Stepdad!Toji made it his personal mission to look after you ever since your mother left to play house with some guy she met at the gym.
Mom had been gone less than two weeks when Stepdad!Toji started to leave little notes in your lunchbox—dumb stuff, like “Don’t forget your vitamins!” or “Proud of you, brat.”
He started waking up at ass o’clock to make you breakfast, and you never even got to the stairs anymore before he was there, plucking you up like a misbehaving kitten and carting you off to the kitchen table.
Sometimes you felt like a dog, or maybe a princess in one of those cartoons where the king has only one daughter and is so obsessed with keeping her safe that she’s not even allowed to cut her own meat.
Stepdad!Toji who’d only been in the family three years, but acted like he’d raised you from birth. The first week Mom was gone, he asked for a key to your diary “in case you go full Wednesday Addams on me, kid.”
By the second week, he’d basically hotwired your entire routine. Morning protein shakes, checked your homework, drove you everywhere (“the bus is full of future criminals,” Toji grunted), and made sure you’d never have to walk home alone like one of those dumbass missing kids on the true crime shows he watched after midnight.
Stepdad!Toji who just could not keep his hands to himself.
At first, it was regular parent stuff—a heavy hand ruffling your hair, a pat-pat on your shoulder, his huge knuckle rapping you on the head when you said something dumb.
But then it became a hand at your lower back guiding you up the stairs, a palm on your thigh when he handed you the TV remote, and—at least once a day—a playful but unmistakably hard slap to the ass if you walked too slow ahead of him.
You started to notice how he’d always be within arm’s reach, how his cologne stuck to your hoodie when he wrestled you into a headlock on the couch, how his shadow literally blocked out the sun if you sat at the kitchen table with your laptop. Your friends said you were lucky, but they didn’t see the way Stepdad!Toji’s gaze lingered just a second too long on your legs when you wore shorts, or how his eyes flicked to your lips when you sipped orange juice from a straw.
Stepdad!Toji who believed a man should provide. He made a game of carrying you—sometimes for no reason, like when you were just sitting in your room and he’d burst in, scoop you up and toss you over his shoulder like a rolled-up rug.
You’d laugh and kick, but he wouldn’t put you down until he’d marched all the way to the living room or, if he was in a weird mood, dumped you on his own unmade bed and dared you to “try and escape.” Sometimes, after track practice, he’d piggyback you up the stairs when your calves cramped, his grip uncomfortably tight around your knees.
You liked it. You didn’t say it, but you liked it.
Stepdad!Toji who made a ceremony out of period week.
He’d mark it on the kitchen calendar with a dumb red sticker (“for science!” he claimed), then treat it like a national holiday.
Heating pad, ice cream, movie marathons—you didn’t have to do chores, didn’t even have to get out of bed if you didn’t want to.
The best part was the massages. Stepdad!Toji would knock once, then walk in with a mug of cocoa and ask, “Where’s it hurt, princess?” You'd point to your shoulders, or sometimes your lower back, and he’d rub at the knots with huge, warm hands that smelled like peppermint gum and cigarette smoke.
If he caught you wincing, he’d pull you into his lap and massage your thighs too, which always left you dizzy and a little giggly by the time he finished. You called him a perv; he just grinned and said, “Better me than some loser at your school.”
Stepdad!Toji who always left the bathroom door open when he showered—“in case you set the house on fire,” he claimed—and didn’t bother with a towel on the way out.
The first few times, you freaked out and slammed your door, but then you started peeking.
Stepdad!Toji’s body was all muscle and scars; the heavy line of his jaw, the mean set of his eyes, even the faded tattoos made him look like a bouncer in an illegal nightclub.
You imagined all the stuff he’d done before he met Mom, the kind of fights he must’ve had, the way he probably broke people’s noses for fun. You wondered if anyone ever broke his heart, and if that was why he spoiled you.
Stepdad!Toji who didn’t bother to hide his affection, not even when Megumi was around. Megumi, his biological son, was two years older than you and never home, and when he was, he just grunted at the two of you and sulked in his room.
Once, when Toji thought you were asleep on the couch, you heard him tell Megumi, “She’s all I got left, so yeah, I’ll do whatever it takes.” Megumi called him a creep. You secretly agreed, but it made you feel safe.
Stepdad!Toji who bought you a necklace with your name on it, then made a show of clasping it around your neck while you were still in pajamas. You'd never worn jewelry before, but when he pressed the little pendant flat against your collarbone, his finger lingered, tracing the hollow at the base of your throat. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks, and he laughed—“Cute. No boys are getting near you while I’m alive.”
Stepdad!Toji who got weirdly gentle if you ever cried. When you failed your calculus test, he found you balled up in your closet and didn’t even ask what happened—just sat beside you, silent and patient, until you ran out of tears. Then he wiped your face with the hem of his shirt and held you so tight you could barely breathe, rocking you like you were a little kid again.
“You’re not allowed to be sad, baby,” he said. “Not while I’m here.”
Stepdad!Toji who always called you baby, or princess, or brat, or if you pissed him off, “little monster.”
You pretended to hate it, but there was something about the way he said it—so rough and fond at the same time—that made your stomach drop. You started to notice how he’d say it in a lower voice if you stood too close to him in the kitchen, or if you wore his old t-shirts and nothing else. You noticed that sometimes, when you argued back or tried to “sass” him, his eyes would go dark and his hands would clench like he was holding himself back.
Stepdad!Toji who always bought you stuff, but made you work for it. If you wanted a new hoodie, you had to sit on his lap for twenty minutes while he “interrogated” you about your friends. If you wanted pizza for dinner, you had to arm-wrestle him for it. If you wanted extra allowance, he’d set impossible chores like “clean my room” or “help me shave my chest.”
You complained, but secretly loved it when he wrestled you into submission and called you his “spoiled brat.” You liked the way he held your wrists, the heat of his skin, the hint of danger in every touch.
Stepdad!Toji who didn’t believe in boundaries, but made you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered.
When you got sick, he called off work and tucked you in bed, reading you dumb stories in his deep, slow voice until you fell asleep. When you came home late from a party, he didn’t yell—just pulled you into his chest and muttered, “Don’t scare me like that again, okay?” You promised you wouldn’t, even though you don’t really mean it.
Stepdad!Toji who made you feel safe, but also made you want things you didn’t have a name for. You started to notice how your heart sped up when he touched you, how your thighs pressed together when he brushed your hair out of your face, how you caught yourself looking at his hands and wondering what else they could do. You told yourself it was just hormones, or trauma, or maybe both, but the feeling never went away.
Stepdad!Toji who always told you that you were his, like it was a promise and a threat at the same time. When you and Stepdad!Toji watched movies on the couch, he’d pull you into the crook of his arm and hold you tight, whispering dumb commentary in your ear until you laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe.
When you baked cookies and messed up the recipe, he ate the entire tray anyway, then licked the batter off your fingers and called you a “dummy” with that crooked, dangerous smile.
Stepdad!Toji who made you wonder if maybe, just maybe, you weren’t the only one with a secret.
Sometimes you caught him staring at you in the mornings, eyes hooded and hungry, his jaw tight like he was biting back something mean. You wanted to know what he was thinking when he looked at you like that. You wanted to be the only thing on his mind.
Stepdad!Toji who never gave you a second of privacy, not even when you said you needed it. On a lazy Saturday with Megumi out at soccer, you found yourself on all fours, digging under the couch for the remote you dropped. You just about got your fingers on it when Stepdad!Toji’s shadow blotted out the sunlight, heavy and close behind you.
Stepdad!Toji who hovered a little too close, pretending to supervise. “You lose more stuff under this couch than the fucking Bermuda Triangle,” he grumbled, but his voice was way lower than usual.
When you craned your neck to snipe back, you caught the heat in his eyes as he looked you up and down—your ass in gym shorts, the sweaty strip of skin at the small of your back.
Stepdad!Toji who waited until you were really reaching, your cheek almost pressed to the floor, before dropping the remote just out of your reach and making you scramble for it again.
“C’mon, brat, you got T-Rex arms?” he taunted, but didn’t move to help. Instead, he made a big deal of groaning as he crouched behind you, knees spreading the sides of your hips, his presence gigantic and oppressive.
Stepdad!Toji who made a show of adjusting himself, the bulge in his sweats suddenly way more obvious than before. You pretended not to notice, face burning. “Keep your pants on, perv,” you muttered, swatting back at him.
Stepdad!Toji who did not, in fact, keep his pants on. By the time you surfaced, red-faced and holding the remote like a trophy, he’d hooked his thumbs under the elastic of his waistband and tugged it down enough to let his dick spring free.
And. It. Was. Huge.
You'd never seen it all the way out before—you'd caught glimpses in the laundry or shower, but never up close, never this hard. It was thick and heavy, the color of wet brick, and you stared, slack-jawed, as he wrapped his palm around the shaft and started stroking, slow and shameless.
Stepdad!Toji who grinned like he’d caught you cheating on a test. “You really gonna gawk like that?” he drawled, giving himself a few slow pumps. The tip was angry and red, shiny with precum. “You gonna help Daddy, or just stare with your mouth open?”
Stepdad!Toji who tapped the blunt tip of his cock against your chin, not hard but enough to make you flinch. You jerked back, eyes flicking from his dick to his face and back again, breath coming faster now. “You’re such a creep,” you hissed, but didn’t move away.
Stepdad!Toji who leaned in, his huge hand cradling the back of your skull. “Yeah? But you like it,” he said, voice so deep it made your bones rattle. He let the head of his cock smear a trail across your glossed lips, then pressed it to your mouth, testing you. “Open up, baby. Don’t make Daddy ask twice.”
Stepdad!Toji who had ruined you with his attention. You should’ve spat in his face, or bit him, but your lips parted automatically, tongue flicking out to taste the salty smear of him. He made a noise, almost a growl, and pushed forward until the head forced your jaw wider, the stretch overwhelming but weirdly hot.
Stepdad!Toji who gathered your hair into a loose ponytail, winding it around his fist like he was taking the reins on a misbehaving animal.
“That’s my girl,” he muttered, voice thick. “Knew you’d be good for Daddy.” He fed you more—another inch, then another—until you gagged a little and tried to pull back, but he just stroked your cheek with his free hand and said, “Shh, relax. Let me take care of you.”
Stepdad!Toji who treated you like you were something precious and breakable, but also like you were made just for him. He rocked his hips, not too rough, but enough to make you feel the heaviness, the obscene length of him crowding your mouth. Your eyes watered, spit dripping down your chin, and he moaned like he’d never felt anything better.
“Fuck, you look so pretty with your lips wrapped around Daddy’s cock,” he groaned. “You want more?”
Stepdad!Toji who didn’t wait for an answer. He eased himself deeper, slow but relentless, holding your hair tight to keep you from escaping. The salt and heat of him filled your mouth, your throat, made your head go dizzy. Every time you gagged, he pulled out a little, but not all the way—just enough to let you breathe, then right back in, making you take a little more each time.
Stepdad!Toji who kept his gaze locked on yours, his eyes dark and wild, every muscle in his body straining not to just slam all the way home. “That’s it, princess. You’re doing so fucking good. Daddy’s proud of you,” he panted, his cock twitching in your mouth.
Stepdad!Tojii who smeared precum across your lips, then thumbed it into the corners of your mouth, like he was painting you with it. “Look at you,” he said, “all drooly and messy for me. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” You tried to nod, and he laughed. “Bet you never wanna stop, huh?”
Stepdad!Toji who stroked your hair, gentle now, and pulled you off his cock with a wet pop. You gasped for air, lips swollen and glistening, chin shiny with spit. He wiped your face with his thumb, then cupped your jaw and tilted your head up. “You okay, brat?” he asked, and for a second, he almost looked worried.
Stepdad!Toji who relaxed when you grinned up at him, eyes bright and greedy. You licked your lips, tasting the salt and musk of him, and said, “You gonna let me finish or what?”
Stepdad!Toji who threw his head back and laughed, the sound rumbling out of his chest. “Fuck, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said, and then he was guiding your mouth back to his cock, holding you just the way he wanted, showing you exactly what Daddy needed.
Stepdad!Toji who held you so tight you couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe right, and that was exactly how he wanted you.
He fisted your hair in one hand, the other cupping the back of your head, guiding you up and down the length of him until your throat burned and your jaw ached. “That’s it,” he panted, hips rolling steady. “Take it all, princess. Show Daddy how hungry you are.”
Stepdad!Toji who watched, fascinated, as his cock bulged your cheeks and stretched your lips wide. You barely had time to adjust before he started pushing deeper, testing how far you could take him. Every time you choked or coughed, he groaned and stroked your hair, telling you that you were his “good girl” and “brave little slut.” You liked those words—liked how they made your skin prickle and your belly twist tight. You clung to his thighs, digging your nails in, trying to hold yourself steady as he fucked your mouth in slow, punishing strokes.
Stepdad!Toji who let out a low whistle when your lips finally met his fist, your nose buried in the coarse hair at the base of his cock. “Holy shit,” he said, voice gone shaky. “You’re a natural, baby.” He loosened his grip, and you almost collapsed back, sputtering and gasping for air, spit stringing between your chin and the tip of his dick. He laughed, wiped your face, and pulled your right back down, not letting you rest for more than a heartbeat.
Stepdad!Toji who could’ve spent all day watching you slobber and drool all over him, the messier the better. “You like Daddy’s cock that much?” he teased, bouncing you on the tip of his dick. “Never seen a girl so desperate for it. Gonna suck me dry, huh?” You moaned, the sound muffled and broken, but you nodded, tongue flicking out to lap at the salty smear on his head.
Stepdad!Toji who got so worked up he forgot to play nice. He started moving rougher, shoving your mouth down until your throat spasmed around him. You gagged, eyes streaming, but didn’t stop—didn’t even try to. The more he pushed, the more you wanted it, the more you needed to make him lose control. You opened wider, swallowing around him, letting your lips slide all the way down until your chin was flush against his balls.
Stepdad!Toji who watched your face turn pink, then red, his hand gentling when he realized you were getting light-headed. He pulled you off, cock glistening with spit and precum, and grinned when you gasped for air, eyes wild and greedy. “Fuck, I almost broke you,” he said, pride obvious in his voice. “You okay, brat?” You just blinked up at him, lips shiny and swollen, then dove right back in, eager to finish what you started.
Stepdad!Toji who realized his stepdaughter was a goddamn slut. Even when he tried to let you breathe, you stubbornly swallowed his dick down, taking more and more each time. Your tongue traced every vein, your lips formed a perfect seal, and when he finally lost it and pushed you down hard, you didn’t fight at all. You just moaned, eyes rolling back, happy as could be with your mouth stuffed full.
Stepdad!Toji who nearly came on the spot when he saw your face—nose pressed to his pubes, cheeks hollowed, drool pouring out of the corners of your mouth. He’d never seen anything so fucking hot, and he had to grab the edge of the counter to keep from blowing right then and there. “You’re fucking unreal,” he growled, voice breaking. “You were made for this, weren’t you?”
Stepdad!Toji who yanked you off at the last second, not wanting to ruin the surprise for later. His cock slapped wetly against your face, leaving shiny streaks down your cheek and neck. You coughed, wiped your mouth, then giggled, spit and precum dribbling onto your chest. He stared at you—his perfect, filthy girl—and felt his heart slam in his chest.
Stepdad!Toji who let you kneel there, a mess of drool and lust, while he caught his breath and tried to remember how to talk. “You want more?” he finally said, voice rough and shaking.
Stepdad!Toji who already knew the answer.
Stepdad!Toji who grabbed you by the ponytail, hauled you up off your knees, and dropped you into his lap like you weighed nothing. You squealed, giggling, still wiping spit from your lips, but he didn’t wait—just splayed your thighs over his, pushing your shorts aside until your soaked panties were all that separated you from him. “Can’t believe you’re this wet for me already,” he said, voice thick with pride. He pawed at you, fingers finding the sticky patch at the crotch and pressing hard enough to make your hips buck. “Fucking hell, baby. Daddy’s got you trained, huh?”
Stepdad!Toji who hooked his thumbs in your waistband and tore your shorts and panties off in one brutal motion, leaving you bare and shivery in his lap. He let his cock slap against your slit, rubbing the length up and down, painting you with precum until you were glossy and slick. “So fucking pretty,” he muttered, more to himself than you, and then he grabbed your ass and ground you down against his dick, teasing your clit with every roll of his hips.
Stepdad!Toji who didn’t wait for permission. He lined himself up, spit in his hand for good measure, and spread you open with his fingers. “Ready?” he asked, not really expecting an answer. Then he pushed in—just the tip at first, stretching you open, making you gasp and shudder. He watched your face, searching for pain or fear, but all he saw was hunger.
Stepdad!Toji who realized in that second that he didn’t know if you’d ever done this before. You were tight as hell, and every inch he fed you made you tremble and clutch his shoulders. He slowed down, cupped your cheek, and whispered, “You okay, princess?” When you bit your lip and nodded, he smiled—proud, smug, and a little in love. “That’s my girl. Take it slow, yeah? Let Daddy in.”
Stepdad!Toji who rocked you back and forth, easing his cock deeper by fractions, letting you get used to the stretch. You whined, buried your face in his neck, and dug your nails into his arms, but you didn’t tell him to stop. He kissed your temple, your cheek, your eyelids—gentle, almost sweet, even as he split you open. “You’re doing so good for me, baby,” he whispered. “Just a little more.”
Stepdad!Toji who almost lost it when he bottomed out, your cunt clamping down hard around him. He held you there, buried deep, savoring how small you felt in his lap, how completely you belonged to him. You whimpered, tears brimming in your eyes, so he wiped them away and kissed you hard, tongue pushing into your mouth like he owned it.
Stepdad!Toji who hated to see you cry, even if it was from something he did. “You okay?” he asked again, this time softer, like a secret. You nodded, but your whole body was shaking, your breath coming in desperate little sobs. He rubbed your back, kissed your neck, did everything he could to distract you from the ache. “Shh, shh, Daddy’s got you,” he crooned. “You’re safe with me, baby. Always.”
Stepdad!Toji who let you adjust, cradling you close, stroking your hair and whispering sweet nothings in your ear until you stopped shaking. He felt every little spasm, every clench of your cunt around his cock, and it drove him fucking wild, but he waited—let you be the one to move first. When you finally did, rocking your hips in tiny circles, he almost cried with relief. “That’s it,” he whispered, voice shaking. “You’re perfect. You’re fucking perfect.”
Stepdad!Toji who started slow, just rocking you gently, letting you ride him at your own pace. He guided your hips, hands huge and steady, but didn’t force anything. Every time you whimpered or cried out, he kissed you and told you how proud he was. “You’re making Daddy so happy,” he growled, biting at your ear. “Taking me so good, baby. Didn’t know you could be such a slut for me.”
Stepdad!Toji who never stopped touching you, stroking your thighs, your back, your hair. He wanted you to feel loved, even as he ruined you for anyone else. You clung to him, whimpering into his neck, but every minute you got bolder, grinding down harder, chasing the feeling that had your thighs trembling and your toes curling.
Stepdad!Toji who held your ass, squeezing and spreading you open as he bounced you on his cock. He fucked up into you, just a little at first, but then more as you started begging for it. “Please, Daddy,” you whined, tears forgotten, eyes wild and shining. “Harder, please—need it so bad—”
Stepdad!Toji who couldn’t say no to you, not ever. He grabbed your hips and slammed you down, bottoming out so hard the slap echoed off the walls. You screamed, clinging to him like a lifeline, and he felt your cunt spasm around his cock, milking him for everything he had.
Stepdad!Toji who smothered you in kisses, leaving a constellation of hickeys blooming down your neck and collarbone. He sucked and bit at your skin, lavishing you with attention every time you gasped or whimpered from the stretch of his cock inside you. “Shh, you’re okay, baby,” he whispered between kisses, his breath hot on your ear. “Daddy’s gonna make it feel so good.”
Stepdad!Toji who cradled you in his arms, holding you tight even as he fucked you open, but didn’t notice at first when you started to move on your own. The initial pain faded to a dull throb, and you rocked your hips in tiny circles, rolling your clit against the base of his dick until your moans turned desperate and hungry. You clung to him, nails digging crescents into his back, moving faster and bolder with every thrust.
Stepdad!Toji who suddenly realized he’d lost control. “Whoa,” he laughed, voice breathless. “Getting greedy, princess?” He tried to hold you still, but you just writhed harder, chasing your own pleasure. He groaned, fingers sinking into your hips, but it wasn’t enough—you were riding him like you owned him.
Stepdad!Toji who leaned back on the couch, knuckles white on the cushion as you bounced in his lap. Every slap of skin on skin sent a shock through his body, and he watched, mesmerized, as your tits jiggled with every bounce. “Look at you,” he growled, half in awe. “Didn’t know you had it in you, brat.”
Stepdad!Toji who let you use him, helpless and a little proud. He watched your face—eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a needy O—and felt his cock throb at the sight. “You want it rough, huh?” he taunted, but you just moaned, grinding down so hard he saw stars.
Stepdad!Toji who finally broke, grabbing your ass with both hands and fucking up into you with everything he had. You squealed, clinging to him for dear life, but then you lunged for his neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. He roared, head thrown back, as you left hickeys and scratches all down his shoulders.
Stepdad!Toji who had never, in his whole fucked-up life, wanted anyone as bad as he wanted you.
Stepdad!Toji who almost lost it when you leaned in, licking the sweat from his throat, your nails raking trails down his chest. “Mine,” you breathed, voice shaking. “You’re mine now, Daddy.”
Stepdad!Toji who was so deep in you, so lost in the feeling, that when you yanked his head down and crushed your mouths together, he lost it instantly. He groaned into the kiss, cock pulsing as he filled you up, hips jerking helplessly even as you kept grinding, milking every last drop from him. You moaned, the sound low and guttural, your own climax shuddering through your body in waves.
Stepdad!Toji who held you tight while you both came, your thighs locked around his waist, his arms wrapped like steel bands around your back. He kissed you like he was starving, like you were the only air in the room, and didn’t stop until your shaking slowed and you melted against him, boneless and blissed out.
Stepdad!Toji who didn’t pull out, not even when you finally slumped limp against his chest. Instead, he scooped you up—still full of his cum, his cock still buried deep—and carried you through the apartment to the bathroom. You giggled, weak and floaty, as he set you down on the edge of the tub.
Stepdad!Toji who ran the bath, warm and perfect, then settled behind you in the water, pulling your back to his chest. He washed your hair, massaged your scalp, kissed your shoulder with every rinse. “You’re such a mess, brat,” he teased, but his hands were soft, careful, reverent. He soaped you up, made sure every inch was clean, then pulled you onto his lap all over again, sliding his cock inside like it belonged there.
Stepdad!Toji who couldn’t get enough, not even after he’d already ruined you once. He fucked you in the tub, slow and lazy, water sloshing over the sides while you rode him in sleepy little thrusts. You whined every time his cock slipped out, so he held your hips steady, making sure you were always full, always his.
Stepdad!Toji who carried you to your room after, wrapped in a towel and nothing else. He dropped you on the bed, then bent you over the mattress, spreading you open and filling you up again, this time even deeper, even rougher. You screamed into the sheets, begging him not to stop, and he didn’t—not until they’d both come again, and again, and again.
Stepdad!Toji who finally let you rest, both of you collapsed in a tangle of limbs and sweat, his cum still leaking out of you and down your thighs. He pulled you close, tucked your head under his chin, and stroked your hair while your breathing slowed.
Stepdad!Toji who, just before you drifted off, whispered, “You’re mine forever, brat. Never letting you go.”
a/n; merry christmas eve to all the freaks out there, me especially
you and clark always decorated for christmas, it was one of clarks favorite things about the holidays. one of the things clark sets up every year is the mistletoe.
you know he does it just so he has an excuse to kiss you, and you find it endearing because he doesn’t need to use that as an excuse to kiss you.
he specifically placed it in the doorway of the kitchen, where the two of you walk under a lot. he stopped you every time, pointing up to it with a smile before cupping your jaw and kissing you.
which is what he did now, pointing up with that same dimpled smile, “look, guess we have to kiss now” he shrugged jokingly before grabbing the bottom of your jaw and pulling your face towards him so he could press his lips against yours.
you smiled against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stood on your tippy toes. his tongue slid against yours as you deepened the kiss, tugging your fingers through his hair.
you hum against his lips as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in so your flush against his chest. his hand trails to your ass, playfully grabbing at it as his other hand rests against your neck, not squeezing, just there.
you're threading your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss grows sloppier. you can hear the way he’s groaning into your mouth and the way your lips smack together.
“clark” you whisper between kisses, he can hear the way you're begging in your voice he knows what you need and exactly how to give it to you. he’s tucking his hand in your pants feeling the plush of your ass against his palm before his fingers push into your hip, then they find their way to your panties, dipping below the waistline.
his thumb rubs circles into your clit, pulling a string of moans from your mouth into his, which he swallows with a kiss. his thumb dips down to your slit, collecting slick before returning at your clit applying the perfect amount of pressure as he pleases you. “so wet” he coos, pecking at your jaw as he moves away from your lips.
your hands find their place at his shoulders to help keep you up, he’s only just started but you can already feel your knees shaking with pleasure. his middle finger drags down your slit, circling your entrance before slowly pushing in all while his thumb hasn’t left your clit. your moaning as your mouth opens to an ‘o’ shape, which is pressed into his shoulders to muffle your moans.
his fingers slowly move out to the last knuckle before pushing back to the base of his finger as it curls up hooking against your g-spot. you’re a whimpering mess against him, toes aching from standing on them as he tuts at how ruined you sound. he picks you up with one hand by the waist, walking you back onto the wall where your toes just barely graze the ground as they curl.
“clark” you mewl feeling a second finger slip in pumping at an unforgiving pace, curling to touch the top of your cunt as his thumb continues to rub on your clit pulling you closer and closer to the edge. he’s whispering sweet praises into your ear about how well you're doing for him and how good you feel on his fingers. you can’t even properly reply, all that leaves your mouth is whimpers and his name.
your nails begin to dig into the muscle of his shoulder, which flexes with each curl of his fingers, you’re sure your nails would draw blood if he wasn’t indestructible. your free hand pulls at his curls giving him the sign everything he’s doing is right. “fuck- fuck don’t stop, please” you warn, feeling that familiar knot in your stomach beginning to grow tighter.
“that’s it honey, you got it” he smiles, looking up to catch your lips against his, the kiss is rough, sloppy, and all tongue and you can’t help but whine against his lips as his fingers work you through your dangerously close orgasm. your eyes brows are pushed together, and your throat is sore from the moans that he’s pulled out of you all while the ache in your stomach grows pleasantly unbearable.
he doesn’t stop, even when you're fluttering around his fingers as your orgasm hits. he doesn’t pay mind to how your thighs shake around his palm as his fingers continue to work their way through each tremor, through each desperate moan of his name. you’re crying out, slurring how it’s too much, and he’s eating it up, smirking against your neck as he pecks at your jaw before pulling his fingers out of you slowly.
he kisses you before he’s placing his slick fingers at his lips before pushing them between his lips, his tongue swirling around them and you can see the way he physically sighs at the taste. “so sweet” he mumbles before kissing you again, still smiling against your lips. “better pack for my parents' house now. you okay sweetheart?” he says it casually, like he didn’t just ruin you against the wall with just his fingers, over a stupid mistletoe.
Being locked up inside of a stuffy closet wasn't particularly on your list of goals for the night, and yet here you were, barely illuminated by the soft seam of light daring to leak through the cracks of the door. The night air outside was still young and in bloom, voices leaking through the gap under the door with cheers and Holiday joy. You hear the cork to a bottle burst with a pop, a voice shrieking a happy cry as foam inevitably froths over the bottle, spattering to the hardwood floor of the Saloon.
Your own breath feels as if it echoes around you, bouncing off of the built-in shelves lining the closet, hitting you back in the face with a ring paired in your ears. Your back digs into the sharp plastic faux leaves of a holiday wreath, pulled out in the chaos of decorations brought from the very back end of the space, spewing from boxes, unworthy decorations strewn on shelves and wood panel floors - It was a miracle you hadn't shattered a glass bauble under your feet.
You shuffle, knees feeling wobbled and numb, breath punching out from the depths of your lungs, layering the small space in a sickly sweet warmth, hot and humid as if you were trapped in a sauna. Your fingers twirl into thick and dark tendrils of hair, wound into curls with a tight squeeze of your fingers, flexing every time the hard metallic lap of a pierced tongue grazes hot over your clothed clit. Despite the freeze beyond the front door of the Community Centre, the air inside of the closet was thicker than creamy hot chocolate, heated by the dancing bodies of the townsfolk celebrating the late-night festivities. That, and the spiked eggnog you had nursed through the night, settling under your diaphragm and rising up, a flush that kissed your cheeks, skin already bitten sensitive by the cool air on your walk there. And of course the man between your legs had a helping hand with it too - Lengthy fingers grabbing around the soft squish of your thighs, thumbs daring to dig just enough to have you squirming. Sebastian’s hands were slender and elegant, decorated with glinting rings and cracked nail polish, said nails digging loving crescents into the supple soft of your skin.
He had you sighing, swallowing down milky-thick saliva, your eyes catching his own, dark brows furrowed in focus as his lips latched with a smush against your mound, a breath heavy and hot on your cunt.
Now how exactly did you end up here anyway?
There was something of a Holiday Party occurring - A new tradition since the Community Centre had been cleaned up, spacious for the entirety of the town to attend, freely mingling and dancing away with a few pocket groups chatting on the sidelines. The more “Adult-Adults” - The Parents of many young people of the Valley - Congregated by the fire, letting the flicking warmth absorb into their skin, soothed from the chilling bite of the outside with their own fire burning up in their guts, born out of the little treat of alcohol they sipped at. Others mingled elsewhere, spread across the varying rooms, even the children ran and played in the crafts room, welcomed now that festivities didn't have to take place in the depths of the Saloon or the frosty outside of the Town Square.
You were with your usual gaggle of friends; Samson, Abigail and Sebastian, tucked away by the storage pantry, sat on crates and barrels filled to the brim with bits and bobs. You giggle airily at Sam and his usual antics, nursing your cup of eggnog while you shift on your makeshift box-seat, careful to avoid lodging a splinter in Yoba knows where. The vibe was cozy, wrapped in a glowy warm as you look between your friends, a buzz in your tummy leaving your head a little light, lips a tad looser than before.
Your eyes land on Sebastian, propped up on his own crate, chin tilted up high enough to reach the crack of an open window, blowing hot nicotine smoke from his lips into the brisk chill outside. He drags his cigarette hard, the end firing to life with a burn of hot orange, ashes flecking off of the edge before it dies away, smoke carried into his lungs to settle before he blows out once again. He was methodical, practiced in the movements as if he’d sneaked a puff of tobacco before, pierced tongue wetting over his lips, spit surely warm enough to battle the cold kiss of night air reddening his mouth with a blush.
You can’t help but watch him, eyes soft with puppy-love, attention easily slipping away from the present conversation. It was a known fact that you harboured a few feelings for the dark and mysterious man - To you and your other friends at least - Having Samson and Abigail on your back about just asking Sebastian on some sort of date, heck, they’d even offered to set the entire thing up! But there was something that nibbled at your subconscious, a whisper chanting doubts into your thoughts like an earworm, suck on repeat as if it were a bad but catchy song. They assured you, swore up and down that he totally felt the same! But you couldn't let yourself believe it, stuck in a loop of pitiful pining, drooling like a dog with its favourite treat just out of reach, dangled above your head like the sweetest forbidden fruit.
You're snapped out of your trance with a soft kick to your shin, Abigail’s boot tip connecting with the bone enough to jump a startle out of you. She was snickering, and so was Sam, eyebrows raised with a soft mocking cat call, ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ whistled slyly under their breaths lest the other man notice. You pout at them, hiding the expression behind another sip of spiked eggnog, eyes squinted enough to show off your unamusement and potential embarrassment.
The thick brandy-laced custard slides down your throat with a swallow, adding to the warmth flushing inside your tummy, aided with the bashful sear brought on by Sam’s continued pokes. The alcohol leaves a subtle burn on your tongue, a bubbling in your stomach, turning the sweet and giddy fizz of a crush into something thick and near nauseating. You smack your lips, letting them pout into a small frown, tongue poking past in a childish manner before you let yourself giggle again.
Abigail hops up, sauntering to Sebastian to bum a cigarette off of him, joining by the slight crack of the window on the other side of the room, out of earshot for the next few babbles Sam had for you.
“He looks good tonight, doesn’t he?” Samson ever the lightweight dares to slur your way, cheekily taunting at the crush he knew you harboured for the other man. At first it was all comforts and sweet reassurances, repeating the same lines over and over- Of course you're pretty, of course you're his type, he looks at you too you know? - Until it morphed into not-so-subtle teases and jabs, Sam and Abigail growing tired at the same song and dance of reassurances, opting to wiggle their eyebrows and wink with a coo every time they caught you even glancing at Sebastian. They cared still, obviously, soothed away at the sharp stabs of insecurity that wriggled it’s way past the wall of your inner thoughts and out to them, these days the comforts presented themselves in a sly glance and a knock on your back forcing you to bump into the dark-haired man.
It was true that he did look good tonight; Hoodie swapped for a fitted black button down, coat forgotten at the door with the swallow of warmth inside the building. Piercings all matched with a dark silver sheen with rings to pair on a few of his fingers, bracelets and necklaces tied everything together, sheening behind his unbuttoned collar and rolled up sleeves.
You always hung out with the man in a group, surrounded by the others as a social buffer. Of course you had settled down in Abigail's room many nights past, eating snacks and playing video games until the ranch rooster crowed and the sun kissed its way up and over the horizon. Heck, you'd even spend afternoons with Sam, walking him home from work and staying until dinner, brainstorming music and chatting general nothingness until his mother had politely asked you to head home.
But Sebastian was another story. How could you invade his sacred space for your own amusement? You could barely open the door to his home for his mother's services without biting your bottom lip and looking at each nail in the floorboards for a distraction, heart tingling at the idea of just seeing him in his natural habitat. A group meant safety, in numbers and outlets, avenues to sprint down in case of an emergency - The emergency being your hopeless and stumbly feelings for him.
Of course you talked to him, chatting away at your interests and his alike, walking drinks from the bar to the pool table with your eyes locked all doe on his face. You had a fair amount in common as well, but that darn bubble in your stomach often kept your feet glued to one spot, a half smile directed towards him in acknowledgement to whatever he would say.
– “You reckon that ring’s new? Looks kinda new…” Sam continues, pondering his astute observation, prying his way past the protective wall you had meticulously crafted surrounding your social body, urging for a comment.
“Maybe..” Your reply is short, safely guarded behind the fear of alcohol loosening your tongue. Sam hums, tilting his head, not at all hiding the fact that he was analysing the man by the window, smoking his way through a conversation, puffs of thick nicotine coming with the replies he had for Abigail before he sticks his head out of the window to blow again. You try not to stare, missing the way Abigail points your way, beaded bracelets on her wrist giving a clacking jingle, her own teasing comments falling off of her tongue with a steady drip of amusement.
“Should ask him.” Sam’s voice chirps again. Subtle teases, as always, trying to push the pair of you together like a girl does with her dolls, announcing the prophet of “Now Kiss!” while smushing their plastic faces together. It had happened once; Sam convinced you to go against him at the pool table, clumsily cracking the triangle of billiard balls with his pool cue, unmanaging to sink either solids or stripes. You admitted you hadn't a clue about how to play, and you were sure you were off the hook until the sunshine boy beams that cheeky, toothy smile at you.
“Sebastian will help!” he had exclaimed, failing to hide his grin when the raven-haired man shrugged and stood from the worn-out Saloon armchair he had been resting in. Though a little initially shy, Sebastian was one to open up with a little push.
That night was something of a struggle. Feeling the warmth of Sebastian's chest laying over your back, lengthy, nimble fingers drowning your own as he guided the pool cue, digits wrapping around the thrumming artery that pulsed in your wrist with a squeeze, just enough to have your head reeling. Click and clack went the sheeny resin balls, sinking into the holes of the pool table with an easy thrust of the cue thanks to Sebastian’s assistance, practically babying you through the process. His cologne stuck to you that night, soft and spicy and barely a hint of sweetness, bled into the threads of your top- Yoba, you’d never properly admit it but you didn’t wash the poor thing for far too long, not until the thick stain had properly lost its essence. The imprint of his body was something unforgettable, towering over your back, chin tucked by your ear, breaths slow and careful, full of focus as he whispered instructions with every turn, guiding your body as if you were his puppet.
Ever since, it seemed to be Samson’s mischievous mission to pin the two of you together.
There were countless attempts only ending in hot embarrassment, the need to recreate a one off moment only becoming a tangled mess with its execution, like a failed flash mob two counts out of time. But you couldn’t be mad at Sam, in the end he was only trying (and mostly failing) to be your wingman. You squint at him, watching the blonde obnoxiously play with the bar lodged in his tongue, leaned back upon a box from his spot on the floor, eyes fuzzed out of focus in deep thought. Well, as deep as Samson could manage with the clear wash of tipsiness leaking from his body language. He huffs a sigh and chuckles, a goofy, lopsided grin leaning your way before it's hidden by his own sip of his drink, his pierced eyebrow raising as if to dismiss the curious thoughts you had swirling around behind your forehead.
Sam hops up, a sway in his movement, humming under his breath as he explores a nearby storage closet, spewing out Christmas decor used to add Holiday Charm around the rooms. Ever so nonchalant. He rifles loudly, snickering to himself when he finds a dusty Santa hat, putting the wretched thing over his mane of hair before he continues on. The other pair make their way back over, the window now fully shut, locking in the warmth of the Community Centre, any remnants of the bristly chill snuffed out with a warm wash. Sam’s antics were loud, hands roughly exploring the space, pulling things out that surely shouldn’t be touched - At least not by him of all people. Sebastian and Abigail sit either side of you, the male opting to share a corner of the wooden pallet crate you had situated yourself on, very nearly pressing his bicep into your own as he watches Sam.
“Duuuude..” The blonde calls with a hiccuped laugh, practically jumping into a box to nab at something. Sebastian tilts his head, an amused quirk of a smile plastered on his pierced lips, the point of a double vertical labret (Not snakebites as Sam always annoyingly calls them) lifting with the action.
“That can’t be good.” Sebastian’s voice cracks soft, tone low enough for only you to hear, like a hidden inside joke. Of course, you giggle, top teeth sinking into your bottom lip to stifle the noise, your brain letting you laugh so effortlessly, as if you were a crushing school girl - Yoba it felt silly, and yet your body strives to work against you.
“I’m scared..” You mock a wobbly tone, a fake frown on your face which easily turns upwards as Sam yelps, coming up with his lucky-dip mystery prize he’d yanked up from the box.
“Ooho..” The blonde calls, lifting up the very thing he had practically dived for; A stringy and sad looking worn-out piece of plastic mistletoe, decorated with a gnarly bright red ribbon in the beginnings of the end of its life, fraying right at the edges in wispy fabric feathers. His grin turns shit-eating, eyes darkening in your direction, dangling the sad plastic plant as if it were poison ivy, ready to rash anything it touched. “Ohh, Sebby-Webs~” He teases, making a wet, spit-filled kissy face at the other man.
Sebastian rolls his eyes with a huff, pulling out his lighter and flicking the flame to life with a hearty click, a silent threat against the very existence of the sad excuse of mistletoe. Sam makes a show of pouting, sniffling faux snot up his nose in defeat before his attentions turn to you.
“He’s so mean, right?” He keeps up his pout, fake tears in his eyes. “You’ll smooch me, right?” He looked like a kicked puppy, bottom lip wobbling as he neared you, holding the plastic piece above your head. He looks to Sebastian, a glint in his eyes and a near smirk daring to twitch on his lip, stirring the pot, so to say. You fake a gag, looking to Sebastian to spout a joke but the man looked.. Well, tense. Brow furrowed just enough, body stiff in his spot beside you compared to the lucid and wobbled movements of Sam. “Just oneeee~” The blonde begs, teasing at you, making another puckered kissy face as he dramatically leans in.
Another one of his forced proximity plans perhaps-
A lean hand smushes into Sam’s lips, ring clad fingers squishing his cheeks, firmly but gently shaking his head. Oh, it was on now. A roughhousing play fight between the two men, giggles and fake insults, Sam and his mistletoe with pucker kissing noises now directed back to Sebastian. “Kiss meeee, kiss me- You know you want to~” Sam would sing, only to be refuted by Sebastian calling him some sort of choice word. You and Abigail can only look to one another, a stifled smile as the boys go at each other- Until an unhealthy crashing tumble occurs.
Sebastian yelps a swear, falling back on a box within the closet space, saved by the crinkle of tinsel rather than any sharp and nasty decorations. You don’t think, jumping to your feet, eggnog forgotten as you spring to help him.
“Seb-! Are you alright?” You reach him, lending your arm for him to use you as leverage, doing your best to pull him free. You get him up and standing, faced with his collarbones with his height compared to your own, closer than you initially had thought you'd be, the space tighter than it seemed with all the storage boxes-
A chuckle comes from the door, Sam with a teeth-filled and lopsided grin, one hand on the frame and the other tossing the sad little plastic mistletoe right at you before the door comes to a hearty, thunking close. Boisterous laughter is muffled, taunts of “Behaving” going nearly unheard as crates scrape against the hardwood floors, only logically being pressed against the door, successfully locking yourself and Sebastian inside of the tiny storage closet.
This felt juvenile, as if you were thrown into a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven, the door un-opening as you try your best to push - No luck.
A hand rests snugly on your waist as Sebastian leans over, trying his luck at pushing the door to get it moving along its hinges, palm and fingers spread flat over the wood. It's a futile attempt. He chokes around a pant as he tries again, breath straining with a soft whine right at the back of his throat with his pushing, forming into a weak and disheartened groan of a sigh when he fails again. He swallows, breathing huffed, squared to catch himself before he braces to try again.
“Seb-” Your voice calls with a crack, your hand daring to reach for his bicep, giving him a soft squeeze, heavy with your touch thanks to the soft swirl of alcohol in your stomach. “Hey..” You try again before he relents, face snapping to yours in the dimmed-down closet, barely illuminated by the crack under the door. His breaths huff against your lips, hot and laced with tobacco and a wash of mint in a feeble attempt to mask the smell. He had managed to work up a small sweat with his attempts, smoker lungs surely fiery behind his ribs, puffs coming to an easy slow, air still coming from past his lips, brushing into yours like a faux kiss.
His hand on your waist doesn't move, plastered stuck right in place before the other joins, holding you right there - Closer than arm's length. You hear him swallow, see the bare brush of his tongue swiping over his lips, wetting them with saliva, piercings glinting with the bare shine of light. “Fuck..” Comes his voice, barely above a whisper, more rounded with the shape of his mouth and that harsh digraph sound nestled at the back of his throat.
It's quiet - So, so quiet. Save for the shake of your breaths, coming into a rhythm, forced into tandem as you try to make out Sebastian’s face in the dim. Your pulse thrums in your ears, thumping like a ball in your throat, gushing red-hot anxious blood to your head, already washy and tipsy drunk off of that damned eggnog- The air between you seared, hot tension rising as you come to terms with exactly what just happened, a heavy weight of mortification washing down your shoulders and to your toes, curdling the contents of your stomach into something bubbly-sick. It was as if a kettlebell fell down on your head right as you’d jumped down from high up, a spiking shock running up your legs and down your shoulders, meeting up in the middle. Your hand moves to come off of his bicep, the squeeze of your fingers off from his flesh-
One slender hand moves up, cupping at your ribs as if to stop you, accompanied by a short and startled disapproving hum, rumbled from Sebastian’s throat. You stare at him, he stares back, eyes searching left, right, left, right, flicking and unknowing of where exactly to look- Until he sighs, air punched from his gut before his head drops, carefully landing on your shoulder, face turned into your neck. His piercings barely press a graze to your sensitive skin, poking dully on your pulse, scraping as he speaks right under your ear.
“Sorry.. C-Can..” Your body sparks a shiver. “Can I..?” He asks, such an open-ended question had your brain searching all the ‘what ifs’. You mouth his name with a whisper, a questioning tone pitched up before he hums a long sound from his chest. “I can’t take it anymore- Really.. Fuck- Can I just..” He huffs another breath, a thick swallow following down his throat. His lips graze a trail up, pressed right by your ear as he asks; “Please-” exacerbation and frustration, it oozes off of him, “Tell me I can kiss you- Yoba I can’t...”
Was this an eggnog induced hallucination? Was your sick pining something mutual? No more clawing through the six feet of thick insecurity to grasp at measly straws or long over the reassurances Sam and Abigail had gifted you? It was your turn to beg a short please of your own before your lips were captured in a desperate lock - All teeth and tongue, clumsy in movement, heads turning to find the perfect fit. Sebastian's hands wander, caressing up and down your sides, to the small of your back, letting them dive further to cup the fat of your ass as his tongue moves to take over your mouth. It swirls lovingly over your own, the ball of his tongue bar rolling and lapping, tastebuds dragging rough against each other, sloppy with spit and tipsiness, each and every breath of his tainted with a moan that cracked its way up his throat. His piercings poke against your lips, kissing them raw with every move of his mouth on your own until he lets your bottom lip thread through his teeth with a needy bite.
He pecks you hard, capturing your lips in a short frenzy before he's back on you again, deep and needy, pulling your body towards his own, soft in comparison to his lean build. You throw your arms around his neck, fingers twirling girlishly into the back of his hair, giving him a sweet tug with every few kisses you give back. His tongue is on you again, lips parting with a groan as he licks into your mouth, the mixed taste of whiskey tainted custard-cream and spiced smoked tobacco swaps with your spit. The air around you thickens, noses huffing against each others cheeks as you try to catch your breath, unwilling to part from the sloppy lock of your lips - Curse the need to breathe, Sebastian pops off with a wet puckered sound, a line of spit still connecting you together. His arms tighten, fingers turning into a claw to grab at you, anything he could get his hands on, his lungs huffed up choked breaths, head shaking in some form of disbelief.
“Fuck.. Yoba-” His lowered voice calls. Your response is barely a squeak before he's on you again, capturing your lips between his in a hot and heavy manner, pulling you into his body, pressing himself against you, the finality of having you in his arms coursing a magma-hot sear through his blood. His knee rests between your legs, an arm caged around your upper back, caressing and rubbing in a feverish frenzy, bundling the fabric of your clothes into desperate fists while the other rubs circles into your hip, tugging right at the waist of your pants. You feel it, the hot pulse of something down below, the strain of his cock pressing up against the seam of his jeans and by proxy, poking against your own body. “I.. Fucken’... Need you.” It’s said between kisses, slurred against your lips, “F’So… Long.. Too fucken’.. Shit-.. Too, mmph.. pussy to say-” That's when you cut him off, a sweet tug to his hair with one hand and a cup to his chin with the other, tippy-toeing your way to press against him, kissing up, chasing his mouth.
“Shh..” You soothe, your own desperation showing as your palms come down to massage his shoulders, caressing up and down his chest over the sheeny smooth fabric of his button down. Your fingers trace against his collar, dipping past the edge of his shirt, already slightly unbuttoned from the top to show off the silver chain of his necklace. Another swear comes from his pierced lips, hands leaving your body for barely a moment for him to tug at the strip of fabric housing the plastic buttons, pulling the poor placket open with a needy tug, losing at least one rounded badge with a snap, the poor little thing landing on the floor with a bounce before it was forgotten completely. His chest was exposed, milky skin bright enough to see in the dim light, sparsely dotted moles dancing over his otherwise clear skin. It's warm against your touch, tacky with the rise of sweet arousal, in the beginning stages of working up a heated sweat.
His hands are back on your body, reaching for the hem of the ‘ugly sweater’ you’d picked out for the night, decorated with kitschy Holiday motifs sewn into the knit. It was one of your last layers you wore to the party that night, a warm and cuddly jumper and scarf left to sit in a neat pile. Off it came with a tug over your head before his bare hands were on your skin, forcing sweet shivers in every spot he touched, sparking like needle pricks with every squeeze and brush. His lips brush into your neck with open mouthed kisses, bites and bruises peppered into your skin- Your nails dig into his shoulder, dragging down his front before your palms flatten, taking in the feeling of his body against your fingertips. “Sebastian~.. Mmnn..” Your head tilts back with a sweet chirpy moan, giving the man all the access he could ever want to your body, thoughts swirling behind your closed eyes, dizzy with the slur of alcohol inebriating your finer thinking ability. Yoba, you didn’t care- Couldn't care less towards the fact.
Sebastian bites against the strap of your bra, the elastic snapping against your shoulder before he mouths at your collar bone, sinking down to the valley of your breasts, bent over to press tender kisses and love bites into the once untouched and hidden skin. You reach back and fumble with the clasp of your bra, picking at the stubborn latch to free your tits, feeling the wet spit of his kisses linger coolly with the huff of his breath.
“Hahh.. Shit..” His voice pipes up again. Kisses come back up, arms wrapping snug around your body to squeeze you into him, tits squishing into his nude chest all soft and pretty, the rougher poke of his necklace making an imprint into your skin. His hands are grabby, arms flexing to hug and pull at you, teeth sinking into your neck, over your collarbones, wet kisses smothered up your jaw to your awaiting lips.
“S-Seb-!” He only groans in response, head nodding as if to say ‘I Know,’ pierced lips dragging into your skin with the movement. Your hands grab his face, cupping his jaw on either side, thumbs caressing in rough swipes, feeling the subtle grain of his shaved face under the pads of them. You grab back at him, palm sliding down his neck, massaging into the bob of his Adam’s apple, against the slope of his shoulder into that tender trap muscle, skin soft with peach fuzz until you move to his chest, feeling the slightest wiry rough of chest hair, barely enough to frame his torso. You rub the expanse of his chest, hands between your pressed bodies, kissing hot and sloppy, tongues swirling, lips fully parting to moan into his mouth as your thumb brushes over his bare nipple, feeling the hard metal of a piercing. It sends a thick course of arousal to your core, throbbing behind the press of your pants.
You squirm, rubbing your thighs together for a sweet release, anything to feel the sticky heat of friction against your budding arousal- Yoba you don’t have to chase it though.
It's like he reads your mind, his hand allowing itself to press between your legs, long and dexterous ring-clad fingers pushing against your mound in a caress, palm pressing richly hot pressure against your clit. Your lips part in another moan, eyes rolling softly, allowing your lashes to flutter into a dreamy close, body melting as if you were moulded out of thick molasses. Things were getting hotter - Heavier - Pleasures beginning to spark under fingers and they soothe and caress, as Sebastian’s palm grounds rough at the seam of your pants, fingertips pressing their pads against your clothed fluttering hole. Your lips part from his with a breathy gasp, his name hot on your tongue, barely whispered, those syllables rounded as you suck air into your starving lungs. Yoba, it's all you can say - A mantra of his name over and over with every few seconds, spewing from your lips as if you knew nothing else.
He breathes your own name back to you, rasped off of his pierced tongue before his kisses are on your throat, nose nuzzling in slow shakes of his head. His hand comes up, swiping the button to your pants with his thumb and forefinger, zipping down the fly enough for him to connect closer - His fingers dip behind your panties, the taught elastic band surely digging into the back of his hand as he glides his digits over your drooly folds. He outwardly groans, another ‘Fuck’ grit through his teeth. You whimper, head leaning into him for comfort, thighs squishing around his teasing hand. Ohhh that was it- The sweet dip of his long middle finger sinking into your wetness, past the weepy ring of your cunt, coated in sweet drool as he dares to curl. You bite into your bottom lip, a long and keened hum following his actions.
“God- Yoba..” He stains, his finger working its magic, curling sweet caresses, a beckoning of ‘come here, come here!’ over and over again. “You’re so.. Fuck- so wet..” He says in bewilderment, tongue running over his kiss-bitten lips, past the metal pierced through them. You nod, an ‘All f’you’ about to drip off of your tongue if it weren't for the grind of his palm sparking a delicious pressure against your clit- Instead you moan, a pathetic affirmation of a noise whining out. One became two, the slip of his ring finger clad with a ring, in fact, easily being stained with the sweet and creamy nectar of your cunt.
Oh, how he works them into you. Cupping your pussy with his lean hand, lengthy fingers rolling sweet curls against the gummy little spot inside of you, giving you his palm to grind back on, lips kissing at the top of your head, huffing an enamoured chuckle each time you clench your squishy thighs against the bone of his wrist and the dig of his bracelets. Yoba, it forces him to be rougher with you, a game to push past the tight trap of your thighs, free himself from the confines all so he could fuck into you. You look up at him, eyes glassy from the abuse of his fingers, pressing right where you needed him. You flutter a blink, bubbles of tears threatening to fall past your bottom lash, doe and unfocused with a pouty bite to your lip.
“Hohhh.. Fuck, that's it.” He holds you into him as your legs go jelly-soft, a hot wash of ditzy dizziness creeping up your knees as his fingers fuck and curl. He stares right at you, brows furrowed in an upward pinch, a tug of a frown born out of hot arousal and focus appearing right at the corner of his lip. Your breaths hitch, rapid, in pace with a sinful hiccup tainting any feeble attempt at speaking-
“Seb.. ast-tian~” It's almost like a warning, sharp with arousal and stuttered in pleasure, breathed inward as you gasp, hands fisting into the fabric of his open button-down like a lifeline.
“Hmmn?” He hums with a nod - Right there. Sebastian was right where you needed him, his fingers mashing into that supple little spot inside of you, that sweet and spongy swell that had your brain all foggy. “What is it, Princess..?” The name alone had you melting further than you thought was possible, your entire body rippling with a sensation that felt as though you were on fire. Your fingers tighten on the fabric of his shirt, chin tilting up in a desperate plea, lip bitten raw and in need of more kisses.
Of course, he obliges, hearing your begs despite the lack of a peep chirped from your throat - Slow and deep - That's how he kisses you. Capturing your lips with a sweet bite of teeth, tongue caressing your own with a loving lick, out of time with the hot and feverish way his fingers fuck your cunt. The juxtaposition only adds to the wobble in your body, coming closer and closer to the very edge, moans drunk up by his lips, swallowed with a happy humming in his throat. One hand comes off of his shirt collar, fingers curling around Sebastian's arm, your soft palm feeling the bump of his wrist bone press into it, greedily pushing him into you while your hips hump back on his digits.
“I..- I’m.!” You can barely formulate your sentences, whipped thicker than cream under his spell, the sinful caress of his fingers beckoning in your cunt.
“Fuckk, Babe.. S’okay- I gotcha’..” Sebastian promises. You cling to him for dear life, your body leaning its weight against him, pushing him further into the wedge of shelves supporting the both of you. You feel it, that spark right at the bottom of your tummy, twisting and turning, firing into ignition as your thighs clench and squirm. So close- So, so close!
Any attempt at a legible sentence is easily cut with a gaspy whimper, crying out as you cream over his knuckles, properly messing up the fabric of your panties with gushy slick, bleeding pat and surely leaving a messy wet spot on your pants. Even with the taut press of your waistband limiting the man’s movements, he doesn't let up, curing those lengthy fingers through the rush of your orgasm, feeling the clenchy release lovingly pulse on his knuckles. He works you through it, eyes wide and enamoured with the way he had you, closer than arm's length, the sole reason for the sweet bliss that rushed through your body - “Shit- That's it.. Thaaat’s it- Fuck.. Look at me.. Look at me-” You obey, fucked out eyes flicking up to his, seeing the wash of arousal pool and swirl behind his dark lashes, his lip bitten bruised as he focuses on you, enamoured. “Feels good? Hmmn?” He nearly begs for reassurance, huffing a relieved laugh when you nod, your body twitching with each sweet pulse.
His lips attack yours, hungry and hot, throat groaning up a delicious noise you couldn’t help but eat up, body on fire with the way his palm rides you through the remnants of your hot burst of arousal.
“Fuck..” His hand softens its press, fingers giving a last curl before he carefully pulls them from the confines of your pants. They're drenched and sticky, dribbles of arousal sticking to his fingers like a lattice, spider webbing with a sinful drip that had you clenching your thighs once again. It drips over his rings, cream and slick mixing with the precious metal, soaked knuckles curling as his lips part, tongue lapping a lick before they’re suckled into his mouth.
The groan he lets out is near animalistic, needy and punched from the depths of his lungs, his own arousal going painfully unnoticed only pressing harder and stricter against the seam of his jeans. The man murmurs, words raspy-hot on his tongue; “Need more of’ya-”
It felt almost comical to describe the next moments as a blur, but the post-orgasm airiness lingering in your boozed tipsy brain had your perception flicking with a whack of whiplash. Turned from your position, the skin of your naked back now pressing into a collection of forgotten Holiday decorations, a slight itch thanks to the plastic of a faux wreath. Your pants are tugged down, eager fingers hooking into your waistband and stripping you of your bottoms, it's a short fumble, hot and clumsy, the air within the closet turned stuffy with breath and sweet arousal-induced sweat.
Hands are on you, flat palms squishing into the flesh of your bare thighs, fingers still slick, pressing their pads into the sensitive, rarely caressed skin - Thumbs daring to dig just enough to have you squirming. His lips are next, sharp with the bud of his piercings and the nips of his teeth, daring to suckle a bruising kiss against your inner thigh, piping up a squeak from your throat, another call of his name. You search for Sebastian in the dim, eyes focusing on the milk of his skin reflecting off of the crack of light, his being nestled comfortably between your legs. His dark hair parts with an affectionate caress of your fingers, looping themselves through his locks to pat him. He hums against your flesh, warm on your skin, breath moist with humidity born out of the hot and tacky stick of arousal leaching into the air from your bodies.
He smacks his lips on the skin of your thighs, itching up and up, further into the centre of your heat, nails digging loving crescent marks into your skin with every eager grope. He kisses against your bikini line, right by the taut elastic hugging at your upper leg, hiding away the sweetness of your cunt behind a wall of silky pantie fabric. He nuzzles his nose into the crevice connecting your thigh to torso, the point of it dragging over your clothed cunt with an affectionate press accompanied by a shameless inhale. Sebastian sighs something dreamy, lips peppering kisses that had your breath hitching, right over the mound of your heat - So pretty and accentuated with the tight and taught pull of your panties, outlining the swell of your pussy. Yoba, he swallows thick, gulping down saliva that dared to pool under his pierced tongue.
Your arousal sticks to his lips, pooling a clear wet spot in your panties, a target for him to kiss at, to tentatively lick at, feeling the slick remnants of your previous orgasm wet on his tongue. He groans- More of that taste on his tongue, eyes heavy as they look up at you, washed over with need. Your fingers twitch, straining against his scalp, tugging his dark strands enough to have him diving right in.
His lips latch to your clothed cunt, impatient to get more of you on his tongue. The soft prick of his lip piercings press a spiky pressure on your sensitive mound, a reminder harsher than the eager lap of his tongue- Yoba.. Fuck- His tongue, strong and flat, licking between your pantie clad folds, adding his own drooly spit to the mess staining the poor fabric. His lips purse against your pussy as he indulges, eyes fluttered shut, thick, dark brows creased into an affectionate scrunch, full of focus.
“O-Ohhh.. Seb… I’m.. I need..” You breathe past the burn of your lungs, panting with jolty huffs each time his lips and tongue brush over the fabric covering the sensitive bud of your clit.
“Hmm.. Mhmmn-” He hums, smacking a harsh kiss before he pulls off, “Need to- Fuck, need my tongue on you. Gotta-” He shakes his head, kissing at his teeth with a ‘tut’ before his thumb dares to leave your thigh, hooking at the fabric of your panties in a motion to pull them aside. He looks to you, a thick gulp down his throat as he watches your head bob- Nod, nod, nod goes your head, almost in desperation to just feel him again, fingers curling in his hair, clenched with arousal and the budding frustration to just make him take you already. Yoba, he was sweet, though, the sentiment of him asking such things, checking in with a silent ask for consent, making your back teeth grit in hot enamourment.
Sebastian takes it, your gifting nod, and eagerly yanks your underwear to the side. His thumb pulls your panties taut, shifted aside to show off the wet glisten of your folds, gushy with your last orgasm, puffy and swollen thanks to the prior abuse of his fingers, good enough to kiss-
Obviously, he does. Planting a wet and obnoxious open-mouthed kiss to your budding clit, lips smacking together before he properly dives into you, selfishly savouring all the sweetly creamed arousal you had for him. You gasp, fingers tightening in the twirls of his hair, surely enough to leave a harsh sting but Yoba- It doesn't seem like he cares. If anything it spurs the man on, a hot groan erupting from his chest, lips parting, the prick of his piercings digging a delicious pressure into your cunt. He’s messy with you, hungry slurps uncaring of the vulgar noise - The sharp and uncomfortable itch of the Holiday wreath biting at your skin was incomparable to the searing hot pleasure ripped from your pussy, stinging with overstimulation, forcing an endless string of whines from your lips.
Your throat hiccups, panting hot swears and the syllables of his name, rounded easily from your lips as he takes to you. It's easy for another orgasm to threaten your body, the feeling eager to roll from your cunt, twisting sweet and stabby like a suckled on candy cane, licked into a pin-thin spike poking at your gut- Especially with the works of Sebastian's tongue, swirly with his movements, tongue fat and flat as the metal ball of his piercing kisses at the bud of your clit in his rhythmic laps. He’s vocal with you, only spurring you on; Sweet hums tainting each breath he sucked in, feeble attempts to get oxygen in his lungs. You’re not sure he cares, not with the hearty mash of his lips against your mound, pursed with a stingy-sweet suckle directed right against your clit, teeth grazing at the supple soft swell of your pussy.
You can’t help the hot babble, the filthy cry you speak next, steadily rushing to the very edge- Wanting to just take him- Damn any refractory period, you needed to feel the pulsy stab of his length drilling you over the edge.
“Fuck me- Please- please, please Sebby just- Ahhnn..~” You whine, fingers giving his hair some grace, opting to feverishly pet him, clumsy affection in your fingers as you work them in a soothe. “Want you- Want you so, so bad- Y’know? F’so long-” You don't have to convince him.
He pops off of your cunt- Not without leaving several plants of hot kisses, pecking hotly on your clit before he tugs your panties down. His cock comes free with the jangle of a belt buckle, the leather sliding from his belt loops with a zip, metal buckle daring to clank on the floor before he’s working at the button and zip of his fly. His lips kiss at yours, the taste of your cunt on his tongue, sweetly salty and drenched in arousal, twinged with the last remnants of spicy nicotine and cream-sweet eggnog, swapped with the swirly spitty lap of your tongues mingling together in a hot collide.
It feels like a hot blur, motions moving quickly, Sebastian's arm jutting as he fists his free cock- Weepy dribbly tip all swollen and pink, finally free from the tight seam of his jeans. You squirm, lips clumsy on his own, arousal knocking you into an instinct-driven motion, oh so needy, “Seb..- Please.. Fuck… Fuck me~” You beg, muted between hot kisses, words slurred with the lick of his tongue, cutting you off with his mouth.
You move in tandem, arms throwing themselves around his neck as he grips the squish of your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his lean hip, hooking you into him as he lines himself up. He pops off of your lips enough to breathe, murmuring filthy things against them, coated in hot spit and your sweet arousal; “M’gonna fuck you- Promise, God- Yoba I promise, Princess-” He throws more sweet pet names your way, “Wanted me? Hmm? Wanted- Fuck.. Wanted you f’so long..” He promises. You feel the pudge of his cock press to your cunt, sparking a drooly clench of your drippy hole. He grinds on you, hips rolling, tip weeping as if it were crying, dribbling its milky pre over your puffy clit, pathetically kissing against your folds as his hips rut.
“Fuuuuckkk..” The ring of your cunt hugs his tip, suckling him in as he finally makes an effort to press in, he groans out a moan, matching the supple whine of your throat as you take him. Slow and sweet was something that could surely come later- The pressing itch of desperation easily taking over between you. Heavy rolls turn into needy fucks, hips jutting, pudgy cock tip making love to your cervix, kissing hot and lovingly hard pecks against the sweet mush in the depths of your pussy.
It's easy for his hips to roll into you, the base of his cock pounding against your mound, grinding the wiry curls that decorated him into the sensitive bud of your clit. Plap, plap, plap goes his hips on yours, skin to skin, sticky and sweat sheened, tacky to the touch as your bodies collide. You brace one arm on a shelf behind you, swiping off any stray decorations with a clamouring clutter, mystery items bouncing off into the depths of the closet, rolling on the floor. Your other arm hangs loosely on his neck, doe eyes fucked out and glossed as they look up at him, lips parted sweetly, kiss bitten and spit-shined, captured in a heated tongue and teeth-filled kiss before Sebastian groans.
“Everythin’ I fucken’ dreamed of-” It's said between gritted teeth, his gaze snapping from your wet eyes to your drooling cunt, huffing an arousal filled chuckled laced up in disbelief, seeing that drooly ring of cream coat over his length, making a mess between yourselves. “So fucking perfect- Fuhhhck m’not gonna last long- Hahh.” You nod in agreement, eyes closing, that bubble of tears falling down your cheeks with a streak. Closer and closer came the tight twist of your next orgasm, your poor and abused pussy clenching loving squeezes on his cock, spurred on with the hot sting of overstimulation- Your thigh cramped, spread over his hip for him, tits bouncing with every thrust, lungs stuck in a sweet burn.
Your skin sweats, lips drool, eyes blink all glossy and dumb, brain firing off every time you have the pleasure of looking at him- Closer, closer - Your clit throbs, hips pathetically humping back into his fucks, chasing the hot high that threatened to gush!
There's sudden laughter, slurred and obnoxious, rasped from an all-too-happy voice. It leaks from beneath the crack in the door, the outside world leaching into your little space, a phantom chill washing over your body as if the door has swung open to the fresh fall of snow that blanketed the street. A crash occurs, a feminine voice scolding someone, furniture scraping against the wood floor of the outside. You hadn't noticed your attention had wandered, not until Sebastian grips your chin, turning you back to lock into another searing kiss-
“Oiii-” A fist bashes against the door, rattling the thing on its hinges. Sebastian’s hand moves, coming between your legs to rub at your poor bud- The fiery thrill of a threat- A burning fear of being caught by a drunken Sam had your body twitching. Sebastian seemed to feel the same, making something of a challenge to get you off before the blonde had the audacity to finally clear the doorway. “Ha- ‘ave you kissed yet?” Yoba knows you’ve done so much more.
Sebastian presses you harder into the shelves, hips snapping rough, filthy words spat into your ears as his hand worked overtime on your poor clit- His hips roll sloppily, breathes coming into a hard and slow pant, huffing in your ear- “Fuck.. M’ Gonna fucken’ cum- Yeah? G-Gonna take it? Hmmn? Look so pretty like this-” he babbles, tone heavy in his throat. “Gonna make it up t’you- Yeah? Promise.. Hnng fuck- P-Promise..” His fucks turn snappy, jut, jut, jutting- Punching at your poor cervix, cunt mashing against the base of his cock.
“Seb- As.. Tian~” You choke, head lulling back with an eye roll, teeth biting into your lips as you finally gush again, wetting his cock with a weepy clench of your pussy, filthily kissing at his length, adding to the wonderful mess between your legs. So sweet and squeezy, your velvety walls massage the length of his cock as you cum, pussy suckling him in, inviting the hot pulse of his own orgasm with a loving hug.
His hips snap in sharp staccatos, throat stuck in a perpetual growl with each lingering fuck as he spurts. He creams into you, hot and ropey filling up the depths of your sweetness, milked off by your squeezing. His sweaty forehead comes to rest in the crook of your neck, fingers holding your thigh up squeezing a grab, a stingy dig of his nails leaving desperate crescent marks behind. He rasps a drawn-out groan, nosing into the tacky, sweaty skin of your neck, mouthy kisses back on your shoulder, just adding to the bitey kiss marks he’d left on you already.
You jolt when another knock rasps against the door, sloppy and full, thunks formed by a fist connecting to the wood. “Alright, you guys, you've definitely been in there long-e-fucking-nough." Sam’s voice calls with a snort, a failed attempt at stifling his laughter. “Don’ make me open this door~” He sings.
The fumble for clothes and the accidental collide of foreheads seemed worth it all - Especially when you roll over and see the man now in your bed, chest rising and falling as he sleeps, more bruises kissed into both of your skin, all sticky and spent, a shower surely in order by the time morning came. For now, you bask in the luxury of resting your head on Sebastian’s chest, lulled to sleep by the dull ache in your legs and the tipsy swirl of spiked eggnog settling in your stomach.
SYNOPSIS: all you can think about is sitting on higuruma’s face.
✎ INCLUDES 18+, nsfw, cunnilingus, cum licking, praise kink, face sitting
NOTE(S) oh nothing.. just thinking abt animated higuruma’s nose (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)
ೃ⁀➷ you were laying in bed wearing nothing except your favourite pink silky robe, customized with your initials. it was an average week night, waiting up for higuruma if you weren’t too tired from work.
he’d been busier as of lately due to him being placed on a high profile case. he’d texted you saying you should go to bed instead of waiting up for him because he’d be later than usual but you went against it and stayed up.
you kept yourself occupied with some self care consisting of showering and lathering yourself in hiromi’s favourite scent, vanilla bean. after showering you lit a candle and sat in bed to catch up on some novels you promised yourself you’d get around to reading once you had the free time.
you sat in bed, legs crossed and flipped through the pages when you heard the door knob twisting signalling higuruma was home.
“honey?” hiromi made his way to you and planted a kiss on your forehead.
“hey,” you smiled.
“you stayed up? i thought i told you i’d be back late.” he undid his button up shirt and belt.
“i know but i wanted to wait up for you,” you closed your book, setting it on the nightstand.
“come here.” he motioned you over to the edge of the bed where he sat.
you got up and stood over him with your arms crossed. hiromi pulled you on his lap gently, resting his hands on your waist over your robe.
“miss me?” he asked.
“hmm maybe just a little.” you teased.
“just a little?” he whispered, nibbling at your ear.
“you smell nice, did you put on that lotion i got you?” he rest his head on your shoulder, inhaling your scent.
“yes, you like?” you answered.
higuruma fumbles with the small knot that was barely keeping your robe on until it fell loose. you let your robe fall off your shoulders, revealing your naked figure. he carefully tosses your robe to the other end of the bed before laying back in the bed, allowing you to be on top.
“wait-” an idea popped into your head.
“hmm?” higuruma gave a puzzled look.
“i was wondering since y’know your uh.. your nose,” you mumbled, only confusing hiromi more.
“what about my nose?” he questioned, tracing circles over your hips. you felt your face getting hot from embarrassment and the realization hit him.
“you.. you want to sit on it?” he asked. you avoided his gaze and nodded shamefully.
“okay,” he simply says.
his arms wrap around the back of your thighs, pulling you toward his face without hesitation. the sudden contact of his mouth to your bare pussy made you shiver. higuruma has always been an eater so this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
he was honestly surprised that you requested this as you’d always been shy and followed his lead. this time felt different. hiromi enjoyed letting you take control and doing what you wanted, it was hot. his hands spread your legs wider, giving him more access.
you felt as his mouth opened and sucked on your folds gently, exploring every part of you with his tongue. he hummed against you, sending vibrations of pleasure through your body. his nose pressed against your clit, earning a whine from you.
“hiromi.. yes,” you praised.
he groaned against you as you moved your hips, grinding against his nose. his eyes roll back in pleasure at the sight of you using his nose to get yourself off. he presses his nose harder to your clit while you grind against him. your breath gets heavier while your fingers tangle in his hair.
“you’re doing so good- hahh hiromi,” his face flushed at your words of encouragement. his arms reach up and guide your hips.
“i’m close baby..” you mumbled.
higuruma began lapping at your entrance with firm strokes while he moved his nose in a circular motion. his fingers dig into your hips when he feels your orgasm approaching.
you felt your release as you looked down to see hiromi’s face covered in a mixture of drool and your juices running from his nose to his chin. you panted, rolling over beside higuruma who was wiping his mouth and licking your slick off of his fingers.
Warning: SMUT!!! MINORS AND MEN DNI!, reader is in her early twenties, talk of alcohol consumption, dirty talk, light power imbalance, lesbian sex, minor language, tit play, body touching, body grinding, fingering, praise kink, vibrator, overstimulation, clit play, force organism, slight aftercare, I aged down Nancy and Mike in this AU. Happy holidays everyone!🎅🎄🤍💚❤️
— Kinkmas day: 2
Karen sighs in exhaustion, switching the faucet off she removes her wet gloves before disposing of them. She takes up her bottle of wine and she pours herself another glass.
“ Holly finally fell asleep, after two bed time stories and me having to convince her four times no monsters are gonna get her tonight” you said as you emerged from the hallway. Karen hums in response as her lips tug upwards into a small gracious smile, her eyes flicking towards you.
“ You deserve a medal” she jokes and you both laugh contentedly. You walk over to where she’s standing and sit on the stool.
“ thank you for coming over on such short notice to help, I really appreciate it” she admitted wearily as she brought the wine glass to her mouth to take another sip.
“ It’s nothing Ms. Wheeler….I love being around to help anyway” you confess and she hums again as she slowly gulps her wine.
You had first started babysitting for Ms wheeler way back when you were in high school— approximately your last year to be exact. It was apart of your Human Resource management and development program for a course you wanted to sign up for in college so the experience was ideal for you. Her kids were fun to be around and pretty easy to manage.
Nancy the oldest, she was brave and fierce you were certain that there was nothing that little girl was afraid of and mike was the most curious little boy you’ve ever encountered not to mention holly who can be a lot at times but she was so pure and funny.
Back then you had a thing for women who were old enough to be your mother and by spending more time with Ms wheeler you slowly started to develop a thing for her but you forced yourself to bury those feelings because you didn’t wanna ruin anything for yourself, and plus you weren’t old enough. But now, you two had became closer, you are now an adult and things happened between Karen and Ted that unfortunately called for a divorce between them.
“ you can have the rest of the bottle if you’d like” her voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you pull back just slightly from your face resting on your hand to look at her.
“ Mh? Oh no— I don’t drink” you lie but she persists.
“ Oh come on one glass won’t hurt ya… plus, it’s just us” the way she said the last part made your heart race in a bad way, of course it was just you two. And that’s the problem you’ve never been alone with Karen for this long nonetheless this close, with your raging internal milf crush. Pushing your thoughts away again you pick up the bottle of wine and pour it into a glass before bringing it to your lips, her eyes following your actions intensely.
After a few gulps she smirks at you and you swear your stomach does the flip.
“ Come on let’s dance” with bright eyes before you can even respond she’s already tugging you to stand and dragging you in the middle of the living room. She turns on the record player and places a record down soon ‘ hang on to your love’ by Sade starts playing. Turning back to you she starts swaying her hips to the intro of the song.
“ In heaven’s name why are you walking away” she sings along to the lyrics as she moves with the music unhurried like she had borrowed all the time in the world just for tonight. Her shoulders roll gently as her fingers snap to the beat. With her head titling with the beat as she continues to sing.
“ Come on” she pulls you closer to her, one hand on your hip and the other gliding through the air to the rhythm of the music. You didn’t know how to dance or the song but seeing her in her element spurred you on. You followed her lead and rocked your body in sync with hers, gently, carefully. She spun you around so that your back was against her chest as she rolled her hips slightly against your ass as her hands slide up your side to rise your hands above your head.
Your breath hitches and her fingers continue to roam your body gently. Her perfume completely coveted your senses, a delicate soft and rich velvety scent the fragrance felt familiar, comforting almost. You were beginning to feel hot— too hot. Maybe it was her body heat on yours or perhaps it was the way she was subconsciously touching you right now. You turn back around to face her, face completely red and hair starting to fizz from the constant motion meanwhile she looked like she had just gotten ready two minutes ago.
She hooked her fingers through the loop of your jeans and pulled you closer to her as she started grinding her body on yours for a brief moment her hands grope your tits before they move down your stomach and eventually come to rest on your hips again. She had no idea how hard and fast your heart was beating right now and probably how desperate you must have looked under the candle lit lightening, gazing up at her though your lashes with your teeth on your bottom lip. She looks at you and for a moment you swear you see her eyes flick down to your lips and then she inches closer and closer til your lips finally meets.
It started slow, tentative, then spiraled into something urgent and all-consuming, it became desperate and sloppy. You moaned softy into the kiss which gave her the chance to slip her tongue into your mouth. She cupped your face, pressing you closer as if letting go wasn’t an option. It was desperate and tender all at once. You could taste the wine on your tongue and even the taste of the BBQ grilled chicken everyone had for dinner. She was consuming your entire mind.
Without breaking the kiss she begins to lead you to the nearest bedroom probably the guest bedroom. She shuts the door close with a kick of her ankle as she gently pushes you down onto the mattress. She pulls her sweater over her head as she unbuttons her jeans and kicks them off before sliding off her underwear and bra as well. You gulped as you eagerly did the same. She tucks a curl behind your ear as her hand moves cup your head.
“ Do you want this?” She breathes desperately and you nod.
“ No i want to hear you to say it, say you want it” at this point she’s already unclasping your bra.
“ I want it” you say softly and she smiles.
“ Good girl” and with that she pushes your shoulders down as her mouth finds yours again. She breaks the kiss as her hands venture downward.
Goosebumps erupt around your skin, the little flames of excitement coursing through your veins as she hooks her fingers in the lace of your underwear and smoothly slides them down your legs.
With a frantic enthusiasm, you helped her kick the fabric off your feet, spreading your legs open for her so that it couldn't be clearer on what you wanted.
What you needed.
Karen settled herself between your thighs, as she arched her back giving you a glimpse of the soft curve of her ass.
With featherlight kisses she decorated your inner thighs, every brush of her tongue causing you to squirm in her grasp.
“ Oh my God, Karen." Your voice is already out of breath, your chest heaving in anticipation, and your clit twitching every time her breath fanned over the sensitive bud.
Her eyes glimmer up at you, sparkling in mischief.
“ That feel good baby?”
The firm swipe of her wet tongue over your labia is enough for you to plant your feet into the mattress, lifting your body up in pleasure, trying to chase the heat of her mouth.
Karen’s tongue moved with precision, trying to get to know you like the back of her hand, wanting to know what makes you cry and squirm. She used the firm tip of her tongue to focus on your clit, the little, swollen pearl peeking out and begging for her attention.
Slowly she flicked up the bud, then circled her tongue around, then flicked again, until the tension in your stomach began to pull.
Your fingers tangled into her soft hair, tugging on the blonde strands, trying your best to ground yourself and delay the undeniable waves of warmth that flooded you. Tears pricked in your eyes, and it took one more press of her tongue to make you fall apart.
Salty drops spilled down your cheeks while you moaned incoherent cries of her name.
She pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee, your body so sensitive that the small gesture caused you to shake again.
Eventually ,after a couple of deep breaths ,you calmed down again, your heart still thumping in your chest as you breathily chuckled.
Karen’s eyes found yours from in between your thighs, a lazy smirk curved at the end of her lips.
"That was quick."
You could only respond back with a satisfied hum.
Through your blurry vision, you watched her stand up, turning her back to you as she rummaged through the drawers — probably looking for a towel or so you thought.
Her body was absolutely lethal, the curve of her hips and her round ass God it was magnificent. You couldn’t wrap your head around of Ted fumbled a wife like her or even fathom how her bagged her in the first place.
She climbed back up on the bed, the mattress weighing down beneath you as she hovered over your frame. With a touch ever so gentle, she used her thumb to wipe some sweat off your forehead.
Karens eyes always had such a physical effect on you. The dark colored irises spoke volumes, and this time they told you how loved you were. A nice reminder after the built up tension from years ago . Craning your neck, you took the opportunity to press your lips to hers. You were grateful when she took the lead, cupping your face with one hand as she deepened the kiss.
It didn't take long for need to overcome you again.
Wetness still dripped out of you, coating your inner thighs, and it only accumulated by the wet strokes of Karen’s tongue against yours.
Her heavy breasts pressed down on your chest, comfortably caging you in as she pried your legs open with the hand that wasn't busy holding your head.
Too caught up in the heat of the moment, you didn't hear the small buzzing sound that was added to the background of your heavy breathing as Karen turned on the vibrator that she took out of a drawer earlier.
A strangled sound in between a gasp and a cry left your throat, legs shaking as karen pressed the buzzing toy on your pussy and let it slip between your swollen folds, vibrating directly at your most sensitive spots.
"Sshh..." Her nose brushed against the side of your face, cooing you back into submission.
" You can take it, you’re a big girl" she purred as she placed a kiss on your cheekbone. "I know there's more in you."
As always, she was right. The muscles in your stomach clenched, and your clit couldn't stop throbbing and twitching against the silicone in between her hands, each vibration pulling you under until you felt close to reaching that peak again.
Karen moaned at the sight of you, a bunny caught in the traps of a sly wolf. Some how she knew your body better than you, knew you better — God it was maddening.
"Karen-" you squealed. Your body gave in fast, thighs clenching around her wrist, head pushed back into the pillow, nails digging crescent moon shapes into her skin as you clung onto her, breathily moaning her name.
she turned the vibrator up a setting, taking nothing but pleasure in the way your mouth fell open in a gasp, eyebrows scrunching and eyes wide with tears as you let yourself go.
Karen tosses the vibrator aside before the overstimulation could hurt, instantly cupping your pussy with the warmth of her hand to soothe you.
"Oh, that's it, that's my good girl," she mutters in praise, leaving gentle kisses over your teary face in an effort to calm you down.
The features on your face slowly inched back into place as your breathing stuttered to a relaxing pattern.
Karen’s hand stayed on your heat, rubbing her palm around in tranquil circles to let you ride out your high. Gradually you started to gain back feeling, your pussy previously feeling numb due to the sensual assault she'd brought you.
It was almost humorous how fast your pussy started weeping for her again, new, sweet juices falling from your hole and dripping down.
For a moment she looks down at the mess and her eyes fill with nothing but admiration. Gently she pushes two digits into your cunt and your head falls back as you let out a soft broken cry, your hand flying down to tug at her wrist. She thrust her fingers in you two steady times before pulling them out. With her hand covered in your slick she brings her fingers to her mouth and begins to clean them off.
As you sigh and calm down she kisses your forehead before kissing you on the lips.
“ you okay? Can I get you anything” she asked so softly you’d think she’d just been crying.
You shake your head “ No, just you— and maybe another bottle of wine” you say and she chuckles.
“ That’s my girl” she leans down to kiss your forehead again before she gets up off the bed and leaves the room, when she comes back she brings a bottle of wine in hand and a granola bar. She places them down on the bedside table before getting back in the bed. Time passed and you both eventually fell asleep tangled in sheets and in eachother in complete solitude knowing you’d have to get up early so that the kids don’t find you both.
Summary: You’ve always been excellent and following the rules. So when the three of you are invited to the avengers Christmas party, this is the time that will test if you really do know the rules like you think you do.
You can now read this here on my new blog where all my old and new writing will be posted! on @wandanatsbee
I'm sorry this is late, I literally didn't even think of doing a Kinkmas until Christmas Day! This served as great practice for my writing, although it's very amateurish since I've never wrote any smut/sex before. Hope you enjoy!
Wordcount: 13,000 words
WARNINGS (or what this includes): Sex, sex, sex. Amateurish sex scenes. Threats of voyeurism. Overstimulation (male and female). Mirror sex. Pussy eating + blowjobs. Unprotected sex. Sex toys. Praise. Poorly disguised author fetishes (wish of marriage). Bondage. Small dirty talk. Food play. Cum eating.
Kinkmas one: Pussy Eating!
Andrew had you lying on the kitchen counter, making you lay on your back so he could easily keep your legs spread open.
“Andrew!” you mewled, squirming as he forced his arms under your thighs, locking them in place around his head. “Please!”
You weren’t sure exactly what you were pleading for; if it was for him to go faster for you to that sweet release, or for him to slow down so you could savor the moment.
“I know, baby.” Andrew hummed, his face messy and shiny under the kitchen’s lighting. “Gimme another minute.”
“You already said that!” you whined, your eyes darting to the oven clock, breathing heavily to the point you were panting, feeling rushed for your orgasm. “I need to leave for work soon!”
“Y’know I love me a woman in uniform...” Andrew teasingly smirked, glancing up from your thighs. "But I'm busy."
You looked down at him, frowning before your eyes looked back at the clock, another whine leaving your throat, more desperate than the last. “C’mon, Andrew! Please!”
“Don’t worry, baby.” Andrew hummed, kissing your thighs, before biting down. “I won’t make you late to work. Promise. I’ll drive you.”
That promise was a little better, but it didn’t exactly help your worries with the limited time you had before needing to clock in for work; and just thinking about trying to orgasm made you feel farther from it.
“Keep talking about work and I’ll get the muzzle for you…” Andrew muttered, removing his teeth from your thigh to lick at it, before moving his head and licking a straight line on your clit.
“Ah!” you gasped, surprised at the feeling of his hot tongue on you, a whimper leaving your lips.
“It’s that clock, eh?” Andrew questioned, speaking casually as if his tongue wasn’t swirling around your clit, causing your thighs to try and clamp up at the sensitivity—but he wouldn’t allow that. “C’mon, turn over.”
He put your legs off his shoulders, letting you get up off the counter. He took off his sweater, leaving himself shirtless as he bent you over the counter, covering your head with the sweater so you couldn’t see.
“Be good and spread ‘em.” He hummed, getting down on his knees and tapping your legs a few times.
He sat so that you were facing him and the wall, while his head resting on the cabinet, facing your body.
Your legs were on one side of Andrew, before you opened them and placed your other foot to his other hip, standing over him.
A squeal left your lips, surprised at the feeling of his tongue invading your pussy, circling around as he was nose-deep. His tongue scooped out your juices, greedily slurping it down before coming back for seconds, and thirds, and more that you couldn’t count.
“Fuck!” you cried out, your cheek against the cold counter as Andrew’s tongue rotated between scooping your pussy and sucking on your clit.
Andrew grabbed your ankle and threw one of your legs over his shoulder, his lips parting from your clit as he spit on his fingers. He allowed two fingers into your pussy at once, softly pumping them in and out for you to adjust.
“Ngh… Andrew…” You moaned, keening at the slow pumping, before it started speeding up, his long and slender fingers going knuckle-deep, before he started to curl them up to hit that precious spongy spot in you. “Andrew!”
His mouth went back to your clit, licking and sucking on it as his fingers curled and uncurled at a faster rate, causing you to whine and squirm.
His free hand that was resting on your hip went to your ass, before he gave it a warning slap, not too hard but still enough to make you jump.
“Grind.” He commanded, lolling out his tongue for you to use.
You didn’t hesitate to allow your hips to take over, grinding your pussy into his mouth and onto his nose, your legs close to buckling at the pleasure, both of your erotic zones being stimulated at once.
“Gonna cum!” you whined, your hips bucking as Andrew’s head gently hit the back of the cabinet; although he didn’t care as he continue to finger and lick you.
A cry left your lips as your legs shook, your hips stuttering as your stomach uncoiled, closing your eyes as scratching the counter as you came, orgasming on his tongue.
Andrew smiled, pleased as he removed his fingers from your pussy, licking them clean.
“Always so sweet…” he muttered happily before he hit your thigh, “C’mon. Again…”
Kinkmas two: Toys
Andrew’s cock had a nice curve that hit your G-spot every time you slammed your hips down onto it, before pulling yourself up, only to drop yourself back down.
“Fuuuck… Just like that, pretty…” Andrew groaned, his hands resting on your hips as he helped you bounce onto his cock.
Little pants and gasps came out from your mouth, out of breath as you worked your thighs overtime to please him.
Honestly, riding wasn’t your favorite. The stinging in your legs distracted you from the pleasure of his cock hitting your G-spot, but you didn’t want to disappoint him. So you kept bouncing.
Andrew knew something was wrong as he looked at the way your eyebrows furrowed together, closing your eyes as you tried to channel all your energy into this intense exercise. You were panting more than you were moaning,
“Hey.” Andrew spoke up, slapping your thigh. “Stop.”
You slowed your pace before stopping altogether, looking at him confused. You took the break to breathe, feeling your legs tremble as you saddled Andrew’s lap.
“S-something wrong? Am I not… d-doing it right?” you questioned, worried as you tried to catch your breath.
Andrew sat up from the mattress, before quickly pinning you down underneath him, giving you a stern glare.
“So this is what we’re gonna be resorting to, huh?” he sighed. “If you’re not enjoying it, tell me.”
“But I was!” you stammered, you felt your face burn up, embarrassed at being caught.
Andrew sighed, rolling his eyes before he leaned over the bed, opening a drawer from the nightstand.
“It doesn’t feel good if you don’t feel good. Making me feel like an asshole over here…” Andrew huffed, grabbing a rose vibrator, turning it on and holding it to your clit.
“Ah-ha! ‘M sorry!” you cried out, squirming at the sensation.
“Don’t apologize. Obviously you can’t use your words.” Andrew scoffed, grabbing his hard cock with his free hand and lining it up to your pussy. “I need to feel you cum around my cock. Then I’ll know if you’re sorry.”
Andrew smiled, gently pushing his cock into you, starting off with a few soft thrusts to get you warmed up before speeding his hips up.
“Sorry! ‘M sorry!” you mewled, your hands coming to his shoulders and holding them for dear life.
Andrew grabbed one of your legs and held it to his hip, causing you to hook it around him and sinking himself balls deep into you, a nasty plap! plap! echoing throughout the room as he sunk himself deeper into you, pulling out before thrusting his cock back into your pussy.
“I- Fuck!” you cried out, closing your eyes and moaning, your hands digging into his skin and raking down his arms, leaving fire trails in its wake.
Moans escaped your mouth and you were worried the neighbors would hear, but your thoughts immediately melted as Andrew raised the setting of the vibrator, a loud cry escaping your lips as your hips bucked up to chase the pleasure.
Andrew leaned down and peppered your neck with kisses, leaving small bites as you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him down and moaning into his ear.
Another minute of Andrew’s deep thrusts into your pussy and the vibrator toying with your clit, you came with a cry, your hips rocking against the vibrator to milk out your orgasm as you squeezed his cock.
A few moans escaped his mouth before he groaned, shoving his face into your neck to hide it, his hips slowing down to enjoy his orgasm.
You squirmed and whined as the vibrator still played with your bundle of nerves, overstimulating you before Andrew turned the vibe off, pulling it away from you.
“You feel good now?” Andrew muttered, catching his breath in the crook of your neck.
“Mm-hm.” You nodded, panting as you closed your eyes and enjoyed the afterglow, your brain feeling mush and no longer worrying about the ache in your legs.
“Good,” He muttered, kissing your neck’s pulse before removing his head from there. He smiled, his stilled hips starting to thrust again. “Let’s keep it that way.”
Kinkmas three: Grinding + French kisses
You walked through the door and noticed Andrew sitting on the couch, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his legs, playing video games on the living room TV.
It was annoying to see him after your shift at work. He hadn’t bothered cleaning up, getting dinner started, or even getting up off the couch to greet you!
“Welcome home.” Andrew muttered, not sparing a glance to you as he button-smashed the controller in his hands.
You huffed, walking towards him and pushing his chest, knocking him back against the couch.
“Hey?” Andrew huffed, confused before his girlfriend sat down in his lap.
“Some men really got the audacity. Chivalry is dead.” You scoffed, pouting at him.
“Wait,” Andrew spoke through gritted teeth, desperate to win his match as he leaned his head to the side to look past you. “I just gotta—damn it!” Andrew hissed, a "game over" text on the living room screen, before he glared at his girlfriend. “Happy?”
“Very.” You smirked, glad to see you have his attention now. “You can pay attention to me now.”
“Only until the next match starts or a teammate revives me.” Andrew sighed, before a small smile came to his face.
He could never be mad with you if all you wanted was a little bit of affection. He reached his hand up and ruffled your hair teasingly, watching as a smile made way onto your face.
You leaned in, your plush lips connecting with Andrew’s. He reciprocated the act, his hand combing through your hair, brushing away all of your work-stress and drama.
You let out a protesting whine when he separated from you, mumbling something about his game starting, before you reached out and placed your hands on his cheeks.
A surprised sound escaped Andrew’s lips as your quickly crashed your lips right back onto his, tilting your head and attempting to deepen the kiss.
Andrew almost pulled away to complain about you getting in the way of his game, but a slow drag of your hips meeting his own quickly made him swallow his complaint; completely forgetting about his game when he had better things to worry about.
He felt your hips slowly working slow grinds onto his cock, and suddenly that game didn’t seem so important.
He opened his mouth for your tongue to glide through his lips. Your tongue pressed up against his, causing a delightful shiver to run down his spine.
You squirmed into a position more comfortable, scooting closer as you pressed your chest up against Andrew’s, your clothed pussy directly against his covered cock as your legs wrapped around his waist. Andrew’s hands went to your hips to help grind them into him more firmly.
A moan forced its way out of his throat, but it only got sucked up in yours as you started sucking on his tongue like it was your favorite hard candy.
“Mm… just like that…” Andrew groaned.
He took one of his hands off your hip and moved it to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling you deeper into the kiss. His free hand resting on your hip, before it went to your pants.
His fingers traced your thigh, before moving up and latching onto the waistband, tugging down—before his hand was suddenly slapped away.
“Don’t.” You grumbled into his mouth.
“Mm… why?” he muttered, trying to pull his lips away from yours, but you wouldn’t have that as your hands went to his collar and kept your lips against his.
You kept kissing him, sucking on his tongue before finally parting. You bit his bottom lip teasingly, before pulling away.
“Because you haven’t done anything to earn it…” you answered. “Today was your day to cook, and you didn’t. Your day to clean too. It was your responsibility to get stuff done while I was at work.”
“I’m sorry. I forgot. I got too distracted playing video games…” Andrew muttered, feeling a slight sting in his lips from where you bit him, the spit-glossed area swelling up.
“So you don’t get to fuck me.” You spoke.
“Fuck. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Andrew spoke, furrowing his eyebrows and gritting his teeth, desperate to feel you.
“If you’re sorry you’ll listen to me.” You muttered, your pussy grinding onto his cock. “You need to cum first before I even think of letting you fuck me.”
“God… you’re evil.” Andrew gasped, feeling your hips speed up.
He threw his head back against the couch cushioning and let out a throaty groan, both hands going to your hips and gripping them tighter.
You leaned down and kissed his neck, biting down on some areas and sucking to leave love bites. His hands helped grind your pussy onto his cock, his cock head leaking with pre-cum that stained his boxers.
His own hips stuttered, before he started to thrust up into you, his hard cock grinding against your clit in a way that made you gasp and disconnect your teeth from his neck.
Andrew pulled you in for a kiss, pinching your hip and causing you to yelp, allowing him to finally dominate your mouth now with his tongue.
As his tongue played with yours, Andrew could feel your pussy toying with his cock. He could taste his release, and it was like he could feel your empty pussy squeezing your walls, desperate for him to be inside you.
“Fuck…” Andrew muttered, his thrusts quickening, albeit becoming sloppy. “G-gonna…”
He couldn’t finish his sentence as he groaned, his head hitting the couch as his hips shook, thrusting against his will as he chased his orgasm. His eyes closed tightly, as if trying to escape the intensity of his orgasm. His cum spoiled his boxers, a wet stain appearing on his pants as he panted.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Andrew groaned, coming down from his high, his hips letting out a weak thrust up every now and then on reflex. “G-give me a second… then I’ll fuck ya, baby.”
“Oh?” you grinned, tilting your head to the side. “When did I say I was gonna let you fuck me? I’m still not convinced you’re sorry yet.” You purred, your hips speeding back up to a painful pace.
“A-aha! Fuck!” Andrew hissed, his eyes shooting open and grabbing your hips to try and stop them. “(Y/N)!”
It felt like a spiking pain in his now-empty balls, but it was mixed with the pleasure of his cock being stimulated again, a sensation that made his head spin and mouth drool.
“Cum again, Andrew. Make me convinced you’re sorry.” You hummed, kissing the pulse on his neck.
Kinkmas four: Phone masturbation + small dirty talk
Andrew had been visiting his parents’ house after not seeing them since his early college years. He decided to go alone this year since he was only going to be staying there for a weekend, but it was a weekend too long as you tossed and turned in your shared bed.
You finally accepted that you couldn’t sleep. With a groan, you reached over and turned on the lamp by your bed, illuminating the room with a soft yellow glow.
You stared at the ceiling, frustrated before eventually just grabbing your phone, unlocking it and searching through your gallery for a picture of Andrew.
You had an album dedicated to him. Pictures of just mundane things like grocery shopping, running errands, eating food; you liked seeing how handsome he was just by simply existing.
You were head over heels for that man.
You clicked on a picture you took of him finally getting his hair cut. It was just a slight trim, and right after they left the salon he immediately ran his fingers through his hair and messed up all the stylist’s work at trying to keep it out of his face.
You liked the photo because of his sly smile from ruining the look, but also because it was him being comfortable with how he normally looked, just being himself.
You thought about all the hugs and kisses you’d demand from Andrew when he finally returns home. Contemplating just how many hours of cuddles he owes you for abandoning you (for 2 days).
You thought about how many hours he owes you in bed, making it up to you and your pussy.
Damn it, now you were thinking of something else.
You groaned, brightening the image despite how it hurt your eyes in the low lighting of the room, wanting to see as much of him as you could.
Your hands trailed to your panties, toying with your clit over the thin material before going to your slit. You nudged the cloth away and stuck two fingers into your pussy, not bothering in trying to re-enact Andrew’s cock thrusting into you, simply just trying to get a quick quickie in as you curled your fingers up.
It didn’t do anything. Your fingers were barely even long enough to graze your G-spot, let alone even fill you up as well as Andrew’s fingers did.
You resorted to plan B.
You reached into the bottom of your nightstand and pulled out a dildo. It was a silicone replica of Andrew’s cock that you and him made together on their three-year anniversary.
You grabbed some strawberry lube and lathered it on your palm, rubbing it up and down the cold silicone replica. You wished it was Andrew’s cock, longing for the warmth in your palm, the feeling of his pulse throbbing between your fingers as you'd jerk him closer and closer to release, his tip turning a pretty red before shooting white blanks.
Once you were satisfied with the lube dripping down the purple silicone, you had the tip play with your hole, imagining it was Andrew rubbing his cock up and down your slit, putting his tip in before chuckling and removing it, leaving you wanting more.
Luckily, you could decide your own pace as you inserted the full length into your pussy, shuddering at the cold silicone. It was nowhere near warm as Andrew’s was, but you couldn’t be picky with him gone.
You closed your eyes, imagining Andrew’s voice ringing through your ears as you moved the dildo in and out, trying to match that same pace Andrew would go.
Your phone rang, ruining the fantasy as you opened your eyes with a frustrated groan. You looked over at the small device resting on your nightstand, before realizing it was Andrew’s contact.
You immediately stopped what you were doing, before getting an idea. You answered the phone, moving the dildo slowly in and out of yourself, almost moaning at just the sound of his voice.
“Hey, baby.” Andrew hummed, a hint of sleep on his voice as he spoke. “What are you doing still up? You know it’s like midnight where you are right now?”
“I can’t sleep without you.” You muttered, breathless as you held yourself back from speeding up the dildo’s pace so you wouldn’t get caught.
“I know… I miss you.” Andrew sighed, his deep raspy voice playing out in your ears.
You put the phone on speaker so you could place it down on your pillow, leaning back and closing your eyes as the dildo bottomed out, before your wrist pulled it back only to slowly have it fill you up again.
“I miss you too…” You whimpered on accident.
“You okay?” Andrew questioned—you could practically just see the smile on his face.
“I just want you to come home soon…” you spoke, your body shivering as you felt a slight pang of guilt for using his voice to get yourself off.
“Yeah?” he hummed. “I can’t wait to come back home. It’s real boring over here, talking about mundane stuff like ‘how’s work?’ or ‘when are you gonna get married?’” Andrew spoke, chuckling. “But you’d like that? Wouldn’t you?”
You quickly nodded, a low giggle escaping your lips as you smiled. “O-of course I’d like that…” you breathed out. “B-been waiting… for that.” You muttered.
“Yeah? A nice ring for you? I can watch as that ring sparkles while you’re shoving your fingers in your pussy.”
You quickly stopped the dildo’s movements, shocked.
“Or maybe see your hand wrapped around my cock pumping it. But I always do like holding your hands while I fuck you.” Andrew purred.
You sat up, confused. You looked around the room for a second, wondering if Andrew was here or if you were just hearing things.
“W-what?” you questioned, your voice a bit unsteady.
“I could hear your pussy crying for me. Sounds like you’re using that dildo; your fingers are always sloppy and out of rhythm…” Andrew smiled.
“I-I…” you stammered, your face flush as you were embarrassed from being caught. “I’m sorry.”
“You can make it up to me by continuing.” Andrew hummed.
“But—“
“Don’t get shy on me now, baby. It’s not like I can see you.” Andrew chuckled, surely a smug smirk on his face. “C’mon, now. All you gotta do is fuck yourself for me… Surely you can at least do that?”
It sounded like he was mocking or even possibly degrading you, but knowing he wanted you too—wanted to hear your cries and moans—really made you excited.
“Mmm…” you breathed out, re-inserting the dildo back into your hole. “O-okay…”
“Put her on the phone.” Andrew demanded, her being your pussy.
You listened, leaning back on your pillow and placing the phone right next to your hip, slowly pushing the dildo in and out.
“Fuck yourself faster; I wanna hear her.” Andrew spoke.
You whined, closing your eyes to focus on his voice, listening to Andrew’s voice.
There was a spitting sound on the other line, before a plap! sound, a low moan from Andrew. You didn’t even know when Andrew had begun pleasing himself, but all you could hear were the wet squelches of lotion he used as he fucked his own fist to the rhythm of your pussy crying out around the dildo.
“Doesn’t feel as good as your cock, Andrew…” You whimpered, panting, feeling an orgasm building up the more you were exposed to Andrew’s low moans and deep groans.
“Oh. I know, baby.” Andrew chuckled, almost cockily as he talked you through it. “Just keep going, baby. You’ll have my cock tomorrow when I come home…” Andrew mumbled, moving his hand up and down his shaft. “Keep fucking yourself for me.”
You let out a shaky breath, a twitch in your thigh as you bit your lip, desperate to keep quiet so the neighbors couldn’t hear.
“Let me hear your pretty moans, baby. I need to at least hear you to get off…” Andrew spoke, his voice airy. “I need a part of you to come, baby.”
“Andrew…” you whimpered, shivering as you started taking shorter breaths, your chest feeling heavier and heavier.
“Good girl… Fuck yourself faster for me.” Andrew purred, wanting to give you some positive reinforcement for the noise.
“Fuck… Andrew. I-I think I’m gonna come…” you panted, your other hand coming to your clit and rubbing quick circles as you sloppily moved the dildo in and out of you.
“Y-you just do what you need to do to make you come, baby.” Andrew spoke, letting out a breathless sigh, his stutter giving away that he was close too.
“I-I'm coming!” you gasped.
Your thighs twitching as your fingers grew sloppy on your clit. Your pussy clenched around the dildo, weeping as it didn’t have Andrew’s cum to milk.
Your thighs and back were drenched in sweat, the feeling uncomfortable as you spread your legs, feeling them unstick from the bedsheets. Some strands of hair covered your face—some even in your mouth as you just realized, your slick-covered hand moving the hair away.
“Andrew…” you whimpered, listening to Andrew’s voice, pressing your ear against the phone just to better hear any little noise he made.
“F-fuck! Fuck! (Y/N)!” Andrew hissed, his voice sounding muffled on the other line.
The hem of his shirt was being held in his mouth to silence his moans. He groaned as his cock spurted white globs, dirtying his hand and stomach.
You could almost cry at the loss, wishing you were there to lap up his cum with your mouth—even better, if you were there, it would’ve never left your pussy.
“Hah… ah…” Andrew panted, catching his breath as he closed his eyes, working his way through the aftershocks of his release.
Andrew opened his eyes and looked at his hand, letting out a sigh at the mess before getting an idea.
“(Y/N), baby. You still with me?” he hummed.
“Mm… yeah?” You nodded, listening intently to whatever he had to say.
“Turn on FaceTime for me.”
Kinkmas five: Sex in the Snow
You didn't know that challenging Andrew to an innocent snowball fight would end up with him balls deep into your pussy outside.
All you wanted was to go outside and play with your dear boyfriend after seeing on the news it would snow. You even set an alarm to wake up early so all the snow wouldn't melt! You begged and begged your boyfriend to get up out of your shared bed—which was a pretty hefty feat considering he usually woke up at 2 PM.
All dressed up in your shirt, jacket, and pants (very underdressed for 10 degrees outside, but you knew that), you were able to drag your boyfriend out into the snow. All it took was a few snowballs to the face to wake him up and get him irritated enough to start chasing you with a mega snowball he composed, large enough to be the head of a snowman.
You let out a thrilled shriek, running away from him; but you should know by now that you can never outrun your boyfriend, he is bigger and stronger than you after all!
He managed to catch up with you, knocking you to the ground by throwing the colossal snowball at your back. Tumbling down in the snow, it cushioned your fall as you laughed.
"Andrew!" you giggled, your cheeks hurting from the cold air nipping at your exposed skin. "It's cold!"
Andrew looked down at you with a smile. He crouched down to roll you over on your back, his long legs in between yours. He couldn't help but admire that bright smile on your face, rivaling the early sun reflecting off the snow. Your now messy and wet hair stuck to your face, mini icicles forming on your eyelashes, but you looked nothing short from an ice goddess.
He couldn't help but pressed his gloved hands onto your cold cheeks, leaning in and kissing your frozen lips with his.
Your eyes widened, surprised at the sudden affection, but you were always a sucker for him as you closed your eyes and enjoyed the warmth of his kiss. You enjoyed his warm breath mingling with yours to fight the cold air surrounding you both. You enjoyed his lips pressed against yours in a delightful bliss. You enjoyed his tongue sliding into your mouth with a murmured excuse of "Let me warm ya up."
His tongue diligently and effortlessly explored your mouth, your face heating up at the close proximity of his as his tongue just went deeper down your throat. You let out a small whine, remembering you were both still in public as you tried to pull away. Your lips only part for a second before Andrew's gloved hand went to the back of your head, his lips reattached to yours, pushing you back in the snow but with Andrew's hand protecting your scalp from the cold. His tongue re-entered your mouth, swirling around your own hot muscle before sucking on it.
His mouth parted from yours, kissing down your jaw before going to your exposed neck. He left hot kisses as his hands unzipped your jacket, grabbing the hem of your shirt.
"Andrew!" you gasped, feeling the cold invade your skin as he lifted the shirt above your stomach. "We're in public!"
"So? Nobody's around..." he muttered.
It's not like your boyfriend would ever allow anyone else to sneak a peek at you. Whenever you wore a skirt in public and dropped your lipgloss tube, he always made sure to stand behind you to block any perv from looking up your skirt (and steal the view for himself). Besides, Andrew would go to the point of murder to keep you safe, no doubt about it.
"You didn't give me my morning quickie today so you could run outside and play. Let me have this." He muttered.
He pressed a quick peck to your lips before your shirt went over your chest. In your haste to come outside, you didn't bother wearing a bra, a factor Andrew took to his advantage as his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, sucking on it as if he was expecting milk to dribble out. His hand kneaded and tweaked at your other nipple, feeling it harden due to the harsh winter breeze.
Your breath came out in icy smoke as you moaned, squirming underneath your lover as you were pinned to the ground.
You figured he wanted to be quick so nobody in the park could walk by and see. As his mouth switched to your other nipple, his free hand that wasn't playing with your nipple was buckling his pants and pulling down his boxers enough to reveal his swollen cock.
"Fuck, that's cold!" Andrew shivered, a violent spike of ice rushing up his back as he visibly shook.
You let out a giggle, deciding it would be the perfect opportunity to tease him.
"The cold won't bother you and little Andy's performance, right?" you smirked, remembering reading online that male genitalia shrunk in the cold.
"Little?" Andrew questioned, visibly annoyed at your smartass comment.
His hands went to pull down your pants and panties, not bothering to unbutton them as he opted to simply tug them down like an animal in his haste.
"I'll show you little..." he muttered, whether to you or himself, you don't know. "I just need to get warmed up is all; and what better way is there other than your warm cunt?"
He ripped his glove off his hand with his grabbed some snow and pressed it onto your pussy, causing you to violently squirm under him and yelp.
"Andrew! What was that for?" you whined as the snow melted into cold water on your throbbing clit.
"Positive punishment." Andrew smirked.
"Water does not work like lube!" you whimpered, feeling his warm hands rub the cold water up and down your slit.
"Cry about it." Andrew shrugged, a smirk on his face as he grabbed a glob of fresh snow, before sticking it and two of his fingers into your pussy.
Another surprised cry left your lips, squirming at the weird sensation. The feeling of Andrew's warm hands mixed with the snow melting in your hot cunt almost made you cry, giving you a mental whiplash with your thermoreceptor trying to decipher if it was hot or cold... but it felt oddly good as his fingers kept fucking in and out of your pussy quickly.
He had enough of teasing you, wanting to make this quick as you both were still out in the open. His slick-covered hand went to his cock, giving it a few pumps and shivering at the cold around him, before sticking it into your cunt.
"Ohhh..." he let out a relaxed groan, closing his eyes. "Fuck, your pussy feels so warm."
You couldn't respond back as he started to thrust in and out of you, already starting at a faster than normal pace. Quick ah, ah, ah's left your lips along with moans as your eyes squirmed shut, your head falling back on the gloved hand Andrew was still using to help protect your scalp from the cold.
His balls slapped against your clit, eliciting sharp gasps and whines from you, his dick rubbing your tight inner walls and hitting that sweet spot just right to have you seeing a color whiter than snow.
Every now and then, his lips would sloppy kiss yours, before his head retreated into the crook of your neck, his warm breath heating the skin there as your back continuously rubbed against the snow. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders and brought him in close, hugging him to protect you from the cold (and have his cock bury deeper into your wet pussy).
You're surprised that there isn't a hole in the snow from how heated he was roughly fucking you into the snow. It felt like utter bliss having his hips thrust into yours as deep as he could go, not being able to separate from you for more than a second as he quickly sought back out for your warmth.
Andrew's free hand kissed your clit, his fingers now cold after their prolonged exposure out in the snow as he rubbed quick circles around your clit to make you come. You couldn't help but come quickly after a few more thrusts, feeling Andrew rotating between kissing and groaning into your neck before his hips stuttered, pouring out all of his cum into your warm and awaiting pussy.
You both stopped to take some breaths, calming down after your climax. Now that you were done passionately dirtily making love, the freezing cold truly set in.
"Shit... Let's go inside now." Andrew groaned.
You had no complaints, not after being fucked so good. Your legs felt too wobbly to try running around in the snow again, so you let him pull out of you, watching his cum fall into the snow and camouflage with it.
Andrew pulled back up your pants and re-buttoned his. He helped you off the ground and picked you up like the gentleman he is.
"Hey, look." Andrew spoke. "We made a snow angel." He snickered dirtily, bringing your attention to the holes in the snow your bodies made while Andrew was warming your insides with his cock.
Maybe not so much of a gentleman...
Kinkmas six: Sex in a fitting room
Christmas was coming up, and that meant shopping for presents. It’s hard to try and come up with gifts as you get older.
Usually you’d buy a nice smelling candle for someone and call it a day, but you’re old enough to where candles don’t work as presents anymore. Your extended family has little ones now, and you can’t trust those kids with not eating cookie scented wax.
At least Andrew was there to keep you company, but he wasn’t no better when it came to Christmas presents, usually buying mugs that said things such as “best mom, best dad, best sister, best brother in law,” those cliche 15 buck mugs.
You two weren’t really the best shoppers, huh?
It’s how you found yourself at the mall, trying to find gifts for the kids that were actually worth it. A kid won’t care about a damn mug, and they especially cannot play with fire while trying to light a candle. The best option is clothes; helps with the parents bank account and doesn’t drive them insane with the noise.
Sure, the kid might not care too much, but they’re three, there’s not too much they like other than cartoons and sweets.
“Hm. Andrew, what do you think?” you questioned, holding up a black and red flanneled dress.
It was pretty cute for the kid. It’s nice colors, soft quality (you made sure, thanks to your sensitive skin and fabric tastes), and it doesn’t have cringy words like "Daddy’s girl" or a weird hole in the back showing the kids skin.
Seriously, what’s with these stores and their adult choices for kids? Mini bikinis for a three year old? Either the clothing companies are ran by pedophiles or “independent moms who want their kids to express their interests.” They’re three Susan, they’re in their dinosaur phase and will secretly never grow out of it. Get real.
“Better than what most of these are…” Andrew sighed. “I mean, seriously. I get the stereotype that girls wear pink, but this is too much. It feels like I’m in a Barbie store.” Andrew grimaced.
“And now you see why I steal your clothes.” You hummed, ignoring the small (yet playful) glare Andrew sent your way.
“I should steal your clothes.” Andrew huffed.
“You can’t fit in a bra.” You smirked. “But feel free to try the panties.”
“You’re gross.” Andrew grimaced, annoyed. “Don’t say that when we’re in a kids clothes section shopping for Ashley’s kids…”
“Good point.” You hummed, realizing how it sounded.
You grabbed a pair of black leggings and threw it into the small basket you were holding. It’s always good to have a kid wear leggings under their dress, especially because they’re in the phase to pull it up any chance they get (kids just do that cause they’re bored or they’re playing with the fabric).
“Alright… we got the clothes.” You spoke. “Should we get a toy too? The clothes can be a gift for the parents, and the toy can be a gift for the kid?”
You turned to look back at Andrew, but he wasn’t there.
“Andrew?” you questioned, confused as you looked around.
Damn it, did you wander too far again? You had a bad habit of getting distracted and wandering away from Andrew. It always makes him worried when he doesn’t know where you are.
Wait, you’ve still been in the same damn aisle this whole time. Andrew was the one that ran off this time.
“This is his blood niece, not mine.” You grumbled, annoyed.
You walked around the store, before finding Andrew at the woman’s lingerie.
If you didn’t know who he was, you’d assume the dude was checking out the girls in the panty photos, but you recognize that dark and moody man as your boyfriend.
“Did you take me seriously on wearing panties?” you smirked, reuniting with him.
Andrew sent a quick glare at you, muttering for you to “shut up.”
He had some things bunched up in his hands, immediately hiding them behind his back when you tried to peek.
“Hey…” You frowned, trying to peek behind him. “What’s yours is mine. Let me see!”
“It’s not mine yet, I haven’t bought it!” Andrew retorted, guarding the fabrics with his life.
“Show me your fetish!” you spoke stubbornly.
“I told you I’m not interested in your perverse male crossdressing of me!” Andrew hissed, quickly drawing his boundaries on the matter.
“I’m gonna marry you one day; let me see your secrets!” you started to whine, your curiosity eating you alive now.
You’ve never tried lingerie with Andrew before. He’s a simple man with simple pleasures, he doesn’t need lewd clothing to be enticed by you; your Sunday morning clothes are enough to get him going.
“Just wait. I could be shopping for your Christmas presents.” Andrew huffed.
“More like your Christmas presents.” You frowned.
“Just c’mere.” Andrew sighed, giving in as he grabbed your hip.
He guided you to the back where the dressing rooms were, not bothering to wait for an employee to give them a room as he dragged you into a fitting room.
“Strip.” He spoke.
“Right now?” you sighed, annoyed.
“Yes. Let me see how you look in this one.” Andrew pulled one of the pieces of attire from behind his back, revealing a pretty maroon brown shade, a hint of purple in the mix.
“Okay…” you muttered, hesitantly looking at him before giving into his request and removing your clothes.
Andrew smirked, sitting down on the fitting room’s bench and enjoying the show of your bare skin, a perverse glint in his eyes as he held no shame in eyeing you up like meat. It would make you feel self-conscious if you weren’t aware of how bad he wanted you (which, judging by the small twitch in his cock, he definitely did).
You put on the set of lingerie. It was a teddy bodysuit lingerie, the G-string tight (and let’s be honest, annoying) between your buttocks. You sent a glare to Andrew, pouting.
“Are you mocking me with this?” you frowned.
“No, baby.” He chuckled, grabbing your hips and sitting you down onto his thigh. “Just admiring you and your body.” He smirked.
He grabbed the small G-string and pulling it, before letting it go and hitting you. You’re lucky it’s satin fabric, otherwise it probably would’ve hurt.
At least it’s not lace, that’s really uncomfortable.
“Eh, it’s okay. But definitely not what I was expecting.” Andrew hummed.
“Are you saying I look bad in it?” you questioned.
“I’m saying it looks bad on you. It doesn’t flatter you. A disgrace the designer made.” Andrew spoke, grabbing the small string sleeve on your shoulder and sliding it off. “Now, take it off. I think I have something better for you.”
What a smooth talker… blaming the lingerie for making you look bad, not you looking bad in the lingerie. Obviously, he has experience with not accidentally upsetting you with his wrongly phrased words.
You allowed him to strip the clothing off you, your buttocks thankful as it didn’t have something wedged between its cheeks—well, until Andrew’s hard on instead took its place, his pants straining against you.
“I can feel you.” You spoke, looking back at him.
“Thanks.” Andrew smiled, proud of his size.
You rolled your eyes, a poorly hidden smile breaking out on your lips just as he grabbed another piece.
This one was an emerald green, an obvious comparison to his eyes; predictable and cheesy, he was.
The lingerie was another teddy, lace exterior with soft cotton on the inside. It hugged your hips and torso, pushing up your breasts. The sleeves were once again string, but at least it wasn’t giving you a wedgie as it was cheeky panties instead.
There were garter belts that hugged your thighs tightly, your muffin tops pouring out of the tight fabric like risen dough fresh from the oven.
Andrew sat you back onto his thigh, your legs straddling his lean yet toned thigh. One of his hands went to your thigh, unapologetically squeezing the soft flesh like a stimming toy, while his other hand came up to your hair.
“I wish you wore your hair bow today…” he sighed. “It’d match this so well…” he muttered, resting his chin on your shoulder.
His head dipped down to your neck, pressing soft kisses, before he started to bounce his leg.
A soft gasp escaped your mouth, zipping your lips as you felt your clit vibrate against his thigh. His foot tapped the ground, your breasts bouncing up and down from the movement as his hands moved to your chest, squeezing what he can hold. His hands kept you from falling off his leg as he started to speed up, small whines and moans pouring out of your lips.
“A-Andrew, we shouldn’t. I’m dirtying the lingerie…” you whimpered, but you couldn’t help looking down at his leg between your thighs, watching as your clothed crotch rubbed against his grey pants.
“I like it on you. I’m buying it.” He spoke.
“How much is it?” you questioned, tilting your head back to look at his eyes.
“Don’t worry about it.” He hummed, one of his hands moving from your chest to grab your chin, forcing your head to look back at the wall.
His hand moved from your chin down to your neck, a gentle squeeze that caused a whine to escape your lips. A grin painted its way onto his face as he tightened his grip just enough to make you feel a little lightheaded, his mouth coming down to your collarbone to bite on it.
“So pretty…” he muttered, smiling as his canines dug into your soft skin.
“Ow…” You whimpered, squeezing your eyes closed.
He combated your pain by bouncing his leg harder, pressed his heel on the ground and rotating his ankle so his whole leg would move in circles, creating circles onto your clit that caused an “Ah!” to leave your lips.
Your head fell back onto his shoulder, your eyes dizzy as his leg toyed with your little bundle of nerves, your clit throbbing as it wiggled under the friction. You could feel his hips thrusting up, his cock pressing against your ass, low pants tumbling out of his lips as he huffed and puffed against your neck.
The hands on your breasts moved to your nipples, gently pinching and squeezing at them, causing you to squeeze and arch your back into his cock, whining at the added stimulation.
Your moans started to raise in volume, squeezing your eyes shut in preparation as a coil in your stomach was about to snap.
Only for Andrew’s hands to go to your hips, lifting you up off him.
“W-wha? An…Andrew?” you panted, breathing heavily as you turned your head back to him, confused.
Your nipples felt sore from his teasing and your legs were shaking, your clit throbbing with pain from your denied orgasm.
“Well? There’s still one more piece.” Andrew spoke, an airy tone in his voice signaling he was enjoying earlier just as much, having your ass grind down into his dick. “Come on. Try it.”
He pulled a white lingerie hiding behind him, cheekily smiling as he showed you it.
It was white babydoll lingerie, lace on the exterior and (once more) cotton on the interior. At least Andrew wanted you comfortable, you noted as you shivered at the feeling of removing the soaked emerald lingerie off you, exposing yourself to the cold.
The new lingerie had a translucent, babydoll skirt that hung over the cheeky, crotchless panties, leaving your arousal exposed and dripping down your legs as your put it on. It had over-the-shoulder translucent sleeves, and a classic push up bra built in, along with white garter belts to match.
It felt like lingerie you would wear on your wedding night, the white symbolizing your purity you were going to get rid of to your husband.
“I take it back. You should’ve definitely wore your hair bow with this one.” Andrew smiled, admiring you like you were his newly wedded bride.
Andrew stood up from the bench, picking it up and moving it to the door, that was he was sitting right in front of the fitting room’s mirror. He grabbed your waist and he guided you to the position he wanted. You were sitting down between his legs, your back pressed against his chest.
Andrew’s legs wrapped around yours, his ankles holding yours hostage as he spread your legs open and forced them to stay open using his own. One of his hands grabbed your chin again and tilted your head to the side, the other hand moving down to the hole in your lingerie.
His index finger slid up and down your slit with ease thanks to your arousal lubricating the area. His middle and ring finger nudged at your entrance, before sliding right in.
A slow moan escaped your lips, before it grew in volume as his fingers wasted no time getting to the good part, curling up to hit that patchy spot in your pussy that made your clit scream.
His fingers mercilessly abused your G-spot, all while he gently kissed up and down your neck, mumbling praises about “how good you take him” and “how pretty you were trying to keep quiet.”
His fingers pounded that spot inside you, your head falling back to his chest as your shoulders shook and heaved, taking every ounce of your body to keep quiet, begging that nobody nearby could hear your loud pants or the soft, dirty squelching coming from your pussy as it gripped onto Andrew’s fingers desperately.
Andrew removed his fingers from your pussy, taking them to his mouth to have a taste. He plopped them onto his tongue, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked on your taste like it was a lollipop.
“I can never get over how good you taste…” he muttered, popping his fingers out his mouth, licking his lips to savor the taste. “When we get home I want you riding my face.”
He slapped your thigh, prompting you to jump up from your seat. Andrew stood up with you, the sound of his belt being undone as he took his cock out from his boxers.
His hand grabbed yours, eloping behind you and pressing your hand against the wall, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. It was embarrassing, seeing your messy hair and the hickeys and bite marks Andrew left on your neck and collarbone; but it was arousing seeing Andrew’s eyes focused on yours through the mirror, not bothering to watch as he slid his leaking mushroom tip—purple and drooling with pre-cum—into your prepped pussy.
A relieved sigh escaped his lips as you groaned at the familiar intrusion, feeling his pelvis meet your skin, bottoming out to his balls inside you.
“Focus on your pretty face, baby. I want you to love what I love.” Andrew whispered in your ear, smiling as his head burrowed into the crook of your neck, both of his hands grabbing your hips and forcing them back into his.
He started at a nice pace, a relaxing rhythm that caused low sighs and hums to escape your mouth, your eyes drooping as your mind descended into pleasurable bliss—that was until his arm wrapped around your abdomen, bending you over as his pace became rougher.
You had to hold your arms on the walls so you can stabilize yourself from Andrew’s harsh thrusts, loud plap! plap! plap!'s echoing throughout the fitting room.
It was like he was trying to get caught. Like the idea of someone seeing him balls deep inside you—making your eyes roll back to your skull—turned him on.
His cock throbbed as his hips slapped the back of your thighs and ass, leaving mean strawberry marks as his other arm joined his against your abdomen.
He hunched over more, forcing you to bend and take his weight above you as he used your pussy to pound into as he pleased. The angle of his thrusts like this, and his arms tightly squeezing your abdomen, made you cry out in pleasure, your hands scratching down the walls as you watched you lose yourself in the mirror.
Your eyes glazed over as you made eye contact with Andrew—who was still looking at you. His eyes had a dark cloud over them, small huffs and groans tumbling out of his mouth as he viciously thrusted into you like you were being punished. You cried out, wondering what you did that set him off.
Was this punishment for teasing him earlier?
There was a loud knock on the dressing room, the person’s words unintelligible. You could practically feel yourself die inside, utterly embarrassed as you forgot you were still in public.
“Occupied!” Andrew gruffed, speaking up through the wet slaps of his balls against your pussy.
Your knees felt like collapsing, buckling under you as your height dropped. Andrew quickly picked you back up, grabbing the bench from behind and moving it in front of you. He bent you over it, your stomach pressed against the cold wood as his hand found its way to your hair, forcing your head up to look at your reflection as you could only accept watching you come undone around his cock.
His free hand made home on your clit, circling it mercilessly. Another loud moan tumbling out of your lips, before you whined.
“Andrew! Andrew! Andrew! Coming! I’m coming!”
Your body shook as your nervous system was overtaken with ecstasy, feeling as Andrew drained his balls into your awaiting pussy that milked him of everything he’s worth.
“Good girl.” Andrew muttered, panting as he pressed a sloppy kiss to your neck.
Andrew licked his lips, getting down on his knees behind you, preparing for his well-deserved meal before another loud knock echoed.
“Get out of there!” a female spoke.
“Oh my god.” Andrew muttered, rolling his eyes, annoyed. “Terrible customer service around here. Who rushes their customers?”
You felt humiliated as you took off your lingerie and quickly changed into your normal clothes. Andrew unlocked the door, irritated he as held your basket of items.
“Can we buy these before you kick us out?”
Kinkmas seven: Food Play
You had cookies cooling on the counter, the smell of gingerbread wafting in the air as you pumped the icing for the cookies.
Andrew sat in a chair, withering and squirming as you had him tied by some Christmas lights, your hands milking his cock over and over again.
“Ah! Fuck! Ah! Baby, please!” Andrew sobbed, some tears in his eyes as his thighs shook profusely.
“Still not enough icing…” You muttered, looking at the bowl of icing, it was only about 4 tablespoons, not enough for a whole batch of gingerbread cookies.
“Please. I need a break.” Andrew begged.
Even though he was asking for a break, his hips still bucked up, chasing the pleasure coming from your hands squeezing his cock.
You sat on the ground in front of him, on your knees are your hands moved up and down his dick quickly, your hands squeezing his shaft.
“Please. Please.” He pleaded, his head thrown back on the chair, panting as a string of drool dripped down his chin and jaw, landing on his shirt that was raised up to his chest.
His abdomen shrunk and expanded, his abs shaking and cramped from how many times they clenched to come. His hands tied behind his back, restrained by Christmas lights that dug into his skin every time he tried to move, no doubt leaving dull bruises for later.
“Keeping making the icing.” You spoke, unfazed by his begging as one of your fingers played with the slit on his big mushroom tip.
The head of his cock oozed with pre-cum, practically covering his whole length. His tip was purple, sore and overstimulated, but that didn’t stop you from milking him of all he’s worth, ignoring his begging for a break as you squeezed the head.
It felt like hell and heaven for Andrew, closing his eyes to focus the sensation even more. The pain of his over-milked cock filled with the thick pleasure in his stomach left his head dizzy and vision spinning, wondering what he did to deserve this treatment and how the hell he can get it again in the future.
You stood up from the ground, confusing Andrew as he opened his eyes. You pulled down your panties, sitting on Andrew’s lap and grabbing his dick, lining it up to your pussy before sinking down on him.
“Ah!” Andrew gasped, his voice whiny as his hips unconsciously bucked up to meet your welcoming warmth.
Andrew would’ve grabbed your hips to stop you if he wasn’t tied up, but he couldn’t, so he was just forced to sit back and let you bounce on his cock.
“Oh my f-fucking god…” Andrew moaned, his eyes threatening to roll back in his skull. “Y-you’re so fucking perfect. S-so fucking perfect.”
His hips desperately thrusted up into you, heavy pants and whiny moans escaping his lips. It was hot seeing a moody, broody man like Andrew reduced to a puddle of mush, his face bright red from his usually pale white, watching your pussy take him in and push him out, only before pulling back in.
“I-I’m gonna come.” Andrew rasped out, only after a few bounces from you.
“You’re already gonna come, pretty boy?” you smiled, giggling.
Usually that nickname would make him annoyed at you, but there was truly no other words to describe him as other than a pretty boy. With his flushed, pale skin. The heavy bags under his eyes paired with the piercing green in his crying eyes. The slimness of his collar bone marked with your bites and lipgloss marks. The red—almost desperate purple—color of his flushed, throbbing cock in your pussy.
You continued riding him despite his whiny cries of it being “too much” and how he “can’t come anymore.”
His jaw dropped as his thrusting stuttered, a loud cry escaping his mouth as his whole body violently convulsed, his shoulders shivering as his feet repeatedly hit the ground like a rabbit trying to run from the hungry wolf.
His cock twitched inside of you as his already-empty balls worked overtime to try and produce more cum for you to take.
His glazed-over eyes looked at the ceiling, more tears falling down his face as his body finally stopping jerking, although he still shook. You wiped a bead of sweat off his face, pressing a soft and almost apologetic kiss on his lips, before sitting up off his cock.
A strained whimper left his lips as your warm heat left him. You looked at the small amount of cum between your legs, letting out a disappointed sigh.
“Andrew. This isn’t enough for the whole batch.” You frowned.
“I-I’m —hic— sorry. So fucking s-sorry…” He whimpered, teary eyes desperately trying to open his eyes and keep them on your face.
You clicked your tongue, disappointed as you wiped the cum off your pussy and added it to the bowl of cum. You mixed it in with a scoop of icing, watching it all combine.
You grabbed a spoon and spread the mixture out on one of the now-cooled cookies, spreading the icing evenly onto the gingerbread. You grabbed the cookie and took a bite, enjoying the salty, sweet, gingery taste of the sweet.
“Andrew.” You spoke, holding the cookie up to his shivering lips. “Come on, eat up. You need energy for more. There’s still more cookies to ice…”
Kinkmas eight: Female Overstimulation
It had been your fault for those cookies, tying him down to that chair and torturing (pleasing) him like that.
You should’ve known he would’ve sought out vengeance; it wasn’t like Andrew to just let your bratty behavior go unpunished. It was your fault for dropping your guard after a tiring shift, opening your front door only to be dragged to the bedroom by your boyfriend.
Andrew had your hands bound with a silk ribbon you’ve used in the past for BDSM. Of course he’d tie you up, he couldn’t have your hands trying to fight and push him away when the pleasure became too much.
The worst part was it wasn’t even his hands touching you. His hands were too busy playing some YouTube video you couldn’t give a damn to identity as you laid next to him, a vibrator stick to your clit, leaving you defenseless as you sobbed into his chest.
One hand held his phone while the other gently brushed his fingers through you hair, the affectionate act almost mocking you as he neglected you of his cock.
Another violent surge of pleasure shot through you, burying your head deeper into his chest as you cried, feeling your poor, used clit throb again.
His fingers didn’t stop brushing through your hair, as if reassuring you despite being the one to put yourself in this situation.
You sobbed as another wave of pleasurable pain wrecked your clit, the stimulation almost unbearable as you were forced to be overstimulated once more.
“Please. Sorry. Sorry.” You cried, looking up to meet his eyes, big fat tears in your own as you pleaded at him.
He ignored you, his hands still in your hair as he continued watching his video. You would assume he’d be immune to your pleads and tired moans if you weren’t aware of his hard cock straining through his jeans.
The YouTube video finally ended and Andrew turned off his phone. You looked up at him, hopeful to finally have his cock buried inside you, even if you were sensitive.
“You ready to behave?” Andrew inquired.
“Y-yes! I am!” you rasped, your voice sore from crying and moaning.
“Do you want my cock now?” Andrew questioned, smiling.
“Please, yes!” you nodded your head, your heart racing as it felt like a dream come true to finally have him inside you again.
He grinned, a grin too big to let you know he was planning something. He leaned over and opened the nightstand drawer, grabbing a dildo—the replica of Andrew’s dick.
Your smile fell, all your hope shattered instantly upon seeing that dildo.
“W-what? But y-you said…” Your voice sounded weak, like a child seeing their ice cream fall, the vibrator against your clit already making your voice sound pathetic as it is.
“Yeah. My cock. My cock replica.” Andrew smiled, a evil smirk on his face. “It’s still my dick, after all. Are you being picky?”
“W-well, I m-mean—“
“Do you not want it?” Andrew questioned.
The threat of losing the closest thing to Andrew’s cock actually terrified you. You quickly shook your head, afraid.
“N-o! Please, no! I’ll t-take it!” you responded quickly, desperate to not take away what was closes for what you could get.
You’d just have to suck it up—for now.
Andrew slapped the dildo against your already abused clit, pulling a whine from you. He rubbed the dildo up and down your entrance, lubing it up with your arousal before he pressed it into your pussy.
You let out a moan, closing your eyes. The dildo helped settle an ache that burned in your stomach—but it didn’t extinguish that fire in you.
No matter how many times you came from the vibrator sucking on your clit, or the dildo Andrew manually pounded into your cunt himself, it wasn’t enough to satisfy your need for him.
You were in no position to beg. Even if you were tired from coming and just wanted to be done with, it was like you couldn’t be satisfied until you at least had Andrew inside of you.
It was like you were conditioned to associate Andrew with pleasure and safety, mediocre vibrator and flimsy silicone dildos just didn’t do the trick. It didn’t take care of you and scratch that itch only Andrew could reach.
“P-please.” You pleaded, ready to beg and do whatever it takes to have Andrew take care of you himself. “I n-need your cock. Your real, t-throbbing cock attached to you. I need y-you to come inside me.” You begged, your voice dry from all your loud moans earlier.
Pride, ego, dignity, self-respect be damned; you’d probably go insane within the next ten minutes if you didn’t have Andrew’s cum dripping down your thighs.
“What a dirty mouth, pretty.” Andrew chuckled, smirking as his hand controlled the dildo going in and out of you. “It’s been awhile now… 40 minutes about…?” he hummed, looking at the clock. “Come one more time and maybe I’ll think about it.”
A frustrated whine escaped you, before Andrew’s free hand quickly tweaked at your nipple, gently pinching it.
“Ah. Watch your attitude. It’s what got you here in the first place.” He scolded.
You felt like you could cry, fed up and desperate while being full just at the same time. It was a frustrating edge teetering between “too much” and “too little.”
But Andrew just loved pushing you off that edge.
The dildo hit your sweet spot with scary accuracy; a spot Andrew had dedicated to memory. He felt like he’d be an incompetent loser if he couldn’t even please his woman—and by damn was Andrew anything other than incompetent.
A few more thrusts and you were seeing stars you didn’t want to see. Your pussy gripped tightly on a fake dick you didn’t want instead you. Your clit screamed and throbbed from a vibrator you really wanted off now as it shot painful, overstimulated shockwaves to your little bundle of nerves.
Andrew turned off the suctioning vibrator, placing it on the nightstand. He pulled out the dildo your pussy unconsciously kept clenching around, lifting it up to your mouth for a taste.
You knew what would please him, peeking your tongue out just slightly and sucking on the tip of Andrew’s fake cock, tasting the overly sweet arousal of yourself mixed with the dildo’s silicone taste.
It was always surprising how sweet you tasted, like sugary lemonade on a hot day, ready to quench your thirst and leave your tongue salivating for more and more.
Speaking of tongue salivating, Andrew was feeling pretty thirsty himself after seeing you squeeze the life out of the dildo, a loud moan escaping you as you came.
You could even formulate words, or even try to put up a fight as Andrew removed the dildo, tossing it somewhere on the bed as he grabbed your waist. He laid down on the bed, dragging your hips to his face and forcing you to face the wall.
His tongue licked a long stripe on your slit, a loud cry escaping you. If you weren’t tied up with ribbon, you would be gripping onto the headboard for dear life—but you weren’t, so you settled for resting your forehead on the cold wall and crying out for your neighbors to hear just on the other side of the wall.
You couldn’t beg Andrew to stop or keep going, to give you a break so you could regain your composure. You would’ve at least appreciated being gagged so you wouldn’t have an awkward conversation with the neighbors later at the mailbox about your private life (even if it wasn’t really private anymore).
Andrew’s tongue couldn’t help but explore your wet warmth, refusing to part as he licked and poked at every ridge, squish, and layer there was. He couldn’t help but flex his jaw and open wider, his hands grabbing onto your thighs tightly and pulling you down into his mouth.
A loud sob escaped your lips, your head softly hitting the wall. It felt like you were going mad. His tongue was driving you mad. You wanted to squirm and scream but you couldn’t control your vocals, and Andrew’s strong grip onto your thighs refused to even let them flex.
Curse him and his sleeper build. It wasn’t fair to be tall, broodingly hot, and strong; it might as well be a wet dream for girls like you.
Wet indeed, just like how Andrew’s hot muscle ventured your hot cave without any insecurity or concern, unwavering confidence as he explored your ocean like he hasn’t wadded in it before.
“Fucking hell… such a pretty pussy…” Andrew groaned, his mouth leaving your pussy, one of his hands coming to your clit to rub the swollen nub.
You let out an unintelligible sob, your hips forcing themselves to rock and chase that pleasure despite knowing it’ll hurt again from the overstimulation—but the promise of your sweet orgasm outweighed that concern as your clit rubbing his fingers.
“Taste so fucking good. I don’t need anything else in my life…” He groaned, his eyes drooped, dazed as he watched your overflowing arousal from your hands coat his fingers.
He slapped your clit, causing a yelp to leave you as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, savoring your taste, before working his lips back onto your lower ones.
He stuck his tongue back in your pussy, drool escaping his mouth as he unhinged his jaw to reach as deep as his tongue can go. He was a man with a mission as his hands grabbed your hips and forced you to grind on his face.
Your mouth fell open, your eyes practically rolling to your skull as you saw white? Or was it black? Whatever damn color of the rainbow it was, you couldn’t tell. You couldn’t bother to worry about the color when there was a flood of juices escaping your pussy with the force of a tsunami, squirting all over Andrew’s face and dripping down his neck.
You wanted to apologize, even though you knew it’d be fine with Andrew. You would’ve at least gave a warning if you could speak.
Andrew didn’t care about the mess, he just cared about cleaning it up at he lapped at your pussy and thighs like a dehydrated man.
“Fuck! Yeah! That’s more like it!” Andrew laughed, breathless and a new found rigor as he slapped your clit again, making sure there was no more juices you were trying to hold back from him as he grinned.
He sat you right up off his face without any struggle, having you straddle his lap while he untied the ribbon around your arms; a reward for squirting.
Once he got the ribbon off, he pushed you down on the bed, landing you on your back as he grabbed your legs. His hands wrapped around your thighs, holding them up to his hips since you had no strength to wrap them around his waist. You couldn’t do anything but moan and grip the bedsheets.
He thrusted his cock into you, causing you to see stars and wonder what you did to reach Heaven’s gates.
“Such a good girl coming that hard around my tongue. ‘Could feel the circulation practically stop.” Andrew chuckled darkly. “You can give me another one, right? Squirt on my cock, baby.”
A loud cry you didn’t know you could even make escaped, your ears ringing as your head rattled with the wet, sticky sounds of plap! plap! plap!'s bouncing around your eardrums.
Andrew’s arms wrapped around your knees and raised your legs to your shoulders, folding you into a mating press.
You couldn’t even last five minutes, especially not with how Andrew’s fingers started circling your clit, desperate to have you coming on his cock faster.
Andrew’s cock hit a spot that made you drool, something you shouldn’t even be surprised of by now as your back arched, creating a perfect angle for Andrew to reach said spot easier.
“Oh, fuck. Merry Christmas to me…” Andrew groaned, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he bit his bottom lip, holding his composure.
Andrew’s rested his sweaty forehead against yours, panting and smiling as you struggled to make eye contact with him without the possibly of your eyes rolling back.
He kissed you just as you came around his cock, his hot lips and the taste of you and him invading your mouth as he sucked on your tongue for being a good girl and squirting around his cock.
But even when you reached his orgasm, he hasn’t reached his yet, so he just kept plowing and plowing until he was satisfied with your mess—but that wouldn’t be until awhile…
Bonus! New Years Eve
“Andrew, where’s your girlfriend?” one of the elder neighbors asked.
It was New Years Eve. The whole apartment complex decided to get together to celebrate, all partying with chips and hotdogs and some poorly woman’s green bean casserole that was too soggy.
But the neighbor was right, you were nowhere to be seen. That is, if they don’t look until the table.
The table had a red protective cover that reached the floor, absolutely perfect for you to hide under.
Some would go under the table to eat twelve red grapes, but you had two red balls in your mouth instead to match the red sopping panties you had underneath your skirt.
“Bathroom.” Andrew spoke with great haste, his hand on resting on your head as your mouth slid up and down his length.
A small line of drool escaped his lips, one quickly disguised as he picked up his glass of juice (you insisted it’d be sparkling juice, but he couldn’t give a damn about alcohol while your mouth was insistent on milking his cock for a beverage instead).
His fingers were tangled snuggly in your hair, guiding your bobbing head up and down, up and down.
Sometimes you would lick a teasing circle around his cock’s slit and he’d have to cough so he could explain why his mouth kept suddenly opening and closing.
The clock was two minutes left, as a countdown on the TV in the living room played right next to the dining room.
Andrew could feel your hands taking ahold of his cock, taking the bottom of his shaft as your focused your mouth on his red, mushroom tip.
He could feel his eyes roll back, a pleased sigh escaping his mouth as he rested his head back on the chair.
“Are you okay, Andrew? Your face is pretty red.” One of the partygoers commented.
“H-hot as hell in here with all the food.” Andrew grumbled, a dazed expression on his face as he resisted the urge to moan as you sucked on his tip.
“You seem out of breath.” Someone commented.
“Asthma.” Andrew quickly shrugged, his hand in your hair going to the back of your head so he can shove you more down his length, a smirk on his face as he felt you silently gag around his cock before continuing, almost rolling his eyes back as the vibration almost caused him to come.
There was a minute left on the countdown before the New York ball drop in Times Square would drop, all while you started to lick and kiss his own balls, adoring and worshiping his cock with the same passion a faithful follower would to their god.
In your eyes, Andrew was your everything. Nothing mattered so long as you had your boyfriend with you, who you hoped would be your husband one day.
And Andrew wished that day was sooner, hearing wedding bells already as you fondled and massaged his balls like it was dough.
One of your hands went to your red panties, moving aside the cotton so you could rub at your clit the same way Andrew would, quick and teasing all with the accuracy and pressure to get you off quick so you’d be wet enough for him to slide into.
“Seriously, where is she? She’s gonna be the fireworks?” your elderly neighbor grumbled.
“Touching up her makeup.” Andrew groaned while you touched up his balls.
He probably sounded annoyed to his neighbors, but really he was just trying not to come from your mouth around his cock, bobbing your head again.
All the neighbors gathered around the TV, leaving you and Andrew alone in the dining room. The ball on the TV dropped as everyone cheered, giving him the perfect chance to speak.
“Good fucking girl. Take it, baby.” Andrew groaned, his eyes rolling back, a smile on his face.
Your throat swallowed around his cock. Your tongue lapping at his tip. You hummed around his length, enjoying the pleasure of tasting his cock. One of your hands toying with your clit while the other gently squeezed his balls. All of it at once was enough for him to have his hips ramming and stuttering up into your throat, no doubt leaving a bruise in the back of your throat as his cum painted your red walls white.
You kept sucking his member clean, refusing to stop until you felt him stop throbbing in your mouth. You finally pulled off him, tucking his cock back into his pants and giving him the chance to regain his composure as you got up from out the dining table.
You sat down onto his lap, giggling as you saw the dazed expression on his face. His eyes were all bright and droopy, a dumb smile on his face as some drool dripped down his chin.
You licked up the drool, before reaching his lips and kissing him. Andrew’s hand reached up to hold your cheek, kissing you as he tasted his taste in your mouth.
“I’ll return the favor later, baby…” he muttered, playfully tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.
You smiled, listening to the fireworks go off in the sky above you as your neighbors started filing back into the dining room.
“Oh. You’re back! You missed the fireworks.” The elder neighbor spoke, but you had your own white fireworks going off in your mouth so you weren't upset. “I thought you were fixing your makeup?”
Andrew looked at you, not even noticing your red face, your messy hair, your smudged red lipstick and weeping mascara. To him, you always looked beautiful, even with crying makeup.
“Sorry. I got carried away with kissing.” Andrew shrugged, indifferent as he lied.
“Happy New Years, hon.” You smiled, pecking Andrew’s cheek.
“Happy New Years.” Andrew hummed, before whispering into your year for only you to hear. “Hey… You had my dick in your mouth since last year…”
I have some major respect for smut writers. It can be hard trying to find all these different descriptions and poetic words to piece together just plain sex. Hopefully you guys enjoyed my amateurish writing. There will be more smut in the future as I work on my stories!
Happy very late holidays everyone!
Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!
Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for requests!
Authors note: Kinkmas Day 1!! Sorry it’s a little later but I got some overtime at work trying to prepare for this season. But anyways I hope you all enjoy!!
Also for all the ask in my inbox I will be getting to them! Some might be turned into post for this kinkmas depending on what they are but just be patient with me!
I’m also still in the process of getting my masterlist done but it will be finished soon!
The coffee machine hissed as Enji wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Three overnight villain takedowns had left his hero costume reeking of burnt fabric and exhaustion. He rolled his shoulders, listening to the satisfying crack of overworked joints—just another Wednesday.
You watched him from the hallway, bare feet silent against the tatami. His broad back stretched the thin fabric of his undershirt, steam still curling faintly from his fingertips. The sight punched warmth low in your belly. Twelve years married and the man still turned your knees to water.
The precinct had kept you both running ragged through December’s crime surge. Your own hero gear sat abandoned in the laundry pile, replaced by soft shorts and one of his stolen shirts. You fiddled with the gift bag hidden behind your back, teeth worrying your lip.
Down the hall, the bedroom door stood slightly ajar. Red lingerie peeked from beneath the duvet where you’d laid it out hours ago—ribbons, lace, and one very strategic hole near the thighs and another on the bum. You exhaled sharply through your nose. Either this would be the best idea you’d had all year, or you’d be sleeping on the couch.
Enji’s calloused fingers paused mid-reach for his coffee mug when your reflection appeared behind him in the microwave’s dark surface. His exhale sounded more like a growl as your nails traced the divot of his spine through damp cotton. "Shouldn’t you be asleep?" he rumbled, but his hips pressed back against you instinctively.
The gift bag crinkled as you slid it onto the counter beside his abandoned drink. "Got you something better than caffeine." His eyebrow arched when you nudged the tissue paper aside to reveal not presents, but the unmistakable gleam of lubricant nestled beside a pair of fur-lined cuffs.
You barely had time to register the heat of his quirk flaring before he’d pinned you against the fridge, mouth crashing into yours with the same reckless intensity as a building collapse. Twelve years of marriage meant he didn’t bother asking if you were sure—just bit down on your earlobe hard enough to make you gasp. Not like it mattered-you were always sure when it came to this man. "Show me," he demanded against your jaw. "Now."
He followed the trail of discarded clothes like breadcrumbs, stepping over your short near the genkan and nearly tripping on his own belt in the hallway. The bedroom smelled like sex already—your doing, from the scented candles burning low by the bedside. His pupils dilated at the sight of the lingerie splayed across the sheets, fingers tightening around your wrist as he dragged you toward it. "That," he growled, "is fucking obscene."
The fur cuffs came into play faster than you’d anticipated. One moment you were straddling his thighs, the next your wrists were locked tight behind your back with him murmuring "stay" against the hollow of your throat. His laugh vibrated through you when you shivered—low and thick like wildfire smoke. "Thought you wanted to be my present."
You didn’t get a chance to reply before his teeth found the ribbon cinched around your waist. The fabric tore with a sound that sent liquid heat straight to your dick. His breath hitched against your hipbone while he traced the exposed skin with his tongue. "Fuck scheduling," he muttered into the crease of your thigh. "I’m taking PTO."
His fingers curled around your cock—already straining against the lace—and squeezed just shy of painful. You arched into his grip with a whine, but he tutted, thumb swiping over the flushed head where precome beaded. "Pathetic," he murmured, though the way his own erection strained against his briefs betrayed his hunger. "Twitching like this when I’ve barely touched you." His tongue dragged a wet stripe up your shaft, savoring the way your hips jerked uncontrollably.
The contrast between his massive hands and your modest length sent a fresh wave of humiliation-cum-arousal through you. He chuckled darkly when you tried to press closer, easily holding you at bay with one palm splayed across your stomach. "No," he said, breath hot against your leaking tip. "You take what I give you." His mouth closed over you slowly, letting you feel every inch of stretch around him—too much teeth, too little mercy—until you sobbed.
He pulled off with an obscene pop, your cock glistening in the candlelight. "Look at you," he rasped, dragging the flat of his tongue along the prominent vein beneath. "Made for this." His fingers dipped lower, tracing the lace stretched tight over your balls before giving them a sharp tug. The pain-pleasure mix had you bucking against nothing, wrists straining against the cuffs as his other hand shoved two fingers past your lips. "Suck," he ordered. "Don’t pretend you’re good for anything else."
You barely registered the slick sound of him working himself with his free hand until his grip tightened in your hair. "Gonna fuck you raw on this cock," he growled, dragging you down to meet his gaze. The raw possessiveness in his eyes made your breath stutter. "Let everyone hear how well my husband takes it."
The first thrust punched the air from your lungs. Enji didn't bother with much prep—just spat and slightly lubed up his fingers and shoved them into you while his other hand kept your cock trapped against your stomach. The stretch burned even as your hips jerked greedily onto his digits. "Fuck—" you gasped, toes curling when his thumb pressed hard against your perineum.
He pulled out abruptly, leaving you clenching around nothing. The head of his cock nudged against your entrance, thick enough to make your thighs tremble. "Tell me," he demanded, grinding just enough to draw a whimper from your throat. His free hand wrapped around your neglected erection, squeezing just shy of painful. "Tell me how bad you need it."
Your answer dissolved into a moan as he sheathed himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke. The stretch bordered on unbearable, your body struggling to accommodate his girth while he murmured filthy praises against your shoulder. "Perfect little hole," he rasped, biting down as he bottomed out again. "Made for me."
His grip on your cock was relentless—thumb circling the swollen head while his fingers squeezed just tight enough to make your toes curl. Every drag of his hips pushed pathetic little noises from your throat, your smaller length twitching pathetically in his palm. "So fucking cute," he growled, twisting his wrist on an upstroke just to watch you writhe. "Bet you'd come untouched if I kept playing with this."
The obscene squelch of lube and flesh filled the room when he snapped his hips faster, your thighs trembling where they bracketed his waist. You could feel every ridge of him scraping against your walls, the sheer size of him ensuring you'd feel this for days. His laughter was dark when your hips jerked uncontrollably—"Look at you, trying to take more like a greedy slut"—before he pinned you flat with a hand between your shoulder blades.
Your muffled sob against the sheets only seemed to spur him on. He fucked into you with punishing precision, each thrust angling deeper until your vision whited out. "Gonna fill you up," he promised, voice ragged as his rhythm stuttered. "Mark you up so fucking good." His teeth found the nape of your neck right as his grip tightened on your cock—the perfect storm of pain and pleasure hurtling you over the edge.
Your orgasm hit like a wrecking ball, back bowing as you spilled over his fingers with a broken cry. The sight of your modest length twitching pitifully in his grasp had him snarling curses, his hips snapping erratically. "Fuck—that tight little hole," he gritted out, his own release surging hot and deep inside you. The sheer volume of it had you whimpering, oversensitive and still clenching around him as he milked himself dry.
His chuckle was a rough rasp against your spine when he finally pulled out, watching his spend drip from your abused entrance. "Could fit another load in there," he mused, swiping two fingers through the mess before pressing them back inside. Your weak squirm only made him groan, his half-hard cock twitching against your thigh. "Christ—you gonna beg for round two already?"
The cuffs finally came off with a click, blood rushing back to your wrists as he manhandled you onto your back. His thumb brushed your swollen lower lip, smearing precum from where you'd bitten it raw. "Fuck Merry Christmas, darling " he muttered, before claiming your mouth again in a softer kiss this time. Pulling back as he smiled softly, running his hand over your cheek, before a slight sinister smirk made way to his lips. This is gonna be a long Christmas night.
Authors note: I hope you all enjoyed this! Leave any comments tips or suggestions down below!
