Can We Try Something New? - Joseph Woll
Title: Can We Try Something New?
Author: Tory / @tkwrites
Relationship: Pre-established: Joseph Woll x girlfriend!reader
Summary: When Joseph finds your kindle at his house, he opens it not only to find it open to a sex scene from the romance novel you were reading, but discovers certain acts are underlined, he wonders if you might want something different. The ensuing conversation sets you on a path of discovery you never expected. Also, Joe learns to get you off with that pretty mouth of his.
Warnings: Smut (if you are under 18, please click away), unprotected p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), shower sex, fingering (f receiving), cum play, oral (f receiving), backshots, cockwarming if you squint
Word count: 8,400
Comments: Welcome to the finished product of week one of the 700 follower celly! You all chose Joseph Woll and the Inexperienced trope in last weeks polls. It was so much fun to write this fic! I had two days off this week, so I had quite a bit of time to dedicate to writing, and the idea got sort of grandiose as I kept going.
This is my first time writing for JoWoll, and also my first time writing a reader insert fic (it’s even in 2nd person!). I hope you enjoy! If you did, please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending in an ask. I love hearing what you have to say, and interaction with my work really does inspire me to keep writing!
Don’t forget to check back next week for week 2 of the celebration!
Can We Try Something New?
The thing about Joseph was that he was just so good.
Sweet and shy, attentive and adoring, Joe was outrageously smart, unknowingly charming and unabashedly in love with you.
Raised in a home where his parents not only loved each other, but both helped around the house, always trying to ease the others burden, he was set up to be a good partner from the very beginning.
It was this goodness that kept you holding on even though your sex life had become a bit boring.
Sure, the honeymoon phase was bound to wear off, and there was no way to stop the realities of life from setting in, but where, in past relationships knowing and becoming more comfortable with your partner meant a better sex life, your sex life with Joseph hadn't really changed at all, despite the fact that you’d been dating for just under a year.
It wasn't even that bad. He was attentive there too — always striving to make sure you got off every time, even on the occasions he came before you did.
But it was the same thing every time. He'd get you off with his long, thick fingers, then stop you from pulling him to completion with yours before having sex in missionary. Sometimes, the order of things was reversed, and he got you off again as you cuddled when he was too impatient to do it before. If the two of you were feeling really wild, you got to be on top.
Guilt for wishing things could be better was especially heavy each time you talked with your girlfriends, and they complained about the lackluster men they found on dating apps or in bars. They even asked if Joe had brothers. He did, of course, but Michael was in a different city. Not to mention the five year age gap.
Joseph was a unicorn. You knew that. And it was that fact that kept your mouth shut. Everything else was so good. And the sex certainly wasn't bad.
But even his certified unicorn status couldn't stop the thoughts that things could be better from popping up when your mind wandered.
Leaving the gym, those and other thoughts about your work in events and the clients who expected you to perform miracles, were chasing each other through your mind.
Snow was swirling in the street, catching in your hair and eyelashes. The wind whipped your ponytail into your face, and you jogged the rest of the way to the train.
Joe had texted after work, telling you he was ordering dinner and asking what you wanted to eat. You told him to pick whatever he wanted, too tired to make a decision.
Walking into his building was always a bit of a strange thing. The soaring entryway was so fancy, it looked almost like a hotel lobby. Complete with a giant burning fireplace, it was warm and inviting in a way your own building never would be.
The doorman nodded at you as he pulled the door shut behind you, blocking out the cold.
Slinging the weekend bag over your shoulder, you rode the elevator to Joe’s floor and keyed into his apartment.
“Hey.” Joseph's voice carried from the dining room.
You jumped. Of the many times you'd walked into his place, you’d never found him sitting at the formal dining room table. Most of the time, he was at the piano, softly plunking out a melody he'd heard that day, reading in one of the armchairs, or if it'd been a bad day, immersed in his latest Lego creation.
Once the shock of him being somewhere you hadn’t expected wore off, you returned his greeting while walking over to give him a hug.
He stood, wrapped you in his strong arms, and kissed the top of your head. “Can we talk?” he asked into your hair.
You stiffened immediately.
Great. Now, on top of being yelled at by a client because you couldn’t fix the fact that they had oversold their attendance without consulting you about their rooms capacity, Joe was going to break up with you.
He’d never asked to talk like that. Never formally. You talked all the time, but it rarely required permission. That had to mean something bad was about to happen.
“Um,” you said, stalling for time, “I was kind of hoping to take a shower.”
“Could it wait?” he asked, almost apologetically.
Gulping down the increased anxiety now knotting in your throat, you reasoned with yourself. He just wanted to talk. You could talk.
“Sure,” you said, managing to keep your voice steady.
He pulled away then and gestured to the seat at the head of the table, around the corner from his.
“I…uh…” he paused, obviously trying to find the right wording. Maybe he really was breaking up with you. The thought stabbed into your guts.
“I wanted to ask you if…” he trailed off again, and a blush crept up his neck.
“Joe, what’s going on?”
He pulled in a deep breath and sighed it out through his nose in one big huff. “I…” he paused, licked his lips.
The movement magnetized your gaze to his mouth. You loved his lips, loved the way he kissed you. It really was too bad he didn’t give oral because you were pretty certain he could blow your ex boyfriends feeble attempts at giving head out of the water with that mouth.
A bunch of words came out all in a rush, and you had to ask him to repeat himself. He did so, more slowly this time. “I found your kindle.”
“Oh, that’s great. I thought I left it on the train,” you said before relief and reality crashed together. Was this really cause for a serious talk?
“It was on my bedside table, and I thought it was mine, so I opened it.”
“Okay,” you said, still unsure what this conversation was about.
“It was um…” he swallowed, sending his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “It was open to a book.”
Wracking your brain, you tried to remember what you’d been reading the last time you’d stayed over. It’d been more than a week, and you’d listened to one and a half audio books since then. There were too many stories in your head to sort through.
“It was,” his face brightened with a blush. “It was open to a sex scene.”
All at once, it came crashing back. The romance novel. The way you’d paged back to re-read the sex scene because it was so, so hot. If you remembered right, you’d paged back to the beginning of it a third time, thinking you might want to re-read it after work.
Your eyes snapped to his, a blush of your own heating your face. “Oh,” you said, voice small.
“I wasn’t sure if…” he trailed off, then covered his face with his hands. Groaning, he asked, “God, why is this so hard to say?”
“What’s hard to say?” you asked, even more confused than before.
“I just…” he dropped his hands into his lap and looked at you. His eyes were so worried and nervous, they made you ache. You'd never seen him so anxious.
“Joe,” you said, reaching out to cup his jaw, “what’s wrong?”
A slightly pained expression flashed in his eyes. “Do you want to do those things?”
“What things?”
Shoulders slumping in defeat, he sighed hard again before asking, “from the sex scene? Some of it was underlined.”
“It was?” you asked, confused. You hardly ever underlined things on your Kindle unless it was a book you had to read for work. You didn’t exactly take notes in the books you read for pleasure.
He nodded, sliding the device to you. You hadn’t even noticed it on the table.
Flipping open the cover, the screen flashed black before blocks of text came into focus. Several underlined phrases jumped out at you.
…lapped at her as if he were savoring something decadent…his name panting from Anna’s mouth made him…tongue plunged inside her…“your fingers. Please use your fingers.”
Just reading those few phrases sparked heat between your thighs, reminded of the way Noah had absolutely devoured Anna with his mouth before fucking her in several different positions, none of them missionary. Man, this Maggie woman really knew how to write a sex scene.
Joe shifted uncomfortably, and you snapped back to the present.
“Kindle does this thing where it shows you when lots of people underline something. I’ve had entire pages underlined like this before,” you said, gesturing to the dotted lines. “I didn’t underline these.”
“Oh,” he said, disappointment flashing in his eyes.
That was new.
“Do you want to try them?”
His face flushed pink. “I mean, yeah. If you want to.”
“Really?”
He nodded, quick and sharp.
“You’d be okay with that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I like making you feel good.”
That, you knew, was true. There was hardly anything that got Joe going more than making you come undone. But it still didn't explain this sudden change of thought.
“We’ve…only ever done missionary,” you reminded slowly.
“We do cowgirl sometimes,” he defended.
You refrained from correcting that it wasn’t all that different. Cowgirl was the same position, just in reverse. Not exactly what you’d call variety. “Yeah, but you’ve never initiated or tried anything else.”
“I’ve never…” he coughed to clear his throat, color flooding his cheeks. “I’ve never done anything else.”
“Really?” Neither of you had had an enormous number of previous partners, but surely one of his past girlfriends would have wanted something different.
Shaking his head, he cleared his throat. “It never really came up?”
“None of your girlfriends ever asked you to change positions?”
“No?” he said, voice hesitant as if he wasn’t sure the answer was the correct one.
A pregnant pause infiltrated the space between you.
“I just want you to be satisfied,” he blurted. “And I kind of want to try new stuff, too,” he added on quietly.
“You do?”
“I just wasn’t really sure how to bring it up.”
“You know you can talk to me about anything.”
“I know,” he sighed, “It’s just that I… It’s embarrassing.”
“What’s embarrassing?”
“I don’t know,” he huffed, hands going up as if in surrender, “I feel like I should know all this.”
“All what? Everything about sex?”
He nodded.
“That seems like a bit of a stretch, even for you, Joe.”
Apparently, hearing it out loud got it to click in his brain how outrageous that thought was, and a laugh chuffed from him. “That’s fair.”
“I mean…” you began, then paused, wondering how to phrase this. “I could have asked for new things, too. It’s not all on you.”
“Do you want new things?”
“Yeah. I’ve been feeling that way for a while,” you admitted with a wince.
“Babe, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I felt kind of guilty,” you said, biting your lip.
“For what?” he demanded, incredulous.
“Everything else is so good, it felt kind of selfish. And it’s not like our sex life was bad.”
A sigh let go in Joe’s chest, softening his posture for the first time.
“I just want to do all the things with you.”
“All the things?” he asked, suggestively quirking his eyebrows. “What kinds of things?”
Now, it was your turn to blush. It felt kind of strange to be discussing this at the dining room table. Wasn’t this supposed to be a conversation you had in bed? “I want to try doggy with you.”
“Really?” he asked breathlessly, his blue eyes going round in surprise.
“Yeah, or like, mating press.”
“What is that?” he demanded.
The thought of it, of his big 6’ 4” body above yours in a new position, made your thighs sweat.
“It’s like missionary, but my ankles are on your shoulders,” you explained.
The moment the meaning of your words registered, his pupils blew wide, and he let out a breathy, “oh.”
“Is that something you’d be okay trying?”
“Yes!”
You giggled, marveling that this night was turning out so much better than anything you’d been anticipating.
He winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to be quite so loud.”
“What do you want to try?” you asked, letting his comment slide. Talking more about it would only embarrass him.
“I’ve always wanted to try doggy, too,” he said. “And I…I’d like to try oral.”
“I’ve given you oral.”
“No, like I want to try on you.”
“Really?” Now, more than just your thighs were sweating. “I thought maybe it grossed you out or something.”
He shrugged, “maybe when I was a teen, but I read that most women like it best.”
“They do.” At least that’s what all your friends said.
“Do you?”
“I’ve only ever had one guy go down, and he was kind of sloppy about it, so it wasn’t that great, but it seems like it could be really amazing. I’ve thought about you doing it a lot.”
“You have?”
“Yeah.” You nodded, eyes dropping to his plump lips, “I love your mouth.”
His throat bobbed. “I don’t really know what I’m doing, but if you tell me what to do, I can get better.”
You knew his coachability was something he prided himself on but never realized how great of an asset it could be in the bedroom. He was used to learning from constructive criticism and applying it. His pride wouldn't get in the way.
“I just want to try new things,” you said. “Find out what we like best or what feels good.”
“I like that,” he said. “We can just explore.”
“Exactly.”
Your eyes met, and the charged tension between you increased tenfold.
“Are you as turned on as I am?” he rasped.
“I think so.”
“So, bedroom?” he asked, eyes alight and hopeful.
You bit your lip, “could I shower first?”
“You want to shower just to get all sweaty again?” he asked, laughing.
“I don’t feel very sexy,” you said, looking down at your athletic wear. It was a matching set that at the beginning of the week looked incredibly cute. Now it smelled exactly like you’d sweat buckets in it three times.
“I think you look immensely sexy.”
“I smell,” you tried again, even though his compliment had you smiling, “and shouldn’t we eat something? Did you order?”
There was no way you were letting him go down on you when you were this gross. That was setting everyone up for failure.
“I got kind of distracted,” he said, nodding at the kindle.
“So why don’t we order dinner, I’ll go take a shower while it’s being delivered, and then we can play after we eat.”
“Could I come with you?”
You raised your eyebrows.
“In the shower?”
You’d showered together before, usually after sex when you both needed to clean off, but the heavy insinuation in his voice meant he was suggesting something totally different.
“Okay,” you agreed, wondering what, exactly, he had in mind.
After ordering from your favorite place, you made your way to his opulent, white en suite bathroom.
For some reason, you felt more vulnerable undressing in front of him this time. He’d seen you naked countless times, but never after a heavy conversation like that one.
“Gosh you’re pretty,” he said as you wrestled your sports bra over your head.
It struck you as the absolute least pretty part of getting out of this outfit, making you laugh.
“You are,” he defended as if you'd insulted his pride.
Once the tight undergarment was on the floor, you turned to face him, cupping his jaw in both of your hands. “Thank you, baby. You always make me feel pretty.”
He smiled so big, his eyes crinkled closed.
Leaning down, he slid his lips over yours. It was an instant reminder of where he wanted to put that lovely mouth of his, making you moan.
That seemed to break something open within him.
His hands wormed into your leggings, shoving them down. You had to break away to peel them off, and when you stood straight, found him out of his shirt with his jeans undone.
You tugged them over his thick thighs until they pooled on the ground.
Turning to flip on the water, he crowded up behind you, dipping his mouth to your neck.
An appreciative, “hmmm,” fell from your lips, and you pressed your hips back against him.
His answering grunt muffled into your neck, tickling the sensitive skin there.
Once the water was warm, you walked under the fancy rainfall shower head.
Pressing you against the cool white tile on the other side of the shower, Joe’s mouth slanted over yours, devouring you as if you were a double scoop of his favorite cookie dough ice cream.
Scrambling for purchase, your hands clung to the backs of his arms.
When he finally broke away, Joseph gasped, head hanging forward as his chest expanded with each deep breath.
“I’ve thought about fucking you in here so many times,” he said, lifting his head so your gazes collided.
Shock widened your eyes. Having never really discussed sex before, his confession had you feeling as dizzy as his kissing.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d want it,” he said sheepishly.
“You should have at least asked,” you said, playfully shoving his shoulder.
“So you…” he trailed off, a hopeful tilt to his mouth.
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yeah. Fuck me in this shower, Joey,” you purred, looking up at him with your best bedroom eyes.
“Holy shit.”
“How should we do this?”
“Uh...”
“Against the wall? Or I could…” you turned in his arms, braced your hands on the tile, and popped your ass out.
“Oh my god.”
When his hands didn’t caress over your hips like you expected, you turned back around. “How did you imagine it?”
That seemed to do it, and his hands grasped your waist. “Lifting you up and pressing you against the wall.”
“Oh.” Your height difference was enough that he likely would have to lift you if you wanted to be face to face, but the thought of him holding you for so long made you more than a little self conscious.
“What?”
“I just…” you huffed, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Why would you hurt me?”
“Because I’m…” you gestured at your stomach and hips.
“You’re right. You are so pretty it hurts sometimes.”
Even as you scoffed at his cheese, you still found yourself smiling. “I don’t want you to pull a muscle or something.”
Understanding flashed in his eyes. As he leaned down to bring his mouth to your ear, his hands slid over your hips to cradle your bum. His voice was a raspy whisper as he said, “I deadlift more than you weigh every day, sweetheart. I promise I’m strong enough to hold you.”
Well, that was outrageously hot.
“O-okay,” you stammered.
His arms flexed as he lifted, pinning you between his thick body and the wall.
Sucking in a breath at the cold tile now pressing into your back, your hands grasped his shoulders.
You felt solidly secure, and it felt like he wasn’t even trying.
His hips rocked, but his hard cock was trapped between your bodies, the head nowhere near your entrance.
He let out a frustrated huff and adjusted, but you still weren't lining up.
“I think you need to lift me higher,” you said.
“I don’t… how…?” he grunted.
Unable to stop it, a giggle fell from your mouth.
Thankfully, Joe started laughing, too. “This was so much easier in my head,” he confessed, forehead dropping to your shoulder.
“We’ll get it,” you assured, running your fingers through his hair. “It’s our first time. We just need to find the right position.”
He took a deep breath, presumably to stop his laughing. “How do you think I should…?”
“I think you’re going to have to lift me up and then lower me onto your cock.”
Licking his lips, he nodded. As he lifted, you pushed on his shoulders, trying to help get yourself into position.
“Can you…” he trailed off, glancing down.
Slipping a hand between your bodies, your fingers surrounded his shaft to guide him until the thick head of his cock was teasing your entrance.
The sigh of pleasure you let out mingled with his as he lowered you carefully until he was seated to the hilt.
Tipping your head back to the tile, you moaned, “feels so good.”
Nodding, a soft whine escaped his lips.
“You can move,” you encouraged, trying your best to rock your hips.
Breath puffing from his lungs, he started to do just that, soon finding a rhythm that had you both moaning.
“I don't know how to get you off this way.”
Keeping your eyes trained on his, your hand snuck between your bodies, searching for your clit. When you made contact and felt your walls spasm around him, Joe’s eyelids grew heavy and his lashes fluttered.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned, thrusting a little harder.
Continuing on, you pressed more firmly, moaning as pleasure pooled in your belly.
As your orgasm built, pushed higher and higher by your fingers, and with each of Joe's increasingly eager thrusts, he dropped his forehead to your shoulder. “Baby, you've gotta stop.”
“Why?” you asked innocently, your fingers still circling the sensitive bundle.
“Gonna make me come.”
“Isn't that the point?” you teased.
His heavy, panted breaths rushed over your chest, tightening your nipples. Each time he moved, the sensitive peaks brushed his chest, sending even more pleasure curling in your belly.
“Not until — fuck — not gonna last with you squeezing me so good.”
“That's okay.”
And honestly, it was. You knew Joe would never let you leave this shower without getting you off. Plus, the idea of making him fall apart, of stripping away that controlled exterior until he had no choice but to seek his own pleasure at your hand, gave you such a head rush, you couldn't stop wanting it.
Something like a whimper came from his mouth as he shook his head.
Carding your fingers through his hair, you assured, “I mean it. I love when you come for me.”
His only response was more trembling stillness.
“You think I don't think about getting you off?”
His head snapped up, those big blue eyes round with shock. “What?” he croaked.
Eyelids heavy with lust, you confessed, “sometimes, when you’re on the road, I get myself off thinking about you falling apart in my arms.”
“I —” His eyes were so full of surprise, love, and adoration, you wished you had a camera so you could capture it forever. “Really?”
“I like making you feel good, too,” you said, hand cradling his jaw. “You deserve to feel pleasure just as much as I do.”
A desperate, pained noise wrenched from his mouth.
“Come for me, Joey.”
As if your command burst some sort of dam in him, his hips were suddenly pistoning into you, and his mouth was running, “you feel so good. So fucking good for me.”
“Only for you,” you agreed, knowing it would drive him even more wild.
His jaw dropped open, and his head dropped back, and your name dropped from his mouth again and again.
“That’s it. Just like that,” you murmured, marveling that his grip was sure and true. You weren't going anywhere until he decided to put you down.
“Jesus fucking Christ! Shit!” he hissed. “Shit!”
Feeling his thrusts turn frantic, you slid your free hand into his hair and guided his mouth back to yours.
He kissed you ferociously. Sloppy and raw in a way you rarely felt from him.
It wasn’t until you felt him pulse and shoot off inside you, his release warm and satiating, that his kisses slowed to the loved up, dreamy rhythm you were used to.
Trembling from his release, Joe's hands tightened on your bum. Finally, he shuffled forward, breaking the kiss in favor of nuzzling your cheek as he pinned you up with his solid chest.
“That was…unbelievable,” he said after a minute or so.
A satisfied, Cheshire grin spread over your lips, and you scratched your nails over his scalp.
“Now you're going to make me drop you,” he joked, a satisfied hum behind his words.
Laughing, you stilled. “Better put me down then.”
He nodded, grunted, and took a step back, one eye wincing closed as he pulled out.
Unwinding a leg from around his waist, you searched for the ground with your toes as he lowered you.
“Good work, Woll,” you said, giving his biceps an appreciative squeeze.
“Not quite,” he said as one of his hands grasped your shoulder, spun you around, and pulled your back to his chest.
Your stomach muscles jumped as his other hand, broad and heavy, slid down your stomach.
“Still gotta get my girl off.”
“I can get behind that,” you hummed in agreement. Letting your head knock back into his shoulder, your legs spread.
His fingers dipped into your folds.
“God, I love your hands,” you moaned, hips tipping forward, asking for more.
He answered your call, pressing with more intent.
“You feel so good with my cum dripping out of you,” he whispered, his mouth brushing the shell of your ear.
You gasped. That was definitely new.
“Joseph Woll,” you teased, your fingers threading into the hair at the base of his skull. “Where did that filthy mouth come from?”
“Always been there,” he said, nuzzling, then biting your earlobe. “Just don’t say it out loud.”
“You should,” you moaned as his middle finger slipped inside you.
“I should, eh?” he asked, inserting another.
“Uh hu,” you whimpered. “Gets me so hot.”
As his lips pressed to the sensitive spot behind your ear, his fingers curled.
“Oh god,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”
“Keep making those noises for me, and I won’t.”
This was swiftly turning into the hottest night of your life. And the best part was, you knew it’d only just begun. One of your hands latched onto his forearm, nails digging into the ropy muscle. “Joe, oh my god,” you gasped.
“You gonna come for me, baby?” he murmured, dipping his lips to your neck.
“Yes, oh my god. Yes!”
The heel of his hand pressed to your clit, and you shot off like a rocket, inner walls clenching and fluttering around his thick, dexterous fingers.
Once all the tremors of your orgasm passed, you collapsed against him, pleasure buzzing in your veins. “Holy shit,” you breathed.
Easing his fingers out, he raised them in front of you, watching the mixture of your release shine and stretch between them as he moved.
Before he could stick his hand under the shower spray to rinse off, yours clasped his wrist.
A surprised moan wrenched from his chest as you guided his middle two fingers into your mouth, licking the evidence of your mingled pleasure from his skin. His dick twitched against your back, obviously very interested.
Turning to face him, you backed under the water as his fingers slipped from your lips, replaced by a vixen’s smile.
Frozen to the spot, he was watching, dumbfounded, as you tipped your head back into the spray.
Only when his phone buzzed against the counter, alerting you to the delivery of your dinner, did he glance away.
“I should…” he said, glancing back to you, then down at himself.
You both showered quickly — he left before you did to go grab your food from the lobby — and met at the dining room table to eat.
“Are you trying to kill me?” he asked, taking in the silky robe, the lace bra peeking through the lapels, as you sat down.
“Just keeping things simple,” you said, reaching for the container with your order scrawled on the lid.
“For who?” he wondered, eyes still glued to your chest. “And where were you hiding lingerie in my house?”
“I brought it with me.”
The way he stared at you, mouth slightly agape, like you were the gift he always wanted but never expected to actually receive, made pride bloom in your chest. “You shut out Dallas, so I had to.”
“You had to?” he repeated, sinking into a chair.
“Yeah. I buy a new set for you every time you shut out.”
“You…do?” You could see him thinking through his shutouts, mumbling to himself, “blue, then white.”
“Yep, and now green.”
“I didn’t…” he shook his head in disbelief. “They're for shutouts?”
“They deserve a celebration,” you said, bringing a fork full of pasta to your mouth.
Seemingly unable to do anything else, he just sat there, staring at you, an awed, proud smile on his face.
“Eat up,” you encouraged, pushing his container closer to him with your fork, “you’re gonna need your strength.”
His eyes widened for half a second before a laugh barked from his mouth.
Dinner was incredibly good. Italian (both of your favorite) followed by a shared slice of tiramisu because Joe was who he was and couldn’t leave a meal without something sweet. Not that you were complaining.
More than the food, though, it was filled with longing glances and lingering touches and promises of what was to come.
You didn’t shy away from watching as he licked the remnants of cream from his fork.
He licked his lips and sighed. “That was so good.”
“You say that every time.”
“And I mean it every time,” he said, quirking his eyebrows.
Shaking your head indulgently, you laughed.
“So now bedroom?” he asked hopefully after cleaning up the containers and dropping the forks into the dishwasher.
“Gotta brush our teeth. Then bedroom,” you agreed.
Brushing your teeth had never once felt like foreplay. But with Joe crowding into your space, his free hand slipping under the lapel of the robe to cradle your breast, thumb brushing your nipple until it was straining and sensitive, it certainly was now.
The moment you crossed the threshold into the bedroom, he swept you up in his arms and kissed you deeply.
Unwilling to wait any longer, your hands shoved his joggers down before tugging at his shirt, anxious to get him naked as soon as possible.
Breaking away to tear the shirt off, he gasped in a breath.
Hands pressed to his chest, you shoved until he landed on the bed like a felled tree. He was so beautiful, spread out for you, his cock already straining against the confines of his boxers. Vaguely you wondered if he'd been this hard through dinner.
“Now Joseph,” you said, hands drifting to the tie around your waist. “Since you did so good last week, I think you deserve a little something special.”
The flash of his tongue over his lips made your mouth start to water.
Slowly pulling the knot undone, you let the robe slip off your shoulders, then onto the floor.
“Oh my god,” he breathed, drinking you in with wide eyes, fingers curling into his duvet.
The green lace set was something you’d found a couple of months ago while wandering the Bloor-Yorkville district with some friends. You felt incredible in it — flirty and sexy and completely drool worthy. Bought on a whim, with your friends hyping you up (“Joseph’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in this!”) you'd been saving it for an occasion like this.
Making a show of stalking closer to him, your hips swayed. His breathing grew ragged as you crawled onto the bed and over him.
His reaction brought a cocky smile to your lips.
“I’m so proud of you, Joey,” you whispered, leaning down to brush your lips over his. It was a tease, a promise of something to come.
A whimper fell from his lips.
You took your time, kissing down his neck, then over his collar bones before your mouth wound down to his left nipple. As your tongue circled the nub, his head fell back against the pillows, a groan flying from his mouth.
“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” he reminded as your mouth found its way to his belly button.
“Hm?” you asked, not lifting your lips from his skin.
“I want to take care of you,” he gasped. “Wanna eat you out.”
It’s not that you’d forgotten about his wanting to try oral, it was more that you were building something else up in case he'd changed his mind.
Moving back up his body, you sat on his stomach, knees splayed on either side of him.
“Wanna taste you,” he panted, hands winding their way up your thighs.
“You do?”
“Thought about it so much,” he confessed, now gripping your waist. “Wanna make you feel good, make you fall apart with my mouth.”
“Okay,” you said, heart beating a heavy tattoo against your ribs. Like you could ever say no to that.
He grinned and maneuvered you until he was on top.
“Jesus,” he marveled, looking down at you, “you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
More turned on than perhaps you had ever been, you moaned his name.
Now that he was in the position to tease, he did. Kissing you languidly before trailing his lips down your neck as his hands found the clasp of your bra and snapped it open.
The reverence in his face as he gently pulled it from your body made your chest feel tight.
Once he’d removed your underwear and settled himself between your legs, he asked, “is there a way you want me to start?”
“I…” you faltered, not totally sure you knew the answer yourself. You knew what you wished your ex had done, but it was hard to explain without him doing it.
“I mean, it’s kind of like I’m making out with your pussy, right?” he asked.
Sometimes, Joseph’s innocence was the hottest thing about him. “Yeah,” you breathed.
Taking that as his guidance, he leaned in, pressing a few sweet kisses to your seam before gently parting it with his tongue. A whimper fell from your mouth as he licked through your folds.
Each lick was a question. How does this feel? Each kiss a study. Is this right?
The only answer you had was, not quite.
He glanced up to your face.
“I think if you suck when you pull back?” you offered.
His brow furrowed. “Like this?”
When he pulled back this time, there was suction, but not where you needed it.
You made an, “um,” noise.
He pulled back, lips pursing together in disappointment. “Can you show me?” he asked, tone doubtful.
Now, there was an idea. “I think that might work.”
He wiped his face with the back of his hand as he crawled back up your body.
When he kissed you, you realized why he was so confused. How could you make out with something that doesn’t kiss back? It was impossible to show him on his mouth when it responded so eagerly.
You pulled away, “hang on, let me try…” bringing your forearm to your mouth, you tried the movements currently looping in your mind.
“Oh,” he whispered.
Glancing up at him, you found him watching your mouth with rapt fascination, eyes and breath heavy with desire.
“Like this?” he asked, dipping to kiss your neck.
Moaning at the feel of his mouth doing part of what you wanted, your pink parts slicked with need.
“Use your tongue,” you panted, running a hand into his hair to keep him from pulling away. “Like this,” you said, reaching for his hand, which was clasping your rib cage.
Bringing his palm to your lips, he let out a hum of understanding as your open mouth connected, suction intensifying as you licked. As your lips formed a circle, your tongue flicked as the suction came to a peak.
“I think I get it,” he said, pushing himself onto his knees.
As he shuffled back down your body, you could practically see the gears working in his mind, which was always so sexy. Watching Joe figure out a problem was never a bad thing.
When his mouth connected with your center this time, it was instantly better.
“Oh,” you sighed as his mouth created a gentle vacuum and his tongue flickered over your clit.
You gave him a few moments to explore and hone his technique before breathlessly requesting, “more.”
“More?” he repeated.
“You’re being too soft.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’ll let you know if you need to stop.”
Nodding, that competitive determination that made him so good in the crease, settled into his features, and he dove in with a little more vigor.
This time, each lick and each kiss had pleasure curling in your stomach. “There.”
His tongue licked over your clit the same way it just had, sending a shiver up your spine.
“Yes, like that.”
He did it again before pulling back just enough to rasp, “keep telling me what you want.”
“Suck on my clit.”
When he leaned in this time, his lips connected closer down by your entrance.
Unable to stop it, you let out a disappointed whine.
Pulling away, he glanced up at you, then back down to your center. That studious, concentrated look took over his face again as he contemplated what to do.
“Up here,” you explained, sliding your fingers into your folds and circling the bundle of nerves at the top of your sex. “Suck here like you do with my nipples.”
Understanding cleared his features, and he lowered down again, flicking his tongue out before sealing his lips to your flesh.
Your hips jumped, seeking his mouth. “Yes,” you groaned. “Just like that. Feels so good, Joe.”
A pleased noise vibrated into you.
Continuing on, he tried with varying degrees of intensity, making you yelp when he sucked too hard.
He darted away.
“Too much,” you whimpered.
He glanced up to your face, “the one before was okay, though?”
The sight of the lower half of his face slicked with your arousal made speech nearly impossible. You nodded, a whining noise escaping your mouth.
A wicked smile curled his lips, and he dove back in.
Finally, it seemed, you’d lead him to the sweet spot and taught him the basics of what he needed to know. Now, his determination and strong drive to be the best could take over and build you up the way you knew he liked to.
Pleasure sparked in your core and caught fire, spreading into the rest of your body, which was finally vibrating with that intense euphoria your friends had always described when they talked about oral.
Back arching, you groaned your approval.
Seeking more connection, your hand found it’s way into his hair, fisting the dark blonde strands when his tongue flickered around and over the sensitive bundle, making the blaze burn even brighter.
He grunted loudly.
You immediately tried to pull back, but he caught your wrist. “S’okay,” he mumbled into you. “Hurts good.”
Well, in that case. You tugged his hair again as he lowered down to spear his tongue inside you.
“Your fingers,” you gasped. “Please use your fingers.” His tongue could be put to much better use in your opinion.
There was a brief moment of hesitation as he figured out his body placement, but soon you felt the two middle fingers on his left hand slipping into your entrance.
Hips shifting down, you let you a grunt.
As he eased them in, his magic tongue started to live up to its name.
“Joe,” you whined.
“Tell me what you want, baby.”
“Keep…” you panted, “oh fuck. Keep going.”
Dutifully, he continued on.
“Can you…”
His fingers curled into your spongy walls, stroking your pleasure even higher. You were fairly certain he was going to shatter into a million tiny pieces when he made you come.
“Hmm?” he asked into your folds, bringing you back to the task at hand.
“Can you slow down?”
A whine stole from your lips as his fingers did too. “Just your mouth,” you clarified. “Fingers fucking me so good.”
In tandem, his fingers stroked faster and harder as his mouth slowed to that languid, loved up pace you were so used to feeling in his kisses.
The contrast immediately had your body coiling tight, the change of pace had love seeping through every joint and muscle fiber, and his coachability, his attention to detail, had you proven right — he was about to blow your ex out of the water. You were pretty certain he was about to rocket you all the way to Saturn.
Your fingers curled in his hair.
His wanton moan was lost in your folds.
“Oh!” you cried, “I'm—” he sucked a little harder, and your words flew away. The spring coiled tight inside you was about to snap.
“I'm—fuck!—I'm coming!” you shouted as the bubble burst, forcing your hips up to his mouth.
He worked you through your high, teasing that sensitive pleasure spot inside you while his tongue lapped at the release you could hear squelching from your core with each steady thrust.
Groaning something incoherent, your spine arched off the mattress as another high slammed into the first.
Feeling your intimate muscles pulse and flutter around Joseph’s thick, beautiful fingers, you collapsed against the bed.
When he didn’t stop, you had to gently push him away.
“You’re so fucking sexy when you come,” he said, gently pulling his fingers from your core.
When you didn’t react, he asked, “you okay?”
“I think you killed me,” you panted.
Your eyes were closed, but from his laugh, you knew he had a giddy smile on his face.
“So I did okay?”
Now it was your turn to laugh. “I’ve never felt anything like that. You made me come so hard I couldn’t feel my face for a minute.”
A delighted laugh burst out of him as his weight shifted on the bed. You cracked one eye open in time to see him kneeling between your legs, raising his fingers to his mouth.
He made a satisfied noise as he pulled them out, clean of your orgasm.
“Thanks for helping me figure that out,” he said, crawling over you. His erection, heavy between his legs, was still confined in his boxers.
A breathless laugh chuffed from your lips. Who was this man who made you come harder than you ever had only to turn around, and thank you for showing him how to do it?
As he held himself above you, you reached up to wipe your juices from his face.
“Thanks for being willing to learn.”
“For you?” he winked. “Always.”
It was so cheesy, so incredibly cheesy. But you still found yourself grinning. “So what now?” you asked, quirking your eyebrows. “You wanna hit it from the back?”
“Hell yeah I do.”
“Get up then,” you said, pushing gently on his shoulders.
“Hang on,” he said, leaning down to capture your mouth with his own.
Making out with Joseph Woll was the first thing that made you love him. He was a good kisser, never rushing or trying to get to something else. He’d made love to you with his mouth long before he went down on you. Nearly every time you had sex ended with him kissing you in that languid, unhurried, loved-up way of his. You’d never met a man who made you feel so loved just by kissing.
Even now, when you both were so excited to explore something new, he was taking the time to re-cement your connection.
When he finally pulled away, you felt melted into the mattress in a different way than from the intense pleasure he’d just licked from you. This was safety. Mutual love and adoration like you’d never felt before.
“I love you,” you said, looking up into his eyes.
That big genuine smile of his took over his whole face. “I love you, too,” he said, brushing a few strands of hair from your cheek with the backs of his fingers.
Pushing up on your elbows, you kissed him again, trying to convey your own love and passion. As you lay back to the bed, your hands threaded into his hair, tugging gently.
He moaned into your mouth.
“Do you like it when I pull your hair?” you asked.
Eyes still closed, he nodded.
“Noted,” you said, giving it a heartier tug.
He laughed.
“Alright,” you said, reaching down to cup him in his boxers. They were damp with pre-come. You wondered if he’d been grinding against the bed while getting you off. The thought of it made your skin burn. “I think this needs to be taken care of.”
He gulped and nodded, eyes drifting closed again. “Please.”
“Well, you have to move so I can get up.”
He rolled to the side, watching with hooded eyes as you rolled over and pushed yourself up onto hands and knees.
“Do you want it this way?” you asked, rocking back and forth a little.
“Is there another?”
“I mean, you could bend me over the bed.”
Eyes growing heavy with lust, he licked his lips.
“So we should do that,” you surmised.
“I don’t…”
You stopped your crawling to the edge, looking over your shoulder at him.
He threw his head back into the pillow with a groan, “you look so fucking sexy like that.”
“Like what?” you teased. “On my knees for you?”
Another groan left his mouth, and he shoved his boxers off and pushed himself onto his knees. The bed dipped and shook as he crawled over to you.
“How about,” he said, folding himself over you, “I bend you over the bed next time, and I fuck you like this right now?”
Humming your agreement, you rocked back into him, feeling his ridged length press against your ass.
Letting out a soft hiss, he pushed himself back to kneeling. “You’ll tell me if you don’t like something?” he asked.
“Uh hu,” you moaned, feeling the head of his cock trace through your center before coming to rest at your entrance.
His hands slid onto your hips, and you felt him exploring — groping and kneading. “God, I've been thinking about loving you like this since we met,” he confessed, voice raw.
“Me too,” you agreed.
In past relationships, doggy had always meant fucking. It wasn’t until this moment with Joe that you realized it could be loving, too. Where just a few seconds ago, this had been a pursuit solely about pleasure, now you were on a journey of discovery with him.
“That’s okay?” he asked, easing into you.
“Uh hu,” you said, head dropping forward.
The first few thrusts weren’t rough, but he wasn’t too soft either.
“I love seeing your face,” he said, his left hand caressing your hip, “but this is a very nice view, too.”
A laugh burst out of you. “How romantic, Joe,” you teased, glancing over your shoulder.
“I’m just saying,” he defended, moving a little faster, a little harder. “How do you like it?”
“Faster,” you said, rocking back to meet his thrusts, “and once you find my g spot, harder.”
He nodded.
“How do you like it?”
“Feels amazing,” he groaned, fingers digging into your hips.
“What do you want?”
“Wanna feel you come on my cock like this.”
Taking a calming breath, you tilted your hips, trying to help him find the spot that would make you fall apart. “There.” Your voice fluttered the same way your muscles did when he stroked over it.
“Here?” he confirmed, snapping his hips with more force.
“Yes,” you moaned, feeling heat furl up your spine. “Keep going.”
A minute or so went by, your orgasm building steadily, Joe grunting and groaning behind you.
He made a strained noise. “Fuck, you’re so perfect. Gotta get you off faster,” he keened, voice pulled tight.
“Touch me,” you encouraged, matching him thrust for thrust, trying to build your high before he did.
His left hand slid around your hip, fingers dipping into your folds to stroke in tandem with his thrusts.
“Yes, Joe,” you moaned. “Oh my god.”
He swore. “You feel so fucking good. Can’t believe I waited so long to tell you.”
“I’m sorry I did, too.”
When at last the bubble of your orgasm burst, you collapsed to your forearms with a shout. Had he not been grasping your hips, you were certain you would have melted into the mattress completely.
“Oh fuck,” Joe moaned as your core pulsed around him. His fingers dug into your flesh so hard, you wondered if you might find bruises in the morning.
Hips bucking wildly as he sought his own pleasure, he cried out, “Fuck! Fuck!”
You moaned in satisfaction as he flooded you with his release.
Once he was spent, his body draped over yours, his breath heavy in your ear and his chest pressing into your back as he tried to catch his breath.
“Can we spoon?” you asked, feeling more than a little squished by his big body. “I can’t really breathe like this.”
“Yeah,” he grunted. Keeping his hips tight to yours and wrapping an arm around your middle, he flopped to the side.
A giggle squealed from your mouth as you ended up sprawled on his chest instead.
“Sorry,” he huffed, managing to roll you both onto your sides, “sorry. I’ve never done that before.”
“It’s fine,” you assured, still smiling as you ran your nails up and down his forearm. “We made it in the end.”
Nuzzling his nose behind your ear, he tightened his grip. “That was amazing.”
“It really was,” you sighed.
“I love you.”
Twisting to see his face, you responded, “I love you, too.”
His lips brushed yours. When your post sex make out was done, you went back to being the little spoon, letting yourself be held by him.
“So,” he said, tucking his nose into your hair, “what should we try tomorrow?”
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