Boshaw's Blowjobs
✩ Masterlist! ✩
✩ Warnings: female! reader, oral sex (male receiving), cum eating, public blowjobs, established relationship ✩
✩ If you want to be added to a taglist, fill this out! ✩
✩ Length: 1.6k || Read on Ao3 ✩
✩ A/N: day 5 of kinktober!! prompt: oral sex! and who better to write it for than mr. charlemagne victor boshaw!! ✩
Moonlight shone through the open sunroof door that illuminated the dark black console between you. Sharky turned his head to see you fast asleep, face leaned on the palm of your hand and snoring. The dried drool caked on your cheek showed him just how long you’d been off in dreamworld. It was the middle of the night, after all; he couldn’t fault you for being tired. Sharky merged lanes haphazardly, although it didn’t matter since not another soul was out on the highway this late. He pulled into a truck stop a few minutes after he broke away from the main road. Sharky parked between two intimidatingly large semis near the front of the building, each both adorned with neon-colored spray paint.
Sharky leaned over the console to shake your shoulder, waking you gently. “Hey, Firecracker. Rise ‘n shine,” he smiled at you as you opened your eyes, “We’re at a rest stop, let’s go stretch out legs and get some food, hm? How’s that sound?” He took his hat off briefly to place a kiss atop your forehead. His soft brown hair flopped over his eyes captivatingly, emphasizing how naturally handsome he was. Sharky fixed his cap back on his head after he leaned back enough for the brim not to press against your face.
“Mmm, that sounds good—” you yawned, “Sharky.” Your hands balled into fists as you rubbed the sleep out of your still tired, dry eyes. “D’you know what part a Montana we’re in?”
“I think we’re somewhere near Lincoln County. Or maybe it’s Flathead County?” He scratched the back of his neck while he thought, “‘M not completely sure. Still not the best with readin’ maps.” Sharky unbuckled his seatbelt to hop out of the jeep. He quickly jogged around to the passenger side to open your door for you, helping your tired frame out of the vehicle.
You held onto his hand tightly and leaned on his shoulder, your eyes still half-shut from exhaustion. Sharky happily laced your fingers together to ensure you stayed close to him. “That’s—” you yawned again, “Comforting. The driver has no clue where he’s going.” Even though you were tired, there was still energy left to tease him with. “Can we get grilled cheese? Or beer? Or both?” You glanced up at him, and your eyes met with Sharky’s deep blue ones. A dark shadow cast over his face from the brim of his hat, but you were still able to make out his attractive features.
Sharky held you tighter while he walked to the building, his hand fumbling with the keys to lock his car. He opened the door for you again and walked in behind you. Inside, the building was just as rundown as the brick walls on the outside were. Fortunately, it didn’t have a bug infestation like the last one. There were dozens of fast food places and even a few sit-down establishments littering the borders, all tied together by a semi-clean cafeteria in the center. To the right, there were bathrooms and even a public shower.
“Zippo, sweetheart. Y’know how much I love drinkin’, but it’s too late even for me. An’ drinkin’ when you’re this tired ain’t good for ya’. So let’s just stick to the grilled cheese you want, okay?” He rubbed your upper arm soothingly while he pressed a kiss to your cheek, his goatee tickling your sensitive skin. “I can’t be drinkin’ anyway, Matchstick, I’m the driver. Can’t risk gettin’ you hurt.”
“I guess you’re right, Sharky. It’s way too late, and ‘m way too tired to be drinking.” You kissed his cheek back with a smile as you slowly started to wake up more. “You gonna get somethin’ to eat?”
He shrugged. “Not sure yet, but prob’ly some more pop an’ maybe soup, if they have it.” Sharky looked around at all of the options before he pointed at a Panera. “Let’s go to that one. You can get your sandwich, an’ I can get my soup. An’ best part of all is we won’t have to sit out in the cafeteria.” Sharky took your hand again to lead you through the weirdly empty truck stop, save for a few employees.
By the time both of you finished up your meals, the time pushed one o’clock in the morning. The roles were reversed now; Sharky was drowsy while you were alert and awake. He leaned against the fabric backing of the booth, hands up behind his head. Sharky’s sat in a manspread position, knees just far enough apart to fit yourself in between them. You slid down to the floor and silently crawled over to your boyfriend as a wry smirk grew across your face. As you got comfortable, you kicked your shoes off so you could sit on top of your calves, legs effectively folded in half. Your deft fingers undid his belt and pulled down his fly, the jeans giving way to 80s themed neon boxers. Sharky wasn’t as sleepy as you assumed, however, when you heard him chuckle darkly.
“Mmm, Matchstick? What’re you doin’ down there, sweetheart?” he asked as an eyebrow raised at you.
“Oh, nothing. Don’t mind me, Shark.” You carefully took him out of his boxers and scooted closer to his crotch; your face pressed against the fabric directly underneath his cock. You gripped him around the base with one hand, head moving up to lick at the skin just above his balls. His dick lay across your face with the bright red tip drooling on your forehead.
Sharky grit his teeth in an attempt to hold back a moan. His hands threaded through your hair to keep you in place below him. “Matchstick, honey, are you sure? I mean, we’re in—” he cut himself off with a quiet gasp. “We’re in public!” Sharky whisper-yelled, glancing down at you. His hips pushed against your face, a silent plea for you to hurry up and take him in your mouth already.
“Like that’s ever stopped you before, Mr. I-masturbate-in-my-car Boshaw,” you said with a conniving grin.
He looked away from you in favor of pushing his cock against your face more urgently. “We ain’t talkin’ ‘bout that right now.”
“We ain’t talkin’ ‘bout that right now?”
“Shuddup and suck my cock, Firecracker, before I fuck you in public too.” Luckily, there wasn't any malice behind his threat. Sharky tugged on your hair, getting precum smeared across your face.
You got the idea of what he wanted, so your mouth opened and took almost half of his cock inside. Your cheeks hollowed out as you started to bob your head. Loud, sloppy noises came from under the table that riddled your chest with the thrilling anxiety of getting caught. Drool already started to peek out of the corners of your mouth, slick and shiny against the dark shadows cast from the hanging lights above you. Sharky’s hands were still stationed in your hair; blunt nails dug into your sensitive skin. He slowed you down to prevent the noises from becoming too noticeable to the staff still working. You pulled off for air and gazed up at him.
“How’s it s’far, Shark?”
He groaned and tugged on your hair, desperate for you to continue. “Fuck, it’s amazing, Matchstick. Now keep going.”
You nodded, your hand coming up to pump him before you wrapped your lips around him again. Your head bobbed faster this time, spit soaking your chin. Sharky’s cock throbbed and drooled precum against your tongue, giving away how close he was to orgasming. His hips began to thrust in time with the pace you set, meeting you in the middle every time. With each thrust, the head of his cock brushed against the back of your throat. It wasn’t hard enough to make you gag, but just enough to make you shiver. Sharky bit his lip to help keep himself quiet; eyes rolled back in his skull slightly. “Fuck— Cumming—!” he choked out, his voice as quiet as he could possibly make it. He forced your head down further on his cock as he came. Cum filled your mouth, your cheeks puffed up with the sheer amount of it.
As soon as Sharky let go of your hair, you pulled off his cock and took a big breath through your nose. You kept his cum in your mouth like a good girl as you shifted to sit back down on the carpeted floor, your knees bent and legs spread apart on either side.
Sharky’s hand ran through his sweat-dampened hair, his hat now sitting on the table, forgotten along with the food. “Oh fuck, Firecracker.” His chest heaved up and down as he caught his breath. Sharky’s free hand cupped your chin, tilting your head so he could gaze down at you easier. He saw your cheeks still full with his cum, causing a smirk to spread across his face. “Go on, Zippo, you can swallow now. Can’t be makin’ a mess by wasting it, can we?” he said, a small dribble of cum leaked from the corner of your mouth. Sharky rubbed it away and brought his thumb up to his mouth, licking his own cum off it.
You obeyed, eagerly swallowing all of his seed. You wiped off your mouth with the back of your hand, your lips pink and almost swollen. You leaned your head against his knee with a sweet smile on your face. “‘Course not, Shark. Can’t be wastin’ any of it. ‘Specially when it’s all mine.” After a few minutes, you slid out from under the table to sit next to Sharky, cuddled up to him. You kissed his cheek, right above where his goatee started, his smirk turning back into a smile.
Sharky wrapped his arm around your shoulders to keep you close. “Next time, I’ll have’ta fuck you in public.”