Blood N’ Guts

SMS Message: Home tomorrow.

Sender: Leon S.K.

You jumped up from the couch as you read it, the words shaking on the screen you held with trembling hands.

You didn’t think he’d come home so soon. You didn’t think he’d come home at all.

The next 18 hours were a blur, and then you heard it: the purr of a familiar motor in the driveway. It stopped you dead in your tracks, standing as still as a statue in the kitchen. You tensed as you waited for the sound of footsteps outside— held your breath as you heard the key in the lock— watched unblinkingly as the handle turned— when Leon walked through the door, time itself went still.

For a moment, all you could do was stare. You didn’t know what to expect. Every mission changed him, and you didn’t know what new version of him would walk through the door now, or how to react to it. And the stakes had never been higher.

The days before his departure were spent mostly in silence, doing little else except hold each other as his departure neared every second. You both knew the two likely results: he’d either die in the place it all began or come home even closer to death’s door. He’d wait for his disease to slowly consume his soul while he made his own funeral plans, and you’d stay close to your gun to prepare for the moment he went cold.

You’d spent the time between his text and now clinging to hope and preparing yourself for the worst. You’d never felt as fragile as the moment he opened the door.

He looked your way as the lock clicked behind him. It was only a few seconds, but they expanded into eons as you searched him for signs of bad news. A knit in his brow, or a downward tug of his lips. Traces of tears he may have wiped away in the car before you could see them. His steely eyes filling with grief.

But you didn’t see any of that. Instead, he grinned and held his arms out wide.

You flew crashing into them. He was steady, firm, and tight as you clutched your fists into the back of his shirt. His arms wrapped around your head and he kissed the top of it softly, swaying you ever so slightly because he was too overcome to stand still.

For minutes, all you did was stand in the doorway and hold. That was the quiet choreography of all of his homecomings, though it never felt routine. Each time it had a different weight, and this one was the heaviest yet by far.

When you finally were able to pull away, you scanned him again for signs of injury, physical or otherwise. You knew him like you knew yourself, and even the most imperceptible changes never got past you.

Your eyes widened when they dropped to his neck.

You didn’t have to ask; he already knew the question. He answered it, still smiling, his voice gravelly and low, soft and tired, but not weary. All of it built up your hopes until he finally spoke it into reality.

“I’m alright, baby.”

His hands grazed your face, and you nearly flinched at the feeling of his bare fingertips purely out of habit. You’d spent months of him preventing you from coming into contact with his infected tissue. But then you realized what you were feeling: real skin sans leather, flesh devoid of flaw. His fingers were roughened from calluses and nothing more, complete with his wedding band returned to its rightful place.

Your eyes watered in disbelief and awe. A trepidatious smile grew on your lips as he cupped your cheek in his palm. You covered his hand with your own and pressed into the warmth while your other hand traced up his torso, until you were grazing over the skin of his neck and nudging down his shirt collar.

It was free of all black-rotted dry patches, no cracks on the surface to be seen. Nothing but a fresh scar you didn’t need to ask about right now. Right now, all that mattered was that he was whole and solid, returned to his natural state, totally healed and hot-blooded under the surface.

Your breath hitched at his body heat. Oh, how you missed his skin.

“You’re really okay..?”

The words were small and barely squeaked out. You didn’t want false hope. You needed to know the healing was more than just skin deep. His reaction assuaged all fears.

“Yeah. I really am.”

The truth took a moment to permeate the air. When it did, he took you in a kiss so firm and certain, it crushed all remaining doubt.

You met it fiercely, pushing yourself against his torso to feel him closer. Your hands threaded into the hair on the nape of his neck as he wrapped his arms around to hold you firmly in place.

Your tongue darted out first, or maybe his did, you couldn’t say. And from there, it happened fast.

His hands moved to the back of your head, then your waist, and then your ass, where they couldn’t help but grope and lift until your legs wrapped around him and he held you in the air. You grabbed his face as your lips parted wider to allow his tongue further inside. He roughly kicked off his boots and then he was walking. He kept kissing you all the way through— he didn’t need to open his eyes, he knew where he was going.

Your back met the cool blankets on your bed and then he was crawling over you, caging you under him in the dark. You wrapped your hands around his biceps and felt the muscles flex as he lowered himself to kiss down your neck, covering each square inch of skin with his sloppy, desperate kisses.

“I feel better than I have in years. Spent the whole trip home waiting to show you.”

'To prove it to you' was in the subtext.

He returned to your mouth hotly and grinded his hips into your center, the friction of his jeans against the soft fabric of your home clothes making you keen into the toe-curling feeling. He pulled his shirt over his head and you took the opportunity to speak.

“Turn the lamp on, need to see you.”

He made quick work of reaching over to it, and then you shuddered as your palms felt the expanse of his abdomen. Tight ab muscles, beefy pectorals, and broad shoulders. The sight you never got sick of that made up his brawny form. All of it healed and renewed.

He kept grinding while you took him in. Your arms went up and around and down again, nearly worshipping the flesh. But when you yanked at his belt, he stopped you with his hands around your wrists, bringing them to each side of your head and caging you in again.

“Spent too much time thinking about what I’m gonna do to you.” He sat back up and you kept your arms where he fixed them as he began to pull at the elastic waistband of your bottoms. He kissed your exposed navel and you shivered as he mumbled into you. “Need’ta show you how I’ve always wanted to fuck you.”

You never felt like his age held him back much in the bedroom— his job relied on stamina and endurance, and though his job was physically demanding and he was not quite in his prime, the toll was mostly seen in the back pain after; it hardly showed in the moment. As his hands and mouth traveled every inch of exposed skin like a starving animal, you wondered if you could even handle him giving you something more. The thought of finding out went straight between your legs.

His mouth went straight there, too.

You nearly yelled as he dove into your cunt with a fervent tongue, lapping and sucking and messily making out with your folds, his thumbs kneading to pull open the soft fatty skin of your vulva. He wasn’t interested in wasting any time on teasing, clearly.

Your thighs clenched around his head and a hand pushed against his head reflexively to fight off the sudden intensity, but it was useless. The pressure of your legs around his head only spurred him on until your cunt was soaked in spit– it certainly wasn’t your own wetness– he devoured every ounce that escaped before it could go anywhere but his mouth.

You bucked and twitched as you cried out his name. “Leon, Leon, s’too much, holy— fuck, Leon—” but he only spread your thighs and kept your there, pointing his tongue to circle sharply around your clit.

“I’m just getting started, baby,” he said, sucking your clit into his mouth and letting go with a flilthy noise, “thought I’d never taste this sweet cunt again, gonna drink my fucking fill.”

Your head fell back as he dove back in, steady and thorough and obscene. You took deep breaths, although they were more like hitched pants and moans until you acclimated to the sensation. He hummed as he felt you melt under him and added a single finger inside, groaning when you arched into it.

He slowed down, his finger rocking and curling in and out and his tongue lapping at you. You looked down to see his darkened eyes gazing at his work between tastes, and you shuddered as he licked his lips before retracting all touch. Your hips flinched upwards to beckon him to return, but he didn’t. He met your eyes and reveled in your wanton expression as he sucked you off his fingers, never breaking eye contact as he rose to kneel between your parted legs.

He finally began to do away with his jeans, and something changed in his tone as he did. You shivered with desire as you watched him move. It was deliberate and slow. He was undressing like a threat.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen…”

His belt fell with a thud against the ground—

“I’m gonna fuck you until you cry…”

The button fell apart with a flick of his wrist—

“Fill you so full of cum you’ll be dripping ‘til next week…”

The zipper seemed to ache as it slowly parted open—

“And you’re gonna fucking take it.”

Unhurriedly and never once looking away from you, he pushed his pants and boxers down until his thick cock sprang free. You whined at the sight of it, eyes fixed where it hung in the air. It was dark pink– definitely darker than usual– his hot blood expanding every vein. He was harder than you’d ever seen him, a full display of the immensity of his desire, so much that it nearly looked painful. When a bead of precum began to appear on his tip, your mouth watered for it.

Your eyes scanned upward as you realized he’d stopped talking and was kneeling there in wait while you stared. You took in his form on the way up; the way his abs tightened with every throb of his cock, the striations of his brawny arms, the few new cuts over old scars. The heavy rise and fall of his chest as he held back for the last time tonight.

And then, you saw his face. His chin was slightly raised as if he was looking down on his next confirmed kill. His lips were still glistening with slick as they were pulled into something not unlike a snarl. His hair was halfway in his eyes, but it did nothing to conceal the intent within them.

“You think you can handle that?”

Your eyes fleeted to his navel, only for a second, assessing him like a loaded gun that was aimed right at you. His hands held his clothes in tight fists and his cock leaked with pre.

You met his eyes again and blinked as you nodded and choked out a needy, “yes,” and your gulp gave away your uncertainty. But that only seemed to spur him on.

He fell forward; suddenly, his face was inches away from your own, one hand on the mattress beside your head to hold himself up, the other yanking his pants off as quickly as he could.

“You know what to say if you can’t,” he grumbled, hunkering down to glide his tip against you until it notched against your entrance, “because telling me to stop won’t be enough.”

He grabbed your wrist at the same time he violently drove in, knowing you’d leap from it and keeping you there anyways. You were nothing but a mess of yelps and moans as he beat his way inside, clawing against his back and shoulders. A single finger wasn’t enough to ready you for this, and the knocks against your cervix were only soothed by the equal force against your g-spot.

Each merciless pounding of his fat cock stretched your walls to their limit, and he truly didn’t give you any other option but to take it. You groaned at the way he used his broad build to keep your legs open to him, every ounce of muscle that you were no match against weighing down to pin you there.

With an arm wrapped under you to hold you by the back of the neck and the other tightening in the hair on the crown of your head, he caged you in to face him. But your dizzy eyes were squeezed shut and could only open to roll back into your skull.

He shook you lightly by the hair. “Look at me,” he growled. You mewled as you attempted it, but your glossy eyes went straight back behind your eyelids. He did it again, harder, pistoning up to fuck you harder, too. “Look at me, you fucking bitch.”

The shock of his words made your eyes shoot open with a gasp and a furrowed brow, far removed from the gentle reverence he held you in at the door. His gaze bore straight into you with a scowl, his adoration replaced with possession.

He was terrifying. Unhinged. A madman on the loose inside of you. A killer who lashed against your walls with uncalculated raw power. Though you could only see his face, it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

While you were still reeling from the disparagement, he gritted angrily into your face, crowding you until your noses nearly touched.

“Who owns you?”

You could only attempt to answer, your voice breaking into a sputtering moan as he bottomed out harshly again and again, not needing any of the great focus it took you to speak.

The pitiful noise you’d made wasn’t good enough for him. He squeezed the sides of your neck and you arched off the bed, but that only sent your body flush against his, which didn’t make you any clearer-headed.

“Tell me who fucking owns you.”

You felt like you were floating as your brain was cut off from blood flow, and out of care for your own wellbeing, you managed to answer him.

“Y-you, Leon—“

He let go of the pressure and smirked as you gasped. “Mouth not so good for talking right now, huh? Only good for one thing?”

He unclasped his fingers from your hair and brought them to your chin, delving into your parted lips to hook around your bottom teeth. You let your jaw fall open and watched in shock as he spat inside.

“Swallow it,” he commanded, fingers digging into your face as he pushed it shut. You shuddered as you did, and his own eyes rolled back now.

His head fell into the crook of your neck with a smoky groan. You felt hot puffs of air against your pulse as his hands became gentler, like he revered you for doing what he demanded.

“Gorgeous fucking girl… needed this cunt so bad, went through hell to get back home to you…”

His hold on you may have lessened, but his words held your heart in his fist and squeezed. He’d captured your thoughts so purely on the present, you nearly forgot the context.

Your arms were limp as they tried to wrap around his back, barely able to hold on as he moved with every pounding of his hips. But still, they searched him, chest filling with every inch they felt unmarred by disease, and your cunt pulsed as he searched you for places to grab. Your ebbing breasts, the small of your waist, the meat of your hips, landing finally on the underside of your knee where he changed the angle to impale himself even deeper.

You were losing it, and he could tell. He thrust upwards to meet where your hips rose to help him land in that perfect spot and he kissed your jugular— first a peck, then an open-mouthed kiss, and then a full-on lick of his tongue.

Your legs trembled under him. “Leon, I’m, fuck, please,” you breathed.

He twisted your nipple and nipped under your ear as if to mock how it made you writhe. “Oh yeah? You sure you wanna cum so soon?”

‘So soon’ ..?

Maybe he wasn’t all talk when this started. Maybe that savage look in his eye wasn't a trick of the light. At this rate, he wasn’t going to fuck you until you cried, he was going to fuck you until you died.

But he wanted it. He lifted himself enough to sear your mouth with a kiss, his thrusts slowing momentarily to wedge his hand against your clit. He gathered the wetness between your bodies to easily rub against the silky nub. Your toes curled and your spine curved to seek the friction of his freshly calloused fingers. He deepened the kiss as you moaned, and it became all tongue so he could swallow the sounds in his throat.

He was debauched. Delirious. A bad man smiling as he plucked petals from a flower. Delightfully drowning himself in sin. All you could do was surrender as he brought you your undoing.

You came with wild cries and jolts of ecstasy, nails digging into his deltoids as he sped up even more. You watched him look down at his cock being covered in your cream, a ragged sound in his throat as you tightened around him with each wave of pleasure.

You panted sharply as you barely began to come down, and he lifted himself up on his haunches, kneeling between your legs as he soaked up the sight.

Once your half-lidded eyes met his, he grabbed your hips to brutally fuck you into him.

You clawed at the sheets as he used you like a toy. You won’t be surprised if your ass is speckled with fingertip-shaped bruises tomorrow. All you could see in front of you was your breasts recoiling from each thrust, and behind them, Leon lost in his own world of feeling. His head was tipped back and you saw the stubble under his chin— his pecs were flexed and flushed pink from the vigor— all of him covered in a light gloss of sweat that shone in the warm lamplight.

He was intoxicating to behold, and it was absolutely unfair, because you already lost the ability to think straight. Now you drank him in with your eyes, and you were totally inebriated.

Your moans turned into some kind of mumble. You didn’t know what words you were hoping to form, but it was something along the lines of a warning that he was approaching the realm of too much. He looked down at your babbling with a lust-filled, lazy smirk, all too pleased with himself already.

“Whatdya want, love? You drunk on my cock already?”

He slapped your clit and laughed lowly as you gasped and jolted, then propped your limp legs around him and barreled in even more. Steady, fast, and loud.

Thank god the apartment days were over or the cops would come any minute. Skin slapping against skin, the headboard banging dents into the drywall, you crying out for him like he was carving out your heart. A noise complaint in the making. But when he signed the property deed, it came with the right to make you scream, neighbors be damned.

And scream you did as he held you even tighter and thumbed your swollen clit, evoking your walls to seize in the way he needed to release. He leaned back with a sharp and airy shout, hips sputtering as you felt him unload deep inside, his remaining jerky movements making it trickle out around him.

You were a touch thankful as he slowed down and his hands rubbed soothingly on your thighs. You could finally catch your breath. But your graciousness was short-lived as he flashed a grin and flipped you onto your stomach. The breath was forced out of you as your chest fell into the mattress, and your eyes went wide as he lined himself back up, slowly pushing inside, his cum allowing his cock to slip easily inside regardless of how sore your folds already were.

You whined and knotted your fists into the fabric under you as he bottomed out and pulled away with slow and liquid motions. You heard the faintest laugh rumble in his chest before he spoke.

“I’m not anywhere near done with you,” he huffed.

You buried your head in the soft sheets below. Filled with his load and the promise of another, you felt totally and completely his. Exactly where you wanted to be. Right where you belonged. You couldn’t help but smile, until he moved and it was wiped off your fucked-out face.

He gripped the meat of your ass as he steadily picked up speed, the silver of his wedding band cold against you in contrast to the heat of your bodies. A wet spot collected underneath you from his cock coaxing out his cum with each thrust. The sounds were softer yet even more crude with your cunt so sopping wet.

“Gripping me so good, look at you,” he spread your cunt apart a little more, “goddamn, you’re perfect.”

You felt mildly embarrassed at the messy sight of you that he was undoubtedly staring at right now, but at the same time, you envied his view. To watch his cock disappear inside of your puffy and well-used folds, then withdraw covered in his cum and a healthy mix of your own. To view his strong hands holding you open, to see yourself laid out in submission.

But all you could do was feel, and that was more than enough to sate you. In fact, you were already well past satisfaction, and you kept having to refind your focus so you could keep taking more. You inhaled deeply as you felt the soreness at your entrance and reminded yourself to relax your body, sighing away the tension in the muscles you didn’t mean to flex: your thighs, your back, your shoulders. But then you’d feel the friction of his tip dragging against the gummy walls of your g-spot, and your mind was clouded by pleasure all over again.

He wasn’t going nearly as fast as before, but it was obviously a choice, and not one made out of tiredness or necessity. It just felt too good for him to change the rhythm. With your knees together as you lay prone, your canal was tightened in a way that made you feel dense and so, so warm around his tender cock. You always felt incredible to him, but if sex always felt like this, he wouldn’t just fuck you all night, he’d stay buried in you so long he’d risk starving to death.

You were each lost in your own minds as the feeling went on and on. The air was heady and thick as you breathed against the blankets, and Leon was humping into you like waves rolling into shore– fluid motions that still crashed onto the shore or your center, followed by another and another, a constant ebb and flow that lulled you deeper into euphoria.

“Feels s’good, Leon, oh my god… d-don’t stop.” Your voice was laced in awe.

“Really fucking does… shit…”

The words were airy and held just as much wonderment as yours had. He traced a hand down the valley of your spine, revering the body that gave him such immeasurable bliss. Knowing that he was feeling the same seventh heaven you were made you feel even more connected to him, and your toes curled at the thought.

It kept going, and going, and going. You couldn’t tell how long it remained exactly like that, neither of you searching for your next orgasm, just totally and completely captured by the present. Time wasn’t something that existed in the room. It was a long time, but it’d never be enough.

He groaned as you felt his hips stutter involuntarily as the next thrust landed even deeper inside. The unexpectedness hit you both and turned it back into something needier. The next thrust snapped against your ass and you arched into the air to meet it. He shifted to hold you firmly as he set on a new wanton speed.

You mewled as you keened into him, legs parting slightly to make room for any spare length he had to give, and gripped the sheets as his balls began to slap against your clit. Each time he crashed against your walls, you felt them begin to bloom with electric want, and you braced against the bed to push yourself back into his thrusts as they became gritty, harsh pounds again.

He felt just the same as you, blood rushing to the parts of his brain that demanded another orgasm, and he felt every flutter of your walls around him that beckoned to milk him dry– exactly what he wanted you to do, to drain him until he had nothing left to give. He wanted to do whatever it took to make sure that fluttering didn’t stop.

He reached under you to rub your clit. You yelped as his fingers made contact, gliding easily against the cum-covered nub. His forearm was pressed against your navel, pinned between you and the mattress, and you could feel the size of his cock protrude against it from within you. Your legs spread even wider as you cried out, struggling to hold onto reality as he worked the thousands of nerve endings he’d already made oversensitive. Now, it bordered on torture.

The way you opened yourself only made it easier for him to find purchase to pound even harder, meeting the way you writhed and keened for more, his eyes rolling back as you bore down as if you were trying to squeeze him out. But all it did was drive him harder into all the right spots inside of you, and you were so overcome with sensitivity, you came before you even knew you were close.

And you came hard. Jolting and seizing as you cried his name, your eyes growing wet from the shock of it. He was loud as he reacted to the way you clenched and pulsed around him, your warm, slick cum covering his cock and making his movements sloppy and wet. And you were even louder as he kept going even harder.

He was surprised that he didn’t cum again right then and there, but it only galvanized him to pull your hips back and use you again. Your body was growing limp, you were shuddering and shaking, and his eyes widened with madness as he watched your face contort in pleasure. He was watching for signs that you’d say your safeword, too, but every moment that passed that you didn’t, he took as permission to fuck you even harsher.

Your head lolled and your lip quivered as you took it like a punishment, not a single coherent thought inside your head. You registered that he was close like white noise, simultaneously in the background and all around you. His hands seared in their grip on you as he hammered in once, twice, and then held himself deeply inside with broken rasps and moans. Your lips fell open as you felt his fresh load mingle with the first, pooling hot against your cervix.

He pulled out with a violent hiss, and you cried out as the fluid stung against your sore opening. Your legs trembled until they collapsed back onto the bed along with the rest of your body.

You were vibrating from the inside out, still reeling from how aggressive both of your orgasms were. You could hear him catching his breath, too. You twitched as you felt him touch the outside of your cunt, bracing yourself for more, relaxing when he only stroked the outside. He drew his fingers up and down the crease of your folds, languid and smooth, leisurely playing in his overflow. He pressed them in once just to watch you jolt, and then cleaned them off with his mouth.

He finally gave you a break and turned his focus to taking care of you. By the way you lay there limp, he knew you needed it. He peppered you with kisses as you floated in the afterglow, sprinkling them softly on your rear, up your spine, and onto your shoulder blades, until he placed one on your cheek.

He brushed your frazzled hair away from your face and the corner of his mouth pulled into a smile at the absolute state of you. But then the lamplight reflected off a tear and he furrowed his brow as he gently wiped it away.

“You with me, sweetheart?”

He chuckled at the small sound you made in acknowledgement, the only thing you had effort to respond with. He placed a kiss onto your head.

“Did so good for me, love. So perfect.”

He grunted as he laid down, pulling your back into his chest to spoon you. You weakly held onto his arm as it wrapped around your torso, shifting back into him to steal his body heat.

You closed your eyes with a sigh as you soaked in the way he took care of you after such a brutal display of lust. His thumbs circling against your sweat-damp skin, nose nuzzling against your hair, gravelly voice soothing you with praise.

“M’so glad to be home, baby. You always made me feel young again, but it’s almost like I am young again. Don’t want to take it for granted. Gonna take some time off, take you on vacation, let you see the world. Might fuck you on every continent.”

You giggled at his ambition, still high on happy chemicals and swimming in the dream he laid out. It’d be a significant change, him enjoying the fruits of his labor with things more permanent than gifts and fast cars. You always encouraged him to, but he said it’d be easier for him to cope with losing a material possession than a vacation being ruined by being called on a mission. You hoped it wasn’t just the endorphins talking.

“Yeah, you like that idea? Good, ‘cause I mean it.” He kissed under your ear and squeezed you in closer. “Wanna spend every day making you happier than ever, make up for how long I was sick. Can’t waste any of ‘em not fucking you the way you need me to.”

You gasped as you felt his half-hard cock twitch against your ass, instinctively arching back into it. A shiver ran over your skin as he pressed it against you in turn, and you realized he still wasn’t done, confirmed by the way his voice darkened against your ear and he started kneading your breast in his hand.

His kisses against your pulse turned open-mouthed and erotic, one hand pinching your hardening nipple as the other reached for his cock, slowly stroking himself with the tip resting against your sopping hole. You were so flush together that with each wave of bloodflow that grew him towards full-hardness, it breached your pulsing entrance without him even trying.

Your toes curled as he leisurely thrust into one centimeter at a time. It was just enough of a tease to eat away your apprehension. You really weren’t sure how much more you could take, but as he shallowly fucked his tip into you, you became increasingly desperate for more, until you were squirming and panting in his arms.

You gasped as he suddenly pushed halfway in, feeling your folds and your entrance smart in their soreness. Just a few minutes left empty and you needed time to accommodate him all over again. He wasn’t quite as big as before after two orgasms, but with his size, being slightly smaller was still pretty fucking huge. And now you needed to adjust to more than his size; you needed to adjust to your own overstimulation, too.

He thrust halfway in and stilled there, holding you tight to prevent you from backing into it, feeling your legs shake around him.

You already couldn’t walk, he was sure of it. But it must be well past midnight now. Did you need to use your legs tonight anyways? He decided that you didn’t. Might as well make them truly useless.

He bottomed out in one smooth, sharp thrust, aided by the lubricant of the two creampies inside. His eyes rolled back as he stayed there for a brief moment, just long enough to feel you throb around his cock, like your body was begging him to make it three.

He’d never cum that many times in a row before, not even in his prime. But now, he felt like he’d entered a new prime, and he wanted nothing more than to see just what his limit was. He wondered if he’d reach yours first. But you were a tough girl, he thought. You took him like you were made for it.

His navel thumped against your ass as he drove in with that goal in mind: find out how much cum he could stuff inside your cunt until one of you tapped out.

He started steadily, knowing it’d take him longer to find his finish a third time, and seeing how you were already a mess of moans, both from pleasure and physical overwhelm. It boosted his ego to know he was pacing himself for you much more than for himself.

You felt like an unraveled spool of thread. You couldn’t believe he had the stamina for another round, his age considered or not. You were shocked you could keep going yourself. But at the same time your swollen cunt ached around him, it sucked him in for more.

He twisted your head back to take you in a kiss, swallowing your moans as he beat fast inside again. You reached back to hold onto any part of him you could until your senses were once again flooded and you melted open to him.

“That’s it, relax for me. Just one more, baby, gonna fill you to the brim. Fucking take it.”

especially when you wear one of his shirts; fuck, its like looking at a piece of art. the most divine piece of art, to be more specific. so cute, so small— all of you. swallowed by his shirt and looking so comfy in it. and sometimes your nipples harden and poke through the fabric, which drives him fucking insane.

so insane that he can’t help but reach out and cup them, sometimes can’t help but twist the buds between his fingers just to feel you squirm and hear you whimper. can’t help but pull you into his lap so he can reach his hands around and squeeze, cock hardening almost instantly at the feel of the soft flesh so pliant in his large hands.

“such pretty fucking tits,” he murmurs as he does so, breath heavy and darkened, lungs shuddering with the pressure of how turned on he is. “love groping you like this, baby. god, so fuckin’ hot.” you feel so good pressed against him, so fragile in his arms; his own sweet, pretty girl with the sweetest, prettiest tits.

but, oh, you’re so embarrassed by them. mutter about how small they are. that there isn’t even much there— that you don’t even know what he’s grabbing.

but you’re also moaning, so soft and hot, hips grinding over the bed below you and ass softly bumping against his throbbing cock. and when pulls one hand away to slip it between your legs, your pussy is already drooling a puddle into your panties.

“fuuuck, sweetheart,” he drawls, gut tense while his cock springs up in his sweats. “mmm, so fuckin’ wet. aww, does this pretty girl need attention too, hm? does she need my fingers, baby? yeah?”

you’re nodding so adorably, breath hitching as he slides his middle and ring finger through your puffy folds, spreading them so gently before expertly finding your clit and rubbing it in a circular motion that has you breaking into high mewls.

and your body moves like a wave, chest arching further into his touch and hips squirming to rub your achy clit into his hand. fuck, your pussy pulses when he finally decides to push his fingers inside, velvet walls sucking on them so gooey and sweetly.

“that’s it, dove.” he coos, lips caressing the skin of your neck. “feel good, pretty girl. jus’ feel good f’me. lemme make this pretty body feel good.”

he’s so hard it fucking hurts, cock begging to be touched. to be squeezed. to be jerked and milked until his balls wrench and his head turns fuzzy. but he’s patient; god he’s patient. he waits until he’s fingerfucked your pussy into a melted, drool-y mess before he even lays you down to fuck you into oblivion.

and when he’s finally fucking you? god, he just loves watching your tits bounce to the rhythm of his thrusts. you’re convinced they don’t; but god, they do.

and it’s so, so fucking hot.

“so goddamn perfect,” he growls, eyes torn between watching your face and chest. he doesn’t really know which is prettier, which one he wants to focus on the most.

“body’s fucking perfect, baby. fuck, i— i love you. ya hear me? fuckin’ love you— and your fuckin’— nnngh— sweet body.”each word is punctuated by a deep, harsh thrust into your hot, squelching cunt; you can’t even fucking think right now, wrists pinned above your head and pussy stuffed so full. body simply overwhelmed by pleasure.

you’re shaking, trembling, breaking apart— his cock feels so good inside you, sliding against your gooey walls and kissing your deepest parts; his thrusts are aimed and designed to make you lose your mind, to make you clench and squeeze around him. to make you cum yourself stupid.

“atta fuckin’ girl,” he groans between wet slaps of skin. “takin’ my cock so good, yes, you are. fuck, so pretty. shit— need’a taste, baby.”

at first, you aren’t sure what he’s talking about. but then his head drops down and his hot lips are wrapped around your nipple, tongue flicking fast over the hardened nub.

and you can’t help but arch into that heat, into the attention. moans spill from your mouth while more slick coats his cock, making the slide so much messier. so much deeper. so overwhelmingly intense. too fucking good. he’s making you go so dumb for him.

your second orgasm of the night twists inside your gut before you can even register it, the combined sensations of his mouth working your sensitive nipple and his cock plowing into you over and over simply too much— and when he reaches his hand down to rub harsh circles into your puffy clit, it’s over.

it’s hot when it hits, fiery and white, almost blinding. your cunt pulses and you clit throbs under his fingers, eyes rolling back and body arching straight into his.

“that’s it, oh, fuck yes— i’ve got you, baby, let go f’me… fuck, your cunt— squeezin’ so tight. god, you’re gorgeous— fuck, keep comin’ on m’cock, baby.” he murmurs as he fucks you through your orgasm, mouth still hot over your tit, fingers rubbing you so fast that your thighs start to tremble and your hips quake.

it’s becoming too much too fast, that pleasure morphing into something sharp and uncomfortable as your high recedes. like liquid lightning shooting through your veins.

he’s not done, though. he still wants to worship those pretty, sweet tits of yours. wants to keep them in his mouth and hands. wants to feel them squished against his chest. it’s not his fault; he’s just obsessed with them…