break him ! 18+
due to popular demand of nerd!theo losing his v-card
this doesn’t go with my other nerd! theo works so the dynamic is different, uni au! long so buckle up!
“I can’t believe you’re actually serious,” Pansy deadpanned, voice dripping with secondhand embarrassment as she watched you stare again. Your eyes were wide, cheeks warm, lips slightly parted like some lovestruck idiot in a bad rom-com. Pathetic. And you didn’t even care.
She followed your gaze across the sun-drenched quad to Theodore Nott, oblivious as ever. His thick black-rimmed glasses kept sliding down the bridge of his nose, threatening to fall into his lap. A faded grey hoodie clung to his lean frame, sporting a suspicious yellowish stain near the hem that he clearly hadn’t noticed, or just didn’t care about. He was hunched forward, excitedly tossing a shiny Pokémon card into the center of the circle where his friends sat cross-legged on the grass. The low murmur of their laughter and rapid nerd-speak drifted on the breeze.
Theo’s head lifted suddenly, as if he’d felt your stare like a physical touch. His hazel eyes met yours through those smudged lenses. For a split second his mouth parted, then he flushed—a deep, blotchy red that crawled all the way up his neck and into his ears. He quickly looked away, pushing his glasses up with a trembling finger.
In all fairness, he still wasn’t convinced you weren’t fucking with him. Every lingering glance, every time you “accidentally” brushed against him in the library, he braced for the hidden cameras. Pretty girls like you didn’t just choose guys like him unless it was the setup for some viral humiliation prank.
Just last week you’d leaned over his cluttered table in the library, your chin propped on your hand, voice soft and sweet as you asked what he was studying. The scent of your perfume, something warm and sweet with a hint of flowers? Maybe? Whatever it was had wrapped around him like a drug. When you shifted, your short skirt rode higher, the soft curve of your thighs brushing the edge of his desk. Theo had swallowed so hard it was audible, eyes squeezing shut as blood rushed south so fast he nearly saw stars.
For you, it was even worse.
Your obsession with the jittery little dork was borderline unhinged. You loved the way his breath hitched whenever you got too close, the way his long fingers fumbled with whatever he was holding, the way his voice cracked on your name. You loved how easily he blushed—how the heat would bloom across his sharp cheekbones if your eyes lingered on his mouth too long. His friends had started noticing too. The second you approached their group they scattered like startled pigeons, mumbling excuses and clutching their laptops like shields.
They weren’t used to girls like you. Hot. Confident. Short skirts and long legs and zero shame about wanting what you wanted. Usually, girls like you only appeared when they needed homework answers or test copies. You weren’t exactly fluent in their world, meaning you still didn’t fully understand half the things they argued about, but you’d been trying. Late nights scrolling through incel forums and lore wikis, watching World of Warcraft gameplay, bingeing Minecraft streamers until your eyes burned and your head ached. You’d even sat through an entire Pokémon tutorial video after Enzo had sneered at your genuine confusion about the cards.
(“They’re just pictures,” you’d said. “Aren’t you supposed to… look at them?”)
How the hell were you supposed to know?
“As a heart attack,” you grumbled, arms crossed under your chest as you watched Theo fumble another card. Frustration simmered under your skin. You’d tried everything to crack him. Sent him a Discord friend request at 2 a.m. like a complete simp. Worn that ridiculous Bulbasaur t-shirt to Tuesday’s lecture just to see his eyes widen behind those glasses. Yesterday you’d brushed your fingers along his arm in the biology hall, pretending to need help with the latest chapter, your voice low and sweet.
His reaction had been perfect—pupils blowing wide, breath hitching into a shaky little gasp as he looked up at you. Those big doe eyes, framed by smudged scratched lenses, had locked onto yours while he launched into a breathless, overly detailed lecture on cellular respiration. You hadn’t heard a single word. The only biology you cared about was how those long, clever fingers would feel sliding between your thighs, and whether that pretty mouth would sound as wrecked as you imagined when he finally fell apart.
You wanted to climb Theo Nott like a damn tree.
Listen, okay? You’d never had great taste in men.
You wanted to press him back against his messy dorm bed, feel his lean body tremble under yours, and discover exactly how breathy and broken his moans would sound against the shell of your ear. You wanted to find out if those deft fingers that were always flying over keyboards and notebooks, were as good at curling inside you as they were at coding. You wanted to ruin him, slowly, thoroughly, until the shy, stuttering nerd was reduced to nothing but desperate, needy sounds and slick skin.
And he wanted you too. You could tell, duh. His gaze would drag down the length of your legs when he thought you weren’t looking, tongue darting out to wet his lips whenever you swirled yours around a cherry sucker in the library. The way his throat bobbed, the faint flush that crept down his neck… yeahh he wasn’t fooling anyone.
What you didn’t know was how badly it was destroying him.
Theo was mortified, convinced that the second you actually touched him—really touched him—he’d absolutely humiliate himself. There was no way someone like you would still want him after he came in his pants from just five seconds of your hand on his thigh. He’d grown depraved these past weeks, almost feral with it, and you remained gloriously, frustratingly oblivious.
Nights blurred together in his dimly lit dorm room. He’d skip raids with the boys, cock already leaking in his fist as he pulled up your Instagram like some kind of cyber stalker. Pretty moans spilled from his lips. Soft, broken, embarrassingly loud, stroking himself clumsily to your latest photos. The way your skirt rode up in that one story. The curve of your tits in that tight top. He’d cum hard across his own stomach, chest heaving, whispering your name as if he’d ever muster the courage to speak a full sentence to you.
Mornings were worse. He’d wake from yet another wet dream, your thighs squeezing his head, your voice purring filthy praise—and find himself painfully hard, sheets sticky with sweat and precum. He couldn’t even leave his bed until he wrapped his hand around his aching cock again, jerking himself off with frantic, uncoordinated strokes while the memory of your perfume still haunted him. Physics homework sat untouched on his desk. Again.
He was losing his fucking mind, his big brain diluted to mush at the mere thought of you.
Pansy groaned theatrically as you pushed up from the table, barely tossing a “see ya” over your shoulder before striding across the quad with purpose. Theo noticed you the second you started moving. His whole body locked up, shoulders rigid, glasses slipping down his nose as his friends actually scattered like startled mice. Cards and laptops were shoved into bags in record time, leaving him painfully, obviously alone on the grass. See the friends he has? He literally needed you, now how to make him see that? No clue.
You dropped down beside him without invitation, close enough that your bare thigh brushed the side of his knee. Up close he was even prettier, unfairly so. Those chapped, bitten lips looked soft and nervous. A faint trace of his natural musk—warm skin and something faintly clean and boyish—cut through the cheap body spray he’d clearly over-applied this morning. When you reached out and gently pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with two fingers, he flinched like you’d burned him, a visible shiver racing down his spine.
“Heyyy, Teddy,” you purred, letting the nickname roll off your tongue slow and sweet. It slid up his back like ice water and settled hot in his cheeks.
“H-Hey,” he managed, voice cracking adorably.
You tilted your head, letting your gaze drag deliberately down his frame before meeting his eyes again. “I was thinking… tonight, maybe I could come by your dorm and watch that movie you were talking about?”
Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.
“Y-You want to come over? To my dorm? To watch… Tron?” His eyes couldn’t possibly get any wider. He cleared his throat hard, like he was fighting for air. “I—um. I kind of have a—”
He swallowed the pathetic excuse he’d been about to give. The raid. Ten people had finally agreed to show up tonight. He tipped his head back toward the clear blue sky, stomach twisting in a brutal war between losing his virginity to the girl of his filthiest dreams and losing every friend he had.
You wanted to swallow that nervous little waver in his voice. Wrap your lips around it until the only sounds he could make were broken moans.
Instead you let your lower lip push out in a soft pout. “I thought since we’re friends now we should actually hang out… unless we aren’t friends?”
“No!” The word burst out of him, far too loud. He winced. “We—we are!”
“Great.” You smiled, bright and victorious, already rising to your feet. “I’ll be over at seven.”
Theo sat frozen on the grass long after you walked away, heart hammering against his ribs and his cock already half-hard in his jeans at the mere thought of you in his dorm room. Alone. On his bed.
He was so so fucked. In more ways than one, if you get my drift.
You were practically skipping down the sidewalk a few hours later. It was only 6:40, but you couldn’t wait any longer. You’d chosen an outfit that walked the perfect line. Cute enough to say ‘hey i want to jump your bones’, casual enough to say I’m just here for a movie, duh. A tight pink long-sleeve top hugged your curves, the neckline low enough that every shift threatened to spill soft cleavage. Black yoga pants clung to your ass and thighs like a second skin; if you bent juustt right, the faint outline of the delicate lace set underneath showed through. You’d stopped for Thai food on the way, the warm bag swinging at your side, the scent of coconut curry and lemongrass drifting up.
Your knock was light but deliberate, just loud enough to cut through the frantic spiral inside Theo’s head. He froze mid-pace when he realized you were early—way too early. His friends had spent the entire afternoon roasting him, one of them dramatically claiming his cat had better be dead if he bailed on the raid. He did feel guilty. Painfully guilty, considering he was the clan leader.
Not guilty enough to cancel.
He’d taken an excessively long shower, scrubbed his skin raw, then stood in front of his closet for twenty agonizing minutes before settling on a plain black t-shirt and black sweatpants—safe, neutral, hopefully not as pathetic as his normal wear. He’d almost put in contacts, then remembered the way you’d once complimented his glasses and decided to leave them on. He’d picked his cuticles until they bled. Cleaned the tiny dorm room six times. Lit a suspiciously floral candle he’d stolen from his roommate’s drawer. Even bought condoms, face burning crimson at the checkout while the bored cashier definitely judged him.
He was going to throw up. Maybe then you’d finally stop looking at him like that. If he puked on your shoes, surely the spell would break.
But you wouldn’t mind. You found his nervous trembling almost unbearably endearing.
The door finally cracked open. A soft, mortified squeak escaped Theo’s throat.
How the hell was he supposed to survive an entire night with you looking like this?
You smiled, slow and warm, holding up the takeout bag like a peace offering. “Hope you like Thai. I brought options.”
Theo’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. His eyes flicked from your face to the deep neckline of your top, then quickly away, ears scarlet. “Y-Yeah. Thai’s… good.”
The room was smaller than you expected when he ushered you to his room, too mortified to risk his roommate seeing you. A narrow twin bed, one desk buried under textbooks and glowing monitors, the faint sweet scent of the stolen candle mixing with his clean-soap-and-boy smell. You set the food down and kicked off your shoes while he hovered, hands flexing uselessly at his sides.
You ate cross-legged on the floor first, making sure to lean forward so the soft swell of your breasts pressed against your arms. Theo barely touched his food. Every time your knee brushed his from next to him his breath would hitch, a tiny, involuntary sound that sent heat curling low in your belly.
Afterward you patted the edge of his bed. “Movie?”
He nodded jerkily, nearly tripping over his own feet as he set up his laptop. The opening credits of Tron glowed across the screen while you both settled against the headboard. At first there was a careful foot of space between you. Then you shifted closer under the pretense of getting comfortable, your bare foot brushing his ankle. He stiffened.
A few minutes later you leaned in again, this time letting your thigh press fully against his. The heat of his body radiated through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. You could feel the faint tremor running through his leg.
Theo’s breathing had already changed—shallower, faster, full blown panicked. His fingers gripped the edge of the blanket like it was a lifeline. When you tilted your head and let your shoulder rest against his, he swallowed so hard you heard it. The clean, musky scent of his skin filled your lungs every time you inhaled.
You slid your hand onto his thigh, innocent at first, just resting there. His muscles jumped under your palm.
“Relax, Theo,” you murmured, voice low and sweet against the glow of the screen. You rubbed a slow, soothing circle with your thumb. “It’s just a movie.”
Just a movie. Righttt. His chest rose and fell rapidly, breath trembling out in quiet, terrified little exhales. Up close you could see the rapid flutter of his pulse in his throat, the way his lips parted like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find air. He was rock-hard beneath those sweatpants—you could feel the thick line of him twitching against the fabric near your wrist—but he didn’t dare move, frozen between overwhelming want and soul-crushing embarrassment.
You smiled against his shoulder and pressed a little closer, breasts brushing his arm, until your bodies were flush from hip to shoulder. His terrified breathing only grew faster.
One of his favorite movies was playing on the laptop, but it might as well have been static. Theo’s brain had gone completely offline. All he could focus on was the mortifying possibility that you’d glance down, lift the blanket, and see the obvious, aching tent straining against his black sweatpants. When your hand slid higher up his thigh, a soft, pathetic whimper escaped his throat. His head snapped toward you, the movie long forgotten.
“Are you nervous, Teddy?” you asked, blinking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. You were much too good at this, the torture thing.
He nodded so fast his glasses slipped down his nose again. His eyes were glassy, waterline shimmering with overwhelmed tension. He wasn’t just shaking, oh no, he was full blown vibrating beside you, every muscle coiled tight like he might shatter.
“Why don’t you touch me too?” you whispered, voice velvet-soft. “It might help.”
You took his trembling hand and guided it onto your thigh. The first real contact of his warm palm against your leg sent a spark buzzing straight between yours. His fingers flexed instinctively, then stilled.
“I-I don’t… I’ve never—” His voice cracked, barely above a whisper.
“Do you want to?”
“Fuck, y-yes.”
The raw honesty in that desperate little curse made you smile. You kept your hand over his, slowly dragging his palm up and down the smooth fabric of your yoga pants. After a few guided strokes he started moving on his own, clumsy and reverent, exploring the shape of your thigh like it was something sacred. His breath came in short, ragged bursts against your hair.
When his fingertips drifted higher and brushed the apex of your thighs, he felt the unmistakable damp heat seeping through the thin material. A shocked little sound slipped from his lips.
“I-Is that… because of—um—”
“Because of you,” you hummed, pressing your thighs together around his hand for a moment. “Mhmm. Feel how wet I am for you?”
Theo made another broken noise, forehead dropping to your shoulder as his fingers flexed again, instinctively pressing harder against your soaked core through the fabric. His cock twitched hard in his sweatpants, a wet spot already forming at the tip. His breathing was frantic now—fast, terrified, and so turned on it sounded like he was seconds from actually hyperventilating. The scent of your arousal mixed with the candle and his own warm skin, thick and heady in the small room.
“Oh,” Theo gasped as you swung a leg over him and flipped onto his lap. Your thighs bracketed his hips, your soaked heat pressing firmly against his abdomen through the thin layers between you. The weight of you on top of him short-circuited his too big brain.
“Kiss me,” you whispered.
He squeezed his eyes shut, too embarrassed to admit he’d never done that either. It didn’t matter. The truth was obvious the second your mouths met. His lips were warm and soft, but his tongue was clumsy and eager, unsure where to go until you took control. You threaded your fingers into his messy hair, tugging just hard enough to make him whimper into your mouth. You licked inside, slow and deep, tasting him while he surrendered completely—melting, letting you lead.
The first moan you fed into his mouth sounded sweeter than any fantasy he’d ever jerked off to.
You pulled back just enough to breathe, lips brushing his jaw. “Good boy,” you murmured.
Theo’s reaction was visceral. His hips jerked up hard, grinding his painfully hard cock against your core. You moaned at the friction, your aching cunt throbbing against the rigid length of him through his sweatpants.
Then you were kissing him again, deeper, hungrier, rolling your hips in slow, deliberate circles. The wet heat of you dragged along his clothed erection over and over, the soaked fabric of your yoga pants and lace panties doing nothing to hide how much you wanted him.
And then..
Every one of Theo’s worst nightmares crashed into reality.
His whole body went rigid beneath you. A loud, desperate moan tore from his throat, muffled against your lips as thick, hot spurts of cum flooded his sweatpants. You could feel every pulse of his cock, the sudden wet warmth spreading beneath you as he came untouched, shaking and whimpering through it.
You moaned right back, grinding harder, chasing the filthy friction while he was still twitching and sensitive. “Fuck… that’s so hot,” you breathed against his mouth.
“I didn’t—oh my god, I’m so sorry—please kill me,” he squeaked, voice cracking with humiliation. His eyes were squeezed shut, cheeks burning crimson, glasses fogged and crooked.
You grabbed his jaw firmly, forcing him to look at you. When his eyes finally opened all half-lidded, dazed, glassy with aftershocks. He was floored to find nothing but raw lust on your face.
Yeah, you were definitely some fucked up form of his imagination come to life.
Oh but you were so aroused, almost painfully, by his little show of zero self restraint. You’d never made someone cum just from kissing and a little grinding before.
Major ego boost.
“Do you want to fuck me, Theo?” Your voice had gone husky, sending a sharp thrill racing under his skin.
Theo couldn’t form words. He just nodded frantically, fingers digging desperately into your hip as he stared up at you, completely shell-shocked.
You peeled your top off slowly, then tossed your bra across the room. Your tits spilled free—soft, perfect, even better than every filthy fantasy he’d stroked himself raw to. Theo’s mouth fell open. His jaw slacked as he realized what all the hype was about.
“Holy shit,” he moaned, eyes wide and heated. He was dangerously close to cumming again untouched.
You shimmied out of your sticky yoga pants and soaked panties, then climbed back onto him completely naked. The wet heat of your bare cunt dragged along his clothed thigh and he nearly blacked out.
“This can’t be real. You can’t be real.” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm his racing heart, but they flew open again a second later, unable to stay away from the sight of you.
When your fingers reached for the hem of his shirt, self-consciousness slammed into him like a truck. “W-Wait—”
“C’mon, baby,” you cooed, “I want to see you too.”
Baby.
The word made him all stupid. You tugged his shirt off, then dragged his ruined sweatpants down to his ankles in one swift motion, leaving him dizzy and exposed.
You were real. You had to be. Because your lips were trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down his chest and stomach, your filthy little tongue dragging over his skin until you reached the dark trail of hair at the base of his cock. You wanted to tease him longer—you really did—but the aching need between your legs won out.
He was heavy and thick in your hand when you wrapped your fingers around him. Theo squeaked at the contact, still painfully sensitive from his earlier orgasm. He was way too big to be such a hopeless nerd. This cock didn’t belong to someone with a $2,000 gaming setup and a Pokémon card collection hidden in his closet, i mean come on.
And fuck, it was pretty—flushed pink at the tip, still glistening with the remnants of his cum, veins standing out against pale skin.
You dragged the swollen head through your soaked folds, coating him in your slick, then started sinking down. And realized quickly you’d overestimated how easily you could take him.
The noise Theo made was almost concerning—a choked, guttural sound that made you pause and raise an eyebrow. In all the porn he’d watched, every late-night fanfic he’d read, nothing had prepared him for this. Your cunt was velvet-soft and molten, squeezing the life out of his cock as you sank down just a few inches.
“F-Fuck. Don’t move,” you whimpered, your dominant edge cracking under the sheer stretch of him. He was so big it bordered on ridiculous, forcing your walls open wider than you’d been ready for.
Theo’s hand skimmed slowly up your waist, over your hip, then your stomach—still trembling, still nervous, but watching you struggle seemed to flip some switch inside him. For once, he found his voice.
“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it,” he said, small but steady, eyes full of pure adoration.
You guided his shaky hand to your breast. He cupped it gently, then started massaging under your direction, thumb brushing over your nipple until he found the rhythm that made you moan.
“Mmm, that’s it… fuck,” you breathed.
You kept sinking down, agonizingly slow, taking him inch by inch while he fought not to move. The wet, obscene sounds of your slick cunt stretching around him filled the small dorm room, mixing with his ragged, terrified breathing and your soft, broken whimpers. Whimpers that he, Theodore Nott, was pulling from you. He was actually on cloud 9.
You sank the final few inches with a slow, deliberate roll of your hips until you were fully seated on his cock. Theo’s eyes rolled back, a wrecked groan tearing from his throat as your tight, fluttering walls enveloped every inch of him. The wet, velvety heat was almost too much. He felt like he was drowning in you.
A sharp, pained squeak slipped from your lips when the fat head of his cock pressed hard against your cervix. “You’re so big,” you whimpered, voice breathy and stunned.
Were you trying to kill him???? His hips twitched upward involuntarily, cock pulsing deep inside you. He looked up at you with wide, terrified eyes, glasses crooked, cheeks flushed dark red, like he still couldn’t believe any of this was happening.
You reached between your bodies and started rubbing tight circles over your swollen clit, rolling your hips in slow, shallow bounces. The stretch burned in the best way, every movement dragging him along your sensitive walls. Theo’s hands flexed on your thighs, fingers digging in as he fought the overwhelming urge to.. cry??
“Can I…?” His voice was hoarse. “I want to touch you there.”
You nodded, a little shocked, moving your hand. He replaced it with his own, clumsy at first. Way too hard and too fast, jabbing at your sensitive nub in a way that almost made you hit him. The pressure bordered on overwhelming, but you guided him with soft moans and little corrections until he found the right rhythm, slick sounds filling the room as his fingertips worked your clit. He’s a fast learner, obviously!
Your bounces grew faster, harder. The wet plap plap plap of skin meeting skin echoed lewdly off the dorm walls with every drop of your hips. His confidence slowly built, his free hand gripping your waist, eyes locked on the way your tits bounced and your face twisted in pleasure.
Without warning, he flipped you onto your back, still buried deep inside you. You gasped at the sudden shift, legs falling open around him. At first his thrusts were messy and uncoordinated, to be real honest, he sucked. His hips stuttering, thrust too shallow, his lanky body a bit too awkward. Just when you were about to roll your eyes and flip him back, he found a deep, steady rhythm that had you moaning louder, nails digging into his back.
He hooked your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half as he drove into you harder. His mouth was everywhere—messy, open-mouthed kisses pressed to your neck, your tits, the soft skin of your thighs—wherever he could reach while he fucked you. The new angle made his cock hit that spongey spot inside you with every thrust, the head nudging your cervix in a way that made sparks explode behind your eyes.
Theo felt like he was on top of the world when your cunt clamped down around him and you came hard, back arching, a broken cry of his name spilling from your lips. The feeling of you pulsing and gushing around his cock was too much.
“Fuck—oh no, oh god—” He tried to pull out, but it was too late. His hips stuttered, burying himself to the hilt as thick ropes of cum flooded deep inside you. He kept thrusting through it in shallow, greedy strokes, hands roaming everywhere—squeezing your tits, gripping your ass, stroking your waist like he couldn’t. stop. touching. you.
The second the haze cleared, panic crashed over his face.
“I—I didn’t mean to—oh my god, I forgot the condom,” he stuttered, still buried inside you, cock twitching with the last weak spurts. “I’m so sorry—I bought them, they’re right there, I just—fuck, you feel so good and I couldn’t—please don’t hate me—”
He looked genuinely horrified, but his hands were still greedily feeling you up, thumbs brushing over your nipples, palms sliding over your hips like he couldn’t bear to stop. Actually, he was certain this could be the first and last time he touches a woman, especially one that looks like you.
You burst into laughter. Bright, breathless, almost hysterical, as Theo’s panicked apologies tumbled out. The sound was warm and fond, vibrating through your chest as you grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him down into a deep, messy kiss. He melted instantly, whimpering into your mouth while his softening cock—still buried inside you—twitched with oversensitive little aftershocks.
You kept kissing him until he was panting against your lips, hips starting to rut again in shallow, nervous movements. The wet slide of his spent cock through your cum-filled cunt made him hiss, but he couldn’t stop, grinding against that perfect heat like he was addicted already. He was addicted already.
When you finally let him breathe, he buried his face in your neck, voice muffled and shy. “C-Can I… um… eat you out?” He swallowed hard. “Can you teach me?”
Your smile widened, a fresh wave of heat curling low in your belly. “Never let the world change you, Theo.” His puzzled and confused look only made you giggle, your eyes soft as you shoved at his shoulders.
You guided him down your body with gentle hands in his hair. Theo’s glasses were fogged and crooked, absolutely impossible to see out of, but he didn’t care. The second his mouth hovered over your dripping cunt, the sight of his own thick cum leaking out of you drew a wrecked moan from deep in his chest.
“Just lick,” you murmured, voice husky. “You can’t mess up.”
He obeyed instantly. His tongue dragged through your folds in one long, experimental stripe, collecting the messy mix of his cum and your arousal. The filthy, salty-sweet taste made him moan loudly against you, eyes fluttering shut as he dove back in with more enthusiasm. He was clumsy—messy, eager, sucking and licking like a man who hadn’t eaten in weeks—but the vibrations of his desperate sounds and the way he pressed his face deeper, nose bumping your clit, had your thighs shaking around his head within minutes.
Theo ate his own orgasm out of you with filthy, wet sounds, moaning and whimpering the whole time like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open while he licked and sucked greedily, pushing his tongue inside you to chase every drop.
You lay back against his pillows, fingers tangled in his messy hair, chest heaving with pleasure and satisfaction.
God, you were so fucking glad you’d made the decision to become completely obsessed with the nerdy little freak in the first place.
