((Love Nwantiti -CKay Remix ft. Joeboy & Kuami Eugene)) Stroll Song
((Jerusalema | Master KG, Feat. Nomcebo)) Group Dance
For easier reading, please see transcript below the cut:
It truly was the perfect day. From the weather to our familial assortment, I couldn’t have asked for more.
The only “downside” if you can call it that, was Obie’s GDI status, lol. He later told me, jokingly, that he was slightly jealous of my “Dear Alpha Kappa Alpha” serenade and wanted to join my stroll. We did a few group dances to level the playing field. Jerusalema was the big hit with everybody.
Pushing that aside, I don’t think either of us could have been happier. We danced the night away underneath the stars.
Pairing: Simon Riely x Reader
Summary: Childhood friends reconnect at a college football game, igniting years of unspoken tension. What starts as a charged conversation at a post-game party escalates into passionate, intimate encounters that blur the line between nostalgia and desire. The story features explicit sexual content and emotional vulnerability and caters to a short, plus-size readership.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, detailed smut, bareback sex, dirty talk (daddy/baby girl dynamic), multiple orgasms, squirting, hickeys, possessive behavior, semi-public intimacy (truck), emotionally intense scenes
Word Count: 14,200 words
The door clicks shut behind you, and suddenly the reality of where you are hits you. Simon's dorm room. His private space. His bed is just a few feet away.
He sets you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist as he looks down at you with an intensity that makes your knees weak. The room is dimly lit by a lamp on his desk, casting warm shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the fullness of his lips.
"You okay?" he asks softly, his thumb stroking your hip through your jeans.
"Yeah." You reach up to cup his face, feeling the slight stubble on his jaw. "More than okay."
He turns his head to press a kiss to your palm, then your wrist, his eyes never leaving yours. "We can still slow down. We can just talk, or watch a movie, or—"
You silence him with a kiss, pouring all your want and need into it. When you pull back, his eyes are dark and his breathing is ragged.
"I don't want to slow down," you tell him firmly. "I want you. All of you. Right now."
Something in him seems to snap. His hands tighten on your waist, and he walks you backward until your legs hit the edge of his bed. You sit down, and he follows you, his body covering yours as he lays you back against the mattress.
"You have no idea how many times I've imagined this," he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. "How many nights I lay in this bed thinking about you, wishing you were here with me."
"Tell me," you breathe, your hands sliding under his shirt to feel the hard planes of his stomach. "Tell me what you imagined."
He groans, his hips pressing against yours. "Everything. I imagined everything. Kissing you, touching you, tasting you. Making you come over and over until you couldn't remember your own name." His teeth graze your collarbone. "Imagined you riding me, taking what you need. Imagined bending you over and fucking you until we both couldn't stand."
His words send heat flooding through you, and you arch against him. "I want all of that. I want everything with you."
"You'll get it, baby girl. I promise." He sits back on his heels, his hands going to the hem of his shirt. "But first, I need to see you. All of you."
He pulls his shirt over his head, and your breath catches. You'd felt his body against yours, but seeing him was something else entirely. He's all muscle and smooth skin, his chest and abs defined from years of training. There's a tattoo on his ribs that you want to trace with your tongue.
"Your turn," he says, his voice rough with desire.
You sit up and reach for your crop top, but he stops you.
"Let me," he says, and you nod.
His hands are gentle as he pulls your top over your head, even though your bra is already long gone, discarded in the truck. When you're bare from the waist up, he just looks at you for a long moment, his eyes roaming over your curves with undisguised appreciation.
"Perfect," he murmurs. "You're so fucking perfect."
Self-consciousness tries to creep in—you're soft where he's hard and curved where he's angular—but the look in his eyes chases it away. He's looking at you like you're a goddess, like you're everything he's ever wanted.
His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, and you gasp at the sensation. He leans down to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking while his hand plays with the other, and pleasure shoots straight to your core.
"Simon," you moan, your hands tangling in his hair.
He hums against your skin, the vibration making you shiver, then switches to give your other breast the same attention. By the time he pulls back, you're squirming with need, your jeans feeling impossibly tight and restrictive.
"These need to come off," he says, his fingers going to your waistband.
You lift your hips to help him, and he slides your jeans and panties down your legs in one smooth motion, leaving you completely bare before him. For a moment, you feel vulnerable, exposed, but then he's looking at you with such raw hunger that all your insecurities melt away.
"Fucking gorgeous," he breathes, his hands running up your thighs. "Spread your legs for me, baby girl. Let me see all of you."
You do as he asks, your cheeks flushing with heat and arousal. His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, wet and wanting, and he licks his lips like he's about to devour a feast.
"I need to taste you," he says, his voice almost reverent. "I've been thinking about it since the truck. Please, baby girl. Let me make you feel good."
"Yes," you breathe. "Please, Simon."
He settles between your thighs, his broad shoulders forcing your legs wider, and then his mouth is on you and you're crying out at the sensation. His tongue is hot and wet as it slides through your folds, licking and sucking and exploring every inch of you.
"Fuck, you taste so good," he groans against you, the vibration making you whimper. "Even better than I imagined."
He focuses his attention on your clit, circling it with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, and your back arches off the bed. His hands grip your thighs, holding you in place as he works you over with his mouth, alternating between broad strokes of his tongue and focused attention on your clit.
When he slides two fingers inside you, curling them to hit that perfect spot while his mouth continues its assault on your clit, you know you're not going to last long.
"Simon," you gasp, your hands fisting in his hair. "I'm gonna—fuck, I'm gonna come."
"Do it," he commands, his voice muffled against you. "Come on my tongue, baby girl. Let me taste it."
His fingers curl harder, his tongue flicks faster, and you shatter. Your orgasm rips through you with even more intensity than the first one, your whole body shaking as pleasure crashes over you in waves. He doesn't stop, working you through it until you're pushing at his head from oversensitivity.
When he finally pulls back, his lips and chin are glistening with your arousal, and the sight is so erotic it makes you clench with renewed need.
"Good girl," he murmurs, crawling up your body to kiss you deeply. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it's filthy and perfect. "Such a good girl for me, coming so pretty on my tongue."
"Need you," you whimper against his lips, your hands going to his jeans. "Need you inside me. Please, Simon."
He helps you with his jeans, pushing them and his boxers down his hips, and then he's naked too, and oh God, he's big. Thick and long and already leaking at the tip. You reach out to wrap your hand around him, and he hisses at the contact.
"Fuck, baby girl," he groans as you stroke him slowly. "That feels so good."
"I want to taste you too," you say, starting to sit up, but he gently pushes you back down.
"Next time," he promises. "Right now I need to be inside you or I'm going to lose my mind."
He reaches for his nightstand, presumably for a condom, but you stop him.
"I'm on birth control," you tell him. "And I'm clean. I haven't been with anyone in over a year."
His eyes flash with something dark and possessive. "I'm clean too. Got tested after my last relationship ended six months ago, and there's been no one since." He leans down to kiss you softly. "Are you sure? We can still use protection if you want."
"I'm sure. I want to feel you. All of you."
He groans, his forehead dropping to rest against yours. "You're going to kill me, baby girl."
He positions himself at your entrance, the thick head of his cock pressing against you, and you both moan at the contact. He pushes in slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size, and the stretch is intense but not painful.
"You okay?" he asks, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
"Yes," you breathe. "More. Give me more."
He pushes in further, inch by inch, until he's fully seated inside you. You feel impossibly full, stretched in the best way, and when he's completely still, buried to the hilt, you both just breathe for a moment.
"Fuck, you feel incredible," he groans. "So tight and wet and perfect. Like you were made for me."
"Move," you plead, your legs wrapping around his waist. "Please move."
He starts to thrust, slow and deep, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. The drag of his cock against your inner walls is exquisite, and you can feel every ridge, every vein.
"That's it," he murmurs, his lips finding your neck. "Take it, baby girl. Take all of me."
He sets a steady rhythm, his hips rolling in a way that hits all the right spots, and you're already climbing toward another orgasm. Your hands roam over his back, feeling his muscles flex with each thrust, your nails digging in when he hits a particularly good angle.
"Harder," you gasp. "Please, Simon, harder."
He complies immediately, his thrusts becoming more forceful, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle, and suddenly he's hitting even deeper, and you cry out.
"Fuck, yes," he groans. "You sound so pretty when you moan for me. Let me hear you, baby girl. Let everyone know who's making you feel this good."
You don't even try to hold back, moaning and gasping with each thrust. The pleasure is building, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, and you know this orgasm is going to be intense.
"Touch yourself," he commands, his voice rough. "Play with your clit while I fuck you. I want to feel you come on my cock."
You slide your hand between your bodies, your fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles. The added stimulation combined with his relentless thrusts is almost too much, and within seconds you're coming, your inner walls clamping down on him as pleasure explodes through your entire body.
"Fuck, yes," he groans, his thrusts becoming erratic. "That's it, baby girl. Squeeze my cock. Fuck, you feel so good."
He fucks you through your orgasm, prolonging it until you're a shaking, whimpering mess beneath him. When you finally come down, he's still hard inside you, still moving.
"I want to ride you," you gasp out, and his eyes flash with heat.
"Yeah? You want to ride daddy's cock?"
The title makes you clench around him, and he smirks.
"You like that? Like it when I call myself daddy?"
"Yes," you admit, your cheeks flushing.
"Good girl." He pulls out and flips onto his back, pulling you on top of him. "Then ride daddy's cock, baby girl. Show me how good you can be."
You straddle him, positioning yourself over his cock, and sink down slowly. From this angle, he feels even bigger, even deeper, and you have to pause when he's fully inside you to adjust.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his hands on your hips. "Taking me so well. Such a good girl for daddy."
You start to move, rolling your hips in slow circles, and his head falls back against the pillow with a groan. His hands guide your movements, helping you find a rhythm, and soon you're bouncing on his cock, your hands braced on his chest for leverage.
"That's it," he encourages, his eyes locked on where you're joined. "Fuck, you look so good riding me. So fucking beautiful."
You lean forward, changing the angle so your clit rubs against his pelvis with each movement, and the friction is perfect. His hands slide up to cup your breasts, playing with your nipples, and the dual stimulation has you climbing toward another orgasm embarrassingly quickly.
"I'm close again," you gasp. "Fuck, Simon, I'm so close."
"Come for me," he commands, one hand sliding down to where you're joined, his thumb finding your clit. "Come on daddy's cock, baby girl. Let me feel it."
His thumb circles your clit in time with your movements, and that's all it takes. Your third orgasm hits you like a freight train, and this time you feel it—a gush of wetness, your body squirting as pleasure overwhelms you.
"Fuck yes," Simon groans, his hips bucking up into you. "That's it, baby girl. Squirt for me. So fucking hot."
You collapse forward onto his chest, your body still shaking, but he's not done. He wraps his arms around you and starts thrusting up into you, hard and fast, chasing his own release.
"Where do you want it?" he grits out. "Where do you want me to come?"
"Inside," you gasp. "Come inside me. Please, daddy. Want to feel it."
He groans, his thrusts becoming erratic, and then he's coming, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his release. The feeling of his warmth flooding you triggers another small orgasm, and you clench around him, milking every last drop.
When he finally stills, you're both breathing hard, your bodies slick with sweat. He rolls you onto your side, staying inside you, and pulls you close.
"That was..." he trails off, pressing kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips.
"Yeah," you agree, because you don't have words either.
You stay like that for a while, just holding each other, his softening cock still inside you, his come slowly leaking out. It should probably feel messy or uncomfortable, but instead it feels intimate, like you're as close as two people can possibly be.
Eventually, he pulls out gently, and you both wince at the loss. He gets up and disappears into the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth to clean you up. His touch is gentle and reverent, and when he's done, he tosses the cloth aside and climbs back into bed, pulling you into his arms.
"Stay," he murmurs into your hair. "Stay the night. I want to wake up with you."
"Okay," you whisper, snuggling closer. "I'll stay."
He pulls the blankets over you both, and you settle against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow to a steady rhythm. His fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, and you feel safe and cherished and completely content.
"I meant what I said earlier," he says quietly. "About my feelings for you. This wasn't just sex for me."
You tilt your head up to look at him. "It wasn't just sex for me either. I have real feelings for you, Simon. I think I always have."
He smiles, soft and genuine, and kisses you gently. "Good. Because I plan on keeping you. If you'll have me."
"I'll have you," you promise. "For as long as you want me."
"Forever, then." He says it so simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I want you forever."
Your eyes sting with happy tears, and you bury your face in his chest. "Forever sounds perfect."
You fall asleep like that, wrapped in each other's arms, and for the first time in four years, you both feel complete.
You wake to sunlight streaming through the window and the feeling of Simon's lips on your shoulder. You're still wrapped in his arms, your back pressed to his chest, and you can feel that he's hard again, his erection pressing against your ass.
"Morning, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.
"Morning," you mumble, stretching languidly. The movement makes you aware of the pleasant ache between your legs, a reminder of last night's activities.
"How are you feeling?" His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip.
"Good. Sore, but good."
"Too sore?" His hand dips lower, fingers brushing through your folds, and you gasp. "Or can I have you again?"
You're already wet, your body responding to his touch instantly. "Not too sore," you breathe, pressing back against him.
He groans, his cock sliding between your thighs. "Good. Because I need you again. Woke up hard thinking about last night, about how perfect you felt around me."
He lifts your leg, draping it over his, and then he's sliding inside you from behind, the angle making you both moan. He's gentle at first, mindful of your soreness, but as you start to move with him, his thrusts become deeper, more purposeful.
"Love waking up with you," he murmurs in your ear, one hand playing with your breast while the other slides down to rub your clit. "Love being inside you. Love everything about you."
The combination of his words, his touch, and the slow, deep thrusts has you climbing toward orgasm again. It builds slowly this time, a gradual crescendo rather than a sudden peak, and when you finally come, it's a long, rolling wave of pleasure that seems to go on forever.
Simon follows soon after, his hips stuttering as he comes inside you again, and you love the feeling of him filling you, marking you as his.
Afterward, you both lie there in comfortable silence, his arms still around you, his softening cock still inside you.
"I could get used to this," you say eventually.
"Good." He presses a kiss to your shoulder. "Because I plan on doing this every morning for the foreseeable future."
You laugh, turning in his arms to face him. "Every morning?"
"Every morning," he confirms, kissing you softly. "And every night. And probably a few times in between."
"I'm not complaining," you assure him, running your fingers through his messy hair.
He grins, boyish and happy, and your heart swells with affection. This is Simon—your Simon—the boy you grew up with and the man you're falling in love with all over again.
"We should probably get up," he says reluctantly. "I have practice this afternoon, and you probably have things to do."
"Probably," you agree, but neither of you moves.
Eventually, hunger and the need for a shower motivate you both to get out of bed. Simon lends you one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers, and even though they're huge on you, he looks at you like you're wearing the sexiest lingerie in the world.
"You look good in my clothes," he says, pulling you close for a kiss.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Like you belong to me."
The possessiveness in his voice makes you shiver. "I do belong to you. And you belong to me."
"Damn right I do." He kisses you again, deeper this time, and you can feel him starting to get hard again.
"Down, boy," you laugh, pushing at his chest. "You said you have practice."
"Practice can wait," he murmurs against your lips.
"Simon."
He sighs dramatically but steps back. "Fine. But tonight, you're coming back here, and I'm keeping you in my bed all night."
"Deal."
You spend the rest of the morning together, sharing a shower that turns into another round of slow, sensual sex against the tile wall, then making breakfast in the small kitchenette in his dorm. It's domestic and comfortable and perfect, and you can easily imagine doing this every day.
When it's finally time for you to leave, he walks you to the door, his arms wrapped around you from behind.
"I'll see you tonight?" he asks, nuzzling into your neck.
"Tonight," you confirm. "I'll text you when I'm done with my study group."
"Can't wait." He turns you in his arms and kisses you deeply, pouring all his feelings into it. "I'm so glad you came to my game yesterday."
"Me too." You cup his face, looking into his warm brown eyes. "Best decision I ever made."
"Second best," he corrects. "The best decision was saying yes when I asked you to come back here with me."
You laugh and kiss him again. "You're right. That was definitely the best decision."
As you finally pull away and head down the hallway, you can feel his eyes on you. When you turn back at the elevator, he's still standing in his doorway, watching you with a soft smile on his face.
You wave, and he waves back, and as the elevator doors close, you're already counting down the hours until you can see him again.
Your phone buzzes with a text.
Simon: Already missing you, baby girl.
You smile, your heart full.
You: Missing you too, Daddy. See you tonight.
Simon: Can't wait to have you in my arms again. And in my bed. And on my cock.
You: Insatiable.
Simon: Only for you. Only ever for you.
And as you head back to your apartment, you know with absolute certainty that this—Simon, this relationship, this feeling—is exactly where you're meant to be.
Four years of waiting, of longing, of missing each other, and you've finally found your way back together.
Today’s doll of the day is Alpha Kappa Alpha Centennial Barbie, a Barbie doll released in 2008. To nominate a doll for DOTD, please click here! You can check out past Doll of the Day entries here!
For the 2024 Presidential Candidates' Debate on 10 September, Kamala Harris wore South Sea pearl earrings from Tiffany's HardWear collection. (This style is no longer available online.)
She's had these earrings for a while, and worn them to many previous events. (And no, they aren't ear phones.)
Pearls are a symbol of her sorority, Alpha Kappa Alpha, and she wears them as a symbol of solidarity with her sisters.
