Burning Desire
𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑴𝑨𝑺 𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑶𝑵𝑬 - a christmas heatwave
pairing: sleazy!joel x oblivious!reader
summary: overwhelmed at the crowded block party, you were thankful when your neighbor tommy, invited you on a gas station run with him and his older brother joel. the only problem is, tommy’s truck only holds two people and joel’s been waiting for his chance to get you alone.
cw: 18+ MDNI, no outbreak au, i imagined joel in his late thirties, flirtatious tommy, a brief panic attack, joel being a peeping tom, male masturbation, jealous!joel, non-con vouyerism, pet names, dry humping, gas station sex, dub-con, sexual frustration, raw sex, slut shaming, bicep choking, clit slapping, rough sex, big dick miller, breeding kink, overstimulation, forced creampie, slight aftercare
wc: 6.4k
a/n: first kinkmas fic! got a little nasty with my brain worms and couldn’t stop writing, i just miss summer and the heat so bad
Every December, as the sun would begin to drift down the horizon, most people would turn in early, choosing to stay inside during the cooler Texas nights—but not your neighbors.
Without fail, your neighborhood always figured out a way to celebrate Christmas early, planning a special celebration days before the holiday, the weather always turning out perfect for the occasion.
Usually, the temperatures would remain comfortable enough for light sweaters and jeans—but this year’s celebration was different—a scorching hot heatwave decided to come to fruition, seeping its muggy warmth all across Texas, the temperature particularly unpleasant in Austin.
You knew the sun would be baking today—the news alerted you of the rising tempers—yet it still didn’t prepare you to feel punched in the face by the suffocating humidity even when getting dressed, the sweat begun to pool around your forehead although you put on the smallest, thinnest clothing you owned.
Opening your backdoor, the bright sun instantly blinded you; the smell of booze and barbecue smoke sneaked up your nose as you walked out your white screen door to the backyard, the hinges snapping against the wall.
Thankfully you were just on time, walking through the soft grass, the freshly mowed clippings fluffed around your toes in excess, the strands sticking to your freshly lotioned skin causing your ankles to itch as you stride through the yard.
You can feel the sound of music beginning to shake in your eardrums—the country music booming out from the multicolored speakers.
As you approach the cul-de-sac, you quickly realize how crowded the block party has become.
Your neighbors have been hyping up this party for weeks now, an all-American, trashy way of celebrating Christmas, and if there was one thing people enjoyed most, it was drinking—always throwing unnecessary parties as an excuse to get shitfaced with little to no regrets, today being no different.
You were unable to complain as you imagined swimming in some rich neighbors pool, eating all of the free food you could muster and washing it down with expensive beer. Truthfully—that sounded like a damn good Saturday evening, and who were you to turn down some free ribs?
You could finally make out the lyrics to the end of the song that's played on your walk over. Getting distracted by all the people crowding the street, you almost trip over the spread out extension cords connected to the array of machines.
You didn’t expect it to be this crowded, the winter holiday was a time for families and cozy nights inside in front of the tv, but to your surprise—that didn’t stop everyone from showing up in abundance.
The strangers standing around the block weren’t dressed in the usual ugly Christmas sweaters, instead they shedded their layers for swimsuits and red sunglasses—you could only imagine how uncomfortably warm the large fuzzy Santa hats felt in this heat.
As you ventured further down the road, you stepped around the wooden corn hole setups and the booze spilt puddles, trying to find a good place to sit down and people watch, waiting to see someone you know. It was abundantly clear you misunderstood the popularity of the random celebration—the people going all out.
You watched in awe at the plastic fold up tables piled full with food, the lawn chairs and water inflatables filled the paved driveways, and the crowd? It was far too massive for the small space, hundreds of people spread out around the houses, their voices loud and slurred as they ran around rampant.
You quickly grew overwhelmed at the crowd, not recognizing any familiar faces, you finally found a safe spot out of the sun and underneath a tree. Leaning against the bark, you crossed your arms in an attempt to soothe yourself.
“Hey! Started to think you weren't gon’ show up.” A voice speaks, ripping you from your panicked thoughts.
Looking up in the direction of the noise, you see Tommy smiling brightly at you, holding a beer with his shirt unbuttoned. His cheeks looking flushed red from the sun, his freckles painting his nose bridge.
You go to reply, smiling big in his direction, but the grass crumbles behind him, a brown boot coming into your line of vision.
You quickly make eye contact with Joel, the man you always tried your best to make a good impression on, yet it always fell flat—him never bothering to start a conversation with you, no matter how hard you tried.
“Hey! Yeah-I um, I just got here.” You say loudly, yelling over the music. “It’s like, really crazy, I didn’t expect this many people to show up.”
You don’t mean to talk so much, yet the words effortlessly fall from your lips, quickly becoming overwhelmed with the party goers—and the quiet older Miller staring you down.
“You alright?” Tommy questions, raising his eyebrow in concern at your panic.
“Just…overwhelmed, lotta people here.” Humming quietly, you bow your head into the grass, staring at the small pale insects deep in the dirt. Joel instantly makes you start to second guess your actions just with his eyes—all without saying a word.
“We were just ‘bout to leave. Gonna head over to the gas station ‘n pick up some beers, you're welcome to join us.”
Tommy’s inquisition makes your ears perk up, more than ready to abandon whatever plans you had at the party tonight. “Okay, sounds good actually, thanks.”
Tommy looks over at his brother, yet Joel’s face remains stone cold. “Joel, you alive over there?
He doesn’t look at Tommy, instead he chooses to keep his eyes on you, holding eye contact as he lets out a grumble.
“You still comin’?” Tommy pushes, and you watch as Joel finally looks away from you, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, swallowing his spit.
“Yep,” he speaks, and you can barely hear him, his voice hoarse and raspy, his hand coming up to push his hat down over his eyes.
Joel stood there similarly to you, his awkward intimidating presence a much starker difference than his lively brother, Joel not bothering to talk to you.
It wasn’t that you were trying to irritate him, and you truly believed you’ve never actually done nothing wrong to him—but each time he’d stare at you, you were met with the same look in his eyes of pure indifference.
The same look he’s doing right now as you turned your head to look at him, his broad body standing firmly in place. His eyes met yours as he cleared his throat, cautiously taking a single step forward.
Joel knows you—well, he kinda knows you. He knows of your parents, far too old to pay attention to whatever their promiscuous daughter got up to.
He remembered the first time he met you, he was helping your dad replace his brake pads one early summer morning, his sweat dripping down his face into the collar of his shirt thanks to the Texas heat.
Bent over, he heard your flip flops clomping against the cement when you stepped into the garage, your voice sickeningly sweet as you asked your father for some cash to go shopping.
Joel peered up at the noise, his ears perking up your sugary feminine voice, and when he saw you? He knew you were it—a cute little thing, far too young for him, yet that didn’t stop his eyes catching on the flesh of your thighs hanging out your denim shorts.
He watched you stand next to your father, your eyes glazed with a hint of manipulation as you silently begged for the cash.
As he breathed in, letting the air fill his lungs full of breath he didn’t realize he'd been holding, he instantly got a whiff of your strong smelling perfume—the fruity substance just as sweet as your voice, he quickly grew dizzy in the large garage. As his sweaty hands stuck to the metal of the car, he wondered to himself if it was you or the humidity that had this effect on him.
Your father didn’t bat an eye at your presence, instead he smiled brightly, showing you his teeth, lovingly pulling you into his side. He balled his hand into a fist, carelessly messing your hair up with his closed palm.
Joel attempted to listen to what he mumbled in your ear, yet it was quiet enough to not pick up his words, and he couldn’t help his eyes fall back onto your face.
He watched as you giggled, kissing your father on the cheek, you thanked him loudly for the money, waltzing back into the house, but right before you closed the door—you smiled at him, the apples of your cheeks shining as your eyes crinkled, and Joel knew he was in trouble.
Less than a week later, on an evening where Joel came home late from work, he pulled into his driveway, the brim of his hat not helping in his favor as the setting sun burned orange hues in his eyes. As he approached the garage, something caught his eye—there you stood, twirling your hair between your fingertips, giggling at some nonsense Tommy was spewing.
Joel felt puzzled, his brother—and you? Hitting it off? He simply couldn’t believe it, Tommy was cocky and raunchy, and a girl like you wouldn’t be caught dead being friendly with a guy like him.
He felt a sour feeling tucked tightly in his abdomen, jealousy creeping itself up deep inside of him, and he quickly began to hate the feeling.
He was green with envy as he shut the truck off, the roaring engine coming to a silence, he stepped out his seat, rounding the truck to grab his paperwork out of his tool chest.
Joel could instantly tell his presence cut your conversation short, and when he walked up the pavement—his instinct was right, watching as Tommy gripped your arm, nodding his head at whatever you were whispering.
Joel didn’t look over as he brushed shoulders with Tommy, the action hard enough he stumbled, but Joel paid no mind, slamming the front door behind him.
Tommy causally brought you up in conversation that night, doting on how funny you were, the two of you having a lot in common. Joel couldn’t hide the snarl that appeared on his face as Tommy babbled on about his new connection with the cute girl across the street.
As if God was playing a cruel joke on him, Joel always saw you outside after that, typically with little to no clothes on, parading around your yard doing god knows what.
Sometimes he’d catch you outside next to his own backyard, swimming or tanning—you always greeted him with that same big smile, and Joel couldn’t stop himself from staring at you.
He felt dirty—and maybe he was, always turning around, hiding himself behind the white fence, swiftly adjusting himself in his suddenly too tight jeans.
He began to wonder why you never started a conversation with him and why it seemed like everyone got a chance to get to know you except for Joel, and that began to piss him off.
From that moment on, he constantly caught himself looking out his window, hoping to see you in the grass, ready to finally talk to him, but for Joel? The world never worked out correctly, and when he finally saw you out the window, it was a much different sight than he expected.
The clock rapidly blinked in the pitch black bedroom, the green flashing lights shined brightly at Joel, reading just a couple minutes past midnight.
Cursing to himself—he was exhausted, the long days and even later nights were starting to eat at him mentally, finding himself unable to fall asleep easily nowadays, his work schedule not helping.
Throwing the covers off his legs, he decided to get out of bed, maybe walk around the house and get a glass of water, striving to reset his mind from the unnerving task of sleeping.
Running a hand over his eyes, he looked over to his cracked window, the cool air filling the bedroom in a comfortable manner. Walking up to the window, he leaned himself on its steep edge, peering outside into the night.
As his eyes adjusted to the warm street lighting, he instantly caught something in his tired gaze, there stood you—completely bare, inches away from your own open bedroom window.
Maybe it was too much over the counter sleep medicine, or maybe he shouldn’t have had a beer after dinner that evening—surley, his eyes were deceiving him.
But there you were, your bare spine glistening in the soft light of your bedroom, the warm hues from what he presumed to be your lamp, hugged the curve of your plump ass. Your silhouette somehow appeared to glow through the closed window—even from hundreds of feet away.
Holding a white towel in your hands, you shimmied it side by side, delicately ridding yourself of the droplets of water that trickled down your body from your late night shower.
Joel’s heart fell into his stomach, his blood pressure instantly turning his ears pink, he cautiously hid himself behind the navy curtains.
Rapidly blinking his sleep deprived eyes, he attempted to rid himself of your image but it was no use—like each time he sees you, your essence burns a perfect cutout tucked away deep inside his memories.
He felt like a teenage boy once again, peeping on his attractive much older neighbor—yet this time it felt increasingly dirtier, you were young—too young to be gawked at like a piece of meat, but Joel couldn’t stop himself, feeling the same growth in his pants he's felt all week long, and with each time you being the cause.
Bringing a hand down to palm himself, his nostrils exhaled the underlying tension he was holding in, feeling his cock jerk in the combines of his sweats.
Watching you was an adrenaline rush he never knew he needed, his eyes trailing your bare frame as you bent over, fumbling in your wooden dresser.
Joel’s breath stuttered as he gripped himself through the cotton, his dick rock hard at the sight of you, and he couldn’t help himself from pulling the elastic waistband down—his cock wildly springing up to his stomach, his typical pink tip reddened and angry.
Stroking himself, Joel watched as you pulled your panties over your ass, hiding the delicious view of your ass. Joel bit his lip, thinking of how soft and plush your thighs were, watching how they jiggled as you turned around.
Joel collected a loogie of spit, letting it fall onto his cock with a small ‘tut’, he rubbed it on himself, the wet squelching filling his bedroom. He pounded his free hand against the wall in a fist, the cool smooth paint against his calloused hand, but all he could think about was how you’d feel on his cock.
Your unaware movements caused Joel’s knees to buckle, your swollen breasts now in his view, your nipples looking right back at him. He turned his view to your face in an attempt to not cum so quickly, and he was unable to tell your exact emotion spread across your face, yet your features were much softer alone in the relaxing moonlight.
Raising your arms, you quickly scrambled into a cut-off white tank top, the hem tickling right under your breasts. The covering was incredibly thin—so thin Joel could see the outline of your pebbled nipples.
He began to feel disappointed, the show ended as quickly as it started, but Joel was so enamored by you—and he could feel his balls tightening, growing increasingly close to his release.
His hand was rapid against his cock, pumping it as fast as he could, the motion burned deep in the muscles of his inner thighs but then—he saw it, your eyes looking over in the direction of his house.
You looking in his direction caused his hips to buck in his hand, you none the wiser; had no idea someone was watching you—touching themselves at your naked body.
The concept was so juvenile and dirty, it caused Joel to cum hard and fast, his cum spurting down his hand, making a mess of his sweatpants.
After an outfit change, Joel finally slept well that night, dreaming about you, and when he finally could get his hands on you.
You think he’s going to finally say something to you—finally address you like you mean something, but instead, he pivots his movements—his boots kicking up a small mountain of dirt as he turned around, heading over to the parked truck.
You could tell Tommy’s teasing was beginning to effect Joel, his jaw ticking each time Tommy opened his mouth, the bones tightening in his face so strongly, the tenseness spreading to his neck, highlighting his veins.
“We takin’ my truck?” Joel questions, the first time he’s really spoken up in front of you today.
“Nope,” Tommy responds quickly, his lips popping the ‘p’ sound. “Gotta take mine, was gonna fill up my tank, ‘s almost about on empty."
Joel shivered at the inclination, Tommy’s truck couldn’t fit the three of you, hell—it could barely fit him and Tommy. The red two-seater truck was old and cluttered, the middle console so tall it could barely squeeze a second body in, let alone three.
“Ain’t enough seats for three.” Joel grumbles, furrowing his eyebrows.
You look at Tommy, his lips spread into a smug smile, and back at Joel—his face ghostly white at the idea of having to take you with them.
“Where am I supposed to sit?” You question, butting in their brotherly conversation with a curious glint in your eyes.
Tommy pats your hip, wiggling his eyebrows. “Hey that’s alright, me n you can share a seat.”
Joel blinks hard at Tommy, watching how he raises his eyebrow at you, his lip curled into a cocky smirk. There’s no way in hell Joel is going to let that happen.
“No chance I’m driving your truck, last time I did the tire fell off the axle.” Joel blurts out, his words charged in dominance.
Tommy sighs at Joel, staring at him with the knowing brotherly look in his eyes you can’t quite decipher.
“Then how about yall share the passenger seat then, just a couple minutes away, shouldn’t be too big of a deal right?”
Joel gets into the truck first, his boots flicking up the dirt stuck to the running board, his knuckle gripping the handrail with a groan.
He adjusts his legs against the floorboards, graciously giving you enough room as he spreads them wide, your own personal seat for the next uncomfortable sweaty minutes.
Shakily, you mimic his movements, grabbing onto the hand rail, you yank yourself up into the truck, clumsily landing in between his open thighs.
The position wasn’t terrible, you just felt awkward—sitting on a man’s lap who’s barely ever uttered a word to you made you feel funny, you could feel the clammy sticky skin of your lower back against his forearms, the uncomfortable situation already beginning to swirl deep inside your belly.
Bump.
Bump.
Bump.
Tommy should have told you he was taking the backroads, the terrain uneven and filled with potholes.
It was growing impossible to hold still on top of Joel’s lap, each time the truck plowed into a pothole—you couldn’t control your movements, your ass rubbing directly in between Joel’s legs, the friction driving straight into his cock.
You tried to force your weight into the balls of your feet in an attempt to relieve the tension on Joel—but it was impossible, each time you’d go over a hump in the ground, you’d end up right where you started, directly on his clothed cock.
You could tell it was affecting him by the way his hands flew down onto each side of your hips, gripping the flesh in his palms. His big hands held you so tightly his fingertips were sure to leave bruises in the soft flesh.
The short ride seemed much longer with Joel pressed against you like this. Arching your back—you could feel the outline of his cock against the inside of your thigh, the large imprint poking into your ass.
You tried to distract yourself from the tense situation, focusing on the dirty floor, the build up of sawdust so strong it ticked your nose, but you were unable to stay focused—especially when Joel’s hands swallowed your waist so easily, you caught yourself tracing his veins with your eyes.
“Tommy, outta all the ways you coulda went, why the hell you’d pick this one?” Joel questions, his gravely voice vibrating behind you.
Joel can feel you let out a shaky sigh against him, your back moving against his belly.
If you could only hear what Joel was thinking, or—what his dick is thinking, you’d probably scramble off of him, hell—you’d probably ride back home in the trunk with the metal tool box, far away from his perverted self.
“You saw how busy the street was, ain’t no way I was drivin’ through that fuckin’ crowd.” Tommy bites back, and you can’t help the feeling in your gut of nervousness, maybe you shouldn’t have come along with them, the air in the truck suddenly feeling suffocating.
In an attempt to get some fresh air, your arm reaches over to the passenger side door, pushing your finger down onto the window button, you hear it screech as it rolls down, the warm wind beginning to blow your hair back.
Catching a glimpse out the open window, the hot air flows into the truck as you stare blankly into the open fields, watching the sun begin to dip below the horizon.
But one particular swerve of the car causes your body to jump in the air, and as you land down against Joel’s legs you see him staring at your face through the passenger side mirror.
He looked angrier than the last time you saw his face, his lips pursed into a tight line, the irises of his eyes deepened into a dark black—frustratingly staring directly into his target—you.
Joel wasn’t holding up well, your ass feeling much better against him than he could ever imagined, and oh was he was growing mad— his body furious at how oblivious you seemed to the situation, he was sure that you were purposely rubbing yourself on him in an attempt to rile him up, and Joel was seconds away from snapping.
Joel angled his hips in such a way to feel the space where your thighs met between your cunt, the feeling instantly gratifying—your weight snug against his dripping cock.
The feeling made him quickly grow dizzy, and he could smell your sugary perfume mixing into your sweat—the smell causing his tastebuds to wetten.
He watched how your face seemed scared and uncomfortable, your wide eyed gaze staring back into his through the mirror made him want to take you right there in front of Tommy—that will show him, show him who you’ve belonged to this whole time.
The idea of taking you now, slipping his cock out of his jeans and pushing your panties to the side was a wet dream for another night fisting his cock alone.
Joel was too focused right now, remaining calm with your body on him in the tight angle—the gravel under the tires vibrating your ass onto his dick.
The heat omitting from your barely covered cunt seeped through the denim of his pants, you continuously tried to take your ass of his cock, yet the movement causes your skirt to raise up your thick thighs, placing your thinly veiled pussy right onto his cock, and he could ever so slightly feel the pulsating squeezes from your cunt.
Tommy remains completely oblivious to what’s occurring beside him, humming to the song that plays low on the radio and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
As the truck finally pulled into the gas station, Joel couldn’t help himself from “accidentally” pushing his hips up into yours, and he couldn’t hide his chuckle that slipped from his throat when he heard a small squeak slip past your own lips.
You couldn’t wait for Tommy to unlock the truck, pushing the button yourself—you peeled off Joel and out of the truck quickly standing on your wobbly legs, desperately trying to get yourself out of the uncomfortable situation.
“Gonna go use the restroom,” mumbling, you tucked your arms over your chest, staring back down at the beige gas station pavement.
The lights from the sign buzzed in your ears as you waltzed over to the glass door, pushing your body into it, the bell rang as you walked inside, heading straight to the only bathroom at the back of the store.
Joel watched your hips bounce while you ran away from him, and Joel wasn’t going to let you get the chance to slip away once again. He’s been waiting on this moment for far too long, a chance to finally get you alone.
He takes one look at Tommy, mumbling an excuse about buying the beer, he hops out of the truck—following you inside.
The shifty bathroom smells of stale disinfectant and mold, the old rusted lock barley works as you attempt to wiggle it shut, a sliver of the isles still leaking through the small crack on the side of the door.
Turning the faucet on cold, you push down on the plastic soap containers grey button with your palm, fighting with the thick old soap that refuses to drip down.
Cursing to yourself, you bang the side of it, watching as it tumbles off the wall and down onto the floor with a loud shatter, the contraption busting wide open, pink slimy soap seeping on the vintage tiled flooring.
“Shit!” You curse to yourself, bending down to clean up your growing mess, you don’t hear the door creeking open over the faucet pouring water down the drain.
“The fuck was that?”
His voice startles you, jumping so hard you feel as if your heart stopped, you look over in the direction—instantly knowing who it is.
“What?” You question, wondering if he heard the crash echo through the thin walls, but your response only pushes his temper further.
Joel steps further into the bathroom, pushing himself up against the wall, making sure to actually lock the rusted door into place.
“Shit, don’t you look at me like that, you know exactly what you were doin’.”
Your stomach sinks further at his admission, the adrenaline pumping in your blood. “I-I didn’t mean to, I swear!” You exclaim, your eyes wide and desperate as you defend yourself. “Went to get soap and it fell off the wall.”
“What?” He scoffs, looking at you then the disheveled container. “I…I ain’t talking about that.”
Joel takes a step forward, the floor creaking underneath his boots as he closes you in.
“Fuck, you got no clue what you’re doin’ to me do ya?”
You really don’t mean to irritate him, even though he came into the bathroom you were using, you still feel like at nuisance, his aggressive demeanor making you feel small.
“Is this about the truck? You could have drove, Tommy said-”
“Don’t you bring him up right now,” Joel’s voice ticks, his eyes darkening.
You watch him in the reflection of the mirror slowly steps forward, his frame easily filling up the small bathroom. Squinting, you brace yourself—having nowhere to hide, the feeling of him brushing up against you makes the hairs on your arms prickle.
The lighting is hazy in the bathroom, the hissing green hues distorting his face, and like a hunter hunting his prey—Joel has finally caught you right where he wants you.
Gripping your hip, he pushes you back onto his hard cock, and you can instantly feel him against you, the denim tight from his swollen cock—all from your teasing.
“You feel that? Been doing this to me since you met me, prancing ‘round outside like a slut, never payin’ me any fucking attention.”
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you watch as he bends your spine down lower, forcing you to arch your back. Your shirt lifts up at the position, feeling the cold porcelain on the freed skin of your belly.
Joel absentmindedly grinds his cock into your ass, watching every quirk of your face through the mirror. He feels bad for what he’s about to do, but you’ve been teasing him for far too long and a man can only take so much.
“All on purpose right? Trying to get me riled up? Well shit it’s working.” He spits, his words like venom, and in some sick way—you feel your wet cunt get even slicker, rolling your hips back into his, meeting his movements.
“Answer me.” Joel orders, his tongue clicking.
He slides his free hand up your spine, and you can feel his calloused fingers twitch ever so slightly through the material of your top.
His hand travels up towards your head, his fingertips grazing the hairs nestled at the nape of your neck. His hand coasts around to your face, his palm resting snugly against your chin, he forces you to stare back at him in the cracked mirror.
“Yes I-yes, ‘s all on purpose. ‘m sorry,” you manage to choke out, giving into his sick game, his cock feeling too good against your covered pussy.
“You ain’t sorry, actin’ all sweet, ‘s an act ain’t it?” Joel whispers into your ear, bending his body weight onto you.
His belly crushes your frame, unable to breathe as your chest is pressed so deep into the sink, you can smell the fruity soap swirling deep downwards the drain, yet you remain focused on him, your eyes meeting his.
“Yes, been wanting you Joel, just too scared to talk to you.”
“Yeah? Things ‘bout to be real scary, shoulda been good, spoken up in the first place.” Joel scoffs, finally pulling himself off your body.
The hand that remains on your side comes down the hem of your skirt, he has you believing he’s going to pull it off, but he doesn’t bother—instead pushing the flimsy fabric up past your hips, he uncovers your cunt, barely confined inside of your cotton panties.
“All it took was one word,” Joel mumbles, more so to himself as he throws his head down against his chest, fumbling with his belt buckle.
“Woulda took ya out, nice dinner.”
You can hear the metal of his zipper pulling against the grain of teeth, the denim brushing in his hands as he yanks them down to his knees.
“Took ya back to mine and fucked ya real nice ‘n slow.” Joel hisses, and you can tell it’s from his cock hitting the cold air from behind you, even though he’s not focused on your face, your me focused on his, watching him as if smoke will erupt from his ears in anger.
“It’s a shame, taking such a pretty thing in such a nasty fucking bathroom.”
He finally looks back at you, his head shaking in disappointment, he takes a hand down to your soaked puffy cunt, pulling your panties to the side in such aggression, the fabric burns, scratching on your inner thighs.
“But you want that don’t you? A dirty fuck for a dirty girl.”
And with that, Joel pushes his cock into your entrance, stuffing you full of his thick red tip, the head already filling you up as you mewl, the feeling ripping your thighs open.
Your jaw turns slack at the stretch, choking on your breath; the feeling of his cock is incomparable to anything you’ve ever felt before. You were far from a virgin, but for someone this big and strong, your cunt couldn’t take it, squeezing down hard on his cock in an attempt to still his movements.
“J-Joel, you’re hurtin’ me.” You cry, begging for him to give you a chance to take him, yet he smirks at you in the mirror, his lip curling just barely enough you almost miss it.
He’s never heard a painful plea sound so pretty, and he hopes you can forgive him, but when it comes from your pouting distraught lips—he almost busts right then, before he’s even got the chance to fully fuck you yet.
“Good, need ya ta learn a fuckin’ lesson.”
Joel was telling you the truth, he wishes things were different—he would have loved to be a gentleman, do all the sweet things he’s telling you, yet Joel knows himself—he knows what he needs and more so what you can handle.
Pulling himself out of your tight pussy, he watches as your slick coats his dick. He shutters as he slams back in, your warmth sucking him back in; he grabs your hip to stabilize his movements, his thrusts picking up speed.
“Knew you’d be too damn tight, just needed me to loosen ya up huh?” Joel tuts from behind you, his cock ramming so hard into your pussy, you can feel the tip of his dick prodding at your cervix, the tight muscle aching against the protruding presence.
God, Joel feels obsessed with your cunt—the way you pull him inside, it’s everything and more he could have ever imagined. Your velvety walls smooth over the skin of his dick, so soft and wet, makes his legs shake with each thrust.
Your pussys quickly becomes a sopping mess around his dick, feeling him mold himself into the perfect shape in your cunt; he fucks you deep—each thrust knocking the wind out of you.
“J-Joel, ‘s too much!” You gurgle, gripping on to the sink so tight it begins to shake off the wall, you can see the porcelain's dirt-stained caulk looking back at you.
“Shit you like that don’t ya?” Cursing, Joel grinds his cock into you, his pelvis flush fo your ass.
Your hands react faster than your brain can realize, throwing your arms back, your right arm instantly finds Joel’s neck, pulling him closer.
Joel’s quick to respond—spreading his large hand over the expanse of exposed skin on your belly, he rushes his palm up the flesh, his hand rubbing your shirt off your chest.
The fabric gives at your breasts, watching in the mirror as Joel manhandles flimsy fabric off the fat of your chest, exposing your soft breasts—you watch him carelessly touching you in the mirror as if he owns you.
“Looks even better up close,” Joel breathes into your neck, bunching the fabric of your top so far up your body it begins to rub angrily at your neck.
The grinding sensation he’s giving you is too dull for the intensity you’re craving. You push your ass onto him—pushing his hips backward in an attempt to use his cock for your own pleasure.
Joel pulls back slightly, watching the way you take his cock all by yourself, the noise of your ass clapping echoing off the walls and deep into his eardrums causes him to shudder.
“Fucking yourself using my cock, lookin’ so damn pretty.” Joel coos, approving your movements.
But Joel has waited for this moment for far too long, and he would be crass to allow you to use him like this, he much rather use you—just like he planned
He grips you tightly around him, pushing his belly deep into your spine, his arm comes around your neck; his bicep sitting snug around your throat.
You let out a gargled moan at the new angle, his cock tilting itself just right it begins to rock fast against your g-spot.
“Tell me how good I feel, hell—can see it in your face, just how bad you want this dick.” Joel pushes, not wanting you to be quiet.
He needs to hear every single squeak out of your mouth, the need for your pretty little voice to scream his name would be a stroke of his ego he could only imagine in his dreams and he’s so close to getting it—knowing exactly what you need from him.
He brings the hand on your hip down in between your legs, pushing his pointer finger and middle finger on your clit, he begins to rabidly rub the bead, the feeling making your eyes roll into the back of your head.
His skilled fingers are too much for your body to handle, the feeling only intensified by the bicep around your throat, you can’t help but feel breathless, your moans becoming raspy as he holds your limp, fucked out body up.
He can feel your cunt fluttering around his cock, your legs clenching around his hand tells him you're close and Joel isn’t far behind, his balls skin tight as they slap loudly onto your skin.
“How ‘bout I cum inside ya? Make you prance around town with my fucking kid in yer belly?”
His words make your belly quiver, imagining Joel out of all people in town to be the one to claim your cunt as his makes you feel a way you’ve never felt before—his seed knocking you up in an aged gas station bathroom is disgusting—yet so satisfying you can’t help but moan out in agreement.
“Can feel ya clenching on me doll, shit-know you want it, want my cum inside of ya like a slut.” Joel babbles, himself coming closer to his release.
Joel cums before you, his girthy cock spurting thick ropes of his seed deep into your walls, you can feel the cum seeping deep past your cervix.
“Cmon, gotta feel ya cum for me baby.”
His words do it for you, pushing your knees together, your body begins to shake, your bones prickling with stars as your muscles burn. Your orgasm snaps through you like a rubberband, Joel having no choice but to help you stand up straight, your legs feeling like jelly.
As you cum, Joel’s hand comes down on your clit, slapping the puffy bead into overstimulation, you scream out loud, your knuckles turning pale on the edge of the sink.
Screaming, you thrash around his grasp, using both of your hands to release yourself against his angry palm, he finally lets off your pleading cunt, your clit throbbing in agony.
“Gotta take it out, ‘s gonna sting.”
Pulling out, his cum instantly falls from your stretched out cunt, the warm clear liquid seeping down your legs, Joel is quick to rip a paper towel, wetting it in the bathroom sink.
Swiping it up your cunt, you hiss in discomfort—although it’s a nice gesture after he abused your cunt, the scratchy surface of the towel burns the inside of your thighs, each wipe of his hand hurting more than the next.
“I’ll see ya outside,” Joel mutters under his breath, “gotta buy beer, ‘s what I came in here for.”
You watch as he zips up his jeans, the dark spot of precum dampening against his denim catches in the light as he walks out the bathroom, leaving you in your messy clothes, ass and tits out with his cum still seeping out of your pussy.
Confusion washes over you, and if you thought you didn’t understand him before—you sure as hell don’t get him now.
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