Blue Collar Man’s Sub

the type of man who, despite having just worked twelve-thirteen hours straight, making sure those little nails of yours stay manicured, will still come home and fuck you to sleep.

sure, the plant has his back sore and aching, and sleep rings under his eyes in dark circles, but he could just never resist how sweet you were about it.

greeting him at the front door in your pink, prissy pajamas. the ones he took you to the mall to buy. your nails painted a pretty color and your hair all done up. haven’t worked a day in your life, thanks to him, and you scream it too.

maybe you’d cooked him a meal or maybe he’d brought somethin’ good home, but after eating and showering, he was all soft and complacent in bed. well, more than he already is.

he’s driftin’ off the second he feels your body sink the mattress, pulling you into him like second nature. the only thing that gets him out of his stupor is your soft, almost shy whisper: “baby, i need you.”

no matter how tired or how grueling of a day he’s had, he’ll give you what you ask for. prone-bone, doggy, cuddle-fuck, whatever you prefer. he’ll pull his ragged body up, take care of your’s just right, and then enjoy the sleep-inducing orgasm that follows suit.

it’s always worth it, in his opinion, when he gets to watch your bliss-filled eyes roll back again and again.

sweet, sweet blue collar man ;)

She takes care of him: cleans the house, packs his lunch, organizes the bills and makes dinner.

He takes care of her: fucks her into submission the way only a blue collar man can. Fucks her to sleep.

And I had you pegged for a faggot all along. Yeah you can swing a hammer with the best of them, but I know after work you’re swinging on dick, too. I just know—if fags have gaydar, well, Alphas don’t need it. We just know.

I’m not fuckin stupid, I see you sniffing extra deep near my pits and even my ass when I’m up on the ladder.

What I don’t see is you making yourself useful. Get your fag nose in there.

Now, taste a real working man. No, bitch boy. That wasn’t an invite to my crotch. Are you that stupid? Lick my pit.

How does it feel to want something so bad? To have it dangled in front of your face, like a lure… wanting to devour it but being made to take it slow.

Don’t tell no one unless you want the business end of my fist.

If you can't handle this simple fucking adjustment by the end of the day, I guess I'll just have to start shoving wads of duct tape into that cocksucker you call a mouth.

Remember: A disrespectful mouth get a mouth full of tape. Do you understand, faggot?"

". . y-yes s-sir! "