𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐎'𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘. he wasn’t adventurous, never toed the line of right and wrong, and he liked to keep anything salacious to himself. unlike his frat friends, he didn’t brag about people that he fucked or the size of his dick and he generally stayed out of the conversation if it turned to such topics. he was nice and wholesome and currently struggling with the feeling of the other on top of him in the crowded room. they were supposed to be celebrating his and his twin sister’s birthday. instead, he could barely join the festivities because he was only focused on how hot the room was and how good it felt to have the love of his life sitting on top of him, though he was still fully aware of the fact that everyone could see them. not what was happening beneath the table, but god, they were in public and he was embarrassed and his hands held their hips in a vain attempt to STOP the fluid motions of them circling above him. he wondered if people could tell. could they read his awkward, tight expression as he sat between his little sister and his best friend with his significant other in his lap that SOMETHING was happening? or did everyone just think that, per usual, he was uncomfortable with all of the attention on him right now? ‘ what’re you doing? stop. ’ he mumbled, clearly shameful in the fact that he was enjoying this despite the setting and the crowd of people around them singing ‘happy birthday jameson and amelia’ at the top of their lungs. at least the song was enough to drown out his words. — @nemetontm
