[Adult] [He/It] [single, here for everyone] [im a man, i dont care what you see or hear im a man and I deserve to be treated like one] [⚠️content warning. extremely nsfw when i want to be⚠️] ["if you could, would you fly away?"-🔻🕷️]
In the mood to have a guy with a vibe in sit on the edge of my bed. I want to sit behind him and be pressed all up against his back. He’s got a toy in and I have the control for it on the app, and yes that’s fun in of itself, but I want to put my phone right in his view in front of him and move the vibes up and down so he can see and feel what I’m doing. It would be even more fun to put his finger on the screen as I use his finger to move the controls up and down hehe. Feeling his body shiver from the feeling but also feeling his body buzz and shake from the toy, him leaning his head back onto my shoulder…. Ugh when
(I've never written for this man before, but I thought I'd give it a try. I'm pretty sure it's out of character, and it's really short, and I don't really like the way it turned out. I hope at least one person likes it!)
You, The Editor's lovely secretary, were a literal angel. Ironic considering your boss was such a little shit, constantly causing issues for competitors and the everyday man simply to amuse himself. He was known for kidnapping, murder, and potpurri after all. Sure, he wasn't the best fella, but he paid you well...so you didn't question his methods too much.
Today, The Editor had been going from job to job and only stopped by for about ten minutes at a time randomly, and it was usually just to grab something like a fresh change of clothes not covered in blood or more gloves for murder-y purposes. So, you took on most of the responsibility for the day while he was busy! You made sure all calls and emails were answered, paperwork was finished and filed, and played dumb to any authorities questioning what your boss was really up to.
Meanwhile, The Editor was utterly distressed for at least a decent portion of the day. In private he complained in the backs of cabs to his cyborg body guards, then forced a smile and his typical jovial and nonchalant behavior when in public. It was positively quite exhausting trying not to flat out let your emotions show on your face when someone randomly says the stupidest thing you've ever heard...but at least he usually got to murder them. Well, perhaps not totally him, his cyborgs did most of it...but a little manslaughter was always good for the soul.
When The Editor finally returned, he went to his private office without saying a word to anyone. He took off his glasses, dropping them onto the desk. He then sighed deeply and slumped down in his leather office seat. He was so exhausted. He muttered curses and complaints as he rubbed his temples with his index and middle fingers. He eventually sat up again though, and grimaced at the pile of paperwork sitting on his desk. He slipped his glasses back on...then realized something.
It was all already filled out...and it seems a decent portion had been filed away. Anything that hasn't been filed yet was simply important stuff The Editor had to know about, and it was actually a rather short pile. Next he checked his computer...no emails or messages to respond to. Okay? How about the answering machine...? Nothing there either. Who had done all this already? Not that he didn't appreciate it, oh he did, he was simply curious.
And he received his answer when you knocked on his office door, then entered and made your way over to his desk...setting down a mug of coffee made just the way he liked it. Ah, of course; his lovely secretary, and technically his right hand woman. You must've kept the place running while he was gone. He sighed in relief and accepted the mug, taking a sip and nodding in approval. He smiled faintly and spoke up. He was too prideful to say thank you, so instead...
"I swear, I'd marry you if I wasn't such a playboy."
consider. you. smoking weed. me, on my knees with my mouth open. you, gripping my jaw between your fingers and forcing my mouth open to shotgun the smoke down my throat. the room gets hazier and my brain slows down until i whine into your mouth. you allow me to grind against your boot, your thigh, anywhere i can reach except your cock. i am a drooling desperate mess with a throbbing puppycunt <3
just before you're getting ready to close for the night, jack stumbles into the little & big bar, covered in blood from his latest case...
"good cheese jack, what the hell happened to you?"
you gently grabbed his arm, not missing the hiss of pain coming from him, and guided him towards one of the chairs near you. once he was sat down, you quickly locked the doors and went to get the first aid kit.
when you returned with the supplies, you noticed the private investigator had already taken off his trench coat. you couldn't help but wince at the sight of his bloody shirt.
jack noticed and gave you a weak smirk, "that bad, huh?"
you sighed and shook your head. setting the supplies on the table, you sat down and pointed at his bloodied shirt.
"shirt off, jack. can't help you with that in the way."
with a huff, jack removed his shirt, revealing two nasty gashes across his chest. you quickly began to work on removing the dried blood before doing anything else.
as you worked, you tried your best to not stare at some of his old scars that seem to be scattered all around his chest and stomach.
you already knew about jack's past as a soldier and police officer. seeing him with scars shouldn't be surprising, but you were shocked on just how many he had.
your thoughts were halted when jack's rough voice broke through the silence that had settled in the bar.
"thanks for doing this, doll." jack let out a tired sigh as you began to cover up his wounds with a gauze. "i would have done this on my own if i didn't feel like i was about to pass out. sorry."
you shook your head and gave him a smile. "for you, jack? i'll be happy to help you with anything."
this caused him to perk up, giving you a questioning look. you rolled your eyes and continued to finish patching him up. "you're always helping out those who need it. and you've helped me a couple times in the past too."
you leaned back as you studied his patched wounds, once again doing your best not to stare for too long. when you were sure that nothing was amiss, you began to pack the supplies back in the box.
"it wouldn't feel right to just leave you on your own with everything you do for the people of this city," you gave him a genuine smile, one that he returned back at you. "so don't be sorry, okay? i'm always willing to help you."
I need my partner to tie my arms above my head and lift my shirt up exposing my stomach and take a very conveniently placed knife and graze my skin and as i buck up into his hand it ends up cutting deeper then they meant for it to and i cant help but cry and moan as it stings more than it should yet turns me on wayyy more than it should fuckkk i need them to claim me as theirs and brand me
One one hand i really hate the fact that i have a strong country accent, im scared my partner wont be able to understand me. BUTTT on the other hand i would love for them to ride me as i lose all control trying to hide my accent and have no choice but to basically get the country fucked back into me
need to be inside a really loud boy right now. need to listen to him gasp as he gets past the initial stretch. watch him whine about how i'm going too slow when i try to be gentle, then moan about how "he can't take it", "i'm gonna break him", "it's too much", when i give him what he asked for. need to watch his eyes go all unfocused and glossy after his second orgasm and i'm still rutting into him. bonus point if he cries
