Hello, angels! Quick question for my Peaky Blinders fandom pals: does anyone remember when BBC (I think) released those two monologue recordings, one of Tommy and one of Alfie? Does anyone know where I can find those?
We’re kicking off the smutty sleepover right now, besties! Here’s my first drabble request for the prompt “It’s my thigh or nothing, I’m not helping you get off” chosen by my beautiful @potter-solomons!
Warnings - Female reader x Dom Alfie. Very, very dom Alfie! Smut below the cut. Minors DNI!
Words - 565
“Look at you, my little princess. Fuckin’ dying for it, ain’t ya?”
Shifting against your restraint, the leather of his belt binding your arms behind your back, you nod, the gag of your own underwear pushed into your mouth preventing speech.
“Come sit on me.” He commands, taking your waist and guiding you to his thigh, your apex hot and wet with need against him. “Oh, you were hoping for this, eh?”
He takes his rigid cock, giving it a few pumps within the strong clasp of his ring adorned hand, staring you in the eyes as he does it, wringing pre-cum out, his other hand pulling the knickers from your mouth. “Speak.”
“Yes, Alfie. I want your cock, I want to ride it so badly, or for you to touch me. Please, just touch me!”
“Bit desperate, ain’t you?”
“Mmmm, always for you.” The heat of his thigh against your bare sex is torture, longing for him to sate you with fingers, or perhaps his skilled mouth, have his tongue lick the relief of divinity against you, but no. He is not forthcoming. He’s talked you into this state, his commands making your cunt puddle, and now, it would seem, it is your problem to deal with.
“If you want gratification so badly, then you’ll have to seek it yourself.”
You whine petulantly, Alfie giving you a little slap at the cheek in correction.
“Don’t be naughty, right?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Good girl. Now, as I was saying. If you want it, seek it yourself. It’s my thigh or nothing, I’m not helping you get off.”
“May I?”
His eyes glitter at you like two smoky sapphires, the control he has over you making the dark skin of his cock flush, his chest heaving out a little with a shuddered breath. It’s killing him too, not to impale you upon it, but the sweet torture will make the end result all the more worth it. He has you exactly where you need to be.
“You may, princess.”
Tightening your thighs around his, you begin to rub yourself, the hot bulk of solid muscle giving your clit all the friction it needs to begin sparking, tingling as you grind, your mouth falling open as you gasp softly. Oh, it’s so delicious, the soft hairs adding to your stimulation, your whole body an absolute tempest of delight for that gratification.
You leave him slick, the unashamed gush from your cunt soaking him as your hips purl, staring at him, Alfie grasping your jaw and stealing smoking, messy kisses from you. “Yeah, you grind away, love. That’s what you needed, ain’t it?”
“Yes.” You pant, moving faster against him, riding that solid mass of thigh as if your life depends on it, grinding so hard, the press has you sparking to euphoria quickly, all that pent up arousal finally able to release.
And it does, soaking him as you wail, the leather belt creaking when your arms flex with exertion, his eyes never leaving yours as you cum hard on his thigh. It’s so magmatic, it even leaves him breathless.
“Mmmm, good girl. I suppose now it’s only fair you get to have a go on the beast, eh?”
He lifts you, positioning himself at your fluttering entrance, letting you slide down on him fully with a gasp. And what a beast that cock of his truly is.
