Pavlovian Snap (+18)
Oldman!Joel Miller x Chubby!Dom!Lifegaurd!F!Reader
Summary: Joel has it bad for you, the young new lifeguard hired at his mundane assisted living complex. He’s a drooling mess at the very sight of you, begging for a taste. Unbeknownst to most, you’re not as sweet as you play yourself to be. Well…personality wise, anyway.
TW/Tags: MDNI, smut +18, dub con (reader Pavlov’s joel without his awareness but he’s into it), oral sex (f receiving), old man oral sex/kissing (dentures removed), premature ejaculation/joel cumming in pants, bully!reader/sweet than sour!reader, perverted!joel (he’s down bad), dirty talk, lots of saliva and drooling (spitting in mouth/spit swapping), cum eating, french kissing, kinda elderly abuse if you squint
You have no idea what effect you have on him. Or maybe you do and you just enjoy torturing him. But it’s because of you, that he has this problem.
Christ…
As if he didn’t already have a million of them to deal with; a result of his old age.
See, Joel can’t seem to help himself whenever he hears the snap of your swimsuit fabric against your supple wet skin. Anytime you’re readjusting or simply shrugging on your swimsuit, you’d tug at the elastic with one taut finger and release letting it form along the curves of your body.
Normally something like that wouldn't and shouldn’t stir any sane person.
It all began on one summer day after a rigorous water aerobics class, when you’d excuse yourself from your group as they continued on their routine. You went to fish out the gusset of your one-piece swimsuit, swallowed up by your volumptuousness. You hung around in a dark corner, sure that no one could see you.
But he did.
He’d been innocently on his way to the class after exiting the locker room and there you were bent over, one hand against the wall for support while the other hand pinched at the fabric lodged between your legs—between…your puffy glistening folds. They audibly ‘clicked’ with how sticky you were as you parted them.
Were you always this wet? Or had something turned you on that day enough to make you that way?
His knees nearly buckled. Hell, you would have been nearly responsible for his heart attack or possible death.
….And it would have been worth it.
You released the fabric with a snap, allowing it to adjust in place and smiling in relief. Meanwhile, he hid away disappointed he’d never see such beauty ever again. Only the sound of the clicking stickiness and the snapping elastic to remind him of heaven.
But, of course, you possess a rubenesque figure in which your swimsuit needing to be readjusted is a common occurrence.
For the moments where it’s a simple adjusting of your top, you’d do it shamelessly out in the open. No nudity but still his eyes would draw to your full chest at the sound of the snap. And for the parts that dug deeper, you’d hide away and he’d discreetly excuse himself from the others in search of you, hiding away while he ogles your body and feels himself stir in his trunks.
The kind of swell he hadn't felt in years.
It’s wrong. He knows this. He’s absolutely repulsed at himself whenever he does so and yet he does it anyway. You don’t deserve this. You’re too good. Very sweet, polite, and helpful to everyone. You even pray for him whenever he falls ill. And this is how he repays you?
Joel lies to himself sometimes, blaming his old age for being unable to control his perverted reactions towards you. However, deep down, he knows that even if he were just a little younger…he’d still be a dirty dog.
A warm breath against his ear and a hand pressed against his tummy from behind startles Joel for a moment until your words began to flood his ears.
“You’re doing so great, Mr.Miller. Amazing core control,” You praise before your hand slides a little lower, smoothing the hairs on his tummy as you reach the waistband of his shorts. “Don’t forget those breathing exercises I taught you. Want to feel you taking those breaths. Breathe in, breathe out.”
He can hardly breathe when you're all over him like this. Joel is usually great at feigning indifference when it comes to you, even acting like a grumpy little brat as it comes quite naturally. But now he’s suffocating trying to breathe with you own breaths fanning his ear, mimicking his own.
God, he misses the touch of a woman.
“Doing so good.” You softly repeat again, pressing your front further into his back. A strained whine bubbles in his throat, painful to swallow down. He thrashes a little in your caged arms. He needed to get away or he’ll pop a boner prominent enough to call a nurse.
You grip his forearm with one hand keeping him steady. He could easily break from your grasp but he’s a touch-starved pervy old man. There’s no way the sick part of him would miss the very few moments throughout each class session where you’d lay hands on him.
“I ain't that old, woman. I’m a grown man who’s had 70 years of breathin’ on my own,” He grunts. “I reckon I’m more of an expert than you.”
You chuckle. You always did find his fussing to be endearing. “You got me there. But I can teach you the more efficient and safer way to do it while swimming,” One of your hands leave his arm to quickly tug at your red bikini that gave you a shallow wedgie.
That damn familiar snap and soon he’s salivating as if he’d just removed his dentures. It’s even more uncontrollable then the other times, possibly because of your close proximity.
Thick drool runs down his chin dripping onto your arm across his tummy. You freeze for a moment, recognizing the difference in consistency from the water that surrounds the two of you.
Carefully, you float around him to face him. It’s unmistakable once you bare witness and concern is the first emotion to etch your features.
“Mr. Miller, you’re drooling,” You point out. “Are you feeling well?”
“Ain’t made o’ sugar, darlin’. Lil’ saliva ain't ever hurt nobody.” He shrugs off.
You don't allow him the opportunity to float away as you shrink the distance, placing a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. Sickeningly, he hoped it was the same hand you’d use to remove your wedgie.
“You’re burning up. You poor thing,” You coo, gently gliding and caressing a hand down the side of his face. “No more swimming for you, mister.”
“Jesus Christ, woman, I already said that I—”
“I don't think you want to disappoint me,” You say talking over him then adding on innocently, “Do you, Mr. Miller?”
He reluctantly shakes his head and sighs a gruff ‘no’, trying to remain frustratingly defiant but you have the patience of a saint.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll have my swim partner take it from here for the day while I escort you up to your apartment. We can call a nurse from there. Sound like a plan?”
“Fine,” He huffs. “But you should know you’re taking away from the one part of my day that I get to do somethin’ active.”
“No worries, Mr. Miller,” You place firm hands on his shoulders as you guide him out of the pool from behind. “Promise I’ll make it up to you.”
Once you’re both out of the pool, you take the initiative to guide the way, your hand in his as you drag him into the women’s locker room much to his confusion.
“I can tell you’re so starved and yet you refuse to eat any of your meals according to your caretaker,” You call out over your shoulder, oblivious to his frantic state.
Were you mad?! Why on earth would you lead him to such an intimate area? It’s lucky that it’s just the two of you. But at any moment someone could walk in and he’d be the perverted peeping tom of the situation. Unless it was exactly what you wanted. Could you have finally caught on to his behavior? It could explain the very suggestive nature of this whole situation.
Swarming thoughts; a mixture of guilt, fear, and confusion, continue to plague Joel’s mind. Even as you carefully sit him on the bench just in front of your locker, he can’t help but feel as if he’s in some sort of trouble. If it is the case, then he’s being extra cautious not to ogle you as you begin to rummage through your locker, bending over like a trap begging for his eyes to feast.
You straighten and pull out a lunchbox, sitting in the space beside him. It’s enough distance to where the knee of your folded leg, resting on the bench, presses into his soaked swim trunk-covered thigh.
“I made some Penne Alla Vodka last night along with other goodies,” You say as you begin to take the containers out of the box. “I actually brought this for you since I overheard you complaining about the lack of taste in some of the foods you’ve had to eat and I also knew how much you enjoy pasta so…I made this.”
You pull out a handkerchief from the basket, leaning to dab his face when he flinches away for a moment then give in.
You smile as you clean around his face and continue. “I know I’m not allowed to do this. In fact if they caught me, I’m guaranteed to lose my job. But I really couldn’t stand to see you starve yourself and go about our lessons as if you’re fine. So I brought us here where there were no cameras so you can indulge.”
Joel melts. You really are a sweetheart. Nurses and the elderly alike love you and it’s always been clear why. Only he’d been the one reluctant and distant with you despite your best efforts to be kind. He knew exactly why. He felt ashamed that a man his age could desire you so intensely knowing all you would ever see him as is a stand-in grandfather. That, in the end, he could fantasize and drool over you all he pleases but there will never be any reciprocation.
“Thanks, kid. Really means a lot.” Joel finally says with a soft smile, patting your leg.
“Anytime. But let’s keep this our little secret, ‘kay?” You whisper, a finger to your lip and a wink.
He nods, stopping in mid-motion when he feels you taking his hand in yours once more, his palms facing up as you lather a sanitizing wet wipe across it. He shivers as you carefully take each thick individual finger and twisting your hand them. It’s as close of intimacy with a woman that he’s had in a very long time. A few more strokes and his semi-hard state might stir at full attention, something that would have taken a blue pill or two to achieve.
“All clean.” You whisper before squeezing his hands. “You must be so cold. We’ll make this quick so you can change into some warm clothes and rest at home.”
You release his hands to take a forkful of pasta, bringing it up to his face.
God, now you’re feeding him?! Just another way of reminding him of his age.
You sense his hesitance, taking it a different way. “It’s still very warm if that’s your concern.”
Then you’re turning the fork handle in his direction, silently offering him to take the utensil from you to feed himself. Joel turns the handle back in your direction before taking the forkful into his mouth.
You give him that famous sweet smile but in your eyes there’s a glint of mischievous as if you enjoy watching him under your control.
“Better?” You ask.
“Mhm.” He huffs through chewing.
“Good boy.” You purr and to even more of his surprise—as if his poor old heart can handle any more of it—you place your free hand on the back of his head, petting him.
He doesn’t speak up. In fact, he could tell by the look in your eyes that you’re surprised he hasn’t shot you with a grumpy comment about being treated like a dog. But the smirk slowly creeping on your face tells him that he’d already given himself away.
He’s undeniably submissive to you.
You feed him another bite, scooting closer as you continue to pet him. His eyes nearly cross when your fingers reach his scalp, scratching.
“Mr. Miller, I’m curious,” You say in a saccharinely teasing tone, your pinky finger tracing light circles on the back of his neck while your fingers continue to entangle in his hair. “I was so sure that you’d be more composed once you’re fed and yet I look into those big brown eyes of yours and they still convey need. Is there something you’d like to ask for? Something I can give you?”
Joel harshly swallows down the meal, throat growing dry as the implications no longer feel blurred. Yet, still he plays the fool.
“I ain’t catchin’ your drift, kid.” He’s cool and collected. Or so he thinks. But the tremble in his legs planted on the tile floors gives him away.
“Kid?” You say to yourself, eyebrows furrowed as if testing the word on your tongue. Dramatically, you continue your own clueless charade, looking left to right then tugging on his curls and receiving a low grunt from him. “I don’t see a kid here, Mr. Miller. Would a ‘kid’ be able to classically condition a man to crave them and nothing else?”
“You mean…you know?”
You don’t take your eyes off his, towering over him with your knees planted on the bench. You tug on his hair further, sending his head back as you drop the utensil in your other hand to the ground and bring it to your swim suit. You tug at the elastic and release with a snap, full body shivers rack through Joel’s body and he begins to salivate once more.
For such a large and well-fit man, Joel felt so pathetic and small in your grasp.
You laugh. “Animals, babies, the elderly…are the most vulnerable and susceptible to psychological influence. You were the test subject in my little school experiment. Made it all the more easier to condition you with how perverted you are.”
“You did this all for some damn project!” He growls.
You giggle some more and it makes him all the more frustrated. “Oh, no, Mr. Miller. You aren’t my actual project. That would be super unethical and I want somewhat of a decent recognition for my work. You were just my little lab rat. A test dummy I could use to gather some information so that this whole experiment wouldn’t be entirely in vain. I mean, just think of the potential. Being able to sway the minds of an entire population of people with just desire alone especially as a woman. We’re a lot more powerful than anyone wants us to believe. I chose you because you’re the exact kind of ‘traditional man’ that underestimates this power.”
“You fuckin’ crazy woman. Once anyone hears about this—
“My work here is done. Tell everyone,” You whisper menacingly, tugging harder on his hair and shortening the distance between your face and his. “Tell them all. I’ll lose my job but I’ll have already gotten what I needed. And who’d believe you anyway? Everyone loves me and well…you haven’t been exactly discreet about your feelings for me either. As much as you try to deny it, I’ve seen the way you hunger for me and they probably have, too.”
“So what do ya get out of this besides bein’ a smartass and getting an old man to pop a hard one at the sight of a young thing like you?” Now he’s the one laughing. “These aren’t exactly groundbreaking results, sweetheart. You think you’ll get the Nobel peace for deducin’ that I wanna fuck ya? You really are just a pathetic little kid.”
Your tongue stretches out from your mouth, lapping up the saliva of his bearded chin. His mouth hangs open in surprise and in pleasure, eye fluttering at the sensation. For a brief millisecond, your tongue swipes over his bottom lip and pulls away with a sticky string of saliva to follow.
“The only pathetic one here is you,” You retort. “I’ve got you right where I want you. A compliant, whiny mess of a proud man. And you think that isn’t groundbreaking? Now tell me what do you need and if you ask nicely enough…I’ll give it to you.”
He couldn’t let you win. Not just yet. If you really saw him as just an experiment, then he could at least skew the narrative.
“You know, you’re wrong about me,” Joel begins, staring defiantly into your eyes. “I actually think women are quite powerful. Not all boomers think the way you think we do. But I also think you underestimate the kind of power I have as a man. It’s called ‘restraint’. So I ain't gonna be one of your little puppets to dance to your tune, sugar. Think I’m gonna finish this lovely meal you made me then I’ll just hop back into those lessons.”
He ends with a smug smirk but to his surprise your smile does not falter. You lean down for one last time, pursing your lips and a line of saliva trickles down. Instead of fighting, Joel allows it to fall on his tongue until your the one bringing a finger under his chin to close his mouth. You caress his Adam’s apple as he swallows, eyes blown in devotion as you pull away from him entirely.
“Fuck, that’s a shame,” You say and you actually do sound disappointed. You sit back onto the bench, hands planted on the splinted wood behind you for support as you lean back and legs on either side as you spread them wide. “I’d have given anything to feel your tongue here. I’d squeeze your head around my thighs and we’d conduct our own mini experiment on whether you’d sacrifice your air and right to life all for the sake of pleasuring me.”
Joel watches with a heated gaze and labored breaths as you reach your hand between your legs pulling the fabric hiding your warm core to the side, revealing the heavenly sticky plump folds he’d seen just once.
Now it’s up close and as beautiful as ever. As glazed as a cinnamon roll or a hunny bun. And he bets his life you taste like one, too.
When you decide to dip a manicured finger in, he nearly lost it there. You quickly pull it out, closing your legs once more to hold your hand in view for your attentions. It’s coated in your honeyed essence and you study it in glee, taunting him.
He has half a mind to stop you and yet he doesn’t as he watches you bring them to your finger to your mouth, sucking on it earnestly.
You release it with a wet pop. “Wish it were you tasting me instead. You’re clearly desperate for it.”
You point to his mouth, now softly smacking as it generates saliva. “I could’ve helped you with your little problem if you’d just let me.”
Now you’re rising to your feet and he’s beginning to panic. “Oh well, go on and finish. Hurry or the women’ll be in here soon.”
“Just hold your horses.” Joel calls out before he could stop himself.
You turn to face him with a devilish smirk. “Yes, Mr. Miller.”
“I…I want—I need you.” He grumbles.
“Was that so hard?” You quip, rubbing it in before gesturing him with a flick of your hand. “Lie back, dog. Don’t forget to remove those teeth, too. I know you’re all bark and no bite.”
Joel winces at your comment. Fuck, you’re more ruthless than he could have ever anticipated. Following your command, he removes the dentures from his mouth before lying back. You peer down at him with a smug look in contrast to his puppy eyed stare.
Soon, your throwing a leg onto the other side of his head, moving the gusset of your bathing suit to the side once more before lowering onto his plump lips.
He groans into your core the moment of contact. You moan at the vibrations, gripping his hair for support as you keel over. His tongue lathes across the perimeter of your hot pussy with one calculated drag of a lick before he completely surrenders and feasts.
“You’re so much better like this.” You whine, grinding your hips down against him.
The suction of his lips is an out-of-body experience. You’d have thought it’d be a lot harder to get used to the gumminess from the lack of teeth but you find your eyes rolling into the back of your head in pure ecstasy.
“Mmm hmph mm.” Joel strains through muffled words.
“No, no. Shut the fuck up,” You pant, hips rolling hard against his face. “Don’t talk. Just make me cum.”
Joel’s arms squeeze around your upper thighs, abandoning words as you ordered. His eyebrows furrow as your pleasure becomes his own, a tent forming in his swim trunks that threatened to bursts at the seams. Your hands were so close, leaning back onto your hands that are now supported by his hair-riddled thighs.
He rolls his hips upwards, hoping you get the idea. Touch him. Just please touch him. Oh, he hopes you’d slip your manicured fingers past the waistband of shorts and tug at his thick, veiny cock until you beg for it to be buried within you. By the contraction of your taut muscles around his tongue, he could tell you’d be a really tight fit.
God, just the thought of it makes him feel as if he’ll cum. Nope. He’s definitely about to cum and he knows you’ll give him grief over it. And yet he can’t help it when you’re moaning so loud like you’re not in a public space. Anyone could walk in to sound of your wrecked wailings. They’d stumble upon the wanton sight of you riding his face while he happily humps the air and not even King Arthur would be able to pull his wet wringling appendage out of your core.
“Oh my god, Joel, it’s so good. Fuck, it’s so good. You’re gonna make me cum. Shit, shit, shit!” You cry, a tremble in your voice.
Such a dirty mouth for whom he’d once known to be a sweet girl. Now Joel sees you almost like a little bully seeking the vulnerable to impose your power over. So why does that sickeningly turn him on so much so that he wishes to be preyed up one by you rather then the usual reversed scenario? And why did he find himself looking to please you despite you viewing him no more than a trained pet?
It’s clear.
You never had to try to begin with but you went just a step further to ensure he’d be on his knees for your attention and like a lawn chair he folded to your whim. Women truly are devastatingly powerful.
Well, should he assume his role than he’ll be glad to prove his worth, shattering your world and preconceived notions of him. He maybe “traditional” but by god he’ll ruin you unconventionally. You’ll have no chance to think so little of him as your puppet if you’re so drunk on lust that you’ve ascended another realm.
With a newfound determination, Joel uses his advantage as an old man with the years of age and experiences that allow him to flick, slurp, and swirl his tongue with the eagerness one would have with a sweet treat. All while he uses toothless mouth to suck your soul and drink in the sweetness you provide.
His meaty fingers dig into the fat of your thighs, refusing you the chance to pull away from the intensity. But what really dooms you is the way he looks holds your gaze just as the dam breaks.
Your breath is stolen. Tensing, gasping and mewling when it happens. You shake so violently in the throes of passion that he’s having to bring his hands up around your waist to keep you from falling, still licking you to completion. His eyes never leave you despite yours having long disappeared into bliss.
A few tears escape your eyes, falling onto his face and gliding down the sides as if they were his own tears. But it’s the goosebumps that rise against your smooth skin that had for some reason did him in as if that were physical proof enough that he’d ruined you.
A broken whimper escapes him to his chagrin as he cums in his shorts, hyperventilating when load after hot load begins to spurt out of him.
You continue to quake against him, aftershocks coursing through you like electricity. The tremors throughout your bodies hit at different frequencies until they meld into one and you’re both between groans, gasps, and lightheaded giggles.
When all settles, he reluctantly releases you, hairs clinging to your respective skins from the thin layer of sweat that illuminates your bodies under the fluorescent lights.
His mouth is coated in your creamy essence and you take it upon yourself to lap it up with your tongue. Joel goes a step dirtier and collects it from your tongue with his in a heated french kiss.
You’ve never kissed a man this old let alone without any teeth but you’re addicted, bringing his mouth to your neck. He latches to you like a leech and you have plans to later feel them on your hardening buds while he rams into you. The idea making your toes curl at the same time he decides to suck on a prominent vein.
“Those swimming lessons paid off, Miller. You swam well.” You quip, groaning as he cups your still wet and quivering cunt with a large hand.
With his free hand, he pops his dentures back into place before biting into your shoulder, eliciting another delicious sound from your pretty lips.
“Told you I ain’t need any of them breathin’ techniques you thought you could teach me,” He soothes the teeth indents on your shoulder with an open mouth kiss. “An old man’s had enough years of experience to know.”
You rest a hand on the warm, darkened spot on the crotch of his shorts and squeeze. He bites his lips to keep another pathetic whine at bay but it proves to be futile when your lips find his ear and you whisper, “Then do you mind not coming up from air for a second time? If you’re good for it, I’ll think about touching your achey breaky senior citizen cock?”
He can’t help but smirk at this. Oh, he’s going to make you eat your words. Then just maybe if he breaks you enough, you’ll be a good little conditioned kitten for his to taunt.
A/N: I sat on this one for a whiiiiile. Literally did not know where to go with this one but I really liked the concept so I had to do it justice someway. I do not own the images or gifs presented and the picture of the woman is not represented of the reader, just concept. Thank you for reading, old men enjoyers!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️
