And They Called It Puppy Love
✧ pairing: hybrid puppyboy bf! eric x gf! reader
✦ genre: smut
✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, missionary sex, unprotected sex, pwp, dirty talk, praise kink, spit kink, pet names, cursing, fondling, needy eric, fluffy moments, kissing, making out, hand job, degradation if you squint, multiple orgasms, c*m eating, clingy behavior, subby! eric, hybrid heat-kinda but male edition n my way cuz idc about accuracy, hybrid au
✦ word count: 7.4k words
✧ synopsis: puppyric is such a handful!
𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲
It was one of those days.
The kind where Eric let out a heartbroken whimper whenever you’d leave the bed without him when you had to rush to get ready for work. Or in his words: ‘ditch him.’
It was the type of day where you couldn’t even have a moment alone to take a piss in the bathroom. Eric had to be right by your side, within sight or else he’d swear it was the end of the world.
Let’s just say… it was hard to get things done with having a hybrid.
As soon as you pulled into the driveway today and he heard the sound of your engine from yards away, his ears perked up in glee with his tail following suit.
He attempted to remain nonchalant as he awaited for you to tread your way inside— of which, felt like a dreadful eternity. Anxiousness bubbled in his stomach to be able to waft your scent with you in the flesh instead of having to find comfort in the crevices of the couch or from your favorite fuzzy blanket.
He’d argue that having to wait for you was like having to wait for rain in a drought. It felt endless. How was it so easy for you to go work away at a 9-5 and run errands while he stayed at home feeling like a kicked puppy. Sure you had bills to pay, obligations, and a social life, but so what?!
So when your keys twist the lock and the door swings open, he suddenly forgets to maintain his composure. With a leap over the couch like a daredevil, he skips to meet you at the entrance, instantaneously wrapping his arms around you and caging you in his embrace.
“Whoa— well hey there, baby.” a laugh slips from your lips followed by a dumbfounded expression as he clings onto you so tightly that your work bags come down heavily to meet the ground, save for the takeout that you’re gripping like your life depends on it as Eric practically tackled you.
Burying his face into the crook of your neck, he noses your pulse point, wagging his tail happily from the relieving embrace of your signature perfume and natural scent. It’s unsettling that he also catches whiff of your workplace air and other outsiders you had interaction with, but nothing like a good cuddling to mark his mate all over again to fix that problem!
When you kindly part from his hold, you give him a dotting kiss on his chapped, bitten lips, followed by a ruffle of the grown out black hair that sits on his head.
Some strands of bangs seem to fall into his eyes, making him blink stupidly and frustrated him on occasion. Perhaps he should get a haircut soon before he looks too shaggy. But you fear you adore how cute he looks as is with that load of hair, so fluffy and boyish. You’d beg him to keep it as long as he possibly can until it really starts to get on his nerves.
“I’m so exhausted. Today really kicked my butt, so I brought your favorite. No cooking tonight.” you sighed weakly, closed-lip smile giving you some life as you continued to fiddle with Eric’s locks.
He yips happily, not even granting you a chance to free your feet from your dreadful work shoes before he pulls you towards the couch, ready to chow down with his favorite person.
Completely abandoning your other belongings near the front door, he quickly situates your body on the couch, taking off your shoes for you like a gentleman before you can even tease him for his hastiness.
Crinkling sounds rustle repeatedly as he assembles the contents of the takeout bag on the coffee table in front of you two. Already knowing which styrofoam tray belonged to him, he grabs it and then passes you yours, his throat rumbling so deep at the savory aroma that flies up his nose from the lift of the tray.
One second later chopsticks are opened, in hand, and used to airplane marinated noodles into his mouth. He slurps them suckers greedily like he’d been deprived of food for days and contorts his face like he’s frustrated, when it’s only from the overwhelmingly delicious taste that triggers his expressive reaction.
You just giggle next to him as he hums and nods his head in approval of the dish, digging in to his heart’s content. Meanwhile, you’re barely opening your own chopsticks to begin eating.
“Oh,” Eric starts, taking a pause in doing damage to his meal to stretch his body towards your side, leaning into your face and feeling his plump lips blot a kiss onto your cheek.
“Thanks for the food, baby.” he tells you through a mouthful of noodles, smiling at you with complete gratitude, even if he looks semi-silly with his full cheeks and some sauce from the Jajangmyeon smudged on the corner of his mouth.
Chopsticks pinched in hand, you still for a second, slightly taken aback not from his sweet gesture or sincerity— no, Eric was always so darling and openly affectionate when it came to you.
It’s just that the some days, you really needed to be reminded of how utterly blessed you were to have Eric. His kindness and attentiveness to you kept you afloat on days that drained you dry, his presence filling the tank of your body back up through quality time, words of affirmation, physical touch— all of his love languages.
He successfully rejuvenated you into a ray of sunshine after a day you believed had no end. Your face beamed from his peck, flashing your teeth into your plate like an idiot as you picked at your food, his sweetness coating you like honey on a comb.
A lazy, laidback dinner on the couch with your boyfriend was more than enough for you. You felt rich as you enjoyed your meal in the comfort of your living room, tray balanced over your thighs, legs extended and strained feet now resting freely over the coffee table.
Conversations in between bites made you feel carefree and human again. Suddenly all the problems and annoyances you dealt with at work appeared nonexistent as you listened attentively to Eric’s rambling.
He runs his mouth faster than Usain Bolt, syllable after syllable spilling out between mouthfuls and swallowing his food in seconds, not even bothering to chew his noodles despite being thick and chewy.
You always teased him for it, warning every time that he’s gonna choke one day for the way he just sucks everything up like a vacuum.
And after the usual conversations, gossiping, and giggling during eating, you’re left with full tummies and ears that have been talked off.
Now-empty foam trays were pushed to the side. Your bones sunk into the depths of the cushion beneath you, leaned back while Eric lay horizontally, his head slumped into your lap.
Your supple thighs served as a great cushion for his head. It was so comfy and everything about the current setting felt homey; He remained cuddled closely over your limbs as a hand of yours threaded into his locks.
He relaxes into your touch as your pets were generous, slow strokes of your fingers massaging his scalp, fingernails giving him a good raking of scratches behind his ears every now and again.
The television played a show that was your current favorite, eyes glued to the screen while your digits tended to giving your boyfriend some love. His eyes closed and he grumbles, almost like his version of purring while your ministrations continued.
It was a sign of contentment, snuggling merrily into you. There’s a pump of fondness in your chest as you soothed your favorite boy through these gentle touches. You know this is what Eric treasured the most, getting treated like royalty by receiving physical affection that tranquilized his senses.
It was a quiet evening now, soaking in some downtime to unwind together after another day of working tirelessly. You now were making time for your boyfriend, limbs attached and keeping one another warm without intentions to be apart for the rest of the day.
They say you feel sleepy around someone you love, and it’s seemingly true as Eric’s lids were shut, getting lulled into sleep through every run of your fingers.
He was just happy to have you home, treating every moment together like you’d been gone for weeks. Everything felt serene and the stars aligned when he was in your arms and vice versa.
Your presence brought abundant comfort that it only made sense for him to submit and fall into your touch.
So you gave him all the caresses in the world, embracing intimacy even during simple moments. You caught up on your current hyper fixation form of entertainment while he was being coddled warmly in your lap.
However, you did come to find out you have spoiled him rotten. When the phone you’ve set aside’s screen flashing on is caught by your peripheral, you get the urge to pick up your device to have a look. And it’s good that you do, seeing that a text from a coworker is within your notification center.
Temporarily, you divert your attention to respond to their message, using both hands to hold your phone, thumbs twiddling against the keyboard.
When Eric notices you’ve stopped playing with his hair, his eyelids fly open. He raises and angles his head around to see where your hand went, only to discover your phone seemed to be more important even after your exhausted eyes were blaring into a screen all day at your job.
That makes him pouty, whining audibly as he leans his head into your stomach, nudging at you for more pets.
“Gimmie a minute, baby. My coworker texted.” you don’t even give him a look of sympathy, eyes glued to your phone as you typed away while saying that.
That only frustrated him even more, especially given that it was a coworker texting you. You were at home, damn it!
He doesn’t listen to you, pushy with his persistence and continues to prod at you until you give him what he wants. He hated that work would follow you home and he hated lack of attention even more.
“Eric, come on now. I’m right here, you’re not gonna die if I don’t touch you for two seconds.” you deadpanned at him. You wouldn’t trade his vulnerability and enthusiasm for affection for anything in the world, but seriously, what has gotten into him?
“I might...” he mumbles, making you drag out a sigh from his antics. Fortunately the drama with work could be dealt with when you clocked in again tomorrow, so you tossed your phone to the side, tipping eric a pointed look.
“You’re so damn greedy.” you tell him, and as much as he’d like to use those big ole brown puppy eyes to his advantage apologetically, he has a stupid grin on his face, not the slightest bit sorry for demanding attention.
Since he happens to loathe being deprived of your touches, surely he’d take anything he can get, right?
You impulsively decide to ambush him with tickles, targeting the spots where his nerves were the most sensitive.
“Well, is this enough for you! Hm? Huh?” you became the ultimate menace, hands tormenting his sides, running all the way up to his underarms.
Immediately upon touch, it evokes him laughing and twitching, squirming like a bug to escape your torture. You’re evil, he thinks. Yelps released as he weakly attempts to run from your tickles. It only worsens when your devious hands crawl under and up his t-shirt, pinching at his bare tummy and ignoring his voice cracking and breathless laughter begging you to stop.
This is some real entertainment for you, grinning like a cheshire cat as he poorly attempted to fight you off. His fit of giggles motivated you more, giving you strength to keep on.
It’s such an overwhelming feeling to be tickled. He’s squirming away from your hands, folding and jerking his body madly so much so, that he ends up pushing his body off the couch, face-planing right into the ground.
He tumbles and scrunches his face in an exaggerated manner, making you gasp and giggle from the sudden fall.
“Eric!” you called out, shaking your head mentally at how silly he was. So overdramatic and goofy.
“Nah, that was a personal attack. You’re so mean to me.” he pouts, carding his fingers through his messy locks, legs sprawled out on the floor.
“Yeah, yeah.” you give an eye roll and wave him off. He was being a little bratty, but perhaps you’ll let it slide since you can be a little shit, too.
He pulls a long face, sulky as he looks up at you from his spot on the floor, looking weak and defeated.
It makes you giddy when he gives you that pathetic look. He was just so fun to mess with. You’re lucky he isn’t in a playful mood right now or else, you fear he would’ve found strength to pull an uno reverse on you and have you pinned down, straddling you and showing zero mercy.
After all, he really just craved for at least a crumb of your time.
“Will you forgive me if I let you take a bath with me?” the offer is thrown at him like a bone, and while he tried to act like it wasn’t the proposition of a lifetime, you don’t miss the sparkle in his orbs when the question is asked.
His tail involuntarily sways while he purses his lips to fight back visible happiness, but that furry appendage gives everything away.
“That’s what I thought.” you lift your weight off the sofa, making Eric follow suit. He stumbles while getting on his feet, too set on sharing a bath together.
Following behind you like a lost puppy in his own home, you two find your way into the bathroom. You run warm water, finding the prettiest bath bombs to drop into the bath water, fizzing and dispersing a swirl of colorful dyes and exotic fragrances.
Clothes hit the floor and then you’ve found your naked body slotted between Eric’s legs in the tub. A heavy sigh falls from your lips when you settled in. Immediately, your boyfriend’s hands maneuver to either side of your neck, clutching you securely against him.
Your backside is pressed into his chest, soaking in the suds and weight from the day lifted off your shoulders.
Four walls and the tub separates you from the outside world. It’s only you and your lover in the room— Eric, who takes care of you and holds you as if you were threatening to drift away.
A loofah in his hand works to lather your skin in soap, gently rubbing the sponge thoroughly from your breasts to your lower back, allowing you to use his body as a cushion while he scrubs you clean.
You were being pampered as if you were at a spa. In between the cleansing and shampooing, his lips would fall on your shoulders and neck, soothing you even more through chaste kisses that spoke a language of love, tenderness, and praise.
Giggles slipped through, swishing your feet along the water and reaching your hand back to rake it through the nape of his neck, returning some of that affection back.
Your face turned to head for his lips, connecting them with your own and inevitably stretching yours against his as you can’t help but smile in bliss.
The remainder of the bath continued with washing one another up and sprinkling little gestures in between. Even after every inch of skin and hair was scrubbed and smelled as fresh as a daisy, there was no urgency to get out.
The warmth from Eric’s bare body engulfing yours and drowning out worries through the weighted blanket of water soaking the stress out from you was more than enough to keep you reeled in. But surely it wouldn’t be comfortable or safe to fall asleep in the tub. And you wouldn’t want pruney fingers from spending hours in the water, now would you?
The firm but cloud-like mattress was awaiting for you both, so after a little dawdling, you drained the tub dry and pulled yourselves out from the rectangular vessel.
That followed Eric’s wet curls shaking madly in all directions, wrapping one another up like burritos in towels, and moisturizing skin care routines. Of course, laughter was exchanged and remained endless all throughout. You didn’t realize how the most mundane things could actually elicit sweet memories and fun by having a partner to do it with.
Like, since when was popping pimples and brushing teeth the most hilarious thing in the world? It seemed so when Eric is around.
When hygienic routines were completed, it was time for lights out and to descend into dreamland. You’re ready for bed in a casual, patterned matching set while Eric wears his classic-cutesy Mario pajamas, his own cozy matching set that makes him feel like a kid again.
Once again, you’re curled up into his figure, throwing a leg over his body, along with an arm that follows suit.
Every inch of him is also wanting to keep you close, his tail snaking around one of your legs, raising goosebumps across your skin as his fur brushes and remains tightly wrapped along your limb.
“You’re so cute, you know that?” you refer to his tail that protected your skin, your fingers holding his nape fondly, grazing your nails over his damp hair.
The room is dark, no sign of brightness or fluorescent lights as everything has been shut off for slumber, but you can bet on your entire life that he wears a smile, cherubic cheeks on display from your sudden comment. Especially when you followed it with a goodnight kiss to his neck.
“Goodnight, handsome.”
This is what he lived for. Your bodies were glued together and you guys recharged in the same bed. A bed where you two shared secrets, stolen kisses, and so much sweet sex. He was infinitely lucky to be sleeping next to you.
He presses his mouth over the top of your head, giving you your own bedtime kiss as he ensures that you’re tucked nicely from the duvet, secure and cozy enough to your liking.
“G’night baby.”
Snuggling into his chest as a pillow, you allow your heavy eyelids to droop shut. The last thing you recall is the sensation of his hand strumming your back, encouraging you to rest.
Eventually, you fall asleep to one another’s breaths and fresh scent, weight in the clouds of your pillowy-dreams and sleeping soundly knowing that the person you’re next to will be the comfort that greets you in the morning.
———————————————————————————
Eric is the first one to open his eyes.
And unfortunately when he does, he’s pissy about it.
He’s groggy and disoriented when he realizes his body decided to wake up. His face contorts into a frown once it registers that his slumber has been cut short, wiggling his feet as he gains consciousness and stretches an arm out.
It makes him raise his messy bedhead when it’s evident you two are no longer joined by the hip. While knocked out, it seems that there was much movement from him, awoken sprawled out with a limb hanging off the bed, and on the borderline of falling off it with the covers kicked off his entire body.
It’s inclination to scoot back against your figure, but this time, a sudden flash washes over him. It flares him up, face, chest, and neck feeling like they’re flushing red hot and rising in temperature. That could explain why he’s pushed himself to the edge and allowed you to hog the covers.
He swears under his breath from the heat wave that hits him, sweat beginning to form on his upper lip. It compels him to hastily fumble with the buttons of his pajama long sleeve, disconnecting those suckers and ripping himself free of the material, swinging it towards the floor.
Now bare-chested, he believes that ‘outta do the trick. He should’ve known better than to sleep in a long sleeve while the season was still mildly warm.
But when he flops his head onto the pillow, his skin is still rippling in flames. It’s annoyingly persistent, making him grunt as it won’t let him sleep or breathe peacefully.
His pants join the shirt on the ground, and when he yanks them off, he’s painfully aware of early morning wood, bulge confined by his briefs but prominent and much of a problem to make him let out a little hiss.
Man, the sun’s not even out and he just wants to sleep. His stupid genetic code and feral nature is deciding now is a good time to play. Meanwhile, you’re lying next to him, in a state of sleeping soundly and focused on getting profound rest.
Ignoring the growing issue at hand for your own sake, he decides to roll over on his side, backside facing towards you as if his problem would magically disappear.
But, of course, that’s not how things work. There’s no possible way to ignore this.
No matter how he repositions his limbs and tosses and turns as if he can shake off the feeling, there will be no cure for the heat that surges through his veins that doesn’t involve you.
The thick and heavy air swallows him whole, throbbing sensation hanging hefty in between his legs, eating away his brain cells even while he attempts to run away from it.
He shifts uncomfortably, straining every inch of his body through gritted teeth, veins bulging from his forearms and sweat building up all throughout, perhaps even drenching the sheets.
He curls his form as he rocks himself back and forth, fighting with himself even though this was not something he could win at. The room felt stifling to him, walls suffocating and close to breaking, heat making his skin scorching and awfully sweaty, close to cracking down and giving into his animalistic voice that’s ringing in his head.
Eric teased himself with every movement he made, wiggling his hips and sensitive cock twitching with any ounce of friction. Pathetic whimpers and rumbles of groans sounded from his throat, letting free in his poor attempt to maintain his composure.
Much to his dismay, he alarms you through his noises that you happen to catch. Your sluggish voice airs out, moaning laced with tiredness from being awoken.
“Y/n?” he chokes out, whimpering just from saying your name. “Sorry for waking you, baby.”
Mentally, Eric scolds himself for disrupting your sleep with his stupid suffering. He’s such a fucking horndog.
You’re heavy-eyed as you shift to find him on the bed, turning to your other side, forcing the exhaustion out from your eyes through harsh rubs when you are met with your boyfriend awake in distress.
“Eric, you okay?” your tone was gentle, yet filled with concern.
“N—no.” he stutters sheepishly. He was dying. And solely hearing the cadence of your voice makes it feel like he’s swallowing flames, needing you to tackle the fire that’s igniting inside of him.
In haste, you sit up, reaching over to turn on the lamp sitting on your nightstand. Now that the darkness has disappeared, you’re not blind to the physical distress he’s in, sweating buckets even as he’s practically almost stripped naked and flushed red from his chest upwards.
“What’s wrong?” you scoot towards him, inspecting his face, your own features souring up at the way his bangs clung to his forehead, sticky in sweat.
Using the back of your hand, you feel his cheeks and forehead, worry wrinkling your skin when it feels like he’s roasting in an oven.
“Shit, baby you’re burning up. I think you’re running a fever.” Eric releases a shaky sigh in response to both your words and touch, feeling more and more miserable by the minute. His glassy eyes watch you scan him with pity. His lips are cracked and throat is dry, body sore and aching for you. Just your scent alone is torture for him right now when you’re not playing with his dick.
“Let me go get some medicine—”
“No! Stay— i’m not sick!” he jumps his body up and makes you halt movement from his interjection.
His lips quiver and ears fall flat, embarrassed to acknowledge his problem aloud although this wasn’t you guys’ first rodeo.
It’s… well, you know…” he trails off, avoiding your gaze as he waits for you to put two and two together, not having the strength to fully verbalize his struggle.
And then you put the pieces together. It clicks. The excessive grunting. The way his entire body shivers when you barely brush a finger against him. The vein on his neck that sticks out and looks like it’s going to rupture. The lack of clothes.
Your eyes fall to his crotch, and there you meet his hard erection, beckoning for even a sliver of attention. It’s so bulky and visibly demanding, making you wonder how could you miss it? And even given the ungodly hours of the night, your core flutters from his package up and fighting for attention.
You should’ve known immediately.
“Now? Eric, I have to get up for work in a few hours!” you groaned with a huff. You loved Eric unconditionally, but time and place wasn’t a thing when it came to a hybrid.
“It really hurts, Y/n!” his words come out pitchy, lacking the ability and mentality to remain collected.
“Please, just a hand job. I promise i’ll be quick and good!” he scrambles out when you firmly pressed your lips together, signaling disapproval. You couldn’t believe how sexually dependent a hybrid could be.
You could call him a nuisance, but he is your boyfriend after all. And knowing how going left untouched could make him cry so much he’d faint, cock beating red and wetting his white briefs with precum, you had to step in.
Those orbs of his were glazed in anguish and urge, imploring you to have mercy on him and act fast. His balls were going to end up turning blue the more his arousal was prolonged, and so he hoped you’d take the time to massage his dick just this once.
“Ughhh, fine.” you gave in. Of course you’d give into his needs. You’d be a monster to leave him restless and feel as if he’s burning in hell through his rut.
Not wasting anymore time, you pull at the waistband of his briefs, tugging the underwear off and freeing his entire shaft swiftly.
Once the air hits his cock, he hisses at last of being free, whole body shuddering when your hand lands on his hardness.
“Ugh—ah! T-thank you…” his voice wavers, moaning shakily with a thrown back head as your wrist moves to work your magic, stroking his cock skin thoroughly and using your other hand to give his flexed thigh some feathery caresses.
His mouth stuck ajar, already blown senseless as you gripped and stimulated his rod. He held himself up on the mattress with his hands, fisting the sheets underneath him while you went to town on him.
You pitied how worked up he is. Precum dribbled and smeared down from his tip, collecting and wetting his shaft, producing filthy noises from the act as you ran your hand up and down.
Hushed cries pushed past his throat, never faltering as you kept a good and tight pace, your attention shifting back and forth between the girth in your hand and to his face distorted in ecstasy.
“How’s that feel, baby boy?” it comes out almost as a whisper, beguiled by how he writhes just from the pressure applied by your hand. His cock is so slippery and warm, beating and dripping with need.
To be quite honest, the sight grants you your own wetness settling in your panties, aroused with a pussy that’s beginning to pulse as you jacked off Eric.
“So fucking good!” he responds, eyelashes fluttering and nibbling on his bottom lip. His glans tingled through every passing of your soft hand, hips having a mind of their own by twitching upwards and trying to amp up the friction as if your movements weren’t enough.
You raised your brows and clicked your tongue, finding interest in how your boyfriend was such a pathetic mutt. His ruts overcame him with zero control, acting like a whiny, babbling mess just for some friction and stimulation.
There is a space for pity reserved for him in your brain. However, it’s overshadowed by how it’s kinda cute seeing just how on edge and flustered sexual frustration could get him.
He was glowing from the sweat and rosy tint that spread across his cheeks, dopey eyed with the occasional close and roll whenever you ran over a thick vein or fiddled with his tip.
On top of that, he had two very hot heads; both ready to blow their brains out.
It was exhilarating having the upper hand, knowing that you were the only one he’ll always turn to— even if that means crying like a bitch just for a stupid handjob.
“Hm, such a bad boy for waking me up for this. You’re so lucky I love your dick.” you gripped him more for extra emphasis on your words, more helpless whimpers unleashing out from him.
There was something about being reprimanded or praised for his behavior that became a kink of his, thriving off how you treated him. He wanted to be a good boy for you, but sometimes, it was hard whenever he had no control over certain circumstances.
Luckily, he lived for whatever title you’d give him, shamelessly getting off even if you played mean for a second. You were still so kind to give him what he needed.
And so when you pulled at the ridges of his head with your thumb and fondle with those flexible yet firm balls of his, you’ve targeted his most sensitive parts, stroking and petting his nerves, making his sack tighten up.
Pressure and fullness is heavily present from the waist down, intensified and signaling that there is no point in return, indicating that he’s going to blow a load even if he believes he’s not ready to.
You persist feeling up his wet cock skin, tonguing your teeth at how good it felt to toy with his erection. He spoke to you through shallow breaths and throbs of his shaft, pumping him to your heart’s content so you could get him to empty his tank.
“I’m— I don’t think i’m gonna last long,” he warns you through famous last words, no space held for a chance to respond to his utterance as his dick spazzes out following that.
Your hand still latched onto his length, your strokes dying down and freezing up as his ruddy tip dribbles cum out onto your fingers, and spurts out gobs uncontrollably into your face, making you draw your eyes shut and gasp as his fluids taint your features.
The release and frequent pulses of his cock has him moaning repeatedly from the weight off his shoulders. His ears flicked and tail tensed up, senses floating on cloud nine from the relief granted.
Although still in some sort of a trance from cumming, Eric takes quick— dare you say, impatient initiative to remove the cloudy ejaculation that glued all around your hand.
You’re baffled when his way of cleaning is by promptly taking your hand in his own, pulling it towards his face and inserting those drenched fingers into his mouth.
Suddenly, your digits are enclosed and trapped by his lips, getting soaked up in the heat of his mouth as he sucks them clean, drinking and swallowing his own vicious cum.
Wide eyed and stunned, you watch as he commits such an obscene, sinful act, happily ingesting fluid that has oozed from the cock he possesses.
Even if you wanted to, you can’t find the words for his behavior. His eyes blare into yours and hold a stare, pupils blown out and full of a beastly desire that doesn’t look like it’ll die down anytime soon. Like he’s anticipating for more.
He bobs his head as he ensures your digits only have traces of his saliva left behind, drawing them back by your wrist when he deems nothing remains.
Still, the other half of his release stuck to your face, and so, he whips his tongue out to sloppily lick your cheeks, nose, and temple, not letting any trace of his substance behind.
He pants in your face like he just ran a marathon, thirsty with lust as he runs the flat of his tongue over your skin, continuing to taste himself like a filthy whore.
“Eric… baby,” you whined, shamelessly so damn wet from how insatiably worked up he is.
When he finishes, he presses his forehead into yours, space nonexistent. You get lost in every hot breath he takes hitting your face, and his eyes that make it known that the jerking was just an appetizer, the relief from it being only temporary.
“Really need your pussy, ma. Lemme fuck you, please.” he swallows, adam’s apple bopping as he cups either side of your face, swiping a thumb just at the high point of your cheek.
He licks his lips once more this night with urgent craving, pores perspiring as his still-hard cock prods into your clothed stomach, burning to be inside of you.
There’s no turning back now, Eric having possessed your pussy and hormones to respond to his urges. He’d rut on the carpet like a dog searching for friction if you decided to kick his offer to the curb and go back to sleep.
Fortunately for him, your sex was already clenching at the idea of his hardness digging inside you.
“The things I do for you…” you try to sound annoyed, actions telling otherwise when you smash your lips right into his, knocking the air from his lungs.
Hard and headstrong is what describes the makeout. You both pant and moan as your lips moved against one another’s, trying to match a pace but racing with desperation to deeply get into it.
Everything was sloppy. The tongue that savored his own cum now thrusted into your mouth to swirl against your own, saliva slipping from mouth corners.
“You’re the fucking best.” he withdraws from the kissing to growl out, tugging on your bottom lip and then releasing, inflamed to crack open your other set of lips.
He pushes you back, now laid on the mattress with his naked, aroused figure hovering over the length of your body. The sleepwear covering you gets undone and shoved off, unveiling your bare tits, midriff, and pussy that’s hiding between your thighs.
Of which, he quickly slots a knee in between to open that cunt up for business. Your slick pussy is revealed to him, eyes and cock bulging in lust at the sight.
Sweet profanities come out from his mouth, grabbing his dick and angling it to insert into your hole recklessly, not caring about prep or that he was about to fuck you raw until you were overwhelmingly stuffed with his cream.
His girthy hardness pushes through your folds, sinking his hips all the way down until he bottoms out. The pressure between your legs hurts so good, putting up with it through meek whimpers.
Eric feels like he’s been waiting insufferable hours for this. With his cock now nestled warmly inside your sacred tunnel, he sighs in relief with a dreamy smile, eyes closed from immersing in the moment.
He felt like a damn virgin, already overwhelmed at the snug sensation of your walls hugging his manhood. His jaw clenched while trying to keep his cool, hiding his face in the crook of your neck .
“Shhh, good boy… Yeah I know, pup. I know.” you patted his backside, knowing that Eric’s hormones were going through the fucking roof. You embraced his body for a moment as he settled in your sex, adjusting and allowing space for some breath regulation.
And then, the sex started with quiet purrs of his voice in between soft, sensual kisses on your neck. You allow your sweet boy to draw his lips all over your upper body, tail swinging and your body arching upwards from his mouth cherishing your skin.
You wanted him just as bad; The sinful sounds coming from your mouth and soaked pussy was proof. He was going to jerk into you all night until you milked him dry.
A storm of pent up sexual rage and frustration is behind every roll of his hips, through every in and out stroke. His frontside is so burning hot to the touch against your skin, his movements determined yet tangled.
He boned into you like you were going to be ripped away from his arms. The veins on his body prominently stick out, panting through every push and plunge, stealing any form of your clarity and ability to speak with the crashing down of his lips onto yours.
Bodies moved together in heat and filth. The feeling of skin is locked inside your minds, hips driven by carnal desire. You both chased for release and lips, nipping, licking, and stroking against each other’s appendages while rocking so much that the mattress underneath creaks helplessly.
A string of saliva connects you both together like rope when he pulls away, almost like you’re destined to remain chained together. You whimper from now only having the memory of his lips onto yours from seconds ago.
All is forgiven when he delves into your perky tits, buds so erect and anticipating his attention.
He falls into them like it’s his destiny, planting kisses all over and between, sucking on your nipples, his moans vibrating over your skin.
Marks of his desperation and affection are left behind in the form of bites that would bruise red and purple later. You let him play rough, clawing onto his back for support during his divine devotion. You swallowed and warmed his shaft in wetness and hugs as he continued on, only growing the fire that’s already been lighted.
Even your breasts were wet and shining from his saliva that soaked the fleshy skin. When he raised his head up, some of his saliva seeped from the corner of his mouth, trailing in a line down his chin.
“Baby, you’re drooling,” you breathed out, lips parted as you reach a thumb up to wipe him clean, making him pause for a moment as he looks at you.
Given the heat of the moment, he doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed one bit. And frankly, you don’t think it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It turns you on, the way he’s slobbering all over your tits, drooling like a mutt for your flesh and body. It’s so painfully pathetic that your cunt beats a million times, swelling your clit.
Bringing your thumb to your mouth, you give it a good swirl as you suck his saliva out from the skin, giving him pouty eyes that teased and batted for him.
A low growl reverberates from his chest, believing he’s going to explode if he doesn’t stuff that slutty pussy of yours until you’re crying from fullness.
“Gonna fill you up, ma. You’re gonna take it all.” he warns, thrusts building up and body shaking madly because of it.
It’s not long before his jackhammering and slams of his pelvis against your sensitive parts makes you punch-drunk, babbling and crying out gibberish once he’s triggered your release.
You convulse and push up on your toes, head thrown back as you cum all over his cock, gripping and inevitably squeezing the cum out from his dick, too.
It’s a stuffy room full of obscene sounds and soaking body parts. Your body trembles as your pussy spilled, vision blurred in ecstasy and mind hotboxing in the clouds.
Slow blinks and a hazy mind is what you’re on, defeated post orgasm. However, Eric’s energy is everlasting. His recovery time is nonexistent, deciding that he hadn’t maxed out yet.
It’s like his hips have a mind of their own, rutting into your spilled pussy, grunting and huffing for something more.
You weakly moan, overstimulation stinging your nerves and stringing them out. Your cunt might as well be numb, thighs buzzing with the occasional jerk of your legs.
Eric is so persistent, puncturing and piercing his cock past your folds over and over again. The slick and squelching sounds as he drove his dick only pushed him more, needing you to empty his seed a million and one times.
“Mine, mine, mine.” he repeated, humping over your figure. His pubic bone rubbed against yours harshly, making every stroke count and making your walls clench even when you believed you’ve had enough.
You made it to the finish line but he’s aiming for a marathon, his cock still insanely hard and unyielding, carrying loads that needed to be poured out.
Thinking with his dick and not his other head, he was oblivious to your cries begging to calm down and ease off his strokes. He doesn’t have any plans to stop until the sun comes up, tense and throbbing with pleasure as he gets squeezed and stimulated by your silky sex
He’s bewitched by your body, practically howling like a hound, the dog hybrid part of him unleashing like a beast while he fucks you deep into the mattress.
“Babe, slow down! it’s t—too much.” your pounded pussy can only bear such a pace for so long, eyes watering with every in and out push and pull his cock takes, slipping into your abused hole like nothing.
Cries that plead mercy are no where near his radar even though he’s right on top of you, consumed by lechery.
It takes having to yank with force on his sensitive ears for him to get his act together and keep him in check. He whimpers and croaks a cry, hips stuttering and head cowering as you urged for his submission, snapping him out of his animalistic daze.
With a firm grab of his chin to keep him up and ensure held eye contact, you cease his movements, forcing him to obey.
“Eric… don’t be a bad boy. Where’s my good boy?” you tsk, putting on a disappointed look, threatening him with just your eyes that you’d walk out right now if he couldn’t get under control.
A frustrated, strangled whine comes out of Eric, red-faced and ashamed for being a little too much over eager.
“Just wanna cum…” he whimpers.
“I know, baby, I know. Just slow down for me.” you cradle his face, giving him a weak smile while he gives you an apologetic one back, leaning into your hold.
What he does next is a complete contrast to how he was fucking you a couple minutes ago. His soft side reveals itself even through his painful rut, Eric kissing the underside of your ear and falling face into your neck as he slowly starts rolling his hips again.
“Atta’ boy. My good boy.” you praised through a sigh, fingers loosely messing and fidgeting with his hair as he his movements are deep yet gentle, fueled by passion and raw love.
He hums and smiles into your skin at the enhancement of emotional intimacy. He appreciates the skin on skin contact, the feeling of his manhood sheathed in your cunt, the sounds you made that verbalized how good it was to be underneath him.
You’ve found harmony in the bedroom, connecting as one and time stopping as he takes his time with your precious body.
He’s inclined to crowd your face by rubbing his nose against yours, breath so familiar and warm like a hug. Kisses are so sensual yet precious, not fleeting or hurried. He makes love to you with intent and affection, bodies caressing one another and mumbling cheesy yet beautiful lines.
And when you both finish once more, his body drops limp over yours. Out of breath and his manhood stuffed and locked inside your creampie, you settled in peace for a minute.
Naked and glued together is how you evidently end up being drifted into sleep tonight for a second time. And much to your surprise, Eric’s stamina and energy finally caught up to him, too.
But seriously— you highly doubt that.
Just wait, in 30 minutes, he’ll be humping into you once again.
Safe to say, you’ll be calling out of work in the morning.
𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲 𐂯ྀིྀི 𑣲
