currently thinking about sweaty post-workout sex with max
warnings: f!reader, oral m!receiving, unprotected!p in v, little bit of manhandling, dom!max, name calling (in a sexy way)
you have a thing for watching him whilst he's working out. a real problem, actually.
its not just because his designated gym was literally the spare room in your apartment (god forbid he actually went anywhere else when this was so much more convenient for you) but something drew you to him as soon as you would hear that door shut.
you'd try to join in (maybe once or twice) but you both decided you were better at spectating. every shift of his body would make your core ache. the way his back would flex when he lifted, how his arms would bulge through his t shirt, how the sweat would run in little rivulets down his chest once the t shirt had come off.
but it would be his legs that really did you in. those fucking thighs. so big, so solid, the kind of strength you could feel just from looking. the way his shorts would ride up when he squatted, or when he bent over. or when he’d grunt low through his reps, his brows furrowed, jaw clenched, oh the sounds he made would have you picturing much dirtier things than lifting weights.
you’d try to act casual, watching from your mat on the floor, pretending to stretch. but your eyes would always land back on the same thing, and that was the beautiful piece of ass you called your boyfriend. and you better believe that he'd always catch you looking, and he’d always sport a cheeky smirk.
so when he would come back to the hotel room after a run, his face flushed and a towel flung around his neck, you couldn't help but feel your panties getting slick the second he walked through the door.
gonna shower, he’d mumble as he passed, peeling off his shirt, his breathing still a little jagged. but your hand would reach out and catch his wrist.
no, your voice would come out soft, mimicking his. c'mere.
he’d pause and really look at you. you'd give him puppy eyes, almost pleading, and his cock would twitch in his shorts, not being able to resist the hunger in your stare.
you’d step closer, pressing your hands to his bare chest. his skin would be warm, sticky under your touch with sweat. it would cling to your fingers when you’d trace down over his stomach, tongue darting out to lick your bottom lip just thinking about how he’d taste.
i really need to shower, schatje, he’d murmur, but his voice was already slipping, like he couldn’t decide if he actually needed to shower or let you do whatever you were thinking about.
later, you'd say as you kiss his jaw, slow and open-mouthed. let me taste you first.
he’d let you drop to your knees, his head already thrown back. he’d stand there, his chest rising and falling, glancing at you as you pressed your face to his lower stomach, mouthing at his skin. his shorts would be soaked at the waistband, the scent of him hitting you full force; musky, raw, just plain fucking addictive. it would make your mouth water like a rabid animal.
you’d mouth over his cock through the fabric, licking at the damp spot forming at the head, humming low when you felt him twitch beneath your lips. he’d groan, one hand in your hair, pulling you back gently.
fuck, you're really into this, huh, he’d whisper. you thought about this before?
you’d nod, your hands motioning for him to pull his shorts down.
he'd let go of your hair and let you do it yourself and god, he’d already be rock hard, the whole thing an angry shade of red. precum glistened at the tip, and you have to lick that up first, just to hear him whine.
you’d kiss his tip, tease the slit with the tip of your tongue until he’d hiss and mutter, stop teasing me, evil girl.
his hand would grasp your hair yet again, pulling you down, guiding your open lips over him. pushing in inch by inch until your mouth was full and your throat was stretched and your nose was pressed against the trimmed hair at the base. you’d moan around him, the vibrations nearly making him lose it.
fuck, your mouth was fucking made for me—
you’d start moving your head, steadily bobbing up and down with one hand playing with his balls, the other gripping his thigh. his muscles would flex under your palm, trembling just slightly as you worked him deeper. he’d let you go at your pace, but he wouldn’t be able to stay gentle with you. not when you were looking up at him like that. your eyes glistening wet, cheeks hollowed, drool pooling at the corners of your lips.
once he couldn't take it anymore, he’d start thrusting, forcing you to take him at his pace now. your throat would burn, your jaw aching at the sheer size of him.
but oh my fucking god, it would be so worth it.
you take me so well, don’t you? filthy little thing.
you’d hum in response, maybe even gag around him, a few tears escaping. you'd certainly keep going, his words only fuelling you. your hands would claw at his thighs, needing something to hold as he used your mouth.
he’d cum with a broken sound, his hips losing their rhythm, his cock twitching deep in your throat. his cum would be hot and thick, spurting onto the back of your tongue, and you’d swallow it all, tears all but spilling down your cheeks as he held you there just a second longer.
then he’d drag you up into his arms.
his mouth would crash into yours, his kiss sloppy, tasting himself on your tongue. he’d kiss you like he couldn’t get close enough, like the mess didn’t matter, like the sweat and spit just made it better.
we're not done yet, he’d whisper into your mouth, need more.
he’d bend you over the edge of the couch, one hand pushing between your shoulder blades, the other guiding his cock back to your soaked pussy. there would be no hesitation as he slides in all at once, the spit you'd left around him acting like a lubricant (not that you needed it) and the stretch would make you cry out.
fuck, max—
yeah, that’s it, he’d groan, thrusting deep. you're going to take it like the needy slut that you are, begging for it as soon as i come home
his chest would press to your bare back, sticky and hot. every inch of him would slam into you with a slick, obscene sound. his hand would slide up to your throat, just resting there, holding you upright as he fucked you like he couldn’t control himself.
so fuckin' tight. god, gonna think about this every time i do a workout now
you wouldn’t be able to answer, but the way your pussy squeezed around him told him everything he needed to know.
he’d kiss your neck, his teeth dragging over your skin, his hips snapping forward again and again, pushing you further down into the cushions on the couch.
you’d cum fast, your pussy clenching around him, crying out his name (max, max, maxie!) and that’s what would send him over the edge for the second time.
he’d spill inside you with a deep groan, his body collapsing over your back, trembling slightly. you could still feel sweat dripping off him onto your skin, which would only give you an excuse to join him in the shower.
next time, he’d breathe, voice cracking, you’re letting me fuck you at the gym.
you definitely wouldn’t have any complaints about that.
a/n: based on this request! max is actually my no 1 driver so this was a pleasure to write, thank you anon 💖
