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Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is LIVE right now
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Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Getting Dex to sit on your lap, his full weight straddling your thighs as you two make out. One of your hands squeezing his thigh while the other grabs his ass, coaxing small whimpers into your swollen, wet lips. Barely letting go of each other's mouths to breath. His pupils swallowing the hazel of his eyes indicated how much he was affected by you.
I just remembered the latest photos of Wilson Bethel as Dex for DDBA season 3, and now all I can think about is digging fingers into that manâs scalp and pulling his hair. Raise your hand if you think Dex is into hair pulling đŽâđ¨â
kinda imagining stalker!dex putting in cameras around your house when youâre not there so he can watch you all the time. him jerking off as he watches you masturbate in bed late at night or you showering. he just canât help himself. youâre so cute and perfect and innocent and totally naive and he wants to tear you open with his maw and ruin you for anyone else. him sneaking in in the middle of the night so he can jerk off all over you and make you a mess. his pretty mess and you donât even know it!!!
You work for Mr. Charles assisting Dexâs assigned tasks. Things get tricky when he realizes he feels things for his second in command handler after months of working together, and your apartment is too tempting not to break into
Warnings: stalking like yâall know who this fic is about! Heâs kind of a creep wow, Raw sex, A little dark!Dex, he breaks in and jerks off in your room, teeny Voyeurism kink, handjob and choking and dirty talk and sweetness, he fucks you in his lap, this should be the poster child for Dex switch agenda omg
Dex couldnât help it. His hands had worked faster than his mind, and it started off as such an ordinary thought. This is where you sleep, I wonder what it feels like to have your heat so close. Mundane and domestic and the sick fantasy of all that would never be true just became too much for him.
And maybe thatâs what ruined him, what made his manhood swell and leak in his briefs because it felt so unreachable until he came here. Until he knew what type of soap you used and where you keep your cutlery and how many pajama sets you have.
Youâre at work, likely going through paperwork that makes you look like youâd do something illegal for a full eight hours of sleep. Itâs also most likely affiliated with him, recent assignments closed and there are plenty of deposits to be made.
His included.
Youâre good at your job. It was one of the many first things he noticed about you, and it made his ears perk up whenever you spoke and the hair on the back of his neck stand to attention.
Like whatever words rolled off your tongue was something heâd want to know, something he needed to know because missing it felt detrimental.
Whatever world you were brought into, clearly far too young, has shaped you into a person who completely understood objective. The cold hard truth of it in the unconventional, and more importantly how necessary it is.
And yet somehow, after heâd come back from something terrible and wretched in nature yet as easy as breathing, disgustingly normal for him with blood still splattered on his suit - youâd have a soft smile. Gentle, like reality held no meaning and the diner is going to close in an hour and you still have to be up for three hours so come with me Dex!
Youâd drag him by his jacket like heâs a puppy who canât be let off the leash too long or heâll do something you donât have enough money to pay for.
And heâd follow like he didnât just end someoneâs life hours before, and yet somehow he still deserved to have your hand on him and your late night grin beaming towards him in the midnight streets of New York.
Your energy is like a vortex of something that wants to peel away at him, pick at his brain and settle yourself between matter. He doesnât get it. In a lot of ways it frustrates him, makes his skin itch a little because people arenât just like that.
They donât ask you how youâre feeling when youâve still got fresh blood on your hands, or steal sips of your coffee and pretend they donât see you subtly lick the edge of the cup where their mouth just was.
And yet, he felt the buzz in his brain start.
It started as a hum in the back of his skull, and yeah of course it was nice to go out for for breakfast at three A.M with a beautiful woman and chat business that always turned into talking about what movie youâd watched recently and how it changed your life.
And then heâd start talking about a mixtape that meant everything to him when he was nine and had no one but the boys in the orphanage who thought he was a fucking freak to talk about it with.
All because you asked what his favorite song is since heâs always wearing those ancient headphones, and maybe it was the faux compartmentalized safety box that heâd put you in that made it so easy.
Second arm to his boss, to a job he needs because structure had become wonky and he couldnât have that. Not now, not after everything.
The hum quickly became a horrible, gluttonous, deafening roar.
He had, and still has no rational explanation. He knows the basics, heâs a man, and youâre you and youâre in close proximities and it is literally your job to make sure he is alive and well and every cog in the machine is well oiled.
So at his big age he should be able to differentiate between your professional and personal relationship. You meant something to Charles that wasnât quite like a daughter, but something close and too parental in nature for Dex to understand anyways. He didnât know what that even meant.
But Dex has never had a crush.
The word feels so fucking juvenile in his head, something from a life heâs never had and never will have. He has never felt love. Real, true, honest to god love.
He only knows the intensity of something under his skin, something that festers and writhes and aches inside of him. It crawls through veins and tendons and muscle and the framework in his spine and it beckons him.
So it did not take long for you to fester within him. To spread to every thought that wasnât about his next hit or organizing his weaponry. Even doing the dishes, he wondered what you were doing in that exact moment.
Brushing your hair, your teeth? Were you still asleep and wrapped in your covers that he envied because they get to be bunched between your arms and legs and against your stomach?
You even seeped into the mundane everyday parts of life like something divine and real. When he did his laundry he thought of what you wore to bed and what soap you used and how you smell.
When he made his bed he thought about what your weight would feel like against his mattress, how your frame would ruffle the duvet and heâd be okay with it. And how the springs might creak when he crawls on top of you and kisses your sternum and makes a mess out of the softness between your legs.
Fuck.
He could lie and say he tried to fight it, but heâs more than grown now. He can take accountability. Heâs just exercising a little free will, and heâs not hurting anyone, really.
No, this is the most devotional, wholehearted and earnest thing that heâs done in a very long time.
Your room is filled with your scent and heâs bathed in the glow of it like a wash of fresh air. His hands started shaking as soon as he walked in and felt surrounded by you, his belly hot and he really didnât know what to do with himself with such an opportune moment.
His head went fuzzy, and his thoughts didnât make sense anymore.
He scoped everything like forgetting would mean death. Your shaggy rug at the foot of your bed, your desk and the half open books and messy papers scattered everywhere. Your laptop still open and your chair rolled away like you got up and never sat back down.
Your bed is softer than his, and fluffy blankets surround your bedposts and there is no creaking of the springs when he sits himself down. You donât make it in the morning like he does because the covers are still thrown from your spot and crumpled, pillow still indented with the shape of your head.
His fingertips graze the pink fabric and it lights something dangerous and hot inside of him very very quickly.
First itâs his palm on the sheets cause he wants to know if he can feel even the ghost of your heat when you lied here, and then his knees are on the mattress and god you really do smell so sweet, and then his face is in your pillow and heâs inhaling like a mad man.
He lets out a guttural groan, the blood rushing to his head as fast as it is to his dick and in the haze of it all he feels his hips buck unconsciously. Like his subconscious felt your insides too just then.
He doesnât think about it. He canât, or heâll dwell and convince himself that heâs better than this. And he doesnât want to be.
He just flips himself around, thick fingers fumbling with his belt buckle with all the trembling, and when heâs unbuckled he doesnât even pull his pants down all the way to his knees before reaching for his weeping cock from the fold in his briefs.
He lets out a sigh of relief when the cool air from your overhead fan hits it, propping himself up on one elbow and letting his thick thighs part a little further. His feet are touching the ground, heavy boots scrunching your rug underneath their rubber soles.
Heâs so hard it hurts, the tip is pink and leaking dribbles of iridescent precum down the thick of his veiny shaft.
His hand is as hot as his manhood when he wraps his thick fingers around himself and tugs with a dirty smirk and a half chuckle of disbelief that heâs so pent up. He hasnât cum in months, and now this is happening.
âFuck.â
He breathes out, hamstrings tightening along with his abdomen when the callouses tucked inside his fingers graze his sensitive mushroom head.
Itâs dirty, and he feels like a teenager all over again because heâs staring at all of your stuff and is envious of everything thatâs ever gotten to see you in your most human version.
Heâs blushing at the thought of laying on the same bed you do.
He writhes his hips into his hand, pants like a dog in heat. Heâs started getting a bit too messy, precum soaking into his underwear at this base. Heâs still in a lustful haze when heâs looking off to his right and sees a haphazard piece of clothing thatâs barely hanging off of your bed.
He twists his torso and grabs it like it owes him money. Itâs inside out but he sees flashes of the white lettering on the front of the green fabric and he moans out loud. Itâs one of your favorite tee shirts, you wear it to work at least three times a week and youâve worn it on your after hours restaurant runs too.
He shoves it to his face, and if heâd done it any harder heâd break his nose but he doesnât care. The smell of you after a shower and a night of sleep fills his senses, clouds him like a rainstorm and heâs so lost, so deep in it now so quickly.
He whimpers into the fabric, rocks his hips and the sound of his own arousal leaking out of him and being used as lube while he touches himself fills the room. Heâs dragging his hand from his tip all the way down, and his head is just images of what you might feel like pulsing around him.
What it would be like if you were here right now on top of him, spread open on his thick lap and taking him to the hilt. Insides all battered and soft and sensitive. Crying his name over and over again. Getting him wet and messy and sticky.
âFuuuuuck, baby fuck.â
Itâs incoherent with your shirt pressed to his nose and mouth, at least thatâs what Dex would be thinking if he had any thoughts other than your cunt and the shape of your mouth and the feeling of your cervix.
Youâre honestly astonished he hasnât heard you yet. Heâs one of the best you guys have, so perceptive itâs almost superhuman and his reflexes are some of the best youâve ever seen.
You, however, are quieter. Clearly. And itâs endearing, to see him through the crack in the door and understand almost immediately that he is the human embodiment of starvation and desperation.
It makes you gasp, because heâs so big and dressed in all black in your frilly room and the juxtaposition makes your insides throb. Of course itâs also the sounds heâs making, theyâre whiny and loud your his whole hand is wrapped across his mouth with your shirt directly underneath.
Itâs seeing a version of him that you never even fathomed would come to life. You didnât even know it was this serious for him despite the fact that you knew his gaze lingered on you longer than normal during interactions.
Your heart feels like itâs going to leap out of your chest and onto the floor with a loud, squelchy thump.
Youâre not disturbed, and thatâs the most concerning part. But youâve read up on his file over a hundred times now, of course. You know heâs notâŚconventional in his proclivities. You know heâs suffered, that itâs altered him permanently.
And youâve spent time with him in the outside world, away from the murder and secrecy of your work life. You know what a real smile looks like when it spreads across his broad mouth, what a genuine satisfied hum sounds like when he takes a sip of his drink and itâs the right balance of milk and sugar.
And maybe youâve always had a soft spot for the fucked up ones. For the ones that need to latch onto someone so badly theyâd hang on until their fingers bleed. Because all you know how to do is help.
However, you canât think too much about it right now when youâre distracted by how pretty his dick looks in his big hand and how neatly shaven he is or how his greying hair is getting long and you want to run your hands through it and tuck it behind his ears.
You just know you have to open your bedroom door all the way, so your hands find the cold knob and youâre pushing it open with a tepid step.
Dex stills, everything locking into place all at once. A series of thoughts run through his head very quickly, almost too fast for him to decide on one.
Ultimately, you didnât break the door down. Or barge in with a gun aimed at his forehead although heâd kind of like that. In fact, youâre looking at him in a way that makes his balls tighten and his manhood twitch in his hold unconsciously. His body is just responding.
Itâs not so much shock, or surprise or disgust. Itâs like youâre curious, utterly transfixed by whatâs taking place despite the fact that heâs staring dead at you and is slowly lowering your shirt to his lap over his erection and his cheeks and neck couldnât be more beet red under any other circumstances.
âI have cameras, you know.â
Your voice hits him like a punch to the gut, he has to stop himself from doubling over a little because the taboo nature of the scenario is really fucking doing it for him and where someone normal would feel humiliation, Dex feels thrilled.
Heâs been caught, and more so, heâs been surveilled while he thought he was being incognito and expertly smart about breaking and entering.
He looks like something scary and hungry right now, you can see his cock bobbing under your shirt where itâs covering him. Heâs still panting, hair a little slick with sweat and you wanna lick the bead that trickles over his forehead and down the sharp bridge of his nose.
He looks like a person. Not a case file, not a weapon, not Bullseye. Just a man. And it makes you squeeze your thighs together when his eyes rake over you like heâs not ashamed of what heâs doing right now.
âYou saw me come in?â
He asks, and his voice is rough like it has the permission to be when heâs pleasuring himself in your room. Completely wired and completely fucked. He licks his lips without thinking.
And now youâre advancing towards him, and you gently kick the door shut with the heel of your boot and he thinks he might spontaneously combust when it closes with a thud. He watches you like every step means something prophetic.
âI wanna know something,â You ignore his question, and he swallows so hard you hear it. He lets out a soft grunt of surprise when youâre finally so close he can map out details in your expression and feel your body heat in rivelets.
Your eyes are innocent and sparkling, head cocked a little.
Youâre enjoying this.
Dex controls the cocky smirk threatening to spread on his face. He adjusts himself because heâs so sensitive and so unbelievably pent up and of course youâd have to be, well, like this.
Looking at him with saucers for eyes, breathing heavy.
âYeah? Whatâs that?â
He asks, and now his heart is in his throat because youâre kneeling beside him on the bed, situating one foot under your bum and your weight dips him towards you a little and fuck. Heâs ruining your shirt.
âYou didnât even go for my underwear drawer,â
You reach out and touch his face with your middle finger, grazing the scar on his cheek before tracing his jaw and chin. Then youâre pushing his hair back from his eyes and everything in his body starts vibrating.
Heâs done something good. He must have, to earn this.
âyou just saw a shirt I wear almost everyday and started touching yourself.â
Your hand doesnât leave his face. It lingers and sears him, if he could see himself itâd be a sore sight. Heâs molding himself to the curve of your palm and makes no effort to deny anything youâre saying.
âThats kind of pathetic, Dex. Keep going.â
Itâs a miracle he doesnât cum from that alone. Nothing in his fantasies, nothing heâs fisted his cock to in the shower or humped his fucking mattress to could ever have conjured a sweeter vision than whatâs in front of him.
He stutters when he speaks, trembling all over again with excitement and desire. Somewhere tucked away far and deep, heâs also nervous.
But you asked him nicely, and he can see your pulse thudding and feel how youâre starting to lean into him. He jumps a little when you reach out and pull your shirt off of the protrusion underneath it because it drags against him.
âYou know I have cameras, Dex.â
Your breath is against the side of his face and he closes his eyes to savor it as he wraps his hand around the base of his shaft again. The goosebumps on his skin are tingling, and his blood is starting to swoosh inside his ears.
âYou wanted me to watch. So move your hand, hmm?â
He couldnât stop himself if he tried. He gives himself a long stroke because doing anything else seems futile and useless and everything that could matter is happening right now.
His forearm is thick and strong and you watch how everything flexes and relaxes with each drag.
âYes maâam.â Itâs said sarcastically, teasing at the end and yet his voice cracks a little when he says it.
Heâs been caught, and youâre here beside him encouraging him with your voice and hands. What more could he reduce himself to?
Heâs so beautiful it hurts. Youâll be angry at him later, maybe say some stuff that would humiliate and degrade a regular person and mean nothing to him. You just canât get over how palpable your presence is to him, how intensely itâs influencing him.
All that strength, and brute and broadness and heâs nothing but this blushing, stuttering mess whoâs jerking off with you whispering in his ear.
You grip his jaw with little to no force, and predictably he offers you his neck with his head lolling to the left a bit. The sound that leaves him is guttural and nasty and honest. His whole body jerks at the contact too, but youâre distracted by the taste of his skin.
You get caught up sooner than you expected yourself to. Youâre mouthing at his throat, his jaw, his ear lobes. And you can hear the sounds coming from between his legs, sloppy and wet and itâs all him. Not to mention he is practically a lit wire under your touch.
You catch his thick wrist in your hand and the tendons flex harshly in your light grip. He looks over at you and now youâre low lidded gaze to barely restrained lust, noses brushing. You let the air between your mouths burn with the need to vanish.
You swat his hand away and he listens silently, fists your bedsheets instead and god, his pupils completely blow out when your grip replaces his.
âFuck.â
You let him whimper it into your mouth, swallowing it with your lips against his and there are too many pleasurable sensations at once. His brain is completely empty, not capable of any other thoughts. He tries to use his free hand to touch you, but you shove it to the side and he knows he needs to behave.
He pouts and itâs earnest disappointment, but it doesnât linger for long.
His tongue is explorative, finding yours immediately like heâs thought about kissing you over a thousand times.
Cause he has.
And heâs so reactive in your palm, you feel his pulse through the veins and heâs twitching with each pass of your teeth over his bottom lip and your nose brushing against his.
âThought about this for so long.â
He confesses it like it hurts, and you finally move your hand and his pretty hazel eyes roll back. You already miss it, his overawe gaze, and so you grip his thick throat just enough to grab his attention and fuck it does.
âDid you? Youâre unbelievable, look at you Dex.â
Youâre toying with him now. With his emotions. It seems that anything you say will dial him up to ten and itâs riveting. Your grip on his throat tightens just a little, Adamâs apple bobbing underneath your palm and his pulse fluttering like a moth underneath his flesh.
He looks at you with watery eyes, like everything is burning hot where embarrassment should be. Where shame should be. You lick his open mouth, taunting him despite the slickness between your thighs and the blossoming heat in your gut.
âWhen did you think about doing this? Tell me the truth, I know you can do it.â
He scrunches his eyebrows together when you start palming the tip of his velvety cock, focusing on the sensitive underside while trying to draw out a response. You tangle your free hand in his hair now, tugging. He makes a pathetic sound through his nose.
âA w-week after I met you, fuck slow down.â
Heâs genuinely overwhelmed. You canât believe it. Heâs more capable of submission than you thought, more attuned to your movements and your voice than what seems possible for not having an intimate connection until now.
His scar twists everytime his mouth quirks from your hand stroking him, crows feet crinkling by his eyes.
You tug his head back by his scalp, kiss his throat again and this time you let your teeth graze the surface. Just testing the waters, and his stomach convulses.
You remove your hand and he could really cry. But you can feel that perhaps that was going to do him in, and heâd spill all over his lap and make a mess of your sheets and you just donât want it to be over yet and neither does he and you both know that.
Shouldnât he know how much youâve thought of this too? How many nights youâve touched yourself to the thought of him? How you came home the moment you saw him on your cameras?
âPlease, goddamit.â
He curses, clenches his jaw and heâs only confused for a second whenever you bring your cupped hand up to his mouth. He meets your eye and you nod, he spits at once, and then your palm is back over him with the hot saliva coating his length.
He smirks again because you let out a small gasp you didnât think heâd notice, his lovesick eyes wondering how your lips could be so kiss bitten and swollen already, how youâre doing so good at trying not to act like this isnât working you up so bad youâre leaking and aching just like he is.
âYouâre so big, I always knew you were.â
His head starts throbbing, youâre getting dangerously sweet on him. Now youâre focused on his cock, switching to the sight between his legs and then his face because you donât know which one youâd rather admire.
And your body has gotten so close you might as well be on his lap now, your tits against his bicep and your knees knocking his hips. He wants to lift your skirt and bury himself between your thighs, to know what your face looks like when youâre getting fucked by him.
âYouâve thought about it too.â
You just smile at his musing, and itâs sweet and familiar and itâs the version of you that he knows so well and he surges forward to kiss you again. Youâre receptive, suckling the bottom and using your grip on the hair at his nape as leverage.
Itâs sloppy, wet and loud and he groans down your throat. Your stroking has picked up its pace, focused on the tip where that hot stickiness leaks and lavishing his shaft ever so often. Youâve now thrown a leg over his thigh, pulling it towards you and effectively spreading them apart further.
âOf course I have, look at you. You might never know how much Iâve really thought about you.â
You breathe it out, and his heart feels like itâs grown three sizes, like itâs being mutated in real time. It might be at risk for swelling so badly it bursts from behind his ribs.
Heâd chuckle in disbelief if he werenât ruined, gutted from the inside out.
And now youâre kissing all over his face, his sharp nose, the creases in his forehead and neck. Youâre hot to the touch, almost as hot as he is and your movements are full of tremble like youâre forgetting you initially started in a position of control.
He wants you to get lost like he is. He wants you to not be able to control yourself, to have no lingering thoughts about anything other than him and his body and his mouth and how heavy he is in your grasp.
He wants you to consume him, wholly and completely.
His eyes are closed so all he feels is you crawling on top of him and he bucks his hips instinctually, the heat between your legs just above his left knee as you straddle it firmly.
Itâs thick, meaty and the rough material of these black cargos heâs wearing bumps right against your clit through the fabric of your panties.
He wants to feel your naked hips underneath where your skirt has risen up around your soft waist, and your breasts in his palm and how your nipples would feel rubbing against his skin.
He feels you right here on his thigh and yet he knows that he wouldnât risk moving a muscle without your permission as to not end whatâs happening.
When you start rutting yourself on the fabric, though, dragging yourself all the way up and then down over his knee, he has to grab your hand and stop you from pumping him for a second
âJust a secondâŚplease.â He asks, and you oblige him only because he looks so pretty. God.
âUsing your manners, good job Dex.â
You say it like youâre genuinely proud and his eyes flutter shut as you fight his hand and start stroking him again. He grits his teeth, jaw clenched so tight it could shatter but he is surrendering in a way heâs never surrendered before.
And youâre not lost on it. No, youâre good at reading people too. You can see how the praise colors him in a blanket of warmth and lust and lightheadedness.
But now your clit is throbbing and you feel yourself leaking into your panties, the fabric is sticking to you and drags wet heat against your slit whenever you grind against his thigh.
The sight is just too much for you. Everything is clinging to him, every muscle and ridge and scar. And he is so pliable, so heavy on your fingertips that you donât know what to do with the reality of it all.
Your hips surge forward again, and a sigh so soft leaves your mouth that he hopes he can hear that sound forever. Itâs an immediate realization, a blinding sensation. He sees you with so much clarity.
âYouâre so fucking pretty.â
It comes out dazed and it takes you by surprise because you didnât expect to ever hear the word pretty come out of his mouth. And for everything he is, all the horror and all the hurt and all the misunderstanding, honesty slips out of him like loose teeth when heâs around you.
Heâs pliant when you pull him to your mouth, and the kiss is raw now because you let him grab your face and his hands feel better against you than your thoughts previously cojurned in half asleep daydreams. Theyâre big and rough and his fingers are eager just to feel your soft cheeks, the curve of your nose.
His mouth is vicious and his tongue is greedy, and heâs making little plaintive cries in the back of his throat like your lips might be his immediate demise and heâs thankful for it, grateful for it.
âMore, give me more.â
You say it like a demand but your voice is thin and weak and he just bucks his strong hips to readjust before using two hands under your ass to slide you over the shaft of his cock.
Youâre planted with his length directly against your covered slit and itâs heavy and hot and twitches against you when your body recognizes whatâs touching you. Who it belongs to. What situation youâve gotten yourself into and you know you wonât refuse him. That he canât refuse you.
Your thighs squeeze together, trapped by his broad waist in between them. You feel him everywhere already, the push and pull. Not to mention youâre sticky where heâs bobbing against you, and his chest couldnât be more prominent through his shirt when heâs heaving like he is.
âWhatever you want. Take it from me. Iâm yours, fuuuuuck f-fuck are you-â
Heâs never felt anything like it, the softness of your slit and how you could be so syrupy and wet already, seeping and covering his pink tip in your essence. Youâre so hot between your legs itâs making him lightheaded.
And he really is stunned in place. His body reacts for him, stomach tensing and torso attempting to grind up into you and the worst part is that you let him. That youâre allowing any of this.
Because now itâs made a home in him, not just the scrunch of your nose when something makes you laugh, genuinely laugh, or the skin by your fingers that youâve chewed off, or your cunt rutting against him.
Heâs already not the same, whatever infatuation he had is now dangerous and heady and sifting through his head like itâs trying to find ways to make it stop because he really needs this job.
Unfortunately, he needs you more.
Because now heâs gripping your hips and prying his arm underneath your ass to pull your panties to the side and youâre caged against him with the air knocked out of your lungs. Heâs solid and strong and youâre clumsy when you reach between your bodies to grab his cock and shove it past your silken slit.
You lift yourself by the knees, and then lower yourself and heâs completely seated inside of you with one exhale and maybe if it were anyone else youâd be embarrassed about the noise that leaves you.
âOh god, fuck.â You whimper it out, and he trembles. The stretch is severe.
You cling onto his shoulders and heâs so hyper aware of the pouting of your lips and the scrunch between your brows, your eyes closing like youâre savoring him. Heâs should feel guilty for his thoughts, for how insatiable and miserable heâll make you if you ever try to leave because youâre fluttering around his cock and heâs kissing your cervix.
âTake your time, not going anywhere.â
He encourages, and you donât really know what to do with yourself because minutes ago you thought you had your head on straight, that you knew how to navigate all of this and all of, well, him.
But heâs big and throbbing against your gummy walls and you didnât think you could ever feel so full of someone. Itâs incredible how he can become Dex so quickly, not the new hire or the assassin or the anti hero or the mercenary.
Heâs greying hair and scarred skin and rushing blood beneath you. And when your arms fasten themselves tighter around his freckled neck, he drags himself out slowly, savoring the syrupy glide before pushing himself back in to the hilt.
You melt against him further, body weakening with the intensity and he smiles to himself, satisfied and sanguine at your disarming. At how your hips couldnât be more loose on top of him, with all that tension and tightness right where heâs disappearing inside of and your voice all gooey and soft now in his ear.
God, he couldnât have dreamed it would go like this.
âYouâre p-perverted for breaking in.â
You taunt him while he begins pistoning himself inside of you, hiccuping each syllable. The sound of your wetness is as loud as his jerking off was, a terribly gut wrenching sound that makes his possessiveness that much worse.
And your words, they shouldnât make him shudder and convulse the way they do but youâre saying it while heâs fucking you and you just canât really blame him.
Your fingers are holding onto the back of shirt so tight, your cheek planted against the nook of his jaw and shoulder. Youâre putty in his arms, and theyâre tighter by the minute in their hold on your middle.
His hips are so powerful, and you wish you could think about how bad of an idea this is. You wish you could break yourself out of your fucked out stupor, but you didnât know heâd fuck you this good. You didnât know that heâd be so deep inside youâre sure youâll be able to feel him tomorrow.
âI know shhh, I know,â
he grunts it against your hair, starts searching for the skin of your neck. He just hovers there with parted lips and a red face and that hot wetness hugging him with each thrust.
âbut l-look at us, you feel so goooood fuck, look how it turned out, yeah?â
He sounds dirty, menacingly nasty in what heâs saying and how heâs saying it and most of all how true it is. You love it, itâs terrible that you love it and yet you were buzzing with excitement when you checked your cameras and saw his big frame sauntering in.
The wet squelching sounds between your legs intensify, and somewhere between the grind of your hips and your teeth against his neck youâre crying his name.
âDexxxx, ohhhh my g-god, baby.â
His hips genuinely stutter and his stomach starts fluttering, you feel him tense and relax three times over and his torso grinds into you a bit harsher than before.
He never thought heâd hear you call him that, and heâs glad you canât see his face because his expression is so fucked.
That word is reserved for people who care about each other. For people in love. For people who can say soft things and not feel ridiculous and out of place or like they donât deserve to hear it at all.
âDonât stop, j-just donât stop please.â You beg petulantly, hands rubbing his broad back, ignoring the way his pace has faltered and heâs softly panting in your ear.
He laughs, and itâs short lived and airy but you feel it in his chest. He grinds himself deep and unfairly into you, pushing you down on him while heâs fucking up into you. He feels the blunt ends of your nails leaving crescent moons in his skin.
âW-why would I stop? I canât, I canât.â
Itâs true, he canât fathom it. The thought doesnât even seem feasible right now. Youâre so tight, squeezing around him and he can feel your heartbeat inside of you. Rocks you against him sturdy and hard.
It feels like forever, with him pounding himself into you and your insides being bullied. In reality itâs only about five minutes, and youâve been sucking on the side of his neck and his earlobe and heâs balls deep - writhing his hips.
Your clit is being rubbed by his pubic mound and you feel so much intensely deep pressure from his thick cock inside you that youâre sure youâre gonna burst. Youâve started pulsing too, milking him for everything heâs got.
He really didnât know that he could feel things this intensely that arenât anger or despair.
It starts unraveling when you take yourself out of the crook of his neck and meet his face. He swears he sees a little drool seeping from the corner of your mouth, and youâre looking at him like heâs a completely new person.
Or maybe heâd just never noticed it before, because he was too wrapped up in noticing you. And the idea of you noticing him too felt unrealistic.
But no, no itâs real and happening and youâve got both hands on his cheeks and your nose is against his, your hips swiveling on top of him and your pussy making a mess on his lap that heâd frame if it were practical to do so.
âItâs all mine now, right?â
You kiss his mouth when you say it, and then your hand is splayed against the broadness of his flexing chest and youâre shoving him back until heâs lying down on your mattress, staring at you with so much devotion itâs scary.
You readjust while heâs still inside of you, leaning over to kiss him again and he knows heâs going to finish in this position. Heâs already hiked his feet up on the bed to fuck you good and hard and he hates that his boots are on your pretty covers but heâll wash them for you.
âIâm yours. My dick is yours. Everything. Take it, just like tha-a-at.â
Heâs whining and blotchy, and the strain in his throat makes you double over because you feel the white hot tension move in your stomach when his cock curves into the deepest parts of you.
You want it to be true, all of it, and the physical reality is too much for you to handle.
You shove your face in his neck because you donât want him to see how completely ruined you look when you cum. No, everything is shaking and youâre trying to close your legs and the tingling and throbbing is working its way through you like a virus thatâs got to fever you first.
âO-ohhh god, Dex mâcumming.â
You slur it and he thinks he might pass out because he can feel it happening. He squeezes you harder than he has the whole night, holds your wriggling body firm against his frame when he starts delivering his last round of thrusts into your cunt.
Itâs trying to push him out, itâs contracting around his cock and kissing it and weeping for it. Heâs never been so high off of anything heâs done to another human being. Not even the most rectified kills have felt like this.
âOh f-fuck, gonna fill you all the way up, mmfuck, youâll take all of it honey, yeah yeah yeah.â
He sounds delusional and dizzy, heâs past the point of trying to sound nice or sweet because his balls are tightening where theyâre still tucked in his briefs and he has to practice restraint like heâs never known so that he doesnât crush you in his arms accidentally.
You put your tongue in his mouth when you feel the staccato thrusts, the immediate heat that swells in the space between your walls as he pumps his seed into you. And heâs moaning like heâs hurt, mmmâs and ooohhhhhâs and his teeth on full display like a wild animal from the curling of his lip.
You let your mouth linger on his while heâs twitching and youâre still pulsing.
His hands find your face, and he sloppily makes out with you, almost casually if it werenât for the tremors in his wrists or the scrunch of his brows or the way heâs keeping himself inside of you while his cock softens.
Heâs happy. He realizes thatâs the emotion heâs feeling when you look him in the eyes again, and your face still hasnât changed from that soft and frowny pleasure contorted look quite yet.
You donât want it to end either.
Youâre sobering up, and the ache still isnât going away. Youâve completely crossed a line that has sent you into a realm you wonât come back from - because now he wonât ever be the same to you.
You know what he tastes like, what he sounds in your ear when he feels good, what heâs truly capable of when heâs got your body in his hands.
âStay.â You donât ask, just state it plainly like itâs already decided.
It crushes him from the inside out. Itâs too much of a good thing that heâs never gotten and if he didnât work with you everyday heâd think you were being cruel, offering him such a sweet thing.
Donât you know itâll make it worse? That now heâll be in here every waking moment heâs not working? That he will memorize every part of your life that you think others will never notice?
âReally?â
He asks, and you donât expect him to sound so small after all of that. To look so pitiful and blushed crimson and spent now, with blonde hair sticking to his forehead.
You nod, kissing his nose and his hands are smoothing over your shoulders, down your arms and over your back. Explorative and greedy and you arch into them.
âYou can help me put my window lock back in place, creep.â
His smile is completely and utterly Benjamin Poindexter this time.
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stepuncle shane and stepdada dex.......đśâđŤď¸
yes!!
they r always fighting over you actually..
i just know uncle shane is very pervy and mean when you stay in his cabin for spring break, like the program is run very strictly and you donât get to misbehave as much as you do with dex..
shane claiming he has to toughen you up because youâre such a daddys girl for dex, so he makes you come along on his camping, manhandles you a lot and tries to get you in trouble with dex.
while on the other hand dex always treats you so gentle cos your his little girl, never lets you do any hard work. he cannot stand shane at all because he doesnât like sharing but he understands that you have feeling for both of them.. he tries his hardest not to kill him but there are times when they get into fist fights
dex also keeps an eye on you when you stay in shanes cabin, you donât know heâs watching obviously but your stepdad comes by every so often during your trip to make sure youâre okay
uncle shane who finds out you've already had your first kiss and lost your virginity.. but not your anal virginity :( so he forces you down and takes what's his, reminding you who you really belong to âĄ