Contains: p in v, m orgasm, public orgasm, spit play, praise kink, sub! Pope, 'mommy' used in sub space but not fauxcest
--🩷--
As the sound of twisting metal echoed through your apartment, and you knew J was picking the lock, it was too late.
Pope's thick thighs were bracketing yours and the feeling was already tightening in his stomach. You could see his ass muscles clenching in and out as he pounded into you. He whined in your ear. One hand was at the side of your head, the other wrapped around the bottom of your back. He had your hips lifted closer to his pelvis to fuck down into you. 'I'm close - I'm gonna cum.' You clenched around him and he cried out.
You pushed your nails through his damp curls, scratching at his scalp in circles the way he likes. Pope wailed, his head thrown back. 'Tell me... t-tell me... please.' 'You're my good boy Andrew, you're such a good boy.'
'That's it baby, there it is,' Andrew cried out. 'Please... please let me.'
'You gonna cum for mommy? Are you gonna be my good boy, Andy? Fill mommy's cunt with your special spray?'
'Oh God... oh fuck yeah... thank you... here it comes... hurghhh-'
'Pope? You in here?' As soon as J's footsteps echoed in your hall, his orgasm hit.
It was too late. Pope was too far gone and helpless to stop it His back arched as he emptied himself into you. Pope tucked his head into your neck, biting down on your bare collarbone, and melted into you.
'Oh fuck... oh God mommy.. mommy yes.'
'What the-.' You locked eyes with J, who looked mortified and began backing out of the doorway. He tried to pretend he hadn't just seen his uncle spilling into you; submissively begging you, calling you mommy.
Andrew's face flamed but he couldn't stop his cock from waving inside your tight cunt. Pulse after pulse spurted from his angry head into your cervix.
Poor Andrew was all confused. He groaned as he snapped his hips into you once, twice more; his jaw tensing in concentration and his arms pulling you into him, hard and rough. He's buried deep; his cock twitching inside you. You heard the front door close as Andrew collapsed on top of you. He was sweaty and whimpering, and you stuck out your tongue. 'Say thank you for letting you cum inside.' Andrew's puppy dog eyes softened as he nodded in earnest, pursing his full lips and letting a big glob of drool pour from his mouth into yours. You kept it pooled there for him to see, then swallowed with an exaggerated 'mmmm, yummy.'
'Did I do a good job, mommy?' 'You did such a good job,' you nodded, scratching him behind the ears. Andrew hummed and leaned his head into your nails. 'Good boy.' 'Thank you... oh fuck thank you.'
Contains: f orgasm, humiliation, coaxed plush grinding
--🩷--
'The thing about missing me on night shifts,' Jack's fingers trailed lazily up and down your bare thigh; a ghost of a touch, 'is Waffles.' 'Hmmm?' You asked, half-asleep and confused. Jack reached over and gently plucked the doggy stuffie he bought you from your arms, sprayed in his aftershave. You had been curled over his pillow to smell his shampoo, wearing an old soft tee, and cuddling Waffles. It was the only way you could feel semi-relaxed; just enough to sleep. 'Not only does Waffles give great cuddles,' Jack explained solemnly, making Waffles's head nod in earnest, 'he is also magic.' 'Magic?' You asked. 'Yes, baby,' Jack's voice has dropped low and rough in your ear. He makes Waffles give you a kiss on your nose. You smile with childlike innocence. How cute, Jack thought. 'Did'ya feel that?' 'Feel what?' You asked, receiving another kiss on the nose from your stuffie.
'He's very soft,' you mumble. Jack stared down at you with those intense hazel eyes, one eyebrow slightly raised and the smallest smirk playing with the corner of his lips. 'He's very hard.'
Jack made Waffles give you a third and final kiss on your nose, before making him dance along your shoulder. You giggle and dip your neck. You loved it when Jack played with your stuffies with you. It made you feel safe, relaxed, loved. You didn't need to think about anything else in the world; your thoughts cleared like clouds after a storm. The smell of Jack's aftershave, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the scruff of silver on his face, his calming breaths, and the low rumble of his voice as he brought your animal friends to life was nothing short of heaven. All you needed to think was Jaaack.
Jack made Waffles snuffle across your chest. 'Stop - daddy!' You looked up at Jack in surprise, eyes wide. 'He's only exploring, baby. He doesn't know what it means.' You eye Jack with careful suspicion. Waffles snuffles kisses down your stomach, and quickly darts to your ribs. He disguises Jack's fingers, which tickle you quickly and deftly. You giggle and squirm against Jack's half-hard cock. 'Oh, Jack...' you breathe. 'Ignore that,' Jack directs. 'Watch Waffles.' The way Jack coos to you has your insides melting and you purr in his arms. Waffles trails his doggy snout along the sensitive dip between your hip and your stomach. You held your breath as Jack hummed softly behind you. As Jack guided your doggy along the waistband of your panties, he dipped his snout playfully beneath the fabric. His cold nose made you shiver.
'Waffles is naughty,' you insisted. You felt Jack shake his head behind you. 'Nuh-huh,' Jack continued that low, rough mumble, 'he's magic.' 'He's not magic, he's a menace to society!' You laughed, 'he shouldn't be there.' 'He doesn't know it's wrong,' Jack insisted, 'he's just exploring.' Jack leaned around you and gently ran your stuffie's face along the seat of your panties. You stiffened as Jack lowered his voice. 'I'm only playing, mommy... play with me.' Waffles's hard, plastic nose pressed against your clit and you let out a soft noise at the back of your throat.
'I'm sorry, what was that?' Jack asked, running his snout back down your clit to your leaky pants. 'No-no-o-o-othing.' Jack gave a cocky smile. 'Your doggy is to keep you company for whatever you need when I'm not here. If you need a cuddle... or if you need something hard to sit on.' You started to gasp, which quickly turned into a small moan, as the stuffie nosed within your folds, towards the centre of you.
Jack pulled him back and inspected his snout. He smirked as he turned the stuffie to face you. 'Wouldya' look at that,' Jack mused, 'Waffles is wet.' Heat rushed to your face as you saw the hard button nose glistening with your slick. He hadn't even touched you bare; you were leaking through your pants. 'Noooo,' you cried, trying to hide your face in Jack's chest. 'Oh, yes, baby.' Jack couldn't hide his grin. He used your stuffie's snout to nose your panties to the side. His warm fluff and cold button nose made you bite your lip as it brushed against your bare skin. 'Don't,' you cried, 'you'll get Waffles's fur all wet.' Jack kissed the top of your head. 'Waffles can always have a bath later,' he reassured you. 'He just wants to explore...'
Before you had chance to protest, the stuffie's nose was pressed against your cunt, the hard nose pushing in as far as Jack could get him. It was centimetres into your tight hole, but it was enough. 'Fuuuck,' Jack breathed, his cock waving in his pants. You tried to hold in the squeak but failed when Jack moved the nose in gentle circles, exploring the wet sides of you. 'That's it,' Jack soothed. 'Let all of those pretty thoughts float away. There you go.' You looked down and saw Jack's thick, wide fingers circling the stuffie's shoulders. It felt so wrong but that made the sensation even better. 'Jack,' you moaned. 'Yes, princess?' Jack whispered in his gruff voice, gently biting the top of your ear. You clenched automatically, squeezing around the toy. 'Oh,' Jack was really starting to enjoy himself, 'I think Waffles really liked that.' 'Jack,' you whispered again, 'please.'
'Don't ask me, princess,' Jack raised the stuffie's head to look at you. 'Ask him.' Humiliation washed over you and you looked up into the famous Jack Abbot gaze. You lost your trail of thought. 'Please don't make me do that,' you whispered. Jack shrugged his shoulders and continued rubbing your now soaking cunt with your favourite present. 'Fuck - please!' Every inch of movement was delicious - the softness of the fuzzy fur dragging lightly across your inner thighs and the cool, hard surface of the pointy nose was driving you crazy. Of course it was. Jack teased you, working you up until he knew you'd beg for it. 'Wa- Waffles,' your mouth moved around the thick words. You looked up into Jack's blazing eyes. 'Look at him, baby, not at me.'
Jack raised the doggy's head again, tilting it to one side in an inquisitive stance. 'Waffles,' you hated yourself with every word, 'please.' 'Please what?' Jack even gave the toy a ridiculous voice. You wanted to die. 'Use your words,' Jack murmured, ''else he won't understand.' 'Please... please can you make me cum.' Your face burned with embarrassment. The fingers around the stuffie, closest to your cunt, were slowly being drenched in your slick. Jack knew how wet humiliation made you.
Jack slid the button nose between your folds, gathering your wetness along the snout and between his eyes. 'Like this?' The ridiculous voice continued. You were about to swear at Jack and plead with him to stop, but the cold nose pressed just above your clit... just above where you needed him. 'Yeah... yeah, like that.' The button nose swirled around your clit in feather-light kisses, working you over in the way Jack knew you liked with his fingers. You couldn't disguise the filthy noises leaving your throat, and Jack kissed the top of your head. You could hear his heavy breathing so close to your ear and you clenched uselessly around nothing. 'If you need Waffles somewhere else, all you just gotta beg.' You made a strangled cry, resolving to hold onto your last shred of dignity. Maybe you could cum from just this? A weak one, if he did it for long enough.
Jack started to pull the toy away. 'Please! You cried, desperate now from the edging and the fear of it stopping. 'Waffles, please... please make me cum.' Jack left the toy suspended in the air for a few seconds until you whined. The toy finally, finally, hit where you needed. You couldn't help but grind against the nose. Some part of you was aware you were ruining his fur but you didn't care anymore. Your hips chased the friction, pushing against its face. Jack held Waffles steady, allowing your pressure to remain against the button. Sloppy, wet circles against your sensitive clit made your body tingle, a band tighten in your stomach. It was different to fingers; heavier and more precise. Your chest worked faster, harder, as you came. 'Oh fuck,' Jack cursed, watching you soak the little dog's face. He gave a few more tender swipes of the snout along your folds, making drinking noises. 'Kiss the little doggy thank you,' Jack brought the stuffie up to your face. You panted as you kissed him, tasting yourself on his snout. 'You know I'll always look after you,' Jack turned your head to face him with a finger under your chin. 'Even when I can't be here... you've got someone to cuddle... and ride.'
Contains: slow burn romance, both think love is unrequited, near m orgasm, mentions of p in v and f oral but doesn't feature, f and m grinding, family present but don't know...
(Part 2 here! 🩷)
gif: bullet-prooflove
--🩷--
Pope couldn't believe he had your fingers linked through his, waiting on your parents' doorstep. It was their 30th wedding anniversary and you had asked him to accompany you as your "boyfriend".
You couldn't handle being asked why you were single and your family (and you had a big family) each trying to set you up with their friend / co-worker / dog walker / ex... you couldn't figure that last one out.
When you'd asked Pope, he wanted to say no. He hated people, wouldn't know what to say, and someone might recognise him as a Cody. He couldn't do that to you. But you'd said, 'pleaaaase, Andy,' and looked at him with those big eyes, so here he was. Pope was deeply in love with you, and he would do anything for those eyes.
You shuffled nervously next to him, and Pope gave your fingers a reassuring squeeze. You knew what that meant. You're safe. I've got you. I'm here. You tried not to feel the butterflies that bloomed in your stomach. It was just pretend.
The door opened with a squeal from your mom, and a reserved but warm welcome from your dad. He shook Pope's hand with both of his. Pope approximated a smile and tried not to crush his fingers. Immediately your mom fell in love. You could see her making the eyes at him - skinny jeans with thick thighs and an amazing ass. Black button shirt straining across his chest and biceps. Sunglasses tucked in his shirt pocket.
'Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Andrew.'
Pope tried not to react to the word but, despite knowing it wasn't real, it crackled down his spine like lightning and struck his cock. It twitched slightly in his jeans. What he'd do to be your boyfriend. Your husband. Your baby's father... nothing turned him on more than the idea of that.
Pope had difficulty with erections before he met you. He could barely get it up and had no reason to. The occasional sex workers Smurf arranged for him was already a fucked up situation in itself. Pope usually instructed them not to talk, roughly used them just long enough to empty his balls into them, then kicked them out with an intimidating snarl of, 'you better leave now.'
But you. Not with you. Pope couldn't remember a day in months that he hadn't fucked up into his fist and spilled on his stomach, imagining you moaning his name - sighing softly as you gave him a fucked-out smile from underneath him, kissing his neck. Everything would be different with you. Pope knew that. He knew that he could make you so happy... so safe... so full of his cum.
All Pope wanted was for you to call him your boyfriend. He wanted to murmur to you, 'say it again'.
Instead he managed an uncomfortable half-smile. It seemed to have been sufficient as they were ushered into the garden.
Your mom raised her eyebrow at you and winked. 'Very tall and brooding.'
'Mom,' you hissed. You were still linking fingers, and Pope could very much hear. His jaw flexed slightly, not enough that anyone looking at his blank, controlled face would see. But you saw.
Pope found it overwhelming to be passed round your family, and and spoke very little, but they all seemed to like him anyway. Either that or they were terrified of him.
You had practised questions together, like how long have you been together? 11 months. Where did you meet? Deran's bar. What are your intentions with my daughter? Pope's eyes had flicked to your dad's face at the joke, and couldn't answer with the things that came to mind.
Open every door for you. Slam you up against them. Take long walks down the Boardwalk. Lay you down in the sand and eat you out for hours whilst you watched the moonlight on the waves above his head. Pay for the most expensive dinners. Press you up against his truck in the restaraunt parking lot, hands in your hair, guiding your hips against his, and kiss you until your lips were swollen and everyone was staring. Movie nights where you fell asleep on the couch, head against his chest. Keeping his fingers down your panties through each and every film, just gently playing with your clit as you watched. Rubbing against it slowly, feeling you get wetter and wetter. Not bringing you to the edge, no, he wouldn't give you enough friction for that. (Not unless you begged him). He'd just play to reassure himself that you were there. Tuck you into bed at night. Slide in at 4am after a job and pull you close to him. Wrap his arms around you and smell your hair. Kiss your neck and gently sneak his hand under your sleep tank to squeeze your tits as you slept, his hard cock brushing against your back. Whisper how much he loved you as he pounded you into your shared mattress, your fingernails scratching down his chest until he bled. Make you tell him how you were his and only his, that you couldn't survive without him, that you loved him, you loved him, you loved him...
'Marry her then give her my babies.' Pope said.
There was silence for a second. Then everyone laughed.
'Atta boy,' one of your uncles said, slapping him on the back. 'I like this one,' one of your cousins winked at you, then looking at Pope under her eyelashes.
Pope's face barely changed, but he squeezed your fingers again, and couldn't fully understand why everyone was laughing. You weren't, though. You weren't laughing at all.
You looked up at him and, of course, he was already staring at you. Pope's eyes changed then. They softened, ever so slightly. Your lips parted as you considered his answer. Pope's eyes dropped to your mouth for just a second too long. When he looked back up to meet your eyes, you felt them again. Those ridiculous butterflies. It was just pretend, you reminded yourself.
Another of your uncles made a noise like he was throwing up. 'You two make me sick! Young love.' He rolled his eyes performatively. 'Best get on with the celebrations so these two can get back to bed.'
'Oh, for Christ's sake, John.' Your dad looked horrified at the mention of his daughter's sex life, shaking his head.
But you noticed Pope had stiffened, ever so slightly, at the presumption. No, at the suggestion. You were concerned he was uncomfortable.
'He's only joking, Andy, I'm so sorry.'
Pope looked down at you with what could only be described as bedroom eyes. 'I'm not,' he murmured.
--🩷--
It had turned dusk. The afternoon had been nice for you, seeing all of your family, and having a few glasses of fizzy champagne. Pope had nursed a whisky all afternoon, so he could drive you home safely.
You were gathered around the fire pit at the end of your parents' lawn. The flickers of amber light danced across Pope's face. His dusting of freckles, sun-kissed skin and hazel eyes looked so beautiful in this light. When he turned to smile at you, the expression only reserved for you, the butterflies hit again. Hard.
''you cold?' Pope murmured, rubbing your arm. You had shuffled closer and closer to him as the heat dropped. Pope's body was always very warm, and it was an excuse to move closer.
'A little,' you admitted.
'I should have brought my jacket,' Pope growled, really disappointed in himself. He usually thought of everything, to the point he drove Craig and Deran nuts.
'What? No! I should have brought mine,' you laughed softly. God, he loved that sound.
Your family were all spread out now. Small lantern lights had been strung across the trees and music spilled out into the garden from somewhere inside.
'C'mere.' Pope pulled you onto his lap, so your back was against his chest, and wrapped his arms around you. Your breath caught, and Pope heard it. He wasn't sure what had made him so brave. Pope had felt your shoulders bump every now and again throughout the afternoon, and had carefully committed each to memory so he could replay them over and over when he couldn't sleep.
But this... this was different. Intentional. Deliberate.
You looked down at his arms, tightly wrapped around your middle. His corded forearms and large hands crossed over. You leant on a diagonal so you could look at him. Big mistake.
Pope was even more beautiful up close. Your faces had never been inches apart before. His soft, auburn curls brushed against your cheek. You could smell his cologne, gently heated on his neck's pulse point. Pope's guarded and serious expression softened when he met your eyes and you melted.
'Thank you for this,' you whispered.
Pope didn't say anything in return. He couldn't. He just squeezed you a little tighter and closed his eyes for half a second.
You made sure you were still looking when he opened his eyes. You could see the flecks of gold within them and watched his pupils dilate. Heat bloomed in your chest.
You hesitated. 'Andy, I-'
'Who wants to play cards?' John shouted, coming over with a pack of cards.
Groans of protest echoed from around the garden, but a lot of your family drifted over. You turned back around and shot a smile at your uncle. Pope felt like his insides had been carved out. He was desperate to know what you were going to say.
--🩷--
Poker turned out to be a problem in two ways. The first was Pope easily taking everyone's money. He anticipated every move from every player after counting cards in his head. It wasn't intentional, but it came easily for him. He just knew how many players with the hands they had and by the tells they gave away how to manipulate the game.
If your family weren't so intrigued by this talent, they'd be pissed at losing so much money. (They were later once they got home).
The trouble was with playing on the big garden table. No one had even batted an eye at you sitting on Pope's lap. However you both had to keep leaning forwards to place your hands down or move chips.
Every time one of you had a move, you had ended up bent forwards on Pope's lap. Pope would lean his chin on your shoulder, his arms still wrapped tightly around you, with his cards off to the side - not that he cared whether you saw them or not.
Your back settled against his chest whilst other people took their turns but whenever you or Pope did, your hips moved across Pope's pelvis. Pope hoped you weren't noticing how often you were brushing against his cock, but he did hold you a little tighter around your waist.
Of course you noticed. You felt Pope become turned on, a slight rise in his jeans. You had tried not to think about it too much. To get off him and sit somewhere else would have been suspicious. So you stayed, slowly and repeatedly having to grind against him.
Pope felt embarrassed, so unbelievably embarrassed, that he was hard but there was nothing he could do. After a while, there was nothing he wanted to do.
You felt so good against him. He tried not to tighten his grip around your waist too much, not to grab your hips in his big hands and guide you against him.
It became a loud secret between you that you both tried desperately not to acknowledge. Pope bit his lip, straining uncomfortably against his jeans.
You felt yourself get wet.
Your dress was scrunching as you moved back and forth. Not so much that anyone could see, but enough to make your panties rub across the rough denim.
It didn't help that you felt him grow harder because that just made it feel even better.
There was no escape.
Every time one of you shifted forwards, Pope's hard cock rubbed against you. It felt so good.
You knew it was just a human reaction for Pope, that it probably had nothing to do with you and would happen regardless of whoever was sat on him, but you couldn't help but hope.
You had dreamed of this for months... sitting on top of Pope. But you would be looking down into his big puppy dog eyes. Kissing down his warm, sensitive neck and along his jaw line. Drawing a low, rumbling groan out of his throat. Pressing yourself up against him and lining yourself up against him. There would be no denim and no panties. He'd whisper that he couldn't take any more, and beg you to let him inside...
This wasn't helping. You were terrified of leaving a wet patch on Pope's jeans. Even if he didn't notice or feel it soak through onto his skin (which he totally would), your family would see it once he stood. Fuck.
You leant forward a little too far and felt your clit touch the top of his hard cock. Your clit against his swollen, now weeping, head.
You tried not to visibly stiffen, act like everything was normal in front of your audience, but fuck it felt good.
You thought you heard a whimper from behind you. It was quiet; so quiet that no-one else will have heard it but you. But you heard it.
Pope bit his lip so hard he drew blood and looked up at the sky.
He knew that you were aware by now, which was humiliating in and of itself, but he could feel, actually feel, you getting wet.
Pope's heart raced. You were getting so wet and worked up over him. This was his to keep.
The denim, stretching across his angry, desperate cock, was slowly dampening against his bare upper thigh and boxers.
Pope thought about his pre-cum and your wetness meeting in the fabric of his boxers and melting into each other.
He audibly swallowed and tried not to move an inch. Pope never wanted this to end.
But were you... grinding on him?
It felt like each time you moved, you pressed down a little harder, moved your hips further forward then drag them slowly backwards.
Did you not know what you were doing to him?
Of course you did. But in that moment, it didn't matter. There wasn't a garden filled with lanterns and soft talking. There wasn't your whole family playing an easy game of poker and laughing. There wasn't an anniversary or presents or cake.
There was only Pope's body. Your fake boyfriend. The heat of him, the way he smelled, his arms wrapped tightly around you. The thick thighs caging yours inside, his kindness in going along with this for you, even though you knew it made him feel uncomfortable. There was only where your bodies joined.
Maybe this is all you'd ever have with Pope. All you'd ever get.
He seemed oblivious when you flirted with him, and you'd never seen him with a girlfriend. You figured he just wasn't interested in a relationship, or at least a relationship with you.
But right now, in this moment, he was yours... and it was quite clear he wanted you.
You couldn't help yourself. You chased the feeling, pressing yourself down a little lower, and exaggerated your movements to and from the table. Pope was definitely trying to stifle whimpers now. You teased them out of him as you pushed your pussy down onto his cock.
You felt it twitch. Just once.
You turned a small moan into a cough.
The fewer the players left, the more often cards were put down. You had folded but Pope was still in the game. Of course he was.
It felt like he was purposefully angling his pelvis up into you as he moved. Pope felt guilty about this. You were his friend and you trusted and felt safe with him. He tried to stop, he really did.
But then you made a little movement, a small circle with your hips, and it was game over.
He was going to cum.
In front of all of these people, in front of the girl he loved, and all of her family.
You heard his breathing change, and felt his chest work a little harder, a little faster.
You didn't know whether to help him or swirl your hips harder into him.
You felt another twitch, and then a larger pulse.
You could hear the blood rushing in your ears.
To anyone else, it looked like Pope was murmuring to you. Pope was actually murmuring to himself. 'Ahh... no... uhh fuck... p-please let me... just a mmmmf a few more... uh nooo.'
You felt all of his muscles go rigid around you, his thighs tightening and lifting. Pope pushed himself up against you, unmistakable now, and made small rocking movements. His cock was starting to feel sore, it hurt how much he wanted you, and twitched again. You couldn't breathe. 'Oh God... fuck... I'm-'
'Who wants another drink?' John clapped Pope on the back.
All of Pope's muscles gave way and he scrunched his face so hard he turned red.
Teetering on the edge, the edge he so desperately wanted, but was trying with everything he had not to fall off.
One slight movement from you and it would have all been over.
Pope managed it to pull it back, sweating, then answered your uncle. You felt strangely disappointed. You were aware that this was a strange thing to feel disappointed over. Your fake boyfriend not cumming in his boxers underneath you in front of your family was probably a good thing.
But you would have liked it.
You could have convinced yourself that Pope wasn't just a kind friend, that he did want you, enough to orgasm in secret at your parents' 30th anniversary party.
Pope tried to regulate his breathing as his orgasm faded. His cock was slowly softening from the sudden interruption and the reality of the situation came crashing down.
You were his friend, who he had genuinely wanted to warm up, and who trusted him implicitly. Pope valued that trust like an heirloom.
Maybe it was for the best, then, that he hadn't blown his load into his jeans and made your thighs sticky.
It was easier for him to be disappointed than to hide the wet patch as he said goodbye to your family.
Besides, Pope thought, if he wanted to cum between your legs, he wanted it the right way. He wanted you looking into his eyes, fingers in his hair, moaning his name and begging him for it.
Fuck... he was getting hard again.
--🩷--
Does anyone want a Part 2 or is this a good one-shot?
Contains: refusal to get off Jack 😏 p in v, m orgasm, pregnancy mention, breeding kink if you squint
--🩷--
I like the *fantasy* of, and have written about, Jack and Pope refusing to pull out so they can cum inside you raw. I've been thinking lately about how hot the switch would be. Imagine Jack thinks he is too old for kids; they're not in his life plan... but you disagree. You've got him all flustered, he's pounded away at you on top, drilling you into the mattress. You can see he's getting close so you switch it up. You're bouncing away on top of Jack and it's clear he's right on the edge. His abs are tensing, his thighs are clenched, and his feet are planted on the mattress, toes gripping the sheets. Jack's moans are getting louder and higher-pitched. As you speed up you can see his face is scrunching and turning red. His jaw is slack and his eyes glossy. It was Jack who wanted to go in raw. It was easy to convince him once you pouted, 'just the tip', knowing once his bare mushroom head pushed into your warm, soaking wet insides, he'd beg you. Reassure you that he'd pull out. You nearly laugh in his face.
'Oh I'm gonna cum, fuck I'm gonna cum,' Jack's moaning. Your hips roll deeper, letting him feel every inch of you. 'You need to get off, baby,' Jack's gasping, biting down on his lip. 'Nuh-huh,' you shake your head. You lean forwards so your naked chest is pressed against his, glistening tits pushing against his pecs, hard nipples sliding along his sensitive skin... just how he likes. 'No, you do-aaahhh.... huhhh... ohhh.' You're kissing along his neck, his jaw, breathing heavily. 'No,' Jack moaned. 'Nonononono.' You suck on that sensitive spot, on his wrinkly red skin, under his ear. 'Fuck, baby, no... it feels too goo-ahhhh.' Jack's fighting for control over his impending orgasm... and losing.
'Cum inside me, Jackie,' you suckle on his skin, scratching down hard on his ribs with your nails. 'I need it.' 'No, fuck, stop. I gotta pull out, you gotta-ahhhh... you need to get off'. Jack makes an animal groaning sound as you clench down hard on his waving cock, gripping him tight and milking him. 'Ohhh... oh fuck here it comes... noooo please ple- fuck I'm cumming I'm fuckin' cumming ahh ohhh...' Jack's cock explodes inside you, spraying spurt after spurt of his thick, white cum into your cervix. You have the biggest smile on your face as you continue to drain him. One of Jack's eyes has rolled up into his head, and he has no choice but to empty himself into you. Once you've squeezed every last drop out of him, you say oops :( You promise to go to the pharmacy for Plan B. It's not your fault if it's only 95% effective...
Andrew knew you had him right where you wanted him. He'd pressed against your back when he slid into bed after being out with his brothers, and kissed your head. Andrew tried to go to sleep, he really tried, because you looked so cute when you were sleeping and it was unfair to wake you.
But... the smell of your hair had entered his nostrils when he kissed your head, so he had to kiss your neck then. The lingering smell of your perfume, your body wash, you, had stirred something in his pants.
Andrew had whimpered; you were irresistible. The arm he had tenderly placed over your waist had moved north, his hand gently moving over your skin to your breasts. Fuck, he loved your breasts. His large hands had squeezed gently and his thick fingers had found your hardening nipples, and he began to twist them, moving them round between his fingers. Andrew had moaned then, his large cock hardening to a full, insistent erection, pressing insistently against the bottom of your ribs it was so long, and flexing with a little slap every time he thought about fucking you.
But you were asleep..... Andrew thought he could surreptitiously play with you until he came in his pants, sticking his cock against your back with slick cum.
You had awoken and realised what Andrew was doing, and not for the first time.
'You need to cum so badly, baby boy?' You had cooed, as Andrew buried his head into your neck, his soft curly hair pressing against your cheek. You'd felt him nod into your hair and an involuntary groan escape his lips as he pinched down hard on your nipple.
'Seeing as how you're so desperate that you wake me in my sleep, I'll have to fix that problem.'
You both shared a collection of sex toys, some for another day, but you'd slipped your soft hands up and down his impressive, thick length before gently tugging a vibrating cock ring down to the base. The vibration wasn't for you, oh no, it was for Andrew's sensitive balls.
Andrew had let out an, 'mmmffffh,' as you put it on and closed his eyes in pleasure. His large red cock was pulsing within the ring, already drooling from the slit on the mushroomy head. You ran your fingers over it, spreading the wetness over his head.
Andrew threw his head back and moaned. Already, his gorgeous thick cock was becoming more engorged. All of the blood rushed to the area by his insatiable need for you trapping inside his length. The feeling of your fingertips on his sensitive head was so intense that stars danced at the edge of his vision, and his cock twitched in response, gently slapping his stomach.
'Bunny,' he groaned. 'Look at me,' you whispered, encouraging the eye contact Andrew sometimes found hard. 'Andrew,' you placed your hand on his. He looked up. 'Enjoy this, it's gonna feel nice.'
Andrew nodded, his eyes searching yours and, finding what he was looking for in them, then smiled shyly.
You kept running your fingers up and down the shaft, dancing them, Andrew's face becoming a deeper and deeper shade of red. 'Ugghhhhh,' he groaned. 'That's sensitive. ' 'Good,' you smiled, concentrating on the underside of the shaft and the big red vein protruding from the soft skin. You kissed him, open mouthed kisses, and he moaned into your mouth. 'Yeah,' he panted. 'Yeaaahhhh...'
You used the little control to turn the vibrations on. Andrew froze immediately, biting his lip and making a low, 'ohhhhh... ohhhhhh... oh-ohhhhh,' sound, deep in his throat.
'Does that feel good?' You asked, rubbing your fingers so lightly, too lightly, around the sensitive head of Andrew's engorged cock. 'Mmhmmm,' Andrew, your Andrew, nodded desperately. 'Fuck, it feels good.'
'Touch me,' you whispered, bringing his palm back onto your breast. As Andrew pawed at and palmed your breast, kneading into it with his fingers, the vibrations stimulating his sensitive balls. They tightened in response, pleasure coursing through him.
By now his cock was purple and angry, bloated and waving helplessly into the air. Andrew made tiny thrusts into nothing. 'I wanna cum so bad,' he moaned, grunting as he humped the air like a dog.
'Not yet, not like this,' you whispered, letting a stream of drool run out of the side of your mouth and then spitting into your hand. Andrew's eyes nearly rolled back. 'Oh, mommy,' he whispered. You used your wet fist to begin tugging at his cock, feeling yourself soaking your panties. 'Yeah?' 'Yeahhhh... oh yeah.... fuck,' Andrew gabbled.
'You feel so good and that makes you think of mommy?' You tease without mercy whilst he's at his most vulnerable. Andrew's eyes were blown out and his mind had gone. 'Yeah,' he moaned, 'you're mommy. Mommy's making my nice place fe-,' he shifted, '... feel so- fuck- goooood.' Andrew practically cried then last word.
'Yes she is,' you cooed in a baby voice. 'You just let it allll out. Are you gonna cum for mommy?' Andrew groaned, his grip on your nipple now a vice.
'Ye-yeah,' Andrew hiccuped, 'huhhhh....' Andrew's eyes scrunched and he paused humping... but nothing happened. Andrew grunted and thrust his hips harder in the air, and nothing happened. 'I can't,' Andrew slumped back. 'Ah-aaahhhh... but I really need to.'
You shimmied down the bed and Andrew never took his eyes off you for a second, although he did miss your breast. He was such a mommy's boy.
'You really need to?' You asked, gently flicking your tongue across the leaking slit on his mushroomy head. 'Fuuuuuuck,' Andrew's hips bucked into the air, his cock bouncing off his stomach with a wet slop. You gave little kitten licks all around his purple head. You didn’t need to hold his cock up, it was angrily doing it all by itself.
You could feel the buzzing on your tongue from the vibrator. You stifled a smile, the speed of it was pretty relentless. It echoed through his abs and balls, he could feel the vibrations everywhere, in his very core.
'Oh I'm gonna, I'm gonna....' You waited as Andrew's back arched, his hands making thick fists next to his huge thighs, his ties curling and uncurling. His groans got higher and higher pitch, 'huh... huh.. huh.... huurgghhhh.'
You removed your tongue from his cock. Andrew thrust his cock uselessly around but nothing happened. 'No!' He cried out, surprisingly loud for him. He looked at you through half-lidded eyes, his neck stretching sideways. 'Please.' Andrew begged.
You threw your head back and laughed. You pretended to think about it. '... Nah.' Andrew cried out, slamming his head back against the pillows.
You took him back in your mouth, your tongue flattening and curling around the underside of his cock so spit rinsed all over it. You could feel every sensitive, pulsing vein. Andrew cried out at how tight and wet your mouth was, struggling to take the last third of him in.
Andrew wrapped his fingers in your hair and tugged. When you didn't move, he pulled your head down on it by your hair. As your nose met the vibrating base, Andrew groaned loudly and his hips rutted up to meet you, hitting against the sponge at the back of your throat.
You coughed and gasped, accidentally doing a swallowing motion. It made you retch but the sensation of you swallowing his sensitive cock was making him see white light. 'You're going to kill me,' he moaned.
As soon as his fingers relaxed a little, you pulled your head off and coughed. As you choked, you realised Andrew was past the point of caring, obsessed only with chasing his high.
You shimmied back up the bed, kissing him. 'Fuck, that feels good,' Andrew moaned, his cock waving uselessly at the ceiling. 'Please.' He begged. You turned the vibrations back down to normal. You kissed him as he groaned into your mouth. 'Ohhh, ohhh, ohhhhhhhhh,' his hands were either side of your face. 'Your pretty eyes,' he whispered. 'Play with me.'
You licked at his tongue, wiping the thick pre-cum into his mouth so he would taste and swallow it.
'I love you mommy... I mean bunny, I mean...'
'You mean mommy,' your voice dropped dangerously low. 'You need mommy's warm, tight cunt to push your cock into, somewhere wet and safe to hide.' Andrew groaned, nodding like a good boy. 'You need mommy's tits, filled with milk to suckle and dribble on.' Andrew's eyes rolled back into his head, his mouth slack, still thrusting uselessly into the air.
'You need mommy to make your...' you moved closer to his ear, '....nice place feel all good, and special, and ohhh just let it go for me...'
Andrew's back arched as he rutted wildly. Nothing happened and Andrew's cock was straining against his cock ring. His face was purple now.
'It hurts...' he whined. You looked down, it did look like the blood was all backed up. You turned the vibrations off and Andrew's body slumped down. 'Look at you, baby boy,' you cooed. 'You're so big against that little ring. Look at you, all grown up.' You licked the inner shell of his ear. 'Mommy's so proud of you.'
You gently touched the flaming, sensitive skin. Andrew's eyes widened and he started panting, bucking against your fingertips. 'Such a big boy. Too big for your mommy now...'
Andrew's head whipped round as he shook it wildly. 'Nuh-huh! Mommy no. I'm not too big.'
You placed sucky licky kisses all over his jaw and down his neck as you played your fingers over his mushroomy head. 'Oh, I think you might be,' you breathed against his skin, your other hand reaching down to his huge, uncomfortably full balls. 'You're not gonna fit inside mommy's tiny pussy now. It's so sad...'
Andrew whined in displeasure, then groaned as you began to tickle his balls, playing with them in your hand. 'Ohhh, ohhhh...' Andrew's breathing came erratically now and you were soaking wet.
'I'm gonna cum,' Andrew groaned. 'Fuck- ohhh I'm gonna cum.'
'You're too big and full,' you teased as you played. 'Your cock would be pushing right up against my guts. You'd be in my cervix...'
Andrew's eyes squeezed tight shut. 'Yeah...'
'You know you have hyperspermia... if you came, there'd be no room...'
'Yeaahhh...'
'It'd squelch out of my mouth.'
Yea-aahhh-ohhh.'
'Like this,' you drooled into his mouth.
'Fuck, I'm cum- I'm cumming,' Andrew moaned.
You immediately let go of his sensitive cock and Andrew cried. His cock waved around uselessly, stuttering at the ceiling.
Andrew, who'd climbed to the precipice, a feeling so much more intense than ever before, plummeted back to the ground at the denial.
Andrew started to cry from overstimulation.
'Nononono,' you soothed. 'Come here, shhh shh shhhh.' You removed the cock ring carefully. Andrew gasped as it was removed. His bulbous, engorged cock was full of blood and intimidating to look at. You could hardly wait.
You moved so you lay down beneath Andrew. He caged you in with his arms. You took his massive cock in your hands and placed it against your clit.
'Mmmfuck... mommy, you're so wet.' Andrew's eyes fluttered as his sensitive skin slid against yours. You felt warm and safe.
'Make yourself feel good,' you whispered.
Andrew began to slide between your slick folds, bottom to top, whimpering each time the head pressed against your bud. His cock was slathered in you.
He lifted a leg over his shoulder, pressing you down in a mating stance. He couldn't go any faster, it felt so sensitive it was painful, but that just made it feel better.
Andrew's balls scrunched. 'Please,' he pleaded, his eyes crossing in the middle. 'Pleaaaase.'
You helped him line his cock up and Andrew pushed the head in. It was huge. You felt it stretch you out to a size you weren't sure you could take. You fucking loved it.
'Oh fuck,' Andrew grunted, 'huh, uhhh, uhhh,' pushing himself in slowly. 'Oh fuck, you feel good. Oh you-you feel so fucking good...'
Andrew's movements were so gentle, he couldn't push himself all the way in.
'I told you you would be too big for mommy,' you whispered, your eyes meeting his.
Andrew lost it. 'Oh, I'm cumming.' It felt so good he couldn't shout above a whisper. One eye was half rolled up into his head. 'Mommy, mommy...'
Andrew ever so gently rocked his hips, his cock moving slowly, only able to push inches and inches inside you from sensitivity, as spurts of hot cum filled your insides. There was so much you could feel it painting you.
You pulled Andrew's face from your neck, hot and heavy kisses as you swallowed his soft moans, hands squeezing so tightly as they ran over his shoulders. 'Thank you mommy, oh thank you, thank youuu.'
'Good boy, Andrew... you're such a good boy.'
He groaned at being called a good boy. As Andrew carried on finishing, his cum started squelching out in rivers, coating his own cock in a flood of his thick warm cum. 'Yeah,' Andrew moaned. 'Yeaahhhh....' You gave him the best orgasm of his life.
Contains: gross money sex! stripper role play, mean! Pope (I never write him mean!), p in v, porn mention, engagement mention, cum play
--🩷--
Pope empties the bag on your shared bed. He'd told Craig and Deran you were splitting the cuts before you grabbed his hand, giggling, and dragged him off to the bedroom. The usually tidy and hygienic bed was covered in money, gold coins, and jewellery. It was layers thick. You insisted Pope put a balaclava on instead of the mask because it was filthy. Through the black fabric you could only see his hazel eyes and his soft lips. He kisses you immediately, licking sloppily into your mouth and sloshing across your tongue. He presses you down onto the mattress, spreading the money around you like a snow angel. Your uniform was a puddle on the floor. Pope was completely naked bar the balaclava, looking like the dangerous criminal he was; like a stranger, an intruder in your bedroom. His cock is furious; angrily slapping against his stomach. The gun he held to your mouth and made you suck, up and down up and down, pressed against the back of your throat, was probably unloaded by now... right? He had clicked the safety off before he'd pressed it to your closed lips. 'Here comes the aeroplane,' he'd whispered in a baby voice.
Pope slips down your body, kissing your skin as he goes, until he reaches your hips. He gawks at your glossy cunt and drools; you're slick and needy. He grabs fistfuls of bills and rains them down on your stomach like a stripper. 'I've paid, now spread 'em,' A long lick from bottom to top, Pope's curling and dragging his tongue through your wetness until it was collected in his mouth. He opens it to show you before drinking it down. Pope's tongue lavishes a few tight circles of your clit before it dives inside you, swirling around the coin. You fist the sheets and moan. 'If you wanna marry me,' he growled, 'you gotta do better than that, bunny. Loosen up.' Pope uses his elbow to widen your thighs. His tongue pressed all against your left inner side, but the coin was lodged in the way of your right. ''sssgonna have to stay there forever,' Pope's low voice mumbled against your cunt, lazily giving you big licks. 'Your net worth just went up.'
You panic but Pope interlocks his fingers, cracking his knuckles ready. Completely unnecessary! He entered you with one thick finger, then two, still licking you. It doesn't take long. 'Uhh... fuck... oh Andrew... I'm gonna cu-cummm.' 'There you go, let it allll out for me.' As you came and your muscles relaxed, Pope scooped his fingers around it and prised it gently from you. ''ssa yes then?' He crawled back up to you and suckled your neck, his balaclava sopping from you. 'Yes!' you cried. 'I wanna be Mrs Cody!' Pope gave you nasty kisses, all saliva and your own cum. 'Good girl, holding it in for me. My fiancé... you did so good.'
He reached around to find a ring by the side of your head and gently pushes it onto your finger. His eyes never leave yours. 'Am I getting someone else's ring?' You laughed. 'Course not,' Pope shook his head. 'This one's yours.' 'You bought me a ring already?' Your eyes water. 'I've had it for a year now.' Pope murmured, kissing your temple. 'This,' he held up the defiled coin, 'is reimbursement.'
He pushes you over until you were bent with your ass in the air. Your glistening cunt was exposed and presented to him. The side of your face is smushed down into thousands of dollar bills as you look back at him. Pope nudged himself to your entrance and roared as he entered you, and you're writhing, fisting the sheets. Pope is pushing handfuls of bills over the small of your back, and you wriggle your ass side to side. Pope growls as his cock throbs inside you. You hear a click and see his phone snapping a picture of you being fucked doggy style; Pope in a balaclava and you face down in money. 'It's our engagement photo, bunny. You can post it on instagram so all your little friends can see your pretty ring.'
Gold bars shifted beneath your knees. Pope growled with every thrust as he pounded you from behind and, as hard as he tried, he just couldn't last. 'We're fuckin' engaged,' he was grunting like a boar again, snorting with each thrust. 'I'm jus' takin' whasssmine... ugghh-hhhh pl-please... oh yeah right fuckin' there.' He squealed like a pig as he emptied his balls into you.
As he's panting lying next to you, he scoops his fingers into your sloppy cunt. Pope pulls them to your lips, circling the seam of your mouth. They smell like cum and the iron of coins. 'Suck, there's my good girl.' He's using his rough bedroom voice. You suck on his fingers, smearing them with your sticky, glittery lipgloss. You pull his balaclava off and scratch his auburn curls, sticking everywhere. As you kiss, Pope continues fingering your cunt, scooping out knuckles' worth of his cum and jerking his hand. Cum flies from his fingers and splatters across the money; bills, coins, and bars.
Pope slaps your clit. 'This is mine. You're all mine. Who owns you?' 'You.' 'Say it like you mean it.' 'You.' 'Again.' 'You!' Pope makes it rain; money scattering all over you. He carefully places a gold bar over each of your tits, tongue sticking out in concentration, and one in a line from your stomach to the mound of your cunt. 'Who's bought you?' You licked inside his mouth. 'You. I'm yours. I'm your cut.'
Contains: gun mention, p in v, m orgasm, hiding gold coins... engagement mention
--🩷--
Pope's pulling a bank heist but you're the teller. You got the job a few months ago under a fake name, learning the codes and where the keys are. Everyone outside is on their knees. Craig and Deran have guns pointed at them, their phones collected in a bag.
The manager had already triggered the call to the police and they are on their way. The alarms are screaming as Pope presses you up against the vault door. He's inside you, balancing you up against the cold metal, and bouncing you up and down on him. His brute strength holds you up like you weigh nothing; just a little doll.
It would be hard for anyone to hear Pope's grunts and your screams as he fucks you. Your nails rake uselessly over his thick black overalls.
The security cameras are picking it all up but you'll just download the footage then scrub it from the server later. Your usual soft, tender Andrew is currently Pope with a laser-sharp focus. His usual soft eyes, reserved only for you, are dead shark eyes. As you stare into them, your excitement triples. He's looking at you like a piece of meat. The passive expression on his face makes him look bored; even uninterested. His grunts are the only giveaway that he's even enjoying this.
Pope's close, tensing and his bruising grip on your hips tightened. His face is distorted behind the plastic; he looks like a violent stranger. An intruder. A terrifying criminal. As you lean forward and find his lips on the other side of his frosted mask, you give them sloppy kisses through the plastic. He cums faster than he thought from the depravity, watching your glittery pink lipgloss smear across his fogged-up mask. He slams your pelvis against his, all of his length inside you and pushing against your cervix. 'Take it... yeah just like that... fucking take it.' And you just have to take it as he grunts like a boar with every twitch of his cock, spraying more and more of his warm, white cum into your cunt. Pulling his glove off, he tries to finger fuck his cum back into you so as not to spill.
He shoves his glove back on and gets to throwing money, gold bars and jewellery into the big black bags. He picks up a gold coin and gives you a smile. 'This is for your engagement ring.' Your gasp was audible and tears flood your eyes. Pope presses his mask to your face and licks it, wishing it was your mouth. He frees just his fingers, slipping them up your uniformed skirt and under your panties. You held your breath. 'They'll never find it here,' Pope growled. Before you can protest, his fingers widen you out, rubbing side to side across your warm, sloppy insides. As his touch in your already sensitive cunt makes you cum, your muscles relax before they tense. Pope uses the opportunity to push in the gold coin. Your eyes widen in fear. 'Don't worry,' Pope almost groaned, the outline of his already hardening cock pressing furiously against his overalls. 'I'll get it out later with my tongue.' You started to cum again from the pressure and Pope shook his head. 'Nuh-huh, bunny. Gotta hold it in. No more cumming. Keep it safe so I can marry you.'
You fizz up some bleach bombs ready to hide any evidence of dna (especially leaked cum!). Pope bites down on his lip, clenching his teeth, and cocks his rifle.
You begin crying as Pope followed you back on to the floor. Pope has the loaded gun against the back of your skull and clicks the safety off. Your cunt instantly floods, knowing any slight movement could trigger an explosion and kill you instantly. 'Don't try anything stupid!' Pope barked at the crowd. 'Or the little slut here gets it!' Your thighs tighten. 'Good fucking girl, keep those legs closed for me,' his voice drops low and rough into your ear. He walks you to the main entrance where Craig and Deran join you. Before they start to run, Pope murmurs 'so sorry,' before throwing you to the floor. As the police descend on the bank, and your fake sobs begin, the coin weighed heavily in your womb. Through the chaos around you, you were thinking just how you were gonna thank Pope for the engagement later.
Contains: p in v, m orgasm, premature ejaculation, prolonged orgasm, overstimulation, hyperspermia, saliva, a little icky!
--🩷--
You'd been edging Pope for hours. You hadn't seen him in over a week whilst you'd been away with work. Pope had missed you so much. His heavy balls had physically ached to hold so much cum for that long, but he'd wanted to save it for you.
Pope had only been inside you for a few minutes before his chest was working too hard and fast. 'Uhhh... no... no,' Pope moaned, trying to last. He had you pressed against the mattress and his face was red and screwed up, desperately trying to hold his orgasm back.
'Give it to me,' you whispered. 'I need it.'
Fuck, that didn't help him. Pope was embarrassed, he hadn't made you cum yet, but he was helpless to stop it. You felt too good and tight around him. He tried to slow down, still his hips, but it was no use. He was a goner. Biting down hard on his lip, garbled moans left his mouth. 'Oh fuck, oh God, I'm so ssssorry, so so- oh I'm cummimg.'
He was past the point of no return. Letting out a primal 'urghhhh', Pope pinned your legs down, folded at the knee, and came.
Spurt after spurt pulsed from his twitching cock inside you. You could feel it settling all warm and nice in your tummy. He felt like his balls were deflating. The sensation just kept rolling. From the withdrawal and then teasing him all day, edging him with your palm against his jeans, you had broken him.
'There you go,' you moaned, scratching across his back.
'Ahhh... ah-hhh-hhhh...' Pope writhed on top of you. Ten seconds passed and Pope's eyes were starting to roll back. He was grunting like a boar, still rutting into you. The white-knuckle grip on your hips was beginning to shake. 'Mmmf... oh fuck yeah.'
You could feel his cum starting to leak out of your cunt everytime Pope's cock nearly pulled all the way out, before he fucked it all back in. Your warm, tight cunt was sloppy from his cum. Pope felt like he was fucking cream sauce and a ring was forming at the base of his cock.
'Noooo,' Pope whimpered to his cock, 'stop... please stop.' He was too sensitive and trembling from overstimulation but he helplessly continued. The more you clenched your pussy muscles tight around him, the more Pope's moans turned to low, guttural groans.
Shuddering, Pope pulled out. He hoped it would stop... but he kept spraying like a fire hydrant onto your stomach. It shot out fast and was running down your ribs in streams.
You couldn't believe he was still cumming but he was helpless to stop it. He tried squeezing down on the base of his cock but it just seemed to make the the spurts more pressurised.
The twenty second mark passed and the prolonged orgasm Pope was stuck in started to fade. You gently reached out and stroked the head of his cock. 'Fuck - no!' Pope cried out, his cock pulsing in your hand and waving upwards.
The contact was painful. Pope's ass cheeks clenched and released with every throb and his auburn curls were dampening.
It wasn't thick anymore; it was runny as spray after spray left him. Your tits were dripping and gooey. Pope was whimpering. His balls scrunched with every pump. Finally, finally, the heavy storm turned to rain, which faded into rain drops.
He flopped down on top of you, panting and exhausted. You could still feel him twitching; his cock slipping on your soaked stomach. As he slowly softened, the messy cum streaks dried in his trimmed pubic hair and Pope hid in your neck. His cum streamed down his balls and dribbled onto the sheets. It melted into the load still pouring out of your cunt; made soupy with your wetness. Everywhere was sopping with him.
'Fuck,' you breathed. 'I get a big reward once I'm through with you.' Pope kissed you, almost embarrassed, with a wet, sloppy tongue. Saliva pooled from his mouth into yours. Watching Pope falling apart like that and the filthy kiss made you want to go again. Pope's sticky fingers automatically reached to twirl in your hair as you kissed, and he glued several strands together. '...mmmfsorry.'
Contains: p in v, m orgasm, f orgasm, romance, f oral, m oral
Author's Note: I absolutely loveeee writing this series! It is so much fun and Pope is so husband 🩷 Thank you for showing it so much love - it means the world
Part 1 | Part 2
gif: bullet-prooflove
--🩷--
You'd made it to the bedroom. You had led Pope after you down the hallway. The desperation of before hadn't left; it had intensified.
Your soft fairy lights glowed like amber fireflies in the quiet darkness of your room.
Pope stood in the doorway, breathing heavily. 'I've wanted you,' his voice came out deep and low, 'for so long.'
His rough voice was thick, his mouth barely moving around the words. His beautiful eyes gazed slowly between yours.
'Andrew,' you breathed. 'C'mere.'
Your fingers threaded through his. They were warm, like Pope always was. They were thick around yours, and two of them slightly damp.
It made your stomach flip.
Pope followed like he would follow you anywhere. You sat down on the bed and pulled him towards you. Pope lowered himself down next to you and slowly turned to face you. Each of you had a leg tucked beneath you, and one hanging to the floor. A nervous half-commitment.
Pope's auburn curls were still wet along his forehead and mussed from your fingers. 'Andrew, I've wanted you since the day I met you,' you confessed in a whisper.
Pope's eyes turned darker as the words landed. His breathing was heavy, his chest working hard. 'Fuck,' he whispered.
The way you said his name broke him. It wasn't his name said in passing or in public. It wasn't calling out to a friend. You were the only one to call him Andrew. The way you said it this evening, when he told you he wouldn't last, did something to him.
You saw Pope was in his head so you leaned in. Pope raised his left hand, so his fingers curled into your soft hair. He felt you stiffen then relax against the sensation, and it did something to his lower stomach.
Rather than kissing you straightaway, he looked into your eyes, breathing hard, then dipped his head. Pope brought his face down almost, almost, to your bare collar bone before pausing. You held your breath as his lips stilled, inches from your warm skin.
You felt tingles of anticipation in the slowness, the heavy exhales of Pope against you. Then Pope moved his head.
He slowly traced the outline of your shoulder and up the side of your neck, never touching you. You moved your head to the left in anticipation; granting Pope more space to kiss if he wanted... but he didn't want. He wanted to make you beg.
There had been so much patience, longing, unknowing... he wanted to break you.
Pope paused by your mouth, inches from you, gazing at your mouth.
'Andrew,' you whispered.
Pope felt his cock twitch in response. He nearly had you. Nearly.
As you leant in to close the gap, he pulled back slightly. Pope gave you enough to change your breathing but not enough. He wanted to make you crave him. He watched your mouth chase his for a few inches. Then you made a sound.
There it was.
A small, wounded cry. An impatient wanting. A desperation.
He knew what he'd done to you.
'Please.' Your voice was tiny in the darkness.
Pope breathed out, gave a small half-smile, and then pushed his lips against yours.
Your sigh of relief was swallowed by Pope within your open-mouth kisses. They were slow and deep. Pope moaned a 'yeahhh' quietly into your mouth.
It completely wrecked you.
Pope pushed you gently onto the bed, until you were pressed against the mattress. He lowered himself down on you, his forearms bracketing his weight.
You felt the warm solidity of his body above you. Even with the suspension, his swollen cock pressed insistently between your legs.
As his boxers made contact with your wetness, Pope made a strangled noise and opened his eyes. He looked up at the ceiling, his head tipped back, and bit down hard on his lip.
You could feel the bulging outline of his length and the firm press of its head against your clit.
A soft moan left the back of Pope's throat. You slowly raised your hips, pressing yourself into him. You were very aware that you were naked beneath him.
He moved the kiss to your cheek and down along your jaw. The warmth of his lips pressing against your skin made you shiver. He sucked the sensitive spot beneath your ear, gently rolling his teeth against it.
You moaned, feeling wetness rushing to your cunt. Pope made a soft sound in response and began to kiss down your neck and down your chest, pausing to roll his tongue over your nipples.
He settled between your thighs. He looked up at you with devastating eyes. 'Why don't you turn over?' His voice was as rough as sandpaper.
'Yeah?' You asked, uncertain.
'Yeah... if you want to,' Pope whispered gently but his eyes were black.
You rolled over onto your tummy and settled yourself against your pillow.
Pope moved you gently, but with incredible ease, up against him, so your back was arched along his thick, hairy thighs, and your hips were pointing into the air at bare chest level.
A rumble escaped Pope's chest. It sounded like a broken whine. Then his mouth was on you.
Pope pressed his tongue against you in a flat kiss; warm and devastatingly wet against your sensitive skin.
He waited to hear the sharp inhale, the slight shudder of anticipation that ran through you, before his mouth began to move.
It was slow... achingly and intentionally slow.
A long lick from your sensitive clit up to your entrance, where you were still shimmering and smeared with yourself.
Pope circled his tongue against you, gathering up your wetness and swallowing it with reverence. The whimper Pope made against your skin as he tasted you sent vibrations through the centre of you.
You felt yourself clench, your muscles tighten, and Pope was losing it. He began to kiss you, licking and gently sucking along your entrance, slowly increasing pace as he he moved his mouth like he was kissing your face.
His tongue gently lapped at you and teased itself around, but not quite into, you.
You groaned and had to stop yourself from pushing your hips back into his face.
'Is this good?' Pope murmured from the side of his mouth. His lips didn't leave your skin for a second.
'Mmmm, yeah,' you moaned. You were still trying to control yourself.
Pope hummed in response and opened his jaw a little wider, his tongue reaching down to your clit. You needed him there and the relief when he touched you was overwhelming.
You sighed into your pillow and couldn't help but back into his face a little.
'Ohh, there it is,' Pope moaned. His warm, wet tongue made devastating circles against you. His hands held firmly onto your hips to support you.
'Use my face.' Pope's voice was almost shy.
You rolled your hips a little, testing, and the sensation was incredible. You couldn't stop a soft sound from escaping.
'Oh fuck,' Pope's voice melted to liquid steel again. 'That's it. Good fucking girl.'
You couldn't help but let out another sound. You clapped your hand to your mouth.
'No no no, baby.' One of Pope's hands reached down to gently push your hand away from your face. 'Nuh-huh. Wanna hear you. Let me know when I'm right where you need it.'
You could have come right there. You breathed his name.
Pope was extremely hard from seeing you fall apart like this for him, and his cock twitched in his boxers from hearing you say his name like that.
As you gently rubbed yourself against Pope's face, his stubble grazed the inside of your thighs. It prickled in a delicious pain. As he moved his face to run his tongue over your clit, sucking gently, his nose slid between your soaking wet pussy.
The tip of his tongue teased with inconsistent movements, spelling 'mine', and sucking gently. Pope was giving just enough to keep you desperate without letting you come. He wanted to hear you beg him for it.
You couldn't take it anymore. It felt animalistic and vile the way you were grinding against Pope's face.
'Please,' you gasped.
'Please what?' Pope turned his face in slow circles so his tongue wrapped around your clit and his stubble and nose brushed against all of your bare skin. You felt so exposed and it thrilled you.
'Please, Andrew. Don't stop,' you panted. 'Can I cum? Please.'
'Say my name.' Pope hummed against your skin, which was soaking the bottom half of his face. He couldn't believe this was actually happening.
'Andrew,' you moaned.
'Again.'
'Oh, Andrew,' you cried.
A rough, guttural sound climbed out of Pope's chest and he applied more pressure, eating your pussy like he was making out with you... faster, harder.
You couldn't help but buck your hips against the sensation.
This was all Pope ever wanted; hearing his name fall from your lips in a broken sigh, moaning it like that, as he took you apart.
Pope pulled you closer to him, his hands dragging from your hips to the outsides of your thighs and spreading them further apart.
You felt it building in your stomach. You could hear the noises of Pope's lips sucking on your wetness in the quiet of your bedroom.
Your hips bucked involuntarily again and Pope pushed his face further into you, breathless, dragging his head from side to side.
'Fuck, I'm gonna cu-...' You came with a loud cry and shuddered, wildly rubbing your pussy against Pope's face.
You heard a low, muffled growl from behind you as the world faded out for a second. There was only the warmth of Pope's face, the wetness of his tongue, and the motion of him lapping up your cum.
As your hearing came back, Pope's licks slowed to small kisses. He peppered them gently across the insides of your thighs until he slowly leant back.
He helped you slide back down his body and over so you were facing him.
Pope was panting hard as he looked at you. His eyes were pools of black and they moved insatiably across your face. Pope looked into each of your eyes in turn, ablaze.
You could see the outline of his impossibly hard cock, straining painfully against his boxers. You felt faint with anticipation.
Pope's face glittered with your wetness.
'Fuck.' Pope's voice was thick with want and disbelief. 'You did so good. You taste so good.'
He lay down besides you and wrapped his arms around you to kiss you. It was deep, slow, and heart breakingly intimate.
You could taste yourself on his tongue, on his lips, on the roof of his mouth.
You pushed your fingers into his hair; now wild from making a mess of you - from ruining you.
Pope's eyes closed in pleasure as your fingertips scratched his scalp, and he leant his head into them.
Your breathing became more steady, and the kiss slowly ended. Pope's fingers traced your jaw, twirling into your hair.
'I wanna make you feel good,' you whispered into his mouth.
Pope whimpered and his cock twitched against your thigh.
'Yeah?' He murmured, his voice low and rough.
'Yeah.' You kissed down his neck, pausing to gently lick and suck the sensitive spot behind his ear.
Pope groaned, back arching involuntarily, and his cock throbbed up against his stomach.
Your kisses continued down his collarbone and onto his chest. You lightly rubbed your closed lips against his nipple and all of his muscles tightened in response.
You continued down his abs as you slipped down the bed until you were at the soft trail of auburn hair below his belly button.
Pope sighed in anticipation, fists clenching and unclenching by his side as you teased along the waistband of his boxers.
You licked the inside the sculpted V of his hips. You were soaking yourself again. You couldn't believe that Pope looked like this the whole time you've been friends. You've wanted him so badly for so long, and he was always hot; stretching his tees and filling out his slim jeans. But you never could have imagined he looked quite this good... this view was all for you.
His soft skin was warm and he smelled like cologne, laundry softener, and fresh sweat. The pheremones nearly made your eyes roll back.
You glanced up at him. Pope was looking at you, biting down hard on his bottom lip.
'Can I?' You asked, toying with his boxers; scrunching the soft fabric between your fingers.
You could see the smear of pre-cum across the centre of them. A widening, damp brush stroke with white pearls seeping through.
'Uh-huh,' Pope whispered.
You gently tugged on his boxers. Pope lifted his hips to help you pull them down and away. His cock sprang free and you looked at it for the first time.
All of these years being friends with Pope, and all the tension of grinding on him, could not have prepared you for this.
He was big. He seemed to know it, as his face flushed an adorable shade of red.
'Don't worry,' Pope murmured. 'We can go really slow.'
He was always so sweet, even when talking about something so sexy, so filthy. You didn't want him to feel self-conscious; especially when the size of him turned you on. He was perfect. 'I'm gonna take it all for you.' You made big doe eyes at him and licked slowly across your bottom lip.
'Oh my God,' Pope moaned, eyes rolling back. 'You're such a good girl. Take it. Take it all.' His eyes flashed black. 'Take it like I owe you some money.'
Heat exploded within your stomach.
You sank between his thighs, which Pope spread for you. You kissed all down the inside of one, then the other, knee to hips.
Pope moaned and tensed his thighs. His fists made gentle clenches, the sheets between his fingers.
As you gazed up at him and batted your lashes, you gave little kitten licks around the head. Pope groaned as fire shot through him. He didn't realise quite how close he was after licking you. The intense eye contact was setting shooting stars inside his chest.
His cock was drooling pre-cum from his sensitive hole, and you lapped it up. It tasted like nothing like you've had previously. You wanted to drink it.
Watching Pope's eyes widened and his jaw drop slightly did something to you. You wanted to watch him unravel. You wanted to finally see what your reserved, serious, dangerous friend Pope looked like when he was trembling from your touch... coming apart beneath your tongue.
You took the angry, purple head in your mouth and swirled your tongue around it. The sound that left Pope's mouth was indescribable. You wrapped a few of your fingers around the base of his cock and slowly sank your mouth down on him. Pope's eyes became glassy. His hands sank to your head and he wrapped his fingers tightly in your hair.
Using the flat your tongue on the underside of his length, you curled and swirled it, concentrating on the sensitive skin beneath the spongy head.
Pope groaned and his fingers tightened slightly in your hair. You indicated for him to guide your head to set the pace.
He was very gentle at first. Respectful. The amount of times he had fantasised about moving your head along him, your mouth warm and wet, until he spilled on his stomach, was countless. Now he finally had you, he was trembling.
Your fingers remained around his thick base, brushing the trimmed thatch of auburn hair, to cover the inches you could not fit inside your mouth. Your slow movements on Pope's cock became faster underneath Pope's guiding fingers.
'Uuuurgghh,' Pope grunted, finally thrusting up into you a little, and driving himself to the back of your throat. If he carried on, he wasn't going to last more than a minute.
All Pope had ever known was rough, transactional sex. But looking at you now, eyes wide and looking up at him, mascara running a little, something in his heart gave a pang.
You attempting a swallow of him down the back of your throat felt fucking amazing. But looking into your eyes and kissing you felt better.
Pope gently caressed your cheek, and lifted you from him.
You looked confused for a second and gently kissed his cock, suckling on the tip. 'You taste so good,' you moaned. 'Please let me, Andrew.'
'C'mere.' Pope pulled you up and wrapped his arms around you. He gave you a kiss, pressed against his bare chest. Skin to skin.
Pope gently pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
'You're so beautiful,' he whispered, and kissed you again. It was deep and slow and intimate.
He swallowed down the words he really wanted to say as he kissed you.
Pope rolled you over so you were on your back. 'Please can I fuck you now?' His rough voice was gravelly and hushed. 'I can't wait any longer.'
You wrapped your hands around his neck, nestling your fingers within his soft curls. You took a second to take in his soft hazel eyes, his dusting of freckles, his gentle wrinkles where the sun doesn't quite reach. This was it. Andrew. Your Andrew.
'Please, Andrew,' you pleaded.
Pope moaned at his name. The way you said it tonight was ruining him.
He gently brushed himself along your folds, slick with your wetness and his saliva, and moaned as his bare cock rubbed against your clit. You bit your lip and lifted your hips slightly.
Pope bracketed himself above you on his corded forearms, either side of your head, so that he did not press all of his weight down onto you.
He gently nudged his head against your hole and inside. The first pop felt incredible. You couldn't stop a soft moan from leaving you. Pope whimpered and pressed his forehead against yours.
He gently rolled his hips until he was halfway inside. You felt impossibly full and stretching out to make room.
'Are you okay?' Pope whispered as he flexed his hips to pull out again.
The teasing was infuriating. You were desperate for him to start fucking you, and his inching just wasn't enough.
'Please,' your begging landed heavy in the quiet of your bedroom.
'Please what?' Pope smirked. This is exactly where he hoped he'd have you.
'Please stop being gentle and fuck me,' you cried.
Pope slammed his hips into you in one rough movement, burying himself to the hilt. He made a wounded sound like he'd been punched in the stomach.
It stole your breath away and you reflexively clenched around him.
'Ohhhh, don't do that.' Pope bit down hard on his lip.
You clenched yourself around him again on purpose.
'Fuck, no, please,' Pope panted. 'Stop.. I'll cum.'
Something about that, the desperation, set your insides alight.
Pope began to move, flexing his hips and rolling against you. His pelvis brushed against your sensitive clit as he thrust inside you. His mouth found yours.
The kisses began deep and heavy, but quickly became faster and filthier as Pope's thrusts became rougher and less precise.
Pope groaned, trying to think of anything else but your warm, wet insides milking his cock. Bare, sensitive, raw skin against skin. You could feel every vein and the mountain range of his thick, round head as he dragged it against you.
'Please,' Pope's voice was broken. 'Oh fuck.'
He whimpered against your cheek. You could feel his cock twitching and pulsing inside of you.
'I'm gonna-' Pope made a series of high-pitched whining sounds.
It made the band of fire in your stomach tighten.
'Are you close?' You whispered, kissing his cheek.
Pope nodded, almost embarrassed, burying his head in your neck.
Your fingertips scratched in his hair. You felt Pope stiffen. You pulled on his curls slightly and he groaned in response.
'Please use your nails on my back,' he begged.
You slid your hands down to his ribs and ran your nails sideways across his damp skin.
'Harder.' Pope's rough voice fought hard to leave his mouth and wobbled.
You raked your fingers up to his shoulders, leaving red marks behind them. Pope growled and moved his hips faster.
His cock was hitting just the right angle and you arched your back in a silent orgasm; too overwhelming to cry out.
'I've got you.' Pope whispered, pressing himself down against you, seeking more of you. His weight pushed you firmly into the mattress. 'Oh fuuuck.'
Your pussy gripped him tight as you came. Pope started to tremble.
'Don't hold it back,' you whispered. Pope moaned in response, holding you closer.
'I'm so close,' he whispered. 'You feel so fuckin' good for me.'
You began scratching his back again and Pope pistoned his hips, his pace now relentless as he pushed you further down into the mattress.
'Please, Andrew,' you whispered in his ear, sucking his neck. Pope moaned and his hips were messy, hitting side to side with sloppy thrusts. 'More... I need you to give it to me.'
Pope groaned, his chest working harder. He had needed this since the party - you were finally going to see his orgasm face in the right, perfect, setting. This is what he wanted; just you and him, in bed, and you begging him to fill you up.
You lifted your hips up to meet him, matching his pace. The extra friction along his cock was overwhelming as you moved in inconsistent circles. You watched Pope's face as you slowly took him apart.
'I need your cum,' you moaned. 'Give it to me. Please fill me up - this pussy is all yours.'
Pope was losing it at your begging.
'All mine?' He grunted. 'You're all mine?'
You noticed the shift from talking about sex to talking about belonging.
'Yes, Andrew,' you moaned, kissing his temple.
'Ohhh fuck, I'm gonna cum.'
'I'm all yours.'
'Ohh... ahh... I'm gonna fuckin' cum-' A series of low groans left Pope's mouth as he gave a few more thrusts and then snapped his hips hard against yours. He stayed there, pressed to the hilt, as his cock twitched and pumped white sprays of his cum inside you.
Pope made a guttural sound before a few high-pitched whimpers, and then sank down onto you.
You kept milking his cock, clench after clench, as Pope groaned and kissed you.
It wasn't gentle but they were no longer filthy and deep either. His kiss had transformed into something else. Something new. Relief, satisfaction, intimacy; a new closeness you had never shared before.
It was unspoken that Pope would stay inside you, even as he softened. He lay his head in the crook of your neck.
Contains; slow burn romance, alcohol mention, fingering, f orgasm
Thank you so, so much for being so lovely and supportive about this fic! I had so much fun writing it and I've really enjoyed writing Part 2. I hope it lives up to Part 1 😭
gif: wesandresons
--🩷--
'Just one more thing,' you pleaded, giving Pope your best puppy dog eyes. 'Just one more.'
How could he say no?
Pope had enjoyed being your fake boyfriend so much. It hurt a lot, in some ways. It wasn't real, for one. All he wanted was to call you his girlfriend. To make you his own and give you everything.
The night hadn't ended how a boyfriend would drop off his girlfriend. The faux relationship obviously didn't extend past your parents' front lawn. There had been a moment of charged silence as Pope's truck sat idling outside your apartment block. For one brief second, Pope thought you might kiss him. His heart banged out of his chest so hard he thought you might hear it.
You had looked into his eyes and the tension was thick enough to feel like fog. But you had just smiled, touched his hand briefly, and left. The outline of your fingers scorched Pope's skin like a burn.
Finally, it hurt because you almost saw his orgasm face. You had spent a good forty minutes grinding against him. Some of it may have been unintentional; it certainly started innocent.
You knew after a while. Pope knows you did. He felt you grinding up against his jeans, trying to press your seam along his length.
It had been painfully hard not to take hold of your hips and rub you along him like a doll until you gushed over his lap and his cock stuttered in his jeans.
But that wouldn't have been very family-friendly.
Plus, you were his friend. He shouldn't be thinking about you in that way... especially not when he lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He shouldn't have started to moan when he was seconds away from cumming in his pants.
His erection hadn't gone down. When it became too uncomfortable and wore down Pope's restraint, he had fucked up into his fist before spilling down his hips and balls, splattering on his stomach. The relief was palpable.
The edging had been almost too much to take.
'What is it?' Pope mumbled, absent-mindedly brushing a soft curl behind your ear. He realised what he was doing and dropped his hand fast, clenching and unclenching his fist by his side.
'Birthday drinks with my cousin before she leaves for college.'
'Okaaay...' Pope waited for the catch.
You gave him a nervous smile, which did nothing to reassure him whatsoever.
'What?' Pope furrowed his brows. He lifted his hand to play with your hair again and caught himself.
'Erm...'
Pope waited patiently as you thought of the best way to sell it. Eventually you settled with just saying it.
'... it's at Deran's bar.'
Fuck.
Pope's brothers were all nice to you, in that distant, crime-family kind of way.
You were happy with that.
But you knew Pope wanted to keep you as separate as possible from that part of his life.
But these drinks were happening, and they were happening at Deran's, whether Pope was there to support / supervise you or not.
'Okay,' Pope nodded once.
'Okay?' You asked in relief.
Pope's eyes gently cast over your face.
'Okay.'
--🩷--
The cousin turned out to be Janie; the one who had fluttered her eyelashes at Pope at the family party.
Pope felt uncomfortable but knew he wouldn't be spending much time with her.
As he held the door open for you and followed you in, the room instantly swallowed you up.
It was dark and loud. More people than you imagined filled the space, which smelled like beer and cigarettes.
Pope put a protective arm around your shoulders as you looked through the crowd. Spotting Janie, you tugged on his shirt. Pope let you lead him over to their table.
He shot a quick glance over at the bar.
Deran was pouring a pint. He must have felt eyes on him because he looked up, making direct eye contact with Pope.
His expression didn't change until he noticed Pope's arm around your shoulder. Deran just raised one quizzical eyebrow at him.
Pope gave a slight shake of his head and carried on following you.
'Janie!' You smiled, and the pretty blonde stood to give you a hug. She looked past you to Pope, who was now linking fingers with you.
You watched in horror as her pupils dilated. 'Andrew!' She leaned past you to curl herself under Pope's flanneled arm, squeezing his chest a bit tighter than necessary.
You felt your heart miss a beat.
Pope didn't like physical contact. Not unless it was with you.
He visibly flinched, which Janie happily didn't notice. Pope moved to stand closer next to you.
Undeterred, Janie flashed you a mischievous smile.
'Shots.'
It wasn't a question.
As she pushed her way through the crowd towards Deran, you looked at the large round table in the middle of the group.
You didn't really know anyone; they were all Janie's friends.
You smiled politely and they returned the favour, continuing their conversation pre arrival.
You settled in to the side opposite Janie's bags, and Pope sat down beside you.
His thick thigh, clad in denim, was warm as it pressed against your own.
You turned to him to smile.
Your breath caught. You could never quite get over just how beautiful Pope was.
Even in his discomfort, his face was glowing in the semi-dark. His sculpted jaw was clean shaven, covered in freckles. Pope was making an effort to appear at ease but you knew him well enough to spot the tension in his shoulders.
Pope could never fully relax. His biceps were always flexed and his eyes continually scanned the room, as if looking out for potential threats.
Pope turned to meet your eyes. As you looked into them, they visibly softened; the way they only ever did with you. He offered you a gentle sideways smile.
You felt your insides turn to slush.
'You look beautiful,' Andrew murmured. His mouth barely moved around the words, and his eyes flicked between each of yours.
Your faces must have been inches apart.
'Sho-oooots!' Janie sang. She brought over a beer each for you and Pope, and a tray full of clear shot glasses.
Your stomach turned looking at them.
'How many did you get?' You laughed.
'Oh,' Janie said, looking down at them in concentration. 'Three each.'
'Three???' You exploded.
'Well, it is a party,' Janie shrugged.
Pope rested a large hand on your bare thigh, just below the hem of your dress.
'You don't need to have them if you don't want to,' he whispered, jaw twitching.
'Erm.... yes, she does.' Janie shook her head, holding out a shot glass past Pope and to you.
Pope searched your face again for any signs of discomfort.
'No, you really don't,' Pope's rough voice was inches from your ear, and you could feel his warm breath on your neck.
'Alright, Dad. Let her choose for herself.'
You took the shot glass from Janie, who looked gleeful.
'I'm not doing three,' you said firmly, 'but... I might do two.'
'Atta girl!' Janie beamed. 'Cheers!'
Everyone held their drinks in the air before downing them.
Before you'd even finished your first, you watched three empty glasses hit the table in front of Pope.
'Jesus,' you whispered, awed.
Pope shrugged, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. You were impressed his face didn't even wince at the burn you felt halfway through your first.
You picked up your second, and Pope's fingers hovered above yours for a moment.
He looked into your eyes, questioning, before pulling them away.
You thought it was sweet. It didn't feel controlling but concerned. You liked Pope feeling protective over you more than you should.
You took the second one and pulled a face. Pope gave you his half-smile, amused.
'We're not all built the same,' you teased. You could feel the burn settling in your lower tummy.
Pope's eyes slowly looked you up and down. 'No,' he agreed. 'You're not.'
--🩷--
'So, what's the deal?' Deran asked as he poured yours and Pope's second pints.
'What do you mean?' You asked.
Deran pulled a face at you. His piercing blue eyes didn't leave a lot of wriggle room.
'You know exactly what I mean.'
You gave a self-conscious half laugh. 'We're just friends.'
Deran placed your pints down on the counter, shaking his head and waving away your bills to indicate a free round.
'That's not what your cousin said.' Deran looked pointedly at you.
'Ohhh.' It dawned on you. 'No, he's just pretending.'
Deran looked at you like you had grown two heads. 'Riiiiight, right. Just "pretending".'
You shook your head, not wanting to give Deran the wrong impression, and unsure as to what Pope had said to him about you.
'We are,' you repeated. 'He's just helping me out with something.'
'Oh, he'd love to help you out of something,' Deran mumbled, looking down at the counter below the bar and wiping at nothing.
'What was that?' You asked.
'Hmm?' Deran looked up at you with a faux innocent face.
'Shut up, Deran,' you laughed.
'No, you shut up.'
You scoffed, picking up your drinks and turning away.
'Pretending is not the same as denial!' He shouted after you.
Pope had been watching you the whole time, making sure no one had stood too close or bothered you. He shifted up and patted the seat next to him.
As soon as you sat, Pope seemed to visibly relax a little. He opened his arm to lean against the booth behind your shoulders. You lay back in the seat, the back of your head resting against his arm.
Pope immediately moved the angle of his forearm to make it more comfortable for you, despite it twisting at an awkward angle for him.
'Andrew,' you whispered, looking up at him.
'Yeah?' Pope replied, looking down at your face.
You focused in on his mouth. The perfect cupids bow framed a full lower lip. You watched at a sliver of tongue rolled over it subconsciously, followed by a bite.
Something inside you keened.
'Yeah?' Pope prompted, searching your face, concerned. 'Are you okay?'
'Yeah,' you replied dreamily. You were a bit fuzzy from the alcohol and the world was softened at the edges like a vignette.
'Good,' Pope murmured, gently touching your face. 'I'm okay, too.'
'So, ANDREW,' Janie interrupted, a little louder than necessary.
'Yeah?' Pope answered her, his eyes not leaving yours for a single second.
The world seemed to have narrowed down to just the two of you.
You could feel your heartbeat in your mouth.
'How often do you work out?' Janie asked. The shots had obviously made her brave, as she reached out and squeezed his bicep.
Yours and Pope's eyes both followed her arm down to where her hand rested on his sleeve.
Janie didn't seem to notice.
'You always look really built.'
You felt sick. You hated Janie touching him, even though you had no claim over him whatsoever... and as far as she knew, Pope was your boyfriend.
'You've met him twice,' you scoffed. 'How is that always?'
Janie looked at you like you were mad.
'Yes, I've seen him twice, and he's looked built twice. That's always.'
Your mouth hung open at her drunk logic. You were well aware her hand was still on Pope's arm.
Pope looked incredibly uncomfortable but unsure of his next move. He didn't want to go with his gut instinct and risk upsetting you by upsetting Janie.
'Can you stop manhandling my boyfriend, please?' Your voice was steady but inside you were shaking. Janie was a pretty girl; it was easy to imagine Pope finding her attractive.
'You saaaay that,' Janie looked at you suspiciously. Your eyes zeroed in on her hand. You could hear the blood whoosh in your ears.
'I do say that.' You were starting to get annoyed.
'Yes, you say that, buuu-ut,' Janie wiggled her perfectly-kept eyebrows at you, 'I've never even seen you guys kiss.'
Your breath caught and you felt Pope stiffen beside you. He gently pulled his arm out of Janie's grasp.
'W-what?' You spluttered, unsure of how to possibly answer that.
'We're just not into PDA,' Pope's rough voice rumbled in her general direction.
'Well, I am,' Janie winked suggestively.
You couldn't bear it. The secondhand embarrassment alone, but the fact she was hitting on Pope so damn hard, right in front of you, made you want to be sick.
A primal need for possession kicked in.
Pope turned to you then. His hazel eyes were ablaze.
You couldn't breathe.
He slowly placed a hand on your jaw and gently cradled it. He began to lean down and in.
Your heart was thumping. There was no bar, no crowd, no Janie. Everything else faded into nothing. There was only you and Pope suspended in the in-between; the liminal space about to mark a before and after your kiss.
You could smell the woody cologne warmed on his neck and his soft laundry detergent. Pope's thigh was still pressed against you, warm and solid.
He gave you every opportunity to run. You didn't.
Pope's face came closer still, until you were inches apart.
Pope closed his eyes for a second, hesitating, savouring the moment.
'Andrew,' you breathed against his mouth. Your lips ghosted against his.
Pope opened his eyes at the whisper of his name, and a soft half-smile tilted the side of his lips against yours... and then he was kissing you.
All your nerve endings sparkled shooting stars across your body.
The kiss was gentle; almost innocent. His lips barely gave any pressure against yours. You moved your head to the side and opened your mouth slightly.
A soft sound escaped the back of Pope's throat, which you lightly swallowed.
Pope's mouth moved on yours with all the magic of a first kiss.
As Pope's lips opened, you kissed a little harder. Your hand found its way to the back of his neck and pulled him closer.
Pope's fingers traced up your throat, setting you alight.
They settled under your jaw again.
The kisses became less public-friendly; open-mouthed which began as soon as the previous one ended.
Your fingers scrunched against Pope's curls and he gave you a soft sigh of relief.
You couldn't believe this was actually happening.
'Alright...' Janie's voice was disjointed, somewhere in the hushed chaos of the background. 'You don't have to be gross about it.'
When you finally pulled away, Pope's eyes were glittering dangerously.
Your fingers threaded through his.
You couldn't look away from him. Your intertwined fingers fell under the table and onto Pope's thigh.
He coughed quietly and shuffled your hands as your knuckles scraped against his jeans.
Your eyes flicked down and you saw how swollen his cock was, straining against his jeans.
'I'm s-sorry.' Pope suddenly looked very shy and vulnerable.
'I'm not,' you gave him a quick kiss on the lips before standing. 'Let's go.'
'What?' Pope asked confused, and still a little dazed from the kiss.
'What?' Janie spat
'Have fun in Cleveland!' You waved, tugging on Pope's hand to follow you.
'Connecticut!'
'Whatever!'
Deran caught your eye as you were leaving and a smug smile spread across his face. 'Just friends, my ass!'
--🩷--
You didn't even make it into your apartment.
Pope walked you backwards and pressed you up against your door. His hands were running all over you, down your sides and across your back.
These kisses were more urgent. Pope had only needed to look at your mouth for a second. You felt yourself get shamefully wet as you pulled his face closer to yours.
Pope squeezed you tight to him then and kissed you with a ferocity you'd only ever dreamed of.
You fought with the keys in your hand without breaking the kiss, desperate to get him inside.
You turned quickly to unlock the door and Pope's hands dropped reluctantly from you. As soon as the door was open, he was walking you backwards again into the dark hallway. Pope only just cleared the doorway before he kicked the door closed behind him with his boot.
You couldn't stand it anymore. The accumulation of years of wanting, and the thick sexual tension from the previous week, made you desperately hungry for him.
You looked at each other for a second. You were both breathing heavily and wanted to savour the moment before it happened. The anticipation of what you both knew was coming.
Then you were on each other again. You started to tug off his flannel overshirt, pulling the sleeves impatiently down his arms and letting it fall to the floor at your feet.
Pope kicked his boots off, one after the other. The left one went flying and smacked against the wall. You turned to let Pope unzip your dress.
You weren't going to make it to the bedroom.
Pope pulled the zipper down slowly as you bent slightly against the wall. The cold metal teeth sent shivers up your spine. You tried to control your trembling. Once it was completely undone, you turned back to face him before allowing it to fall to the floor.
Pope followed it down as it pooled at your feet, eyes turning black. Everything he so badly craved was standing right in front of him.
You pulled his black tee up from the bottom, slowly revealing sculpted abs then pecs. Pope finished tugging it over his head; auburn hair curling under his arms.
You felt faint.
Looking down, you saw the defined V shape of his hips. A soft trail of hair stretched from his belly button and disappeared down beneath his jeans.
You couldn't hold back a soft moan as you started to tug at his pants. Pope let you undo his belt and the top button of his jeans, before taking over to push them down over his thick, hairy thighs.
You gave a sharp inhale. Beneath Pope's boxers was an incredibly large erection.
His cock looked even bigger than it had felt beneath you as you rode against it during your parents' anniversary party. (Jesus, that sounded terrible).
There was nothing fake about this.
'Come here,' Pope whispered, pulling you down onto the couch so you were lying next to him. Pope pulled your body flush to him and kissed along your jaw, pausing to suck softly at the sensitive spot beneath your ear. You let out a moan, and Pope felt a thrill run through him from teasing that sound out of you.
He kissed all down your throat, raising all the hairs on your body, before hesitating above your breasts.
'Is this okay?' Pope mumbled, voice thick.
'Yesss,' you breathed.
Pope's mouth moved against you; kissing your breasts through the lacy fabric. His thick fingers searched behind you and unclipped your bra. It fell away after the snap, and Pope tossed it somewhere behind his head.
The apartment was still in darkness, with only the streetlights through the window illuminating the room. Slivers of soft golden light passed over his mussed auburn curls and his closed eyes. It added a dreamy haze to the intimacy.
Pope mouthed at your breasts, kissing each one before circling your nipple with a wet kiss. His hands reached down to grab the band of your panties and he tugged them down over your legs. He threw those in a completely different direction.
He pulled your leg so it hooked over his hip. Your mound was pressed against his thick erection and you moaned again.
Pope's tongue gently entered your mouth as your lips parted, and began to gently swirl in your mouth.
His hand was on on your hip, then your ass, then your hip again. He couldn't pull you close enough to his body. Now that he finally had you, he wanted to completely consume you.
Pope was completely wrecked. His fingers worked down between your bodies, completely undoing you.
'You're sure? I need you to say it for me.'
'I'm so su-' Pope finally touched you where you needed him.
'Fuuuck,' he groaned. 'You're so fucking wet.'
You whispered into his mouth. 'All for you.'
'All for me.' Pope repeated, almost testing the shape of the words.
'Touch me,' you begged. 'Please.'
Pope ran his fingers along you, beneath your folds. You felt your slick covering them.
'You'll have to tell me what you like,' he said softly. 'I don't want to do it wrong.'
Your heart panged.
'There's no way you can do it wrong,' you assured him. 'It's you. It feels so fucking good already.'
'Show me how you like to be fucked.' Pope's voice was liquid steel.
You pushed your hand down to hold his fingers and guided his index finger to your pussy entrance.
'Here,' you whispered.
'Okay,' Pope nodded.
He slowly pushed his finger in, stretching you out. You moaned in relief as he finally entered you.
'Yeah?' Andrew asked, searching your face.
'Oh, yeahh,' you nodded, eyes closing. 'Please keep touching me.'
Pope audibly swallowed.
He slowly began to push and pull a thick finger into you. The tug of his knuckles against every inch of your insides was electric.
'Like this?' Pope's voice came out thick.
'Exactly like that.'
You felt almost full already but you were desperate for more.
'Please can I have another? Pleaseee.'
Pope added his middle finger and scissored them gently. You felt incredibly full of him.
'Oh my God,' you clutched onto his forearm. 'That feels so fucking good.'
Pope kissed you again; hungry and desperate.
The soft dragging of his fingers began to make obscenely loud squelching noises in a quiet room.
'Tell me where you need me.' Pope's voice cracked as he circled his fingers.
'There!' You cried out.
'Here?' Pope asked, rubbing against your warm, wet wall.
'Back a little,' you kissed the words into his mouth.
Pope slightly adjusted the angle of his wrist and curled the pads of his fingers until he touched just the right spot.
'There!' You cried out, 'right there, oh right fucking there.'
Pope growled and pressed against you, kissing you greedily.
Every thrust of his fingers punched against that spot. You felt the sensation of needing to pee building at the bottom of your tummy.
'I'm gonna cum,' you sighed, embarassed about being so close already.
'Yeah?' Pope breathed. 'Are you gonna cum all over my fingers?'
You felt your pussy flutter at that.
'Yeah,' you whispered. 'Andrew, you're gonna make me cum.'
Pope couldn't believe this was real, that he was going to make you cum from his massage. Everything he'd ever wanted was squeezing down on his fingers.
'Let me have it, beautiful girl.' Pope's fingers sped up a little. His gaze was focused as the rougher thrusts twisted your insides. 'Give in to me. It's gonna feel so good.'
'I'm gonna, oh I'm go- fuck am cu-'
Your orgasm set you on fire. Your back arched against him as your mouth opened in a wordless cry.
Pope used his elbow to keep your leg steady over his hip, and continued to fuck you with his fingers as you came.
'Good girl... oh good girl.'
Tiny spurts left you between each drag of his fingers. Not a lot. Not pornographic. But enough.
Pope kissed you throughout; messy, sloppy kisses. The twirling and licking of his tongue against yours, and the filthy increase of saliva sliding between your lips, only intensified the feeling.
Pope slowed his fingers, still twirling and scissoring them, his touch against your spot increasingly gentle.
'You're doing so good,' Pope's voice was wrecked; hair damp. 'You look so pretty like this.'
He didn't stop until you were shuddering and crying out his name in broken fragments. He slowly withdrew them and held them in front of his face with a stunned expression. His cock pulsed at the scent; mouth agape.
As you tried to control your breathing, you watched as Pope sucked on his fingers. His eyes closed for a second as he paused. He finally knew what you tasted like.
Leaning back into you, eyes black, his mouth smashed against yours. It was a deep, intimate kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue. How many times had you desperately tried to reach that spot, with fingers too short and slim, dreaming it was Pope instead?
Oxytocin flooded your brain and you felt dizzy with pleasure. You felt Pope's cock pressing insistenly against you. A thick smear of pre-cum was soaking through the fabric. You could see the outline of his bulging head.
'It's your turn to feel good,' you whispered, reaching down past his hips.
Pope caught your wrist gently, stopping you.
Your breathing was still heavy as you looked into his eyes, confused. His stunning hazel eyes, with the gold flecks and dilated pupils were so close to yours that you could count the freckles around them. It was simultaneously hard to look into them when they turned your world off its axis, but so hard to look away from when Pope was looking at you like that. His expression was all for you.
'If you touch me right now,' Pope groaned, 'I'm not gonna last.' His ears tinged pink.
'Oh, Andrew...' Something about that admission was so fucking hot.
'I haven't finished.' Pope guided your hand back up to his bare chest. 'I need to clean you up... and I desperately want to play with your clit.'
Your breath caught. Hearing Pope say the word 'clit' in front of you, and to be referring to yours, was completely undoing you.
'I need to know what you fully taste like,' Pope confessed. He lapped at the flat of your tongue with the tip of his own, before placing a kiss on your cheek. A contradiction in danger and sweetness.
'I'm going to eat you...' Pope's voice was wrecked, and it sounded more like a warning than a promise, '... and then I'm finally, finally, going to fuck you.'
Contains: m orgasm, pillow humping, moniker 'mommy' but no fauxcest, peeping reader, mention of filming porn
pic: thisismeena
--🩷--
Coming home early from a trip and finding Pope lying face down on the bed. He's making a sound like he's in pain and you're concerned. His legs are spread wide open. His thick, hairy thighs are pressed down hard against the sheet, completely flat. His sculpted, bare ass is waving in the air.
Pope's riding your pillow 🩷 His cock keeps disappearing upwards, rubbing along his hard abs and against the soft fabric of your pillow.
It must feel really good because he's grunting. 'Mmmf, yeah... fuck.'
You can see between his spread legs his big, heavy balls smacking into the edge of your pillow with every rut, bouncing back off the side towards you. His heavy weight is pressing him down flush against the squishy stuffing.
Pope circles his hips, rolling the sides of his cock against the fabric. 'Please,' you can hear him whimper. 'Please le-let me.'
As his humping becomes rougher, slamming his pelvis into the pillow, he begins panting. You can see a bottom section of his thick cock as it disappears upwards between his stomach and the pillow. The little peep show of some of his cock is almost torture.
The harder Pope fucks into the pillow, the more of the underside you can see. Just a glimpse of the mushroomy, head before it disappears from view.
'Y-you shit deserve this... take it.. take it just. like. that.' Pope grunts between each of the last three words.
Pope's fucking into it faster, scraping every vein against the puppy dog bedding you chose. Pope drags the leaking head of his cock on it, up and down, up and down. Soaking your cute, animal sheets with his drooling pre-cum.
He needs more lube so he spits into his fist and moves his hand between himself and the pillow, adding more friction with his large hand and thick fingers.
Groaning. Groaning loud.
'so s-sorry,' Pope's hiccuping, his fingers pulling at something pink from underneath his bare chest. He's holding it to the side, scrunching it in his fingers before shoving it down beneath his hips.
Had he taken a used pair of your panties? 'ju-just be one more minute... please.'
They must be used because you see a momentary pause in thrusting, his orgasm receding. You can hear a huff as Pope snorts them in and rubs them across his face. Covering his forehead, cheeks, chin in your smell and old wetness.
You hear sucking and the noise of Pope giving the seat filthy kisses. Oh fuck.
'No... don't! Gotta stop.' Pope moaned. His hips had temporarily stop their onslaught against your pillow. 'Nooooooo,' he gasped. 'Stop.... you'll make me cummm.'
Pope's wrapped the fabric around the head of his cock and squeezes. 'Uhh yeah...' he moans, his whole body shuddering.
''am almost do-duh-done.' Pope's muscles were flexing as he pulled at himself, his ass tensing and relaxing. 'Please... I'm near-nearly there hnnngh.'
Pope raises himself to his knees, gripping the sides of the pillow in a white-knuckle vice. You can see the sweat collecting on his lower back. The curls along his neck are damp.
'Ummf, you feel so goood.' His thrusts aren't straight anymore. They're pushing side to side, slipping on his sticky pre-cum.
He's losing control.
'Tell me I'm..mmm.' Pope's shoulders were shaking. 'Tell me- mm mmf.'
He couldn't get his words out between his grunts, each thrust producing a low 'huh huh huh'. Pope is pounding into the pillow in that violent way of his. His cock must be sore with so much pressure on it.
'Tell me I'm a good boy...' Pope's knees were starting to shake, and his breaths were ragged. 'That feels so go-goood.' His hips are making ragged circles now, catching on your panties.
'Oh God... oh fuck...' he cries out, 'i'm c-cumming.'
Pope throws his head back. You wish you could see his face, red and scrunched up in concentration.
'mommyy,' he whimpered, before a blazing cry left him.
Pope's hips moved once, twice, then stopped. As he moaned helplessly, his back arched upwards. His ass cheeks shuddered as they tensed, spraying cum all over your pillow case.
Pope moved his hips slowly in a circle, a deep, long groan passing through his body. He milked the last pathetic drops out of his stuttering cock.
Your pillow was ruined.
You could always buy a new one. Like you could always watch the video you just took.
Contains: sexual suggestion but no smut, kissing, police, handcuffs, fluff. Think Terry McCandless but as Sammy!
--🩷--
You heard the siren before you saw the flashing lights behind you. Fuck.
You were driving home from a date. A terrible date. The kind of date that made you want to swear off men forever.
You were going to kill your friend for the set-up.
You hadn't noticed the speed limit change as you fiddled with the radio.
You were poor as fuck and did not need this.
You pulled over to the side, jaw flexing, wondering how you'd get out of this one.
The door of the police car opened. You watched in the side mirror as the officer step out. Fucking hell.
His black uniform looked two sizes too small. It stretched across his muscles in a way that could only be described as obscene. He came closer. He was young, with a baby face covered in a dusting of orange freckles. His auburn hair glowed under the street light and he ran his bottom lip under his teeth as he came up to your window.
'Do you have any idea how fast you were go-'
The rough voice cut off. You looked up as you were winding down your window.
The officer was bending down to your height, leaning with one arm on the side of your car. One large hand splayed against the window, Titanic-style.
His voice broke as he took in your outfit. You were wearing a low-cut dress barely halfway down your thighs. (You had been hopeful after your friend had talked your date up so much). You were unashamedly desperate for sex. You must be ovulating.
His freckled face wore an expression you couldn't place.
You waited for him to continue.
'Licence and registration,' the officer continued, slightly shaking his head.
Wordlessly, you handed them over. You were panicking about how you could wriggle out of this. Pulling away and leaving him stood there crossed your mind as a genuine possibility.
You looked down at the stick. It wasn't completely out of the question.
'D'ya know how fast you were goin'?' The officer finally managed to ask his question, looking at you with piercing hazel eyes.
You could smell his cologne. You tried to hide your swallow.
You thought you'd seen this scene in a bad porno once...
You interrupted before this could go any further. Before he named the amount to pay which you just couldn't afford.
'Please, officer,' you looked up at him and did your best to flutter your eyelashes. You read his uniform. Bryant. 'Don't give me a ticket. I won't do it again.'
You played nervously with the hem of your dress, and his eyes flicked to it.
He shot you an arrogant smirk, trying not to laugh.
'Are we playing a little game?' He asked. His eyes twinkled in the dark.
'What?' You were confused.
Officer Bryant searched your face with a smirk, that shifted into an exaggerated sad face.
'No, please, officer,' he mocked your voice, his head tilted to one side.
His voice was in a higher register than his own to exaggerate yours.
You almost laughed in surprise, but your breath caught.
The arrogance of it did something to you.
'Are you gonna beg me not to give you a ticket?' His plump lips flashed you a faux pout as he exaggerated you pleading.
The condescending tone shot straight between your legs despite yourself.
You didn't know what to say.
'.... probably yes.' You shot him a pout back.
He laughed loudly at that. 'Good... But as much as I'd love to see that ma'am, 'cos you're beautiful, you shouldn't offer yourself up.'
You eyed him. 'I wasn't offering myself up... you were.'
He laughed again, adjusting his police belt.
'Seven inches of up.'
'Brat,' he couldn't hide his smile as he shook his head. 'I'm Sammy.'
You pressed your palm against the window to match his, just a thin pane of glass separating your fingers.
'I suppose asking you to get out of the vehicle and spread your legs is out of the question?' Sammy teased, biting his lip.
His vibe was cutesy and sweet. Nothing like the positively creepy date you had just been with.
'If you make me put my hands above my head, it isn't,' you shrugged, smiling.
Something unreadable passed over Sammy's head before he laughed.
'Don't,' he warned, shaking his head.
'Don't what?' You whispered, enjoying watching the tips of his ears turn pink.
'You know what,' Sammy shuffled and adjusted his belt.
Sammy's eyes flicked back down to your thighs, stopping at your painted lips before returning to your eyes.
'It's a shame you couldn't keep that charade up, Officer Sammy,' you gazed into his eyes. Your teasing tone had tailed off quieter than you had intended.
'Sammy,' he corrected, eyes flashing, 'and don't call me officer like that.'
'Why not?' You asked, giving him your best innocent wide-eyed look. 'You are an officerrr, Sammy.'
Sammy's whole face flushed red.
'I'm supposed to be in control here,' he coughed, trying to rearrange his face.
'You can be,' you purred.
'Jesus Christ.'
Sammy scrubbed a hand down his face.
'Don't you need to press me up against something and search me?'
'Stop that.' Sammy's expression was half amused and half tortured.
'I have a weapon in a strap on my thigh,' you nodded at him solemnly, 'you should check.'
'Look-' Sammy began.
'Oh, I am.' Your eyes slowly looked him up and down. He was hot. Like... really hot.
'You're trouble,' Sammy shook his head, biting down on his lip again. 'You're not gonna speed again, are ya, sweetheart?'
You pretended to consider this.
'I might when I know you're on duty.'
Sammy closed his eyes for a second.
'I'm about two sentences away from doing something incredibly unprofessional,' he admitted.
'I'm begging you not to give me a ticket,' you whispered, looking up at him doe-eyed.
'No, please, officer,' Sammy said again, except his tone was darker than condescending and carried a warning, as he opened your car door.
His large hand wrapped around your arm. Not tightly, giving you every opportunity to stop him from pulling you out to standing.
You let him.
Sammy tried to keep his eyes on your face, but he just couldn't. He shamelessly looked at you, from your cleavage and down your legs, and slowly back up to meet your eyes.
He turned you round to face your car, gently pushing you up against it. You tried to stifle a moan.
'Spread your legs,' Sammy instructed, a slight wobble in his voice.
You shifted them open in your heels.
'Wider.' Sammy used his boot to push your legs further apart.
A soft sound escaped your mouth.
He tugged your arms behind your back, grunting slightly as he slid the metal into place around both wrists.
Your arms were secured together. You had submitted yourself to this man. Rendered yourself completely helpless.
'A weapon, you said?' Sammy bent down, running his large hand down the outside of your thigh.
You tried to suppress a shiver and failed. Sammy made a quiet wounded sound behind you.
His fingers danced lightly across your ankle before running more authoritatively back up your leg. His large hand spanned across the back of your calf, palm skimming the whole muscle, before tickling up your inner thigh.
'Mm-hmm.' You didn't trust yourself to speak.
'Now I'm one sentence away from doing something really unprofessional,' Sammy groaned.
You looked back at him over your shoulder and steadily met his eyes. 'I'm so sorry,' you pouted in the way he had done earlier, 'officer.'
Sammy was on you in seconds with a hungry whimper. He turned you round so your back was against your car. Your handcuffed arms cushioned your back.
Sammy looked deep into your eyes as his fingers rose to your jaw.
His hazel constellations stared into yours for a second too long.
Then he moaned and leant in, pressing his mouth against yours.
You nearly melted.
Sammy's lips were soft and tentative. Almost like he was desperate to kiss you but was holding himself back.
'Is this actually okay?' He murmured against your lips.
You leant further into him as an answer and opened your mouth. His warm breath entered it, and Sammy accepted the answer.
The kiss was deeper, hungrier, exploratory. Warm, open kisses. Sammy tasted like coffee and spearmint chewing gum.
You moaned into his mouth.
You heard him whimper a soft yeahhh as his hands played with your hair.
Sammy backed you flush against the car, the handcuffs pressing into your hips.
His pheremones were making you dizzy as you kissed him. You gently pushed your tongue past Sammy's lips, hearing a moan leave the back of his throat. You swallowed it greedily, proud you were the cause of that moan.
Sammy pushed a soft curl back behind your ear and slowly pulled away.
'Come on,' he said, almost with regret. He gently stepped back and turnrd you back round, releasing your handcuffs. 'No ticket today.'
Sammy rubbed your wrists in a comforting way, although he had purposefully secured them loosely.
You stood, confused.
'You're clearly goin' somewhere dressed like that,' he smiled at you. Sammy's head moved to the side to keep him in your sight as your eyes dropped. 'It's okay, y'know.'
'Coming back from a bad date,' you mumbled.
'Bad date?' Sammy shook his head. 'Look at you.'
You didn't say anything.
'You deserve so much more than a bad date,' Sammy's voice softened. He shook his head and reached into the top pocket above his sunglasses and radio.
'This is my card. If you want a better date, maybe call me?'
Sammy flushed pink again and tried to control his breathing.
'If you kiss me, it should be cos you really wanna' Sammy finished and smiled, one eye slightly closed.
'I do want to,' you protested but Sammy cut you off, rubbing your arm.
'With no ticket involved,' he looked at you sternly.
gummygunk
origamiaround
titsay
germansingergirl
prguitarman
jacobvanloon
