The same man that should have been ready by now. To attend the clubs gala that was being hosted in his honour. But how could he?
His hand holding your thigh apart. The other holding your hand in his. Placing feather light kisses on the back of your hand to your knuckles. The innocent kisses soon turn sinful as he turns his head to place the same soft attention on your clit.
You suck in a breath. Lips parted as you looked down at him, hand squeezing his till your fingertips were white. He looked satisfied, so satisfied.
His tongue flicking and gathering your arousal untill he swallowed it down like it's a treat. Taking your clit between his lips as he sucked, grazing his teeth softly against it. You let out a mewl. Head tilting back.
"Art— baby", you moaned. The sheets clinging to your skin as you arch your back. The room filled with whines and moans. Not just yours.
It didn't take long before Art was moaning against your cunt. Each lick and suck accompanied with a moan or whimper. As if the taste was something he craved more than his will to live.
If he could shove his face in your cunt and not be able to breathe, he'll gladly take that if it meant he could taste you for hours on end. Till his lips are numb and face drenched with spit and your arousal.
His tongue trailer down your folds as it settled on your entrance. His free hand spreading you open for him to look and fuck, he could look at her for hours.
He placed a kiss on your clit again, making you shut your eyes. Sharp intake of breath. Your hole clenched around nothing. Making him smile and bite his lips. "So greedy. . .", he muttered before licking a long stripe up again.
His tongue delving into your hole as far as he could. Moving the muscle like he knew he could. His nose pressed against your clit making your hips squirm.
You opened you eyes as you looked down at him. His eyes already on you. You clenched around his tongue. His brows furrowed, his eyes hazy. Like he could die right now and he'd swear that he could be the happiest man dying.
The room filled with the sinful noises of slurping, whines and muffled moans. Along with the ringing of his phone that demanded his presence at the party.
you’re patrick zweig’s daughter and art is going through a divorce.
warning: smut,possible challengers spoilers,spanking, dom art, age gap.
Art’s divorce wasn’t half of what he expected. After the challenger he finally took the courage to confront Tashi about her relationship with Patrick. She didn’t deny a thing about his assumptions. So naturally he couldn’t stay married to her any longer. All of the disrespect hung over his head as a reminder of their relationship and he simply could not bare it any more.
His heart ached for his daughter Lily, which he could now see only on weekends. She didn’t know the real reason of his divorce, of course. He didn’t want to paint Tashi as the villain, even if she was for the most part.
He finally retired. All the pressure washing off of him the moment he made that press statement. He would still be active in the tennis scene, but not as much. Maybe he would coach a little, but that was it. Everything about tennis reminded him of Tashi and he couldn’t stand it.
That’s when you come into place. You’re Patrick’s daughter, he had you when he was a reckless 20 year old who bed hopped every girl he could find in his tournaments. Well until you came along, of course. Your mother was young and she couldn’t afford to raise you so she abandoned you on his doorstep with a note that said “This is your problem now,asshole”. He always hid that from you. He was an asshole, but he loved you. You made him a right man. From that day onwards he raised you as best as he could.
He brought you to his tournaments, letting his team babysit you when he couldn’t afford to pay someone else to do it. Growing up you knew about his strange relationship with Tashi and Art. Some times he would praise them, some others he’d tell you they were evil rich people. You never figured out the truth. You’ve met them a couple times, when you were little. You thought Art looked like an angel with those golden curls of his. Actually you were pretty convinced about it. Once you told your dad an he laughed “Angels can still be evil,sweetheart” he said.
Your dad wanted you to make a career out of tennis, just what he couldn’t do. You had a lot of tennis coaches growing up but no one was up for the job, at least that’s what your dad said.
After the challenger, your dad and Art regained contact, to everyone’s surprise. He supported him through his divorce and Art was very grateful to him.Even if he was the reason for the divorce in the first place. He saw him like a sort of liberation.
So when Patrick asked him if you could use his tennis court for practicing, he couldn’t say no. Patrick was out of money after paying for your college tuition. He simply couldn’t afford to waste more money on a country club pass.You offered to take a job but he said it was his duty as a father to provide for you. So you stopped insisting and accepted to go to Art’s villa for practicing before every big match.
You were good, well not good as the two of them but you managed to win most of the matches you attended. Now you had your own challenger to prepare for so naturally you had to practice harder than usual. You drive to Art’s insanely big villa and ring to his door taking in the intimidating white building before you.
He opens the door just a few seconds after you rang. He stands before you with an awkward smile to his face. His hair is shorter than you remembered but he still looks like the angel from your younger years. He’s dressed pretty casual, just some sweats and a t-shirt that clings to his biceps. He takes you in, you’ve grown into a beautiful young woman and he can’t help but check you out. Your tennis skirt rests above your thigh and your top clings to your skin, squeezing your curves tightly. You hold onto the heavy tennis bag on your shoulder and you offer him a smile.
“Umh hi. Dad said you would lend me your tennis court for practice” your voice is tinted with a bit of shyness and you shift your weight from a leg to the other.
“Yeah, yes of course sorry i forgot. Please come in” he steps away from the door to let you in and then he closes it behind you.
“It’s right out here” he starts walking towards the backyard and you follow him closely. You lurk around his house before he opens the glass door that leads to his obnoxiously big tennis court.
“Wow you’re rich rich” you comment stepping out into the court. He huffs a laugh and walks towards you “You have everything you need out here but if you’re struggling with something don’t hesitate to call me” his tone is sweet and reassuring “I’ll be inside”.
“Thank you, Art” he heads back inside the house with a nod.
You don’t know what to do with yourself. You feel clumsy and awkward in your skin. You walk around the court, testing how the pavement feels on you old tennis shoes. You put your bag down and look for your racket.
When you start practicing you’re oblivious to the fact that Art is staring down at you from his bedroom’s balcony. He fixes his eyes on your movements,your stance, the way you serve. How your tennis skirt swings back and forth as if it was made to tempt him. As if you wanted him to see the curve of your ass cheeks hugging the safety shorts under it. Your thighs, your perfect thighs bounce at every jump, every swing of your wrist.
He shakes his head and sighs. What the fuck is he thinking about? That’s Patrick’s daughter for fuck’s sake. He has seen you crawl and learn how to walk what the hell is wrong with him. His hand massages his jaw. Jesus it has been too long since he has last gotten laid, he can’t be thinking about you like this.
Your movements are good but not perfect. He can’t stop thinking about how it would be like to coach you. His hands on your hips, helping you get the right stance, but lingering a bit too long. Fuck he needs a cold shower. His sweats are starting to get tight. This is so messed up.
He feels gross when he strokes himself in the shower thinking about you. His thumb brushing his tip imagining it was your tongue teasing him, tasting him “Fuck”.
*
When you finish your training the sky is turning darker, shades of orange and pink melting together. You decide you’ve trained enough for the day. Your calves burn and you’re exhausted. Training alone is harder than you remembered. You fumble through your bag to look for your iron flask but it’s not there. You probably forgot it home.
You take a breath and bring the tennis bag on your shoulder. You slide the glass door that separates the court from the rest of the house. It’s quiet, the only sound that echoes is Art’s typing on his computer. Sitting on the counter’s stool. He looks up when he hears your steps. You’re sweaty and your shirt clings to your body more than usual. Your hair is messy and he watches you putting it up in a bun after you place your heavy tennis bag down. He tries to stable himself taking a breath and then he speaks.
“Hey you okay?”
“Yeah i just forgot my water, could i have some?”
He nods and stands up to grab you a bottle of water from the fridge. He steps closer to you and hands it. You accept it with a small smile. You look exhausted. He looks at you drink the cold water, your eyes closed to savor it. You must have been really thirsty. His gaze lingers to your throat and then back up at you. He clears his voice with a cough “Did you have a good training?”
When you’re done you’ve drank almost half the bottle. You close it and sigh “Yeah, it’s just harder training alone and i’m not used to it”
Oh. You shouldn’t have said that. You can see how Art’s eyes lit up and how his eyebrow quirks up “I could give you a hand if you wanted”
He’s just helping out his friend’s daughter right? There’s nothing wrong with that.
“Oh it’s okay i wouldn’t want to bug you, you’re already allowing me to practice here” your lips press together and you shift your weight. Why is he being so nice to you? You’re Patrick’s daughter that’s true but you didn’t expect him to be so…helpful? willing?
You take a good look at him, he has changed his clothes. He’s wearing shorts now, giving you a nice view of his trained thighs. His hair is a bit damp. Did he take a shower?
“You won’t i promise” he gives you a smile that could make weak even the sharpest of minds, so it definitely makes you, weak in the knees. You blame it on the training “I’m not doing anything these days” he adds, as if that would make you feel any better. Art Donaldson dedicating his full attention to you and you only made you a bit lightheaded.
“Okay coach, see you on monday”
That night you touched yourself in the quiet of your room, you came whispering his name.
*
It wasn’t that much of a big deal. You had a little crush on him and you thought it was only fair! You weren’t blind he was too gorgeous to not notice. It’s not like you would have actually made a move, he was your dad’s friend and you had a noticeable age gap.
The only thing you could do was enjoy his presence while it lasted, and maybe tease him a little bit. Your tennis skirts had gotten dangerously shorter and your shirts squeezed the plump skin of your breasts, all on purpose.
You didn’t think he would notice. How wrong you were.
When you got to his house on monday he opened the door like he was standing beside it, waiting for you to ring the doorbell. He greeted you like he always did. He had his tennis gear on. Blue shorts and a white top that made his muscles pop.
He slides the glass door open for you and you walk out to the court, breathing in the cold morning air.
“Did your tell your dad i offered to train you?”
His voice came from behind you. Your hand was above your forehead as a shield to cover your eyes from the sun. You shake your head.
“I didn’t”
He stands beside you now. You hear him sigh. His hands itch to reach you, touch you, tell you he has noticed how you’ve dressed, just for him.
“Let’s start” he says instead grabbing a racket for you. You thank him and stand on the other side of the court.
You miss a lot of serves. You’re just too distracted by the way his muscles flex in the sun to catch a ball with a racket.
“C’mon y/n get serious”
His voice is almost a scold and you grab onto your racket harder. Why is this turning you on? It’s just tennis.
“Sorry, it’s just really hot” and you’re not wrong, the sun is shining on both of you without a break. Sweat is trailing down your neck.
He reaches your side of the court with long strides.
“Your stance is wrong” he catches her wrist, angling it how it’s supposed to “Open your legs more” you swallow thinking at the double meaning of his sentence. God you wish he’d use that word in another context.
Your perfume is inebriating his lungs as he breathes you in. This is just an excuse to touch you, your stance was pretty good. He wants to feel you. He chooses his words carefully, to try and provoke you. To see if you were actually into doing something like that.
He’s not even thinking about the fact that you’re Patrick’s daughter or that he’s still going through a divorce, when he grips your hips to tilt you how he wants. You can’t help but to let out a little gasp.
“That’s it” his voice is low in your ear and somehow you’re starting to sweat even more, not because of the sun “Thanks,coach”. That word, he knows you’re taunting him. He lets out a deep chuckle “You’re welcome, sweetheart” his hands squeeze your hips and you push them against him.
He stifles a sound and licks his lips. Your breath has become labored and you definitely don’t care about fucking tennis anymore.
“What would your dad think? If he knew how his daughter pushed her hips against mine?” his breath is warm on your ear. All you do is back your hips even more against him. He pushes your hair away from your neck, his finger trailing its skin. You can feel his hardness poking your ass. You clench at the feeling, already feeling a sudden dampness in your underwear.
Goosebumps flood your skin in an instant “Art i- we- this is wrong”
“But you thought teasing me wasn’t? You think i haven’t noticed your skirt getting shorter? Or how you look at me?” he leaves kisses on your neck. You breath shudders.
“Stop acting so innocent. I know it’s wrong” he gives your hips another squeeze “Do you want me to stop?”
It’s embarrassing how your head shakes instantly when he finishes speaking.
“That’s what i thought” the racket falls from your hands the moment his teeth graze your skin. He bites and kisses your neck, his hold on you so strong.
“Art, please” he growls against your skin. He spins you around so you’re facing him. His hand caresses your cheek and you lean into the touch, holding eye contact. His fingers fiddle with the cotton of your shirt. He wants to see you. He pulls your shirt off your head and he lets out a whine when he sees you’re not wearing a bra.
“I knew it, you’re so desperate for me to notice you aren’t you?” he thumbs one of your nipples which hardens instantly. Moans slip from your lips “I wanted you to touch me so bad”
He grins before latching his lips with yours in a hungry and urgent kiss. Tongues finding each other immediately. He hasn’t done this in a while but still, he hasn’t lost his touch.
“Bend over the net” it’s not a request, more like an order. Your eyes flash with want as he leads you backwards to the net. You bend over it giving him a nice view of your perky ass. He slides his hand over it, caressing and squeezing as much as he can. You look over your shoulder to watch him. He slides off the skirt that has haunted his sleep ever since he saw you wear it.
Your panties have a floral pattern. He can’t help but smile at the sight.
Suddenly he’s reminded of the situation ahead of him. He’s about to fuck Patrick’s daughter. The one he bought little tennis shoes for when she was just 6 years old, that same little girl is now bent at his mercy. The thought is eating at his brain.
“Art? What’s wrong?” your voice snaps him awake. He shakes his head and tries to burry those thoughts deep inside of him “Nothing baby” he gives you a reassuring smile and pats your ass with his big hand. He cups the curve of it and he can’t help but think how it would bounce if he’d slap it.
“Would you like if i gave your pretty ass a little slap? Would you be okay with that?” he keeps moving his hands on your curves in a soothing manner “Yeah” you mutter. The thought only turns you on and makes your cunt clench around air. You push your hips towards him.
“So eager” he leaves a kiss on your shoulder before giving your bum a smack with his calloused hand. The impact provokes little waves to form on your whole cheek “Is this okay?” he caresses where he just slapped, some redness starts to creep from her skin. You hum encouraging him to do him again, which he does, harder. You whimper under his touch, the stamp of his hand starts to show on your soft cheek.
“You’re such a good girl” his praises go straight to your core, your panties are damp. He slides them off and a string of your wetness connects the panties to your folds. He groans at the sight, his erection throbbing in his tennis shorts. He spreads your legs apart and blows some air right in your entrance. The cold air makes you gasp and tremble.
“Fuck, Art give it to me” your hips bounce backwards to him, his nose bumping your ass. He spanks you again and it makes you whine “Ask nicer” he watches your every move. How you seem to cry out and crave his touch, how good you look mercifully bent over for him “Please fuck me Art”
“Jesus baby do you kiss your dad with that mouth?” he teases you grabbing a handful of your ass “I don’t want to think about my dad right now”. He agrees with a hum and slides a finger inside of you, he twists it and curls it just enough to make your legs tremble. When he adds another finger your hips buckle backwards to meet his slow thrusts. The sound of your wetness makes his cock twitch in pain.
Which reminds him he should give it some attention.
“Okay sweetheart stay still for me okay?” he pulls his fingers out you and brings them to his mouth to clean them off while you watch. You bite down your lip as you watch him strip off his clothes. He’s big, it looks like it could tear you apart. You swallow with anticipation, your hips buckling up again.
“Someone’s impatient” he lines himself up to your entrance giving his dick a few strokes “Have you seen your dick? Of course i’m impatient” he laughs, flattered and turned on by your words at the same time.
“You’re not worried that’s going to hurt a bit?” he slides his length between your wet folds. You whine and look back at him over your shoulder “I don’t care”. He grunts at that and pushes the head of his cock inside your entrance, just letting it rest there for a few moments.
You hold yourself onto the net to not push your hips towards him “You behave so well for me” he pushes his cock inch by inch until it rests fully engulfed in your wet and gummy cunt. He leaves kisses on your shoulders as he starts to thrust inside of you. The stretch gives you a nice sting that has you moaning in a matter of seconds.
Your eyes roll out in pleasure while he takes a hold of your hair to guide his movements “Art oh my- it’s so good” you whimper and your pussy clenches around him “Baby, you feel amazing” his teeth sink down his bottom lip.
He looks at his shaft disappearing into you and his body heats up more, moans slipping out from his reddened lips. He leans, hovering on your back and grips one of your breasts, squeezing it and cupping it in his large hand. “Don’t stop” you cry out “I’m so close”
His thrusts start to get deeper, hitting the spot that makes you scream the most. He lets out a satisfied grunt. The way your ass giggles at every thrusts and the soft noises escaping your lips are driving him crazy. He’s in such a haze that nothing else but you come into his mind. Not Tashi and the divorce, not the fact that Patrick’s daughter is wrapped around his cock.
Your hips meet his movements. The hold on the tennis net has become the tiniest bit painful on your hands.
“Art- i’m so close don’t stop” he grins against your skin and his other hand finds your clit, rubbing it in fast motions. It’s so good that you can’t handle it, you feel like you’re about to pass out as your orgasms hits. He catches you before you can fall, his strong hands turning and lifting you up.
He stops “Baby are you okay?” his eyebrows are pinched in worry. He sways your hair off your face, you blink a few times, your head rests on his shoulder. “I’m okay” you sigh against his skin. He kisses your temple. His painful erection is still buried inside of you but the worry that engulfs him is bigger than his need to get off.
He’s a gentleman after all.
He strokes your back as you regain some of your lost breaths. You look up at him, when you find that hint of worry all over his face your gaze softens. You kiss his lips softly, holding the back of his head. “Can i suck your dick?” you whisper to his lips, your forehead touch. He lets out a shaky laugh.
“I’d like that… if you’re really okay” you nod and plant kisses all over his face. He lets you get down and he slips out of you. You immediately feel the emptiness that he leaves. You get on your knees. The tennis pavement is hard on your skin. He lifts your hair up with both hands and guides you where he wants you.
You start sucking, hollowing your cheeks. He hisses and starts to fuck your mouth. The tip of his cock drips pre-cum down your throat, it’s warm and salty. His release starts building up in his stomach.
“Will you swallow for me sweetheart?” his tone is almost pleading, he looks into your watering eyes and you hum around his dick sending vibration straight to his core “Fuck baby” his voice is whiny “You’re such a good girl for me, taking my dick so well” he keeps a strong grip on your hair.
The need to come grows stronger and stronger until he spills inside your mouth with a growl. He fills you with praises, his dick slips off your mouth and he joins you on his knees. He cleans you off of spit with his thumb. Your cheeks are rosy and your eyes are still glossy. He kisses your forehead.
“You’re so perfect for me” you smile and kiss him, he grabs you by the waist, holding you close against him.
“Thanks coach” you smirk against his mouth “God i knew you did that on purpose” he sighs and you giggle leaning on his shoulder. He feels warm and relaxed. The sun is still shining above the two of you.
“Do you want to have a shower?” he asks stroking your back gently “Only if you fuck me in it” his eyes widen but he can’t help but to agree to your request.
a/n: guys i think i might be having a sort of writer’s block… or i simply need some new plot lines to be able to write more. so please if you have any suggestions don’t be shy to ask. i’m looking forward to what you have to say! xx 🩷
summary: in which Art likes to be babied but sometimes he loses his patience
warnings: smut, subart x domfemreader (they switch!)
Art was not the person he let on being in front of everyone. You came to learn that after dating him for the past year. All that confidence and smugness he brought to the tennis court disappeared the second you gave him a single ounce of attention.
He was needy, pitiful, pathetic even. He craved and begged for your attention until you’d give in to his pleadings. It’s no surprise that you enjoyed his submissive side,especially when he seemed to dominate every match he’d play. It turned you on to say the least, to know how he’d crumble so easily in front of you. Wether you were in the private of your dorms or in the busy public he’d be like a puppy tied to your wrist, not letting go of you any chance he could get.
It was unexpected to you. Especially because of how he had swept you off your feet so easily when you first met him. You admired him as a tennis player and you thought he was extremely attractive and charming. When he took you out on your first dates he’d be the perfect gentleman, he picked you up, gave you flowers and held every door open for you. Of course he still does that, but he shines in a different light now.
It wasn’t until you had sex for the first time that you found out about his real nature. He swears he tried to take the matter into his hands to not freak you out, but he simply couldn’t fake it. Art was very vocal during sex, and you loved it. He’d ask you to praise him and that would lead to the most perfect sounds you’d ever heard. After that first time you got closer and closer, trusting each other in a newfound way.
You started to take control, it was something you had never done before but it was growing on you. Until eventually it got just perfect for the both of you.
Tonight after Art’s match he took you on probably the most expensive restaurant you two ever went to for a date. He wanted to celebrate his win but also spoil you since you’d been bratty since the game had ended. Why were you being so bratty? Well you knew Art was popular, even more so right now that his tennis career was peaking in Stanford. Problem is that what came from popularity were mostly girls, salivating behind every single one of your boyfriend’s matches.
Art was way too blinded by his wins and successes to notice, and tonight was one of those times in which you think they took it too far. So yeah you were sulking, and for the right reasons. You were the only one that knew him, really knew him, those girls could only watch him from afar. But you? You had him, it was about time you reminded him.
The drive back to his dorm was silent. His hand soothingly tracing circles on your knee while he drove, a soft jazz song playing on the radio. That’s the thing about Art, he had to have his hands all over you every single moment.
“You’re very quiet tonight…Should I worry?” he asks, his gaze flicking to you and then back to the road. You let out a small chuckle and tilt your head to get a better look at him. His perfect side profile on display, with his sharp jaw and pointed nose, his curls framing his face.
“Yeah, probably” you shrug and look out the window, you feel his hand squeeze your thigh now, maybe in anticipation.
When you reach his dorm room he wastes no time, kissing you while he backs you against the door, desperate for the taste of you.
You pull away, his lips mid pout as he stares down at you with glossy eyes “You did great on the court” you praise him, your finger tracing the shape of his jaw “And everyone saw that” his eyelids flutter, his tongue pokes out to lick his lips “Thanks baby” Art’s voice is almost a whine as the grip on your hips gets tighter, he kisses a spot under your ear and goosebumps spread on your skin. His growing erection already pokes your thigh.
You shouldn’t let him get into your head. You shrug it off “I think you got a lot of attention from the wrong people” you tilt your head and he looks at you oblivious as to what you’re implying. You see it in the way his eyebrows furrow “What—“
You pull down the waistband of his training joggers and that shuts him up. Art can’t wait for you to get your hands on him, but he has a hint that’s not going to be so easy.
“Sit” you say backing him away towards his bed. It’s ridiculous really, he has the ability to hold you up with one hand, he towers over you, shadowing your frame. That is exactly the point. In the end, Art just wants to be babied, and you know perfectly well how to.
He sits down his own bed, his muscles are sore from the match but he can’t help but to feel thrilled. You kneel between his legs, shoving down his joggers and boxers in one swift motion. Art’s cock hits his stomach, the cold air of his dorm against it makes him whimper. He holds himself up with his elbows, attentively watching you.
You watch his hardness stain his black t-shirt with his already leaking tip, red and swollen. It throbs to your staring “Baby— Please” he whines when he sees you do nothing about it. His hand almost reaches to stroke himself but you slap it away.
“Did I say you could touch yourself?” you ask, he throws his head back letting out a big breath “Please I— I did well I won!” he squirms under your weak hold, you know he could easily escape it, he simply doesn’t want to “I know baby” you nod and give him a a smile, he did win after all, he deserved some recognition “But you really should learn how to treat your fans now that you’re getting more…famous” your hand grips his shaft, giving it a squeeze.
Art hisses, his hips try to thrust up into your hands, he’s especially needy tonight. You take your hand away and he whines at the loss of contact “Fans? I- Fuck I don’t have fans” his voice is almost broken from the flooding pain of his erection.
“Oh but you do. And unfortunately for me they’re all girls” your hand takes a hold of his cock once again and this time you let yourself give him two slow strokes. The friction is unbearable to Art who has turned into a stuttering mess filled with cries.
“I-Baby I love you please” he pleads, his glossy blue eyes slightly open to look at you while you spit on his red tip. Art shudders at the contact of your hot saliva on him, his hips thrusting up automatically “Don’t move Artie or this is not gonna go how you’d want it to” you threaten to take your hand off of him “No,no,no I’m sorry sweetheart”
You smile proudly at him and you let your hand stroke him faster, occasionally brushing the leaking tip. Art’s breath gets heavier, heat is propagating through his whole body. The moans coming out from his lips are music to your ears, you almost forget you were mad at him.
“You’re being so good for me Artie” you whisper, he tries,really tries to keep his eyes open and give you a smile but his mind is too foggy and fucked up to function properly right now.
Your tongue wraps on his tip and he can’t help but to let out a strangled cry. He grips on the sheets to not let himself thrust up into your mouth, he knows you wouldn’t like that.
Your hands and tongue move in unison making his vision blurry, just when you start tasting more pre-cum and hear his breath become ragged, you pull away. Art whines in protest, his cheeks red and warm “Don’t look at me like that” you say standing up.
“You’ll like this more” you say as you start undressing. Your skirt and buttoned down are thrown away somewhere on the floor. He stares at you, waiting for instructions. You lay down on his bed, your shoulders hitting the head board as you slide your panties down your legs. He watches you in awe, your glistened folds shine in the dark of his room.
“Can I?” he asks utterly impatient “Just the tip” his eyes widen and his mouth falls agape. He knows better than to complain so he simply nods and takes his shirt off. He settles between your legs and gathers your wetness with his cock head, spreading it through your folds. You watch him as he does so, his hips twitch in need.
“Shit baby you’re so—“ he’s at a loss of words the minute the tip of his shaft enters your hole, the need to push further is too strong and your cunt almost swallows him whole. Soft moans slip from your lips as you look at him try to contain himself, sweat is pearling his forehead as he thrust in and out of you.
“You’re squeezing me so tight I can’t-“ Art throws his head back and stops for a moment, taking a big breath to steady himself. You reach for his arm, stroking it lightly “You’re doing so good for me baby, just what I wanted” your reassuring voice only keeps pushing his release further. He shakes his head and presses the head into you once again.
He knows he’s not gonna last long if you keep this out. The way your pussy engulfs the tip of his sensitive cock is too much for him to handle,and the sounds coming out of your cherry red lips are running straight to his core. You on the other hand are enjoying how well he is behaving, how self controlled he is. You’re not going to lie, you’d rather him pounding deeper into you, but it wouldn’t be a punishment now wouldn’t it be?
His fingers dig into the flash of your thigh, cries are coming out from his parted lips. His hips pick up a faster peace, his cock slips in more at every one. You don’t notice, too lost in your own pleasure pooling in your belly until you feel him hitting the spot that makes you scream.
“Art fuck! I said— Oh my god” you’re roughly interrupted by Art’s deep and fast thrusts, he’s grabbing your hips now, fully moving them to meet his “Baby I’m sorry I need to feel you deeper” he whines, you grab him by his neck to join your lips. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing and spit sliding down your chins “Fuck you’re— so gorgeous”
You moan into his mouth, your insides squeezing his dick tighter at each new thrust “I’m letting you just because you won” your words are slurred and interrupted by moans but he understands. He smiles down at you gratefully and kisses you again, his thrusts becoming frantic.
His bed moves under both of your weights, the bed frame hits the wall at every move of his hips. His neighbors probably hate him.
The squelching sounds of your wetness fill the room and he groans into your mouth “I’m so close baby…Can i?” he begs, his voice whiny,needy and at the edge of rupture. You nod, too lost on your own research of relief.
Art comes fucking you through it, his seed painting your walls white while he squeezes your hips hard with his large and calloused hands. You gasp at the sensation, you can never get used to it. You clench around his sensitive cock before reaching your climax as well with a big cry, your hand squeezing his shoulder “There you go baby” he kisses every inch of your face as you come down from your high.
He nuzzles his head on the crook of your neck, his dick still buried to the hilt. Both of your mixed arousals start to drip down your thigh by the time you catch your breath back “You did so good baby” you kiss the top of his head “On the court and on the bed” Art laughs in response, his bubbly contagious laugh fills the room.
“I am very lucky” he smiles up to you, your heart swells at his words “I love you” you whisper to his lips before he catches them in a hungry kiss.
summary:you and art start to fake date to make tashi and patrick jealous but not everything goes according to plan…
warnings: smut
At first it all started to make Tashi and Patrick jealous. Art was crushing hard on Tashi and you and Patrick had an apparently meaningless fling in the summer. When they eventually had gotten together without even speaking a word about it to the two of you, it made your blood boil. Why were they so selfish and cruel? It’s not like the both of them didn’t know how you two felt.
Your plan was to make them jealous by pretending to date each other. Was it working? Absolutely not, they couldn’t have cared less about you two. Did that stop you from continuing to fake date? Hell no.
You somehow had gotten used to it. You’d spend every weekend in Art’s room at the frat house, watching every movie you could find on DVD. You went to parties with him and let his hands wander all over you, to make the plan more believable, obviously. You studied together in the library even if you were in different majors, you never knew if Tashi or Patrick would be there so you had to play it safe. You had to be ready for every situation.
Strangely, each other’s presence had become soothing for you. Your closeness had began over some toxic revenge plan, but now you could both tell it wasn’t like that anymore.
Acknowledging it was another pair of hands.
You inevitably started to catch feelings for each other, not that any of you would ever mention that.
Today Art is sprawled on your bed, playing some game on his phone when you come in.
You are startled by his presence, you didn’t expect him to be there “God Art how’d you even get in?!” you hold a hand above your heart and you breathe out. He laughs in response to your reaction, his attention shifting from his phone to you.
“I have a spare key” he says casually
“Since when?!” you don’t remember giving him one. He shrugs it off. You close the door behind your back and put your duffle bag down. You take off your coat and hang it inside the closet.
“Are you going to tell me why you’ve broken into my dorm or are you gonna keep playing your game?” you plop down the bed beside him, the mattress bends on both of your weights. He rests his head on your lap. His blonde curls tickle your bare thighs.You look down at him and wait for him to speak up.
He looks up from his phone “There’s a party tonight at the frat and Tashi and Patrick are both coming” you hum, understanding what he meant “So you want me to be there?” your voice is soft an teasing.
“Of course i do” he answers quickly, your lips quirk up in a smile “I mean it’s- our chance to make them jealous once and for all” he adds, he sounded too eager about it and you definitely caught that.
“Sure” you huff a laugh and stand up making his head lie down back to the mattress “Can you go now? I need to shower”
“Really? Usually girlfriends ask their boyfriends to join them in the shower they don’t kick them out” you know he’s just teasing you, but it’s not like that idea hasn’t ever crossed your mind.
You roll your eyes at him, your hands on either side of your hips “Okay okay” he stands up from your bed, a smirk painting his face “See you tonight” he leaves a quick kiss on your cheek that instantly inflames your face as he gets out from your dorm.
You take a big breath and brush your cheek with your finger, you can still feel the warmth of his lips.
The frat is already full when you step inside. Everyone’s already drunk and the music is so loud you can’t even hear your own thoughts. You adjust the bottom of your skirt uncomfortable as you look around for Art.
He is nowhere to be seen. You sigh and make yourself a drink with a mixture of cheap liquor and soda from the kitchen. You see Tashi and Patrick next to the unlit fireplace animately talking and laughing to each other. Your gaze lingers on them. How can they make it look so easy?
Your teeth nag on your bottom lip, the grip on your drink is tight and you risk to spill it all. You shake your head and take a breath before walking towards them, putting up a smile.
“Hey guys” you greet them, they both smile warmly at you giving you a half hug each “Where is your other half?” Patrick asks, his lips curl into an amused laugh while Tashi hits his side as to scold him for his tone. Patrick ignores her. They both look at you waiting for an answer and when you part your lips to reply you feel a pair of strong hands gripping your hips and Art’s perfume enters your lungs.
“Having fun without me?” he comments with a charming smile, he makes everyone laugh. Patrick stares at the two of you in an obnoxious way. Tashi notices it and her jaw looks tighter than usual. Is she? Jealous of you? Tashi Duncan? There is no way.
“I thought you left your girlfriend all alone” Patrick’s voice is almost smug in your ears, it makes you want to punch him. Why would you even sleep with someone like him? Why would you even care to get back with his stupid ass?
“Never” Art gives your hips a little squeeze, you smile and rest your back against his chest “So how is it going?” Tashi asks eyeing the both of you for a time that seems like an eternity.
Either way you push yourself more against Art, his perfume engulfing you. He smells like cigarettes and expensive cologne. He looks so handsome tonight. His white shirt is tight on his biceps, and his black jeans fit him perfectly. His eyes are a bit glossy from the alcohol but somehow it makes him even more attractive.
“It’s great” you nod with a big fake smile, you’re really god at those “I mean have you seen Art? He’s a catch” you look at him and he smiles down at you proudly as you wrap your hand around his arm and give it a small squeeze.
Patrick and Tashi stand awkwardly in front of you, not knowing what to say to that. Art clears his throat with a cough “Let’s sit”.
He grabs your wrist and sits on the couch, pulling you on his lap. You almost yelp at the sudden closeness but you try to stable yourself. Couples do this all the time you shouldn’t look surprised.
“Is this okay?” Art whispers to your ear. Your skin is filled with goosebumps and your mind is full of him. You tilt your head to look at him and give him a nod. He smiles and squeezes your hips again until his hands rest there.
Patrick and Tashi follow, taking place on the armchairs in front of you. It’s too loud and they’re too far from you to have a conversation. They’ll be left to watch.
Art’s breath tingles your neck and you adjust yourself on his lap. Your movement almost makes him hiss, the friction you’ve created doesn’t go unnoticed “Sorry” you say embarrassed “It’s okay baby just- try to move less” you nod gulping down. Baby? God he’s really going all in tonight, it’s going to be torture.
“Do you think they’re talking about us?”
He huffs and looks over at Tashi and Patrick, they keep talking to each other and sending glances to the two of you. Art’s hand shifts on your thigh and he traces lazy patterns on it “They could make it less obvious” you chuckle and nod agreeing with what he said. You put a strand of hair behind your ear as you watch his hand travel further up.
“You’re really good at playing boyfriend” you tell to his ear, he blinks a few times and a shade of pink fills his cheeks. You laugh and throw an arm behind his neck. “You are too” he licks his lips and looks up at you.
“I’m a good boyfriend?” you laugh and your hand travels into his hair. He closes his eyes at your touch “You know what i mean brat” you move again on his lap. You can feel his jeans zipper making contact with the cotton of your panties. His eyes flick back open “What? you called me a brat!”
“And you just proved my point” he holds your hips still to not let you move again. You roll your eyes at him. You can feel how hard he already is in his jeans. It satisfies you that he’s so worked up for you already.
“Don’t couples usually do this?” you ask looking straight into his eyes “What? being brats to each other?” you laugh and tug at his hair, he breathes out “No i meant like…teasing”
His lips part, then he licks them “Fuck” he murmurs resting his head on your chest. He inhales your flowery scent, your chest is so soft , maybe softer than his pillow. He wishes he could hide in there forever.
“Do you want to keep going?” his voice is muffled by your skin. You blink a few times and look around. The party’s still going, everyone is dancing or talking to each other, already wasted. Tashi and Patrick aren’t sitting near you anymore and right now you couldn’t care less about them.
You could keep teasing him a bit more right? No one is going to notice they’re too caught up on their own stuff.
“Art look at me” you grab his chin to make him look at you. You circle your hips on his bulge making his lips part and his eyebrows squeeze together. The front of your panties is starting to grow wetter and it creates a delicious friction against the zipper of his black jeans. He’s painfully hard and whining against your neck.
You stop to make sure no one has yet noticed what the two of you are doing “Can i…can i kiss you?” he asks, his eyes are still glossy and filled with want, his bulge hits your core at every twitch. You smile and cup his jaw.
He leans in and tastes your lips sweetly. He takes his time exploring your mouth as if he wanted to map it and keep it stored into his memory. You kiss him back needy, holding onto the white fabric on his chest.
You grind your hips on his one more time, making the both of you moan into each other’s mouths. You’re too caught up into the moment, you have almost forgotten that you’re sitting on the couch of the frat party until someone sits down beside the two of you in an obnoxious way.
You pull away from each other and he groans gripping on your hips “Do you want to go to my room?” he asks you, his hand still caressing your thigh “Yeah i’d like that” you peck his lips and he grabs you from your waist to lift you up and bring you with him upstairs.
You follow him to the stairs, his hold on your hand is gentle. He leads you to his room and lets you inside. You’ve been to his room a thousand times, but this feels different. The air is electric between the two of you. He locks the door and reaches you, his hands instantly gripping your hips “This is not to make anyone jealous anymore. I want to make it clear” his tone is gentle and it makes your heart swell.
“I know” you nod and smile at him.
“I have a noticeable wet patch on my jeans and i think i know who could have been” he jokes backing you up to his bed “Are you sure you didn’t come in your jeans?” you make fun of him. He snorts “I’m sure…Not that i wasn’t close, you brat” the back of your knees touch the comforter on his bed.
You laugh before he kisses you, rougher this time. He holds your jaw with his hand, tilting your face how he likes it. You suck on his tongue and that makes him whine in your mouth. Art tugs at your shirt “I want to see you” he says to your lips.
You take your top off breaking the kiss. His touch ghosts above your bra, asking for permission “Take it off” your head tilts and he unclasp your bra with one hand, his gaze never leaving your chest as he reveals your plump breasts.
“Fuck you’re-“ he blinks a few times and his finger brushes the curve of your boob. You chuckle looking up at him. He catches your lips in a bruising kiss, your fingers wandering through his hair. He nips at your bottom lip making you whine.
He pulls you down the bed on top of him. His hand squeezes your ass above your skirt and you start to grind against his fully grown erection. He moans against your mouth and his grip on your butt gets stronger.
“Are you gonna keep teasing me or are you actually gonna take it?” he huffs holding you steady. His large hand keeping you where he wants, which is right above your pulsing point. Your skirt rides up your sides showing the fabric of your panties “I want you” your fingers find the zipper of his jeans “But i also want you to earn it” his eyebrow quirks up “Earn it?” he repeats making sure he heard right.
You nod and slide his jeans down to his thighs. His bulge is prominent against his blue boxers, there’s a wet patch on them from precum.
“Fuck you’re killing me” he pulls your skirt off and he takes his own shirt off, then he rests his elbows on the mattress, watching you attentively.
“Are you gonna be good?” you keep a hand on his chest for leverage as you start grinding on his erection once more. He throws his head back, the more direct contact is creating a pool of warmth below his stomach “I- will” he breathes out “But if you keep doing that i’m- jesus” he’e silenced by another swift movement of your hips.
Your underwear clings to your wet and sticky cunt, to the point that it’s almost transparent “Yeah? Would you come just from that?” your teasing words only make his hips thrust up against your core, you let out a shaky and surprised moan “Do you want me to?” he breathes out looking into your eyes.
You bite down your bottom lip, the idea seems tempting enough for you. Watching him come undone without even touching him properly, directly how he would want.
“That would be pretty hot” another movement of your hips makes him groan, the wet patch on his underwear growing from your wetness mixed with his “Fuck you’re so hot… just like that” he holds your hips firmly and watches how your covered folds slide against him.
Both of your breaths start to get ragged “Please baby… i need to fuck you” he pleads in a whiny tone that’s almost impossible to ignore. You cave in, you can’t take it anymore either, you’re so close and your pussy is starting to clench on air.
“You’ve been so good” you give him a sloppy kiss while his hand fidget with your panties trying to push them off. You laugh in the kiss at his attempt and you help him out, lifting your hips for him. He tosses your drenched underwear away and slides his on boxers off. His erection slams to his stomach, his tip is painfully red and leaking.
He gives you two of his fingers to suck on. You twirl your tongue around them while he watches and then he slides them inside you to stretch you out nicely. You hold onto his shoulder, your mouth agape “Art oh my god” he can feel you squeeze his fingers “You’re going to be so tight for my cock… look at you” he pumps his fingers in and out of you fast, squelching sounds filling the room.
“You ready for me?” he asks against your ear. You nod eagerly “I am, please…” he kisses your temple and then pulls his fingers out of you. They’re slicked with your juices, he licks them clean and then he lifts your hips up so you can sink on his length “Take your time baby” he caresses your arm as he watches you adjust to his stretch.
He sucks in a breath when he bottoms out inside of you, you stay still for a moment and then start by circling your hips which causes stifles sounds from both of you “You feel amazing” he praises, his hands grip your hips again, he guides you through it “Art…it’s so deep” you whine, you can feel his cockhead hitting your cervix at every movement.
“I know baby…shit i- i know” he grunts moving his hips up. You start to ride him faster, your breasts bouncing at every jump. They keep hitting his face and he kisses them every chance he gets making you clench around his shaft.
After a few more bounces your legs start to tremble “Let me do it, okay baby? Relax” Art flips the both of you around while being still inside you. He’s on top of you now and he slams his hips in an angle that makes you scream. You circle your legs around his hips pulling him closer as possible to you. You kiss each other messily as he thrusts inside of you, teeth scraping and biting.
The way you clench around his cock makes his head spin “Fuck…I bet Patrick never made you feel like i do” he grunts. His thrusts get sloppier and sloppier as he approaches his release “Never Art, god you’re perfect for me” your pussy wraps around him one more time, the pressure on his dick unbearable as he paints your walls white with his cum.
He breathes out in the crook of your neck, his hand finding your bundle of nerves and flicking it. You moan into his ear, the friction is enough to make you come undone. Your arousal mix around his still deeply buried cock. Your heavy breaths fill the room as you cling onto each other.
“Fuck them” he breaks the silence “I want you” you melt at his words spoken to the crook of your neck. You keep him tightly close to your body “It hasn’t been about Tashi and Patrick for a while now… don’t you think?” his chuckle tickles your neck. He looks up and leaves a few kisses on the corner of your mouth “I couldn’t care less about them right now when i’m still buried deep inside you”
Your face flushes at his words and you slap his shoulder playfully “What? You’re getting shy on me now?” he teases you smirking.
“Shut up Art” you roll your eyes at him. He smiles “When you do that you almost make me want to fuck you even harder” his cock twitches inside of you.
“You are insatiable” you laugh at him and he tempests your neck with small kisses that make your skin fill with goosebumps once again “You’re the one who told me to earn it… did i not?” he asks shifting his gaze onto yours.
You bite your bottom lip “You did more than just earn it” he smiles victoriously and latches his lips to yours.
Stanford!art cannot help but get hard when you both are in the cafeteria. Just friends, nothing more. But the way your lips wrap around the straw you are drinking your sweet cherry cola from.
He bets your lips taste just as sweet as that. Or maybe— feel sweeter on his cock too. The way you would stick your tongue out to seek the straw before guiding it to your mouth. Oh, he'll die in his seat.
Maybe he does get a chance to experience it. Both tipsy, at some frat party. When you giggle and make a joke that you can make him cum in just a minute and he denies, because he knows you'll want to prove him wrong.
He wants that.
The first touch of your tongue had him whimpering. Though he didn't let it out. His brows scrunched, lip bitten by his own teeth as he held the back of your head. Slowly pushing you down.
"oh— baby", he whispered. Hands gathering your hair as you almost pull off of his cock before sucking on the tip. Tracing the crown shape of it with your tongue.
That gets him to breathe heavy already, his eyes threatening to close, mouth hung open. One, two, three bob later, he's cumming.
Crying, whining, whatever you call it. That's his voice, "Eh— I'm cumming— shit. . Fuck— no— stop— wai—", he can't even speak before his hips push deeper into your mouth and releases his load.
You pull off to hear him breathe heavy as you look up at him. Popping the lollipop back in your mouth as you giggle, "told you—", he looked wrecked.
heyyyy. so i kinda want to make this a series so let me know if you want a part 2 or if i should leave it as it is! xx 🩷
warning: smut
Patrick and Art were best friends. You were Patrick’s little sister so you practically grew up with Art always around. You didn’t really get along but it was only because he was your brother’s friend and you had to hate every thing about him. As some sort of unspoken sibling rule.
Eventually it got better, even too much. It was Patrick and Art’s senior year, you were a junior. You went to the same high school so of course you were all close and hang out together. That year Art and you got closer and closer, until you both eventually caved in.
Casual study sessions turned into coffee dates that would end up with your back on the leather seats of his car. His face between your legs and the windows fogged. It wasn’t just sex, you were in love. Or at least that’s what you keep telling yourself.
He was your first everything, first kiss, first boyfriend, first time, first love.
Until everything went downhill. He had to go to college, Stanford had accepted him and he couldn’t wait to join its tennis team and actually focus on it. You spent the rest of the summer after his graduation tangled up together. Every day you spent with him reminded you that he was going to leave you here. You tried to make the best of these days as much as you could. That meant basically being all over each other in an almost obnoxious way, to others, never to the two of you. You both could never get enough of each other.
The night before he left you cried on his chest, he held you tightly and he told you he loved you while tears hovered his eyes. You begged him not to go, you knew you were being selfish. You fell asleep and slept tangled all night, he kept holding you afraid you’d slip away. But he was the one leaving. When the morning came you had to face reality. You kissed while tears ran down your face and he promised that he would keep in touch. That never happened.
You both were too young, too busy catching on your own future. Now Art is a tennis star, he’s thinking about retiring, he’s too tired of this life. You’re a writer about to write your fourth book while the other three are best sellers. All your books were about him.
Patrick’s getting married to Tashi. You’re her maid of honor and Art’s Patrick best man. You dreaded this happening, but it had to eventually. During the ceremony you spot each other but don’t say anything, just stick to the wedding procedures you both don’t care much for. Staring at each other is the priority right now.
He thinks she’s grown into a more beautiful woman than he could have ever imagined. His palms are sweaty and they’re hitching to touch her. She catches his gaze too often and she has to shake it off, even if her whole body trembles. She hates the effect he always has on her.
At the wedding venue you dance with the other bridesmaids, you hold your heels on your hand and your hair falls down from your updo that you spent hours working on. Your feet are cold against the pebbles as you laugh and dance with one of your little cousins.
Art is standing near the bar’s counter, sipping whiskey while he watches you with a nostalgic smile. He wants to reach you, he hates that you two haven’t spoken yet. He doesn’t though, he doesn’t know if that’s what you want.
She’s running way too hot so she excuses herself to get a drink. She sees him, of course she does. That’s one of the reasons why she actually excused herself. She orders a gin tonic and she hears his voice, after 10 years.
“Still haven’t lost your moves i see” her whole body seems to react instantly to his voice “I like to think they’ve improved” she tries to keep her tone casual, fun even, while her heart is threatening to push out from her chest into his hands.
He notices that she’s still carrying her heels and he gets them off her hands and holds them instead “Of course you do” his lips curve into a smile. She notices his gesture, just like what he used to do when he took her to his last prom dance. They danced until every one else went home, too lost in each other to stop.
“Are you having fun?” she sips her drink and nods “Sure i like weddings, i haven’t been in that many so it’s nice” he nods agreeing “Plus i hope Patrick will be less insufferable now” he laughs at that “Yeah i don’t think anything’s going to change” she snorts. Before they can add anything else to the conversation on of the bridesmaids pulls her by the arm to take her away.
Tashi’s throwing the bouquet apparently and she has to abide to those patriarchal rituals. It’s not that deep, she’ll let it pass for tonight. Art stares at her with an amused smile. She looks like she’d rather die than do this. He thinks she hasn’t changed.
All the women in the room line up and when Tashi throws her bouquet she doesn’t make any effort to catch it. Unfortunately it literally falls in her arms. Tashi runs to hug her squealing and all the women mutter in jealousy “Do Charlie and you have to tell us anything?” Tashi jokes of course, but she hates that she mentioned him, she doesn’t want Art to hear.
Charlie is her boyfriend. Actually, ex boyfriend as of a week ago. Nobody knows except her dog who has seen her cry hugging her knees on her apartment’s floor. She doesn’t want to ruin the wedding mood by telling everyone about her miserable love life. He was the first after Art that could make her actually feel like she belonged to someone, that she could love again.
After they congratulate her she finally escapes from the crowd to sit in a remote table of the venue. In a corner, alone. Her feet up in a chair, the bouquet falling on her lap.
He sees and hears everything. His brows furrow, he wants to know every little thing he missed about her. He reaches her with fast and long steps. His drink long and forgotten when he sits in the chair her legs are currently rested. Her eyes widen in surprise when she tries to pull her legs back but he keeps them rested on his own legs. Massaging delicately her ankles.
“Who’s Charlie?” his question seems to echo through her mind. She sighs and leans back against the chair. His touch is burning on her skin and she can’t focus on anything but him. It’s not even his right to ask about Charlie.
“He’s my- ex boyfriend” she breathes out the last words. He seems to be relieved by that “Ex?” he asks, just to be sure as his thumb digs on the bottom of her foot. She almost hisses at the contact but she keeps steady “Yeah just-“ she grunts “Don’t tell anyone, you’re the only one that knows” she hates that she’s allowing him to know.
“Why? You planning to get back together?” he shifts to the other foot, massaging “No, God no” the idea only horrifies her “I don’t want to ruin the happy mood, my family loves him”. He tenses, jealousy building up once again inside him. Your family loves him more, right? He wants to ask what happened between them but he’s afraid she won’t open up so easily and she doesn’t seem to be eager to talk about it.
“You’re still so selfless” your butter yellow dress rides up your thighs, he notices it and swallows digging his fingers more into your feet “You don’t need to do that” her voice almost melts by how relaxed he’s making her feel “You caught the bouquet” he ignores her comment “I didn’t want to” he laughs “I know, you looked like you’d rather die than to participate”
“Seriously you don’t need to do that” she pulls her legs back but he holds her by her ankles holding her in place “Art-“ he cuts her off “Let me do this, let me touch you or i might actually explode” her breath catches in her throat at his admission. She leans forward, they’re closer than before. She can almost smell his cologne. “Sorry” he mutters looking down at where her feet are rested on his lap. She wants to reassure him, to tell him it’s okay and she wants him to keep touching her like old times. But nothing comes out.
Her fingers brush his cheek instead, a ghostly touch, familiar. He places his hand over hers causing her hand to cup his cheek. She leans into his touch “Do you want to get out of here?” she asks. She doesn’t even know why she’s asking this, all she wants is to feel him close, far from prying eyes. He nods and grabs her hand, pulling her with him when he stands up. They don’t care if people will be looking for them, they’re busy enough with the newly married couple. The bouquet is left on the chair, alone and already withering.
They reach his car in silence. He opens the car’s door for her and she gets in. When he turns in the engine and drives away she looks over at the wedding venue fading away, she wonders if people will ask about them. If someone asks Patrick he’d know what to say. He drives to the fancy hotel he’s staying in for the night. “You’re actually staying here?” she looks outside the car window in disbelief “Tennis pays well” he turns off the engine after he parks his car.
They get inside the hotel in a hurry, the wait in the lift seems unbearable. When they get in his room he doesn’t waste anymore time. He catches her lips in a bruised kiss, her back against the door as she loses herself in the kiss. He walks backwards to the bed and he flips her around “God i’ve missed you” he mutters hungrily against his lips as she fumbles with his belt.
He unzips her dress and she’s left only with a pair of white lacy panties since the dress was backless. He just stares at you for a moment, savoring and taking you in “Art? You there?” she huffs a laugh and wraps her arms around his neck “You’re so beautiful baby” he kisses her again sweeter and needier. He pushes her down the bed and he takes his clothes off, leaving on only his black boxers. His bulge is prominent and his underwear has a wet patch from pre-cum. She licks her lips.
He traces kisses all over her body, he sucks on her nipple and she whines tugging at his hair “God,Art” he leaves the nipple with a pop and trails down more kisses until he reaches the edge of her underwear. He looks up at her from there, drinking in her beauty. Her cheeks are flushed and her hair is messy. Her glossy eyes stare back at him filled with need “Please”. That’s all he needs from her. He slides her panties off and she spreads her legs for him. He dives in giving attention to her bundle of nerves, firstly flicking his tongue and then fully sucking on it.
She remembers how he would take his time at it. He would always enjoy it and eat her pussy out like a starved man. That hasn’t changed. Her hand goes through his hair and she keeps him steady as her legs close around him. Her head is thrown back in pleasure. Her juices are coating his chin and lips. His tongue flaps on her folds a few times tasting her fully. Then he returns to sucking her clit and his finger slips inside her hole without a warning. She gasps and clenches “Fuck- Art you’re- it’s so good” she whimpers as he thrusts his finger in and out of her “Let me stretch you baby” he adds another finger and watches her reaction. Her chest goes up and down fast, the redness of her face has spread through her neck.
Her pussy clenches around his fingers and that makes him moan. His other hand palms his cock from his underwear that’s begging for attention “Just like that. You’re such a good girl taking my fingers so well” the praises make her moan even louder than possible as his tongue returns to suck on her clit. She squeezes her eyes and barely warns him when she comes squeezing his fingers tightly. He smirks as she rides out her orgasm and he tries to drink all her arousal. He traces kisses back up until he reaches her mouth, letting her taste herself on his tongue “You did so well” his hips grind against hers and she lets out a few moans.
When she catches her breath back she notices his painful erection still inside his boxers “Need some help with that?” he huffs a laugh “Yeah that’d be nice”. She takes his boxers off and his cock springs open. The tip red and swollen. She strokes it to create some friction. He hisses looking down at her hand moving “Want you inside me. It has been too long”. He doesn’t let her say it twice. He pushes her back into the bed and slides his cock between her folds to lubrificate it. She moans every time his tip hits her clit. He teases her a bit more until he can’t handle it and slams inside of her, bare.
“F-fuck you feel so good. Still so tight for me” he holds her hips steady while he fucks her hard. The headboard slamming on the wall at every thrust. His cock slides in and out easily with how wet she is for him. It makes the dirtiest sounds. He feels like he could explode inside of her in any moment with how tight she clenches around his length “You were made for my cock weren’t you? I bet Charlie never fucked you like i do huh?” his repressed jealousy comes back out as he thrusts harder hitting your g-spot repeatedly and making you cry out in pleasure “N-Never,you fuck me so good Art” her praises go straight to his brain.
“Gonna cum inside you is that okay? Fuck” he applies pressure on her belly, touching the spot his cock hits repeatedly, 7 inches deep to be exact “Yeah baby,fill me up” she’s in such a haze that she doesn’t even realize what she’s saying and she will definitely be embarrassed about it later “Need you to come first” his finger finds her clit and plays with it, flicking it how she likes it. Her back arches and her breath gets rigged as her pussy clenches around him harder. He lets out a few whimpers. When she comes screaming his name that’s enough for him to come undone all at once, all that pent up desire shooting up inside of her.
He rests her forehead against hers “I love you, never stopped loving you” he says breathless, he means every word “Me neither” she kisses the point where his jaw and neck meet “I love you too”.
When you are laying back on his chest, his arm wrapped around to rest on your stomach or just holding your neck. The room filled with the sound of the movie that was playing.
His focus on the tv. The screen illuminating the room. His hand slowly creeping up as his palm settled on your jaw. His thumb pulling your lower lip down as the pad of his finger press against your gum.
His thumb just brushing against your canines or gum. Exploring your mouth without fully entering it. Sometimes you would open your teeth to let him inside because you thought that's what he wanted but no.
His thumb would always just brush against your teeth.
You were used to it. Of course at first when he did it, you were a little surprised. Chuckling and pushing his hand away with a playful "ew" but that never seemed to work to stop him.
His hand would be right where you pushed it away from, so you just learned to live with it. Sometimes he would tell you to bite his thumb as well.
It's worse when he is kissing. Lips locked in a sloppy mess. His tongue licking your teeth like he is tracing them. His hand behind your head, the other on your jaw, holding you in place. He sometimes even whimpers while doing it.
He loves having your bite marks on him. Especially on his shoulder. So he can just roll up his sleeve white shirt and have your teeth print, on display. He gets off on it.
He has a biting thing of his own. Kissing your face as you smile, making your cheeks go rounder as he playfully sets a bite on it. It looks too good to avoid—!
Or when you are in his dick, his hand moving your hips. Dragging you against his cock as his teeth keeps chewing on your nipples. Mouthing it like a chew toy. No matter how much you try to pull him off, he is stuck there. Like a magnet.
You always draw him in anyway, why go anywhere else.
