Siberia with weeks of radio silence, it isn't enough."
"Do you want it, though?"
"Of course. A sweet thing to warm my bed, to spoil and keep happy? 's every man's dream. At least real men's."
"You'll find a lucky girl one day. I'm confident in that."
"Thank you. Maybe I'll get just as lucky as John, eh?"
He raises his glass to a toast while you freeze up. Yes, he's looked at your for a bit too long, has been flirty, but never this obviously and not while John was right there. Of course your husband wouldn't mind, but this was balancing on the line. John doesn't even react, only raising his glass, too.
"To that."
Both act like nothing happened and you go along, taking a gulp of the wine, hoping it would take away some more of your momentarily confusion.
A soft ring ditrubs the silence and John fishes his phone from his pocket.
"Excuse me for a second."
He stands up, letting you alone in the soft chair, disappearing to the bedroom. Just you and Nik. His dark brown eyes trail you, a friendly smile on his lips. Wickedly attractive.
"So, how's the place been with John on leave?"
"Oh, just the regular stuff. The place is a bit big for one, so it gets a bit lonely. Makes it even better when he comes back home, though."
"Lonely? He doesn't take care of you?"
"Ah, no that isn't what I meant."
The innuendo doesn't go ove ryour head like you wished it had.
"He's great and he's got a demanding job and I respect that. I have my own hobbies and friends to keep busy with. I'm most definetly not lonely, wrong wording on my part."
"And when he's gone for a month or two? Doesn't it get...consuming to live without him?"
"I'm used to it. He calls me whenever he can, you know him."
"I do. As well as my own hands. But I don't know much about...this, about you, ХОНнŃŃкО."
Attempting to play it cool, you cross your legs.
"What do you want to know about me? You know my hobbies, probably can remember all my friends by name, most likely know my drink orders for all my favourite restaurants."
"True. But I don't know how you feel, how you're like under all those layers."
You almost choke. He'd never do anything to you, he's simply too respectful to even consider that, but he was persistent.
"Don't go, charming her, Nik. Her brain goes all putty with that ungodly charm o'yours."
You feel a lot more sober now, feeling caught even though you did nothing wrong.
"Ah, poor thing. Didn't mean to fluster you."
"Nik's been so patient all night, sweetheart. Why don't you go and give him a kiss as a reward?"
"W-what?"
"He adores you and you like him. If you wanna kiss him, now's the time."
No further explanation, yet this makes sense. John knew, just didn't care.
"Won't be mad. I'm happy if you enjoy yourself, sweetheart."
A reassuring pat to your shoulder.
"Also it's rude not to serve the guests, eh?"
Nik's demeanour remains unchanged. Maybe he also knew.
Liquid courage and the dull ache between your legs steer you toward the Russian until you climb on his lap, one hand on each shoulder for stability. There was an amused crinkle around his eyes. Your lips softly brush against his, just a quick, sweet kiss, his hands around your waist.
"That was barely a kiss, darling. Give him a real one."
"A real one? Show me, ĐаКка."
Fuck it. It felt good and everyone was fine with it, so maybe you should just stop second-guessing.
The next time you kiss him, you part your lips, letting your tongue dart out, pressing against his, moving in a slow tandem as he reciprocates, pulling you closer and taking control. It's not unsimiliar to how John kisses. Deep, slow and precise, making you breathless and dizzy.
"A good kisser, too...really hit the jackpot, didn't you, John?"
"Mhm. She's the best."
"I see that."
Nik softly pets your ass, shooting you a charming smile.
"You tired, sweetheart? 's past your regular bedtime."
You nod.
"Alright. I'll get you to bed, wait a minute, Nik. I'll be right back."
When you're cuddled up in your cold sheets, the feeling of your husband best friends kissing you won't leave your mind.
Might add smut if people wanna read this ship đŐ. .ŐđŚŻ
Neighbour!KĂśnig who you can spot through the window every other week, for a few days, maybe weeks, until he was gone again. You didnât know him very well when you moved into your new place, didnât see him until a good month into getting your new place. He is tall, scarily so, bulky and quiet. Wears a creepy mask with bleached stripes or a surgical one. You mumble a small âhelloâ whenever you run into him, acknowledge the way his head tilts at a subtle angle and his grey-ish blue eyes - you aren't sure because you never seem to be able to quite figure out what colour they are - follow you.
He knocks at your door after hearing you cursing through the shared wall one fateful evening. You open the door, still soaked and hastily wrapped in a bathrobe. Youâre about to scream when he enters after giving you one glance, pushing past your body with no issue. But before you can form a sentence, an empty threat, heâs marched in your bathroom.
âW-what the hell?â
He doesnât answer right away, takes a look at the exploded showerhead.
âWater pressure in this buildingâs shit. You need to get a better showerhead if you want to shower in peace. For now this will do.â
He pulls out a few small tools from his pocket and disassembles a few parts of your shower until there is warm, running water again and he just goes out the door, closing it behind him without a second word. He leaves you utterly confused.
From then on he always invites himself in for various reasons; he brought you a showerhead, a water filter because he deems your old one not good enough, a reserve power box when the power goes out one night. You get less defensive every time he does, sometimes offer him tea and a cookie, sometimes talk to him a bit. You figure he does this because he is lonely; must be hard to be in his late thirties, unmarried, working for a private military company and living in a quite nice but still bleak apartment. And maybe youâre right, maybe you understand him. He grows attached before you know and know he has a spare key to your place (he made a copy without asking you but you didnât register him as enough of a threat to do anything about it).
Now he is sitting in your couch in sweatpants and a tank top whenever you come back from work, dinner on the table, TV running in the background. Greets you with a nod and a pat to the back with an awkwardly stiff hand. You let it happen, enjoy the company. After all he wasnât causing you any trouble. At least you think so until another neighbour, an older lady, asks you about your husband that picked up the packages for you earlier that day. Meanwhile KĂśnig hopes that if he just slips a ring on your finger while you sleep youâll accept it just as you accepted him slipping (forcing himself) into your life.
Older!Simon finally taking your virginity
Smut 18+, 2.3k words, squirting, a lot of filth
Previous Part
Simon knew you'd bring it up again, soon, with an impatience he couldn't even complain about because he wanted the same exact thing. He had woken up under you the morning after, the smell that still stuck to his face making him hard on the spot. It was only a question of time until he gave in and if he actually felt bad, he would have stopped it a long time ago. The latter realisation wasn't one of guilt, unlike he thought it'd be, but of determination. It gave him ground to continue and he'd make sure you loved it, loved him, too deep to pull out.
He sends you a text on a Saturday noon. Sleep over today? You react with a pink heart, grab your essentials before running down the street to his pretty house. It feels different than usual when he lets you in and takes your bag from your hands. A lot more romantic than usually, a lot more intentional with your favourite flowers on the table, a nice lunch on the stove and the sqeaky clean living room.
"Oh you cleaned up really nice, Mister Riley! Wow..."
Not that he was dirty, usually. But it just felt fancy.
"Yeah, thought it'd be nicer. 'nything to drink, doll? Tea, coffee, soda."
"I can just get it myself."
You're basically living with him at this point.
"Alright, settle where you want."
You watch him from the kitchen table as he brews some coffee for himself. As always his thick arms move in a mesmerizing manner, the sleeve on his left arm absolutely gorgeous. It'd be a lie if you said you don't want it wrapped around your neck as he finally fucked you properly. Quickly biting your lip to at least try and not ruin your panties, you look away.
"How's the day been 'til now?"
He sits down, opposite from you, his broad frame taking up much more space than you did.
"...slept quite well. Had some breakfast and just scrolled on my phone. Nothing special."
"Yeah? Y'dream anything?"
You shake your head. It was not the right time to bring up the wet dream you had of him taking you apart on his tongue.
"Really?"
Sometimes it feels like he saw right through you, like your body was telling him things without you knowing. Ears hot, you quickly nod.
"Come, sit on my lap."
You jump up like you've been waiting for him to say that all day, settling on his thik thighs, your skirt hiking up a bit as you do. His brown eyes follow your movement, his arm coming around you, resting on your thigh.
"Good girl."
There was a heat coming from between your legs. Not just your own cunt drooling, begging for attention like you hadn't been rubbing your clit all morning trying to relieve some of the tension but failing miserably. No, there was something under you, something pressing into your ass. Curiously you raise your gaze, but Simon just ignores it, sipping on his drink as his hand gently squeezed at your leg.
Minutes pass and you rest your face into the crook of his neck, reveling in his body heat, eyes closed.
"'ve been thinking 'bout your wishes recently, love. I did promise, didn't I?"
His words send an anticipating tingle down your spine. There was no second-guessing what he meant.
"So...you wanna do this?"
"R-right now?"
"If you want to, love."
That was a surprise. You thought he'd put up more of a fight after last time.
"Yes, please."
It's a meek whine that held all the restless nights.
Mister Riley's tongue was rubbing against yours, both arms tightly wound around your soft body as he made out with you until everything felt sticky and warm and you're shivering for air. Even then, he just moves down to your neck, biting into the sensitive skin.
"Ngh-...o-ouch..."
God you were adorable and there was nothing between him and your body.
"You ever play with yourself, doll?"
One hand wanders down, cupping your clad panties, two fingers pressing into the wet spot.
"S-somtimes."
"What do you do?"
"P-put a finger in. And rub my clit."
"And no one's ever been down there?"
Might as well make you even more flustered.
"O-only you."
What a honest, pretty thing.
His lips finds yours again, easily guiding you to open your lips so he could tongue-fuck your mouth until your brain leaked out and your heartbeat raced. You moan into him, little hands desperately clawing into his shirt.
Your face is hot when he pulls away, eyes dazed as you collpase into him. there was blood rushing everyhwere, his touch alone making you want to rub against his leg until you made a creamy mess all over his jeans.
"Feelin' worked up, doll? Your cunt's burning a hole 'nto my pants."
You whine pathetically, emphasizing it with a desperate grind into him.
"Lemme help you undress."
He unbuttons your shirt for you, slides it off and neatly puts it to the side. Some kind of shyness washes over you, now that it's finally happening. A turmoil in your tummy and you suddenly feel so naked. A Hand snakes to your back, unclasping your bra and your soft chest bounces out of their restraints. Perfect squishy and soft, sensitive skin he could play with.
His hands cup your boobs, gently pushing them apart to let them bounce back, your nipples hard and pebbled, perfect against his calloused palms.
"Fuckin' hell, you're gorgeous."
The whimper you let out when he flicks your nipple is music to his ears.
Pressing his face into your chest, he takes a whiff to your utter embrarassment, his tongue starting to trace along every edge and curve.
"W-what are you doing, M-mister Riley?"
Sqeaky, a bit ashamed. Little girl doesn't even know what foreplay is.
"Just appreciating your pretty tits, love. Feel bad?"
"N-no."
There was just something about the way you looked like you could cry any moment whenever he did didrty things with you that turned him on immensely. The way he knew he could make you cry and still you'd always crawl back because you needed his loving.
"Alright then."
He dives back in, now sucking on a nipple, makig obscenely loud sounds as he detaches with a pop, letting his saliva dry all over you. You bite your lip, let the nervousness in your stomach mix with the nice, warm feeling of having him close to you.
When he pulls away there are soon-to-be bruises on your chest, little red splotches and a few bite marks. Mr. Riley looks very happy, staring at you and that was good enough for you.
"Skirt off, sweetheart."
You shuffle down, pulling it from your legs and push it far away. Fishnets and panties the only thing seperating him from your needy cunt.
He leans over, rips a small hole into your crotch, suffocating any remarks you could have thrown at him by slobbering into your underwear, mouth connecting to your drooling mound. Your legs open wider, your clit throbbing, strained into a little bump under the cotton.
The sensation is muted, not as intense as when he had you sitting on his face. You can only keep grinding, hoping he'd quickly take off your panties, too.
"M-mister R-riley."
An impatient whine earns you a soft smack to your pussy and you flinch.
"You need to be ready, silly girl. Otherwise I'd split you in half."
You gulp, relaxing again. He wasn't wrong, but you needed more.
When he finally rips your panties in half and slurps at your bare hole, it's like heaven. Hot tongue against your clit, both hands holding you by your hips. All his teasing had you drenched, your cunt dribbling copious amounts of slick from your hole. Sweet, sweet slick he lapped up and swallowed. Your first orgasm builds slowly, washing over you when he prods a finger into your tightness and it's far too much. It hurts but you finally feel full, his middlefinger reaching deeper than you ever managed.
"God, you're tight. We're gonna be here a long time, love."
He wasn't joking when he said that. Your virgin cunt somehow refused to take more than two of his thick fingers, burning far too much despite all preparation. Of course Mr. Riley was prepared, though, now working in a smaller dildo in and out of your pussy, your ass raised in the air so he'd have an easier time fucking the silicone into you, squirting some cold lube directly into you every now and then to make sure it was slippery enough.
Slow, dreadfilled minutes stretch, the dildos getting thicker as he worked you open with them, your legs trembling every now and then when you felt too full. You don't process any thoughts anymore, taking everything he gave you with low moans, your clit swollen and hot, earning a few soft strokes when you managed to work up a size.
Four fingers finally managed to slip into your walls, a little gape whenever he pulled out to admire your stretched out cunt. You were so good, let him ruin your body just so he could fuck you. His perfect girl, working so hard just to take a cock so much older than her.
"You did so well, love."
A sweet kiss to your cheek and you mumble something incoherent as answer. Whatever, he was going to fuck your brains out anyways.
He was so, so thick. His fingers were nothing against his monsterous cock now attempting to slip into you, tip already nudged in an inch or two. You feel your legs quivering, trying to adjust to something so massive inside you, laying flat on yoru stomach with no option to move. His weight was pressing his cock into you, all 240-something pounds put into making you cunt open up.
Simon knows he'll be obsessed with fucking you in prone the moment you look so helpless, smaller body trapped under his with no way to run away. And you want it so badly, arms comign back, trying to get him to go faster.
"Y'feel perfect, love. You're perfect."
A low groan in your ear that pulled a droopy smile onto your lips. All the sweet praise he gave you for taking the burning stretch like a champ made it bearable.
"Here we go."
The rest goes in with one smooth motion. Your eyes widen, the throaty groan you wanted to let out dying in your throat. You could feel him in up to your chest, nudging into all the right places, kissing your cervix.
A few minutes of slowly rocking your body until you adjusted is all you got until he couldn't hold back anymore. Every thrust had him pull out most of his hard length, slamming back down so his tip would scrape into the underside of your clit, bumping into the entrance of your womb. Your nails were digging itno the mattress, every stroke pleasureably intense and addictive, your whole body trembling.
With your clit pushed into the rough material, which was soaked through by your juices, he easily makes you cum again, the drag of his cock pushing you so wide it felt strange, unnatural.
He feels you clamping down, switches to slower thrusts to gently fuck you through it. The moment you relax again, cunt slackening, he pulls you up until you were back against his chest, now bouncing you in his lap. All the times you had sit on his thighs, this was what you dreamt off; fucked open on his cock, two fingers on your clit, tapping it gently as if he wanted to coax another orgasm out of you immediately.
You don't do anything, don't need to, as he lets your bodyweight fall onto his girth, going deep. His other hand snakes around your stomach, suddenly pressing down onto your abdomen. You whimper out some cut up moans, eyes rolling back aggressively and you start squirting on the spot. Hot, gushing liquid splashes into the sheets, your clit convulsing in little trembles, cunt walls fluttering. You let out a scream, your legs slowly losing feeling in a way that you didn't want him to stop.
His own orgasm follows quickly, a long, hot spurt of cream seed shooting into your walls. Finally, you have him inside you, finally he came inside you.
He was you dressed in nothing but one of his shirts when he carries you back to the kitchen after you were less dizzy, feeds you some food and water, kissing you sweetly before bending you over the kitchen counter, looking at his cum dripping out of your cunt. The tight thing was looser, unable to hold his spend without it flowing out. Might as well eat your cunt as dessert.
So with your feet barely reaching the ground, he digs in, scooping out the mix of you and him with two fingers to empty you out for another round. You whine and complain weakly, but when he threatens you stop you become all pliant again, a second slap to your swollen folds enough to keep you obedient.
Your back against the couch, legs folded up against your chest in mating press, he sinks his cock back in. It disappears into you like you were made for him, taking every last inch, so sensitive that it's easy to make you squirt around his cock, again. Only now he can see your face, the tears in the corners of your eyes, the way they roll back and your pretty mouth falls open to let out the adorable noises.
His second load is buried deep, your hips raised with a pillow so it couldn't drip out. He wants to put you into more positions, make sure that you'd remeber every ridge of his cock but our lashes start to flutter and you look so tired. He'll wake you in an hour and have more fun. Right now he'll change the sheets and put you on the bed so you both could ruin it again later.
You should have known something was off when the discreet package was delivered to you. Heavy, large. Adressed to S. Riley. You're just about to ask him what it was and if he wanted you to open it, for him to beat you to it. Gift for you. Send some videos later, love.
To say you felt an embarassing heat wash over you was an understatement. You and Simon had no aversions to toys but this was different. The metalic frame of the fuckmachine was sleek, unsuspecting until you see all the dildos it came with and just how fast that thing could go.
A barrage of soft vibration in his pocket and Simon knew to call it a day. The recruits were almost falling over in exhaustion, unknowingly saved by whatever filthy clips you sent your boyfriend. A quick cooldown and he's off to his room, locking the door, making sure he had all the sweet time in the world.
The first one is just you prepping yourself. Legs spread, facing the camera, working in a smaller silicone cock into your hole. The one you used before getting together with him. You're naked already, probably just as eager as he had expected.
"Miss you, baby."
Your soft voice could be heard.
"Wish this was you."
His blood rushes south. The malleable material slides in your cunt with ease and you switch to a bigger one. Thick, veiny. Not as long as Simon's but more than sizeable and maybe without your knowledge was a replica of a certain Scotsman. It stretches you right, an adorably content expression on your face. A slow few minutes of just you letting out soft noises, getting your walls used to the size, the dildo covered in a slick sheen whenever you pulled it out. The clip ends after seven minutes.
The next one is you playing with the cock now mounted onto the machine. It isn't turned on yet and you just have some fun with it, licking and kissing the tip while looking at the camera. It's his replica now, the one you have yet to manage to take down your throat because it's just that big. When you pull away there are strings of saliva stuck to it. You squeeze a hefty amount of lube onto it, massaging it in with your hands. Such a pretty thing.
Your set up is almost complete. You positioned the machine so you could lie over the edge of the bed, legs dangling and spread, camera angled from behind so Simon could see the way his thickness disappeared into your pussy. A vibrator laid besode you incase the dildo wasn't enough. You turn, throw him a kiss with a sweet giggle, then slide yourself onto his length. Your back arches unwillingly from the sheer thickness, toes curling, a quiver running along your thighs. The masochistic side of you always loved when the stretch bordered on too much.
With a little buzz the machine came to life. Leisure strokes that pulled out entirely only to fuck back in, pushing the entire length into you until the pink rim of your cunt was pulled apart and Simon just knows the tip was kissing your cervix. Your reaction says it all; a whiny moan, as your hips keep on rolling on their own. Needy little thing.
You eagerly pump up the speed, the whirring becoming aggressive. He can see the way you suddenly tense up. The strokes stay just as deep, though now they were way quicker. Gliding along your wet cunt with a burst of speed, the lube starting to froth a bit around the base.
The noises pulled from you were obscene. Little cut off moans as you completely melt. This was exactly what you have been craving for weeks, the delicious stretch as Simon pounded you from above, the neverending stamina he had wrecking your hole, leaving you dripping for days as your legs would give out from under you. You spread your legs further out of habit, letting the machine just go at it. A quick glance to the remote told you you weren't even at halfway point of the maximum output.
The last clip started playing. A lot of time must have passed between this and the previous one because now your body was covered in sweat. Your hands were clawing at the sheets and your legs looked absolutely useless, dangling. Whimpers bubbled from your chest and he could hear that there were tears forming in your eyes. Poor thing.
Your thighs were drenched, the toy drowning in slick, now pounding into you even quicker. Scarily fast, even. How could your tight cunt even take him? Body convulsing, your muscles twitching as if you were long at mercy of the machine.
"S-Si-...'s n-not you-..."
Almsot incoherent, but he can make out the little worlds.
"Ah-...f-feels good-...but-..."
The words get muffled. A gushing, loud squirt suddenly sprays out of you, covering rug, ground and the thickness fucking into you. You scream, flailing your legs in an attempt to heave yourself off with no success.
A few seconds of loud struggeling and more gushes being drawn out of you untilt he toy finally slipped out. Time and time again Simon wondered how that thing fit inside you. You try to reach for the remote but the still thrusting tip bumps right into your clit, your arm frozen in its motion. With no intent of stopping it starting rubbing against your swollen nub, every stroke setting your body on fire. Everything was drenched, easing the swift motion.
With a gargled out moan you cum again mere thirty second later. You manage to get the remote and turn it off. Every limb was exhausted, heavy. There was slick dribbling out of you and the video stops.
Replaying the last one, Simon pulls his cock out, leaing back as his thick member drools pre out of the tip.
I just know that Simon comissions a dildo replica of his cock to be made the moment you tell him how needy you feel without him home during his deployments. All eight and a half inches, with every vein and curve now a silicone dildo that sits in the bottom of the closet reserved for dire times when your vibrator didn't feel enough anymore.
It was a good choice, he realises, when you send him a barrage of clips with you trying to sink down on it, whimpering his name, your camera set up so he could see your pussy stretch to its limits. Just like when he was fucking you.
The silicone is glistening with your juices when you pull it out, making an unhappy noise because it won't fit in yet. The next clip is of you squeezing an obscene amout of lube on it, massaging it in with your fingers before attempting to fuck yourself with it again.
It goes a bit smoother, although, still, it won't fit in completely. Your whines become more annoyed, your hips tired from trying to fuck yourself down.
"'s not as good as you, Si."
Still, you ride it to the best of your abilities, vibrator pressed against your clit until your body started shaking. Poor thing, you must be so sensitive with no one to take care fo you.
SImon's thumb clicks faster than he can think and before he knows, there is a fuck machine sent to your shared adress, arriving in a few days.
Simon Riley eats pussy with a feverish desperation, a grip so rough on your thighs that it borders on some fucked up kind of intimacy when he goes down on you after hardly getting to know you at the bar. Barely even making it on the bed before your pants are gone and he kneels before you, staring up with his burnt honey eyes.
Starved, maybe even maniacal. All you know is his lips connect to your mound, dripping from just imagining this hunk of a man fucking you into next week, and suddenly the world just stands still. A thick, long tongue slurps at your cunt like it hadn't had a taste of liquid in weeks, rubbing against your clit so your sweet juices flowed more freely. Calloused fingers stroke along your pink hole, sinking in only when you feel a puddle between your legs.
Thighs trembling, ass up and face smushed into his pillow as he fucks three fingers into you, revelling at how your tight hole managed to swallow all of them hole like he hadn't pulled orgasm after orgasm from your twitching body. It's all cotton in your head, static in your ears, the sweet gush of liquid spraying onto his clothed thighs nothing more but a deafening ring of pleasure that kept echoing.
When he does finally feed his cock into you, you're long incoherent. Blows a load into the condom almost immediately once sunk into that squelching, gushy mess of a pussy and you're grateful for that. Somehow he keeps fucking you, his cock hardening back up inside you, your legs nothing more than decoration.
Safe to say that pair of jeans of his won't hit the washer for a long time.
Someone tell me why I wake up from a 3 hour nap because I ate too much Korean food, scrolling on tumblr (as one does after waking up) and this queen reblogged one of my posts?!?!?!?!?!?
Istg been following them since a long time (on a private account) and omg...I feel like I made it
Pt.2 Roommate!Simon
Smut 18+, non-con, drugging, somno
Pt. 1
⢠Roommate!Simon who still is unhappy with the situation. You are not reciprocating the way he wants to. You still try to build everything back up, after he broke it for you. Calling people, trying to converse, attempting to go back to work. And worst; you were going on a date like he didnât finger your sweet hole days ago, left you a mess.
⢠Roommate!Simon who gets a little distant over the days and for some reason it tugs at your heart; like he didnât already get you addicted to his touch, no matter how innocent he feigned it to be. So you try to talk to him, feel nervous and scared that you might have displeased him. And there goes your date, forgotten when you feverishly try to make it up to Simon, eyes teary when he still ignores you. Only when you start to wail, beg him to tell you what you did wrong, completely oblivious to the toxic nature of what you two have become, he caves a bit. Makes sure to still seem mad when he growls you to stay far away from other men. In your weak, brittle state you nod. Anything for him to like you again, to touch you again.
⢠Roommate!Simon who makes you some tea in the morning that has you feeling funny. Just a light headache suddenly turned into a blown-out heat burning in you. Youâre dazed, hazy-minded when you search for him â a thing he is proud to have taught; always running to him if you had problems â find him in his room. He acts all unknowing, softly coos at you when you say that it burns so bad, that itâs itching and you want it to stop so bad.
⢠Roommate!Simon who acts like he doesnât know what you mean, softly stroking over your tummy with his rough fingers as he asks you to explain while you feel like youâre going crazy. Slowly you take his hand, guiding it between your legs. Itâs maddening with how innocently you look up like you werenât making him cup at your pussy as you shyly whisper that it burns down there.
⢠Roommate!Simon who goes âoh, really?â and gives your swollen cunt a rub. It has you tensing up, moaning when you realise it makes it better. He thinks you just go incoherent because you were overwhelmed, but no, when you turn to him, pupils blown wide, pink tongue out, fucking panting, he knows he put in too much of a dosage. Your eyes are all muddy, half-lidded when you grind down onto his thigh. Desperately getting off while your slick sickers through all the layers.
⢠Roommate!Simon who lets you, because itâs fun watching you pathetically following your own instincts, stripped down to the most primal, salacious ones. Meanly bumps his thigh upwards to make you whimper.
⢠Roommate!Simon who gets off on seeing you so drugged and helpless, presenting your puffy cunt to him, moaning for him to please, please, please help you. You need something inside of you, to cool you down, to stop this burn! But he is evil. He only gives you his fingers, has you overstimulated beyond repair while you cry, beg for more. The orgasm he gives you are too much. You just want your virgin pussy stretched out.
⢠Roommate!Simon who has never been in such a snug heat that felt too small for him to even attempt of fitting in. But he knows your cunt is flexible, made to take him. When he pushes in, your whole face freezes and your weak arms start flailing around. It was too much. You never even had anything inside yourself. Still spreads you out over his fat cock, laughs cruelly when you gargle around, choking on the finger in your mouth.
⢠Roommate!Simon who drinks up every cry. Every twitch of your pussy. You could barely manage to cry out his name, the thick girth rubbing in places you didn't know existed. The drugs made you so horny, but your body can only take so much. Another load of him inside of you and you softly pass out.
⢠Roommate!Simon who admires your pliant body, still impaled on his cock, as your body gives out. Genty keeps on fucking you for a good hour during which you come back every now and then. Your body is a mess, torn apart to be put back together, brain melted from the number he did on you. And still youâre so beautiful, rosey cheeks decorated with dried tear stains, so much cum flooding out of you. He can only smile, pushing all the warm cum back into you. Heâd talk to you in the morning, where youâd be too sore to even move away from his strong arms.
⢠Rommate!Simon who is all sweet and gentle at first. Doesnât want to scare off the little bird that just came running, searching for a place to live and just happened to stumble into his arms. Need help getting around town? Heâll drive you. Accidentally broke the sink? Donât worry, heâll have it fixed in hours. Suddenly the guy you talk to ghosts you? He has you sit down on his lap, letting you cry as he softly coos at you, silently admiring how adorable you looked with puffy and glassy eyes, crumpling against his chest. You fall asleep on him, wake up in his bed in nothing but your underwear and his shirt, pressed against his bare torso.
⢠Rommate!Simon who always calls you âdollâ or âsweetheartâ, loving how much you squirm around under his touch, too shy to do anything about the hand that is way too intrusive, stroking at your inner thighs whenever you watched a movie together, playing with the softness of your skin. And oh yeah, it also is laundry day and you are walking around in one of his shirts because suddenly all your clothes are in the laundry.
⢠Rommate!Simon who disapproves of how you live. Thinks you should be hidden away at home, not working at all and most importantly; only be his. The guy you are trying to date after regaining some confidence suddenly doesnât want to talk to you anymore. Of course you come crying to him! And heâll let you, softly wipe away the tears.
⢠Rommate!Simon who grows impatient with time, deciding that it is time to break you in. So he starts to mess with things, making you crumble while you think he is all you have. Your rock, your saviour. Friends and family all gone; now he has you to himself, watching over your tiny, frail body as you cried yourself to sleep in his arms. So cute, naïve. His.
⢠Rommate!Simon who is obsessed with the fact that you are a virgin. Dreams about your tiny hole, untouched and pure as an angel, pink and soft, all pliant under his touch; a perfect fuckhole. Imagines how obscenely stretched out he would have you on his monster cock, crying for a break because your little pussy canât handle this! It hurts! And it feels so good; unlike anything youâve felt before. Itâs so overwhelming, his fat cock ruining your cunt, dragging along the walls, bullying your cervix until itâs bruised before moving on to your spongy, sensitive spots you could never, ever have reached yourself. So unexperienced to the terrors of this world and heâll be the one to fuck you over and over, fill you with his seed, make you his.
⢠Rommate!Simon who fingers you while youâre asleep because he canât take it anymore. Two thick digits buried into this suckling heat that tries to swallow him whole while fighting off the unknown feeling of being stretched open. Your mewls bounce of the walls when he makes you feel real good, massaging your sensitive clit, and you come as you sleepily moan, opening your eyes. He shoos you back to sleep, saying that you were dreaming. Itâs adorable how you just close your eyes, start to snore again. So he slips his giant cock between the plush of your thighs, ruts against your heat until heâs about to cum, aligns his tip just with your swollen pussy lips and shoots his load inside. Inside of your â his â cunt. Youâre so confused when you wake up, feeling so sore. And there is so much sticky stuff between your legs. Simon cleans it for you, coos when you look like youâre about to cry again because there was so much happening right now.
