♥ A married couple's selfship blog! ♥

“And remember, sharp as a knife,” Grimmjow reminds. Of course, he would use a blade as an analogy. You roll your eyes at him, the bratty action being rewarded with a slap on your butt.

“How am I meant to keep your liner straight if you do that?” You snap. Grimmjow rolls his hips and your anger melts as the tip of his dick rubs against your slit through the fabric. One large hand wraps around your wrist, the blue pencil almost falling from your limp fingers, and pulls it closer to his face. Normal men take the next step in their relationship by giving their girl a key to their car or house. Grimmjow lets demands you do his blue eye makeup. Occasionally he would even draw a white bone on his right jaw. You don’t know what’s hotter, that you can go makeup shopping with your boyfriend and not get ‘yeah, looks great, babe’ mumbles directed more to a phone than you or that your man was comfortable in his masculinity to wear “feminine” things… Never mind, it was watching him beat up some homophobe who thought men wearing makeup is gay.

You take the hint and bring the blue liner back to his eyes, concentrating on making the wing as sharp as possible. Thankfully, Grimmjow lets you concentrate, one hand kneading your butt. One change to an eyeshadow brush to blend everything and dotting some concealer to make everything crisp and you’re done. Leaning back, your eyes flit over your work before deciding it was good enough and reaching for the mirror to show him. You cap the liner and close the eyeshadow palette whilst your boyfriend scrutinises your work. Clearly, it passes the test as Grimmjow flips you onto your back, two hands landing on your hips to pin you down.

“Time to repay you for your work,” Grimmjow purrs. “By ruining your makeup.”

The male grabs both your wrists in one large hand and pins your forearms to the mattress. You mewl and buck your hips into his, needing friction. Grimmjow places a thick thigh in between yours, allowing you to grind your core against him. Your head tips back as a large moan tumbles out of your mouth when Grimmjow brings his head down to nip at your clavicle, leaving a few marks.

“Grimm,” you moan, the male kissing his way down to the hem of your tank top. His sharp teeth graze against your skin, you whimpering at the pleasurable sting, the fabric being pulled down with his head. His other hand comes up, one finger hooking into the material to pull it even further down, the tops of your breasts revealed to him. Your tease of a boyfriend dips down and starts sucking hickeys onto the bared skin. Visible hickeys were hot but hickeys in places only he got to see were even hotter. You keen when you feel Grimmjow move away from you, his large hands grabbing the fabric at the back of his neck and pulling off his shirt. The wicked smirk he gives you tells you he had undressed that way since you found it so hot.

Grimmjow plants a hand by your face, and you realise that you hadn’t moved your hands from where they are stretched above your head. Grimmjow takes one bud into his mouth whilst his other hand cups your right breast, giving it a firm squeeze. You’ve always liked your pleasure with a bit of pain and Grimmjow’s the only person you know who has never hesitated to hurt you. He respected you enough not to treat you as if you were made of glass. His thumb and pointer finger pinch and roll your nipple. Rotating his wrist 90 degrees, Grimmjow pinches again this time playing with the metal bar that runs through the flesh. The tall male pulls back, letting his teeth graze your other nipple as he goes. A jolt of pleasure spears down your spine straight to your cunt making it throb even more. The male chuckles lowly as he watches the way your body writhes on the bed.

“Maybe one day I’ll take you to one of my friends so we can get this one-” he gives your left nipple a mean pinch that was rewarded with a soft squeal from you. “-repierced.” You can’t stop your eyes rolling to the back of your head or your hips bucking up, desperately needing friction on your clit. Grimmjow chuckles, leaning over you to pin your wrists with his non-dominant hand. All the strength of your upper body wasn't enough to dislodge his one arm. It turned you on as much as his statement. Having Grimmjow talk to-about you- like that with such nonchalance, like you were an object for his pleasure, a doll that he gets to decide how they look is humiliating. The sheer dominance of it makes you drip.

“Wouldn’t that mean your friends get to see my tits though?” You cheekily ask. You laugh when you see Grimmjow’s expression drop, not thinking of that.

“No,” Grimmjow growls into your neck. “You are mine. No one is allowed to see you like this.” Grimmjow rocks his hips into yours to reinforce his words, his bulge brushing up against your clit in the most maddening way possible. You sigh before gasping as you feel him biting the side of your neck to mark you as his. You moan at his ownership over you.

“I wonder,” Grimmjow begins, fingertips trailing over your thin tank top, ticking the sensitive skin of your navel that your bunched up shirt now displayed, “if I were to put my hands in your pants, how wet would they be?” You’re tempted to ask him why doesn’t he just find out but since your bratty earlier comment had been let slide, you’re not sure he’ll be as nice a second time so soon. You don't get a chance to answer before two fingers slip into you, curling just the right way to hit that spot deep in your gummy walls that has your thighs reflectively snapping shut.

“Keep them there,” Grimmjow orders, pushing his weight onto your pinned arms for a second before retracting his palm. It wraps around your right thigh, large enough to encompass the flesh as he pushes it from where it’s pressed against your other one and pins it to that mattress. The blue haired male shuffles into the newly made space, forcing your legs to spread even wider to accommodate him. Grimmjow’s other hand makes quick work pulling down your trousers and pants in one go, cruelly leaving them hanging mid-thigh and preventing you from spreading your legs too far. Ever a sadist, your boyfriend kneels on top of the fabric, forcing your hips to stay down. Strong fingers trace up the flesh of your inner thigh the ticklish sensation making you jerk although, between your pinned right leg and thighs, you barely move.

Grimmjow pinches the skin just below where your leg meets your thighs. Your moan is long and high pitched and rewarded with a chuckle. Thankfully, the blue-haired male doesn’t seem to be in a teasing mood, skimming two fingers through your lower lips to collect your slick, circling your clit a few times. He doesn’t give you the chance to make a sound of protest when his fingers leave your bud before plunging two fingers into your pussy.

The fingers wrapped around your thigh clench and you know tomorrow you’ll have a handprint-shaped bruise but you’re too drunk on the pleasure your boyfriend is giving you to say anything. There had been times in that past when you had complained about the marks he had made and in return, Grimmjow had made sure to leave no skin untouched with his fingers and teeth. Grimmjow lets out a deep groan as he feels your walls flutter around his fingers, thick digits spreading in a scissoring motion to stretch you out.

“Fuuck, you should feel yourself. So fucking tight. ‘M gonna fuck you so hard you’re gonna be dripping f’me,” Grimmjow drawls, blue teal eyes focused on where his fingers enter your cunt. Your chest heaves as you pant out, hands clenched into the fabric to prevent disobeying his orders not to move.

“Please, Grimm-” your left thigh burns as the sound of him spanking your flesh echoes off the walls into your ears, thigh noticeably wet from your slick. “-please, sir,” you correct, “please let me touch you.” Grimmjow looks down at you, eyes softening as he takes in your flushed face and heavy lids.

“Such a good girl, doing what I say,” the praise is cooed down at you, Grimmjow’s left hand cups the side of your face. It’s so large that it covers the entire side. “You can touch me.” Grimmjow grants permission, having known you long enough to know when you’re so stimulated you have to hold onto him in some way to ground yourself. Your hands immediately shoot out and grab onto his broad shoulders, the male leaning down slightly to make it easier for you.

“Please, need you. Need in me so badly,” you babble, dark eyes turning glassy.

“But I am in you,” Grimmjow points out, adding a third finger and stretching you out better than your fingers could ever do. Your back arches, breasts pushing out as if as an offering. Grimmjow doesn’t hesitate, his large hand grabbing one.

“Neeeed your cock. Need it- fuck- need it to fill me up. Please fuck me.”

“Such a good girl. Such a pretty baby.” His fingers curl and rub against your gspot. The stimulation leaves you wailing and bucking so very close to the edge. Instead of being pushed into that pleasurable bliss, Grimmjow pulls his fingers out and shoves your hip back down onto the mattress, the hand on your breast pinching your nipple to help edge you away from your orgasm.

You don’t even get to complain or throw up a pout you know would have the tough man caving and doing anything you wanted. Maybe he knew you were about to do it because Grimmjow grabs both your hips and easily flips you over. One of his hands runs up your back, pushing your head down to rest on the pillow. Grimmjow traces your spine down to your hips, holding them to pull them up. Once he had manhandled you into the position he wanted, he wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, pumping his length a few times. The male traces your lower lips with the mushroom head. You wiggle back, trying to get him into you but Grimmjow spanks your ass instead.

Torturously slowly, Grimmjow pushes his dick into you. Once his thighs touch the back of yours, he pauses for you to get used to the stretch. His dick is big, stretching your walls in the best ways, and curves to the left a little. You wait a few heartbeats but become impatient and push back to urge him to start fucking you. Your breath is knocked out of your lungs as Grimmjow pulls back before slamming back into you. There is an animalistic quality to the way he pumps into you, your punched out moans with every thrust accompanied by the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Each thrust in has his cock brushing against your gspot and tearing a high pitched moan from your lips and every time Grimmjow pulls back you whine. You’re drunk on the pleasure only he can provide, hips meeting his to increase your pleasure.

Grimmjow bends down, coming to rest on your back and caging you in. One of Grimmjow’s hands remains wrapped around your left hip, helping you to move in sync with him, the other planting into the pillow by your head. His frame is large and wide enough to cover your whole body, creating a sense of protection and fire to burn through your veins. The new position has him reaching even deeper, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids. You’re barely coherent enough to think how hot his hand looks, veiny and big. You’re definitely not coherent enough to worry what the neighbours will say.

“What a dirty little dumb slut, so desperate to have cock in her she can’t even take her shirt off before being fucked,” Grimmjow degrades, tears pooling in your eyes. Your shirt is a rumpled mess, scrunched up below your breasts, thin straps having fallen down around your biceps and restricting free arm movements. The tears begin to drip down your cheeks, you’re not too sure if it’s from the pleasure or Grimmjow’s cruelty. Probably both. “You’re my little fuck slut, pussy so -fuck- fucking wet, wish I could stay here forever. Best pussy in the entire world,” Grimmjow mumbles. “Tell me you’re my slut.”

You parrot the words into the pillow, unable to lift your head to tell him. The blue-haired male isn’t pleased with it and fists your hair to yank your head up, all the while setting a rough pace with his hips.

“What was that dumb slut? Couldn’t hear ya?”

“I’m yours! Fuck, Grimm, I’m yours,” you sob out, eyes rolling back as Grimmjow relentlessly bullies your cervix with his dick. “I’m your fucking slut. Fuck, so fucking good. God, love your dick in me, wan’ it all the time.”

“Aww, you’re such a sight. Fucked dumb by my cock. My stupid little slut.”

Both your hands are clenched into the sheets, teeth clamping on the pillowcase to try and quieten yourself as the tears keep leaking down your cheeks. Your attempt to muffle yourself is barely successfully, wanton moans still audible. The pleasure is too much and you’ve stopped trying to grind back into him; you submit to his hips thwacking against yours and turn off your brain, handing your pleasure and release over to him. Grimmjow easily picks up on your decision, hand moving from the mattress to curl possessively around your throat. You arch into the palm hoping he’ll grip it harder but instead the blue haired male drags it down between your breasts to slide through the dark curls and to your neglected clit. Two fingertips flick against your nub without finesse- Grimmjow only aiming to have you clamping down on his cock. The additional stimulation is the last push you need and you cum with a loud moan, collapsing onto your front.

It takes a few minutes but you come around, feeling the shallow thrusts of your boyfriend. Grimmjow is still hard, desperate to release but waiting to make sure you’re okay. With effort, you turn your head to the side and glance back at him, giving him a nod. With your permission, Grimmjow shoves you back down, manhandling you so your thighs are splayed on the outside of his muscular ones. A large hand cups the back of your head, pushing it down whilst tilting your hips up. You get the message and curve your back, resting your upper body weight on your hands placed below your shoulders on the mattress. The position strains the muscles in your biceps but you make do, wanting Grimmjow to also orgasm.

The male drills into you, fucking you as if you’re about to leave. Your walls are oversensitive, pulsing around his member as he forces himself deep into you. The wails you let out are loud. To shut you up, Grimmjow forces three fingers in your mouth, thumb curled around your chin to keep them there. As if conditioned, you suck on them, twirling your tongue over the digits filling your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. My little slut. So fucking tight, making me -fuck- feel so good. That’s right clench on me. Clench that messy pussy on me. No one else can get you this wet.” You try to moan in agreement but Grimmjow shoves his fingers further down your throat. Your gags add to the noises being made yet you keep eagerly pushing your head closer to his fingers, fucked dumb wanting to keep gagging on his fingers.

Tears drip from your eyes again, black trails snaking down your face as Grimmjow begins to lose rhythm. He pulls out, hand wrapping around his dick and jerking himself off. You hear a loud groan and then feel his hot cum land on the middle of your back. The fapping noise continues, Grimmjow milking his release. A few weaker spurts land on your ass cheeks before Grimmjow sighs and stops.

Two muscular arms wrap around your shoulders and roll you over into his chest. One remains wrapped around the tops of your shoulders as a pillow the other one moving down your body to scoop up his cum. Grimmjow’s fingers rest on your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly.

“C’mon, princess, be a good cum slut.” You glare at him but obey, parting your lips and taking his fingers into your mouth. You slurp noisily around them and snort when you feel his dick twitch against your thigh. When he deems his fingers cleaned, Grimmjow slides them out and cups your face making sure to keep his wet fingers angled away from your skin. He pulls you into a kiss, this time sweeter than the passionate ones you had experienced earlier. This one he uses to show his love for you. He pulls back, your head following his so as not to break the kiss too soon. The action has the male chuckling and petting your hair.

“Gimme a few seconds,” he tells you. You whine and pout, giving him the best puppy dog eyes but it isn’t enough to sway him. His face softens as he says, “Princess, I need to get a wet cloth to clean you up then we can cuddle. I’ll be one minute tops. Are you okay with that?” You pout but nod, curling into a ball to stay warm when he leaves. A bolt of electricity judders through your pussy when your thighs accidentally clench and another whine falls from your mouth. You blindly reach out and grope for the blue haired male’s pillow, tugging it into your chest and curling around it. Pressing your nose to the material, your boyfriend’s cologne soothes you. No matter if the scene was vanilla or hard, you liked to be held afterwards and reassured you had been good. You also didn’t like laying in your own sweat, the dampness slowly drying and making you feel gross.

True to his word, the Grimmjow doesn't take long, wetting a flannel with warm water and filling a glass with cool water. He brings them both back to the bed, setting them on the bedside table so he can position your body up against the pillows. Grimmjow hands you the water and kneels back onto the bed, scooping the back of your knee in one hand to lift your leg up. The same hands that spanked bruises into your flesh now delicately traces your vagina, taking care not to stimulate the sensitive area any more than needed. Once satisfied, he moves to your ass and cleans the rest of his sperm off of your skin. Finally, with a clean corner, he runs the cloth over your navel, around the back of your neck, under your armpits and along your arms, cleaning the sweat off as much as possible.

When Grimmjow notices you’ve finished the water, he gently takes the glass from you and places it on the table. He pulls you into his chest, pressing kisses along your temple, kissing any skin his lips can reach.

“How ‘ya feelin’?” Grimmjow asks, voice husky in your ear. You giggle.