🤭

He grips your waist tighter, letting out a pained groan.

“Yeah baby, daddy’s cock makin’ you feel good?”

His gravelly voice taunting you only turns you on more, hands moving to hold sides of his neck. You let out a soft whimper buried in his hair.

He grips your hair tightly and pulls you back to face him.

His brows furrow as he grits out, “Fuckin’ look at me while you ride me.”

You nod, head bobbing up and down, babbling apologies softly leaving your lips, “m’sorry dad.”

His hips jerk up at that, a low moan leaving him.

He leans down, keeping his eyes on you as he runs his tongue around your nipple, once, twice, then sucks it into his mouth. Pinches your other one, dragging his tongue along your tits as he alternates between the two, leaving a line of slick in its wake.

You have to bite your lip to muffle your moan, gripping him tightly. Your walls clench down on him tightly while he keeps his head between your chest.

You slide a hand down his chest, your nails rake over the littering of chest hair there.

“Yeah just keep- just like that sweetheart, such a good girl for me, fuck.”

His husky voice spurs you on, and you drag your fingers down, over his nipples. Then you pinch them, hard.

“Oh- oh fuck, fuck baby I’m- I’m coming, shit!”

Jack bites down on your breast as his hips jerk shakily under yours, and he comes. His spend fills you, some of it dribbling down his length and pooling at his base where you’re connected.

But you don’t stop riding him, still searching for your release.

“Fuck, daddy, that was so hot,” you moan into his mouth as you lean down and kiss him.

He groans softly against your mouth, hands gripping your waist in attempts to stop you.

“Yeah baby, but you gotta- fuck, you gotta stop, s’too tight.”

You whine, “No dad, still need to come.”

You grind slowly on him, the patch of gray hair rubbing against your slit, feeling his cock hardening inside you again.

“Shit, fuck bunny- s’hurting.”

“Daddy please, please just a little more,” you beg as you litter kisses over his face between each word, whimpering.

He leans back, groaning as his head softly hits the headboard behind him.

“Please, daddy let me use your cock.”

He folds when he sees you pouting, bottom lip jutting out. Anything for his pretty girl.

His fingers travel down to your clit, rubbing slow circles. You moan softly, clenching.

“S’fine you just keep bouncing yeah? Be my good little bunny.”

You press a kiss to his lips muttering soft thank yous as you ride him, bouncing on his cock, until you come with a soft moan of his name.

He gets you back once everyone leaves the barbecue and he stays the night, giving the excuse of being “too drunk to drive back home”.

Little does your father know that across the hall from his bedroom, Jack’s got you splayed over his lap, fingers pressing into your aching cunt as he makes you come, over and over again. Until you’re a babbling mess crying for her dad.

It had been awhile to say the least.

Your dry-spell was reaching it's 2nd year mark, and how you made it this far was beyond you. For the most part, a porn tab in your incognito browser, your trusty right hand, and a wildly vivid imagination did the trick. It really wasn't so much the release that you craved anymore, but more so the connection during the act that you really missed. Sure, you could download any dating app or open any of your social dms and bag a quick shag with some random loser, but that just wasn't your style.

Neither was this, yet here you are.

In your defense you had found a gem. In a never-ending sea of cringy, solo male jerk-off videos, where they're so silent you turn your volume up only to realize, they don't make any noise whatsoever save for the slick sound of their saliva covered fists, you had found him.

CookieMonster69

So okay, maybe his screen name was cringy, but fuck if he didn't eat pussy like it was his job, and you found the goofy name sort of charming.

Well- you guess sometimes in a way it is. His job, that is.

CookieMonster69, or Cook as the girls in some of his videos managed to moan out during relentless poundings, knew what he was doing. Rather than seeming as though he was just in all of this for his own pleasure, he looked like he enjoyed giving to his partners just as much as being on the receiving end.

So one night, while scrolling through his seemingly endless gallery, trying to find that one video that was guaranteed to get you off quick every time, (you know, the one where he makes a girl squirt with just his tongue flicking her clit in justttt the right way), you noticed a green bubble pop up next to his profile icon. His icon in which his cheekily freckled face was posed with his tongue out between two spread fingers. Truly, you had no clue why you were attracted to this guy.

He was active.

A green ring around his icon started blinking. He had gone live.

You didn't even know you could do that on this particular site. Surely you would have noticed sooner? Maybe not. Admittedly, you really only stuck to watching his videos. Maybe looked up his Instagram once or twice… or 10 times.

Curiosity gets the better of you. Your thumb hovers over his cheeky face, hesitating for a moment, at war with yourself mentally, before finally clicking.

The view that pops up makes your heart race, thumping against your ribcage, and a flush immediately rushing to your cheeks.

There Cook sits on his bed, lounging back against his pillows, chest bare, and legs clad in loose grey sweatpants that sit low enough on his hips that the band of his boxers are visible, and do very little to hide the massive hard-on he's unashamedly sporting.

Both of his hands come up to ruffle his perpetually messy, auburn hair and he leans forward a bit to squint at his screen to read the notifications, and says your username, "welcome to the stream, love. Gonna wait for a few more to join, 'fore we get started here." One of his hands comes down to palm at his thick shaft and he grins, a dimple dotting his cheek.

You shouldn't have had a reaction to it, really you shouldn't have, but you could feel your core clench around nothing. He hadn't even taken his sweatpants off yet, (grey sweatpants yet) and here you are already getting wet.

You wanted more.

The chat section catches your attention, a pop up reading "comment for direct interaction". The chat pings as more people trickle into the stream. You really shouldn't, yet here your fingertips hover over the keys, poised to type out a comment to your favorite cam-boy.

"Love your videos xx"

Simple, to the point, not too raunchy. Innocent enough. Right?

That crooked grin lights up Cook's face as his thick fingers pull at the drawstring of his sweats, "What do you love about my videos? Tell me."

Oh dear God.

Your breath catches in your chest. You know he's talking to you. No one else has commented yet and there's only 66 people in the stream so far. You could always close your laptop and forget this ever happened. Go back to using your right hand and your imagination.

But there's a part of you that wants to see where this goes. How far this goes.

"Love that you actually talk and moan."

Why not be honest, right? What could it hurt?

He chuckles on screen, thumbs hooking into the waistband of his boxers and he starts sliding them down his narrow hips, "Love that I make noise? Y'know most people think I talk too much, yeah. I'll talk for you though, baby. Tell me more about what you like. Gimme somethin' to think about while I stroke my cock.”

You watch with wide eyes as his thick cock slaps against his belly, pink tip leaking precum that sticks to his pale, freckled skin. His brows knit together, jaw slack, as he takes himself in his hand, stroking from root to tip and back down again. He makes a show of cupping his heavy balls, massaging them before going back to gripping his shaft.

Your heart pounds and your fingers fly over the keyboard like a woman possessed, "I like when you tell your partners what to do and then praise them for it." You feel your thighs subconsciously squeeze together, hopelessly searching for friction. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Sexting with a stranger. A cam-boy. On the internet. In front of an audience.

Cook says your username again, "I want you to be a good girl and touch yourself with me, can you do that?" He drools a big glob of spit into his hand to slick himself up further. When his fist reaches the flushed, swollen tip, he twists and strokes back downwards, tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip as he watches as he works himself. He lazily drags his other hand up his abs and chest.

At least that audience couldn't see you. You probably looked like a wreck, skin flushed with heat and chest heaving. Before you can even regret your answer you hit send.

"Yes Cookie."

He smiles and tilts his head back with a throaty groan that goes straight to your cunt as his pace continues, "Good fuckin' girl."

Your hand snakes beneath your pajama pants and under the waistband of your panties, fingers meeting a wet, sticky mess. You drag your middle and forefinger through your slit, from your weeping opening to your aching clit.

"Want you to rub your clit for me. Slow, tight little circles.” On screen he leans back, legs spread wide, one hand coming down to play with his sack, his other slowly jerking up and down his shaft. His flushed pink head peeking out the top of his fist with every upstroke, drooling pearly white precum that makes your mouth water at the sight.

"Want you to imagine it's my tongue licking your cunt."

Your hole clenches around nothing at his words and you moan, two fingers circling your wet clit just as he instructed you to do.

"Fuck, wish I was licking your pussy while I stroke my cock. I bet she tastes so sweet, baby." He fucks his fist a little faster, the schlick schlick schlick sound audible even over your shitty laptop speakers. Your thighs twitch, and you can see that his do too.

"Would hold those hips down while I fuck you on my fingers and suck your little clit." He whimpers. He actually fucking whimpers while he thinks about it. "Fuck, bet you would squirm."

And squirm you do. Your hips lifting into your own hand as your fingers obediently circle your dripping entrance before sinking into your slick heat. You whine, eyes locked on the screen in front of you, fingers pumping in and out of your pussy at the same pace that Cook fucks his own fist. His boyish face contorts with pleasure, jaw hung slack. His blue eyes watch as he works himself, and then they look directly into the camera, your heartbeat kicking in your chest.

"Want you to come with me, can you do that? Be a good girl and come with me?"

You know he can't see you. But holy fuck does it feel like he can.

Your free hand clumsily types out "yes I'll be good" and taps enter, the need to be obedient for him strong.

As you see his eyes catch your message, your orgasm quickly approaches. Your fingers circle faster, watching as Cook's abs constrict as he strokes himself, his hips jerking with a faulty rhythm that has you imagining what they would feel like smacking against your ass as he fucks you from behind instead. The thought tips you over the edge, legs shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. Thighs closing around your hand, riding out the pleasure that courses through your body.

"Ah fuck, 'm gonna come." Cook mumbles out, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, gaze locked on his twitching cock as he comes. His head tilts back and his chest heaves with heavy breaths as his hand slows it's movements before letting go completely. His still hard dick resting in a pool of his own spend on his quivering belly. His eyes flutter open and closed and he smiles, "Fuck, that was good."

Your own eyes blink open again and look at the screen next to you to see the chat has gone mad, next to the image of Cook lounging back against the pillows, One hand resting on his chest, and abdomen painted in his own come.

You also notice the blinking tip button.

You click on it. Type in a few numbers. Hit enter.

An emote pops up on the screen to signal that Cook was tipped, and he begins to thank you.

"I had fun, love. You know where to find me if you want a round 2. I know I wanna play again" He laughs and grips his dick, "Most girls want a round 2 with the Cookie Monster."

That should have been enough to make you not do what you were about to do. Should have given you a healthy dose of post nut clarity.

Instead, with the sound of Cook letting his followers know his planned streaming schedule as your background noise, you opened a private chat with him and typed out a message.

In the stream window, he pauses mid-sentence when he sees the notification then grins like the cheeky fucker he is.

"Gonna have to go now, everyone. Have a little...business to take care of."

The first thing he saw was your tired eyes, barely open. The slip of your nightgown hanging off your shoulders, and your hair frizzed to the side. You looked like you just stumbled out of bed— probably right on that part.

You opened the door slightly, eyes squinting from the sun peeking past his shoulders, and then gradually opened them— realization crossing through your face.

"…Remmick?" You yawned, pulling the door open wider.

He cleared his throat, tipping his hat down. “Mornin'," he said with a nervous smile on his face.

"You're early." You said softly, turning your head to look at the clock on the wall. "I thought you said you'll be here in the afternoon?"

"I-I know— sorry." He shifts his weight from one leg to the other. "I just thought if I came early—" he faltered, embarrassed. "You know what? I could come back—"

"No, No— it's fine." You assured him, covering your mouth to yawn again. “Come on in." You walked back, pulling the door open to let him in.

 He stepped inside, removing his hat immediately. It was dimly lit inside, the curtains drawn closed. There was a hint of cinnamon apple that graced his nostrils, and the smell of Pine-Sol somewhere else. 

"I hope you don't mind the mess— I've been rearranging." You sighed.

"I-It's not a problem—" A flush slowly creeps up his face when he notices your nightgown. It's short, stopping just above your knees. He can see how sheer the fabric is, the shape of your breast outlined, your nipples hard against the material.

He gulped, averting his gaze to the pictures on the walls instead.

"W-Where's the um—"

"Kitchen." You pointed, already moving. 

You led him towards the back of the house and he followed right behind you, keeping his eyes up.

There were different family portraits on the wall: Family vacation, horseback riding, and a high school graduation portrait. He couldn't help but admire how pretty you looked in all of them— Especially the one you took during your last birthday party.

You were dolled up, wearing this tight-fitted dress that he could remember in perfect detail. You had the sweetest perfume on, heels that made you taller, and hair pinned up. He remembered he could barely talk to you without feeling embarrassed. 

"I'm glad you came— regardless if it was early as fuck. I wasn't sure who else to ask." You said softly.

"Y-Yeah…" Besides that, he wasn't going to mention the way he can see the pattern of your panties from the back of the gown either. Pink with white flowers scattered around, lacy trimmings that outlined your curves. How it hugged against the fat of your ass— Shit, he just mentioned it.

“Remmick.”

“What— yeah?” he blinked. Stopping abruptly.

“I said thank you for coming,” you repeated, stepping into the kitchen. “You're the only one who probably won't charge me a ridiculous amount of money.”

"It's not a problem.” he smiled wryly, “I um— I wasn't doing anything today anyway." he continued, stepping into the kitchen as well.

"Clearly,” You noted, leaning against the counter while he strode off towards the sink.

He placed his toolbox on the counter and stood in front of the sink. He checked the faucet by turning the handles back and forth. A low hum alerted him but no water came out. Then, he pulled a flashlight out from his back pocket and leaned over to look inside the drain. When he didn't see anything he quickly got down on one knee.

You continued talking, dragging your eyes over his form. “—Why else would you be here so early if you did?" You teased, watching as he worked.

Remmick glanced at you while he opened the cabinets, pushing a few things to the side. "T-That's not true… I'm always early.”

You raised a brow. "You? Early?"

"Yeah?" his voice wavered, averting his eyes back to the items in the cabinet. He took out dish soap and cleaning products from under the sink, placing them off to the side.

“I have things to do later— stuff,” he said, hoping it doesn't come off cheap.

“Like what?” you pushed. 

 You weren't buying it, but you were amused by how long he could try.

He paused, “I've got other things to fix…like my…like my bed.”

“Your bed?" He was a terrible liar. "What's wrong with it?"

“It's been…um…creaking— like, a lot.”

You quirked a brow. “Wouldn't be creaking if you're not doing things on it,” you said offhandedly but it made Remmick pause, his ears turning red immediately.

“T-Things?” He stuttered, almost knocking over a can of Ajax. "I'm… I'm not... w-what are you implying?"

“Suspicious activities— cardio?" You said out loud, like you were naming things off a checklist.

Remmick reached around to feel the pipes, ducking his head underneath.

"—A lot of movement? Active stuff?" You continued, "You're a man aren't you? I'm sure you don't just sleep on it.”

He almost banged his head against the ceiling of the sink.

"G-Goodness— Darlin' I think ya have me for somebody else." He pulled his head back from underneath the sink and turned to look at you.

"Yeah? Really?"

"I don't—" he stopped, trailing his eyes off to the side. "I don't…um…do those things."

"Things?" You pressed, a small smirk forming over your lips. "Now, what are you implying?"

He gulped. Feeling self-conscious suddenly.

"I-I didn't—"

"You know, I can tell when you're lying."

The kitchen felt smaller— like the walls were moving in on him. 

In the presence of someone like you, always so aware of things—especially him, it made it harder to compose himself. You looked at him like you already knew the next words that were going to come out of his mouth— probably the correct tone of wording as well.

"…How—"

“You do this thing where you look away, like people won't be able to tell what you're thinking if they're not looking straight at you.” You tilted your head, gaze sharp. “…Or maybe you're just that obvious.”

"Obvious?" He scoffed, "ain't nothing about me 'obvious'."

"Yeah?" You questioned.

"Yeah."

Remmick doesn't have anything left to say to that, but he knows you caught him when your eyes shift and the next words out of your mouth sent him into a spiral:

"Why are your ears red then?"

He cleared his throat, trying to calm the growing heat elsewhere. He goes back under the sink, hoping it could hide him away— or at least try to.

"J-Just hot in here— that's all."

You hummed, tapping your finger against the counter.

“I'm gonna go freshen up— I'll be back,” you announced and left without waiting for his response.

He couldn't help the need to glance back and watch you leave. He noticed how the fabric of the gown brushed the back of your knees and swayed with each step you took. You turned to walk up the stairs, stretching your arms, and once you disappeared— he quickly went back to working.

"Your ears are red." Echoed in his head. 

He wasn't that obvious…Well…maybe a little— but that's beside the point.

He opened his toolbox and pulled out a handful of tools, sorting through them with a furrowed brow— trying to remember which one might do the trick. With a heavy sigh, he lowered himself to the floor, twisting to lie on his back and scooting halfway into the cramped space beneath the sink.

The cabinet’s edges pressed into his shoulders as he reached up, entirely too small to fit a grown ass man, and he felt around blindly. The texture felt scratchy against the pad of his thumb, the smell told him that something was wrong.

A few twists here, a turn there— rusted knobs resisting him at every angle.

It doesn't take long to spot the issue: clogged pipes and the wear of an old, neglected house.

He doesn't know when the house was first built but the rusted pipes tell him it's probably no more than 40 years old— maybe more.

No wonder the sink had stopped working.

He tightens his grip on a wrench he pulled from his box, and gives another valve a turn—too far, too fast. A deep rumble shudders through the pipes, and a moment later, a sudden spray of cold water blasts him in the face— drenching the top portion of his body.

Coughing and blinking through the mess, he wrestles the pipe shut, the valves screeching as he cranks it tight. The spray cuts off. A second later, he hears the satisfying gurgle of water flowing properly—this time into the sink above.

He shimmies down, pulling himself back from under the cabinets, and wipes the water away from his face. He stood up slowly, feeling the way his shirt clung to his skin— dripping down onto the floor leaving a wet puddle at his feet.

So much for picking out an outfit today.

He shook his head, like a dog— hair ruffled every which way. He threaded his fingers through his strands, moving some that were stuck to his forehead.

He hears you a few minutes later, trailing down the stairs, humming a soft tune that abruptly stops when you notice that he looks disheveled.

“Remmick?!" You quickly jump the last steps, moving towards him in record time. You could see water dripping from his hair, the wide puddle at his feet.

“What—” your voice goes quiet when he slowly starts to unbutton his long-sleeve shirt, pulling it off his skin.

He was wearing a t-shirt underneath but it left little to the imagination. You swallowed— hard — eyeing the way his biceps bulged through the fabric. His chest was large, his nipples prominent through white. 

The fabric clung to his skin like a glove.

“Loose pipes, old house. The usual when you fix a sink,” he said simply, turning around to ring his shirt.

Your eyes trailed over his back, the muscles working every time he twisted his shirt,  squeezing the water out.

"I did what I could, but you'll have to replace the pipes soon. Maybe in a few months." He turned back around, holding his shirt out. "I don't suppose you have a dryer?"

You smiled sheepishly at him, "Nope, broken." You pause, and then: "But I have a towel?"

"Sounds good to me."

You walked around, opening a few drawers. Rummaging through the contents.

"So, how much will that be?"

"Will what be?" he questioned, watching you intently.

"New pipes? Someone to come fix it?" Suddenly, you remembered where you kept the towels stored.

"Well…Joe's Supplies could probably sell them to you for cheap, but—" Remmick's eyes almost pop out when he sees you bend down, opening a cabinet. 

The sheer nightgown was enough but shorts were overkill. It hugged you tightly, riding up enough to give him a peek at your underwear from the bottom—

"—So what you're really saying, is that I'm fucked?"

He gulped, quickly fixing his posture. His jeans suddenly felt too small. "Y-Yeah."

"What do I do now?" You stood up, towel in hand, and turned to face him.

He cleared his throat— something he's been doing a lot since he's been here. "If you, um, buy the pipes— I could, you know? Probably…replace it for you."

He could see your face light up.

 "You will?"

He nodded when you stepped closer, reaching up to pat the towel against his neck.

"Thank you, Rem." You smiled, patting the towel down his chest. "How much do I owe you?"

Something as innocent as this shouldn't be working him up— but it was.

"F-For?"

"Fixing my sink, duh."

"O-Oh, it's nothing." He smiled softly, leaning back against the counter. "F-For you, it's on the house."

You dabbed the towel over his forehead next, making sure to soak as much water as you could. "Oh? Am I that special—"

"Yes." He said a little too quickly.

When you quirked a brow, he coughed slightly.

"Yes," he tried again, keeping his voice steady. "Just let me know when."

You ruffled the towel through his hair, laughing to yourself when you moved it to see his hair mussed.

"Thank you, I don't know what I would do without you." You grinned, dropping the towel around his neck.

He gave you a face. "R-Really?"

You hummed, nodding to yourself. "What other person I know fixes things as good as you?"

"I-I don't know…"

"You're supposed to say 'nobody' ." You laughed, pulling the towel away.

Remmick gulped, "Sorry—"

"Maybe the right word isn't obvious, but, oblivious." You scanned his face, "Are you always this fidgety?"

He shifted on his feet, "I don't…um…know what you mean."

"You're the only guy I know who struggles so badly when it comes to the signs."

"The signs?"

"You know? When someone takes interest? Like that girl in fifth grade."

Remmick frowned, rolling his eyes like a kid. "Who? Suzie?"

"Mhm, you couldn't tell how much she liked you?"

"She used to bully me— called me a vampire cause she made me spill my mama's famous tomato soup down my face!"

You made a face. "'Famous' is an understatement."

"Understatement?! How— you know what? I'm not even gonna talk about it." He folded his arms, visibly seething in front of you— scrunching his face, biting the inside of his cheek.

He looked adorable.

You couldn't help the loud snort that slipped out.

"I'm just teasing ya, Rem."

Silence.

"Rem?"

His nose twitched.

"Rem~" You sang, "come on, Remmy, I was just joking. You really mad at me?"

You placed your hands on his shoulders, smoothing them over his wet sleeves. "Want me to apologize?"

"…Yeah."

"I'm sorry. How's that?"

"You don't…sound sorry."

You pressed closer.

His eyes immediately dropped to your lips.

Obvious.

"I'm sorry, Remmick." You said, hands moving to grab his narrow waist.

His eyes quickly snapped to the side.

Oblivious. 

“Look at me Rem— I'm sorry. Okay?"

The way you were looking at him, eyes soft and lips puckered. Face mere inches away and God— your hands. They were rolling delicate little circles in his side— playful and full of hidden meanings that he was afraid to understand. 

Afraid that it was what he was thinking. 

Could it be? 

It can't…can it? 

"Rem?" You asked, tilting your head. 

If you kept calling him that— he doesn't know what he'll do. 

"Rem, I'm sorry, okay? Can you talk to me—" 

It happened so quickly you barely had time to react. Your eyes widened, mind blank when he pressed his lips to yours. They were slightly cold but it wasn’t unpleasant. 

He doesn't know what came over him, doesn't know why he did it— but it felt right. He leaned forward, his lips on yours— kissing with that sort of clumsiness that made it known that it was real. 

He had to shut his eyes to keep from staring into yours.

His hand snaked behind your back, holding you close like you might vanish— like all those times in his dreams where it played out exactly like this. You, him, alone. Different scenarios but it all ended in Remmick kissing you. Whatever happened after he woke up instantly. 

You dropped the towel and quickly cupped his face in your hands. Just like his lips, his skin was cold but it warmed the minute you pressed your hand against it. 

You tilted your head, deepening the kiss, and the moment your tongue pressed against his—  the faint taste of you invading his mouth— he pulled back abruptly, sucking in air like a fish out of water. His hands dropped away like he was just burnt, eyes darting around your face.

His mouth moved before it could stop, "I-I'm s-sorry." He apologized, trembling like a baby deer. "I-I don't know what came over me— Oh m-my — I just couldn't help myself, and you were so close— and you smelled so good— a-and I thought that it was—"

"Rem, slow down." You laughed, shaking your head at the display of nervousness rolling off of him. "Do you see me complaining?"

He blinked. "…N-No?"

"Do you see me getting mad and yelling at you?"

"…No?"

"So, then, it's fine."

"B-But, it's not right for a man to come onto a woman like that— especially someone like you. I-I'm supposed to ask first, make sure you're okay with it, and then—"

"Remmick, if it wasn't okay, you would have been kicked in the balls by now."

He froze. "O-Oh."

A smirk played along your lips, "I'm not so delicate, you know?" You moved into his space again, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"A-All women are—"

"Not me." You said softly, threading your fingers through the back of his head,  fingers twirling the short locks of hair on the back of his neck.

He sucked in a breath.

"There you go again, acting all shy." You quipped. "Obvious, oblivious— maybe you're somewhere in between."

"B-But—"

"Remmick, I like you."

He opened his mouth but no words came out. He was permanently in shock, unsure if he was dreaming or if he was dead in his sleep right now. 

"I asked you to fix my sink— yeah, but also because I think you're cute."

"W-Wait— You do?"

You nodded. "I think you're so hot when you work.” You pressed your chest against his, the wet fabric staining the front of your clothes. “Especially when you get this look on your face when you're trying to figure out how to do something."

He looked like a tomato at this point. 

He slowly wrapped his hand around your waist, still careful and shy. "I think you're also…c-cute."

"I know, it's so easy to tell from you."

"Am I…really that obvious?"

"Yup."

“I-I’m sorry. I just…you make me so… I—“

You chuckled, “You don’t have to apologize.” 

“I-I’m sorry—“ he clicked his tongue. “I mean, I didn’t know you liked me. I just assumed that you thought of me as a friend…only.”

“Want me to show you?”

“Show me what?”

“That I don’t think of you as just a friend?”

“H-How?”

"Easy. All you have to do is keep your eyes on me, Rem.” Slowly, you got down on your knees, the water wetting your skin, and you peered up at him through your lashes. Your fingers hooked through his belt buckle, working them open.

Remmick gulped— his eyes averting off somewhere. But then they snapped back when you tugged his hips forward. 

“What did I just say?” You teased, finally pulling his belt apart.

“I-I’m sorry—“ he took a breath, “ o-okay.”

This can't be real.

He covered his face with one hand, peeking through the gaps of his fingers. His other hand was holding the edge of the counter, squeezing, trying to hold on as you worked him open. 

You pulled his pants down, smiling at how small Remmick was trying to make himself. “You're always so shy, I’ve never seen a man—“ your eyes widened when you pulled his briefs down after. 

He was leaking already, the head of his cock flushed red. Swollen and hard against his naval. He had a vein running along the side of his skin, twisting like a vine. He was big— bigger than you've ever seen. 

Probably the biggest you're ever going to get. 

"I-I know," he said, sighing through his hands. Flustered. "Y-You've probably seen better— something more of your style. I-I'm not normal— probably disgusting—"

"N-No." You quickly said, using the pad of your thumb to run soothing circles against his thighs. "Baby, look at me."

Remmick slid his hand down his face, chest rising and falling with desperation. He looked so scared, afraid that you wouldn’t like it— wouldn’t like him. 

"You're perfect." You smiled up at him.  

He felt warmth slide across his chest. "R-Really?"

"Mhmm, of course. Just look at ya,” you wrapped your hand around him and he jumped. “already weeping for me just from kissing." 

“I-I’ve never—“

"Kissed anybody? So that makes me your first?”

He nodded, shamelessly. 

“It’s okay.”

“Y-You sure?” 

"I wouldn't be on my knees in front of you if I wasn't sure."

“S-Sorry—” and then he huffed when he caught himself apologizing again. “Okay...” 

“I just want you to keep your eyes on me— that means you can’t cover your face and look away.”

“O-Okay, I can do that.” 

“Yeah?”

“Y-Yeah.”

You pumped him once, getting a feel— watching the way his stomach tensed. He was staring at you with such intense eyes, like he couldn’t believe that you were here— on your knees with his cock in your hand. 

"You're so cute, Remmick." You pumped him again and he swallowed. "You're always so shy, so nice— Unlike any man I've known before."

He sucked in a breath when you leaned forward to kiss the vein pulsing on his skin. 

"Am I the first one to see you like this too?"

"Y-Yes." He answered breathlessly. Honestly.

"A farm boy, nice, his first time— you're just wrapped in a pretty pink bow for someone, huh?” 

“W-What does that—“

You delved forward, sucking him into your mouth and he shuddered. Your tongue lay flat under the weight of his cock, but that didn’t stop you from rolling it underneath. You watched as his face contorted, his eyes darting from your mouth to everywhere else.

You could tell that this was hard for him. 

He gasped when you pulled back just enough to suck the tip of his cock, your hand pumping the base of him. 

He clenched the edge of the sink tighter, "D-Darlin'—" he choked, jolting when you pushed forward to swallow him whole again.

“G-Goodness.” He moaned, “I-I…you're doing so— o-oh.”

You pulled back, his cock slipping out and you grinned at him. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” 

“O-Okay.”

You made a show of licking the tip, precum beading against your tongue and he couldn’t help the high-pitched whine that escaped. 

“Darlin’— p-please.” He doesn’t know what he was begging for but the thought of you, the way your tongue kept rolling off of him felt so good— he had to feel more. 

Sensing that, you spit into your hand and grasped him in your hand again— moving your hand back and forth with an antagonizing slow pace. 

“What’cha beggin’ for, Rem? Don’t tell me you thought about this before?” 

“N-No—“

“Liar.” You chuckled. “Your face is already red. I think we’re far past embarrassment.” 

“P-Please— can…can you go faster?”

“Faster?”

He nodded, “Y-Yes.” 

You rolled the pad of your thumb against the slit of his cock and he groaned. “Ask me the right way then.” 

“I-I want your mouth on me—“ he gasped when you cupped his balls with your other hand, rolling them in the palm of your hand. He visibly shuddered when you squeezed, playing with them like stress balls. 

“Keep going. You got it, Rem.” 

“Y-Your mouth— felt so good on me.” He sighed, “A-and your tongue.” 

“Want me to taste you again?”

“Y-Yes please.”

You laughed, going back to pumping him and he moaned out loud. 

“You're so polite, Rem. But I’m afraid you have to tell me exactly what you want.” 

“I-I can’t.” 

“You can. Lemme help you.”

You kissed the tip of his cock, moving to lick the underside of him with messy trails of spit and precum. He felt his stomach tighten, the image of you like this was almost too much to bear. 

“G-Golly—“ his breath hitched when you licked lower, swirling your tongue over his balls, his cock resting on your face. The size of him was so obvious like this. 

You slipped him from your mouth, moving to kiss him once more. “Say it, say you wanna fuck my mouth.” 

He felt his heart skip a beat. “D-Darlin’—“

“Say it,” you demanded.

“I c-can’t—“

“If you don’t, I’ll stop. Leave you here just like this.” You gave him a devilish smirk, clutching the base of his cock without mercy. “Want me to leave?”

“N-No, I don’t want you to—“

“Then say it.” 

He sucked in a breath, trying to find the confidence to repeat your words back. But his hands shot out, fingers interlocking into your hair when you tilted your head back— tongue lulling out to rapidly slap the length of his cock against the flat of your tongue.

It was loud, wet, and obscene. The type you only saw in pornos. He broke eye contact, shutting them closed. Whimpering shamelessly. 

He was putty in your hands. 

"O-Oh— P-Please—" he groaned, rutting his hips forward without meaning to. 

“Please what?” You questioned. 

"C-Can you— can you do that again?" You felt his leg tense. 

You peered up at him, “Watch me then.” 

The moment he finally opened his eyes to look at you, you squeezed him in your hand and slapped his cock against your tongue once more. He let out a low groan, pulling your hair tightly without meaning to. 

“I wanna—“ He curled his hand against your scalp, threading his fingers through your hair. “Wanna f-fuck your mouth.”

“Say it again, baby.” You pushed, watching as he opened and shut his mouth like a fish. 

“P-Please— I wanna— f-fuck your mouth—” 

You barely gave him time to finish before your mouth was on him finally. Pumping what you couldn’t fit into your mouth while swirling your tongue over the tip. 

He rocked his hips forward, watching intently as his cock disappeared and reappeared from your mouth— wet streaks of saliva and cum coating him in a messy show of display. You looked so pretty like this, on your knees, working him over. Face flushed, eyes teary.

 "Darlin— mhm, n-not gonna last—" he moaned, rutting his hips forward. "F-Feels so good— so warm, tight— suckin' me in whole—"

You felt heat pool into your stomach, your cunt clenching around nothing. The sounds he was making were slowly starting to get to you.  

“O-Oh, that’s it,” he groaned. Desperate and needy, holding your head tighter when you pushed forward, making sure that the tip of his cock kissed the back of your throat. 

“R-Right there—“ he moaned, loud and high-pitched. 

Your hand guided back to cup his ass, squeezing him in your hand— pulling him forwards to help him fuck into your mouth more. You wanted to feel him, pull him in deeper. Your moans vibrated against his cock, sending an electric shock through his body. 

"G-God—" he rasped, both hands placed on your head to hold. “ Y-Your so perfect— dreamed about this.” 

You moaned, shutting your eyes, listening while your throat worked around him. 

"Baby— c-can't believe your doin' so well— so perfect—" he thrust into your mouth— once. Pulling your hair gently.

You could feel your cunt leaking, dripping into your panties with no shame. 

"I-I dreamed about this— you." He thrusted up again, kissing your throat with clumsiness. "T-Thought you would be scared of me—mhm, thought you might run away— " another thrust into your throat has your toes curling, stomach lurching forward. 

You clutched the globe of his ass, teetering on the edge of sliding a finger past. 

He locked his hands around your head— a warning not to stop, a silent plea to keep going— on the verge of breaking. 

"I was s-scared— T-Turns out, I should have been scared of you—Oh! K-Keep going." He begged, tipping his head back, jaw slacked. Moaning in broken whimpers of pleasure. "G-Gosh— feel so good— you— feel so good. Takin' me in like this."

You pulled back to pop him out of your mouth, catching your breath,  drool pooling from the corner of your mouth. You kissed the underside of his cock, and then dragged your tongue across the length of him. Coating him once more. 

He rolled his hips forward, his cock gliding over your tongue in one swift motion. "You're gonna— darlin' if you keep— mhm, keep working' me— gonna make me—"

"Y-Yeah?” You breathed, throat slightly sore. “Gonna come?"

He nodded profusely, petting his fingers in your scalp. “A-Almost—“

"Now?" You kissed the slit of his cock, cum coating your lips. 

"C-Close— so close."

“You know what to do.” 

You slipped him back into your mouth and he broke. Holding your hair tight into his hand, jutting his hips once, twice, three times— until he found a rhythm that made him dizzy. 

"I-I'm, darlin' I'm gonna— g-gonna come—"

You moaned around him, digging your nails into the fat of his ass to keep him close. Maneuvering his hips, helping him thrust into your mouth.

"B-Baby— s-soon." He gasped, throwing his head back. "I-I'm sorry for doing this— just, ohh— j-just hold on f'me."

You weren't sure what he meant but you quickly understood when he took a deep inhale and he used both hands that were tight on your head and pulled you forward— shoving himself all the way into the back of your throat, leaving no room for you to breathe. 

The size of him was too much for you to handle— so fucking big, suffocating you— leaving you to gag around him. Tears slipping past and down your cheek. 

A loud, whiny moan slipped from his open mouth. His fingers curled more into your head when your throat clenched around him and he saw white cross his vision. 

He spilled just like that, on your tongue, stuttering his hips— burying himself as deep as he could go. Your throat contracted around him while he rutted forward, trying to keep you in place. Your nose was buried against thick, coarse, hair that tickled. 

“T-That’s it— y-your draining me dry, baby.” He moaned, drenching the back of your throat with everything he had. 

You shut your eyes tightly, gag reflex screaming at you to pull him out— but you refused to. You felt warmth flood your taste buds— too much and still not enough. He groaned out loud, frozen in place, still cumming into your mouth, like you were milking him dry. 

Not once did you move until he was done— his cock spurting its last with his thighs shaking, and loud, breathless moans from his mouth.

He crashed back against the edge of the sink, letting go of your hair, his cock slipping out to lie flaccid against his thigh. 

You opened your mouth, tongue lolling out to show him streaks of white lying on your tongue like a work of art. 

"G-Gosh." He breathed.

He watched as you closed your mouth and visibly swallowed, smiling up at him— face a mess and tears dried against your cheek. 

You stood up, abruptly, dragging his pants up with you, and lazily zipped him back up— belt buckle still hung open, his body twitching every so often from shock. 

You wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him in close to press his lips against yours. He could still taste the faint traces of himself on your tongue— salty and sweet. 

You placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth, resting your hands on his shoulder. He looked so cute, face still red, ears burning— his chest still heaving.

You opened your mouth to speak, "How was that—"

"Incredible." He beat you to it.

"Was I?"

"Y-Yes…"

"Did you like it?"

"A-A lot… like, more than I can describe."

"Yeah?"

He nodded slowly, biting his lower lip.

”I have another sink for you to fix.” you smirked at him, pulling him by the hand. He followed along with you on wobbly legs while you directed him towards the stairs.

“A-Another one?” he questioned.

“Yeah, it's in my bedroom.” You took a step, Remmick trailing behind you.

“Bedroom…?"

You hummed, "This one might be tricky, but I trust you.” You looked back, taking another step. “And lose the shirt, you won’t need it.” 

˚ lion - tits guy, but quiet about it. he tries not to stare, but he always does. when he’s tired and sore from fighting, the first place his head goes is between your breasts, using you as a pillow while pretending he’s not thinking about sliding his mouth lower. when you catch him staring down your shirt, he’ll mutter a rough “sorry”—but won’t stop once you tell him it’s fine

˚ patrick - more of a tits guy, but with guilty obsession. after so much deprivation, his hunger takes on an edge of worship. he’ll mouth at your nipples like he’s half-starved, almost frantic, rutting against your thigh while his hands knead at your breasts like he can’t get enough. the shame flickers in afterward—the rough gasp of a man who doesn’t think he deserves softness, even as he begs for more

˚ roy - ass guy, but tender with it. he’s used to roughness in the world, so intimacy turns softer in his hands. he likes holding you while you straddle him, palms steady on your hips, thumbs sweeping over the curve of your ass. sometimes he’ll squeeze, just to feel you clench around him, his low drawl breaking into quiet curses. he’ll tell you you’re beautiful when you ride him, voice ragged but sweet

˚ oliver - tits guy, earthy and unapologetic. he’s a man who wants what he wants, and he’ll have you shirt undone before he even thinks of your panties. he loves to talk about them, praise them, bury his face there, nipping until you gasp. during slow, lazy mornings, he’ll stroke and suck at your breasts until you’re writhing, taking his time like it’s a ritual. he knows exactly how powerful it makes you feel when he worships you there

But you were older now.

And Oliver wasn’t like the other boy at all.

Whenever he kissed you, he did it with a fire that roared like the hearth of his cottage. It was warm and strong and powerful. He wasn’t afraid. You liked it. It’s why you almost pouted when he pulled away from you at the sound of your words.

He sat on his knees, his chest bare for you to place your hands on it, something you’d come to learn he liked.

But you didn’t move to touch him, instead pulling his sheets up to your frame, suddenly cold without him. He looked away in thought. You mistook it for regret.

“Oliver?” You blinked up at him.

After the war, it was crucial that you find a well-paying job to support your mother who’d been left lifeless in the absence of your father. The Chatterley’s had owned the mines in your town for your entire life, and Lady Chatterley was incredibly gracious hiring you as another maid. But the best part of your job wasn’t shopping for groceries or scrubbing linens in the wash room.

It was the man you met while running your fingers in the creek one warm afternoon.

“Got himself in a predicament, I’d say,” one of the maids had said in the kitchen. “What, with Bertha Coutts running around with other men while he’s out at war?” The other women murmured and shook their heads in disapproval.

You knew he carried a great weight on his shoulders from his previous marriage—current marriage, since she still hadn’t given Oliver the divorce he deserved.

But whenever he was with you, that weight seemed to lift itself. He’d managed to sneak you around the Chatterley grounds, hidden in the woods and lost in his sheets.

“Oliver?” You said again, reaching for his hand and covering it with your palm.

He blinked at you with an expression you couldn’t read—lust, restraint, or confusion.

Then, he looked down at your hand over his.

When he turned it over, returning the gesture, you noticed his touch was softer than it had been on your hips just moments ago.

You leaned forward and sat up close to him so his nose brushed yours, guiding his hand to your waist just to feel something from him. You weren’t stupid just because you were a young woman—you knew that sex was more than a transaction of wealth like your mother and friends made it out to be.

You wanted Oliver. Needed him in a depth of yourself that you didn’t know existed.

“It’s okay, Oliver,” you said sweetly. He didn’t know there were still women in the world as sweet as you, and you were the only one he needed. His other hand cupped your cheek almost instinctively. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

A darkness overcame his eyes, but it wasn’t necessarily frightening.

If anything, it consumed you with comfort.

“Oh, I’m not afraid, love.”

Without a moment to waste—because he only got you for so long before you ran back to the manor—Oliver pressed your lips to his again. He immediately pushed you back onto the bed, but not roughly or sharply. It was a gentle nudge and he went down with you, the weight of him pressing against your chest and core. His hand moved from your hips to your belly to your chest.

He squeezed the flesh of your tit, eliciting a quiet gasp from your lips that disappeared into his. Other than the soft sounds of the sheets moving, the birds singing outside, and the occasional moan from you, the air was pleasantly silent. The moment was for the two of you and no one else.

With your eyes closed in ecstasy, you felt his lips leave yours only to feel them again your neck, trailing across your collar bone to where his hand kneaded your breast. “I’ve barely touched you,” he said against your skin. You writhed under his touch with desperation.

You’d never been one to be desperate.

“Oliver,” you breathed his name like a song. He didn’t care about anything else then.

“You need me, love?” Oliver didn’t look up at you. He replaces his hands with his lips and latches onto the small bud on your breast, rolling the other one between his fingers. Your back arches into him, only feeling his warmth even more, as you nod with a whine. “Where?”

Oliver, a married man aged by the war, had experience. He knew exactly where you needed him, and the fucker was teasing you for it. “You know where.” You said, cut off by a moan as he presses himself close to your core. Just the simple pressure on your brag that was aching for him was enough to practically feel your skin blooming.

“Right here?” He asked cheekily. Curse the small grin he gave you.

The air was cold on the spot where his mouth was as he moved further down your body. He didn’t waste a single space of you without placing a kiss so that his touch is never gone for too long. He didn’t stop lowering himself until his head hangs above your mound, and when he saw your most vulnerable spot, he moaned.

“You’re beautiful, (y/n),” Oliver praises you like you’re a painting in the Louvre or a flower in the field outside his cottage.

“What’re you doing?” You asked suddenly.

His hands rubbed over your soft thighs, falling a little bit in love with how they felt in his hands. He knew right there and then that this was one of his favorite places in the world. “Don’t think about it, darling,” Oliver said tenderly. “I can love you in more ways than one.”

Once you nod and lay yourself back down, he exhales a warm breath against you. You shudder. “Easy, lass,” he called you. You didn’t know what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t the feeling of his tongue flat against your folds. They didn’t necessarily need the wetness, but it was oh so beautiful to feel against you.

You could feel his tongue sharpen and soften against the right spots. Your hips and legs squirmed at the feeling of Oliver’s mouth essentially feeding off of you. His tongue moved mercilessly against the most important part of you.

Then, you suddenly felt something tracing the outline of your opening before slowly plunging itself inside of you. You’d never known what it’s like to be opened. To be spread apart and picked open like a ripened fruit.

“Oh,” you let out softly as if there was anyone nearby to hear you.

He pulled his finger away before sliding it in again, soon creating a gentle rhythm that leaves your pulse racing. “Feel nice?” He whispered, slightly muffled from leaning his head into your leg. You nodded rapidly, unable to form words. “Breathe, darling.” Oliver told you before he slowly added another finger.

Two of them now stretched you open. His arms wrapped themselves around your thighs to still your ragged movements. Your knuckles turned white as you clenched the sheets in your hand.

And despite the uncontrollable fever rising in your core, you thought to yourself, I could stay here for the rest of my life.

But the moment is cut short when Oliver pulled himself away. You let out an unexpected cry at the loss of contact, mainly because you felt like you were on fire. Oliver moved towards you and kissed you again, but this time, there was a strange taste on his lips.

“What is that?” You pulled away to ask.

His brows furrowed. “What?” But he could smell it from his own breath. The man fucking laughs, “It’s you.”

It isn’t the most pleasant thing in the world to you, though it was also the first time you experienced it. “And you enjoy it?”

Oliver’s fingers fumbled the slide off his trousers, leaving himself in nothing but his trunks. You’d never seen a man so exposed like this. Your eyes lingered over his frame, taking in the image of him like it would make it last longer.

“It’s the best fuckin’ thing I’ve ever tasted.” He took your hand and guided it to the last piece of clothing on his body. He nodded when you looked up at him, and you slowly pulled them down. You stopped at his knees from the sight of his length.

He was hard and smooth, apart from the small bump of a swollen vein on the side. Oliver watched as you gazed at him. He would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. He slowly moved himself over you, and placed your hand over him. It was heavy in your palm. “Oliver, I- I don’t think it’ll fit.” You said almost in exasperation.

A gentle hand rested the back of your head on his pillows as he took his own length and slid it through your slick. The tip rubbed against your already sensitive pearl, and you moaned from the pleasure shooting up your spine directly to your heart.

“It will, darling,” he pressed a kiss against your forehead before you felt that same stretch from earlier, only it was stronger.

A shiver racked through your spine as your eyes fluttered shut, gulping down a small, “Oh, my god.” Your hands flew to his shoulders, sliding down his back to feel the way his body flexed and released with every movement he made. He entered you so slowly but so perfectly.

“Atta girl,” he whispered into your ear with only the slightest bit of restraint in his voice. “Take it just like that, (y/n), that’s it.” He could’ve fucked you to sleep right there. He could’ve twisted your hair in his fist and pulled your hips to his so you felt him right in the center of you, but he didn’t.

Because, unlike most men and many of the gentleman you’d encountered, Oliver had a heart.

You could feel it beating against your own, two unsteady rhythms somehow matching to create melody only you could hear. He continued to push himself inside until you could feel the base flat against you, allowing for the perfect amount of pressure on your most sensitive spot.

“Feel alright, love?” He asked, gently brushing loose strands of hair stuck to your face from the thin sheet of sweat on your skin. Oliver took your hand from his shoulder and placed it over your lower belly.

With one swift move, he retracted his hips so you felt nearly entirely empty before pushing himself into you again. Your mouth parted open, followed shortly by a delayed gasp at how euphoric something could feel. “Feel me right there,” he practically instructed you. And you could feel him. Just the slightest bulge with every thrust he gave you.

He didn’t quicken his movements any more, though if you could scramble to form words, you’d be begging for it. You only nodded in response, small whimpers falling from your mouth as Oliver’s hips began staggering. “Don’t stop,” you managed to say.

You could feel him shake his head against you. His chest rose with heavy breaths. “I won’t stop,” he said, partially to you and to himself. Feeling you clench around him everytime he fully covered himself again in your warmth was maybe the best thing he’d ever known.

And he didn’t stop. Not even when you felt his release shooting inside you, moaning into his hair as that euphoric feeling coursed through your body again. He felt it coat him in a hot slick.

Once he pulled himself away, the mixture from both of your climaxes dripped out of you. You sat up curiously and looked down only to feel a slight burn around where he’d stretched you. You gave a small wince and nothing else; it was slowly becoming a pleasurable pain.

“Now here, love,” he said. You looked up to see him leaning back on his arm, and in between his legs, his cock was still a solid weight in his lap. He stroked it lazily as if he was waiting for something better. “We’re not finished yet.”

“You need something from me, bun?” Jack asked as he eyed you carefully, caressing your waist over the baggy shirt you wore. Considering that he could see your nipples poking through the stretched material, he already knows you were bare underneath, warm and waiting for him to just do something.

“Papa, it hurts. Need you to make it better.” Lifting your head to rub the tip of your nose with his, you angle your face to plant a brief kiss on his lips, humming when he reciprocates and smiles against your mouth. Both of his hands are on your hips, offering a comforting squeeze to keep you present.

“My poor sweet girl. Need me to make the pain go away?” You nod, clutching at his shoulders and kneading over the thick muscle, the corner of his mouth curling upwards in a pleased grin as he let you rub all over him. “C’mon. Lets see if I can get you all fixed up.”

You didn’t hesitate to hop off his lap and take one of his hands in yours, leading him to the bedroom and laying down on the mattress with a pillow under your head and another propping your hips up. He watches you closely through his glasses, standing over you from the edge of the bed to greedily rake his eyes over your frame.

“Show papa where it hurts, bun.”

Slowly, your bend your knees and place your feet flat on the soft duvet cover, parting your thighs to reveal your glistening pussy to the man before you. Jack can’t help himself when he exhales through his nose at the sight of you, the edge of your t-shirt riding up your hips to expose you even further. Reaching for his hand again, you bring him closer to where you needed him most, positioning his fingertips right over your throbbing clit.

“Hurts right here,” you muttered with faux innocence, careful not to seem too forward by accidentally jerking your hips to chase his touch. A smirk appears on Jack’s aged features, the lines on the corner of his eyes deepen when he chuckles under his breath.

“Yeah? I can see you’re hurting, baby.” He flexes his fingers and presses them harder over your sensitive pearl, vigilant of the way you bit your lip and shuddered under him. Squinting at your pussy, he gawks at how wet you are; dripping enough to stain his skin, clenching at nothing and silently hoping you’d eventually be filled with something only he can give you.

“Haven’t been showing her too much love recently, bun. Thought you were doing well keeping her happy on your own, but here she is, starved from being neglected. I think she’s mad at me.” As he made his remarks, Jack’s fingers skim down to your labia, spreading your folds for him to inspect your hole further. Your walls flutter under his scrutiny, sitting up on your elbows to observe him and all of his movements.

“This is your fault. You’ve been mean to me.” His head rose slightly from where he’s currently situated between your legs, glancing at you and raising an eyebrow at your words. He knows what you mean, you two have been too busy to tend to each other with a recent mix-up in your schedules. You both hated the distance, hated not being able to unravel each other on any given day, and now you’ve had even less time to be together the way you were most familiar with.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to leave you high and dry like this for so long.” He leans forward to kiss you softly once then twice, pulling back to litter more kisses over the side of your inner knee, drifting closer to your hip and finally leaving a smooch over your mound. “Let your old man make up for lost time, yeah?”

And Jack is a man of his word.

He’s spent the past couple of minutes stretching you out with his fingers, as he usually did when he knows it’s been a while since you’ve done anything intimate. It started with one at first, just his pointer finger sinking deeply inside to measure how tight you’ll be. Your legs shake when Jack pumps his singular digit into your cunt, thicker than your own fingers, he could already feel your walls pulsing around his finger and adjusting to the sensation.

When he knows you’ve relaxed a bit, Jack bends his wrist and adds his middle finger to join his pointer, the stretch making you clutch the bed sheets and throw your head back against the pillow with a moan. You try so hard to stop yourself from bucking into his palm because you know this isn’t about fucking you, but about indulging in the intense perversions you share with the man that’s corrupted you. He continues plunging his two fingers in and out of your body, taking them both out until they were free from your wet snatch and driving them inside down to the last knuckle.

He’s considerate enough to have his free hand wrapped around your leg, keeping you grounded with the rasp of his stubble brushing your inner thigh. That was until he decided to curl his two digits to hit that textured spot that forces a squeal of his name out of your mouth, your slick now leaking out of your entrance and onto the sheets. Jack was tactical in avoiding your clit entirely, ensuring you stayed pent up and on the edge begging for him to give you a break.

As soon as he managed to fit his ringer finger with the other two, you were a goner.

Pussy stuffed with three of his digits, the heel of his palm collides with your opening every time he thrusts forward. Your lips were plump from how frequently you’ve bitten on them, your trembling legs were now on Jack’s shoulders to keep you open for his uninterrupted playtime. You’ve loosened up substantially since Jack started doing this, and from the uptick in your breathless gasps, you were closer than you expected, doing your best to hold it in and be good for him unless he said otherwise.

Whimpering at the feel of his thumb circling over your clit, your knees closed in on his head at the impending release that’s been tugging at your lower belly for what feels like forever. Jack peers at your face, noticing the tears that settled on your lash line, a stray tear streaking down your heated cheek due to your restraint. He thinks now is a good time as ever to give you what you’ve been craving for the past half hour.

“Know you’re not gonna last any longer, bun. Let papa know how good you feel. Soak my hand, baby, c’mon. Give it to me.”

Your body hits it’s limit, and at his command your eyes close shut and your spine arches as your walls choke around Jack’s fingers. Your exhale gets caught in your throat and your neck cranes backwards, arousal squirts out of you and trickles messily over his hand, some landing on the lenses of his glasses. He lunges forward to slurp up whatever was left, groaning at the taste of you spilling into his mouth, he cleans you up properly while your tired hands grasp at the graying curls on his head.

Regaining your sense of self, you whine when Jack finally leaves you alone, fully removing his wet fingers and cleaning them of every last drop you gave him. You held his carnal gaze, admiring his blown pupils and the shine you left on his lips and chin. He doesn’t even bother to wipe his face, not that you cared. Instead, while he had your focus, Jack takes a hand and palms the bulge hidden under his sweats, hard and leaking just for you.

“Been hurting for a while, bun, all thanks to you. Think you can show papa some love too?”

Before he even finished his sentence, you found yourself nodding absentmindedly. You think you could use a little more stretching anyway.

AONUNG TE TSIKA'U TONOWARI'ITAN

Aonung didn't eat it at the start of your sexual life. Honestly, at first he didn't take you seriously. The guy just wanted a relief, you know? It was "casual". You two weren't even that close friends, just occasionally teasing each other and swimming together. He slept with you when he needed to take his mind off a few things, and that just became very, very often when the Sullies arrived to Awa'atlu.

You were also assigned to help them learn the way of the water. Overtime, you grew close with both the family as well as Aonung himself. As enjoyable as it was, he didn't appreciate you picking up "fishlips" from Lo'ak.

At some point, he became jealous of the guy for he was pending way more time with you than he should have. Back then, you weren't mated or anything, but you were... his. Neither of you looked to mating with other people, having sex only with each other. He knew Lo'ak could smell his scent on you, so why was that forest boy taking your time away from him?

The last straw was when Aonung saw you and him sneaking out together. He immediately stole you away, talking something about how you had an important chore to finish. Of course, you were annoyed, yet not surprised when he took you away to a secluded cove you usually fucked in.

He almost threw you on the ground with how fast he was moving. He was not playing games, not today. "Why were you talking to him?" Aonung almost growled, his ears pinned back and wide tail slapping against stone in agitation.

"It's none of your business, fishlips." You responded like you were really pissed of, and partly you were, but you were also amused with the situation. You've seen him angry before, but never jealous, never so territorial. That made you want to tease him.

The insult hit him more than you'd think. Frankly, he didn't expect you to be so annoyed with him, not that much, but his demeanor changed when he saw mischief gleaming in you eyes. "Fishlips, huh? I'll show you fishlips!" He took your thighs and spread them open, taking a not-so-discreet whiff of the air surrounding you two. It's freshness was tainted with a musky scent of your arousal, which has started to pull in your belly.

Aonung growled, kneeling between your legs. His deft hands, the same ones that he used to prepare you for his cock, now untied your loincloth with much more care but still as much need. He bit into the meat of your thigh, leaving his teeth imprinted there and in return a yelp left your lips. When the piece fell off, the man wasted no time. He licked a long stripe up your slit, his rough tongue catching on your swollen folds and clit. You could not help but gasp, arching into his mouth.

He licked your folds open, spitting on your cunt to properly devour it. He wasn't very gentle, his teeth sometimes scratching your skin, but very good. The man was determined to make you forget about everything but him tonight. His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking on the sensitive pearl. This made you cry with a smile on your face, especially when he slid a finger inside you, curling against your favorite spot he's learned from the previous night.

It has never been like this before. Sure, he did take care of your needs to and made you cum, otherwise you wouldn't continue sleeping with him, however this time his focus was only on your pleasure. It didn't take long for you to peak under him, the sounds you let out making his ears twitch.

Aonung wiped your slick off his chin with the back of his hand. You didn't get to take in the mess you made on his face, but you saw him lick it off his hand like it was the mos decadent cream.

"You marked me, skxawng." You pointed out, the was no pretense in your tone. He admitted to it proudly, reminding you of what it means. That night was one of the best in your life, also partly because he finally made you his official mate.

After your lovemaking, you explained to him that the reason for spending so much time with Lo'ak was helping him court Tsireya and that you two weren't any sort of thing. Aonung felt a little embarrassed with himself, but didn't regret his reaction one bit.

Ever since then he ate you out even without the intention to properly fuck you.

He fell addicted to your taste and sounds, getting drunk on them every time

He became more skilled with it too. He didn't rush, taking his sweet time kissing it like your actual lips, having passionate make out sessions with your pussy.

Great eater that aspires to become even greater, and what's better than practicing on his lovely mate?

JAKE SULLY

I once saw a meme with him saying that you need to kiss the pussy before eating it to be respectful and that pretty much sums up this guy for me. Jake is a munch through and through.

He loves to eat you out and is always gentle and precise about it.

Very skilled too. If you were with him when he was a human, he'd make you sit on his face until you are satisfied since he probably couldn't use his dick after getting in the wheelchair.

"Baby, please, sit on my face. I won't suffocate, I'm a soldier!" He'd beg you, his voice as playful and charming as it was desperate. "You weight nothing. And even if, I'd die happily."

When you agree, Jake starts by kissing your mound, as previously stated. Long, gentle kisses down your slit just to drag his tongue up it.

He teases your entrance with the muscle to relax it so it'd be easier for his fingers later, then your clit. He sucks and licks at it, and of course, kisses too.

When you're ready, he slips his fingers inside and stretches your pussy. One by one, until it's almost too much for you

"Jake, right there!" You'd moan as he curled his fingers against the spongy spot inside you, his tongue busy with your clit. He doesn't answer with words to it but actions, putting more effort to please you.

Jake licks you clean of your release. He doesn't want a single drop of your sweet juices to go to waste. It's messy but he puts his whole heart into it.

When he is in his avatar body though he pays less attention to it, just a little bit less. That means no more face sitting only session, but more use of dick!

To prepare you for the monster in his pants he still uses his tongue. His new, rough and big tongue that feels like heaven and hell on your clit. It rubs it in all the right places that make you moan and shiver. He's so cocky about it too.

"Aw, too much for you, baby?" He'd smile against your pussy, his tongue teasing your entrance before sliding in. Your wetness helps a lot.

The drag of the papillae against your velvety walls almost makes you come. It's so, so much bigger than it used to be and almost fills you entirely.

Then, in his usual fashion, Jake'd take you to sit on his face. To rub yourself on his nose as he eats you like a man starved. His hands massage your lower back, even if you pull at his ears.

A different story is when you tug on his kuru. That is a region too sensitive to fool around. He uses his tongue to make you break, almost in revenge. He pretends to be agitated, yet his groans only signify pleasure, just like his throbbing erection.

Jake truly can't wait to stuff you full of his cock, but doesn't want to give you what you want just yet. He'll even deny you an orgasm and stop you from grinding on him, his hands stilling your hips.

"Jake, come on, please!" You may beg. Or demand an insult "Eywa, you asshole! Let me come!". The only thing that can help you now is teasing his cock and kuru until his desperation peaks.

LO'AK TE SULI TSYEYK'ITAN

Lo'ak worships you and the ground you walk on. Like, just look at him, he wants nothing more than to please.

He will do anything to please you. He's got it bad and he knows it. So when it comes to sex the same rule applies. To him, making love to you is an act of devotion, one that calms and relaxes him.

After a bad day, when Jake is harder on him than usual. Especially after Neteyam's death, he just feels so guilty and down all the time. Lo'ak can't take any more disappointment from others. That's when he comes to you.

"[Name], come with me." He'd ask so gently, his voice almost a whisper. That's the tone he uses when he needs your comfort.

Lo'ak then takes you away, to your quiet spot where no one interrupted you. He cries into your embrace, and you just whisper reassurance in a loving tone.

"He- It's not my fault! It's not my fault he died!" His five-fingered hands digging into your waist. His ears are pressed so tightly against his shaved temples that they are almost invisible. "Why can't he understand that?"

"Ma Lo'ak, of course it isn't your fault. It isn't anybody's but these RDA demons." You wipe his tears, cupping his face to make him look at you. You hope it will help him. "Let me share your pain, let me help."

You make tsaheylu and your soft cuddling with time turns into a heated make out session. Lo'ak's hands grab everywhere you allow, his grief and your love fueling the need pooling in his abdomen. Soon, it builds in yours too and that is when he gives you the most reverent look in his eyes as his kisses descend down your stomach.

"May I?" He asks with wide, hopeful eyes. His hands have already found the strings of your loincloth, ready to untie them at your allowance, which you give. He kisses your mound, worshiping it with his mouth as if these were your actual lips.

His ears perk up at your sounds of pleasure. He just wants to please you, to make sure you feel good. It makes him feel reliable, strong, good. even the smallest moan lifts all insecurities off his shoulders. Of course, he feels your pleasure through the bond, but you know, the moans help.

His lips wrap around your clit, thumb teasing your tight hole, spreading it. "Lo'ak... You're doing so well, pleasuring me so well..." You whimper. He hears and feels your need and slides two fingers into your heat, stretching you well. They quickly reach the spot that makes you see the stars, his own need starting to grow stronger

As much as he's not proud of that, every time this happens he can't help but rush to give you an orgasm so then you can join properly. Though, if you want, he is more than willing to eat it again after.

LYLE WAINFLEET

In my opinion... not an eater. Sorry chat, I'm think he's a selfish lover.

He will if you really, REALLY want him too, but he's not a fan. And only if your human too. He's not eating it blue, he will bite.

I think he nibbles here and there, showing off his canines, but not enough to hurt you. His recom body gives him a need to mark you every time he has his mouth on you.

I don't have much else to say... Mid tongue game but great with his fingers.

MILES QUARITCH

Quaritch, on the other hand, does eat it. Maybe not something he'd do day and night, but it's his preferred way of foreplay and he enjoys it more than less. He makes sure you're ready for him every time, that you are relaxed.

Of course, the big colonel himself fucks you to blow up steam, especially after a fight. He's not affectionate, yet not quick.

He takes a bit of time eating you out, but has never taken as much as much as he did when after becoming a recom. Quaritch immediately went for you.

"Missed me, sugar?" He asked as he pinned you to your desk, laughing at your expression. You were shocked, of course. You haven't seen the man in years after his death, and now it was a completely new body. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Don't worry, it's still me."

"Colonel, is that you? I didn't know you woke up already." You sat up, brushing off your clothes.

"Well, I did." he smirked, looking down at the hem of your pants, hooking his thumbs underneath it. "How about we make up for the lost time?"

Time wasn't wasted in taking off your clothing, he threw them off you, even ripping it in some places by rushing so much. A shiver, both from anticipation and chilly air of the lab, run through your spine down to your pussy.

He hooked his azure fingers under your knees and spread them open. His strength was always impressive. I mean, look at these muscles. You couldn't close these legs even if you tried, especially not now. "Happy to see me, ain't ya? Be a good girl and keep them open for me." Quaritch teased when he saw your erected clit.

His fingers traveled down your thighs to your pussy. His thumb, new and free of callouses, gave your clit a few firm rubs before spreading your lips. In contrary to that, his tongue was almost like wet hot sandpaper against your sensitive slit. He gathered the sticky fluid of your arousal on the tip of the muscle before retracting it back into his mouth to properly taste you.

"Sweet as ever." He whispered with a kind of... pleasant tint to his voice. His blue, much bigger lips tried to wrap around your clit, but sucked in too much skin for his liking. That means he had to switch up to hard work. His coarse tongue was running circles on your clit, making sure it catches on the tiny barbs. To that, you could only respond with moans and pleas for more.

His fingers began to pump steadily in and out of your tight hole, curling and twisting to hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. It wasn't to hard, as they filled you similarly to how his cock would back in the human days.

You came with a loud sob, but that wasn't enough. He continued until you were completely limp for him. There was a slight slip-up that ruined his plan however. That was him cumming in his pants, a wet, bio-luminescent patch forming on the moro fabric. embarrassing as hell.

He pulled away, hoping you were too out of it to notice, and you were. Not unconscious, but worn out. Quaritch let out a sigh of relief, knowing that his pride was safe from you. His yellow eyes then dropped to the mess between your thighs, and he decided he was generous enough to clean it up with his mouth.

He didn't know why he was so obsessed with licking you down there, but it wasn't all. He wanted to bite too. Your inner thigh looked so soft. He simply had to sink his new teeth into it. "Come on, don't be a baby." was his attempt to comfort you as you whined at the pain.

From then on, the sessions that were supposed to be just for releasing pent-up frustration and crushing weight of work stress became much more lengthy, more than a casual fuck.

NETEYAM TE SULI TSYEYK'ITAN

Neteyam never had a problem with getting on his knees for you. He's so giddy about it, making small jokes and teasing comments about the way you react to his touch.

He has a lot on his plate. Responsibilities of being the eldest, the pressure of being the next in line for Olo'eyktan, and you. You're like dessert, he never minds eating you and quite enjoys it.

He's a little bit mean, in a playful way. He will edge you until you cry for him. Neteyam does want you to beg, but tries not to push to far. And avoids it when you have a bad day. His goal is ultimately your happiness.

And you know when you had a really bad day? Before he had to leave the forest with his family. How could you be anything but devastated? Your mate must leave, run away to protect your clan and himself, not knowing whether you see each other again. It's a tragedy.

Neteyam's attached at your hip, not wanting to be away from you until he is forced to. You spend your time cuddling, kissing, and then in "bed".

He needed you with all his body and knew you did too. He wished for nothing more than to comfort you.

Two of you ended up making out, his fingers rubbing your clit. He couldn't bare to break apart at first, but later decided he desires to worship you with all of his body.

You gasped for air when the kiss was broken, your lungs burning. Neteyam sat between your legs, taking them on his shoulder before he delved into you with his tongue.

He lapped at your wet heat with utmost need, like it was his whole world. He had to hear you moan as his wet muscle rubbed your insides, specifically the spot that made your toes curl. You felt so good, didn't you?

He spent the whole evening worshiping you, because it was the last time he'd see you for a long, long time.

NORM SPELLMAN

He may not look like it, but Norm does get bitches and knows how to eat it.

In his human body, his stubble would scratch you a little. It is more a funny feeling than anything really, a little tickling. The mustache stubble would be very nice as long as it's not to sharp.

He's a little shy while he does it. Norm knows he may not be as handsome as other guys, and though he has many amazing qualities, he is insecure.

He prefers it when you use his face as your seat, that way he is out of view for the most part. You can just relax and give yourself to pleasure as he works on his most favorite meal.

In his avatar, he's way more confident, or at least enough to let you look at him while he does.

At first, his tongue runs across the seam of your folds with learned precision, just enough to spread them. Then, he works his tongue so the tip of it massages your entrance and the base your clit.

If his whole face doesn't hurt, that means he hasn't done enough. Norm may not be a soldier, but his program is just as strict.

TONOWARI TE TSIKA'U ARWAK'ITAN

Look at this man and tell me he isn't an absolute much. Like all of the guys here eat it (except Lyle sorry) for fic purposes, but I honestly feel that Tonowari will have you on his shoulders each and every day.

His tongue game is elite. Up to this point i was convinced he had it tattooed and I wanted to say it's for his insane skill but he doesn't. Still, my point is very clear.

Between your thighs is his safe haven. He takes you with his mouth gently, he's a sweet giant.

His tongue flicks over your clit, slight vibrations shaking your whole body from how good it feels. He does the same to your actual pussy while his lips wrap around your sensitive pearl.

He sucks on it with immense strength, and he is very careful with it. He's just very strong.

I think his fingers stay in your hips and chest, feeling up the rest of your body. He will use them later to stretch you out or at least satisfy your need of penetration.

TSUTEY TE RONGLOA ATEY'ITAN

Tsu'tey has been eating you out since the day you two became mates. To him it is an almost religious thing, a duty he never fails to perform. Your body is a temple he wishes to kneel at and whisper prayers inside it.

Not much has changed in his tongue game since the day he made you his. He only perfected this art over time, adjusting it to your needs.

He remembers that day very well too. The glowing tendrils of them tree of souls casting a purple light on your body, dressed in your best clothes and jewelry. You looked like a dream, a vision of paradise, especially when you gave yourself to him.

Tsu'tey made sure you were relaxed beforehand. He rubbed his face against your, nose to nose, forehead to forehead, marking you with his scent and making sure he was covered in yours. He kissed you as your kurus intertwined with one another. Your thoughts filled his and vice versa. In both of you boomed love as well as desire.

His pupils were swallowing the gold of his eyes at the sight of your pussy. He felt himself drooling as he looked at you, knowing he's found his place in the world, and that look stays to this day. "Please, ma yawne, let me pleasure you." was the last thing he said before earning you out.

When he feasted on your altar, Tsu'tey made sure to shower your clit with a ton off attention. You want his tongue? Why of course. You prefer his fingers? His pleasure. You didn't even have to vocalize your needs he felt them through the bond.

He takes a lot of time to make sure his mouth and hands make you come before you beg for his cock. Not that he makes you beg, just wants you to be ready for the absolute unit he hides in his loincloth.

He is very skilled with his tongue, using every single part of it to his advantage. Tsu'tey has learned well how to move it to make you fall apart at his hands. He even purrs while pleasing you, so that the vibrations run through your lovely body, but he does not dare to speak. No, that would mean he has to stop, even if this is just a moment.

He loves to see you come apart on him, so his eyes are always on your face. His preferred position is when you sit on it and grind on his nose. He knows his place is between your thighs, so he grips them tightly and pleasures you until you both are satisfied.

tonowari is a lesson in patience and overwhelming scale. being in his personal pod at night means the only light comes from the glowing anemones and the soft, pulsing bioluminescence of his skin. he’s sitting on the edge of the woven mat, his massive legs spread, watching you with an expression that’s calm but heavy with a deep, territorial hunger.

"you are so small," he murmurs, his voice a deep, resonant boom that feels like a physical weight against your chest. "sometimes i worry i will crush you, little one. but then i see the way you look at me."

he reaches out, his hand—nearly as big as your torso—sliding over your shoulder to guide you down between his knees. when you look up at him, he looks like a god carved out of the ocean itself.

"show me," he rumbles, his thick fingers tangling in your hair to tilt your head back. "show me how much you want to hold of your olo'eyktan."

when he finally lets you see him, it’s enough to make your throat go dry. his cock is a broad, heavy weight, his skin a deep sea-blue that feels like velvet but looks like iron. the girth of him is a literal wall; you have to use both hands just to get a grip around the base, and even then, your fingers don't even come close to meeting.

"easy," he breathes, a low, grounding sound as he feels your hands shaking. his tail, thick and powerful for swimming, curls around your waist like a tether. "i am not going anywhere. take your time."

you start slow, just tasting the broad, flat head of him, and tonowari lets out a sound that’s more of a vibration than a groan. he leans back on his elbows, his chest—wide enough to shield you from a storm—heaving with a sudden, sharp intake of air. the smell of him is all salt water and clean skin, intoxicating and thick.

as you try to take as much as you can, the scale of it becomes a physical struggle. your jaw aches almost immediately, the corners of your mouth stretched to their limit as you try to accommodate the sheer mass of him. he’s so thick it feels like he’s filling your entire head, the heat of him radiating against your cheeks.

"that is it," he mutters, his voice dropping into a rough, jagged register. his hands come down to cup your face, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones with a surprising gentleness that contrasts with the raw hunger in his eyes. "you are so brave for me. so greedy."

he starts to guide you then, his hips tilting in a slow, rhythmic grind that forces him deeper. every time he pushes, you feel the blunt pressure at the back of your throat, making your eyes water and your nose scrunch up. he watches the way your throat works, the way you choke back a sob of overstimulation, and his pupils blow wide until the yellow of his eyes is just a thin, glowing ring.

"yes," he gasps, his fingers tightening in your hair, though never enough to hurt. "just like that. keep your eyes on me, little one. i want to see you taking all of it."

he’s breathing hard now, the calm facade of the leader starting to crack. his hips move faster, a heavy, wet friction filling the quiet pod. you’re focused entirely on the sensation of him—the way he feels like he’s stretching you beyond your capacity, the way his fingers feel like brands against your skin.

"i'm close," he warns, his voice a jagged whisper as he reaches down to tilt your chin up further. "don't stop. i want to give you everything. i want you to feel the weight of me."

with one last, deep surge of his hips, he bottoms out against the back of your throat, his whole body going rigid. he lets out a low, guttural roar as his release hits, a thick, pulsing heat that seems to go on and on, filling you up until you're breathless and dizzy. he stays there for a long moment, his forehead dropping against yours, his massive frame shaking with the aftershocks of a peak that felt like the tide coming in.

you left before dawn.

the marui was still dark, the steady rhythm of tonowari’s breathing deep and even beside you. you moved quietly, careful not to wake him as you unpeeled his much larger arm off your waist and slid out of bed, gathering your things with the practiced silence of someone who had risen early her entire life. as tsahìk, the day would be long, you already knew it. rituals, healings, disputes to mediate and you did not allow yourself to linger.

he did not stir, just continued softly snoring away as you slipped out your shared hut.

by midday, you realised something was wrong.

tonowari had not appeared at the gathering platforms. no patrols had been called, no councils convened, no decisions passed through the familiar channels of authority that always bore his voice. an olo’eyktan did not vanish, not without reason.

you asked carefully. received only shrugs. uneasy glances.

by the time the sun dipped low, painting the reef in amber and rose, the feeling had settled deep in your bones.

when you finally returned, exhaustion heavy in your limbs, the marui greeted you with silence.

not the comfortable quiet of rest.

“tonowari?” you called softly.

no answer.

you followed the feeling rather than sound, your steps slowing as you reached the sleeping alcove. the woven divider was half drawn, as if abandoned in haste. beyond it, the space was dim, lit only by the faint glow of bioluminescent threads woven into the walls.

and there, partially hidden in shadow, he sat.

the air in the marui was thick, almost suffocating. you stood frozen in the entrance, your basket of medicinal herbs forgotten at your feet as you took in the sight before you.

tonowari knelt in the center of your shared space, his massive frame trembling with barely contained tension. his skin glistened with a sheen of sweat despite the ocean breeze that usually kept the marui cool. his chest heaved with labored breaths, muscles flexing and releasing in rhythmic waves as though his body was fighting against itself.

"tonowari?" you repeated, your voice came out smaller than intended.

his head snapped toward you, and you gasped. his eyes, those warm, steady eyes that had always looked at you with such tenderness, were different. the pupils were blown wide, nearly consuming the turquoise of his irises. there was something wild there, something barely leashed.

"you should not-" his voice was rough, scraped raw. he swallowed hard, the column of his throat working. "you should not be here right now, yawne."

but you stepped further inside anyway, letting the woven entrance fall closed behind you. "you are unwell. i am tsahìk. let me help you."

a sound rumbled from deep in his chest, not quite a growl, but close. the primal nature of it sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. "this is not.. this is not something you can simply heal with your herbs."

you moved closer, your training overriding your uncertainty. as tsahìk, you had tended to many ailments, witnessed the na’vi body in countless states. but this... you had never seen this.

"then tell me what it is," you said softly, kneeling a few feet away from him. "help me understand."

tonowari's hands were clenched into fists against his thighs, knuckles pale with the force of his grip. "the heat," he managed, each word seeming to cost him. "it comes.. sometimes. for our kind. i thought i had more time before-" he cut himself off with a sharp inhale as his body shuddered.

heat.

you had heard whispers of it, vague mentions from the elders, but never the details. it had always been spoken of in hushed tones, something private, something sacred and raw.

"how long does it last?" you asked, your healer's mind trying to categorise, to understand.

"days." the word came out almost as a groan. "sometimes longer. i need-" he stopped himself, jaw clenching so hard you could see the muscle jump. "you need to leave. now. before i-"

"before you what?"

his eyes locked onto yours, and the intensity there stole your breath. "before i lose control."

you should have been frightened. perhaps you would have been, if not for the way his entire body was angled away from you, every muscle straining with the effort of maintaining distance. despite the wildness in his eyes, despite the trembling in his massive frame, he was still trying to protect you. even now.

"i am your mate," you said quietly. "i will not leave you to suffer alone."

"you do not understand what you are offering." his voice dropped to something almost guttural. "the heat.. it is not gentle. it is not.. controlled. i would not be myself. i would-" he squeezed his eyes shut, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. "i would breed you. claim you. i would not be able to stop until-"

the words sent a jolt through your body, something hot and liquid pooling low in your belly. you had mated with tonowari before, had joined with him in the way of the na’vi, but there had always been such tenderness, such care. this.. this was something else entirely.

"show me," you whispered.

his eyes flew open in a panicked state, "no."

"i want to understand. show me what the heat does to you."

for a long moment, he simply stared at you, his chest heaving. then, slowly, he shifted. the movement was careful, deliberate, as though he was fighting his body's every instinct.

he turned slightly, and you saw it, the evidence of his arousal, impossible to hide. his loincloth was tented obscenely, and even through the fabric you could see the way his cock strained, could see it twitch and pulse with his heartbeat. but there was something else, something that made your breath catch.

at the base, barely visible, was a swelling. even now, even without stimulation, his body was preparing for something.

"the knot," he gritted out, following your gaze. "it will.. when i am inside, it will swell. lock us together. keep my seed deep until-" he shuddered violently, cutting himself off.

your thighs pressed together involuntarily. the clinical part of your mind was fascinated, cataloging this new information. but the rest of you.. the rest of you was responding to something far more primal.

the scent in the marui had grown stronger. you had noticed it when you first entered, but now it was almost overwhelming, salt and musk and something uniquely tonowari, but amplified, concentrated. it made your head swim, made your skin feel too tight.

"your scent," you murmured, almost to yourself.

he made a pained sound. "it calls to potential mates. tells them i am.. ready. fertile." the last word came out as almost a snarl. "you should not be breathing it in. it will affect you, make you.."

but you were already affected. you could feel it, the way your body was responding without your permission. your nipples had tightened beneath your woven top, your skin felt flushed and sensitive. and between your legs, you were growing wet.

"tonowari," you breathed.

"no." he shook his head violently, hair whipping. "no, you do not want this. not truly. it is the scent, the pheromones. i will not take advantage-"

"i am your mate," you repeated, firmer this time. you moved closer, close enough now that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. it was like sitting near a fire. "before eywa, we are bonded. if this is part of you, then i want to know it. all of it."

his control was cracking. you could see it in the way his pupils dilated further, in the way his nostrils flared as he scented you in return. his hands unclenched only to clench again, and you realised he was stopping himself from reaching for you.

"please," he whispered, and you had never heard him sound so desperate. "please, yawne. i am trying. i am trying so hard to-" his words dissolved into a groan as another shudder wracked his frame.

you made your decision.

slowly, deliberately, you reached up and untied your woven top, letting it fall away. your breasts were bare before him, nipples peaked and aching.

the sound that tore from tonowari's throat was nothing short of animalistic.

"what are you doing?" the words were barely intelligible, his accent thickening with his loss of control.

"i am your mate," you said for the third time. "and i am choosing this. i am choosing you. all of you."

you reached for the ties of your loincloth.

"stop." the command was sharp, but his eyes were glued to your movements, tracking every shift of your fingers. "if you do this.. if you bare yourself to me now.. I will not be able to-"

"i know."

the loincloth fell away.

for one heartbeat, two, tonowari remained frozen. his entire body was rigid, every muscle locked and trembling. you could see the war raging behind his eyes, the last threads of his control being tested to their absolute limit.

then you shifted, and your scent, your arousal, reached him fully.

those final threads snapped.

the change was instantaneous. his pupils blew so wide his eyes looked black. his lips pulled back from his teeth in something between a snarl and a grimace. and his body moved before his mind could stop it.

he was on you in a heartbeat.

his massive hands gripped your waist, lifting you as though you weighed nothing. your back hit the woven mat, his body covering yours, and the heat of him was scorching. he was everywhere at once, his scent surrounding you, his weight pressing you down, his breath hot against your neck.

"mine," he growled against your skin, the word vibrating through your bones. "mine. my mate. mine to breed. mine to fill. mine."

his hips were already moving, grinding against you with desperate, uncoordinated need. you could feel his cock, impossibly hard, sliding against your slick folds. the knot at the base was more swollen now, you could feel it catching against your entrance with each thrust.

"tonowari," you gasped, your hands finding his shoulders, his back, anywhere you could touch.

he was mouthing at your neck, your jaw, his teeth scraping over your pulse point. not biting, not yet, but the threat was there. the promise.

"going to fill you," he panted, his voice wrecked. "going to pump you so full. going to knot you, breed you, make sure it takes. need to-need to-"

his hand slid between your bodies, and you felt his fingers at your entrance, testing, preparing. even lost to the heat, some part of him was still trying to care for you, still trying to make sure you could take him.

you were soaked, your body responding to his with an eagerness that might have embarrassed you if you could think clearly. but rational thought was becoming impossible. there was only sensation, his fingers stretching you, his scent in your lungs, his weight anchoring you to the earth.

"please," you heard yourself whimper. "please, i need-"

"i know what you need." his voice was pure gravel, pure sin. "i can smell it. smell how wet you are for me. how ready. your body knows. knows what it needs. knows what i am going to do to it."

he withdrew his fingers, and you felt the blunt head of his cock press against your entrance. he was huge, bigger than you remembered, or perhaps the heat had made him swell even more. for a moment, you wondered if you could take him, if your body could accommodate-

then he began to push inside, and all thoughts scattered.

the stretch was intense, overwhelming. your body yielded to him slowly, accepting him inch by inch. tonowari’s arms were shaking where they bracketed your head, his teeth clenched as he fought to maintain some semblance of control even now.

"so tight," he gritted out. "so perfect. made for me. made to take me. made to-" his hips jerked forward involuntarily, seating himself deeper, and you both cried out.

he was only halfway inside, and already you felt impossibly full. your walls fluttered around him, trying to adjust, and each small movement made him groan.

"more," you gasped, your legs wrapping around his waist, trying to pull him deeper. "tonowari, please, more-"

his control shattered completely.

with a roar that almost shook the marui, he slammed forward, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. the growing knot pressed against your entrance, not quite inside yet but promising, threatening. your back arched off the mat, a scream tearing from your throat, pleasure and pain and overwhelming fullness all at once.

and then he began to move.

there was nothing gentle about it. nothing careful. the heat had him completely now, instinct overriding everything else, and he fucked into you with a desperation that bordered on violence. each thrust was deep, punishing, driving the air from your lungs. the wet sounds of your bodies joining filled the marui, obscene and primal.

"look at you," he growled, his voice barely recognisable. "look how you take me. so small beneath me, and yet.." he punctuated the words with a particularly brutal thrust that made you sob. "yet you take every inch. every fucking inch of me."

you could barely breathe, barely think. he was so deep, reaching places inside you that you hadn't known existed. the stretch was almost too much, your body struggling to accommodate his size, but the pleasure was devastating. each drag of his cock against your walls sent sparks of sensation through your entire body.

"tonowari," you gasped, your nails raking down his back. "i can't.. it’s too much-"

"you can," he snarled, one massive hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise, holding you in place as he drove into you again and again. "you will. you were made for this. made to be bred by me."

the word sent a shock of heat through you. bred. your body clenched around him involuntarily, and he groaned, his pace somehow becoming even more frantic.

"yes," he hissed. "you like that. like knowing i am going to fill you. going to breed you until you are round with my child. going to pump you so full.."

his other hand pressed down on your lower stomach, and you both felt it, the bulge of his cock moving inside you, visible beneath your skin. the size difference had never been more apparent. he was so large, and you were so much smaller, and yet your body was taking him, stretching around him, accommodating every thick inch.

"eywa," tonowari breathed, his eyes fixed on where his hand pressed, watching the bulge appear and disappear with each thrust. "look at you. look at what i do to you. i can see myself inside you, yawne. see how deep i reach."

you looked down, and the sight made you clench around him again. your stomach distended slightly with each thrust, the outline of him visible, proof of how thoroughly he was claiming you. it should have been frightening. instead, it made something hot and primal coil tighter in your core.

"harder," you heard yourself beg, your voice wrecked. "please tonowari."

he obliged, his hips snapping forward with bruising force. the angle shifted, and suddenly he was hitting something inside you that made sparks burst behind your eyes. you screamed, your body convulsing, and your first orgasm tore through you with devastating intensity.

but tonowari did not stop. did not even slow. he fucked you through it, prolonging it, his own breathing ragged and desperate.

"that is it," he growled. "come on my cock. squeeze me. show me how much you need this. need me."

you were sobbing now, overwhelmed by sensation, by the relentless pace, by the feeling of being so completely filled. your body was his, pinned beneath his much larger frame, helpless to do anything but take what he gave you.

"going to knot you," he panted, his thrusts becoming shorter, more focused. "going to lock myself inside this cunt and fill it until it takes. until everyone knows you are mine. carrying my child."

you felt it then, the knot at the base of his cock beginning to swell. it caught on your entrance with each thrust, not quite pushing inside yet but getting larger, harder. the stretch was already almost unbearable, and the knot was only going to make it worse.

"i do not know if i can-" you gasped, but your body was already responding, already trying to accept it.

"you can," tonowari said, his voice rough with certainty. "you will. your body knows what it needs. knows it needs to be bred properly. knotted and filled and claimed."

his hand slid between your bodies, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves above where you were joined, and he pressed down hard. the combination of sensations, his cock driving deep, the knot catching and stretching, his fingers on your clit, sent you over the edge again.

this orgasm was even more intense than the first, your entire body seizing, walls clamping down on him like a vice. and in that moment of heightened sensitivity, when your body was most pliant, most open, tonowari thrusted forward hard and the knot pushed inside.

the stretch was impossible. overwhelming. you screamed, back arching, as your body struggled to accommodate the thick swell now locked inside you. it was too much, far too much, and yet your body accepted it, stretched around it, held it.

"yes," tonowari roared, his hips grinding against yours, the knot preventing him from pulling out now. "yes, take it. take all of me. perfect. so fucking perfect."

he was locked inside you completely now, the knot ensuring that nothing would escape, that every drop of his release would stay deep inside where it belonged. the pressure was intense, the fullness beyond anything you had imagined. you could feel him throbbing inside you, could feel the knot pulsing.

and then he began to cum.

the first pulse of his release, there was so much of it. he groaned, his entire body shuddering, and you felt it flooding you, filling you, with nowhere to go because of the knot sealing you together. your stomach began to distend further, the bulge becoming more pronounced as he emptied himself inside you.

"look," he commanded, his hand pressing on your stomach again. "look at how i fill you. how much i give you."

you looked down and saw your belly swelling slightly, rounded with the sheer volume of his seed. it should have been impossible, but the knot kept everything locked inside, and he was still coming, still filling you. the sight was obscene and primal and deeply, fundamentally right.

"tonowari," you whimpered, your hands clutching at his shoulders. the pressure was intense, almost painful, but the satisfaction was bone-deep. this was what the heat demanded. what his body needed. to breed his mate thoroughly, completely, until there was no doubt that it would take.

"i know," he murmured, his voice softening slightly even as his hips continued to grind against yours in small, instinctive movements. "i know, yawne. you are doing so well. taking everything i give you. so small, and yet you hold all of me. all of my seed."

his hand stroked over your distended stomach almost reverently, feeling the swell of it, the proof of his claim. you were marked inside and out now, filled and knotted and bred exactly as instinct demanded.

the knot would not go down for a while yet. you were locked together, his cock still hard inside you, still pulsing occasionally with aftershocks. every small movement sent sparks of over-sensitised pleasure-pain through you.

"this is just the first," tonowari said, his eyes still dark with heat even though the desperate edge had dulled slightly. "the heat will last days. i will take you again and again. will keep you full and bred until my body is satisfied that you carry my child."

you shivered at the promise in his words, at the knowledge that this was far from over. your body was already exhausted, overwhelmed, and yet some deep part of you responded to his words with want.

"rest now," he murmured, carefully shifting you both so you lay on your sides, still locked together. his much larger body curled around yours protectively, one hand splayed possessively over your swollen stomach. "rest while you can. i will need you again soon."

you could already feel it, the heat building in him again, the way his cock twitched inside you, the tension returning to his muscles. this was only the beginning. the heat would drive him to take you repeatedly, to ensure his seed took root, and your body would have to endure it all.

time became fluid, measured only in the rhythm of tonowari's breathing against your neck and the slow, aching throb where you were still joined. minutes or hours might have passed, you could not tell. your body trembled with aftershocks, oversensitive and wrung out, while his seed continued to pulse weakly inside you, trapped by the knot that showed no signs of softening.

until finally, gradually, you felt it begin to recede.

the process was slow, almost agonising in its own way. each millimeter the swelling decreased made you acutely aware of how stretched you had been, how completely he had claimed every inch of you. tonowari's breathing had evened out behind you, his grip loosening slightly, and for a moment you thought perhaps the heat had broken.

you were wrong.

when the knot had finally softened enough, he pulled out with a low groan, and the rush of fluid that followed was obscene. it poured from you, thick and hot, far too much for your body to contain. You gasped at the sensation, at the sudden emptiness after being so impossibly full, and felt it coating your thighs, soaking into the woven mat beneath you.

"look at you," tonowari breathed, his voice rough with renewed hunger. his hand slid between your legs, fingers gathering the mess he had made, pushing it back inside you with a possessiveness that made you whimper. "leaking already. your body cannot even hold all i give you."

you were too exhausted to respond, your muscles liquid, your mind hazy. you thought perhaps he would let you rest now, let you recover before-

his scent hit you again, sharper than before, more intense. the heat was rising in him once more, faster this time, more demanding. you felt him shift behind you, felt his cock already hardening again against your lower back, and your breath caught.

"tonowari," you managed, your voice hoarse. "i need-"

"i know what you need," he growled, and suddenly his hands were on you, rolling you onto your stomach with an ease that reminded you exactly how much larger he was, how easily he could move you, position you, take you however he wanted. "you need your mate to breed you properly. to fill you until your body has no choice but to accept my child."

your arms were shaking as you tried to push yourself up, but he was already there, one massive hand pressing between your shoulder blades, keeping your chest down while his other hand gripped your hip, pulling your ass up.

the position made you feel even smaller beneath him, vulnerable and exposed. you could feel him behind you, the heat radiating from his body, the weight of his cock resting against your abused entrance. you were still so sensitive, still swollen and tender from the first round, and yet your body responded, slick gathering despite the soreness.

"i cannot be gentle this time," tonowari warned, but there was no apology in his voice. only raw need. "the heat, it is worse now. stronger. i need to mount you, breed you, make sure it takes."

"then do it," you gasped, because what else could you say? this was what the heat demanded. what his body needed. and yours would endure it.

he entered you in one brutal thrust.

you cried out, the stretch even more intense from this angle, the way gravity pulled you down onto him as he drove up into you. there was no careful working in this time, no gradual adjustment. he simply took, claimed, filled you with the single-minded focus of a male in the grip of heat.

"fuck," tonowari hissed, the crude word foreign on his tongue, dragged out by instinct. "so tight. even after i just bred you, your cunt grips me like it never wants to let go."

his hips snapped forward, setting a punishing rhythm immediately. each thrust drove the air from your lungs, drove him impossibly deep, the angle letting him reach places that made stars burst behind your eyes. the wet sounds of your coupling filled the marui, obscene and primal.

"you were made for this," he growled, his grip on your hip bruising as he used it for leverage, pulling you back onto his cock with each forward drive. "made to take your olo'eyktan's cock. to be bred by me. look how your little body stretches around me."

you could not look, could barely think, but you felt it. felt the impossible girth of him forcing your walls apart, felt the way your entrance strained around his thickness. from this position, the size difference was even more pronounced, his body covering yours completely, his hands so large they nearly spanned your entire waist, his cock so thick you did not understand how your body accommodated it.

but it did. it always did.

"tonowari," you sobbed, your fingers clawing at the mat beneath you, searching for purchase as he fucked into you with increasing desperation. "it is too much, i cannot-"

"you can," he cut you off, leaning over you, his chest pressing against your back, his weight pinning you down as he continued to drive into you. "you will. your body knows what to do. knows how to take me. how to milk every drop of seed from my cock."

his teeth found your shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave marks, and you keened at the sharp pleasure-pain of it. he was losing himself to the heat completely now, all pretense of control abandoned. this was pure instinct, pure need, the drive to breed, to claim, to ensure his mate carried his child.

"feel how deep i am," he panted against your skin, one hand sliding beneath you to press against your lower belly. "feel how i fill you. how your body makes room for me even though i am too big. even though i should not fit."

you felt it. felt the pressure of his hand from the outside and his cock from within, felt the way your belly yielded to accommodate him. the sensation was overwhelming, impossible to process, and yet your body responded with a fresh wave of slick, easing his way despite the soreness.

"that's it," tonowari praised, his voice a dark rumble.

his pace increased, each thrust harder than the last, and you could feel him swelling inside you again. already. the knot was forming faster this time, the heat driving his body to complete the breeding as quickly as possible.

"going to knot you again," he warned, though there was nothing you could do about it, nowhere you could go with his weight pinning you down and his cock buried inside you. "going to lock us together and fill you even fuller than before. going to pump so much seed into you that your belly swells with it."

"please," you whimpered, though you did not know what you were begging for. for him to stop? to continue? for relief from the overwhelming sensation or for more of it?

"please what?" tonowari demanded, his hips grinding against yours, the base of his cock catching on your entrance with each thrust. "please breed you? please knot you? please make sure you carry my child?"

"yes," you gasped, because it was all true, all of it. "yes, all of it, please.."

he groaned, the sound echoing through the marui as his knot caught, swelling rapidly until it locked you together once more. the stretch was agonising and perfect all at once, your body protesting and accepting simultaneously. you felt impossibly full, stretched beyond what should be possible, and then-

he came.

the first pulse of seed was like a flood, hot and thick, filling you instantly. but he did not stop. could not stop. the heat drove him to empty himself completely, pulse after pulse of cum pumping into you with a force that made your belly cramp. you could feel it, feel the sheer volume of it, feel the way it had nowhere to go with his knot sealing you shut.

"take it," tonowari growled, his hips jerking with each pulse, grinding his knot against your entrance. "take all of it. every drop. let it fill you until you cannot hold anymore."

your belly was swelling again, distending with the sheer amount of seed he was pumping into you. you looked down, watched in dazed fascination as your stomach rounded, the skin stretching taut. it should not be possible. no body should be able to produce this much, and yet the heat made it so, made his body determined to ensure conception through sheer volume alone.

"look at you," tonowari breathed, his hand sliding around to cup your cunt. "look how well you take me. how your body accepts everything i give you."

you could not respond, could only whimper as another pulse of cum filled you. the pressure was intense and yet beneath it was a strange satisfaction, a primal contentment at being so thoroughly claimed and bred.

tonowari shifted slightly, rolling you both onto your sides again, his knot still locked firmly inside you, his cock still pulsing weakly. his hand held your stomach, possessive and reverent, feeling the evidence of his claim.

"this is only the second time," he murmured against your neck, his voice still rough with heat despite the temporary satisfaction. "i will take you many more times before the heat breaks."

you shivered, exhausted and overwhelmed, your body already dreading and craving the next round in equal measure. the heat would not be satisfied easily. it would drive him to take you again and again, each time as intense as the last, until his instincts were finally appeased.

and you would take it gladly, would take everything he gave you. because he was your mate, and this was what the bond demanded.

༻༺

hi!! i had great fun writing this one, hope you guys enjoy it because i know i did!!

You’d had your fair share of lovers and experienced more than a good deal of fun. With everyone in the past, climax came the same way, every single time: clitoral stimulation, and clitoral stimulation alone.

By this point in your life, you suspected your g-spot was probably just a figment of your imagination, no more real than Atlantis, Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy.

That was, until, you met your boyfriend, Simon.

And things had only been official for a week.

You and him had fooled around a handful of times—made love, as he called it, and kissed and cuddled and occasionally dry-humped until the two of you were both panting, groaning messes—but all of this was new. Simon was still learning you, as you were him.

He finished between your tits. You came on his tongue. He fingered you to the point of tears, and you learned how to touch his sac just right to get him to blow his load in seconds. On this night in particular, you were fucking missionary, and holding hands while you did.

Lovesick puppies, Price would say. Neither one of you seemed able to unglue your lips or unlace your fingers or keep your hips from colliding again and again and again in frantic search of the other’s furthest depths. You were perfectly wrapped up, with no desire to move

Except, you needed to reach down between your bodies to actually get off. That was a minor detail.

You didn’t think the man above you would mind if you moved your touch from his, but then that grip tightened the second you tried pulling away.

“Keep it there, lovie. Like holding you like this,” he said.

You enjoyed it, too. It was intimate, and sweet, and with your hands pinned on either side of you, locked securely in his, you felt safe. You just couldn’t finish.

“But I…I need to come,” you whispered against him. You rolled your hips and felt his cock twitch inside you.

Simon grunted, then swallowed. Nodded slowly.

“Yeah. I’ll get you there. Feel this?”

He slid deeper for emphasis.

You didn’t.

You rarely did, or at least not in the way you figured you were supposed to get when something pressed there.

“I think…sort of, yeah,” you hedged your answer.

Don’t bruise his ego, don’t hurt his feelings.

This is all on me, Si, I promise it’s not you.

Cutting in over your thoughts, Simon moved swiftly. Took your hips in his big, strong hands, lifted up, and plunged his cock to the hilt. The girth of him was enough to knock the air out of your lungs, and you felt your walls stretch, sting, and weep sweet liquid warmth around that intrusion. You moaned.

“Better?” The man’s question was simple.

Before you could answer it, he was sliding a pillow underneath your backside. Sawing his long, thick, leaking cock in and out of you, he reached a new spot.

You made a face, feeling good from that but…strange.

Simon snatched your hands up again and planted them beside your head on the mattress. He thrusted steadily. He peppered kisses all over your face and your neck while the bed frame squeaked in time, and you had to dig your heels into his ass to ground yourself.

“Talk to me, baby. Can’t make it better if you don’t.”

“I—I know, I just can’t—”

At the same time, Simon tilted your hips slightly once more, and the tip of his cock kissed something soft and wet and dizzyingly pleasurable inside your body. A loud, embarrassing cry slipped out between your lips.

You wanted to clap a hand over your mouth, hating the way you’d just sounded, but your fingers were stuck to his. Simon grinned down at you, toothy and approving.

“Can’t do what, now, darlin’?”

The warm, bulbous head of his cock had found its mark, and he just kept prodding that spot, like it entertained him to do it. The fingers laced between your own constricted their grip even more, and Simon leaned down to kiss you while his cock carved a mind-numbing path. In between kisses, he praised you.

“That’s my girl. She’s likin’ it now, isn’t she?”

“Feel good when my cock hits that spot?”

“Your pussy’s fuckin’ soakin’ me, baby.”

But still, somehow, it just wasn’t quite enough.

Maybe you’d never found that place after all.

This was where most men gave up—after a few good minutes of fucking when their balls had gotten to be as swollen as stones and their bodies were aching for release, more often than not, they’d go off chasing their own high. That was when you usually started rubbing your clit, or waited for your partner to finish so they could get you off with their tongue or something.

You hated to feel like a burden, and you really despised the thought of being the reason your sweet Simon couldn’t get to orgasm. So you squirmed again.

Straining to reach down, to try and touch yourself, you whimpered, “Si, please, it just—it takes me too long—”

“Good thing we’ve got all night,” Simon replied bluntly.

Then, once again, he twisted your bodies like you were as soft and malleable as putty in his hands, and this time, he hitched one of your legs around his hip, high.

With one slow-rolling thrust and an audibly squelching sound, Simon’s cock stretched your hole to maximum capacity, and then a little more. Your juices leaked down his shaft, aiding the slide, and he stabbed in a few shallow strokes. Probing. Testing the waters, as if he were trying to find something hidden inside you.

You sucked in a breath. Simon’s gaze slid to yours.

“Let’s find that precious spot, lovie. Easy, now.”

Gently coaxing your body open, he drove a slow, measured pace. He split your cunt like it was the easiest thing in the world, delving within your wet, velvety heat to tease every contour and crevice of your pussy. His tip leaked precome. His balls glistened in your arousal and landed with the gentlest plap, plap, plaps while he explored your insides with his member.

It really was as simple as that, nothing more and nothing less than poking around. Having patience.

“S-Si,” you stammered, nose wrinkling slightly.

“What’s’at, baby? Got something to tell me?”

Like a teacher, almost, he pressed for more.

Like his cock was showing you something new about your body but he needed your help to tell him just how and where to find it, Simon took care to be kind. He smoothed a hand over the crown of your head and then cradled the back of it, one massive set of fingers splayed out against your skull and engulfing it wholly.

He still held onto your other hand tight.

Your cunt pulsed. Ached. Fluttered around him.

Stuffed to the brim, you had only to feel, and murmur:

“Higher.”

“Higher?”

“Um, to the…to the left.”

Simon tilted his hips left.

Yes.

That was just it. So close.

Almost…

Or, maybe…

“Maybe it just…isn’t there,” you huffed out, deflating. “Know you’re trying so hard, baby, but I think I can’t—”

Then Simon hit the same spot as before, only higher.

Just like you’d told him: to the left, and then…

“Oh, fuck,” you cursed. “Oh, fuckfuckfuck.”

The grin above you stretched even wider.

“There, lovie?” Simon goaded you on.

“Right there.” You nodded furiously.

A wave of pleasure swept through your limbs, from your core down to the soles of your feet. Your toes curled, and you squeaked, feeling Simon’s cock graze that soft, spongy, sensitive place—except he’d pushed in deeper. The sensation made your eyes roll back.

“Little dove doesn’t mind my pokin’ after all, huh?” Simon’s words were a tease, but you heard a strain in them, too. The second you were caught in the throes of real pleasure, your cunt must’ve clamped like a vice.

“Keep…keep pokin’, Si,” you choked out. “I like it.”

Your lover kept at it—poking from the inside.

The routine almost felt like losing your virginity all over again, together. Simon cradled your head, told you how good you were doing, how sweet you were for him, and you whimpered under his hold. Squirmed and clung to him for dear life, then kissed him feverishly.

Simon’s mouth was hard and hungry, his thrusts deep. His cock throbbed within the wet, clenching confines of your pussy, and he seemed to be going wild at the feeling. With the idea that he was driving you wild, too.

You realized as much when he whispered it to you.

“Could lose my bloody mind when you’re like this—” Another sharp, labored breath. Another shudder passing through his body when your insides squeezed. “—so why didn’t you talk? Ask for what you needed?”

Your voice was small. “Didn’t wanna be a bother.”

Your eyes were locked with Simon’s, and in his irises, you caught a shade of concern. It flared, hot as anything, then mixed with disbelief. Disappointment.

“Don’t be angry, Si, I—” you started, hurried.

“‘M’not.” Simon blinked. But he gritted his teeth, and he withdrew his cock until the head was bumping and teasing between your folds, then he shook his head. “It’s those fuckin’ pricks who should be sorry, yeah?”

The ones that you’d been with before.

You wanted to protest, insist that you were at least partly to blame, but you never got the opportunity.

Simon was back inside you in a blink.

Hitting that same spot again, and again, and again.

He grinned, the tic of a muscle in his jaw telling you that he was less amused this time around, but proud.

Vindicated.

“Well. It’s not like they’re ever gettin’ a chance in between these pretty legs again, are they, lovie?”

You nodded in agreement.

You smiled back at him, only to have that gentle curve falter a little when you felt Simon’s thrusts accelerate.

“Only thing that’s gonna touch this spot other’n my cock is my seed, splatterin’ all over your walls, right?”

When he gave a playful nip to your lower lip and squeezed your hand tighter, you knew that he meant it. The man had plunged so deep inside you that his pubic bone was now grinding against your skin, and the rest of him was buried. His balls, all full and warm and heavy with his release, rested firmly in your cleft.

And the steady, measured strokes of his cock landed with near-surgical precision on the G-spot you’d convinced yourself up until tonight didn’t exist.

Simon beamed. You were overcome with ecstasy.

“This it, lovie? This spot right ‘ere?” he cooed.

His cock bobbed against that gummy and indescribably dizzying place, causing your last moan to morph into something more akin to a shriek.

You nodded your head: “Y-Yes. Yes.”

“Feel good when I hit it?”

“Fucking perfect, Si.”

You sighed when the man bottomed out for what felt like the millionth time, and the pleasure never waned. He felt just as good now as he did when he first got in.

“Yeah? Gonna come on my cock then, pretty girl?”

“Yeah. I’m— I’m so close.”

“Go on then, love.”

And, shortly, you did.

Maybe three, four, five more stabs of his cock to your most precious, intimate place and you were unraveling beneath him, stars bursting in your line of vision. It seemed dramatic to say, but that was really what it came to—your mouth hanging open, eyes wide, gaze peering into Simon’s while he fucked you through the most intense orgasm of your life. You clung to him, and your walls spasmed again and again and again, milking the man’s release in the next few seconds. Simon shuddered and grit his teeth as he unloaded a thick, gooey load inside, dousing that spongy, body-numbing spot and then some. The two of you moaned in unison.

Your body was boneless, your head a hazy mess.

It took several seconds for your conscious mind to come back online fully, and when it did, Simon was leaning in again and planting kisses along your face.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, breath fanning hot across your skin. “My perfect girl. You did so good.”

You smiled and caught his mouth for a proper kiss.

“Thank you,” you murmured against him.

Then Simon squeezed your hand—the one he’d been holding this entire time. He lifted it gently, like he was afraid too rough of a movement might split you in two.

He turned your wrist and kissed the back of your hand, eyes locked on yours and expression soft while he did.

getting wetter the longer he looked at you and he hadn’t even done anything yet. couldn’t even see your clit like this, just a glimpse of your inner folds, of your little hole as it tensed and then relaxed repeatedly. but the anticipation was enough, the scrutiny was enough. to make your belly warm, to cause the desire to spiral and tug.

jack had finally spread your pussy open with his fingers, his thumbs on either side, and exposed your clit, not even puffy, just beginning to peek out behind its hood. shy and barely awake like the rest of you, a little dazed as you came out of an impromptu nap. linen-creases on your arms and legs, body still warm with sleep. he exposed your hole too, the skin stretching taut and shiny with how wet you had become.

jack made a soft cooing noise, his breath ghosting over your clit and making your hips jump a little off the bed.

‘so pretty,’ he said, his eyes heavy between your legs, dragging over every inch as the heat in your cheeks suffused down your neck and your chest, blooming in your nipples, your mouth dropping open to suck in much needed air. ‘my baby’s pretty little pussy.’

you let slip a noise when he pressed a closed-mouth kiss to your mound, almost chaste in the same way he would often kiss the top of your head. close enough to your clit that it felt like a missing limb, something he was doing to deliberately tease you. he gave you another kiss and your belly twitched.

‘daddy just needs to make sure there’s nothing wrong with his little girl,’ he said, ‘gotta check her pretty pussy from the inside.’

and then jack had slipped his entire thumb inside your cunt and dragged the pad of it along your upper wall, right below your pubic bone.

‘nggngg—,’ you couldn’t help but moan, eyelashes fluttering, an unintelligible not-word from deep inside your throat. his big thumb felt particularly massive today, dipping in again and rubbing that perfect spot that always made you dizzy.

jack hummed in faux-concern. ‘so tight and wet around my finger, baby. you feeling alright?’

you looked away from the amused glint in his eyes, thought the embarrassment might burn right through you. so attuned to jack and the pleasure he gave you, that he barely had to look or touch you and your cunt was dripping, more than ready to take him inside.

your hole twitched around nothing as he slipped his thumb out, moving it over your clit, softly petting. your hips jumped again.

‘so sensitive too,’ jack said, lightly clicking his tongue. ‘daddy might have to bring you to work with him, baby, take a closer look at you.’

a vision of you completely naked in stirrups while jack looked deep inside your cunt with a speculum flashed in front of your eyes, and the noise you made was so high it couldn’t be classified as anything other than a desperate whine.

he huffed a quiet laugh that made you burn hotter. ‘yeah, you like that idea? being daddy’s perfect patient?’

you couldn’t look at him but you could nod your head, so you did, your hair sliding against the sheets.

jack began to slowly circle your clit with his thumb. ‘daddy’s gonna spread you out on his table and inspect every inch of you, baby. gotta take a look at all your pretty holes to make sure my little girl is exactly as soft and wet as she should be.’

oh my god. you squeezed your eyes shut.

he kept his thumb on your clit and slipped inside two fingers. your mouth opened, a shaky little gasp escaping, as he stretched you to the base of his knuckles.

‘think i'll start with this one, make it come all over my hand,’ jack said and started to undulate his fingers, pressing into that spot under your pubic bone again and again.

it was deliciously good and you whined, knees lowering so you could plant your feet and rock into it, increasing the pressure of his fingers, the angle they fucked in and out of you.

‘that’s it, baby, c’mon,’ jack said, keeping the same measured and devastating pace, ‘give daddy an orgasm before he goes off to work.’

you moaned, the sloppy sound of your cunt getting fingered so loud and obscene that your neighbors could probably hear it through the window.

‘harder, please,’ you begged him.

jack pressed an open-mouth kiss to the inside of your knee, and set his left hand onto the bed next to your hip, giving himself better leverage to increase the intensity of his fingers, the sloshing sound that was coming from deep inside your cunt.

‘good girl, baby, good girl,’ he encouraged, ‘come all over the bed for me. come on, i know you can do it.’

you grasped blindly at jack's shoulder, pleasure mounting so fast it frightened you a little, and snagged your fingers on the edge of his shirt collar, eyes locked onto his. the pressure behind your pubic bone near unbearable as he milked your g-spot, legs shaking.

‘do it cause i told you to. come on, baby girl, soak my fucking hand.’

‘oh,’ you squeaked, holding onto jack for dear life as your back bowed off the mattress, eyes wide and mouth working around a silent scream. your belly spasmed, cunt suddenly gushing around jack’s fingers as you squirted all over the bed.

‘that's my fucking girl,’ jack half-said, half-laughed, sounding utterly delighted by the way you had just ruined all his clean sheets. ‘knew you could fucking do it.’

he leaned down to press sweet, wet kisses to your forehead, humming against your skin, only slipping his fingers out of your pussy once you had stopped clenching around them. you were still holding onto his shirt collar, breathing hard, the lower half of your body experiencing a certain bonelessness, comparable to that of melted wax.

‘gonna take a shower and go to work, okay?’ jack murmured, after a minute of this, kissing your cheekbone a few more times and then your mouth. his stubble scratched a little as his lips moved against yours.

‘okay,’ you said, breathless, when he pulled back, letting go of his shirt, your hand dropping to the bed with a quiet thump.

‘please eat while i’m gone,’ jack said over his shoulder, fitting his arms into his crutches. ‘there’s leftovers in the fridge.’

‘okay,’ you repeated.

you promptly rolled over and fell right back asleep.

*

Jack sighs happily, as if he’s already sated with the glimmer of your teeth and your honeyed little hum of, “hi dad…” Your socked feet are hung off the table, kicking up like a joy-strewn puppy attempting to behave and not yet pounce on him. Jack is immediately permitted to swallow his groan, his cock already starting its swell in the groin of his black scrubs. 

“Hey, sugar,” he smiles back, the creases by his mouth gleaming in the white-hot lighting. He steps close and slips right into the scene, his brows furrowing in faux concern about what’s ‘written’ on the chart before he meets your eyes again.

“See here you’re having some pain in your privates?” His finger taps at the folder twice before gently setting it down on the counter. “Mind if the doctor takes a look?” You nod, shifting your thighs together and suckling on your bottom lip, succumbing to his request and spreading them. 

Jack is unable to suppress his smirk, tugging up the scrub fabric on his thighs to properly sit on the stool in an examination. Your slick imbues freshly through your underwear, and he nearly shivers with anticipation before exhaling slowly. His thick palms press at your knees, shoving them more apart, and you hike the hospital gown up enough to expose the sliver of skin just above your waistband.  

You’re irrevocably swollen – Jack can already tell from how see-through your panties are; the translucence from the seeping slick now outlines your tender, tumid folds, and he begins to trace them with the lightest touch, noting the contour of your puffy pussy lips and how your pleading clit is nudging through the thin fabric. Another groan is subdued in his throat when he conceals his desire within his ‘Doctor Dad’ facade, and he slowly peels the sticky fabric off of your cunt. Strings of your arousal break with distance, and you begin to leak on the paper beneath you. You’re so reddened, and Jack bites back a beratement – he can already tell that you’ve been rubbing the night away while he’s been working – although for now, he feigns indifference.

“Okay, baby, I see you’re having some swelling and tenderness. I’ll need to check everything carefully.” You nod, listening to his clinical request as you watch your Dad snap on sterilizing gloves, whimpering when his thick digits flex beneath the material. “I’m going to press gently to access the inflammation. Tell me if it hurts too much, alright?” 

His hand rubs at your inner thigh in a poor play of professional detachment. “Deep breath for me now.” 

Your hips twitch involuntarily with your stifled breath, and Jack just drinks in each little reaction of your body. His eyes are dimming now, the hazel spurred within them now staining with something darker. Something languorous.

A blue-veiled index finger begins to prod the swell of your slick pussy, and immediately, you squirm and choke down whines of pleasure. His lips quirk up when a fat drool glistens out of your cunt.

“That’s it. Just relax for me, little one... Know it must feel strange with Dad touchin’ you like this…” Jack chuckles, and it’s playfully light, as if he’s mending a scraped knee or bandaging a papercut, rather than probing himself at your drippy little pussy. You try, and wholly fail, to not rut on his hand when he firmly presses his thumb on your pulsing, gooey bud – you cant your hips up eagerly in an involuntary response. 

His brows raise in that subtle, parental admonishment, clicking his tongue to talk. “Tch. Baby... I need you to stay still so I can get a good look.” The sensation on your clit slows to a soft and deliberate taunt, a testament to the former pressure he’d just tormented your body with.

“‘m sorry, dad.” You mumble, biting hard onto your lip. He retracts unreservedly then, adjusting his gloves in the respectable role of your current physician.

It’s impossible for Jack to remain stoic when his own face is flush with want. His groin aches, and his cock is evidently bobbing through the strained material of his scrubs. He finds himself leaning in between your quivering thighs, attempting a steadying breath. The role is crumbling; he can’t help it — he’s more Dad than Doctor when his face dips in, his nose brushing the inside of your thigh to inhale the scent. Your skin is sugared from body lotion, warm and salted from the night, and infused with the sweet aroma of what drips out of your swollen little pussy. He sighs, sitting up to conjure up some composure, and slips a gloved hand against your cunt. 

“Okay, sugarplum. You’re definitely inflamed.” He nods once to himself before parting your inner folds to expose the glistening that clings to them. He can see your hole undulate at his touch, clenching on nothing before more translucent want weeps out of you.

“Does it hurt when I do this?” He asks, playing into the part of what’s purely diagnostic. He applies the pressure of his two digits right against where your entrance quivers to be filled, and instantly, your throat cracks out a whine. Jack ignores it, pressing more pronouncedly onto your hole. “What about here, honey?” He ponders out loud, before shoving his gloved index finger past the ring of muscle, pushing all the way inside you, scraping walls with an audible squelch. You let out a pitched gasp, nearly a moan, and much too loud for the exam room. He prods into the tender flesh of your tightening cunt, and the pressure has your back already arching and eyes clenching shut. The paper crinkles under your writhing body as you ineptly simulate the ingenuousness you’re supposed to exude.

“ahh–! dad.. dad, that.. feels rea- really funny,” you whine out, whilst your doctor remains neutral. He’s too fucking good at this, feigning it all in this fantasy of provoking pleasure in a poorly oblivious and inexperienced ‘patient.’ You want to kick his ribs, jam your heel in an effort to bare his skin and rip off those godforsaken black scrubs, to just have his swelling dick deep inside you already. But you don’t. You just worry at your lip, peering down at your Dad’s forehead lines and how they scrunch in his rapt perusal of your pussy. You stare at the silvered curls that streak against your thighs, softly sweeping over your skin and leaving you to shiver in their wake.

“Funny, huh? Hmmm…” His voice is heavier now, and the breaths that exude from his lungs are hot and curling over your clit in a whisper of sensation. Your hole flutters in a relentless, sloppy throb.

“Does it feel funny when I do this?" His finger inside mushes itself right inside that soft, sponged spot inside, and this time, you do react, in a roused, surprised moan. Your hips buck, and you shudder, half slouched on the wall against the exam table. Jack’s mouth is only mere inches from your warmth now, and it takes everything in him not to salivate and suck on your turgid, needy bud. You smell like sweet musk, heat and heaven, and he parts his lips to aspirate the flavor, swallowing it thickly before forcing out another fallacious assessment with a frown. 

“Oh. That doesn’t feel any better, does it, pumpkin?” He sighs, his brows furrowing in a contrived look of bewilderment – he acts as if you’re in physical, unexplainable pain, rather than sensitivity from hammering arousal and your need for release. But Jack can’t quite angle his wrist right with enough success to ram in relentless thrusts, and he pulls out and away as a result. You whine with sheer impotence and anguish.

“Let’s try something else. Lay back, honey. Let Dad take another look.” 

You’re too distraught with the discomfort to discern Jack’s feverish desire. This innocent doctor-patient act you both are playing at has his fat dick pulsing, his breaths too fast, and he has to force himself to maintain configuration. Maybe he’ll just cum contactless. It already feels like he will. He’s dribbling precum already, and his hips twitch every so often to spurt and slicken his boxers. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. He’s not sure that they’ll ever be a last – his kid tests him and his virility more often than he should allow. 

Jack’s teeth spear into his bottom lip, watching you obey doctor’s orders so willingly. You reposition yourself to properly lie vertically on the table, your tiny cunt smearing on the paper sheet as Jack rounds the side on the stool. Your knees are bent past the edge, feet hung once again, before he’s racking a leg over his shoulder to properly spread and palm your heat. His free hand presses on the plush of your inner thigh to keep you splintered open for when he plunges his thick digits back in. And he does, immediately. Before you can seal your legs shut again. Two fingers pry against sloppy petals, and then penetrate inside of you once more. The friction of his finger pads grind incessantly against the sweet spot where you throb, and it draws out a long, tormented moan from you.

“Ah..” He smiles in faux guile at the diagnostic discovery, “I think I know what the problem is – My baby’s pussy is empty. Poor little cunt.. that’s why you’re all puffy, isn’t it, honey?”

You whimper and nod discordantly, babbling out a, “yes, doctor,” that makes Jack’s hips twitch as the knot in his gut stutters a sharp spike of arousal down through his spine.

“That’s right. Doctor Dad's gonna fix you right up.” Jack promises, but the pressure of his digits inside remains too slow.

You still gush, squelching out when you push your cunt up on his knuckles, moaning an implore of, “dada– please dada, more…”

Jack groans gutterrally at your prattish want, pressing kisses to the side of your knee that’s slung over him. “Yeah. That’s right baby, it’s Dada. And Dada’s just trying to make you feel better. Although…” He fucks his fingers deeper against your fleshy, inner walls, just to accentuate his unsound words, “I’ve never had a patient react quite like this before.”

“s’ ‘cause ‘m your daughter,” you murmur back, and your shameless, immediate claim nearly makes him cum untouched in his scrubs.

“Fuck… Yeah. I know.” Jack grits out with fierce need, his breath ragged, and his grasp on your thigh grows white-knuckle taut for a moment before relaxing again. “Can’t let my baby hurt, though.” 

You’re a prowess for fucking ruining him. You always do. And in reply, he mars you with two fingers deep within the confines of your body. His exhale is dizzy, his eyes hazed, and he heeds all he can muster to subsist through the scene. 

Your squishy pussy slips out more arousal, puddling up the paper below the cleft of your ass. When Jack speaks again, it's only hushed in condescension – all saccharine and succulent, just to make you snivel. 

“Ohh, look at you. Baby’s getting allll fussy, over just a little checkup, huh? Just so runny down here...” The words melt off his tongue and settle hot in your spine. Jack fucks his fingers harder, before popping them halfway out, just to see your poor, inflamed little pussy flow out arousal. “Aw. Look at her. Makin’ a little river for Dad.”

You start thrashing when he doesn’t press himself back in, beginning to purposefully and petulantly whine aloud. Jack watches as you attempt to toss – your thighs only tremble in his asundering grip, but the calf crutched over his shoulder shudders against his jaw, shoving flush with his face in defiance. His teeth sink in before his mind can interject. And it works. It does halt your twisting muscles.

You gasp, pacified immediately from the pain as you’re left panting. Jack doesn’t shred through skin – it's only just enough to stifle your squirms, leaving your lower leg indented with a bite pooling with saliva. His laugh is bitter, bred straight from tutelarous, torturous depths, sated from your stasis and sweet, shuddering cunt. It’s an unbidden break in the role, clearly, but he’s able to curb it and recompose himself. He kisses the faceted mark before a grin furls onto his lips. 

“Poor little one. Can’t even stay still for her exam.”

You don’t respond; you can’t, really. You just turn your head away as a pout blooms on your face in a biddable, silent plea. Jack clears his throat, pinching at your inner thigh with his free hand.

“I see. That’s not what a good little baby does, you know… You have to try to hold steady for the doctor, or I’m not going to be able to make you stop hurting… Do you understand that, sweetheart? Can you listen? Stay still for Dad?”

Your mouth stays silent in an attempt to concentrate on remaining stationary, but your pussy whines in squelches when he twists his wrist, angling it a little deeper once again. It’s not until you experience the icy sensation of metal, softly pressed against your pleading clit, that a sound, a gasp, is wrung high and raw from your throat.

“Such a reactive little patient.” Jack’s smirks, positioning the stethoscope more firmly as your pulse hammers through your wet, wanting flesh. “Making such a mess of my equipment, baby… but Daddy has to listen; your rhythm is accelerated.”

You mewl, unmoving, even as his fingers frot knuckle-deep inside, gently swirling the diaphragm through the slick that’s soaked and sticky on your bulb of nerves.

“Babycunt’s all throbby… She’s beating so hard.” 

Jack sighs with furrowed brows and faux apprehension; Your ‘ailment’ is not yet cured by the remedy of his hands. Of course, Jack also knows that he hasn’t given you enough pressure or pace to cum –  the torment of your pleasure is a part of the appeal and the scene. And so his digits pause inside you once more and press hard into your plush spot while you fight the need to writhe. “Such excessive sensitivity. I think… I think you need a different course of treatment, little one.”

He sighs before he stops all the stimulation of your pussy. Fingers force themselves out of your stretched, seeping hole; the stethoscope is withdrawn and whisked away, and you cry in helplessness and denial. 

Jack stands with a groan, his good knee popping at the joint while his prosthetic adjusts to position. He grins as you weep, watching you grind on the paper, mindless and crying. His hands slip beneath the hospital gown, below your arms, as he hikes you higher off the table, hips raised in the air for him to properly scale himself against your lain form.

His girthy thighs ascend from his scrubs as he sheds them off just enough to expose his hardened, seeking cock. A fat dribble of precum weeps out when it’s exposed to air, and Jack grunts, squeezing his length while his other hand parts your thighs, exposing your already clenching pussy. 

“Dad’s gonna give you the right medicine now, okay, baby?” Jack doesn’t wait for you to respond – you only convey yourself with a baby whine, anyway. He just drags your hips to his, notching his puffy, pleading tip against your slit.

“Shh… shh, honey.” He rasps in a whisper, entirely enthralled by the way your eager cunt is already attempting to clench on his cockhead. “S’just a special treatment, okay? Take it like a good baby.” 

The first push makes you cry out, your hole so hot and puffy, stretching out on his fat dick while he just coos to you. “Fuck… there she is. Jus’ a little stretch — you’re okay, you got it.”

He slots the thick, aching length of him further inside your plush, clamping walls, even as you whimper softly. “Gonna get you all better, kid.” 

With a squelching thrust, more of your slick sputters out of your creamy cunt, suckling your Dad further inside. Jack grunts, his hands pressing to your hips, holding you still as he pumps himself deeper, prodding into the walls of your warmth. His lips are parted, eyes closed and biceps tense as he holds back the sharp curls of heat that spike in his groin. His baby just feels so good. Pulsing and squeezing him, and he bucks up once more, pulling your pelvis tight against his. His swollen cockhead buries itself right against the spongy spot inside you, your palpitating, quivering pussy beating right through the veins that bulge through his dick. You watch Jack bite his bottom lip, his mouth dipping into those familiar lines around the silver bristles when he frowns in pleasure – entirely enraptured in the way you ripple around him. A hand of his shoots down to steel himself, pinching at the base of his cock to calm the orgasm that simmers inside his gut. 

You listen to your Dad pant, before he’s giving an exploratory roll into the tightening clutch of his baby, kissing up at your cervix, and making you gasp out with the full sensation. 

His thumb finally makes contact with your sticky, exposed bundle of nerves, which is already engorged from so much friction and firmed up with blood flow. Jack rubs it in lavishing glides, in tandem with each shivering thrust that he makes inside you, and the heat in your belly sunders. Your orgasm hits in a hot, dizzying surge of seeping arousal. You gush from around him with a gasp, your body nearly convulsing with the clench of your pussy. Your puffy walls writhe against the thick ridges of him, cumming on your Dad’s length in extended whimpers of ravishing pleasure. 

“Oh, looook at you.” Jack chuckles gruffly, “Cumming so sweetly for the doctor.” You can hear the infantilizing tone of his voice, and it only makes your cunt shudder harder in a constricting hold on him. “Mmh– I know… Didn’t know a checkup would feel this good, did you, honey?” 

You respond with a shake of your head, or more of a jerky sway, accompanied by a dazed look in your eye when you look up at your Dad. He moans above you, at the scent and sight of him sinking himself further in and out of your pussy, watching his baby’s cunt swallow the slick, thick base of him. 

“That’s it– fuck. Dad’s just gotta fill you with your medicine, baby.” Jack slots himself entirely inside, for the final time, flush with your hips, slumped and bent over your body to press against your chest. He feels the throbbing, sticky sheath of you on the swell of his cock, gripped and twitching tight. His free hand clasps, clenched on the side of the exam table as he ruts needily inside your tender, twitching little cunt before stilling. Jack cums with a sharp, hoarse groan, flooding you in scorched surges of warmth. His orgasm nearly feels endless as he seeps into you, filling his baby, and fucking himself deeper when spurt after spurt shoots through his slit and thickly stuffs your puffy hole. He doesn’t stop; not until there’s a foamed ring of your cum and his semen coating the base of his cock where the silver hair curls and prickles at his groin. 

The exam room is silent except for shared pants and pulses. Jack peers down at you only after the post-sex moments stretch long, and he’s purely endeared by how thoroughly and undoubtedly wrecked you are – cheeks seeped wet, lips parted and glistening saliva down your chin. You’re fiercely clamped on his now slackening cock as if he belongs confined inside of you – and yet, you both are eerily cognizant that the truth is that he does; You’re inexorably, and painfully, aware of your dependence on each other, on the bond that blooms with such inexplicable love. And, of course, the ‘treatment’ of having your Dad spill into your cunt until you’re both trembling and sticky with sweat and cum. 

Your eyes tiredly meet his own – dizzy, dreary, and splashed dark with devotion for his daughter. His lungs stutter with his breaths, but Jack smiles with surfeit, still half bowed over you, chest to chest and snuggling his face into your neck. Your senses are fully saturated with only him. The scent of his cum, his sweat, accompanied by the airy, florality of Hibiclens wash and the bergamot of his cologne that seems to curl itself through it all. 

“thanks f’curing me, dad.. feels so good now.” You declare ditzily, grinning against his mussed tresses, and Jack huffs a spent, sated laugh in response. 

“Mm. Course, baby. You’re always such a sweet, little patient for me,” He slurs back, pressing kisses over your collarbone where the gown has dipped down enough for exposure. Your hand slips into his silver, sweat-damp hair, feeling the curls as he sighs into the sensation, subtly grinding his softening, tender length still inside, just to keep you closer.

You’ll be sore and sticky – and he’ll certainly have to sterilize the room after such an intense exam. But for now, Jack is able to savor this; The besotted touches and shivers from him hauled in your warmth. The afterglowed, winsome whispers under the white fluorescent lights, the flush of your cheeks and the flutters of your lashes – all prior to the sunrise, and another precious, sweet-natured day of loving you.