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Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: you let it slip to your DEA flat-mate that you aren't as experienced. Javi thinks he can teach you a thing or two about pleasure, but is surprised to find you've got it all figured it out.

notes: for any of you that remember, I talked about a Javi x virgin reader roommate fic... almost 2 years ago. well. It has arrived. This may simultaneously be the best and worst fic I've ever written.

Warnings: virgin!reader, experienced just not penetrated, toys, masturbation, assisted masturbation, vaginal fingering, mentions of anal, voyuer, oral f! receiving, getting caught, possessive and jealous Javi, multiple orgasms, prostitution, many partners, preconceived judgement for virgins

18+ ONLY

- - - -

“Fuck-ahhh—Javier!” the woman cries in the other room.

A few thumps against the wall tells you it must be good if they can’t keep the bed from shaking so hard and ramming it into the wall.

Meanwhile, you’re brushing the excess clippings of toe nails from your sheets into the bin below. You were over due for a at-home spa moment since there weren’t exactly salons ready to take new customers around the block.

You hear the woman wail lowly, muffled by the plush surroundings of a pillow. A faint slapslapslaps making its way from below his closed door and into the entire apartment.

You study your feet. Tilting your head to the side trying to figure out if the big toe nail is lopsided or just needs a file.

Another lurch bangs against the wall, more violent than the previous. You hear a final drawn out moan before silence fills the entire apartment.

On second thought, your feet do look good. A solid solo-pedicure on the Saturday evening in Bogota. After cleaning out the gunk from under your toe nails, you’re ready for top coat.

-

Five months into living in Columbia and you’ve still only learned a handful of things from your DEA agent apartment roommate. He’s out most of the night, and the day, and really only is here to sleep every few 72 hours. On occasion, there’s someone attached to his hip, and extending to his hand and tongue and dick, but you only catch a glimpse of the beautiful women that come to be pleased by him and the raucous of sexual desires spewing out of his closed bedroom door. You rarely see the same woman twice.

You learn from others around the bars, native and foreign alike, that he’s infamous for having thralls of like-minded women at his drove. Whether they are paid, supposed to be paid but get lost in the excitement of it all, or just seeking a good time, everyone wants a taste of Javier Peña.

Your situation? Mr-last-boyfriend, talking of marriage and kids before you even had really gotten physically intimate, wanted to have your first time be via anal since he hadn’t done that before. You immediately ran out of there—ran all the way to another country, actually.

Nope: you’re super content where you are right now. No men. No sex. No problems.

Maybe a little perturbed by your seemingly unbothered roommate, who walks out shirtless into the open floor, barefoot and unbuttoned jeans hardly pulled up to his waist. The woman is in slightly better shape, dress at least tugged up to one shoulder as she holds her shoes in one hand. He kisses her on the cheek with a shared grin before he’s closing the front door on her without another word.

You roll your eyes just in time for Javi to turn at you. His chest glistens with sweat along with the shine of the tips of his curls. He carries no sense of shame for the obvious activities that just happened behind his door, yet he doesn’t go out of his way to make any remark to show off either. You slam your door close and set off your light. Its 2 in the morning and past due for some silence. You’re quite content not knowing any additional information about this man—knowing it could only be worse than his reputation.

-

As fate would have it , avoiding Javier Peña forever draws to a quick end.

You turn the key in the ignition slot, silently praying as the engine sputters with not-too-good sounding hiccups. Unable to rev to life despite your kicks to the dash and kisses to the wheel in subsequent apology.

The average rainy seasons in Columbia wouldn’t compare to the amount of downpour that happens to be flooding the streets tonight. Stinging water firing down upon any unlucky civilian caught outside at this late hour.

You turn the key once more, but your car grants you no such mercy. Pathetic grinding showing no indication of life any time soon. Your head slams back against the worn leather headrest in defeat. “Fuck.”

You’ve got only two contacts in your phone book so far since living hear: the landlord’s line, who’s only available every other Thursday from 2-4, and your roommate’s, the one that you swore you wouldn’t ever need to call and nearly tore out and tossed his number away the second week you had moved in.

It’s only luck tonight that you had forgotten to do just that so many months ago.

“H-hello—Hola?” You speak with uncertainty. He speaks English, right?

“Who’s this?” His dark gruff voice speaks through the receiver. He sounds like he hasn’t gone to bed yet, though exhaustion still evident in his stone.

“Um—its—your flat mate—I’m sorry I wouldn’t normally call--I got your number from—well it doesn’t matter—I just—listen I was wondering if you could do a huge favor? Just this one time? I’ll owe you.”

-

Despite the heavy pour of rain and your breath fogging up the windows, you immediately recognize his dark Jeep pulling up along side your condemned car. He drapes his jacket over his head and runs towards you, his car lights on and blinking warningly in the storm.

You crack open your door, water and wind instantly slamming your body. “I’m sorry! It won’t—it won’t start!” You shout through the heavy fall of water.

“Forget it! Get in!” He offers his jacket over top you so that you can transition from your car to his passenger seat. Despite the gesture, neither of you make it in his car without completely being drenched head to toe.

When he finally closes the driver door, the two of you pant wiping your faces of the excess water that drips onto his seats and floor.

He doesn’t exactly seem angry to be here, though not quite pleased either.

“I’m…really sorry I disrupted your night—“

“Don’t bother. I needed a reason out. It was good timing.” He brushes his thumb over his stash. “Besides, you’re usually back by this hour so when you didn’t show… I’m glad I got your call. Glad you’re safe now.”

You hide the warmth in your face. It’s not sentimental, just genuine concern. If the police were to question someone of your last whereabouts, Javi would be the first one to ask. That’s all. You’re grateful for his thinking.

You simply nod. Neither of you say anything. Just sitting still looking ahead as the car stalls. The windshield wipers occasionally bat away the heavy water, only to immediately glaze over again.

Javi seems worn, frustrated. Something in his posture tells you he’s stressed about something else, maybe something that happened earlier in the night.

You take a breath in. “Home?”

He smiles and nods. “Seatbelt.”

You buckle the clasp, though Javi just puts the car into gear and drives off without putting his own seatbelt on.

By the time the two of you are stumbling through the front door, having still been freshly wetted by the short walk from the car to the building, the two of you are giggling hysterically. Something about his partner’s car having broken down and the two of them getting wasted at a local inn, completely missing a delegates meeting the next day.

The apartment feels much warmer than before. Quiet now as droplets of water from your clothes pat against the floorboards.

“I should—probably let ya clean up. Get some sleep.”

You purse your lips. “I’m not that tired.” Grinning, you slip out of your heels and waltz over to the fridge, your wet footprints marking the creaky wood boards.

Javi shakes the water from his head like a wet dog. He raises his brows raise in curiosity when you flash 4 beers at him, a slight hunch in your stance. “Gonna join me?”

-

“You haven’t what?”

You tilt the bottle back and gulp the rest of it to the last drop. Its remnants swirling through your liver right now, though you don’t care as much as its effects soil your lazy brain.

This is the longest conversation you and Javi have had since meeting him.

“I just don’t see what the big deal is.” You shrug, leaning back against the couch. Your clothes were now brittle and wrinkled from the once drenching rain, hair regaining some life after resting in the warm apartment, hours after you two stumbled inside from his apparent rescue. “Sex. What’s the point if you are in pain, uncomfortable, and risking all kinds of shit for a guy to use you?”

Javi too was leaning against the small sofa chair across from you, his damp jacket splayed out on the back of the chair while the two of you drank to your hearts content. But your confession seemingly brought him out of a drunken stupor. His full undivided, and definitely unexpected, attention on you.

“It seems—fake. Women fake it.” You try to justify your totally valid reasoning best you can, but you don’t particularly care to indulge further. It never seemed like a big deal to you before. Why does everyone else care so much about your personal experiences?

He chuckles a bit, looking away and shaking his head.

“What? You think all the girls you bring here are moaning and screaming their head off because you’re battering them to death?”

“It’s not all battering. And trust me, Querida: it’s no fun if she’s not having fun too.”

That part was evident: you remember the scene earlier this week when Javi’s partner left on short notice, before either of them could clearly “finish”. The man came out of his room and escorted her out, a bit perturbed but understanding, and definitely unsatisfied. His shirt had been haphazardly thrown on, buttons mismatched and wrinkled, and the evident sweat of their activities still lingerings on his chest and back. He was frustrated too by the cut of their activities. He threw on his jacket and chucked a cigarette in his mouth before leaving for the night. Not returning until the late afternoon the next day. Whipped, drunk, and passed out on the couch.

But now, having such an explicit topic being opened up like the 12 bottles of empty beer on the table in front of you, you’re starting to see him in a different light.

He was—charming. Not as disarming as he appeared, always scowling and seemingly untouchable. Right now he seemed lax, approachable, easy to talk to. You could see the roughness in his eyes for the first time, and a sense of understanding as to why he keeps to himself, and relieves his unknown horrors through sex.

The alcohol in your system also made it slip that you might—still—just a bit—be a virgin.

"So you don't know what it's like? To be stretched by cock. Pounded until you’re tingling all over from pleasure, cumming with your eyes rolled back?"

You don’t even flinch at his bold words, too drunk to care. “I didn’t say that.”

-

Javi’s eyelids feel heavy. He’s unknowingly stolen glances at you each time you’re in the room, hell, even when you don’t realize he’s in the room with you. You seem so relaxed now, so open. This odd barrier you two had built around the other falling away now to reveal—people. Just people.

You take another open bottle on the coffee table and lean back with its head to your lips. Javi doesn’t blink as he watches your throat flex with each swallow, the way your breasts puff out of your shirt a bit, shining in the humidity of the quiet room, the low street lights from outside illuminating your soft features. He drags his thumb over his lower lip, entranced by this very new woman he’s meeting for the first time in front of him.

His cock in his pants had gone only half soft after Cara had left just shortly before you called. Seems one round was enough for her, but Javier felt frustrated he didn’t quite finish. Another failed bust, another stern lecture from his superiors, another woman lost in his bed that he couldn’t take his full fury out on. He needed a different distraction tonight.

And he had been avoiding the possibility of using you for a quick solution.

The conscious thought to stay away from a good roommate, to not ruin a stable living situation feels foggy, unclear in his mind right now. Ground rules he set the moment he learned your name and your move-in date were starting to feel less important.

But when you keep looking at him like that, he doesn’t know what it means. It’s the first time he doesn’t know what a woman is thinking through her eyes when they make contact with his. Were you just trying to throw him in for a loop? Too drunk to realize the meaning behind your faze? Confuse him with your virginity talk? It’s not like you “scream” virgin, and yes there are some women who do back in Texas. Maybe quiet, shy at first, but now opening up to him and probably more drunk than you realize, you radiate confident, you radiate control. Hunger and familiar, yet calm and centered.

Javi is a man for challenge. The phrase tumbles out of his mouth before he could filter himself. “Prove it then.”

It should have been the wrong words. The cheesy shit that men say to manipulate easy women in bed. You weren’t an easy woman, that much was clear. He’s ready for you to scoff him and go to bed without another word. Returning to a silent exchange indefinitely.

Maybe it’s just the amount of alcohol churning in your system that makes you so docile. Instead, you stand up and grasp his hand, leading him to your bedroom.

It confuses him. Javi’s slept with virgins before, and he prefers experienced whores. Virgins are delicate. They need tending. They need time. Calmness. Slow. Be able to stop on a dime at any given moment and not press for his pleasure. Normally he’d refuse, its been way too long since the last cherry he popped, but after fucking Cara earlier as hard and fast as he could and still not quite reaching the satisfying release, maybe he needed the kind of distraction that his full effort and focus.

When he comes to stand behind you, there’s very little intuition to stop his instinct. He lets his politeness go, seeking that relief that he couldn’t itch earlier with what’s-her-name—Cara. The desire for physical rawness that overcomes his senes. Like fire and ice licking along the inside of his empty mind. He’s calm now. Okay to take it slow, or fast, or rough, or however you want to lead. He wants a bit of structure tonight, just for a bit. To share some responsibility. Pour his attention in satisfying you so that maybe…he can satisfy himself.

His mustache tickles your shoulder as he plants a dry kiss on the skin, his hands creeping along your waist to unbutton your blouse—

“No.”

You pull away and face him.

He stops, panicked. His lips part, opening and closing like a puffer fish, but no words come out. He’s fucked up. Totally misread, misunderstood, like a fucking idiot—

But you don’t exactly seem angry, just more displeased.

“I’ll show you. But I’m not interested in being another one of your hook ups.”

He didn’t want you to think that, no of course not —! Though, as your words settling in his ears, it’s exactly what he would have done with you just now.

“I wouldn’t treat you badly, cariño.”

You smile. “I know. I just wanted to show you something.”

He stays where he is while you go to rustle in your bedside drawer. It’s the first time he’s been in here. Your room is more lived in than his, and you put care into organizing your belongings. Shoes tucked neatly under the dresser, bed made with a little throw pillow for decorate, a small shelf for assorted books. So unlike his room: barren, sheets unmade because the next time he would be home would be to crawl back in and pass out, or find a new lover, but void of personality. No kindness. No love.

He’s too engrossed in observing every inch of your room that he almost doesn’t notice the pink dildo you’re holding in your hand.

His eyes dilate. “No way, you use this?”

You both laugh, his a bit more friendly and incredulous but yours with a hint of shyness. The dildo is not considerably large, but certainly not small either. Its girth was just smaller than Javi’s own cock when hard, and maybe around 5.5 inches in length.

“How long did it take to—?”

“A few months. I don’t use it all the time. Just--some times it feels good… to stretch.” You’re struggling to find the words. The alcohol-induced confident-woman in the living room moments ago now starts to trickle away as you use such descriptions.

“A few months…”

Your eyes widen at the correlation. You’d been living in Bogota for a few months, yes, but more so, you’d also only been living with Javi Peña for a ‘few months’.

Javi felt … different.

“Not—not because— it was just new—new area and wanted to try—its not—“

“I’m only teasing you, hermosa.” He offers a warm smile, nothing sinister or suggestive. Even if your heart thumps erratically right now, while sharing something intimate with a man notorious for swindling women into bed, you don’t feel as intimidated by his soft brown eyes as before. Unlike so many men before, who were quick to either judge you, or ask if you wanted to hop in bed with them for a quickie to “change your mind”.

He clears his throat, and the moment breaks. It dawns on you that you’re holding your dildo that is most likely still covered in your dried slick, you pull away. Desperate to put some space between the tension building like compressed clay. He doesn’t touch you, only leans in to follow your face, forcing your eyes back on his. It’s personal, intimate, but not invasive.

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me anymore, sí? I… like you like this.”

You nod. “I...still want to show you…”

With a deep breath, you hesitantly part your legs. It’s not like a man hasn’t seen you naked—sort of. You’d been in this position, legs spread or tits out and sent headless polaroids to your touch-less flings before.

But this isn’t the same as propping a little camera up and taking as many print out photos as you want until you got one right then sending it off in the mail never to really think about it again.

Javi sits across the room in one of your desk chairs, watching closing as you spread yourself on the bed, your bottoms taken off and tossed to the ground a moment ago. His eyes bore into your naked soul on full display right now. You had never been exposed like this, watched so intently for any twitch in movement, from a man right across your room, living and breathing and in real time, in this moment.

You flinch because the dildo is cold. Javi stands up, grabs it with your own hand clasped around it, spits on it while holding contact, letting its warmth settle over your fingers. He guides you to pump it before letting you go.

“Take your time,” he coos, as if the subconscious pressure you’ve placed on yourself has seeped into the walls of the room that harbor the two of you. As if he didn’t just use his own spit to help you coat the toy you’re about to fuck yourself with. He settles back down to his spot.

There's something alluring about him. His attentive gaze, the way he swipes his tongue over his lower lip. Makes you wonder just how authentic all that talk is about the man when he's between your legs...

You avoid his strong gaze and instead focus on the sensation below: swirling the silicon object around your nub and teasing your folds, parting them gracefully. You were already wet. Drinking around handsome men who save you just has that effect on you, though whether or not that’s from the attention from Javi or the thrill of drunken masturbation, you didn’t want to conclude. Now having rubbed your messy clit for him minutes ago, your entrance twitches in anticipation to take something larger.

You glance up again. Javi is studying closely, conveniently leaned forward and blocking any perception of his crotch. Maybe it’s intentional. He doesn’t want to pressure you or hurt your ego by showing off whether or not he’s got a hard-on watching you.

You swallow your apprehension and push the dildo in more. Your generous slick and his spit providing the right amount of lubrication as a moan slips from your lips. You don’t stop, pushing it deeper and deeper, then pulling only slightly before thrusting all the way to the hilt. You let out a vibrated moan, lips curling deliciously.

Jesus, he whispers under his breath. He shifts uncomfortably in the chair, clearing his throat.

You smirk just a bit. He didn’t seem to expect that. Confidence soars through your body. You experimentally spread your legs wider, giving him full view of your inner thighs and core on full display as you continue to thrust in and out. The first few times the tip smashes against your g spot, stretching your tight ring feel euphoric. It always does. Your eyes go hazy, head falling back a little as you get lost in the sensation. It’s hard to focus on what exactly you’re doing, the lazy pumps in and out of your squelching heat making your body tingle with warmth.

What exactly were you trying to show him again?

You don’t know it, but Javi’s got blood in his mouth from his badly he’s been biting his tongue.

He remembers when he had sex with virgins in high school and while training in his 20s. They were always shy and timid, like you.

He expected you to struggle. Flinch. Maybe cry a little and force yourself. He doesn’t particularly prefer virgins because thats inevitably what it’s like. Instead, you slide it right in, one, two thrusts and the thick cock is buried to the hilt. The pretties moan he’s ever heard leaves your wicked lips. You slowly pull out and push it all the way in, balls deep, and each time the tip nudged your g spot perfectly, you smile, and its anything but pure and innocent. You know what you’re doing, canting your hips back and forth with each rock inside, shoving it deeper, as deep as you can get it, slick and messy inside that tight wet heat that he’s quickly becoming obsessed with.

You start masturbating with your dildo expertly, picking up pace so such little prep work. He's impressed, to say the least. You knew exactly how to slick yourself up, and it didn’t take any restrained stretching at all. Just two pumps and it fully parted your tiny hole. A sense of jealously fills his gut at how your pussy sucks the toy back in each time, perfectly tight yet clearly familiar enough with your walls that your body responds with eager accommodation.

Jesus, he wants to touch himself. Just put a palm over his groin and rub the ache that’s building there. But he knows better. Knows if you wanted him to, you would tell him. No, he doesn’t want to scare you. This is a demonstration. Not a mutual—

What were you proving to him again?

You shakily bring your other hand down to your clit. Fingertips pull up the hood and start rubbing up and down in a v-shaped sawing motion. A few grunts and moans are held down by your lips, but it’s getting difficult to be decent.

Your high pitched keen takes him back to you. The way your hips rock slightly against the bed, brows drawn tight. You’re desperate. He knows that look and those sounds. You’re so close yet not there, and the frustration is leaking out. Despite the occasional return to your weariness, avoiding his gaze, your legs twitching inward like they want to close off from his insatiable view. Your voice is strained, lips pulled tight until your teeth to keep any heady sounds out.

“Don’t hold back,” he hums quietly. “Make yourself cum. Show me.” His pupils are wide, observing every second that passes like he’s etching this scene in his mind.

As if anything about this situation made you ‘decent.’

You shyly whimper again, voice caught in your throat. “I—“

“Do it.”

Rapid movements of your hands go by quickly before your entire body is seizing up, mouth agape as you arch backwards. The air hangs in the room for a solid moment before a painful moan rumbles out of your throat. Javi has to bite back his own groan as the muscles in your arms and chest, belly and legs strain. He can make out the delicious quivers of your orgasm washing over you, like endless waves of sweetness colliding all together, and the pulses of your sensitive clit. The dildo, pushed fully to the rounded sack, drips with your sticky fluids.

Javi forces his steady breaths through his lips, trying to be quiet under your panting. He almost came in his pants, fuck. He hasn’t even touched you, hasn’t even touched himself. Yet he feels the sharp throb of his nails sunk into his chin, his cock pulsing madly in his tight jeans, trying to calm his body from jumping up and finishing the job with you.

This is the point where he expects awkwardness to fall over the room—one person satisfied and sober-minded while the other is on the verge of doing something totally reckless. Him being the latter. He’s got to excuse himself—

The hottest, most pornographic, self satisfied moan known to man escapes your lips as you push the dildo back in. Your walls clearly fight the intrusion, still braced from your recent orgasm. But you don’t stop, rocking your hips fervently and building up your arousal so quickly, it almost was as if you didn’t just cum moments ago.

What surprises him the most is that you keep. Going.

“Dios mío, are you serious?” Javi mumbles, unable to hide the genuine intrigue in his voice. The same woman who was shyly trying to hold back her pleasure was no where to be seen as you reverently rock your hips back and forth, heels arched up on your tip toes, smiling proudly as lust fills your eyes concentrated on the inappropriate scene you’re putting on.

He can’t help it. His palm pushes flatly along his bulge, tongue darting out at the sight of your juices leaking from your tight hole and splashing to the blanket below you.

He didn’t even notice you staring at him. Heavy lidded and sensual. “Take it out,” you command darkly. the completely new voice coming from you electrifies his muscles, following your words on their own accord.

Swallowing, he unbuttons his jeans and pulls his stiff cock out without a second thought.

You moan with little excited jitters watching him wrap his big hand around it, pausing the dildo inside your succulent cunt. Involuntarily clenching and unclenching around it.

He works his fist over his cock, pooling saliva over the tip. You’re watching him, following the pace of his hands with the rut of the dildo into you.

Throwing your chest out vehemently, perky nipples pierce through the thin cotton of your shirt. Your free hand traces up under your shirt to massage your own breast, fingers pinching at the swollen nip.

“Talk to me. Tell me how it feels,” he groans. The angry red head of his length sticks up towards you, demanding attention.

“S’good,” you whine. “Feels so full. Fuck Javi…” you toss your head back and moan proudly again. Your whole body is much more relaxed now, giving in to the pleasure, enjoying yourself without pretense.

“You’re so beautiful,” his words slip hungrily. He swallows anything further from that. Let me taste you, let me touch you, let me ruin you. “Are you gonna cum again?”

You nod quickly. creases along your forehead appear as you stare down at your gushing cunt, rutting the toy into your pussy harder, more precise with speedy abandon.

“That’s it—fuck that’s it. Make yourself cum again, I want to feel it this time, with you.” His hand is ferociously pumping his length over and over again, the tension in his groin about to snap.

You position yourself upright now, the base of the dildo pressed against the mattress as you bounce up and down on it. One arm holds you from falling backwards while the other lifts your shirt further, revealing the underside of your tit. It’s a sight to behold, one of sensual power that has a death grip on Javi. He’s never going to get this image of you out of his mind. Never going to see you walk around this apartment in a shirt without seeing this gloriously sexy version instead.

You slam down a little harsher one last time, stilling entirely as your legs quake, your head falls back on the pillow aa your orgasm rolls throughout your body. The once quiet rouse goes out the door as you shamelessly wail, high pitched and throaty, into the warm night air like it’s only you and your pleasure in the entire world.

Your hips continue to grind along the length, legs shaking from over stimulation, but its the beastly little grin on your face, the darkness in your eyes as he continues to jerk himself that sends him over the edge. His grunts turn to whimpers as thick ropes of semen spurt from his tip, coating his hands generously in white cream. He groans out the last few dribbles, sensitively wringing out his orgasm until he falls back against your desk and pants.

His shirt sticks to his back and chest. It’s like he’s back outside running through the rain, only this time much hotter.

He catches his breath while you wipe the sticky mess from between your legs with a damp cloth.

“You’re something special,” he sighs with a grimace. He curses again, wiping the sweat from his face.

Now is the part where you ask him to leave, that its weird, that he’s overstayed his welcome—

You’re over him, shirt pulled down but pussy and ass still wet and bare. He glares up with uncertainty, flinching when you wrap the same towel over his softening length and cleans each one of his fingers. He stutters for words, too taken by your gentle hands separated only by fabric all over his most sensitive areas.

You pull away before he can think too deeply about it.

“Thank you. For…um...”

You purse your lips and avoid his gaze. It’s too hot in here now. The rain outside subsides, leaving only a sticky residual humidity that feels heavy in your lungs.

Javi tucks himself back in his jeans but leaves them unbuttoned. He carefully brushes your arm, spinning you to face him once again.

His thumb brushes over your cheek soothingly. “It doesn’t have to be anything.”

He doesn’t push it further from than, but judging by the big sigh you let out, your shoulders sinking from their tense state, maybe that was for the best.

“I’m glad you called me. Glad you’re home safe. Get some rest,” he whispers before pressing a light kiss to your eyelid.

Without another word, he slips out of your room and closes the door softly behind him.

-

You wake up alone in your room the next day, your heard pounding from migraine. Javi’s left the apartment already. Aside from a fresh pot of coffee left for you, there’s no obvious acknowledgment of the night. And for the entire next week, he never brings up what happened. Doesn’t confront you nor treat you any differently than he has before last night. You’re not sure if its a good thing or a bad thing.

The only exception being he has not brought another woman to the apartment since.

Not that you assume he’s suddenly celibate. It’s more likely he’s been going to their places instead of yours. Perhaps it’s gentlemanly-ish. So you don’t feel used and overwhelmed.

Kind, but unnecessary of him.

You don’t hear from him for 3 days. Most likely caught up at the embassy, paper work, stakeouts, all of it barreling down on the man hour after hour. Like they don’t need to rest, eat, function like human beings in the never-ending war he’s pitted himself in.

You need something more to hold on to. To feel that thrill again. your little session with your roommate has awaken that need for physical intimacy that you keep telling yourself is useless.

It’s not like nobody has ever expressed interest before. Hell, Marcus from your office has asked you at least a few times for a cup of coffee, even suggesting you finish some paperwork up at his place.

But each time, you refuse. Theres something about being naked in front of someone for the first time, let alone going as far as sex that puts panic in your mind, and you’re instantly refusing a simple coffee date for lack of better reason.

You’re not ready for it.

But more … sessions with Javi? That, you could do.

It’s 4am when he does return late Saturday night. You wrap yourself in a towel and peep from the steamy bathroom to see him toss his jacket on the floor and collapse on the couch. He rubs over his forehead with rough digits, squeezing his eyes out from everything they may have seen.

You conveniently forgot your clothes in your room, on the other end of the living space.

Tightening your towel around your chest, you tip toe across the room.

Javi sits up, alert at the sudden presence of someone else, but when his eyes settle on you, scanning down from your wet darkened hair, damp skin, small towel wrapped tightly around your body, barefoot on the balls and dripping water, he relaxes, letting out a breathy sigh.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you…”

He stands up and carefully approaches you. Instinct tells you to back away, so vulnerable right now in only a towel, but your body wants to know what its like to feel his hands on you again, even if only a brief fleeting touch.

“Rough night?” You ask softly.

He brushes his knuckles against your smooth skin, reveling in the way the water sticks to you. Your body is warm, both from the shower and his attention. He smells the scent of your shampoo, mingling with the cigarettes lingering on his tongue.

“Something like that…”

Your eyes are fixed at the deep v cut of his shirt, carelessly unbuttoned and revealing the shine of his chest.

He chuckles. “That I know.”

“I was thinking about that night. About you.” He takes in a hesitant glance your way. “N’ I Know I said it didn’t have to be anything. But…it didn’t have to be a one time thing either. If you wanted…”

“—And I told you: I’m not one of your hook ups,” you hum with a grin. Your tone is anything but offensive, though. Leaning closer to him, raising a brow as if to insinuate something else.

His fingers continue to trace along your arm, down to your wrist and back up, bringing out chilled bumps. Gentle yet rough digits pulling your face into his as he whispers across your cheek, “Please tell me you’ve been kissed before…”

“Of course,” you whisper in a quick breath.

His eyes darken.

“Show me.”

He barely finishes before your lips immediately attach to his. The kiss is soft yet needy, slow yet wet and hungry, like you’re both savoring it while also rushing for more, swallowing tongue before just lightly sucking on the lower lip, then engulfing your mouth whole all over again. An invisible force pulls you towards him until you’re reaching for him, refusing to let him part for you even for air. His callused hand cups your jaw, deepening the kiss. Hungry, like both of you had gone too long without reprieve.

Without hesitation, you drop the towel to the floor.

You feel the growl from deep within his chest purring against your front as he pulls away. His gaze follows the swish of the cloth down your naked body. No words shared between the two of you despite the clear sign of agreement. You walk towards your room, your hips gently swaying and disappearing into your bedroom. Urging him to follow.

You leave the door open.

-

Eventually this little routine is happening every few nights. Javi finds himself in your room, leaking cock in one hand while you have your fingers or dildo or vibrator in yours, rubbing yourself with hearty grins plastered on your faces. He always lets you cum once, your body seemingly relaxing after your first orgasm that invites him to ask for more.

You usually are hesitant at first. The first few times only letting him sit next to you while you masturbate, urging him to just look down at his own doings. But as minutes go by, and panting gets hotter, and the pleasure mounts higher, you can’t help but watch him too.

He keeps inching closer each night. From the chair, to the foot of your bed, until Javi’s just as naked, lying against your backboard beside you, fisting himself with tense muscles and watching you rub your clit with fast circles, your eyed trained down to his rapid movements. He whispers warm words of encouragement, “Such a pretty pussy, rub it tighter, moan like you mean it.”

He edges himself, letting you become comfortable exploring your body in front of him. Wants you to keep going, see how many you wring from yourself before he’s giving up and fisting himself to completion. Always ending with both of you cumming around your own hands, panting and watching one another ravenously.

He’s never gone so far with someone yet not gone all the way.

Tonight is just as intimate. You’re both lying next to each other on your bed. Your leg hooked over one of his, each little bounce from his fist slamming up and down over his slick cock jotting your calf. Knees bent and spread wide, hypnotized by the scene of the other touching themselves. His knee bumps under yours. The bed rattles with little creaks from your solo masturbation sessions.

“Oh--oh—Javi,” you moan needy, neck arched back. Your hair gets messier and more tangled each time you rub it along your pillow, near pain from preening over so much to watch him.

His mouth is agape, tongue resting between his lips as he stutters through his breaths. You don’t miss how widely his pupils are blown, caught between watching you rub your fingers through your spread folds and the desperate look on your pretty little face.

Your loud soaked pussy calls to him. He can’t keep pretending it doesn’t.

“Jesus—Fuck. I gotta taste you.” He mummers quickly.

You let out a low whiny breath from your throat, removing your fingers from the center of your pulsing core.

He rolls over to his side so hurriedly and sinks your digits into his month. He hums ravenously, suckling your slick.

"I need to touch you,” he grunts. “Need to know what it feels like.” You grasp his wrist and bring it down to your breasts. It’s new territory for both of you. But the thrill of a third orgasm building in your system throws caution out the door as he takes the lead, squeezing your tit before trailing his wet hand down your belly and between your legs, joining your aching digits that had been working diligently there.

He watches your face contort the second he presses his fingertips on your clit. “Beautiful, so beautiful like this,” he hums. His fingers begin messily swirling over your entrance, kicking away your own hand to do his work, his way. "Fuuuccckkkk , oh she's just as soft as she looks. So wet and messy, baby, you like when I rub your hot pussy? Such a horny little thing."

You bite your lip and nod eagerly, rolling yourself against his palm. “Please, please Javier,” you whine, thrusting your hips closer to his hand. It doesn’t matter that you sound no different from the many women who’ve come and gone in his life. You’re insatiable for his touch, for more that you had been denying for weeks now.

"Touch me,” he groans. You slick up your hand along his own at your cunt before wrapping it around his cock. He hisses, the sensation of your soft hands making him pulse madly, desperate to avoid thrusting up into your sweet palm. He's thick, warm and velvety smooth, alive and twitching under your touch. So much unlike your cold lifeless toys you've become so aquatinted to. So new and fascinating. It sends shivers up your spine. A heartbeat in your core that yearns to feel more.

His rough fingers work over your clit. "That's it. Stroke my cock while I play with that pussy.” He grunts each time you swipe your thumb over his slit.

"Inside," you moan. "I want to feel—“

He slips two digits easily, pushing deep until he’s twisting and pulling, in and out with languid thrusts. The sweetest, happiest whimper escapes you, biting your tongue as he smothers himself into your heat.

"Oooohhhh, you’re so loose? This is what a virgin pussy does all day? Stretch herself until she's able to take any cock the minute she sees it?"

You shake your head. The pleasure riding through you is too good to be able to think, let alone speak. Your mind feels foggy. Teetering between sanity and the need to cum on this man’s fingers.

He grinds his palm flat against your slit and you’re gone, shaking around him with raspy groans. Smiling and crying, he works you over your release again and again, drawing it out with deep strokes before pausing, holding pressure right where it feels most empty.

He curls them upward, poking your sensitive gummy roof like a sniper. “Javi!” You shout, arching backwards as his lips attach to your breast.

“Querida,” he growls. He pulls your nipple from between his teeth before letting it bounce back to place. “You’re going to cum.”

It’s a fact. You’re nodding desperately, your own hand wrapped around his wrist to him fucking you with three fingers now. Your needy desire for release, mixed with the previous orgasms, create a unique stretch around him, one he’s not relenting from as he pounds your cunt perfectly with his hand.

He watches your body convulse the entire time.

“Where—nnnhhmm!! where’d you learn to do this??”

You’re instinctually pushing your hand down to your lower tummy, eager to draw out your orgasm when his thumb meets you there and you both grind down into your squishy pelvis, just below your lower belly.

OH—oh—My fuck!” You screech. Your hands fly back into the tangled mess of pillow and sheets, gripping on to something. He grins sinfully, pushing down again and rubbing. Energy and fireworks, tingles of pleasure coarse throughout your body.

“I told you I could make it feel good.” He stops and starts at just the right moments. Feeling incredible yet distantly out of reach from what could get you to orgasm.

You let out a desperate giggle, your voice far from your own. “I wanna cum again.”

He kisses you again, swallowing your tongue. “Want your mouth,” you hum.

Javi’s breath catches in his throat for a moment before descending down your body. His lips latch on to your tits again and then over the soft flesh of your belly. He settles between your legs.

“Spread them, spreadspread.” The urgency in his voice cracks, like a version of him that’s slowly dissolving from the cool, in-control demeanor. Desperate, so much so that he can’t maintain his composure. The side of him you suspect very few people see.

Javi Peña loves eating pussy. But living in Bogota has kept such activity to a limit because it’s not advisable to put your mouth on a prostitutes cunt for… obvious health reasons.

But when you part your thighs eagerly, he feels himself lose it a little in his brain. “So fucking pretty, Dios, all f’me?”

He rubs his thumb over your slit again, gathering the copious slick that’s been drooling into the bedsheets. “You get this wet all the time, don’t you?”

You rush to shake your head, hips canting forward just to feel his hot breath against your mound.

“This the first time a man’s gone down on you?” He asks.

He laughs. “Yeah you do. You’re just a wet desperate girl, princesa, needed to cum a few times to get ya here. Get ya nice and relaxed, spread for me.”

“Javi, please.”

Your stomach tenses ever so slightly, like a bomb being dropped in the room. You avoid his gaze, knees starting to cave in.

“Shhhh, watch. Just watch. All you gotta do. I’ll take it from here,” he coos. He kisses your sensitive nub once, and you cover your mouth from the keening too loudly.

He does it again, tongue poking the tip and sucking in some of your sticky sweetness. Then another, this time, flattered and taking in some more of your slit. He can’t stop. Can’t stop going in and taking more, tasting you, letting your fluids coat his tongue and fill his buds. You watch him hesitantly the entire time, the resolve crumbling from you with each snag of his lips suckling your heat.

He’s careful to put his hands gently along your thighs, stroking you. Soothing you to stop tensing. when he slips his fingers back inside your hole, he feels you starting to pull away.

"Don’t deny it. Don’t deny it. Let it happen. Let it go, I can see it in your eyes. All drunk and needy in there, don't deny her. Let her have this.” He hums against your pussy before fully sinking them into you, devouring you with a mission to make you sing.

It doesn’t take long.

His words settle over your muscles and you start to immediately convulse around his fingers, clit throbbing excitedly as you wail out, with no better words, like a complete whore. He’s only aggressive with you just in this moment, with you back arched off the mattress, keeping your mound pressed against his lips, refusing to part with your succulent cunt as he drinks down your orgasm.

Each clench of your walls is driving him feral.

“Shit—oh-ohhhh fuck—your tongue…”

“Yeah?” He laps along your slit again. “What about my tongue?”

“S’good,” you rasp. Your fingers sift through his dark hair, his natural curls more noticeable now from the humidity shared between your bodies. “Feels so good on me. N’your lips. Oh Christ, your nose, its…keeps nudging my clit—Javi its so good!”

Javier pulls you down along the bed until he’s kneeled on the floor, his shoulders hunched over your heat. He’s losing it, the raw praise of your first experience tumbling out and going straight to his body, suckling everything you’re giving him. Pushing down then pressing up, his tongue laps over your clit in rapid flicks. Fisting his cock the entire time to your delicate sounds and slick pussy. It takes every fiber of strength in him not to force his cock into you right now.

You’re seizing up in a silent cry and Javi knows he’s go you wrapped around his finger, literally. the transaction inside you is violently blissful, and he stays exactly where he is to let you have it all. Your body wiggles from the stimulation but you keep cumming for him. He never wants you to stop.

He feels your hand slap over his on your thigh, and he eases off the pressure. Lets you fall back down with little jitters, drawing it out, your breath caught in your throat, then letting you relax, reminding you to breathe again.

You lean forward to watch his hooded eyes, his hand pumping over his cock with the shine of your juices slicking over the reddened tip. It beats angrily, desperate for release. You can’t help but draw circles around your entrance. He growls, transfixed by it before shooting his loud with a yelp, creamy and thick all over his stomach and thighs. Javi collapses forward. Rolling his forehead along your tummy, his scruffy damp hair brushes along your inner thigh as he kisses the inside.

He smiles drunkenly at you. Mustache and chin still soaked with your arousal.

“I don’t have to teach you a damn thing.“

-

You stare up to the ceiling. The room smells of sex, sweat, and cigarette smoke. He passes you the bud. Accepting it in your nimble fingers, you press it to your lips and inhaling its rough, addicting flavor.

“Wouldn’t peg you for the smoking kind either. Just full of surprises, aren’t you bebita?” He laughs.

You cough a bit. “I’m not that seasoned with it—“ passing it back to him. “Last time I tried was in college.”

He waits for you to finish your thought. Not pushing.

“That why you’re here? Ran away from school?”

You shake your head. “Ran away from something.”

He never pushes you.

“I ran away from my boyfriend who was about to propose. Even though we hadn’t even done anything… ya know.”

“You can’t even say sex yet you were just cumming on my fingers and tongue 6 times tonight.”

You both giggle, your legs curling up along his thigh.

“What about you? How’d you end up here?”

He clears his throat of the smoke. “I ran away from the woman I was 10 seconds away from marrying.”

The silence of his confession floats in the air among the smoke that’s slowly drifting out the open window.

“… That’s way worse than mine, actually.”

It’s neither accusatory, nor belligerent. And Javi feels relaxed for the first time in his own apartment, admitting something that he never wanted to think so heavily about again. He looks over to you, your gentle breathing, such softness packed up in a resilient and fierce woman. Someone he’d never think to be in the same place and same time as him, in such a shitty state of affairs.

Yet, here you are, with him, in a single bed.

He lets out a breath, hoping you don’t notice the disappointment.

“I—“

“It’s getting late,” you note, sucking your lips.

Playtime was over.

He rolls out of bed and fishes for his pants, rolling them on before slowly making his way to your door.

“Night,” he hums softly over his shoulder.

You simply grunt and turn over, and Javi leaves back to his own room.

-

He’s pleased that you never stray away from your nightly activities, even if they do end up going nowhere by them you’re finished.

He starts eating you out regularly. Or fingers you while you jerk him. Every night, and always multiple times a night. You’re simply filling the void of other women he’d have at his disposal normally. And he’s catering to your curiosities and need for release without getting too entangled with consequences.

All this climactic build. He's OK with taking his time with you.

He can still get experienced pussy begging for him any other time at a snap of his fingers. He knows he's good and doesn't need to prove it to you.

The fact that he still wants to anyway is just… trivial.

Truthfully, Javi’s never gone so long without fucking a woman. He’s never viewed sex as ‘claiming’. Sex is freeing. It’s beautiful yet shallow if need be, and always benefits both parties.

It’s—fine, not having you like that.

At least, that’s what he rehearses in his head every night before entering your room and seeing you spread out with your fingers dancing in your shake pussy, begging for his attention. Yeah, he’s fine taking his time with you. It’s not like you’re going anywhere, seeing anyone, doing anything else.

A sentiment that feels threatened when he brushes past the window overlooking the main road in front of the apartment building. A stray car approaches to a stop. Years of training and real life experience has forced him to recognize every car that parks along this street stays in this building, and drives by regularly. This one is suspiciously new. Until he sees you stepping out of said car, and someone rounding the corner from the drivers side to help you out. The guy is standing a bit too close for normal comfort as the two of you chat. Javi has the instinct to go down there immediately to fend you off from his advances.

But when said man leans in to kiss your cheek—a polite peck more than a kiss—that Javi feels his jaw ache from how badly he’s been clenching his teeth.

He notices you’re much happier coming in through the door. Something cheery, brightening the space around you and the air you’re breathing out.

“Hey you,” you nod towards him. He doesn’t respond, just watches you intently from the living room. You don’t seem to care either, going about putting your keys and jacket along the counter. There’s a sweet, contained smile that keeps creaking along the sides of your lips. The type of smile he used to think emulated you: kind smile, sweet smile, innocent smile.

He wants to bend you over his leg and spank the delirious look off your face. Replace it with the devious, sinful grin he’s burned into his retina, the one you always give him when he’s got his tongue on your clit, fingers in your hole, bringing you over the edge knowing you’re going to give him that same smirk. The version of you so unafraid to ask for it again.

He steps into his room and slams the door closed without acknowledging you.

-

Javi seemed to have been overly busy with work these last few days.

You find yourself in the quiet empty apartment most nights alone, only catching a glimpse of him for an hour here or there before he’s quickly disappearing out of the flat. You reason the stress of what he does, the danger and baggage, is the reason for his cold demeanor.

It’s possibly the first time you struggle to get off by yourself.

“Fuck,” you huff, annoyed. You toss your dildo across the bed and fall back onto the pillows, your face flush with light sweat. It’s ridiculous, the amount of work you’re putting forth right now trying to reach one measly little orgasm.

Your ears perk up at the sound of the front door opening and closing, shuffling footsteps making their way across the floor.

You shouldn’t bother him. He’s probably tired. He doesn’t want to be your human vibrator.

But the thought of Javi here again sends warm slick pooling at your slit. Holding your breath, you slide your fingers between your folds, sighing. Your arousal is fresh, sticky and lubing your hole nicely. You try to remember the warm, lively sensation of his tongue on you, his lips enclosing around your clit with each swirl.

Javi stares back at you with lidded eyes and a grin. He enjoys making you fall apart underneath him. You hold in your whimper, an extra gush of your arousal coating your fingers. Working diligently now, back and forth in V formation, you recall the breathless grunts he makes when he fingers your pussy. The way it vibrates against your clit. How he slows to shallow rubs along your ceiling before twisting and scissoring in and out rapidly until it squirts out of you. How he tells you, “Beautiful, cariño,” right above your lips. The softness to his voice despite the body shaking orgasms he wrings from you each night like it’ll be your last.

You’re close. Tooth snagged so deeply on your tongue it may bleed. “Javi,” you whine. He’d bite your ear playfully to get you to make sounds like this.

“Only for me. You cum like this only for me.”

You gasp out and immediately retreat your hand. Your cunt pulses angrily, denied and desperate.

Fuck chivalry.

Wiping your brow, you hoist up and make your way to the kitchen with only your damp underwear and t shirt. His room door is closed, but the lamp light is on.

Juices still freshly coated on your fingers, you first and raise to an urgent knock.

The door swings open before your knuckles can make contact with the wood.

A sweaty woman in few clothes, tousled hair and smudged makeup greets you wide eyed but goes casual when she gets a look at you.

“Didn’t expect you’d have another after me tonight, Peña,” she teases back towards Javi.

Javi. Bare-assed Javi hoisting his jeans on. Sweat-covered Javi with damp hair. Grinning Javi turned surprised at your presence, knuckles braced in the air with a perplexed look on your face.

He swallows and looks away, pretending to wipe his nose, busying himself by gathering the scattered bits of his and her clothes around the room.

“I was… just going to ask,” you begin, slowly lowering your hand to your side. “…if you wanted some tea. Was making some. Thought I’d ask.” Your voice feels cold and collected, opposite of the heat prickling your body and running lava through your veins.

He shakes his head and avoids you.

The young woman slips her heels on between you, a slight smirk spreading across her lips as if slicing the tension into a bigger cut.

She slides over to Javi and grasps his head, pressing a long kiss to his cheek. His eyes cast over to you just as you pull them away.

Why are you still standing here?

“I’m just—Just gonna…” you back away and nearly run to your room, but the kitchen calls for your lame excuse, and you begin shuffling mugs and prepping the kettle.

He escorts her across the floor and towards the front door, where he tilts her chin with one curled finger and plants his lips on her.

You involuntarily recoil, shrinking back into the awkwardly silent kitchen.

When the door finally closes behind her, it’s just you and Javi again.

From… excitement…?

You clear your throat. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to walk in like that. I was just—“

“Asking if I wanted tea, mm?” He teases. He saunters closer to your space, brushing the handlebars on the cabinets. You avoid his gaze and continue pouring water into the kettle, your hands a bit shaky. From rage, from frustration? Why either of those? What’s it to you?

He places his warm hand on your wrist, calling you back to reality. The warm water flows over the top, wetting your hands and cascading down to the sink basin.

His breath is on your cheek. His presence is simultaneously comforting and unfamiliar. But the lingering aroma of the woman’s perfume wafts off him, and you aggressively shove him back with your shoulder.

“I’m quite tired so if you could just.”

“So tired, you’re up now making a cup of tea?”

You’re starting to understand why most of his company is just women he pays to be here. Why he doesnt have friends outside of work. Why he’s as insufferable as everyone paints him to be.

You straighten your back and face him. “Yes.”

But his angler nose brushes right against yours, his rough hand caressing around your elbows and to your lower back.

You want to back away from his presence but you’ve nowhere to go.

“You’re jealous,” he breathes against your cheek.

“M’ not.”

He rotates his head, amused.

“You hear everything that goes on behind this wall. You know how much pleasure I bring them.”

You go quiet. Because he’s right. You don’t know how good sex could be.

“I can feel just as good—better—on my own. I don’t need anything more from you.”

“How would you know…unless you’ve tried both sides. Tell me that with your own conviction.”

He near forcefully smashes his lips to yours, but you find there’s hardly any instinct to resist.

“It’s more than just getting off. It’s the touch—“ his thumb trace your lower lip before letting it go, “the breath—“ hot hair fanning into your ear before he lightly bites at your lobe “—your heart.” He grasps your hands and presses them against his chest, urging you to push once again. Instead, you sink your palms flat, fingers splaying across his supply skin. It’s like you can feel the blood flowing, his heart erratically pumping in tune with yours.

Your lips tremble for a moment. “I—“

The woman who had just graced his presence moments ago flashes before your mind.

You break away. “You can’t keep—“ he forces your head to tilt so he can engulf your mouth again. “Kissing me—just—“ he cups your jaw and presses more deeply. “Just—mmmff!—just because—you—ugh Javi—don’t wanna....talk.” You rasp the last line just as he backs you flush against the wall, two hands securely around your face as he ignores your pleas and continues making out with you.

“Is it working?” He whispers devilishly.

Your brain feels too foggy. “Mmm—n-no,” you lie. Shit. What were you saying again?

“Yeah? Does it make you go soft for me?”

You hum, letting him trail kisses down your cheek to your pulse point.

“What about when I touch you here?” His fingers drift under your shirt, nudging your damp panties to the side. You’re practically oozing into his palm at this point.

“Oooooo so wet, Querida….” he chuckles softly, working your clit over and over again as his middle and pointer slide through your opening gracefully. “You know you get wet when you’re mad at me?”

“Yeah…f-fuck…I—“

“Shhhh. It feels good, doesnt it? Let it feel good, Hermosa. Tell me you like when I touch you.”

“I—I like it,” you whine with a hushed cry.

“So sloppy,” he teases, pecking at your jaw once more. “Such a sloppy messy pussy.”

“What toy were you using?”

“Just m-my fingers”

You must be drunk. Yeah that’s it. Or maybe he’s high from busting down so many cocaine puffed doors this week. Because the way you’re looking at him, with more honesty and boldness than he’s ever seen. Even more than when you’re pushing your cute thick dildo and riding it for a hour. You practically glimmer now in his view.

“Awww c’mon, you can do better than that.”

“I wanted you instead.“

He wants more of you like this.

And he wants you all to himself.

He drops to his knees, his lips leaving a trail of saliva down your naval. He sucks your nub right into his mouth and sloppily makes out with your pussy.

“Did you think of me? When you were touching yourself before I came home?”

“No,” you moan defiantly. But he knows you can lie all you want: the evidence is drooling out of your cunt as he snickers.

“It’s okay, just relax. I’m gonna make it all better. Make the ache go away.” He pushes his thick finger right through your slick entrance, and you let out a desperate sigh. each glorious inch fills you, knuckle curling inward until he’s just barely scraping your G-spot. “Can ya feel it yet? Right here?” He brushes his lips over your lower tummy, right over the spot that his finger is pressing against inside you. “It aches, doesn’t it? Feels so empty. Not even your toys can scratch that itch properly. Fill that little spot inside you that’s crying out.”

“But you did touch yourself, hmm?”

you let out a choked gasp. “Javi—.”

You’re falling apart above him. Clawing at your sides and choking on your breaths. He’s not … doing anything. And yet, overwhelming you at the same time. Driving you wild unlike any man before.

You don’t know it, but he’s rock hard and throbbing angrily for the last hour.

He didn’t get to cum earlier. Fucked the ever living shit of out what’s her name, but even when he shoved her face hard into the mattress, he couldn’t conjure exactly what it would be like inside you. Would your body conform to him the way you melt at his touch? Would you shake and quiver, only responding to him?

His strong grip had started gliding up the expanse of your thighs, getting lost in the squelching sensation. The scent of your arousal just a hair string away from the peak of his nose. He’d get so lost dreaming of these moments that he worried he wouldn’t know when it was real. He blows air through his lips like a whistle, targeting your heated slit.

When you card your fingers through his hair, tugging, his parted lips are pried away. His glossy eyes stare up towards you.

You were quivering. Not from fear, or shyness, or anger. No. Your lips were parted in a silent o, eyes heavily lidded. He could see your stomach jittering, and below, your clit twitching like she was breathing.

You were cumming. Untouched. Unraveling before him while he sat on his knees and watched.

The grip he had on your thighs tightened possessively.

He was never going to give this sight up.

-

You're the sluttiest virgin he's ever experienced and never got to take for himself. He fucks you with your dildo, his fingers, his tongue. Moaning and desperate, begging and cumming so much then asking for it harder and faster. Not even women he's fucked regularly, who have had multiple dicks in them in a single day want it as badly as you do.

And what continued to astound him each time was that you can take it too. You haven’t even had the real thing yet, and you were taking poundings and giving orgasm after orgasm like you were a pro.

It's driving him mad.

So who the fuck do you think you are, after all your "lessons" together, after the amount of time he’d spent training and learning your body’s sweet spots, to tell him you’ve suddenly got a date and are bringing him over to your place?

“You what?” He snaps.

“He’s a coworkers,” you shrugged nonchalantly, unaware of his shift in tone. Your cheeks feel warm as you avoid his gaze, flustered that you’re telling your roommate about some trivial crush and a first date. “And he’s…nice.”

“Yeah. Chivalrous, if you could believe that sort of thing still.”

You’re stashing away dishes while Javi leans against the kitchen counter.

“Nice,” Javi repeats coldly.

You finished drying your dish and setting it back in the cupboard. The living room still needed tending to, straightening pillows, maybe lighting a candle. You attempted to slip pass the entryway, but Javi’s broad body stood in the way, blocking your exit.

He seemed…awfully tense.

“No… well…” you think about it for a moment. You weren’t planning it, but if one thing led to another, you weren’t going to stop it either…

“I know you don’t mind sleeping with women while I’m home but… it would be weird if you were here still so--“

“You’re planning to fuck him too?”

It’s as though he could read your mind, standing there pensively dreaming about some fuck touching you.

“You can’t sleep with some guy on a first date,” he states plainly, crossing his arms over his puffed chest, standing up a little taller.

“Of all the ladies you’ve brought here, how many did you treat to several evenings of dates again? Or did you even catch all of their names before you were sticking your dick in them?”

His jaw ticks, unfolding his arms.

You wait for him to spit something back, but he remains tight lipped.

He feels cold when you brush by him, eager to do your makeup for your date. “He’ll be here around 5.” A few moments of silence pass as you clear the coffee table. Then, you cup Javi’s jaw, instantly soothing his ache, turning him to face you. “Why don’t you find a pretty woman, treat her to a hotel room or something? Its been some time since you had…”

God, there it was again. Your hesitancy. Can’t even say the words. It was like you were a totally different person when you weren’t a shaking, orgasming mess under him.

“Since I fucked?” He asks coldly.

You nod, turning your head away shyly.

“Mhm. That what you want?”

You nod again.

“Alright. I’ll see about that tonight.”

-

Javi left the apartment, only to camp out down the block. The cigarette burned down his throat as he flicked it aside, his sunglasses eyes scanning the street. If he were on duty, this would feel adjacent to a stakeout, looking for a low life dealer that he could catch and hand over for less than legal interrogations. Instead, he was watching for a specific car to turn up.

And that it did.

He parked along the side of the street. The man that exited was slightly over dressed—slacks and nice loafers, a dress shirt. He looked like he came fresh from some office. Javi could make out his features more clearly now. Your age, decent height, good build. But the kind that works out at a gym rather than uses any of that muscle for work.

You had rushed down and hugged him at the front of the lobby. The kind-hearted smile, the one that felt forced and polite, greeted him. You couldn’t see Javi, none the wiser to your stalker. It made him recoil, glancing away when you pressed a chaste kiss to the mans cheek, pulling him into the door.

Javi knew he should leave it be. Maybe wonder on a walk, hang a bar, give you your time. A few weeks ago, he would have cheered it: a virgin getting her good reward long over due. His feet carried him on their own as he thought.

The man seemed like a decent fellow. Javi never really considered what your “type” would be. The only man he could envision you with for weeks now was —

“Javi.”

You stared back at him. Along with your date. Javi had found himself at the hallway of your door, right as you were unlocking it to bring your toy in.

He placed his hands on his hips awkwardly. “I uh. Meant to grab something.”

The quietness fell over the three of you.

“He’s my roommate,” you quickly clarify to your date. Having another man needing to enter your flat at the same time that you were brining a new one made you feel like—

Like the million times you caught Javi doing the same.

The uneasiness faded only slightly for your date. He didn’t bother to extend his hand for a shake, just nodded.

Javi really didn’t like him.

“He’ll just be a minute. Shall we?” You lead your man into the room, with Javi’s dark shadow trailing behind.

He latches the door shut behind him firmly.

For the most part, you and your date awkwardly make yourself comfortable around the living room. Despite the separation of couches, in the same position Javi found himself learning more about you not too long ago, he despised another man in the same position now. What secrets could he unravel from you? You undoubtedly had beer in the fridge. Were you planning to unwind the same way you led Javi on? Only this time going the whole way?

He ducked into his room, everyone else oblivious to his existence again.

“I think I’m going to freshen up,” you excuse yourself, heading towards the bathroom. The unit was tucked down the hall, towards your bedroom. You quickly straighten your hair, taking a deep breath. Mentally, you felt like you were preparing yourself, almost for a defensive. Why? It’s always like this with someone new. You get tense. Nervous. Suddenly you forget everything to sound natural, like you want to be here. Shyness of the unknown with another man rumbles through your veins, like his intentions, no matter how clear nor innocent, feel daunting.

You exhale. This was going to be good. You didn’t need to take it any further than a quiet chat. He wasn’t going to rush you. Today could just be a simple, easy, innocent date.

When you step in the hall, you’re immediately barricaded by the lurking figure of your incessant roommate.

“Not going too good, is it?” He tsks. you’re so used to him, you are barely aware of how close his body is to yours, careening you closer to the wall.

“It’s going great, actually. Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

You’re about to turn away, but Javi grips your wrist, pulling you back to him.

“You’re not supposed to fuck a guy like this on your first time.”

Jesus, he’s still hung up on your sex life right now? “Who says we’re fucking?”

“His face, his body language, his eyes, his bulge,” Javi lists. “If you can’t even tell that, you definitely aren’t ready for this.”

That made your blood boil.

“Why? He supposed to take me to a 5 star hotel? get over yourself, Javi.”

Javi grins, annoyance lacing the huff he lets out. You just didn’t get it, did you? “He’s supposed to know your body already. Has he even seen you naked?”

As quick as a whip you are with reports, you hesitate to reply.

And for a brief moment, Javi feels anger surge throughout him: the idea that you were out doing these sacred things with other men, and he was just another prositute you used at home.

He’d be proud, if it were anyone but you.

Javi pushed the thought from his mind. “I know your body better than anyone, cariño. I’ve told you before. I can show you a good time.”

He felt like the desperation was dripping off him like a sweaty baboon. But when your eyes flick down to his plump lips, the lids falling slightly as you imagine something foul behind that mind, he didn’t need answers.

Javi backed you up into the bathroom, gently closing the door behind you. The room was an awful green faded paint with old salmon-pink tiles along the backsplash and shower. The florescent light flickered randomly.

It would be the worst first place to show a woman a good time.

You wanted to curse him out, but your hands did nothing to protest his palms sliding along your legs, up to the thickness of your thigh. Like he had charted these paths many times before. Below your flimsy long skirt until the fabric was bunched at your hip.

You avoided his stern, deep gaze.

“You’re shy again.” He pinched your chin with his thumb and finger, pulling you to his face. You still turned away.

“Maybe I’m just not into you. Has that ever crossed your mind?”

Your words falter when the pads of his finger tips trace the seam of your panties, pressing against your clit through the thin veiled fabric.

He raised his browse, lips parted in a mocking way when you breath quickened. The two of you could feel it: the dampness seeping through, the gush of arousal coating him through the underwear.

Too stubborn to pant, you swallow the moan.

He corners the bridge of your nose against his. “I know you’re not wet from him. You know how I know?”

The air felt hot, thick, humid. It always did when Javi was in the room with you.

“Because,” he continues, “You bite your little lip when something turns you on, makes you drip. And you didn’t do that till the second I showed up at the door to interrupt you.”

Javi’s fingers dipped under the gusset, tracing your folds. You leaned further against the sink, legs spreading to his liking until his digits slipped past your entrance. The last bridge of defense giving him the right lubrication to betray you.

As he touches you, he watches the way his three thick digits slide flat over your entrance, sticky and quivering until they’re flat, and the slick is forcing itself out around the edges while putting a little pressure there that has you keening.

“I know sluts like you. Willing to throw a good man away, just to get a few good cums.”

Slowing fingering you in the bathroom, inserting and twisting his fingers expertly, he watches every twitch of your mind slowly crumbling under his touch.

"Know what else I've learned about you? You're all shy before you've had your first cum. All trying to be quiet, trying to be decent. Like you're scared to want it. Then the second I get that little clit spasming, you turn into a fucking whore. No shame. Screaming my name and grinding that slutty pussy begging for my cock to tear you apart. All it takes is that first-little-cum.”

A sudden knock at the door startles you both. “Everything ok in there?" You forgotten date asks.

You go to pry his fingers out, as if suddenly aware, and suddenly guilty. But Javi wraps his free hand around your wrist and keeps his fingers plunged deep inside. Staring at him with wide delirious eyes, you let out a loud moan as you clench around his digits.

"Jesus fuck, baby, already losin’ it for me,” he says, surprised. You’re holding him in place now too, convulsing, eyes rolled back in pleasure as you ride your orgasm. He never misses a single detail of it all, etched into his brain so many times. His delicately caresses your neck, pulling you close, muffling your unfiltered moans and gasps with the fabric on his shoulder. Your violent shutters are placated by his soothing coos: “Shhhh. I know. That’s what you needed, isn’t it? For me to scratch that annoying little itch.”

When you finally come to, there’s a new spark in your eyes. Hunger, Eagerness. Lust.

It’s like the door had been unlocked.

“M’fine!” You call out to the person behind the door. Hopefully, oblivious, but you didn’t seem to really care at the moment. It’s enough to suffice the current situation needing tending at the moment. “Really, really good.”

Smirking, Javi shuffles the rest of your panties down, working to undo his belt. Hastily, you sit on the sink further leaned against the mirror and spread wide. A new woman possessed, seemingly mind cleared or lost totally after the first cum.

He strokes his aching length a few times, the bulbous tip leaking and red. You with your heels on either side of the vanity, shirt bunched in your mouth. You wiggle excitedly.

"Shit. She’s fucking desperate for it,” he hums, eyes transfixed at your leaking, pulsing core.

“Please,” you beg. “Please just… put it in this time.”

He’d been dreaming of that for many nights now. Torturously so close each time yet so far. And now, now that you were asking—begging for it… he couldn’t do that. Not like this.

He shakes his head against your temple, closing his eyes in defeat. “I can’t, baby.”

“Please.”

He groans. The humidity of your hot bodies and incessant pants sticks to his forehead.

“You on the pill?”

Your brows tremble. “No,” you croak desperately but truthfully. It terrified him that the admittance didn’t change your neediness in the slightest.

He shakes his head in disappointment. “I can’t, I can’t.” He hopes that’s enough reason to call it quits now before it gets any further. He needed to stop now.

You hiss, nails clawing at his shirt. “Do it anyway. I gotta feel it, Javi.”

“No.”

Your voice becomes soft, hushed in a silky whisper. ”Don’t you want it?” You rasp, slowing jerking his length closer and closer until his tip can practically taste the dribble of slick tear drop from between your legs. “Don’t you want me?”

He growls. “You know I want it. Fuck I do. Christ, hermosa.”

“Then.” You center his focus back on your face. Your breaths mingling, lips brushing until you could taste the saliva off one another. You searched his eyes only to be met by the blackened expanse of dilated pupils that matched your own.

“Show. Me.” You press his hard length against the heat of your opening. “Show me you want me.”

He squeezes his eyes shut tightly before blinking again. “Okay. Okay, okay, fuck just… just the tip. Just a little. Won’t cum in you.” He tells himself more than you.

When he first slides in, there's resistance. He freezes, catching a slight panic in your eyes, like maybe you definitely were biting off more than you can chew.

“It's bigger..its big,” you choke fretfully.

He squeezes his eyes shut and concentrates, remembering how you do it with your toys. The way you push it in to test the slickness. Holding it there before trying again a little deeper, but never forcing. He knows its a slight stretch, accommodating the large girth of him than your dildo. He repeats the motions of you inserting it in his head, hips following suit. A short slide inside, then pull out to the tip, then slide slowly in again. Your other lips part, releasing a drawn moan as he sinks further, further than before until he's fully bottomed out, balls twitching against your slit. His hooked nose brushes over yours, your heavy, drunken pupils staring back at him as you breathe.

“Just like how we practiced, huh?” He chuckles.

The warmth that radiates from his body overwhelms you. Alive, breathing and thrumming with trepidation and restraint. Responding to you, your breath, each clench of your walls around him. A dance you thought you had perfected but had never performed with a partner, so unfamiliar now.

You drag him into your warm cunt, and he leans over you with a sigh as your wet heat overwhelms him, trying not to burst.

“There she is. There’s my girl. Only for me.”

But something feels wrong in your gut, and Javi can tell there’s been too much time between your last cum and now. You were practically coming to again, looking at the door instead of him.

He starts thrusting, making you grasp his arm, startled. Whatever had been on his mind about ‘just the tip’ has been long gone. The primal need to make you understand one thing only: he was fucking you, and he was the only one able to.

He grabs your chin and says sternly, “You look at me when I'm fucking you".

You nod quickly. There was no arguing. No desire to do so anyway. Your head tilting back, pelvis widening to accommodate a deeper angle for his cock to abuse your insides while heeding the ear of your unwilling audience.

It’s both so much and not enough, full and warm and electrifying in ways you had never considered. The world was different, the feel from both his end to yours.

Of all things you could not predict, Javi flicking the door handle, the door creaking open enough to expose you to your unfortunate, concerned partner. And when you make eye contact with your date, his face souring to a disgusted expression, your jaw falls open, cumming around Javi's cock, eyes rolling, you quivering, pleasure coursing through you at unimaginable strength. You don't have the mind to understand what just happened, the passage of time of the care to remember.

Javi’s smirking into your chest when he hears the slam of the front door. And the two of you were alone in the apartment once again.

The sound of skin slapping skin, the hot press of your sweaty bothers together in a mating frenzy. It all felt right in a way nothing had for you in a long time.

You were looking forward to more of what Javi could show you.

- - - -

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