wtv

you kneel between kurt kunkle’s spread thighs, the mattress dipping slightly under your weight. his cock is flushed a dark, angry red, the veins standing out starkly against the pale skin of his shaft. he’s trembling, a fine sheen of sweat breaking out across his hairless chest.

you lean forward, flattening your tongue against the sensitive underside of his dick, and drag it slowly from base to tip. the taste of his salty pre cum coats your tongue, thick and eager. he lets out a choked sound, hips jerking up off the bed involuntarily, seeking the wet heat of your mouth.

you wrap your lips around the swollen head, sucking hard, and his entire body bows upward. “m-mommy..” he whimpers, the word falling from his lips like a prayer. it’s pathetic how easy it is to break him.

being a virgin, being as sensitive as kurt is means every touch feels like an electric shock, his nerves firing before his brain can catch up. you hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper until the tip nudges the back of your throat.

the vibration of your moan travels down his length, and you feel his balls draw up tight against his body. he’s already on the edge, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

just as his thighs start to shake uncontrollably and his hands fist into the sheets, you pull off completely. the cool air hits his wet cock, and kurt cries out, a high pitched, broken noise. “n-no, pleeeease, mommy, i-i was so close” he babbles, his head thrashing against the pillows.

you grin, wrapping a hand around the base to squeeze tight, cutting off the orgasm that threatens to spill over. he’s a mess, his chest heaving, his eyes glassy and unfocused as he stares down at you. the denial you’ve given him makes his dick twitch in your grip, leaking another steady stream of clear fluid.

“you have to be a good boy and wait kurtie” you murmur, teasing the slit of his cock with just the tip of your tongue. he whines again, a long, drawnout sound that vibrates in his chest.

“i want to be good i- i swear.. i- i’ll be s-so good for you mommy, i promise, i j-just need to cum s’ bad, please..” he begs, his voice cracking. you watch his stomach muscles clench and ripple as he fights the urge to thrust into your hand.

it’s intoxicating, the way he surrenders all control to you. you lower your head again, taking just the head into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the ridge, pushing him right back to that razor-sharp edge of pleasure without letting him fall over.

the air inside the cruiser is thick and smells like stale tobacco, hot vinyl, and the metallic tang of adrenaline. your back is pressed against the hard plastic seat, the mesh partition digging into your shoulder blades, but you barely feel the discomfort.

your wrists, locked behind your back, the cold steel handcuffs biting into your skin, anchoring you to this moment.

gator tillman looms over you, his uniform shirt unbuttoned and hanging open, exposing the heaving chest beneath. his brown eyes are dark, blown wide with a mix of lingering anger and pure, unfiltered lust. his slickedback hair is usually perfect, but right now strands are falling over his forehead, damp with sweat.

“thought yer could run tha’ pretty little mouth of yours, didn't ya?” he growls, his voice a low, rumbling gravel that vibrates in your chest.

the southern drawl is thick, coating every word like molasses, but there’s nothing sweet about it. it's sharp and dangerous. “thought ya could talk back ta me like tha’ and get away with it?”

you don’t answer, just tilt your chin up, defiance warring with the desperate ache between your legs. he sees the challenge in your eyes and his jaw ticks. he grips your chin, fingers digging hard into your cheeks, forcing your head back against the seat.

“i asked yer a question” he snaps, spitting the words out. “answer me”

“or what?” you breathe, your voice raspy. “you’ll arrest me again?”

he laughs, a harsh, humorless sound. “and tha’. but i’m gon’ fuck ya. fuck all tha’ nasty bratty-ness ya have."

he doesn’t even wait for your response. he hikes your skirt up around your waist with rough, impatient hands, tearing the fabric slightly in his haste. he grabs your panties and yanks them down your legs, leaving them tangled around one ankle. the cool air hits your wet skin, but it’s replaced instantly by the heat of his hand as he grabs your thigh and pushes your legs open.

“look at her” he mutters, staring down at your pussy. “soakin’ wet for me already. yer love this, don't ya? love being treated like the brat ya are, huh?"

he spits in his hand, strokes his thick, hard cock a few times, and then lines himself up. there’s no gentle entry, no slow build ip. he slams into you in one brutal thrust, burying himself balls deep.

you cry out, your back arching off the seat, the cuffs twisting painfully against your wrists. he stretches you open, the burn mixing with the intense pleasure, overwhelming your senses.

“tha’s it” he groans, his head dropping forward. “take tha’ fuckin’ dick like a the good slut ya are”

he sets a punishing rhythm immediately, fucking you with hard, deep strokes that rock the entire car. the suspension squeaks in protest with every thrust. his hips snap forward, his pelvis grinding against your clit. you can feel every inch of him, the thick veins dragging against your inner walls.

“still got that smart mouth?” he grunts, picking up the pace. “ain’t so tough now, are ya?”

you try to form words, but the force of his fucking steals the air from your lungs. you can only moan, your head lolling to the side. he doesn't like that at all.

he grabs your face, turning it back to him, and then wraps his hand around your throat. his fingers are long and strong, pressing into the sides of your neck. he doesn't cut off your air completely, just enough to make you lightheaded, to make your heart hammer against your ribs.

“look at me when i’m fucking yer, whore” he demands. his eyes bore into yours, wild and possessive. “ya fucking look at me”

you gasp, your vision swimming slightly as the restriction heightens every sensation. the pressure in your core builds rapidly, a tight coil ready to snap. his other hand moves between your legs, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing rough, tight circles.

“ya gon’ come for me?” he asks, his voice strained. “this pretty pussy gon’ come all over my dick?”

“yes” you choke out, the word barely a whisper.

“yes, what?” he squeezes your throat a little tighter.

“yes deputy..” you moan, the submission slipping out instinctively.

“good fucking girl.”

he pulls his hand away from your throat and brings his fingers to your mouth. they're slick with your own arousal. he pushes two fingers past your lips, pressing down on your tongue. you gag slightly, your eyes watering, but you suck on them greedily, tasting yourself.

“tha’s better” he murmurs, watching your lips stretch around his fingers. “keep that mouth busy. maybe yer’ll learn how ta use it right”

he fucks you like that for a while, fingers in your mouth, cock pounding into you, the smell of sex filling the small space. the car is rocking violently, but neither of you cares. the pleasure is mounting, a tidal wave rising inside you.

suddenly, he pulls out of you, leaving you empty and gasping. before you can protest, he grabs your hips and flips you over. it’s awkward with your hands cuffed behind your back, but he manhandles you easily, arranging you exactly how he wants you. you end up on your knees, face pressed against the scratchy seat, ass high in the air.

“see? this is wha’ happens to bad girls” he says, running a hand over your ass cheek. “they get fuckin’ punished”

his hand comes down hard, a sharp crack that echoes in the confined space. you yelp, the sting radiating through your skin. he does it again, and again, spanking you until your ass is burning hot and red. the pain mixes with the throbbing need in your pussy, driving you crazy.

“p-please gator..” you whimper into the seat.

“please what?” he spanks you again, harder this time.

“please fuck me..” you beg. “i-i need it”

he chuckles darkly. “i know you do”

gator lines himself up and slams back into you, going deeper than before in this position. you scream into the upholstery as he hits that spot inside you that makes you see stars. he grabs the chain of the handcuffs, using them as leverage to pull you back onto his cock, fucking you with ruthless efficiency.

“take it” he grunts, his skin slapping against yours loudly. “fuckin’ take it, slut.”

the car is shaking, the metal frame groaning under the assault. he's relentless, driving into you over and over, the friction building until you can't hold back anymore. your orgasm tears through you, violent and overwhelming. your walls clench around him, rippling and spasming.

“f-fuck.. g-gator.. please! h-hmph.. FUCK!” you cry out, shamelessly.

“fuuuuck yeah” he growls, feeling you pulse around him. “juuuuus’ like that, baby. c’mon, milk my dick”

he doesn't stop, drawing out your climax until your legs are shaking and you're collapsed bonelessly against the seat.

only then does he pull out again.

“turn over, woman” he commands, breathless. “wan’ see ya face when i fill ya up”

you struggle to turn over, your muscles weak and uncooperative. he helps you, flipping you onto your back once more. then he grabs your legs, pushing them back until your knees are almost touching your shoulders. he hooks your ankles over his shoulders, folding you in half.

this is it. that position that lets him go deepest. your hips are elevated, leaving you completely open and vulnerable to him.

he leans forward, his weight resting on your legs, pinning you down. he looks down at you, his hair a mess, his chest heaving, his eyes burning with intensity.

“yer fuckin’ mine” he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. “this fuckin’ pussy, she belongs ta me. ya understand?”

“yes..” you whisper back, staring up at him. “i-i’m yours”

he pushes into you again, the angle allowing him to hit deeper than ever before. it's almost too much, a stretch that borders on pain, but it's exactly what you need. he starts moving again, slower this time but grinding deep, making sure you feel every thrust.

“i'm gon’ come in ya” he mutters, his rhythm starting to falter. “gon’ fill ya up so full yer'll be drippin’ me for days”

he reaches down, his hand finding your throat again, squeezing possessively. the combination of the deep penetration and the chokehold sends you spiraling toward another peak.

you look up at him, seeing the sweat dripping down his temple, the way his teeth are gritted. he's beautiful like this: raw, primal, entirely focused on you.

“come with me, baby” he groans. “let me feel it”

he slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt, and explodes. you feel the hot spurts of cum painting your insides, triggering your own release.

your body locks up, your back bowing, a silent scream tearing from your throat as your pussy clenches around him, milking him for everything he has.

he collapses on top of you, both of you gasping for air, the car silent except for your ragged breathing. you can feel his heart pounding against your chest, echoing your own.

he presses his face into your neck, inhaling your scent, and for a moment, neither of you moves. the anger is gone, replaced by a heavy, sated exhaustion. he kisses your neck, a soft, lingering touch that contrasts sharply with the roughness of just moments ago.

“yer gon’ behave now?’ he mumbles against your skin, the drawl lazy and content.

you smile, closing your eyes. “maybe..”