captain john price who thinks you’re cheating on his with his lieutenant, simon riley, so he thoroughly bangs you in his office, making sure to leave visible marks along your jawline and neck which he’s usually so careful about.
he shoves your panties in your mouth, placing his firm hand on top to seal the sticky fabric against your tongue.
and when simon comes in for their pre-planned meeting, he’s greeted with the sight of your head hanging off of the desk and knees draped over his captain’s shoulders.
price commands him to stay, talking through infiltration strategies, potential threats, new shipment of weapons and new personnel changes as all planned. would have been a perfectly normal meeting had price not been rutting up into your soaked cunt the whole time.
and simon is blissfully unaware of price’s accusation, but more preoccupied with making sure his eyes don’t drift any lower than the captain’s stare.
so he sits stiffly, eyes shutting briefly as he hears you mewl when a sharp crack comes down against your clit.
and when price’s soften dick slips out of your abused and dripping puss, he finally peels the panties that are equally as wet with your saliva from your mouth.
that’s when you and simon finally get to explain that all the secret communication between you and his best man was to only plan him a surprise party for his birthday next week.
soap slaps nikolai's ass while drunk thinking for a moment it was simon next to him and not the rugged russian. the captain and lieutenant had stepped outside for a smoke. he'd forgotten that.
"getting bold, sergeant." that firm, crisp russian voice goes straight to his cock. but soap is not one to back down.
"never liked subtlety."
nik raises a brow, looking down at the smug scot. or trying for smug, mixed with too much coy, a playful sparkle in his eye, and not enough shame. "da. then let us be clear, john mactavish."
soap smiles and takes a swig of his drink, before nik's giant paw is on the back of his neck and dragging him down the hall.
what follows is the most mind numbing fuck soap has ever received, his throat's sore, his ass red, and his hole stretched.
by the time he gets his wits about him, he realizes simon has a drink in his hand and has apparently brought one for nik.
A/N: Had this halfway done with Ghost having his own standalone, but it turned into something twice as long as the entire fic so I'm shoving that to the WIP pile. Hoping to fulfill another request soon!
John Price: “Hm? Can’t hear you, doll,” John teased, “You didn’t want to talk when I asked about that damn book, so I can’t imagine you’ve got anything important to say now either.”
His fingers tightened in your hair as he bucked up, the back of your throat fighting him with a gag. Your hands were tied behind your back with a length of silk, mouth full of cock while he switched between fucking up into you and moving your head up and down his length. The bed creaked under his movements while the carpet dug into your knees.
You had purchased a historical romance book at your friend’s insistence. She had gushed about how romantic the duke was and how her boyfriend loved to roleplay some of the scenes.
It was alright. The sex scenes were vanilla, the dialogue read like English class, and you didn’t much care about “impropriety” or “the courting season” characters kept blabbing on about. After finishing it—because you’re not a quitter—it was left in the stack of things for donation.
Unfortunately, you had such a lovely husband who liked to keep the house tidy which included cleaning up piles you’d “eventually” get to sorting out.
John was old-school. He didn’t watch porn, kept his wandering eyes in check, and saved all of his insatiable need for you and you alone. Especially because you’d sent him so many slutty videos to watch while he was away.
Why would he bother with any of that when he had you? He thought with his age, he’d start to have problems keeping up with you, but it only took a single flirty bat of your eyelashes before he was bending you over the closest surface.
To see you so blatantly dismiss him by reading about some royal prick made his possessiveness rack up tenfold.
“Did you touch yourself to that filth? Did you take away one of my orgasms and give it to that bullshit?”
You struggled to shake your head when your nose was pressed against the dark hair above his cock. He’d already come down your throat once, hot spurts settling in your belly while some dribbled out your lips, mixed with saliva, just how he likes.
Pressing your thighs together didn’t give you much relief, but he’d given you short lived pleasure after coming, playing with your puffy clit until he was hard again. Then it was right back to drooling and choking on the smoky musk of John’s cock without your own release.
“Course not. You’re a dirty bird and that nonsense didn’t even give you shivers, did it? You like it rough,” John gritted out, “Waste of time; reading books about weak men barely touching their girl, barely giving her what she needs. I just gotta remind you that I know you. You want this. You want me.”
When he pulled you off, he ran his finger over your bottom lip as you gasped for breath before two fingers pressed down on your tongue. He stared straight into your eyes as his other hand fisted his cock.
“And I don’t want some sweet little virgin giving me head like a god damn lolly. I want my sloppy girl gagging for me.”
The two fingers slid to the back of your throat with a groan as he came again. Hot seed splatters over your tongue and face, making sure you never forget his taste, his scent, his ownership.
“Beg me,” he rasps, jerking himself through his orgasm, “Beg me and maybe I’ll let you come.”
“Please, I didn’t even like the book,” You pleaded through pants, “Please, sir, I want to come. Only want you to make me come. Only ever think of you. Of your cock inside of me, sir!”
Price wiped some come off your face, before reinserting his fingers into your mouth, “Suck.”
Your jaw was sore, your lips puffy from the harsh blowjob, but you sucked down his fingers like your life depended on it. Your eyes continued to plead for release and even as you shifted your thighs in desperation, it only made you more needy.
You dared to plead around his fingers, the word garbled, but the emotion clear, "Please let me come, sir."
Price pretended to contemplate your request while sliding his fingers in and out of your mouth. “I can’t stay mad at you.”
He hauled you up by your armpits and threw you back on the bed, pumped his fingers into his pussy that just so happens to be between your legs, and devoured your mouth. His tongue shoved past your lips, devouring every moan and cry.
His beard only heightened the sensitivity, scratching your swollen lips when he bit at your tongue.
Two orgasms later and he’s finally convinced you won’t dare to forget who owns every single tingle of his beautiful pussy.
Gaz let himself into your flat with his newly given key, hoping to surprise you with a clean kitchen and hot cuppa when you came home from work. Your relationship was new, but it had to be going well if you gave him free access to your home, right? He struggled to believe someone as smart, someone as beautiful, someone as perfect, would ever look his way. He would never stop proving himself and praying he could keep you in his life— and bed.
Your bedroom was fairly clean, maybe not by military standards, but your bookshelf was immaculately organized. He didn’t dare touch your pride and joy, not without explicit permission that not even a key would allow. Then he spotted the worn down hardback on your nightstand. Small colored tabs on the top and sides, one in particular caught his eye. A small drawing of a chili pepper? Or a penis? He couldn’t quite tell.
He scoffed when he flipped through the chapter. three pages? That’s all there was before the guy was coming, leaving the girl with a single orgasm, and the characters fell asleep. Why would you want to read about such disappointing sex? He’d just have to remind you why twelve-page sex was so much better.
That’s how you ended up lying on your stomach, ass in the air, while Gaz licked you hole to clit while pumping his fingers into your slick walls.
“Come on, baby…” He gasped, slapping your pussy twice in sharp succession when you stopped reading, “Tell me what bullshit that man is doing while leaving his queen unsatisfied.”
A bookworm by definition and proud self-identification, this series drew you in with politics and worldbuilding more than the sex and romance. It didn’t help that you talked non-stop about it and fell in love when Gaz not only listened but asked questions about the intricacies.
In hindsight, that sounded a lot like when men would say they bought playboy magazines “for the articles”.
You were foolish to think he’d stop after you finished reading the sex scene from the book. There were better, longer, scenes in the book, but it didn’t seem to matter to the man who made every romp into a marathon of pleasure.
“Ngh!” You squeezed your eyes shut, opening them again to read the blurred words on the pillow in front of you, “H-he’s sat at his desk, reviewing bat-battle plans–”
“I’d have you bent over that damn desk.”
“But his thoughts—ah! H-his thoughts were on the hike through the forest with her tomorrow— fuck!”
“If he doesn’t fuck her against a tree, the whole book is going in the bin.”
“He wanted– fuck, I’m gonna-” Your walls clamp when his tongue moves past your pussy and licks you hole to hole. Your arms give out, your face plants into the book, and you let out a strangled moan as you come onto his unceasing fingers.
“That's it. Good girl. Better than some fucking faerie, yeah?”
Drool started to pool onto the pages as you mewled from overstimulation, his tongue pushed deep into your pussy to feel it clench.
Out of the corner of your eyes, you spied your bookshelf, the series that got you into this mess was in a central position. The sensations blurred together, eyes watering as he drove you closer to a climax.
It isn’t until he shattered you a third time that the book was carefully closed and returned to its resting place. He wasn’t a monster. He knew you loved that damn book.
Then he was on you, legs tossed over his shoulders, and his cock disappeared into your pussy in one smooth motion.
“You want me to wear wings, baby? You want me to rip off your corset and fuck you in a meadow? You want me to give you a crown? I’d give you anything. I want you to write a damn trilogy about all the ways I’ve made you come.”
Your hands found purchase on his biceps, nails digging into the muscle as he pounded into you. The headboard crashed into the wall in time with your cries. His dick fit so perfectly inside of you, the perfect amount of stretch and burn that kept you on the edge of losing your senses.
His whispered promises and praise needed to be inked on paper. When you came on his cock, he followed shortly after with your name on his lips; like he was written just for you.
Johnny/Simon: "Happy Birthday, bonnie,” Johnny whispered in your ear when he reached the bedroom door, revealing a present that could never be topped.
On your shared bed, sitting against the headboard in nothing but his boxer briefs was no other than Simon Riley. As you gaped, the heel of his hand slowly palmed the impressive bulge between his legs.
Turning to Johnny, who was sporting a devilish grin, the bastard, “Wh… what–” Your eyes darted back to Simon who was watching the two of you and you could swear his mask twitched into a smirk. “Why is he– How did you–”
“Ach, ye nae slick, bonnie,” He grinned, hand snaking around your waist to pull you to his chest, “Ye go on and on about those books, ah was bound tae learn a wee bit aboot havin’ one lass fer the whole group.”
Before you had the chance to be embarrassed, a warm wall pressed into your back, warm breath muffled behind rough fabric made you shiver when Simon pressed his nose against your neck. “It’s only a gift, love. Neither of us will be upset if you want to return me for store credit.”
“N-no!” You stuttered out, face flushed when Johnny’s hand slipped under your shirt to rub his thumb over your hip bones, “I mean, yes, of course, but are you sure?”
Neither man bothered answering with words. Not when they’d seen how you stiffened when Simon would brush past in a crowded pub. Not when you brought Johnny lunch on base and there would always be an extra dessert with a strongly worded note to share with Simon. The kicker had been when you sheepishly mumbled something about a mask kink, though you clammed up when Johnny excitedly asked if you wanted to try it.
Seems like you were getting several itches scratched tonight.
In a flurry of desperate hands, discarded clothing, and sloppy kisses to your lips and neck, you were left in nothing but your panties you wished were sexier. Johnny wrapped one strong forearm around your waist and hauled you onto the bed, back to chest. His arm slid up to under your breasts, lifting their weight to feel the warm flesh fold over his skin.
Simon stood at the end of the bed to watch you squirm in anticipation. His amber eyes traveled down from your face to your tits, your stomach, and stopped on your closed thighs. A position he would happily change.
“Been tellin’ him jus how sweet ye taste,” Johnny cooed in your ear when Simon kneed onto the bed, crawling like a cat stalking towards a mouse in a trap, “Told him how ye squeal when ma lips suck yer clit, but ye moan when ah sink in yer hot cunt.”
Whimpering, you tensed when Simon’s hands first touched your calves. He slid up with painstaking slowness, his body leaning down as his large hands wrapped around your thighs and pulled them apart.
“Let him ‘ave a wee taste fore we fill ye up proper.” Johnny whispered, helping you lift your hips so Simon can drag your panties down your legs before tossing them somewhere unseen. The mask is pulled up just above his nose and this fucking man licks his lips while staring at your pussy like the doors of heaven opened before him.
You do, in fact, squeal, when Simon licks a long filthy stripe between your folds before his eyes rolled back in his skull.
"Bloody fuckin' hell. Delicious."
Johnny hooked his ankles around your calves, pulling up so Simon could press his face deeper into your throbbing sex. Simon didn’t eat pussy like he was starving, no, this was a man with an oral fixation so strong that he could die between your legs completely satisfied. His tongue was relentless, the tip of it licking around the sides of your labia, the flat warmth when he lapped up the never-ending slick, and when Johnny’s fingers find your neglected nipples, you buck up against the men’s strong hold.
“Ye gettin’ close, bonnie?” Johnny whispered in your ear, his free hand pinching and twisting your nipple while Simon slipped two fingers in your cunt with a growl that vibrated through your whole body. “Come fore him. Let him see whit he’s been missin’.”
That’s all it takes for you to gush over Simon’s tongue, wetting the edge of his mask with slick. Pleasure wracked through your body, legs shaking and toes curling as Simon drew out your orgasm by stimulating the spongy spot inside of you.
Before you could come back to reality, Johnny’s hold on you loosened and you were flopped onto your front, facing the edge of the bed where Simon was pulling his mask back down with a deep inhale. Oh god, he was breathing in the smell of you and if that was the hottest thing you ever saw, it only lasted for a minute before Johnny told you to pull down Simon’s boxers.
“He’s got a nice prick, aye?” Johnny’s now freed cock slicked between your folds, teasing you, “Ah gottae admit, bit of a present for ma too.”
You nodded dumbly, hands dropping back to the mattress to hold yourself up. There was no way to hide it, Simon was big. Thick and long with delicious beads of precum dripping down the shaft and curving past the veins. Gun to your head, you couldn’t tell if he was bigger than Johnny, but together they would split you apart.
Simon tilted your chin up, forcing you to look into his eyes which had softened with something akin to lustful concern.
“You want a taste, love?”
A single yes was all the men needed and when they got it, they didn’t hold back. The tip of Simon’s cock barely breached your lips before Johnny slammed into your cunt— the force of which pushed your mouth onto Simon’s cock with a sound so pretty both men had to still before coming like teenagers.
Simon moved first, shallow thrusts that grazed the back of your throat. His hand found your hair, twisting it around his fingers to keep you in place. Johnny’s hips did all the work for both of you. Every punch into your core pushed Simon’s cock deeper into your throat until your lips were stretched thin around his girth. The musky taste was nothing like Johnny, but it made you keen all the same.
They worked in tandem, the synchrony came from years in the field together. Johnny’s hand on your lower back lifted momentarily to smack your ass in quick succession.
“Fuck,” Johnny grunted, “Takin’ us like ye were meant for it.”
Another muffled moan escaped your throat and you could barely register your building orgasm. Simon pulled you off with a wet pop and ran his thumb over your lower lip as you gasped for hair between whines. Johnny pulled your reddened cheeks apart, licking his thumb and pressed it against your other entrance.
Your yelp of shocked pleasure was once against cut off when Simon tugged your hair forward back onto his cock.
“If she keeps winkin’ at me like this,” Johnny growled, pushing his thumb harder until the muscle tensed, “Ah’ll have tae let him split her open next time.”
Next time.
Your second orgasm hit you like a gunshot; your whole body tensed for one wonderful moment before wave after wave off bliss ran through you. Your walls clenched down on Johnny’s cock, your body desperate for him to fill you.
Simon took the opportunity to slip further down your throat, pushing past a weak gag reflex to feel every moan roll through his cock like lightning.
“I’m gonna come, love, gonna take every drop?” Simon growled, his free hand lifting your chin while his other hand loosened on your hair, giving you every chance to back out.
The very idea was abhorrent, you wanted it all. You wanted both of them to stay inside you and claim you. There wasn’t room for embarrassment or worry when they were filling you so perfectly. You could hardly remember why you were so horny when you read those damn books, nothing could compare to the real thing.
Your tongue caressed the underside of Simon’s cock in permission.
Johnny’s hand snaked underneath you, finding his target with ease and rubbing tantalizing circles over your clit. Overstimulation bleeding into a tight coil threatening to spring you over another cliff. You felt movement above you, both men shifting slightly. When you looked up, Simon’s hand gripped the back of Johnny’s neck as his mask was pushed up by Johnny’s fingers. They were locked into a desperate kiss of teeth and tongues.
Now that is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
The climax nearly collapsed you, whiting out your vision and mind in a rush. You were too blissed out to notice Simon’s thick seed shooting down your throat, but you swallowed out of instinct, milking every spurt.
Johnny followed shortly behind, head thrown back with a sinful cry of pleasure and claim. Both men twitched and held themselves deep, electric shocks ran through your body as if they were connected. When they pulled out, your arms gave way and you dropped to the mattress in a panting sweaty heap.
Johnny leaned down to breathlessly kiss along the nape of your neck, “Such a good girl fer us.”
Simon came back from a disappearance you didn’t notice with warm cloths to wipe you all down. Eventually, you settled between them with a foggy mind and pleasantly sore body.
“Ah ken ye would love yer present,” Johnny held you from behind, stroking your sides, while you curled up to Simon’s side.
“You were amazing, love,” Simon rumbled, kissing your forehead through the mask, “Better than I ever imagined.”
You hummed, trying to string a sentence together that showed your gratitude and satisfaction, “When’s your birthday, Simon?”
Because those two words from Johnny still rang in your head:
Next time.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I cherish every single like, comment, and reblog. My AO3 is @sleepysoapy.
tags: 18+ explicit smut + you're married to John + use of good girl, she, her + blowjob + cum swallowing + praising.
“Look at her, you’ve trained her well, Cap’n.” Kyle’s voice rasped as he sat with spread legs on the couch, his dark coffee eyes trained on you kneeling in front of him and John Price, your husband, who caressed your chin gently as he sat next to his friend and sergeant.
He smiled at you with so much pride and affection that it made you squirm and feel so flustered it felt like a heat wave was pressed down on you, seeping into your skin until sweat misted your naked body.
“She’s so good for me.”
It was hot the way they talked about you like you weren’t there in the room.
With a subtle nod towards Kyle, he leaned in and ran the tips of his fingers along your jawline, forcing you to look at him instead.
The air took on a charged tension; the edges curled in from the way both men looked at you like their next meal. Another stroke would snap it completely like broken glass.
It was dim in the living room, giving it more of a sensual feel, which didn’t help the slick that made the fabric of your panties stick to your leaking cunt. “Look at her, flustered as hell.” Kyle grinned and slid his hand to the back of your neck, where he gripped it softly.
“Come here, pretty girl. Look at you, so soft and such a good listener.” He cooed as you crawled closer to him, glancing over at John, who watched you intently, the cigar tucked between his lips curled with smoke that hung around him in a white haze; the tendrils caressed his face as he grinned.
John could tell Kyle’s praise was further turning you into a puddle; a soft whine spilled from your lips that the younger man traced with his thumb, which you took in your mouth and sucked on.
You met his gaze and smiled, then took the whole digit in, letting Kyle depress your tongue with the pad.
It was erotic to watch you from a different point of view; it was John who got the pleasure of seeing you fall apart under him, but seeing you with someone else put him in a different seat, giving him the chance to see you through a new lens, like the way your eyes fluttered shut as you sucked Kyle’s thumb harder.
The whiny gasp when Kyle pulled away to smear his spit over your lips.
How you reached for him with a glazed look in your eyes, batting your lashes like that would give you whatever you wanted.
“Daddy.” It was directed at John, a soft whisper of encouragement and approval.
Kyle wasn't surprised in the slightest; a chuckle rumbled in his chest when you turned to John. “Yes, princess?”
“Can I?”
It was a conversation that Kyle wasn't privy to, not that he really needed to be because he knew the consequences of stepping out of the drawn boundary lines.
With a click of John's tongue, you dove straight between Kyle’s thighs and nuzzled your face between them. He smelled so good, like clean laundry with the undertones of him.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Kyle moaned; he couldn't help it, not really when you splayed your hand over the bulge in his jeans with a grin.
You leaned closer and grabbed his zipper with your teeth like a little minx and tugged on it as you popped the button. “She loves to give a good blowjob.”
John murmured as he shifted slightly, not touching you or himself, just watching intensely.
It felt like a flame had been lit in your belly that licked up your spine and pooled in your limbs, feeling both of them stare.
Kyle placed his large palm on the top of your head while you worked to free his cock; his musk wafted up to your nose. “I wonder if you taste as good as you smell.” You giggled.
Shifting closer until your tits brushed his legs, you wrapped your fingers gently around the shaft of his pretty cock and kissed the sticky tip smeared with precum. “Mhm, you do.”
A soft thump pulled your attention away to see Kyle’s head thrown back. “All I did was kiss you; I haven’t even sucked your dick yet. Men are easy.”
“You're a little mouthy too, aren't you? It's rude to talk with your mouth so full, love.” Kyle shot back and thrust his hips.
His cock slid past your lips and into your mouth; immediately you sucked him further in and bobbed your head slowly, taking your time to trace the throbbing veins, giggling as Kyle moaned, spreading his legs further apart.
You slurped and sucked, downright drooling all over Kyle’s cock eagerly, which dripped down to the curly coarse hair that padded his pubic bone; it was lewd the way you swirled your tongue over the tip as John watched with a gruff grunt. His hand reached down to pet you.
John’s eyes burned with liquid passion watching as his wife sucked his friend's cock like a melted ice cream cone; your tongue peeked from pillowy lips as you licked up the side of his cock before you sucked on the tip and jerked off the rest of him, moaning softly.
“She looks so pretty like that, doesn’t she?” John asked Kyle, who lost himself in the heat of your mouth; he bucked his hips up, making you gag while he grunted his answer. Nothing more would happen between you and him, so he savored each second of this.
John would never let another man fuck his wife; that’s his job.
But he knew his friend was in need of a woman's touch, and you so eagerly offered the help when John asked a few days ago. “Look at the way he’s melting, Daddy." You giggled, then took him all the way in the back of your throat, relaxing it as you bobbed up and down sloppily.
Sex scented the air in a musky curtain of lust and desire; John’s gaze flickered down to the way Kyle’s fingers gripped the couch as if he would float up from it and disappear into thin air; his moans were soft and heady like smooth chocolate that you wanted to eat up. Each stroke and flick of your tongue undid Kyle, who finally looked down at you, locking gazes as his orgasm broke open, sending him into a frenzy of fucking your mouth and spilling down your throat.
His chest heaved as he came down from his high that you drew out, licking and sucking his cock clean before leaning away to swallow everything. “Let’s see, darlin," John murmured. Immediately you opened your mouth to show him your tongue still glazed with Kyle’s cum.
“Good girl.” John praised and helped you off your knees and onto his lap to give Kyle a different type of show.
Great news guys!!111!1!!!!! I haven't updated my fics but I wrote nealry 4k words of freaky and diabolical smut for you <3 coming soon <3
Actually, here is a little sneak peak 🤭
"S'still cold, isn't it." He tucks a hand into your blanket cocoon and cups between your legs. "Poor thing." He kneeds, slowly grinding the heel of his palm over your most sensitive place.
"Price..." you moan, clutching at his shirt.
"Who?"
"John." You correct, but he still wasn't satisfied.
"Not what you call me." He tugs you closer. "Go on."
"Daddy." You shiver, and it was close enough. For now.
"Yeah, baby? What is it, hm? What's got you all fussy?" He plays between the heat of your thighs with stiff fingers, the sub-zero temperatures getting to him as well. But he feels you starting to thaw out, starting to relax under his touch just like he preferred you to. He never had to force you for long.
"Can't warm up."
"You can't warm up?" He repeats as if he didn't already know, bouncing you on his knee. "Well, we can't have that now, can we?" He frowns, ducking his chin to meet your eyes. "Don't worry poppet, Daddy will take care f'you. Just let me handle it."
thinking about papochka!nikolai leaving you behind to go on a mission...
part one part two
18+ mdni !!! (smut, tiniest sprinkle of angst & fluff)
cw: sub!fem!reader, dom!nik, ‼️ FAUXCEST‼️, heavy on the daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, age gap, breeding kink, controlling behavior, musk kink, i think that's it ?, word count: 1.4k
“What, do you just not want me there?” you accuse, glaring straight at Nikolai as you sit on your shared bed.
He’s standing in front of the closet, duffel bag on the floor, as he haphazardly throws clothes into it. “Do not twist my words, Malyshka.”
You roll your eyes at him as he continues to pack. “You just said–”
“I said that it is not necessary for you to come with me. I am just dropping the team off– in and out. It will do you good to spend a few days away from me.”
The worst part is he’s right, you know he is. “You just want to test me,” you mumble, slowly losing your willpower to argue.
He chuckles, zipping the bag before walking over to you. His fingers interlock with yours as he forces you to stand up, holding you tight against him. “It is not a test– not one that you can fail. Think of it as… an assessment. We will see how well you listen when I am not there.”
There it is again, that ugly reminder he’ll be leaving you behind. He coos when a small sniffle escapes you. “My sweet little girl, you will miss your Papochka that much?”
You nod against his chest with a whine. “It’s silly. I know it’s just a few days, but I feel like I just got you,” you confess, voice muffled as you try to breathe in as much of his scent as possible.
“We will make a deal then. If you are good while Papochka is gone, you will get a reward.”
Your head snaps up, heart beating just a little bit faster– with Nikolai, rewards are never something small or meaningless.
Sometimes it's material objects. Things he’s caught you secretly eyeing after being scared off by the price tag– he finds it cute that you’re shy about things like that, as if he does not have plenty of money to spare.
Occasionally, he lets you pick a rule to bend. Maybe you get to drink too much out at the pub or spend all night mindlessly doom-scrolling on your phone.
Though your favorite rewards from Nikolai are the ones that leave your cunt sore and aching for days afterwards.
Your mind drifts to the time he once spent hours licking at your soaked pussy. Tongue fucking you over and over until you’d come so many times you’d lost count.
“Deal,” you say, thighs clenched together.
You manage to follow the list he leaves you. You wake up right on time and go to bed at exactly 10:30 pm, just like he’d said to. You drink water, take your vitamins, cook three meals, and do all the small chores he leaves you.
It isn’t until day eight– several days after he’s supposed to come home– that you slip up.
You’d grabbed a random t-shirt when getting dressed for bed. You don’t even realize it isn’t one of yours until his scent hits you– leather, tobacco, and the faintest hint of oil.
You pull the collar up to your nose as you take in a deep breath, causing the shirt to ride up to your hips. Cold air creeps up your exposed thighs, causing you to instinctively snap your legs shut.
Your mind starts to drift to the last time you’d worn his shirt– it ended with you stuffed full of his cum.
You bite your lip, hand trailing down to the edges of your underwear. Nikolai may have locked away your toys, sure, but you still had your fingers.
You drag your panties down to your ankles, kicking them off to the side. You run a digit between your folds, legs spreading wide as you begin to lazily circle your clit.
You softly sigh. It feels nice, yes, but nothing like his hands. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to picture him touching you instead. “Papochka,” you whine as your finger picks up speed.
“Malyshka, I thought I told you not to play with her, da?” You yelp, yanking your hand away as you poorly attempt to tug down his shirt.
The second your brain processes that it’s really him, you jump out of bed, running straight into his arms. You tuck your head under his arm, nose buried in his chest as you breathe in deep.
His hand cups your bare cunt, the feeling of his rough skin causing you to shiver. “You also said it’d only be a couple of days, Papa. I got worried, needed a distraction,” you mumble into his shirt, feeling his chest rumble as he laughs.
“I did, apologies, my sweet girl– there were complications. What has her all worked up, hm?” He asks his fingers running through your slick folds.
You feel heat creep up the back of your neck as you glance at him. “It’s embarrassing,” you whine, only making him laugh harder.
“No such thing. Nothing should be too embarrassing to tell your Papa.”
You bite your lip, breath hitching as his hand never leaves your pussy. “I accidentally wore your shirt, and it just… smelt like you.”
Your lips crash together suddenly, his hand resting on the back of your neck as he kisses you sloppily. Your mouth stays parted when he pulls away, and a tiny string of spit falls onto your skin.
He smirks at you, chest puffed out in pride– if you weren’t so horny, you’d be giggling at the sight. “You missed your Papochka that much?”
You hum, nodding at him; you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “I am sorry for being gone for so long, let Papa make it up to you, da?”
He’s lying flat on his back as he slowly lowers you onto his cock– his shirt still covering your torso. You place your hands on his chest, fingers brushing against his hairs, preparing to try and ride him the best you can.
He chuckles and shakes his head, only laughing harder when you pout at him. “I could do it, Papa.”
“I know you could, sweet girl, but let Papochka handle it,” he coos, hand reaching out to the back of your neck.
Before you can process it, he’s shoving your face under his arm, your nose buried in his armpit, and all you can smell is him. “My malyshka, so cute, touching yourself while sniffing an old shirt– it’s okay, Papa is here now.”
He moves both of his hands down to your hips, fingers digging into your soft skin. “Deep breath,” he instructs before lifting you and slamming you down on his cock.
Your eyes are squeezed shut, muffled moans sitting behind your closed lips. His hips snap up to push himself further inside you– something you doubt is even possible. You can already feel every inch of him thrusting in and out of you, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix.
You try to lift your head, only for him to shove your right back against his underarm. “You wanted to smell your Papochka– so smell.”
It’s overwhelming in the best way; his scent, his cock, his hands gripping your hips so tight. Your stomach tenses, begging to let go of the knot settling inside of you.
Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he twitches inside you, his thrusts growing more sporadic. “Is this what you needed to calm down, Malyshka? Your Papa’s scent? His cum deep inside your womb?”
The thought of him filling you up– breeding you– is all it takes for you to let go, thighs shaking as you clench down on his cock.
He lifts your head by the back of your neck, and you gasp at the feeling of fresh air. He doesn’t give you long to catch your breath before he’s shoving his lips against yours, his tongue slipping past your lips.
He gives one final thrust before spilling inside you. His hot cum settling in the deepest parts of you– just like he promised.
You collapse onto his bare chest, his skin hot and sweaty against yours as you both try to catch your breath.
“I’m sorry, Papochka, I just, I got worried that you wouldn’t…”
He presses a kiss to your forehead, fingers tracing soft circles into your skin. “I know, and I am sorry, my sweet girl. Next time will be different, but you should know your Papa will always come back to you.”
