spoiler alert: ethan wasn’t at econ class.
no, around this time he was usually at your apartment (or the closest thing to it if you couldn’t wait any longer) being pushed down to his knees so he could bury his face in the place you needed him most.
he always looked so pathetic, desperately lapping up every last drop while rocking you back and forth on his tongue. his fingers squeezed tightly onto the meat of your thighs, so hard you’re sure there’d be marks in the morning.
ethan did everything you told him to – speed up, slow down, add a finger – whatever you wanted. he was pliant, easily molded with just a simple touch from you.
more so when your hands would drop down to pull and tug at his hair, pulling him closer to your cunt. as expected, ethan’d let out whines and moans, sending vibrations through your body. his begging and pleading was muffled, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care.
all he was worried about was making sure you feel good.
