BEYONCÉ JAŸ-Z30 in New York City (July 12th 2026)
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BEYONCÉ JAŸ-Z30 in New York City (July 12th 2026)
ONE SHOT : ON THE EDGE
Pairing : Hugo Ekitike x Black reader
Summary : As the frontiere between love and hate is thin, sometimes breaking up is the best option, but what happens when a story is unfinished.
Warnings (+18) : Pure smut. Hugo and reader are nasty (overstimulation, edging, sextoys, oral sex (f receiving) - WC : 2.2k
A/N : 2026 and we're trying to write shorter stories lol. I might not always succeed but at least I'm trying. I guess ovulation is a great source of inspiration lol. This one is for the nasty girls! Enjoy !
Writing takes a lot of time, if you enjoyed, please reblog, comment and interact. Don't be shy. That's why the anon button exists. English is not my first language.
Today she is more than thankful for her long goddess braids. Their length hides the twists of her face. Clear signs that would have alerted their guests. The ones currently sitting around the table, laughing out loud, filling the house with their loud voices and determination to make a point during various debates. While her voice was usually at the forefront of debates, she is, funnily, quiet tonight. Hands joined, resting on her forehead, supporting it as if it could stop the tingles in the pit of her stomach.
Although she could not directly look, she could feel him playing with the button on the app that ruined her evening. From the corner of her eyes, she spots his fingers playing with the pink button appearing on the screen. She bites her lips, eyes closed, hoping that Hugo will soon have mercy and stop the torture. Apparently, the show is too enjoyable for him to stop. Suddenly she feels more vibrations and squirms in her chair, clearing her throat to stop a scream.
”Everything good?” The familiar face sitting by her side asks. One of his best friends. If she could, she would scream. Why did she even let her ego fool her? There was no way for her to win. The man spends hours playing that game. As a result, she had to fulfil one of his fantasies. The enthusiasm and excitement were there until she realised how painful stimulation could be. Even more when it cannot be vocalised. The little bastard had to pick this particular time to put his plan into action.
”Hmmm… Small headache… Nothing special.”
”Don’t you want to go to bed?”
She shakes her head, ”No, don’t worry about me. Should be alright.”
”Yeah, she hasn't slept much last night." Hugo adds with a subtle smile only she can understand. She gives him a death glare, which results in her jolting at the new waves of vibrations. Her hands immediately resting on the table as she fights to contain her moans.
”Are you sure everything's good?” Her closest friends, Jana asks. Her manicured hand gently touching her forearm. From the corner of her eyes, she sees the smirk on Hugo’s face. Curses interiorly flies. Sooner or later, he will pay for his acts. That sensation in her stomach is eating her alive. The continuous pressure at the pit of her stomach. The tingles in her core, the wetness dripping down her thighs. She has no idea how long she will be able to hold it.
”I’m fine.” She finally mutters, turning her head away from Jana’s insisting stares. Fortunately for her, bottles of water are missing on the table. The perfect opportunity to get away from the source of her torment. She cautiously walks away, ignoring the silicone toy between her legs, rubbing against her spongy spot.
The kitchen gives her a small break. Her fingers tightly grip the marble as the silicone egg suddenly vibrates inside her. She pinches her lips to refrain from a loud moan. If only he could release her, let her reach that high. Just to calm that growing sensation at the pit of her stomach and between her thighs. Each time she thought Hugo would have some mercy, he simply stops, leaving her on edge until the next wave hits.
Tears gather around her eyes as she feels that intense wave of pleasure building up. Her grip on the marble tightens as she arches her back, desperate to release herself from that punishment. Small moans slip from her lips. She is almost there, ready to be washed away by a long-awaited and deserved orgasm. Once again, Hugo decides to ruin the party and stops it all. She groans in frustration, slapping her hands on the marble.
When she reopens her eyes, Hugo is there, staring at her with that cocky smirk on his face. He approaches before placing a hand at the small of her back. Not a real touch, just a light brush that leaves her craving more.
”How’s dinner going?”
She stops another eye roll to avoid submitting her body to another test. The loud sigh she lets out tells him more than he expected. She is more irritated than aroused.
”How is it supposed to go, uh? I have a vibrating egg inside of me.” Her response is too rapid for his liking, too sharp.
”See how it feels to be teased, hm? Remember when you were grinding on me at that party until I got hard… Told you to stop many times, you didn’t…I’m not mad at you. I understand you… Feels good to be on the other side.” He whispers in her ear, his tongue teasingly licking the top. She chews her lips when he positions himself next to her. His hands messaging her tense shoulders.
The images of that night flooding her mind. Her in that short leopard-print dress, grinding on him, deliberately rubbing her ass against him, moving her hips on his lap. More than once he begged her to stop. She only did when she had no choice but to stay on lap to hide the trouble she had caused. Having such power over one person is addictive. Maybe the thrill of it all got too much inside of her head.
She breathes out, ”Hugo, I need some relief. I’m going crazy.”
”Shhh. You know the deal. Until the end.”
"Babe…I can’t take it no more… It’s too much… It hurts. Please do something about it.”
His hand gently wraps around her throat, forcing her eyes on him. He grins, obviously proud of her desperation.
”Beg for it. You know I like an ego boost.” His French accent thickens.
”Babe, come on! I…” She is interrupted by one of his hands travelling all the way before sliding it inside her thong. He licks his lips, noticing how wet she is. The touch feels like fire added to a burning fire.
”Convince me.”
”I’m begging you… Make me cum. I can’t hold it any longer. I need to cum. Remind me why this is your pussy and yours only.”
”And?”
She sighs, ”Please. Please, my love. At this point I wouldn’t even care if you fuck me right here, right now for anyone to see.” He grabs her cheeks, erasing these thoughts in his mind. Their lips crashed, clearly starved. The kiss has nothing romantic or passionate. It is the type of kiss that makes people blush or squirm in discomfort. She moans in his mouth as he suckles her tongue. Good news, no sight of his phone. She could rest for at least five minutes without worrying about another wave. The throat clearing behind them quickly separates them.
”Oh okay, you guys can say it if we bother you.” At this time, she is more than happy for her melanated skin. If not, her cheeks would have turned red. Embarrassment added a different type of burn to her hot skin. On the other hand, Hugo is completely unbothered by the situation.
”To be honest, you do.” He jokes before the two of them laugh out loud.
”We’ll leave soon, after board games.”
Hugo rises his thumb in the air, agreeing with his friend. As soon as he leaves, she slaps his arm.
”Are you crazy? I’m not going to wait until they leave. Hugo, please.”
”Fine. Go upstairs. Bed. Wait for me. Open and ready, okay?” She eagerly nods, finding her way out of the kitchen before he changes his mind. As she climbs the stairs, she hears Hugo explaining that she needs some rest. The headache is really affecting her. He suggests they start playing UNO. He’ll join later.
In less than five minutes, she is lying naked on their shared bed. Patiently waiting for him to calm those tingles between her legs. Just when she thought her torments would come to an end, she felt the egg vibrating against her spot and walls. Her back arches while she grips the sheet. The tip of the toy trembling against her clit. Her legs open up, knees toward the ceiling, as she takes every vibration. Tears decorated her eyes when Hugo stepped in, phone in his hands.
”So beautiful.”
Her moans increase in volume as he manipulates the phone, sending more intense yet slower vibrations. At this point, their friends could hear her. It did not matter. Hugo licks his lips at the sight of her juices decorating her thighs. Then everything stops. This time she cries, begging him to let her cum.
”I’ll do anything, please. I can’t hold it anymore. Please, my love.” He gently rubs the top of her braided head. His stare softened at the view of her tears.
”You’ve been good. You deserve. You didn’t take it off. Two hours? That's impressive… Good girl!” He kisses her forehand before touching his phone again. The second the vibrations start again, she closes her eyes, head thrown back as her body succumbs each movement. She is closer. This time nothing can stop her from reaching the peak she craved the entire time.
Hugo grabs her ankles, forcing her to stay still as the silicone toy pulses inside of her and on her clit. The new angle hitting directly the right spots. Tears rolling down her cheeks as she stares at him. He smirks, tapping his phone again. The sound of her slick pussy bouncing on the walls. His free hand fondling her breasts.
”Shit… It's..." She stops mid-sentence, completely blown away by the climax she had been waiting for so long. Body convulsing, legs trembling, walls contracting and clit throbbing, she almost passes out from pleasure. The scream she lets out probably alerted the entire house, but she could not care. Not when her body could not stop responding to those vibrations. She grips the sheet, bracing herself for another round.
"Love…Too…much…"
”Use your words if you want me to stop.” She barely has time to remember that word as ecstasy drags her away for the second time. Harder than the first time. The scream sticks in her throat as she squirts, ruining the sheets under them.
”Good girl. You deserve it all.” The toy is gently removed from her despite some resistance from her walls. She is left pulsing around nothing. Her vision was blurry, her mind dizzy by what just happened. Hugo has one more idea in his head.
”Love, it's…too much.”
”You know what to say for me to stop. You wanted to cum, no? So, mouth, fingers or dick?”
One more probably won’t kill her. After all, she spent her entire evening resisting. ”I want your mouth, please.”
He throws his phone somewhere on the bed. Before she can notice, her legs are placed on his shoulders. He kisses her inner thighs, leaving delicate kisses all over her skin." T’es à moi.” She heard that too many times. Mine.
”Yours, love. Yes.”
That first wet lick on her folds almost sends her to the point of no return. At this point, anything could make her come. That overstimulation is biting her in the ass.
”So good.”
He licks, sucks, and flicks his tongue against her sensitive clit. His entire mouth feasting on her as if the previous orgasm meant nothing. Although she could not fully check, her pussy is probably clean. Completely cleared from any juices as his greedy mouth slurps it all. Her back arches again, her legs starting to tremble as she pulls on his blonde curls. He keeps going, unbothered by the slight pain or uncontrollable moans. His name repeatedly falls on her lips as she rides her third orgasm of the night. Her pussy crazily throbbing as he keeps eating her out.
”Please, stop. Hugo! I’m too sensitive, baby.”
He finally listens and stops, not before giving her one more lick, making sure she is clean. She collects her breath, her eyes facing the ceiling as she recovers from the intensity of her peaks. Hugo wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. She reaches for his face, capturing his lips, kissing him, licking his lips to taste herself.
”So fucking nasty, bébé.”
”Just like you… Damn, it was so intense.”
"See, I told you… It was worth it.” He leans again, stealing one more kiss from her. The knocks on the door both make them jump.
”Is everything alright in there?”
She responds before he gets the chance to, ”Yeah, I feel better. We’ll be there in five minutes.” They both giggle after hearing footsteps.
”Thought you were too exhausted.”
She jokes, ”Never too tired to teach you a lesson at UNO.” The clothes that were on the floor found her skin again as she arranged her hair and makeup. Their friends did not have to know what they had really been up to. Hugo smacks her ass as they make their way back into the living room.
”Behave!”
The grins on their faces spoke louder than any words could. When she sat back down next to Jana, the young woman leaned in. ”Headache, ugh? Y'all nasty.”
”I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She winks with a grin.
****
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‘An act of both freedom and surrender…’ ✨
Affairs Of The Heart: A Désiré Doué x Original Character Erotic Series.
ONE SHOT : SWEET TEMPTRESS
PAIRING : Virgil van Dijk x Black reader
Summary : In a normal world, she should feel bad for being a side chick but she is too selfish and greedy for that. WC : 6.9K
Warnings (+18) : infidelity, toxicity, angst, jealousy, SMUT (overstimulation, fingering, oral sex, slight degradation, p in v...) Both characters have little to no morals, reader is lowkey a bitch. Anyway morality police this one isn't for you.
A/N : I'm trying to come back from a writer block so it's not probably not my best piece of work but I have to write until I get back there. (haven't cringed that hard for a moment). This one been sitting in the drafts for months because I just couldn't write smut. I hope you enjoy it anyway. Lover girls, promise I will write some for yall too 😅
Writing takes a lot of time, if you enjoyed, please reblog, comment and interact. Don't be shy. That's why the anon button exists. English is not my first language.
The cotton scent of her diffuser brings her a sense of peace before bedtime. The bedroom is dark. Only the lights of the city save her from complete darkness. Most people are certainly surfing through dreamland. Yet there she is, scrolling through both of her Instagram accounts: brand and personal. Each detail is scrutinised to improve the next posts and find new ideas to boost her page.
She should probably be asleep, but creativity knows no schedule. The small journal on her nightstand absorbs the pressure of her pen. Ideas, lingerie designs, photoshoot themes, anything crossing her mind.
Everything seemed fine until her explorer page suggested him. The married man she found herself messing around with. Despite the poor terms of their relationship, she clicks on the post. Without even looking, she can tell he posted for her. The man who values privacy and mystery is not posting for PR reasons.
Her fingers particularly stop at that picture. The kind of pictures that would certainly make his fans raise an eyebrow. Virgil, hair down, shirtless and rocking a white towel.
She rolls her eyes out of annoyance. Not because his face and body are unpleasing to watch. Simply because she recognises his gimmick. Virgil knows what he is doing. At least for her, things were clear. The general public might be naive to his new interest in posting on social media. She is not. The circle never stops. Argue, silent treatment and attention bait. Unfortunately for Virgil, she is hardly impressed.
"Look at this man. He really thinks he's slick like that."
Although she has no tangible proof, it is easy to guess with whom he spent his weekend: the woman who shares his daily life, wears the ring and raises his children. The one he could not stop mentioning in his interviews, portraying himself as a loving, devoted husband. This entire circus never fails to make her laugh.
People are right. Nobody is more single than a married man. To this day, she remembers how he came to their first date with his wedding ring shining on his finger. The audacity, she thought. At this point, men can no longer surprise her coming from men. Past a certain age, naivety becomes a choice.
Her modelling career and years in the lingerie industry taught her that men know no limits. Virgil is not the first or last married man courting her. Contrary to many of his peers, she finds him attractive and interesting enough to be kept around. Months passed by and he finds himself on her roster without knowing.
No, she is not an escort, just a young woman using her privileges to push her business further. Sometimes, morals have to sit to the side to achieve dreams and goals. Out of all the five men, Virgil is in number one position. He might not be richer than the real estate business man she met months ago in Dubai, but his attractiveness, authenticity and generosity raise the bar.
Everything went perfectly well until Virgil found out about Melvin, network daddy. From there, all hell went loose. Droplets of toxicity started to drip onto their relationship. Her lack of jealousy clearly triggering something in him. Why be jealous of a man who is not hers? Nonsense. Virgil may have some of her time, attention and pussy, but that heart is untouchable. She is married to money and success. As she closes the app, a text message pops on her screen.
"Are you going to respond to me?"
A grin distorts her face before she activates flight mode and puts her phone to the side. No more attention until he makes it up for his lies.
****
Lace samples decorate her coffee table. Her new collection is a success, but in business there is no time to cheer. One collection launches. Time to work on the next one. Creating and imagining new lingerie lines always brings her back to life. Back to her teenage self who loved playing with her mother's silk kimonos. Back to the naive and innocent version of her.
It’s been two days. Virgil kept blasting her phone nonstop. A tango between sweet and sharp words. Silence is not what drives him crazy. Not knowing what she is up to with whom is what set him off. The lack of access eats him up. With a loud sigh, she finally answers the phone. His deep, calm tone immediately sparked her desire. Lust she has to tame in order to get what she wants: additional cash for her new collection.
”Finally, it’s about that time.” She stays quiet, adding to the tension. ”Halo?”
”Yes, I’m here, Virgil. I can hear you.”
She recognises the PR-controlled voice. Anger floats over his deep timber. The man is mad but tries to contain himself. ”So you’re not going to say anything?”
”What do you want me to say, Virgil?”
”I don’t know…Maybe explain why you ignored me for days.”
Another sigh leaves her mouth. The storm is right around the corner. Usually, she would rub it, not today. Ego can stay to the side. She has bigger goals and plans in mind. The sooner she gets her money, the better. Her voice softens when she responds, "I thought you were mad at me.”
”Don’t give me that voice. What you’ve done has nothing innocent.” Her eyes immediately roll at his rebuttal. Yes, she has pushed his buttons. Does she care? No. Money is important, but it could never buy her character, silence or passivity.
”What do you want from me then? If you plan to scold me, be quick, please. I have a collection to work on. My time is precious.”
This time, he loses a bit of control. His tone gets firmer. ”Drop the attitude. You know you’re in the wrong here.”
”Hum. I disagree. I did that for a reason. If you can’t understand, then that’s on you, Virgil.”
”What I don’t understand is why you were ignoring me. If you thought I was mad, why not reach out? The only reason I see is that you wanted to start a fight to peacefully spend more time with Network Daddy."
She cannot help but scoff. Jealous Virgil will always warm her chest, not with desire but pride. No matter how hard he pretends, he cares. The man who looked so unattainable for fans and media, worrying about her whereabouts. It almost sounds comical.
”At least Network Daddy isn’t a liar who cannot hold his promise.” This one will hurt, she knows. That is the exact goal. A heavy silence settles between them before he lowers his voice, a clear sign of frustration.
”If he’s all of that, why are you keeping me around then?”
”Might not keep you around for too long if you lie to my face again.” This time, she is not soft. Her tone is sharp, meant to cut deep.
”Let’s discuss it around dinner.”
”What dinner?”
”Your favourite. Japanese. Usual spot. I’m free on Wednesday night.”
”Fine. Time and place. Send a text.”
The small beep signals the end of the call. No goodbye, no extra words. Unless they reconcile, distance and quietness are on the table.
****
The Louboutins on her feet extend her legs as she walks in the private room with her usual grace and sex appeal. She notices him lick his lips. That black silk and lace dress will never fail her. She cleans her throat when she notices his lack of mannerism. Usually, he always gets up to meet her and pull the chair for her. When their eyes met, she could read the anger and frustration behind his eyes. Despite that, he stands up and does what she expects.
The sarcasm in her tone tenses him. ”Better.”
”I’m not here to play.”
”Neither am I, Virgil.”
”You cannot give me the silent treatment every time we have an issue. This is not how adults communicate.”
”I communicate how I feel like. The only reason why I stayed quiet is because I didn’t want to say something I might regret.”
”Okay, now that you’re calmer, tell me. What’s the problem?”
”Why did you lie about your plans? You think I fucking care about your little husband and wife getaway. I don’t give a single fuck. You should’ve been honest. Period. What are you afraid of? I jumped in knowing you were married with kids. Don’t piss me off.”
”Really? Is that the reason why you almost put us on blast? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you realise what you did? You sent me a sexy photo with an "I miss you” text. She was right next to me.”
”Good. That was the purpose. If you had told me the truth, I’d never have sent those.” The white wine flows down her throat as she fails to repress a grin.
”So you confirm you did that on purpose?” The tension rises when a giggle slips from her lips. From the outside, the situation has nothing funny. Her point of view changes it all. The images of a stressing Virgil, holding onto his phone with sweaty palms as if his life depended on it, are comical to her. The man who never cracks under pressure, worrying over a picture.
”It’s not funny. I care about my family.”
”You don’t seem to care much when you’re in that pussy.” His fist clenches following the rhythm of his jaw. Virgil closes his eyes, a mechanism to control his growing anger. Although he is the more difficult to read on the roster, she still manages to recognise certain patterns.
He whispers in the firmest tone she has ever heard from him. ”Don’t you ever think, you’re above my family.”
”Good because that would mean you’re an absolute loser. Your family should always come first.”
The response destabilises him. She can sense it. Rule #1: Never be predictable around these men. The warm smile on her face only adds up to his confusion. Grinning to hide a deeper emotion became her profession in elementary school. She never stopped ever since. Even if her pride will never admit it out loud, Virgil holds a special spot in her heart. Love is not the word because one of her main principles is, 'As long as there is money to be made, there is no need to fall in love.
”Yet, you’re out there trying to break it.”
”I’m afraid you're already doing an amazing job on your own. You don’t need me.” This time, no smirk, pure bluntness. Maybe a bit too much.
”Are you going to have an attitude all night long?”
”Depends on my interlocutor. Are you going to be mad all night long?”
He barely responds, his slightly dilated brown pupils focusing on the menu rather than her. Anger and frustration are pouring through every pore of his body. Time to remove her foot from the pedal for a moment. The safest way to make it to her final destination: thousands of pounds to work on her next collection. She gently reaches out for his hand. The contact brings up that undeniable electricity between the two. The type, a married man should not have with someone other than a wife.
”Come on, Big Virg… You know you can’t be mad at your Schat. We already spend little time together.” He resists but not for long. The tone of her voice is too seductive for that. At that moment she knows exactly what to do to get her additional money.
****
Virgil gently rubs her naked back as she shares her excitement about her success, the pressure of what's to come and, most important, her next collection. Her head rests on his torso as he attentively listens to her. Blatantly drawn to her puppy eyes. The same eyes she used earlier while she was using her mouth on him. The same stare as he rocked his hips against hers right after eating her out like a starved man.
”I want more silk, but I feel like I’m going to be tight on funds.”
”How much you need?” The exact sentence she needed to hear.
”I’m open.”
“Stop playing these games, schat. Tell me.”
She falsely pouts, ”I don’t like asking for money, Big Virg. You know it.”
”Schat, I hate these mind games. Give me a number.”
”Hum…30K… I know it’s a lot, but it’s important for me… If we make a profit, I’ll pay you back.”
”No need to pay me back. I’ll figure it out.”
”Thank you so much, Big Virg. You’re really amazing when you want to.”
”I’ll ignore the last sentence.” He checks the luxury watch on his wrist. ”I have to go. I don’t want her to question me.
She groans out of frustration, ”Can’t you stay a few hours? " All of that is a part of her act. He should never feel underappreciated. It is the only way to get what she wants. His money combined with other guys from the roster should be more than enough.
”I wish but impossible, schat. I’ll call you, okay?” She nods with a similar pout on her face.
****
London Fashion Week. The ultimate dream for many designers, content creators, fashion lovers and even clout chasers. One of the worst weeks of her calendar. Smiling, small chats no one really cares about, and fake laughing at jokes that actually get on her latest nerve. Networking, as they call it. An exercise she dreams of escaping. Creating, planning, and strategising are her real motors. The rest fall under the category of courtesy. What won't she do for the money and prosperity?
Each year when she thinks the universe has decided to preserve her, an invitation from a brand or some business man who wanted to get in her good books popped out of nowhere. The royal blue satin dress is the highlight of her night. If she had to act, at least she would do it with style. The diamond jewellery adorning her brown skin catches more than one eye. Two in one: network and promote.
The night goes normally until she feels a very familiar presence. The one she always hoped to avoid during a professional event. The flute of champagne in her left hand would scream if it could. She grips it so hard the glass could break at any moment.
Although her body is on the edge of eruption, she remains composed. Never in her life had desire so violently attacked the pit of her stomach. All she wants is to grab his hand, run away with him and let him play with her body like a piano producing a perfect symphony.
From the corner of her eye, she spots him in his blue shirt and black pants. He looks good as he always does. Her grip tightens when she sees her. The woman her mind banished. The one who shared his life, his bed and sorrows. She seems shy, almost intimated by her surroundings. They are holding hands. How cute if her husband were not a cheater. A grin lightly makes its way onto her face. She should feel bad for her. An ounce of remorse, but she does not. Nor does she envy her spot. Marriage is not on her agenda. Never been. Freedom is so sweet, it becomes addictive.
With her usual confidence, she stops her conversation to walk to the couple.
”Oh, Virgil. What a surprise! It’s good to see you here.” She introduces herself, full name. He gulps, giving her a stare she will not forget anytime soon. Still not enough to wipe that smirk off her face. If eyes could kill, she would probably be dead. Thankfully, the brunette does not notice his antic. From her reaction, she can tell the woman knows her. Not on a personal level, simply what she sees in public.
”Have we met before?” The response is sharp, distant and cold. She is surprised, but composure is her second name.
Backstage concert. Asake, if I’m not mistaken.” Another speciality, invent, lies from the scratch within seconds. A necessary skill for the unforgiving art of negotiations in business.
”Don’t remember, sorry.” No emotions on his face. No discreet signs of affection, nothing. For a mere second, she feels like those football fans waiting for hours for their faves only to be ignored or barely acknowledged.
No worries, the woman is resourceful. She turns to the wife, not giving him additional attention. ”Virgil is such a lovely man. You must be proud to have him as a husband. He talks about you and the little family every time.”
She seems shy. Her posture is not the most confident, but the smile on her face and her reddened cheeks speak for her.
”Oh…yeah, he’s amazing. Great dad too.”
”Hum…Miss… What’s the name again?” That question is a clear provocation, but she simply grins in response before repeating her full name. Virgil nods nonchalantly. In honesty, she is impressed by his acting skills. The man should make it his next career. Nothing gives way to their current situation. The man may have won the battle, but she will never let him win the war.
He adds like a slap in the face, ”Lingerie business, inspiring… We’ll try to order a few items even if I prefer Agent Provocateur." The half grin almost pushed her out of character. Virgil crossed a red line. Belittling the business she has sacrificed so much for, one he has invested in, is a silent war declaration.
'Fuck you, little bastard,' she mutters under her breath. After a rapid apology and a polite smile, she leaves the couple behind. The high heels on her feet barely stopping her from taking big steps. The further, the better. Two could play dirty, and unfortunately for Virgil, she plays dirtiest.
She comes back to them with a magazine in hand. ”Here is my last cover for Sports Illustrated. I’m wearing my own swimsuit collection. My very first one. You should try.” She takes a breath before offering, ”Actually, it would be an honour to gift you the set of your choice. I know you’d look amazing in it.”
Why not have fun while promoting her business? The blue-eyed brunette thanks her with a thick Dutch accent. The small spark in her eyes showing clear interest in some bikinis. She breaks the ice by offering additional information on each piece, starting a small conversation between them. Purposefully taking more time on pictures of her in a bikini. The type her husband loves receiving here and there. From the corner of her eyes, she observes him.
Virgil gulps at the sight of her body in bikinis and a bathing suit. The one with the red triangle bikini makes him rub his goatee. ”I love me some red.” The small voice inflection is unnoticeable to most. Not him. He knows how that flirty tone sounds. She notices the clench of his jaw and the open death stares.
****
Networking, aka the nightmare for most introverts. And she happens to be one of them. After interacting with more people than she can count, her energy is on the floor. All she dreams of is a restful night of sleep. Not without sending audios to curse Virgil out. At the sight of her reflection in the mirror, she breathes out loud. One more hour to go before she can find the comfort of her apartment. The door slams. No need to watch, she knows who is it. His pace is determined and passive-aggressive.
”What the fuck is wrong with you? What was that?”
Her eyes stay focused on her own image, completely ignoring him. ”Nothing special, just wanted to remind you that I’m not to be played, Virgil.”
”Nobody is playing here. I did what was necessary to avoid suspicions.” Each syllable sounds harsher than intended. Anger boils down his throat. ”Never pull such a stunt, or I’ll cut you off for good.”
She laughs out loud, her eyes wide open. Men and their audacity. ”Do it. The fuck you think you are?”
”You have a lot of mouth for someone who’s been lying to my face too. I know about other guys.” The complaint takes her by surprise. He still hasn't digested the news about network daddy. Either way, she could not care less.
Her tone is almost mocking. ”So what? Am I supposed to sit there while you’re at home with your wife? You lost your damn mind. What you see in me, other men see the same or even more.”
”Lower your voice!” An order. No need to shout; his firm tone is biting enough. Still not sufficient to make her fold.
Her voice is almost a whisper, an open challenge. ”Or what, Virgil? What are you going to do?”
”Keep trying me and you’ll see.”
”I don’t know what I’ll see, but I know what to do. I’ll go to your wife and tell her how you fucked me nice and slow two nights ago, then hard and fast the second round.” She barely has time to fully finish her sentence before Virgil securely grips her chin.
”I fucking dare you! I’ll let the entire world know how you seduce men for money.”
Another giggle slips from her lips. ”Don’t make me laugh, Virgil. If it were for money, I’d aim higher. You might be rich but not that rich.”
One step and he drastically reduces space between their bodies. She feels trapped but remains stoic. The same provocative half-smile plastered on her face while his fingers tighten around her chin.
”Big Boss has half a billion dollars of net worth, and a billionaire is currently courting me. So if it were for the money, I would have left you behind months ago. The only reason why you’re still around is because you’re the best to look at.”
His fingers gently press, distorting the thin frontier between pain and pleasure. ”Are you fucking them too?” Of course, she is not. The rest will have to deal with the hope of seeing their fantasy come true one day. Which will never happen even if said fantasies are nurtured by her manipulative games. Fucking him was already a mistake, but at least he was attractive, young and fit.
”I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”
He chuckles bitterly, ”So being a model and business model isn’t enough now? You need to be an escort too? I’m very disappointed.” Ego bruised. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be trying that hard to get at her.
”That makes the two of us.” She pauses. ”Really? Ridicule me in front of your wife when you’re lying to her to come to me. You’re a fucking loser.”
”One loser you’re fucking… Listen, you tried to fuck me up so I retaliated. Stop being in your feelings.”
”I have no feelings when it comes to you, Virgil. You’re just an investor for me.” At that moment, she knows there is no coming back. She might have pushed his buttons a bit too far. His eyes darken, bluntly staring at hers. His nostrils lightly dilating at each breath.
”Oh, really? Are you sure?” She nods with full confidence.
”Let’s see then. You know the safe word.”
Goosebumps paint her skin as she hears that murmur. Her body is ready. For the longest, she wanted to see that side of him. The one that let it go. The one that does not hold back. Without wasting another breath, his hand finds its way under her dress. Her lips part when she feels him palm her ass. He notices. The traits distorted by anger turn into a smirk. She should try to fight it, show him that he does not have that kind of effect on her. Unfortunately her body is too far gone for that. Too obeying and bending to his touch. She gasps when he rubs her clothed clit, her chin trying to break free in the process.
”Of course, it’s for money… That mouth may lie, but that pussy isn’t. For the money, but you’re out there ready to get fucked in a five-star public bathroom, hm?”
A miserable attempt to push him. No strength, no determination. She wants more than a few caresses over her thong. ”Let me go. You fucking cheater.”
”Oh, no, please. You’re no better than me, Schat. You’re sleeping with a married man. If magazines ever find out, what do you think will happen?”
This time she smacks his forearm. Still no success. ”Don’t you fucking dare.”
Instead, she gets his fingers on her cheeks, applying gentle pressure to force attention. ”You’re mine. Do you hear me? If I ever hear about other men, I’ll make a call you will never forget. Got it?”
No, she will not let him intimidate her. She knows better.”Me too. I’ll make a special call so your wife can divorce and take everything from you, fucking cheat. Fucking move out of my way!”
”You better stop screaming!”
“Or what? The fuck you gon do? Go to your wife and cry about it.” She laughs hysterically with no care about her surroundings or any potential arrival.
”You’re not going to be laughing when I’m done with you.” Virgil hastily leads them into a cabinet, his hands still on her cheeks. The door is aggressively locked behind them. "Why do you always have to act like a fucking brat?”
"Because you can't always act like a man.” His anger should not arouse her, but it does. Anger combined with the thrill of getting caught is the cocktail that really gets her going.
"Is that a game for you? I'm not playing around with my marriage. You ruin it, I'll ruin your life. As simple as that.” Stuck between him and the cold marble wall, there is no escape. She has to live up to her audacity.
"You don't need me. You're already doing a pretty good job yourself." His jaw clenches harder. The hold is firm. His fingers are steadily sitting on her jaw.
"Say that again."
"You heard what I said. If not, I'm pretty sure you can afford cottonballs." He slowly leans in, adding slight pressure.
"Keep pushing my buttons and..."
"And what? The fuck you gon do?” She pronounces the triggering question. Exactly what he needs to hear to give her what she wants.
"Remind you who the fuck you're talking to."
"And how you're going to - " Words get stuck in her throat as Virgil steadily captures her lips. The kiss only added fuel to a burning fire at the pit of her stomach. It’s a silent battle and a clear confession of their weakness. She places her hands right on his man bun, closing any existing space between them.
”I’m going to teach you a lesson.” His eyes are narrower, darker than usual. The way he grips her thigh is firm. Still not distracting enough not to feel the burn of her thong being removed.
"Yeah, give them other guys easy access.” His fingers dig into her cheeks, forcing her to look at him.
"Say that again and I'll ruin you here so no one else can touch you."
"Ruin me."
Something switches in his eyes. They switch on like an interruptor. Lust takes over as he firmly rests his palm on her cheek.
"Mouth open."
Like a snake under the spell of a flute, she obeys. He sucks on her tongue before intertwining them. The small moans bounce against the wall. She needs him more than she ever desired. Her juices coat her thighs as he massages her breasts. His warm palm firmly squeezes and grabs her.
"Virg..." she probably sounds desperate, but she doesn't care.
"I don't have much time. Let's get straight to the point."
He gently pushes his fingers in her mouth. The warmth of her saliva covering his fingers as he pushes further and further until he hears that choking sound he loves so much.
"What's going on? We can't speak?" Her response is muffled by his fingers.
"I should punish you for acting like a brat."
He pulls his fingers out to admire the saliva decorating her chin. Their eyes meet, and before she realises, his fingers are teasing her clit. Gently playing with the tip of his fingers. He already feels her hips bucking against his fingers, feverishly looking for friction.
"Look at you...So wet...So desperate. It's almost pitiful."
Under any other circumstances she would have responded. Harder to do so when her clit is being teased that way. The small moans coming from her mouth bounce against the wall.
"You better stay quiet. I don't want to hear you."
Her juices making the most sinful noises, coating his fingers and wrist. The bastard knows exactly how to reach that spongy spot inside of her.
"Are you not ashamed? Getting fingered in the bathroom by a married man."
"Of course, you don't care. You enjoy it way too much. I bet the thrill of getting caught makes you wet. You're bad. Very bad, Schatje."
She ignores his comment. Too busy rocking her hips against his fingers. He notices and pulls them out.
"Suck on them."
No need to ask her twice. She willingly complies, covering his fingers with saliva as he enjoys the small gags. His coated fingers travel all the way south until they find her swollen clit again.
"It's sensitive...Please, Virg."
He does not seem to care. She grabs his wrist, silently begging him to stop before she screams and alerts the entire building.
"Move your hand or you're not going to like it."
What she craved from the minute she saw him was right around. She can feel her walls gripping his fingers, the tingles in her core intensifying.
"There you are. Feel how you clench. This is what you wanted, hm? Such a good slut." He knows what to say to push her over. Then nothing. Everything stops.
"You really thought I'd let you cum when you act like a brat?"
She reopens her eyes, clear annoyance twisting her features. "Fine. I'd do anything but please I need to... I have to. I can't go back to the party like that.”
”Yes, you will. That's what you deserve. Nothing else."
"Big Virg. Please."
"My wife is waiting for me. I have to leave."
The call back to reality enrages her. When she is that horny and overstimulated, that lady is the least of her worries.
"Too bad I don't give a fuck." She places herself on the wooden door, blocking him from exiting the toilets. He licks his fingers clean before refocusing on her.
"I'm not playing this game. Move."
"Fine. If I move, I'll find somebody else to finish the work. Someone capable of –"
He immediately pushes back on the wall, his hand back on her chin, forcing their eyes to connect. "You know damn well none of these guys can fuck you like I do. That's why you always come back to me."
"Whatever makes you feel better at night."
The small, sharp silence heightens the tension between them. ”So you lied to me? You're fucking other guys."
She grins.
"Stop playing. Are you fucking other guys? Yes or no?"
"How is that your problem? You’re safe. We’re wearing condoms anyway.” From the corner of her eyes, she notices his free fist clenching. He is fuming.
"That's not the fucking point."
”Still none of your fucking business."
"I'm a bit surprised tho." She raises her eyebrow, showing concern. "That pussy is greedy. You can never get enough then."
"Now excuse me, time to find the man able to satisfy me."
He put a hand on the door, blocking her from opening it.
"No, you're not. If you want that orgasm, you have to work for it.”
She crosses her arms, feigning resistance. ”Better be quick. I have to go back soon.” He is serious. She can tell by the neutral tone he usually uses. Virgil closes his eyes, clearly losing patience.
'Get on your knees now. Tongue out." The tension between them rises again, causing her to giggle.
"I'm not repeating again."
"You need to relax, Virg."
”I will, don’t worry.” The promise of something she enjoys. Pleasing him. Seeing him lose the control he loves having so much. The tingles in her core violently come back. Her nipples harden at the sound of his belt unbuckling. She barely has time to notice the paper he throws on the floor before she comfortably sits.
"Don't you dare closing your legs to get friction or use your fingers."
He grabs her hair firmly enough to keep her in place without messing up her hair. No need for additional instruction. She opens her mouth, tongue fully out, as he likes. They've been there before, she knows exactly what to do. He leans forward, spitting on her tongue, making him gasp as she swallows. The smirk on her face annoys him even more.
"Put that mouth to good use."
She suckles on the tip like a lollipop. Her tongue playing with his slit. The taste of precum leaving her craving for more. The movements of her tongue are slow, teasing, leaving him in agony.
"If you don't want me to take the lead, stop fucking playing."
Her gaze is challenging. ”Take the lead. You think I'm scared?"
Without adding another word, he tightens his grip on her hair before pushing himself in her warm mouth. Soon the room is filled with slurping, small gags and controlled groans. Drool is shining on her chin, chest and decorating the floor, but none of them seem to care. Her eyes close to fight some gag reflex.
"Eyes open! Want to see how I ruin that face."
He pushes further, slowly making his way to the back of her contracting throat.
She taps on his thighs, forcing him to pull out. "My makeup."
"Don't act like you care now."
He slips between her lips again. Her eyes red and wet because of him. She moans around him as she feels the damp between her inner legs. He goes slow, pushing himself further each time. She slightly gags again.
"We trained that throat. Do better. If you want to cum, fucking do better. Hear me?"
She moans around him, his head resting on the wall as he savours each second inside of her mouth. The sight of him clenching his free hand incites her to go steady on him. Suddenly, putting her bratty act on pause. After all, she needs him down there. If desire could really consume, she would probably turn in ashes. His eyes plunge into his when she slaps his tip on her tongue.
"Behave."
She smiles before putting her mouth back to work as he loves. Sloppy and nasty. Eyes on eyes as she hallows her cheeks to take more of him. Her free hand plays with his balls before resting on his abs. Feeling his muscles contracting against her palm will never get old.
He bites his bottom lip, refraining any groans or moans from slipping away. Only his heavy breathing to accompany her gags and coughs.
"This is how you put a petty mouth to good use.Fuck." He moans before bucking his hips. She owes one to her makeup artist for always insisting on waterproof products.
"Take it. Breathe through your nose," he moans, bucking his hips faster.
"That's it. Stay there." Her throat constricts around his length, forcing her to close her eyes and control her gag reflex.
"I want to cum down there so bad, but you don't deserve.”
Spit falls down to the floor as she asks, "Why, Big Virg? I want to taste you.” Her voice hoarse from all the sucking.
”Want to cum inside.”
On any normal day, she would say no. Too risky. It is all fun and games until pregnancy comes knocking at the door. However, today is anything but normal. The logical side of her brain is turned off, completely asphyxiated by her burning desire.
"Hands on the wall, Schat.”
The contrast between her flaming body and the marble makes her jump. Even more when she feels her skin sting under the crack of his palm.
"Be quiet. Do you fucking hear me?" A whisper that leaves her gasping right before he licks the shell of her ear and rubs his tip on her clit.
”Please. I’ve been… I… I can’t.”
”Can’t speak? I’m not even inside yet.”
”Virg, please. Sorry for everything, but please, I need you.”
His fingers seize her chin, forcing her to stare at him. ”Don’t look away.” Hard to task when all she wants is to close her eyes. It feels good, maybe too good. He takes his time as if his wife is not waiting for him outside. The small moans flooding the narrow room. A testimony of her pleasure. The wet sound of her pussy is music to his ears.
"Sucking dick get you that wet? So fucking nasty.”
Another slap that makes her arch her back this time. He goes deeper, as deep as he can. ”Such a good pussy.”
She wants to scream but holds back. Her reputation and career are at risk if they ever get caught. Her bottom lip pays the price of her frustration. The sounds escape her mouth when his fingers travel all the way to her sensitive bud. Their skin clapping soon resound inside the small room. He is fucking her stupid, and she enjoys every part of it. Drool falling from her mouth each time he pushes against her hips.
"That pussy knows who it belongs to, uh?"
"Ain't that right, baby?" He spanks her.
"Use your words."
The overstimulation is killing her. "Yours."
"Sshh. People are coming." He slowed down, dragging that burning feeling in her lower belly. It's slow, deep and precise, perfectly rubbing against the spot that drives her crazy. Tears fill the corner of her eyes as she stares at him with pleading eyes.
"Already? It's been two minutes." The words die over her tongue as he places his palm over her mouth. The murmurs in her ear drive her crazier. A part of her wishes they were behind closed doors so she could scream and moan as she pleased.
"I'm going to come deep inside so you remember who that pussy belongs to."
"Virg! "It is nasty, walking around full of him while he parades with his partner… She should stop him, but she cannot. She is too far gone, too horny, too excited to be filled. He gritted his teeth, not enough to stop his groans. Their lips meet as he fills her spurts after spurts. Her body reacts, ready to let it go. Ready to get what it has been craving all night long. Until everything stops once again and she hears him buckling his belt.
”What the –" She wants to shout at him, but the ladies are still in the bathroom, somewhere behind their closed door. ”Big Virg, please. Don't leave me like that. I need you. Please. I'm sorry."
"You don't deserve it, sorry, Schat.” He kisses her sweaty forehead, prepared to leave the second the bathroom is empty. She barely has time to say anything before he is gone. The bastard leaves her there, high and dry. Her core wet, filled and burning from desire. She wants to scream in the stall, cursing him out with every vulgar word she knows. The two new ladies entering the room block her from doing so.
****
The ache between her legs is killing her. Desire is burning her skin. She needs him more than ever. Unfortunately, when money calls, you have to respond. At some point, she even forgot how she made it home without losing her mind.
Maybe she liked him a bit more than she pretended. Or she is simply extremely horny. At this point, she could not tell.
”Made it home safely, Schat?” The text infuriates her. How dare he when he left her behind like a vulgar, used paper? When he spent the rest of the evening, smiling at her squirming every five minutes.
”Don’t ever fucking reach out. You’re a bitch, Virgil.”
”Apparently that mouth hasn’t learnt… I don’t even feel bad. You’re behaving like a fucking brat. When you get your attitude right, I’ll help you.”
This time she will have the final word. With a rare determination, she grabs her pink vibrator, placing it right in front of the camera. Risqué for a woman like her, she knows. Yet nothing made sense at the moment. All she needs is an orgasm, nothing else. She presses the FaceTime button, knowing damn well who is right next to him.
”You’re back at it again? Be very careful, Schat.”
She ignores the text, her mind too busy to chase her peak. With extreme caution, she records her solo session. Her face is carefully hidden as she places the camera right in front of core. She makes sure to capture their juices combined and how loud she moaned and came.
”Don’t need you. My vibrator does wonders.” The phone rings and she chuckles. The cycle will never end. Not when they are both addicted to the silent game.
****
Please interact with your writers, very important.
Connected to England anyways since I visited the stadium before they did😔😔
Oh how i wish bts was performing for France it wasn’t supposed to be like this
One shot : Thigh ride
Pairing : Guela Doué x Black reader
Summary : Nothing special just wanted to write about dry humping
Warnings (+18) : mainly smut (dry humping, handjob) and a bit of fluff. WC : 2.3K
A/N: Hi girlies, I'm trying to get back to writing, here a small one shot for you. My hormones probably played a role in that mess, anyway enjoy. Let me know if you prefer longer or shorter stories.
Writing takes a lot of time, if you enjoyed, please reblog, comment and interact. Don't be shy. That's why the anon button exists. English is not my first language.
The pink clouds perfectly mix with the blue-purple sky, creating a landscape that belongs on a canvas. The light breeze chants in her ears. The night is coming. Her heart feels light as she observes the view before her. The horizon seems infinitely vague with its intimidating sea and mountain shadows. The sound of the waves contrasts with the usual city agitation. That taste of freedom and peace could become addictive. For a mere instant, she forgets about the ache between her legs. That particular sensation has been bothering her ever since they dropped their luggage in the luxury villa.
The silk of her Pucci dress rubbing against her skin drives her crazier. The floral and oud scent she loves so much adds to her silent desire. Suddenly the weight of his hands on her shoulders pulls her out of her thoughts.
”You good?”
She takes a deep breath before tilting her head to the side, plunging her eyes into his brown pupils. ”Yes, just enjoying the view.”
”Can I join?”
She rolls her eyes at him in a playful manner. Guéla chuckles before sitting next to her. Hand in hand, both of them admire nature’s wonders. The small rubs against her palm tickle her skin more than necessary. Conceivably, she went too hard on the strawberries. Maybe it is the champagne or a deadly cocktail of both. What a stupid idea to combine two aphrodisiacs at the same time.
”You’re inside of your head, chérie. I can tell. What’s on your mind?” Today hearing that French accent hits differently. It sparks something unfamiliar and pretty aggressive inside her.
”Hum… Nothing special. Just thinking how peaceful it is here. I could stay here forever.” Her mind interrupts, ”not when your pussy is purring.” She slaps her inner voice for distracting her from Guéla.
Her eyes wander from his fresh twists to his eyes. ”What did you say?”
”See? You’re not listening, you’re inside of your head.” She looks down, almost ashamed of something that is very natural and normal. Only recently she has interiorized that thought. Desire is a typical reaction, not a sin or sign of impurity. Without realizing, the grip around his hand tightened. She looks elsewhere, embarrassed while releasing his hand.
”What’s going on? Did I do something wrong?”
”No… It’s—.” She pauses for a second. ”It has nothing to do with you… I mean, partially.” He slightly furrows his eyebrows out of curiosity. Hiding or taming what has been growing for a few days is pointless. Six months ago, they became girlfriend and boyfriend. Guéla and she met through friends.
Although she immediately found him attractive, the athlete part threw her off. She was too inexperienced and scared to deal with such a profile. It was without considering Guéla’s determination. Action after action, week after week, month after month, he kept proving to her how serious he was about her heart. After a long thinking process and some reproaches from her best friend, she folded.
Romantically and emotionally, she folded. Physically, she wanted to but struggled to get there. For months, that tension had been building. The storm has been coming. Rejecting and taming desire became mission impossible. Especially when Guéla showers her with affection, attention, kindness, safety, and peace. The physique does not help either: muscular body, twists on his head, tattoos, big brown eyes, and a bright smile.
Sex has always been a sensitive topic for her. Growing up under a roof where any activity that did not serve the Lord was seen as pointless and scandalous deeply influenced her perspective. The moment she stepped into middle school, her mother lectured her about relationships and sex.
Forbidden, dirty, drives you away from God, guaranteed trip to hell, slutty—and a long list of adjectives that demonized the act. Although she never judged her friends for their sex or dating lives, the task was harder for her own desires. Each time she tried to pray it away, excoriating herself for lust. As time passed, she forged her own thoughts about the topic. Sex is natural, and so is desire. There is nothing wrong with it. Step by step, she rewired her brain into a new perspective.
”How is it my fault? I’m waiting,” he asks with a teasing grin.
She finally breathes out, ”I… I’m… I’m horny.” The following silence would have made her blush if her complexion were lighter. Suddenly, Guéla giggles. For a mere second, she regrets confessing to him. Maybe keeping her torments to herself was the best option. He immediately notices her discomfort and stops laughing.
”There’s nothing to be ashamed of, chérie.” He interlaced their fingers, his eyes trying to find hers. Looking at the view instead of him eased the exercise. He gently grabs her chin, plunging his eyes into hers.
”No pressure, okay?“Whatever you decide.” The soft inflection of his voice melts her heart. He genuinely cares. In those six months, he has always been patient and understanding.
“I’m horny... I want to... but I'm not quite ready yet."
"We don't have to do anything, you know? Whenever you're ready, okay?"
"You... you don't understand... it's... it hurts. I need to tone it down."
"Touch yourself maybe... or I can help if you want to."
"How?"
"I can lick you or use my fingers.”
She gulps, trying to push those images away. That feeling at the pit of her stomach intensifying the longer she looks at him. "Fuck. Guéla, you’re not helping. I want that, but I'm not ready to have your face between my legs."
"Have you ever touched yourself?"
Another triggering question. Another thought process she had to fight. Solo sessions often came with more than an orgasm for her. Shame and guilt often arrived uninvited to the party. Yet, the pleasure felt too addictive for her to stop. Only recently she has decided to give herself some grace.
"Hum… not really. Most of the time I grind on my pillow. I'm scared to put anything there. I tried once and it hurt. Sometimes I play with my clit, but that’s all.”
She notices his lips parting. As time passed, the weight of embarrassment vanished. She is talking to her boyfriend, not a relative. No one is coming to judge her or remind her that she is going to hell. Guéla is kind and attentive. She is safe.
"Do you want me to do it for you?"
The idea is very tempting. She almost says yes until his muscular thighs catch her attention. Now she has a different idea, something that would guarantee her comfort and pleasure.
"Actually… I have another idea in mind." She pauses, looking away. "I want... to ride your thighs." He wholeheartedly laughs, not in a mocking way simply to express his surprise.
"So you want to use me? You're nasty."
She shies away, suddenly too self-conscious of her request. "Don’t say it like that."
"I’m joking, chérie. Of course we can do it. Whatever feels good for you." The sun slowly sets as he repositions himself, making space for her to come onto his lap. With a subtle movement, he gently grabs her waist, sitting her down on his lap, both of her legs around one of his thighs.
"Want to take your panties off?"
She shakes her head a bit too hastily for her liking. "I like feeling the lace rubbing against my clit." Although her mother’s voice resonated at the back of her head, she shuts her up. She is a grown woman, not a teen anymore.
Her arms wrap around his neck as she comfortably settles on his thigh. She sucks on his bottom lip, her left hand gently resting against his cheek. Their eyes never drift away. At that moment, time almost stops. That stare never fails to get her.
His stare vocalizes more than words could. She is precious to him. The most beautiful in his eyes. Something she never experienced before. Guéla loses patience and captures her lip. The kiss starts romantically before turning into something that would make her parents blush. His hand lay on her ass, pushing her closer to him. They both got lost in the kiss, their shared love and desire speaking for them.
He whispers, "Is it okay if I suck on your tits?”
The response is simple. She lowers the strap of her dress, revealing her now hardened nipples. ”Think you’ve been neglecting them for too long.”
Contrary to the catastrophe scenarios she imagined inside of her head. Guéla reacts positively. His eyes glistening with lust as he gently grabs one of her boobs. A gasp slips from her as he massages one while his warm mouth wraps around one nipple.
Quickly the heat of her body feels suffocating. Her eyes closed, appreciating the movement of his tongue and mouth against her skin. The gasps soon turned into moans that would alert neighbours if they had some.
”You like it?”
Her voice sounds like nothing she heard before. ”Yes, please don’t stop.”
She throws her head back, getting lost in the pleasure her boobs are receiving. If it was the price to pay to go to hell, then maybe she is ready. The ticklish feeling in her stomach keeps growing. She needs more. The lace sticks to her core. Juices already coating his thigh. Never her solo session unlocked that door of pleasure. Her boobs are sensitive, almost too much for him to keep going.
”Please. Please. I need more.”
”Come, ride my thigh.”
His mouth frees her nipple before she readjusts herself, lowering her core on him. They both moan for different reasons. Him turned on by her wetness, her overwhelmed by the new sensations. Their eyes lock when she starts to grind on him.
Slowly and steadily, enjoying every second of it. Her bottom lip is trapped between teeth as she keeps rocking back and forth. The lace rubbing against her pussy only added up to the mix.
”That’s it, please yourself. You deserve it.”
Her moans are getting louder, matching the intensity of her pleasure. The wetness of her pussy spreads on his thigh and tattoo as she keeps grinding, maintaining her pussy pressed against his skin. The feeling of his intense stare on her only motivates her. She goes faster. Her arms tightening up around his neck. He leans forward, kissing her cheek before resting his forehead against her.
He murmurs, ”Show me how you come when you ride that pillow in your bedroom, chérie.”
This is too much for her. Every sensation or word almost pushes her over the point of no return. His hands firmly grab her hips, following her rhythm, adding pressure on her core. She throws her head back, grinding faster and harder on him, desperate to chase her high. The wet sound of her pussy turning her on. He massages her breast, his fingers lightly pinching her nipples.
She breathes out, ”It’s…there.”
"Yeah, cum all over my thigh, chérie. Use me."
"Fucking—"
Her moans become uncontrollable as she keeps grinding, clearly enjoying each second of it. She is used to clit throbs and trembling but not to that extent. Her entire body lightly convulses as she navigates her peak. For the first time, she is not questioning anything, she just rocks the wave.
”I’m here, it’s okay.” He tenderly whispers in her ear before pampering her with kisses.
”Shit. That was intense.”
”How do you feel?”
”Amazing. Just need to change my panties.” Her eyes wandered around, noticing the bump in his denim shorts. She is familiar with the scenario. In six months, more than once she felt his member hardening against her thigh or behind as they kissed. However, today she feels bold enough to do more than let him deal with it by himself.
"You're hard."
"I'll take care of it. Tonight is all about me.”
”If it’s all about me, then let me help you.” She murmurs, rubbing him through his shorts. ”Tell me what to do. Show me. I want to please you too.”
”Are you sure?”
”Yeah. 100%.”
He pecks her lips one time before raising his hips to lower his boxers and shorts. The sight of his member catches her attention.
”What do you want me to do?”
”We’re going to start slow.” Without further explanation, he grabs her hand, wrapping it around himself. ”Up and down, slow.” She follows his instructions, her eyes glued to him, capturing what he likes. Slow and steady. She lightly tightened her grip around him.
”I’ll do whatever you want. I’m yours.”
He bucks his hips in response. She observes, aroused by his reactions. The way he bites his lip, throws his eyes back and moans in French could make her cum again.
”Merde, a bit faster, chérie.”
She obeys, focusing on his reactions instead of his orders. Slow, steady, faster – she found the rhythm that had him crazily rocking his hips and moaning her name out loud. He finally twitches in her palm, groaning out loud until he finally reaches his peak. The warm liquid covering a part of her hand intrigued her. A part of her wants to taste. The other is begging her to behave. She has done enough for the day. He breathes out loud, collecting his thoughts.
”How do you feel, babe?”
”Better. You’ve been so good to me.” He pecks her lips.
”You too, I love you.”
”Love you more, chérie. Let’s clean up the mess we both made and order some dessert.”
She giggles, "Oh, you do know me!” One thing is sure: she will not last. Today was an entrée, and she wanted more. By the end of their vacation, she will get the full meal.
****
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How much it cost to create my own World Cup I just need France in it idc about no one else
i don’t want to see ANYBODY hate on jude bellingham now. he was incredible all tournament
when i said i want france vs england in final that’s not what i meant😐
The good thing is that Trent isn’t missing out
we’re not hungry for spain vs argentina in final
I’m more upset bts has to perform for these teams…. They don’t deserve my 7
Well I’m done with the World Cup
WHAT THE HELL

