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Afternoon Surprise

((back again with more delicious writing. this is the first smut that i’ve written since i was fourteen, no lie. please feel free to send me some feedback on this. it’s inspired by a script found on reddit but was so heavily modified that it’s not even the same story anymore. as with my other writing thus far, this is genderless.))

It was the end of a long day, although you were excused from work early. You had been working as a general assistant at a printing company for the last two years, and it was incredibly hard work. Still, you sucked it up and went to work every morning because your dream was to be a writer, and writers usually start working mundane jobs at printing companies. Every time that someone asked you if you could clean a bathroom (a task reserved for custodial staff) or every time that someone would hit on you: you tried to remind yourself that it was for a bigger purpose. It was also a job that paid relatively well, which is why you had been so excited to get the job in the first place. You had left your hometown to move to Sydney so that you could be closer to your boyfriend, Michael. The two of you had met online and instantly became friends over your shared interest of movies and television programs. It was the music that won over your heart, though. Michael had excellent taste in music, and every single lyric he shared with you was a more in depth glance at his heart. He begged you to move to Sydney, to live with him, and although you had been apprehensive at first you were quick to agree to it because he had written you a ballad about how difficult it was to live apart. So you sold all of your belongings, taking with you only your clothes, and you changed your life.

Your relationship was strong, although there was a lot of financial struggle at first. You didn’t have a job when you first arrived in Australia, and Michael had worked at the Super Hero Beach comic shop ever since junior year of high school. He made enough to pay the rent and the electric, but food was always a concern for you. You applied to a lot of different jobs in different positions before finally being hired at the company where you work now. It gave you enough money in your pocket to go on dates and just spend time without worry, so you couldn’t complain too much. Today, however, had been a bit difficult. There was a book about to be published and no one knew what was going on. You spent most of your morning in the elevator moving from office to office as quickly as possible to pass messages, when they simply could have picked up a phone and called three floors down instead. You wondered sometimes if they just liked to torture you. Your boss, Miss Fiedleman, noticed that you were really feeling high strung after lunch and said that you should take the afternoon off. You didn’t hesitate to grab your coat and run out the door. You were wanting to see what kind of day Michael was having, but you needed to make a couple of stops first. You hit up the corner store from your office and purchased a small six pack of soda cans, and then stopped by the guitar shop before driving your second hand car to the comic shop. As you approached the door, you could see past the reflecting sunlight and saw him standing behind the counter, ringing up a man and his two sons. You pulled open the door, your purchases in hand, and stood off to the side while you tried to pretend to look around the store. The eldest son gave you a blank stare before being ushered out by his father. Michael gave them a hearty wave goodbye and thanked them loudly before the door shut entirely and he could turn his full attention to you. “Hi there, sweetheart.” You leaned across the counter so that your lips could meet in the middle and he pulled away with instant questions. “Aren’t you supposed to be making a paycheck?” You smirked, nearly rolling your eyes. “I got the afternoon off, actually.” He smiled wide at the sound of your voice. “So you came here just to torture me, then?” You feigned offense at his little joke and lifted your hands to show him your shopping bags. “I actually brought you a surprise, you animal.” Michael was instantly intrigued.

You set down the soda and he made grabby hands for it, being his usual goofy self. You reach your hand down into the other shopping bag, pulling out three new volumes of his favorite music magazines and set them on the counter with a crinkled plop. His eyes went wide and he glanced up at you before shuffling through the issues. “You didn’t.” He spoke with a genuine tone of shock in his voice and it gave you a rush to know that you had made him so happy. “I did, on the way here. Oh, and you’ll never guess what just so happens to be on page twenty-six of your most favorite.” He ripped the plastic wrapping off of the magazine on top, a publication that focused on bands and musicians in Sydney. He flipped through the pages and you began looking through one of the bins stuffed with boarded comics. They were organized alphabetically and although you weren’t looking for anything particular, you were trying to figure out how long it would take you to get through the ’S’ bin. You could still see Michael though. In the corner of your eye, he found the proper page and threw his fist in the air as a symbol of triumph. You had already perused the demo issue at the store and had known that Michael’s band had been featured. They weren’t famous, but you were certain that they would be. The four of them, Michael and his friends from school, were talented and dedicated. To them, the band was more than a hobby: it was something to be passionate about. You supported them at every show as their audiences grew and now they were being featured in the local magazine because they were nominated for a local radio award. It was all based on votes, so it was really up to the fans but you were still hopeful about it. He was muttering to himself and his words were unclear, so you continued to explore the shelves and bins of the store. There was a glass case full of figures of different heroes and video game characters, and you very nearly pressed your face against the glass. Michael snapped out of his head space and noticed the look of boredom on your face, offering you something to drink. “I have a sweetheart, and so I just got some sodas that I can share.” You loved the way his smile looked so energetic, stretched across his mouth in a way that his cheeks pressed against the shape of his eyes. You accepted the offer and walked back to the counter to retrieve the soda. It was his favorite sugar induced coma in a can, and although it was rather sweet for your taste you knew how special it was that he had offered you any at all. You sipped on the lukewarm beverage, silently agreeing to not discuss the fact that it seemed over carbonated. Michael seemed to finish his all too soon and was quickly taking the can away from you and finishing that as well. You thanked him silently with a tender look in your face that he returned before leaning over the counter again to kiss you.

“You wanna go check your pull bin?” It was an obscure question to anyone else, but you had visited Michael at work enough to know that this was his way of inviting you to the back room. You both had spent many afternoons making out among the boxes of unsorted comics and remnants of whatever the last tabletop game was from the weekly game night. You may have been adults with responsibilities, but damned if you didn’t love feeling like a teenager by sneaking into a store room and praying that nobody found out. You gave Michael another kiss and proceeded to the back room with a nod, as he gently pulled you along by the hand. He closed the door behind him, even though the configuration of the hallway made it so that no one could see into the back room. You leaned back against the table sitting in the center of the room as Michael took a large step towards you. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you flush against him while his lips assaulted your neck and throat with hot, wet, open mouthed kisses. He knew full well that it was the point of most weakness for you, and he wasn’t shy about it at all. You put a hand on either side of his face and pulled his lips to yours, crashing with electric fever as his hands moved down to the waist of your jeans. You knew all too well that he was reverting to his own teenage tendencies and you grabbed his hands to force him pause. He looked at you and as your eyes met, your breath hitched. His eyes were nearly swollen anticipation, his breathing already heavy and you knew that he was going to turn whiny at any moment now. He needed you to let him proceed, for his own sake more than for yourself. He opened his mouth, most likely to beg you for the thing that you had already decided to give in to. You gave him a few more sloppy kisses before releasing his hands and letting him unzip your jeans and pull them down. He wasted no time in reminding you of his touch, a touch that you knew so well but admittedly were scared of forgetting. You both worked such odd hours that you often went to bed exhausted, but Michael never let it slip your mind how desirable you were to him. He kissed your tummy as he worked his way downward, his hands running up and down your thighs before he gave in to your trembling. His mouth was on you, his breath flooding your sensitive skin with warmth and the gentle sensations of his tongue. Your head rolled back, your eyes rolling closed and you nearly lost your ability to hold yourself up. Michael caught you slipping back ever so slightly and pulled away from you to make sure that you were okay. You glanced down to see him smiling devilishly, but you couldn’t help but whine at him for taking away the pleasure he had been freely giving before. “Michael, don’t stop.” You nearly moaned it, your voice cracking somewhere within the request and his lip trembled before he continued on with his assault. It didn’t matter to you how he had learned those terribly wonderful tricks, and you didn’t care enough to ask. To you, it was a good thing that he had experience. It was something you had the benefit of receiving demonstrations of quite often. You could feel your heat rising in your chest as your stomach began to tighten. You lifted your hips to meet Michael and he groaned at the motion, his hands snaking up from your thighs and to your rear, as if trying to keep you close. That was all it took to pull you up to the edge of your high, and you threw your gaze to him. You were a stuttering mess, so close to unraveling at his mercy. “M-Mikey,” his eyes turned up at you with the sound of his name and the way that his bright green eyes suddenly looked dark made you moan loudly. “You’re gonna make me cum.” He hummed against you, sending a heavily coated surge of pleasure rippling through your core, and you could feel yourself peaking when suddenly, the bell on the front door of the store rang. Michael groaned again, though obviously in upset than pleasure. He wiped his mouth and kissed your cheek before adjusting his pants and leaving the room. You were feeling rather upset to be so close to your finish line just to have it ripped away, but it gave you a chance to catch your breath. Michael was, after all, rather merciless when it came to pleasing you. He liked to tease you, but never kept you from your orgasm.

When he re-entered the room and saw you still standing pants-less, he began to laugh. You must have given him a sour look because he quickly pulled you away from the table to kiss you. “I don’t mean to laugh. You just look so incredibly hot, baby.” He whispered it in your ear, the feeling of his breath forming goosebumps down your arms as his hands wandered. When he slipped a hand down between your legs, you let out a gentle growl and it immediately caught his attention, along with the obvious signs of your arousal. He nibbled on your cheek, trailing across your jaw and skipping past your mouth to reach the delicate skin behind your ear. You shivered, and he stifled a chuckle before giving you one last kiss. “Turn around for me, sweetling.” You did as you were told, turning around and laying your weight onto the table for support. Your hands stretched outward, holding onto the table for support as he unbuckled his jeans. You grew rather impatient and were about to comment on the amount of time that he was spending getting ready but then could suddenly feel him grinding against you. You could feel hard he was, how hard you had made him, and it sent shivers down your spine. He noticed, ever an attentive lover, and his fingertips gently grazed the soft flesh of your back and it caused you to moan gently against the table. He spit into his hand, giving himself several pumps before taking things farther. He entered you slowly, pausing only to allow your body time to take him in. It hadn’t been that long since the last time that you had made love, but it had obviously been too long for your liking. Everything felt so much more sensitive, and he felt so much larger than you had remembered him. He moaned in the softest way, pressing further into you until his hips met yours and then began to pump himself inside of you. The room filled with your whimpers and his curses as he quickened his pace. It wasn’t long until he was slamming against you, his hands on your hips to pull you back against him as soon as your hips had parted. You hadn’t realized how loud you were getting until he leaned forward to whisper into your ear. “That’s a good little one, baby. Scream for me.” It was all too much. His hand wrapped around your throat and he pulled you so that you were standing in front of him, taking him at an odd angle as your breath labored under his tightened grip. Once again, Michael thrust harder and you found yourself whimpering for release. “It’s alright, sweetheart. Let go for me.” The graveling of his voice followed by his growls of concentration sent you to your finish line. He was trying so hard not to finish first, and it was only fair that you granted him that success. You emptied with several jolted aftershocks before you could feel him pour into you. You leaned back down against the cold laminate of the table as he pulled out of you and you turned to face his grinning face. He was really quite proud of himself, sweat glistening across his forehead as you pulled him closer to you and your lips met in tired frenzy. He kissed your forehead, and your nose, and then planted kisses over each of your closed eyes and caused you to laugh gently. He helped you step back into your jeans and then redressed himself. You were still against the table when he took your face into his hands and he was passionately kissing you again, only stopping to rest his forehead against yours and gaze into the depths of your eyes.