eek saw your dunk rocking chair and i raise you trailer trash aerion taking you fishing and making you cockwarm him while he lazily lounges in a fold up chair by the water. little sundress pulled up over your hips while he sits and waits for a fish to bite. maybe he'll get a little bored and pass the pole to you so he can drink a beer and idly rub your clit.
EXACTLYYY YOU ARE IN MY MINDDDD
cockwarming traliertrash!aerion while he fishes ⊹ ࣪ ˖
the midday sun was a bastard, hot and unforgiving, beating down on the muddy bank of the stagnant creek.
you were perched on aerion’s lap, his fold-out chair groaning under the combined weight. his worn-out jeans were rough against the bare skin of your thighs. your little sundress, a flimsy yellow thing you’d bought from a roadside stand, was bunched up around your hips, leaving you completely exposed to the humid air and his wandering eyes.
he was inside you. not moving, just a heavy, thick presence filling you up, a possessive claim that had been his condition for coming on this "fishing trip" at all. his cock was a deep, steady ache, a constant reminder of your place. you were his lucky charm, his well…cockwarmer.
"stop squirming," he grumbled, his voice a low, lazy rumble against your ear. he took a slow pull from the can of cheap beer in his hand, his other arm resting loosely around your waist, his fingers occasionally tapping a rhythm on your hip bone.
"i'm not squirming," you mumbled, trying to hold yourself perfectly still. "your chair is digging into my back."
"yeah, well, my dick's digging into you, and i don’t hear you complainin' about that," he chuckled, a low, gravelly sound that vibrated through your entire body. he shifted his hips slightly, pushing himself deeper, and you couldn't suppress the small gasp that escaped your lips. you re-adjusted yourself slightly so your back was now fully flush with his chest.
you didn't answer. what was the point? he was right.
he cast his line out into the murky water, the bobber landing with a soft plip. he settled back, his chest still pressing against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder. then he was waiting.
"sun's out, beer's cold, got my girl's tight little cunt wrapped around my cock. this is the life, ain't it?"
you stared out at the water, watching the dragonflies flit over the surface. it wasn't the life. it was a prison, a humid, sticky, sun-drenched prison. but you knew better than to say that. at least you were here with him.
"god, i'm bored," he sighed after a few minutes of silence. he took another long drink of his beer, crushing the empty can in his fist with a sharp crunch. he tossed it onto the growing pile beside his chair. "here. you hold this."
he shoved the fishing pole into your hands, the worn cork grip smooth and slightly damp. "don't you dare lose that lure. it's my favorite."
"what are you doing?" you asked, a familiar knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach.
he shifted behind you, his hands coming around to rest on your bare thighs. "i'm gonna have some fun. you just sit there and look pretty. and try to catch us some dinner."
"i’m having dinner with you?"
"if y’want, said your folks were going to be at that charity thing so…"
his cold hand slid up your inner thigh, his calloused fingers tracing a path that made your breath hitch. he found your clit with an unnerving accuracy, his thumb beginning to rub slow, lazy circles against the sensitive nub. you bit your lip, a desperate attempt to stifle the whimper that threatened to escape.
"that's it," he murmured, his voice a low, approving purr in your ear. "just like that. stay still for me."
his touch was maddening. he wasn't trying to get you off, not yet. he was just stoking the fire, enjoying the way your body trembled, the way your breath hitched, the way you clenched around his cock in response to his touch.
"your hands are cold, aerion!"
"yeah? you're so wet," he whispered, his voice thick with a smug satisfaction. "love sittin' out here with me, my fingers on your clit, my dick in your cunt?"
"stop being crude and kiss me," you murmured, your voice tight with a desperate need for something real, something that wasn't just this casual, detached torment. you gripped the fishing pole tighter, your knuckles white, your eyes fixed on the little red and white bobber dancing on the water's surface.
he huffed out a laugh, and instead of the kiss you wanted, he leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek in sloppy, wet smacks. then he did it again, on your other cheek, then your jaw, leaving a trail of cooling saliva on your skin.
you turned your head, trying to catch his mouth, to force a real kiss, something with tongue and teeth and passion. he pulled back just enough, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "ah, ah, ah," he tsked, shaking his head slightly. "you don't get that for free."
"aerion," you whined, the sound pathetic even to your own ears. "please."
"please what?" he murmured, his fingers stilling their maddening circles. he was enjoying this, enjoying your desperation, the power he held over you. "you want a real kiss? you want me to kiss you like i mean it?"
you nodded, a tear of frustration escaping and tracing a path through the drying spit on your cheek.
"then earn it," he said, his voice a low, dangerous purr. he gave your clit a sharp, sudden slap that made you cry out and arch against him. "show me how much you want it. show me you're my good girl. beg for it."
your pride warred with your desire, a losing battle from the start. "please, aerion," you whispered, the words tasting like ash in your mouth. "please kiss me."
"louder," he commanded, his fingers resuming their slow, torturous rhythm. "and tell me what you are."
"please," you said, your voice a little stronger this time, a little more broken. "please kiss me... i'm your good girl."
he let out a low, satisfied hum. "that's better." he leaned in, and for a heart-stopping moment, you thought he was finally going to give you what you wanted. his lips hovered just millimeters from yours…
then he pulled away completely, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "nah," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "not yet. the fish are bitin'."
he pointed with his chin toward the water. your eyes darted to the bobber, which was now bobbing frantically, disappearing beneath the surface with a decisive plip. you had a bite.
"you better reel that in," he said, his voice a lazy drawl, his other hand reaching into the cooler to pull out another beer. "maybe if you catch us a big one, i'll think about that kiss." he settled back in the chair. his hand came off your clit and went to rest on your hips, his cock plush and heavy, an unyielding presence inside you. "get to work, baby."
janainaart
annaxmalina
baratheonpilled
kianamaiart
blakekathryn
snowghoul
