halfway happy

And while you have intentionally strayed away from lingering too long in his trailer, he piqued your interest a little too much. 

You were in your last year of college, aiming to go to law school next fall. Buying weed would be a thing of the past soon, so you had been going a bit overboard with consumption. You smoked every night, a routine you developed last summer when your boyfriend dumped you and dropped out of school. Loneliness required some sort of substance, so weed was your vice. 

You got put in contact with Eddie’s friend first. A guy with long shiny black hair named Argyle. Typical surfer hippie dude who talked like he had a frog in his throat. When he told you that he had to stop selling, he had a kid on the way and needed to leave it in the past. So, he gave you Eddie’s contact. 

And from then on, you were Eddie’s favorite customer. 

Consistent. Polite. Always had the perfect amount of cash. 

But much to Eddie’s dismay, it was always the same interaction. “Hey, how’s it been?” You would ask with those beautiful eyes, your voice even and confident. 

He would look down at you, your baggie already tied up and ready for you to tuck into your small tote bag. “Lots of the same. How’s school?”

“Annoying,” or “Fine,” or his new favorite, “Making me borderline suicidal.”

Your quick tongue was Eddie’s favorite thing. When the conversation strayed, which didn’t happen often, he would drop everything to watch your animated explanations of stupid topics. But he wanted more from you. You were only chatty when something annoyed you, and while watching you get riled up over something was hot, you never gave him much else. 

At your last pick-up, you had to talk to someone about the party you were being forced to go to with your roommate. She was adamant that it was good for you to get out at least one more time before graduation. You could not say no to her. 

So as soon as you handed Eddie his normal $35, you sprang into ranting about the party. 

“I don’t even know anyone going! Except my roommate, and she has this guy she’s seeing. He’s a toolbag who acts like he’s better than anyone, all because he’s going to med school.” You grab the weed he has extended out to you, “So now I’m stuck rubbing elbows with a bunch of underclassmen. And on top of that, I know she’s probably going to try to get me drunk, and I don’t like drinking.” Eddie’s smirk shifts to curiosity, “Why not?”

“Because alcohol makes me… angry? I guess. I don’t know, but last time I got drunk, I almost started a bar fight. Eva had to drag me out and throw me in a cab.” He barks a laugh, slotting a cigarette between his plush pink lips. He cups the end with his hand and lights it up. “Well, please call me when that happens. I’d pay to see you fight someone.”

You watch his lips purse and blow out the smoke he inhaled. He wiggles his eyebrows playfully as you shake your head, trying to play innocent. 

“I’ll keep you updated. See you in a few days.”

He gives you a polite nod, taking another drag, “See you later, sweetheart.”

-

You were extremely underdressed. Your roommate could only convince you into wearing a lower-cut top, but god forbid you put on anything but jeans. 

You are held up in the corner, the music pounding against your eardrums. You had never been fond of house music, and the person in charge of the speakers was only pumping out techno beats and nonsensical lyrics. You are on your third cup of punch, trying to numb yourself to the environment. 

You cannot help but eavesdrop on the people around you. One guy was talking about the girl he hooked up with last night to his obviously uninterested friend. One couple is arguing about who would be drinking more and who is driving home. 

But one conversation towards the kitchen rings through your ears when the music quiets down.

“I have been buying from this guy… total fucking loser, but God, he’s hot.” The shrill of the voice catches your attention. You knew that voice. Karen Jacobs from your Sociology class. A sophomore who acted like she knew everyone. She was probably the most obnoxious and airheaded girl you knew from school. You turn around, your red solo cup loosely between your fingers. 

She’s talking to another girl from class, but you cannot fathom caring what her name is. You walk a bit closer, trying to see if she’s talking about you-know-who. You act like you are grabbing more punch from the pitcher nearby. 

“His name is Eddie. Apparently, he’s well-known amongst the frat guys. He gave me a good deal last week when I told him I was buying for a big party. So I did something I never do,” Your heart sinks to your ass. She did not. 

“I gave him head.”

You slam your cup down dramatically, anger slowly bubbling up your throat. You want to grab her hair and yank her to the floor, but your rational mind clocks in for its shift. 

You need to get into law school. 

Why were you acting so defensive, anyway? Eddie was not your special little secret, you know he deals to a ton of people. But this small tidbit about him pisses you off more than you care to ponder for long. 

Karen may be an idiot, but you know that Eddie simply took advantage of the situation. Of course, he would take some money off if a pretty girl were on her knees for him. 

So instead of dealing with her in front of everyone and forcing information out of her, you decide to direct your attention to the real culprit of your anger. 

You push your way through the house, spilling out onto Frat Row and storming down the street. Eddie’s trailer park was right outside of campus and was only about a 10-minute walk. 

You are practically speed walking like those old ladies in the mall on Sunday mornings. The pent-up anger you had was only building when you had time to think.

Eddie was about 12 years older than you, give or take. Which means he was about 15 years older than Karen. 

Was he doing this to other girls? Giving them discounts for sexual favors? It made your skin crawl, especially since you have established a sort of rapport with him. He was flirty, sure, but never acted like he was expecting something from you. 

Were you not good enough for a discount? Were you just so ugly and annoying that he didn’t even think to give you a good deal? Were you paying too much for the weed?

When his trailer comes into view, you stop in your tracks. Were you actually going to confront him?

But then you get a flash of Karen between his legs, and suddenly you are enraged. 

You stomp through his lawn, catching a glance inside. He and a couple of his friends seem to be smoking and drinking, with the lights pretty low. You pound on the door, announcing who it was, so you would not scare them too much. God forbid he thinks it’s the cops. 

When the door opens, he looks good. Even better than your drunk mind could mock up. His long flowing hair on his shoulders, curly and a bit frizzy. He is tall and mostly always wearing some metal band’s merch. This time it’s a muscle t-shirt, showing off his inked skin. He’s not wearing jeans, though. Instead, he is sporting some baggy black sweatpants and house slippers. It almost makes you laugh. 

“Hey pretty girl, everything g-”

You push him backward, weaseling your way inside his home. He is taken off guard for a moment, confused by your sudden intrusion. You look around the living room, spotting Argyle and two other dudes you have never seen before. 

“Hey, dude! Been a while!” Argyle says excitedly, stumbling towards you to give you a hug. He is so drunk he doesn’t really catch on to the angry heat radiating off your body. You know you probably look like an insane person, having not said anything to anyone as you shove your way into your drug dealer’s house. 

The horror of the situation settles when you realize that if these guys were evil and malicious, you are pretty outnumbered. A pretty college girl is probably all of their wet dreams. Especially Eddie’s, apparently. 

You eye each one of them when Argyle pulls away and finds his way back to his seat, finally feeling a weird vibe off you. 

“Can I talk to you?” You rumble, looking at Eddie’s conflicted eyes. He nods robotically, gesturing you to the nearby kitchen. His hand touches your arm, only slightly, but it practically sears your skin. 

He goes to the fridge, pulling out two cans of cheap beer. He gestures one to you, almost like he’s making a peace offering. 

But it’s just what you need. More alcohol. 

You snatch it from him, cracking it quickly and taking a big swig. 

You have never seen Eddie so concerned. 

“Did something happen with what I gave you-”

You put your hand up, laughing like he told you a stupid joke. “Did you fuck Karen Jacobs?”

His eyes go wide, hiccuping up some of the beer he just took into his mouth. You have never seen him caught off guard, and somehow he’s even more painfully sexy.

“Who?” He rasps, shifting so he can lean against his kitchen island. You laugh again, the heat building up around your neck. His arms strain under his half-sleeved shirt, and it is making you insane.

“You gave her a good deal. She gives you head and you give her a big ole’ supply of weed.” He waves the hand with the beer, placing it haphazardly on the counter. “Who told you this?” “Karen Jacobs.”

He huffs, shaking his head. Eddie did not want you to find out about his escapades with random college girls who practically threw themselves at him. He assumed you would not associate with a bunch of bimbos like them. You were smarter and way more mature than any other girl he let jerk him off. 

He would probably never see them again, and if he did, he would never offer them the infamous discount he gave them originally. But none of them came back, ever. So sure, he would fuck around with some of them to ease the tension he felt in his jeans sometimes. 

Any pretty girl could wrap their lips around his cock and bring him to completion. 

But with you, he worked up this whole scenario in his head that he would replay in his head every night as he jerked his cock. You looking so beautiful and ethereal under him, your soft skin practically malleable like clay as you bent to his every move. You would give him some snarky comment that he would retort to, and he would put you in your place.

He was a perv. 

Formulating the perfect daydream to fist his cock to. And they always star you.

Silence fills the kitchen, and all you can hear is the movie playing in the living room. Eddie’s friends have grown silent. You take the rest of the beer in your mouth, swishing it around, trying to disassociate the disgusting taste. 

“I knew she would go spouting shit off to people,” He mutters, his hand going behind his neck to scratch awkwardly, “Why does it matter to you, anyway?”

That’s your confirmation. 

You scoff, crushing the can and tossing it in his sink. You stumble towards him, looking up at him with disdain. He stands up straighter, like he is sizing you up. But in actuality, he is preparing for you to fall over. 

“You’re disgusting,” You emphasize the word by dragging it out, pushing his chest with your pointer finger. Your mind draws a blank when you realize how warm he is and how cold your hand is against his Metallica t-shirt. 

The beer hits you all at once when you watch his face twist up into a smile. He got you right where he wanted you, and he did not even have to try. It was like those scenarios he mocks up at night.

You bring your other hand up, going to push him harder. 

Instead of doing that, Eddie stops you and grabs your wrist, his grip tight. “You never answered me, sweetheart. Tell me why it bothers you that I’m fucking my customers, hm?”

By the look on his smug face, he’s insinuating something. 

You clench your jaw, tilting your nose up at him. “I don’t like that you’re taking advantage of girls.”

He clicks his tongue, seeing right through your act. “I don’t think that’s why you stomped your way into my house at almost one in the morning. Tell me. Why. Does. It. Bother. You?”

You search his face, wanting nothing more than to slap the look off his face. He appears to be so proud, like he’s got you right under your thumb. Your eyelids are heavy, your crossfade suddenly making your body feel looser. You try to wiggle your arm out of his grip, and luckily, he just drops your wrist. 

“I never got an offer like that.”

Your looseness must have found your lips. You did not anticipate or even second-guess those words; they simply just tumbled out. 

He thought you looked so sweet. Feigning innocence when he knew exactly what you wanted out of coming here. The glint in your eye was making it too obvious.

His hands find your waist, backing you up against the counter again. The coldness of his rings on his left hand presses into your skin as your shirt rides up over your jeans. “You want me to make you an offer like that, sweets?”

You don’t know what to say, so you just shake your head ‘no’. 

“No? Then why does it bother you that I give that deal to other girls? You insecure? Jealous?”

You hate the way he’s speaking to you. And he’s doing it on purpose. The teasing had you admitting what you desired from him. Because while Eddie was a dirtbag, he was dead set on hearing precisely what you wanted. 

But for some sick reason, the tone of his voice makes your pussy throb. 

“I just like having options.” You shake your head at your own statement, biting the inside of your mouth like it was going to stop your drunk honesty. 

Eddie’s eyebrows fly up, covered by his messy bangs. “Options, huh? You want me to give you options? I deal to you and you hardly speak when you pick up.”

“You ever think it’s because you’re a bit intimidating?” You practically slur, leaning towards him a bit, “Your whole demeanor screams scary drug dealer.”

He laughs, cocking his head to the side like he is trying to get to the bottom of you. And he was. 

You don’t expect him to lean towards your ear. You never had him this close to you. Your entire body buzzed with anticipation and a bit of fear. 

“Maybe because I am, sweetheart,” He whispers, his fingers rubbing circles into your waist, “But it makes you feel better, I only keep around the ones I really like.”

You shake your head, trying to push down the moan that almost leaves your throat. “You say that to all the girls you deal to.”

He tuts, looking down between your bodies. He’s specifically scanning your body and the way your shirt is riding up a bit. “You’re the only girl who is consistently coming to me. The only woman.”

You know it is so wrong for him to make you feel this way. A man so much older. A man whose only job is selling young kids weed and who knows what else. But the attraction you felt for him initially has somehow morphed into something even more toxic. Possessive. 

“So what you are saying,” You ponder, jutting your hips out towards him, pressing your stomach into his, “Is you like me?”

He looks down at you, his eyes even darker than the usual chocolate brown they always were. 

Yep, right where he wanted you. 

Up and down. His fingers trace the belt loops of your jeans, moving away from your waist down to your hips. He is taking his time, ensuring the break in conversation is long enough to melt your brain. 

His hands reach your butt, his expansive palms grabbing a handful of your cheeks, “You are a perceptive one, huh?”

It’s becoming real the more he rubs his hands against you. The longing you had for him turning red hot and insatiable. You lock your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him down to you forcefully. 

Eddie is not expecting how eager you are to kiss him, and it shakes him to his very core. You slot your lips against his, humming when he returns it for the briefest moment. But he pulls away before you can push your tongue into his mouth. Your heart sinks when you open your eyes. He has this unreadable expression. 

“You aren’t running the program here, sweets,” He mumbles, his eyes practically glued to your shiny lips. “Now, I’m gonna go tell the guys the party is over, and you’re gonna go to my room and sit pretty on the bed for me. Can you do that?”

You do not even hesitate to agree with him. With a jerk of your head, he walks you to the hallway right off the kitchen, gesturing with his shoulder. “Last door on the right.”

-

His room is in disarray, but it’s not dirty. He just had a lot of tapes and records scattered about. One side of his room’s walls is decked out in posters from bands like Metallica and Dio. On the other side, only one thing hangs. A beautiful red and black electric guitar, practically collecting dust on its display hook. You stared at it while you listened to Eddie kick his friends out, not giving them an explanation as to why. 

He was trying to fuck one of his customers, per usual, you thought in your excited but tipsy brain. 

He’s trying to win over a younger woman he really likes with his dick, he thinks as he switches off his TV before jogging to his room.

When he walks in, you are silently seated on his unmade bed. 

“You okay?” He mutters, his eyes scanning your figure, hoping to gauge your body language. You had simply been overthinking the fact that he pulled away from your kiss, even though his lips felt so perfect pressed against yours.

You suck in your cheeks, biting the edge of your lip. “You play guitar?”

He can tell you are a bit nervous about the prospect of being with him, but you seemed so sure of yourself in the kitchen. Surely five minutes of being alone did not give you a different take on the situation. No. That cannot be possible.  

He tries to play into the conversation, hoping to bring you some ease.

He looks over his shoulder, looking at his Charvel Surfcaster. It had been years since he picked it up. He assumes he could still play. Muscle memory was a hard thing to forgo, even when you get old. 

“Did. It’s been ages.”

He sits down next to you, taking up a bit of space next to you. You get a whiff of his deodorant, something that is sort of wearing off. He smelled like the beer you just chugged, weed, and a natural musk, which usually turned you off. But for some reason, with him, it made your mouth water. You look to him through your lashes, a small smirk creeping across your face. 

God, you were too perfect to be in his bed. 

Now, he was second-guessing this. 

You pull him out of his thoughts immediately when you find your voice again, “You know what they say about guitarists and their fingers?”

His head snaps completely towards you, eyes wide and looking at you incredulously. 

“You little minx,” His hands find your body once more, this time, on your clothed thigh. “Yeah, I know what they say.”

He drums his digits across your leg as you lull your head back. “Is it true, then?”

“‘Course it is.”

-

His fingers. God, his fingers.

You had observed the ring-clad hands plenty of times, but now they are real and tucking themselves behind your neck. When the coldness of the rings press against your collarbones, the moan that escapes your lips is unprompted. 

“Mm, there she is,” He tuts, his trimmed nails suddenly scratching down your chest to your boobs, “I just have to touch you right and you melt.”

Eddie has been with countless women in his life. The last time he remembers being this thrilled and invigorated to fuck someone, it was the very first girl he ever slept with. A cheerleader from his high school, a girl who was a year younger than him. She was beautiful, he remembers. But she was rigid and inexperienced, just like him. So as soon as the jitters wore off, he realized how unimpressive the entirety of his first time was.

He spent the rest of his young adult life ensuring he never felt a come down like that again.

But in recent years, he had felt more insecure. His body is not being what it used to be. The pressing factor of time really affected how he saw sex. He would take whatever he could get, and honestly, it did not do much for his confidence. 

When you came along, with your beautiful smile and quick wit, he did not expect to be so enamored with you. You were not desperate to impress anyone, and you took no shit from anyone, which was rare coming from a girl your age. 

Plus, you were so fucking hot. 

His fingers expand over your tits, kneading them carefully as if to gauge your reaction. Lucky for him, you were exceptionally reactive to guys playing with your boobs. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He presses, his face tilting a bit towards you, “Me to touch you?”

His breath is hot over your face, and you practically melt looking into his darkened eyes. 

“Yes,” you sigh as his hand trails down your shirt, slowly pulling up the hem. 

He does not take his eyes off of you as he speaks, not even to watch your shirt ride up right above your tits, “Why didn’t you just say something, huh? I scare you that much?”

You truly cannot help but be snarky to him. “I don’t fuck drug dealers.”

The teasing tone is not lost on Eddie. He chuckles darkly, finally looking at your tits so perfectly pushed up in your bra. He cannot help be hiss at the sight, completely taken by the pretty lace that lines your cleavage. 

“Mmm, that’s right. My pretty girl is gonna be a lawyer one day,” He hums. He leans towards your jaw, his lips pressing ever-so-softly there. His right hand scoops under your bra’s cups, getting a handful of your boobs. “You sure you don’t wanna get some of this tension out before you take that bar exam?”

You moan, your voice shaking so bad you cannot even mock up a response. He notes your trembling lip and continues to toy with you, rolling your hardened nipple between his pointer finger and thumb. 

“I think fuckin’ this drug dealer would do you some good.”

Eddie is going to send you into cardiac arrest if he keeps talking like that. It makes you feel a bubbling in your stomach that you have never experienced with any other man in your life. 

You needed to respond, distract yourself from how good he’s already making you feel, “I won’t take the bar for another couple years.”

He pulls away from your jaw, where he’s made the choice to smother you in long, drawn-out kisses. “Oh, so I can have you until then?”

You scoff, eyes flickering between his. You two are practically panting into each other’s mouths, unable to contain the unbridled desire any further. 

You make the first move, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down onto you. Your lips colliding in a passionate, hungry kiss. His hand slips out of your bra and instead cradles your back against the bed. As you slide your tongue into his mouth, you can taste the Marlboros he smokes. The shifting of your legs only hints that he’s painfully hard in his jeans. You can feel him against your thigh.

He pulls away first, making work at your clothing. First, it was the jeans, sliding them down your legs like he was trying to inspect you for a wire. His hands slide up and down your legs once you kick them off your ankles, trying to commit the look of them to memory. He needed this entire experience burned into his depraved brain. 

Your shirt flies off on your own accord. The bra goes right after with his quick fingers aiding in unclasping the back. 

You were only in your blush pink panties, sitting perfectly over your curves. As he sits up a bit on his crackling knees, he spots a small wet spot right where he imagines your pussy meets your asshole. 

His cock has never been harder. 

Eddie’s eyes cannot work over your body quickly enough. Every glance, there’s something new he notices. You were like a marble sculpture at the Louvre or some shit. He had no comparison. 

A dream. 

His lips capture yours in another bruising kiss as his hands return to your sensitive chest, humming into your mouth. He switches between tugging on your nipples and squeezing the fat of your boob itself as he slots one leg between your thighs. 

You are a whimpering mess already, and he hasn’t even touched your pussy.

“Greedy little girl,” He says dryly, his lips drifting further down to your chest. He has never been with someone so reactive to his touch, and he’s borderline obsessed with the way you respond to him. The moment the hot air from him breathing touches your areola, your hips shift upward. “That’s all you are, huh? Greedy.”

“Please, Eddie,” You whimper, your hands finally reaching out to him, working your hand down to wear his pants are still constricting around the outline of his dick. You are getting even more impatient for him. But he’s not easily swayed. He brings one hand down to your wrist, squeezing it. 

“You come into my house demanding an explanation on who I‘ve been fucking,” He laughs, pursing his lips a bit to blow on your peaked nipple. He tightens his grip on your wrist, pinning it beside your hip, “and now you want to dictate how this goes?”

You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but to no avail. “It wasn’t like that.”

“It wasn’t, huh?” He lowers himself, his lips brushing across your tit, “I told you who’s taking the reins here, didn’t I. And I don’t like liars.”

Eddie got his doctorate in dirty talk, knowing it’s something that drove the younger women he slept with insane. But usually they just moaned in return. Not you. No, you were returning the nonsense back to him, which made you even more special. You were fearless. 

“Okay,” You manage a giggle, your pride slipping through the cracks. The alcohol was still pumping through your veins, and lying had not worked once in this entire interaction. “Maybe it was.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” His lips land directly around your nipple, suckling at it and teasing it with his teeth. Your hips jut upward, your core rubbing against his stabilized leg. It’s maddening. 

Eddie released your wrist finally, placing it on your waist to balance himself a bit more. He swung his leg inward so both his legs were between your thighs as he assaulted your titties with licks and bites. 

You moan his name, your free hand now retreating into his long, dark curls. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure to treat you,” He reassures as he comes up for air. You whine, grinding your clothed pussy against his legs. He presses his hand on your lower stomach, successfully preventing you from humping him any further. He uses his other hand to cup the heat between your legs, “Well, her, good.”

His fingers gather your slick with your underwear, the sound of it alone occupies the otherwise silent space around you two. 

“She’s messy, ain’t she?”

He chuckles at that, completely removing himself from on top of you. He needed to feel you bare against his naked chest, so bad. His clothes felt like they were choking him and holding him back from having the real fun he wanted with you. 

Seeing him shirtless sobered you up quite a bit. He has more tattoos than bare skin. His tummy is softer, hinting that he probably likes beer more than he likes water. He was a man with a lot of time on his hands. You're sure it gets tedious, drug dealing to the same crowd of people every day. And being drunk is more exciting than being sober.

You are lying on your back, elbows pushing you up as he strips down. He’s been dying to see you like this, sprawled out, practically drooling over him. He never thought he would see this day come to fruition, but here it is. 

He shoves his pants down his legs, and his tented briefs give you a better idea of what kind of night you were about to have. 

He’s so hard it almost hurts. If you dared to wrap those pretty hands around his length, he would bust immediately. When he pulls at the waistband of his underwear, his cock springs free. His red tip is leaking a bit, which only makes you gawk. He was gorgeous, long and girthy. Probably the prettiest dick you have ever seen. 

“For fucks sake,” You lull your head back, pushing your naked chest up for him to eye, “Eddie, what the fuck?”

“What?” He asks, mockingly. His eyes never left your chest. 

You tilt your head forward again, looking at him with brows raised. “I’m not ready for… that.”

He chuckles darkly as you gesture to his dick. Eddie knew exactly what you were referring to, but he could not help but enjoy the dazed look you gave his lower region. He shakes his head as he shoves his briefs down his legs completely. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you a bit warmed up. But once I feel like you’re ready, I’m gonna fuck you all night.”

You shift your hips to accommodate him again, but instead of getting between your legs, he drops to his knees beside the bed. You immediately know what he’s trying to do, and you start to stray away from him. 

“I don’t like getting head.”

He had never had a woman reject him so bluntly. By the look on your face, he can tell the dislike is simply from not enjoying it in the past. He dips his head down, his lips close to your inner thigh. “Why’s that, sweetheart?”

Drunk honesty at it again. “Every guy who’s ever given me head sucked at it… and it just felt weird. They all complained before I could even cum.”

He shakes his head, leaving a wet kiss on your sensitive skin. “But… you haven’t gotten head from me.”

“Eddie-”

His face pressed into your pussy like it was magnetized to be there. He inhales your scent as his lips drag across your still-covered slit. You sit up further in your propped-up position, jaw unhinged as you watch his perfectly pink lips toy with you. 

“Let me just give it a shot, yeah?”

He waits a moment, lingering teasingly over your panties. You have never felt a desire to watch a man eat you out, but you simply could not look away. He eventually pushes your panties out of the way, looking at your glistening cunt like it was a modern marvel. 

His tongue sticks out as he presses forward into your slit. Like before, it feels odd at first, but Eddie’s eagerness to taste you changes the feeling. He is not just licking and hoping you feel something, no, he’s putting his entire being into devouring you. 

Your essence is already making Eddie feel more intoxicated than he already is. The cries leaving your lips only egg him on further, shaking his head back and forth between your pussy lips.

His fingers join the mix, dividing your folds and exploring around your already pulsating hole.

“Gotta get this wet cunt all ready for me. You think she’ll be ready for me, hm?” He teases as your hips manage to shift closer to his face. His nose is bumping your clit as his fingers and tongue assault your cunt.

It does not feel like it felt when other guys touched you like this. Eddie's motions are meticulous and well thought out. It felt like he knew your anatomy better than even you.

“Need it now." Your voice cracks as he speeds his fingers up, curling them up towards the ceiling. The rush of heat spreads out amongst your body, but the fireworks in your stomach start to erupt as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling around it.

His suction gives up for a moment, but his fingers don't let up, “Oh no, you’re gonna cum for me first. Need you to soak my hand, pretty.”

Your eyes lock onto his as you watch him return to work. Those sparks you felt earlier only burst into complete bliss the moment his slurping of your cunt intensifies.

Watching you fall apart is the most beautiful thing Eddie's ever seen in all his years. Your body glistening with a light sheen of sweat as your widened eyes tighten shut. Your head falls back against the bed as your mouth falls agape, his name slipping off your tongue over and over again.

You gush all around his fingers, the excess falling into his mouth like a sweet nectar he never wants to swallow. He just wants to have it take over his taste buds forever.

In your blissed out state, Eddie's fingers leave your raw hole and reach up to your lips. He leans over you, rubbing your cum all over your mouth like some sort of lip gloss.

He smiles at you as you wrap your mouth around his fingers, eyeing him as you suck his digits clean, “Knew she just needed the magic touch.”

You roll your eyes at that, disassociating from the fact that you are licking your own cum off his fingers. You had never done something so dirty, but you were under some sort of spell with Eddie. He made you feel like you could be your true, vulgar, unhinged self. The confidence you never could bring to the bed with any other man you knew.

He sits up from his spot, and you see his red tip leaking all over his own sheets. He sees you eyeing him up, which only makes him flinch. You sit up, reach out, and slowly take him into your hand.

He gasps at the slightest bit of friction against his cock. Your hand looked so small wrapped around him, and he swore to whatever God was there that if you continued those ministrations, he would cum in seconds. You just looked so innocent in that moment. It was short-circuiting his brain.

He finally locks in on the softness of your skin on your stomach, trying to ground himself a bit. “Do I need to use a uh.. condom?”

You pump him painfully slow. It's about to drive him insane, so he pushes your hand away before you can even answer the question. His ringed fingers lock around his length as you think about the logistics. You were too far gone to really care about the specifics, but your horny brain wanted to feel his long, uncut cock deep inside you. Every ridge.

“I just need to feel you in me.”

He pushes your legs back a bit as he settles between your thighs. “Raw it is then, sweetheart.”

He lines himself up with your leaking hole and plunges straight in. A moan rips from his throat as you practically scream at the way he opens you up. His grunts are guttural and severely hot.

The pressure as he presses into you is maddening. He fucks you slowly at first, his eyes laser-focused on your chest as your tits bounce when he fills you to the hilt.

You smile at his hands locked around your waist, like he is trying to anchor himself somewhere. You inhale and exhale unhurriedly, managing the intensity you feel as he splits you open.

"You can speed up a bit," You mumble, your hands pressing into his heavily tattooed shoulders. He looks between your bodies, and a groan bubbles up from his throat.

His pace picks up, and his eyes return to the way your tits jiggle under his force. He is hitting you so deeply that you cannot focus on anything else. He just feels so good.

He leans down while plowing into you, practically folding you in half. Your knees are practically at your shoulders, it feels like. He captures your right nipple in his mouth, sucking you as his hips slap against your ass. The overstimulation makes you clench around his cock, which only makes him sigh in pleasure.

"Feels good," You mewl as your hands search for the nape of his neck, under the mess of curls that surround him. He lets go of your tit with a pop and smiles wickedly at you.

"God, she’s so fuckin’ wet, sweetheart," He says with his teeth clenched. God, you felt so good, he thinks to himself. His hips snap faster, "Can you hear how sloppy your pussy is for me?”

You throw your head back at his obscene words. You never knew how much words could affect you until they spilled out from between Eddie's lips.

"You feel so good, oh my god!”

His head dips down, and he bites your jaw as his hips do not falter from their rapid tempo.

“Yeah? You’re just squeezing me so good,” He grumbles in your ear. The mixture of the sweetness of your perfume and the bitterness of your sweat infiltrates his nostrils, and he could bust at the mere fact that you still smell incredible. He slows down, even when he does not really want to, because he feels like his heart may burst from his chest. “Wanna try another position?”

He pulls out swiftly, throwing you onto your stomach like he was simply flipping a pillow to the colder side in the middle of the night. He helps you into doggy, pushing your back down so you are arching your back dramatically.

You, on display before him, is a sight that he wants to burn into the back of his eyelids.

His hand gropes your ass before slapping it roughly. You clench at nothing, which is very obvious from the way you shift your hips.

"You just do whatever I ask, huh?" He chuckles to himself, taking his dick in his hand and slotting it between your folds. You lay your arms out in front of you, like you are surrendering everything to this man.

"You said you were taking the reins," You mumble into his sheets, "Please."

He sinks into you, then pulls all the way out. "Mm, keep begging."

"Please, I want it."

Again. Pushes in, pulls out. This time, he slaps your ass again.

"Say what you want, sweetheart." He holds your hips taut, his fingers expanding over the very tops of your thighs. "Come on, say it.”

“Fuck me, please.”

You hear him chuckle at your plea, his hands tightening around your flesh. “Atta girl.”

He slams into you, slipping right into your hole without an ounce of friction. You do not even have time to think, only moan and feel everything he is offering you. 

Every moment that passes, he swears he’s going to lose it and fill you to the brim. His cockhead is so sensitive as it is wedged so perfectly inside you. You felt nothing like he imagined, in the best way possible. His body falls over you slightly as his knees start to bear a bit too much of his weight. It gives him the perfect position to use his fingers again and play with your sensitive bud. 

When his hand creeps down over your mound, you feel goosebumps spread throughout your practically on-fire body. Every nerve was ablaze in pure pleasure, so when his fingers graze your clit, it’s game over. 

“Oh fuck, Eddie, yes!”

Hearing his name pour from your mouth, your voice trembling and raw, is enough to make him lose all sense. His only focus now is making you cum as quickly as possible, just so he can. “That’s right, scream my fuckin’ name. Tell everyone your drug dealer is bullying this pussy.”

“I’m close,” You cry, your muscles starting to tense and give out. You feel like your legs may slide out from under you. Your stomach practically drops to the mattress as your orgasm takes over. 

“Yeah, cum for me. Good girl.”

His praises make you clench even harder, which pushes him over the edge. One final thrust forward and locking both hands onto your hips again is enough to have him empty himself deep with a choked-out moan. Even with the final thrust, he’s rocking his hips slightly to try to prolong the experience. The grip he has on you will leave marks, you know that for sure. 

You two stay like that for what feels like 20 minutes, just basking in the afterglow of the experience. He takes his time backing out of you and falling to your side. Your entire body lies flat on his bed as your chest continues to heave. 

You try to sit up, but Eddie does not allow it. His touch returns to your body, but this time, it’s your waist. He pulls you into his bare chest, kissing your shoulder blade as you become flush with him. It’s something so domestic and soft that you flinch. 

You two lie there, not saying anything for a while. 

When he finally does move, you immediately miss his hands. You peek your eye open to see him getting up and grabbing his pants from the floor. He pulls them up to right below his tummy and shoots you a grin.

“Let me get us some water.”

-

You decide the moment he leaves the room that you need to pee and get the hell out. There was no way he was going to allow you to stay anyway. This was not some hookup after a nice date; this was a hookup with your fucking dealer. 

You knew better, and yet you still did it. 

And it was so good that you wished you could forget it already. Coming back here to pick up was only going to become a huge issue because your body would long for this to happen all over again. 

Now you knew why the girls had talked about him. Even if they were just sucking his dick, it was quite the sight, and he definitely knew how to use it and his words. 

You made a mistake. A drunken mistake.

You slip out of his room and to his bathroom. It was surprisingly well-maintained. No piss stains in the grout. 

You sit down on the toilet and plot how you thought this was all going to go. You just had to be honest with him. 

“Yeah, Eddie, great dick and all, but I never meant for this to happen.”

Which was a lie, because you fully wanted this to happen. You had from the moment you saw his tattoo on his hipbone when he was grabbing something for you one day in his cabinet. 

He was hot, and you could not deny that anymore. 

What you really needed was a cold shower to try to muddle through these thoughts, but you could not just randomly start the shower and start using the man’s body wash. So you settled for splashing cold water on your face until you thought of something. 

The moment you do the second splash, the door creaks open, and Eddie walks in, pushing his pants down his hips again. You freeze, the water clouding your vision through your soaked lashes. 

He goes to the toilet, eyeing you curiously. “You good?”

He starts to pee, right beside you. 

It’s his house. Plus… his cum was still dripping out of you. 

That was his rationale behind taking a leak beside the hot girl he just plowed into.  

You clear your throat, reaching for the tan hand towel that was haphazardly hung beside the sink. “I should probably get home.”

Eddie finishes his business before shaking his head. “Nah, you’re staying tonight.”

He had no intention of letting you leave his bed tonight. He was a bit offended that you left it before he could bring you back your ice water. 

Girl’s gotta pee. 

Your stomach flips. “What?”

You are not scared, or even intimidated. You are just confused. And a bit too tired to resist too much.

But to Eddie, he could not be clearer.

“Get back to bed. I left you a shirt to wear.”

-

You do not expect to sleep so well. His blankets are softer than any blanket you have ever owned. His pillows have a weirdly nostalgic smell, like cotton and cigarette smoke. And he is wrapped around you, his hands rested on your waist, right under the Metallica shirt he gave you to wear to bed. For your own dignity, you put your underwear back on, even when Eddie sighed, watching you pull them up your legs. 

Eddie slept like the dead. He usually slept well enough, but it was like your presence gave him all the comfort he ever needed. You lie on your back when you sleep, and Eddie curls in next to you, slotting his face right in the crook of your neck. So all night he got to inhale your sweet natural scent. 

He woke up before you. He could never sleep more than 5 hours, so when the sun peeked through his shredded curtains, his eyes lazily opened to stare at your side profile. 

You were probably even more beautiful in this light than any other way he had ever seen you. He had to peel himself away from you, his fingertips buzzing as they swiped across the hem of your panties as he stood up. 

He needed a cigarette. 

-

You do not wake up until an hour or so later. Eddie’s side of the bed lies bare as you stretch your arms out and orient yourself. 

You remember everything. 

His touch is burned into your flesh, like a gaping wound you could not sew back together. 

You get up, trying to find your pants. When you get half dressed, you open the door that leads to the hallway. You hear the TV on and smell the scent of freshly brewed coffee. As you peer into the kitchen, you see him standing there shirtless, his pajama pants hanging low over his hips. 

For fuck’s sake. 

“Mornin’,” you mutter, dropping your shoes by the front door. By the looks of it, you would be staying for a bit. Eddie turns to you, his entire body getting flushed at your dazed and sleepy expression. 

“Good mornin’, sweetheart.” He saunters over to you, his hand reaching out for your hip. You do not move an inch, letting his warmth spread across you like a second skin. He looks down at you, a smirk spreading across his chapped lips. He was so devastatingly handsome, especially in this role as a doting one-night stand. 

He cocks his head to one side, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips without even a second thought. You cannot help but giggle as he swipes your bottom lip with his tongue. 

“I made you a bagel,” He says, his eyes fluttering open to gauge your reaction. You look at him curiously, trying to rack your brain as to when you told him you liked bagels. They were the only breakfast item you could truly stand, and you were staunch about your hatred for breakfast. Had you mentioned that to him?

“Oh,” You sigh, your hands using his forearms for balance, “You did?”

“I don’t have cream cheese, but I have butter,” He explains, pulling you back with him to the same kitchen counter he was standing over when you came in. 

The moment you step foot near the fridge, you get a flashback to the last time you were held up in here. His hands feel so different than they did last night as they grace your skin. While still charged, they were more delicate and kind to you. 

Almost like he read your mind, he hands you the bagel wrapped in a paper towel. “You told me how it’s the only thing you can stomach in the morning. I picked some up a couple of days ago cause I started to crave one. But I like mine with peanut butter.”

You bark out a laugh at his statement, taking the bagel over to where a carton of butter is sitting out next to the stove. “Peanut butter?”

“I don’t like the judgment,” He states, walking up behind you and gently swatting your ass. It makes your heart leap out of your chest as you spread the butter out on your lightly toasted bagel. 

“I was just questioning your choices.”

He leans down to your ear and whispers, “And judging me.”

“No, just questioning,” You hum, lifting the bagel up to your mouth and taking a bite. Surprisingly, not terrible with just butter. 

He retreats to his coffee maker, pouring himself a mug full of the dark liquid. No cream. No sugar. 

Your stomach starts to feel like a rock with the carb-heavy bread you are biting into. Maybe it was the anxiety you felt about being so domestic with Eddie. Everything just seemed so simple and laid out, but you felt his tension in the very core of your being. A tension you could not ignore. 

You crunch another piece of your bagel off, as Eddie faces you again from across the kitchen. 

“Now what?”

He furrows his brows under his curly mop of bangs, “What do you mean?”

Your stomach sinks, and so does his. You both are lost navigating this situation. You both want the same thing, to keep doing whatever this is, but you did not understand how that would work. Eddie was not confident enough to say how he thought about you every day. And you were too fearful to speak the truth about your bubbling emotions about him. 

“Do we…”

He stops you with his hand, his mug pressed against his lips as he slurps up a sip of the steaming liquid. He swallows slowly, shaking his head at your fallen and unfinished question. 

“How about we smoke and talk about?”

You take another bite of your bagel. Smoking sounds great. Perfect way to settle your nerves. 

“Are you sure you have enough for me?”

“I reupped yesterday, beautiful,” He grumbles, putting his mug down and returning his hands to your waist, “Don’t be so needling.”

A smile creeps across your face as you reach up and pinch his cheek. “You aren’t so big and scary, are you?”

“Only when I need to be, sweetheart. Only when I need to be.”