he/him princess

and with him across the country in new york for a charity event is no exception. the night has been a long one, one with countless speeches and donations, a moment of rest as the attendees are left to mingle with each other for the rest of the night. which left him seated at a round table with humanitarians and celebrities alike as they continue to pull conversation out of him to only get brisk replies or curt nods from him. and it leaves him thinking, regrettably so, that he should've listen to you when you had peeked over his shoulder when he got the invitation to the event that allowed him to bring a plus one. knowing that if you had been here the two of you would've been disappeared, a signature the two of you have adapted since your arrangement started. doing something far more entertaining for the both of you at the hotel that overlooks the city.

right on time his phone dings from where it's placed on the table. wasting no time to pick it up just for another ding to follow shortly after the other. suppressing a small smirk because he already knows it's you, you always have a way of knowing when he's thinking about you.

a hand coming up to fiddle with the inside of his suit coat to pull out his glasses and place them on the bridge of his nose before swiping into the device. large finger pressing on the messaging app and then your contact name just to be met with the breathtaking sight of your breast on his screen. his eyes beyond his glasses widening and mouth falling agap. staring at his screen for far too long, eyes tracing over the plumpness of your breast as his hand's grip around his phone tightens at the thought of how soft and pliable you are.

a group of people at a near by table snaps him out of his trance as their laughs reach every corner of the ballroom. licking his lips and straightening his back, not realizing that he had subconsciously slouched to conceal the beauty on his screen for just himself. his hand coming up to rub at his mouth, looking over both of his shoulders before turning back to ogle at what you sent him, but now pulling the phone closer to his face.

your manicured hand (curtsy of michael's pocket) lightly rest on the side of one of your breast as your arm props them up, making them look somehow more enticing than they already are. biting his lips as his eyes train in on your nipples, your areola's are a darker brown and your nipples are pebbled. the thoughts in his head become raunchier as he envisions if you pinched and rolled them or if you worked yourself up so much that they peaked on their own. either way it has him shifting in the uncomfortable chair and heart racing at the adrenaline from viewing such a thing in public, let alone a charity event. his free hand that lays on his thigh is now pinching at the expensive material of his suit slacks just at the same way he pinches at your nipples when he's turning you into a withering begging mess.

and somehow the fuzziness of the picture makes it better, making it seem more heaven sent. he wishes he could save it like the way you've shown him a few times, but every time he tries something always ends up going wrong, so he settles on waiting when he returns home to have you do so (after ravishing for being such a needy mess for him to send him such a lewd photo just to get his attention) not yet so accustomed to the new technology.

only then does his eyes trail down to the message below the photo ⎯ "missing you :-( come home now" ⎯ chuckling at the message because of course you, only you, the brat that you are would demand for him to come home not even twenty four hours since his departure. but luckily for you the trip isn't a long one and he will be home just in time before tomorrow night.

it takes a few moments for him to type out a response, muttering under his breath as he keeps having to hit the backspace button just to accidentally his the wrong button on the small device. but eventually he gets there ⎯ "Such a demanding request, Pretty. No please?" ⎯ he could be nicer since he's technically the one who made you such a spoiled brat, but he's in the position now to toy with you a little bit.

and as expected his phone rings and he lets it, but instead of placing it back on the table he places it into the pockets inside of his jacket right over his heart. the man beside him speaks up. "hey, mike. you gonna answer that?"

"no, she can wait," he answers coolly before engaging in the quiet discourse at the table. leaving the man confused on whether he referred to his phone a she or the person on the other side calling him as the she.

“Number one rule of anal sex is ‘No rush’,” Mr Miller says to his son. The older man is sitting by your side, his hands gently kneading your naked asscheeks. You hold your breath when he spreads the globes of your flesh and exposes your pussy slit and butthole. Both entrances clench.

You’ve been going out with Jack Miller for almost a year and you know his dad Joel relatively well. He’s single, works as a contractor, loves spending his free time playing the guitar, woodworking, watching old action movies and going to the bar with his brother Tommy. What you haven’t known before tonight is how good his fingers feel when he pushes them into your asshole. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

It all started with an argument. Jack was getting on your nerves, begging you to have anal.

“C’mon, baby,” he said, clinging to you like an annoying lap dog. He had just fingered you as a foreplay so you were sweaty and sleepy, lying naked on his bed. As always it had taken him too long. He had trouble finding the right rhythm and the right angle like he’d never touched your pussy before. While he was fiddling with your lady parts, a slideshow of your favorite porno scenes was playing on a loop behind your tightly closed eyes until finally you reached an underwhelming orgasm.

Probably relying on endorphins clouding your judgement, Jack began his anal pitch. He was promising you heavenly pleasure and an unforgettable experience, mostly turning himself on - a pole was proudly tenting his sweatpants.

Despite the passion in his voice, you were adamant in your decision. You’d never done it with anyone before and doubted that Jack was experienced enough to show you a wonderful world of anal.

“It’s not that simple, Jack! Jerking off to anal porn is not enough! What if you hurt me! You need to educate yourself first. You need to know… stuff.” You pulled the cover over your naked breasts and crossed your arms.

“What stuff?” Jack frowned.

“Exactly!”

You stared at the ceiling, contemplating getting dressed and going home. You were sure he wouldn’t let it go. And he didn’t.

“I’ll be careful, I promise. Just a tip first, you won’t even feel it. I’ll be super slow and then bam! I’m inside.”

BAM! No one in the history of mankind wanted to hear Bam! and their ass in the same sentence. So you shook your head and gave Jack an alternative,

“Why don’t you fuck my pussy?”

Jack palmed his clothed boner with interest but then shook his head, doubling down.

“Baby, pleaseeeeee..”

Nothing extraordinary would have happened if Jack hadn’t kept nagging and whining, pleading you to give him your butt. You kept saying ‘no’, he kept begging. It got so annoying that you decided to leave but before you sat up there was a loud knock on the bedroom door.

“Dad,” Jack grumbled and got up. He adjusted his hard cock and you pulled the bed cover higher, covering your chest.

“What’s up, dad?” Jack said, annoyed by the interruption.

“Can I …?” Mr Miller stepped into the bedroom. You swallowed loudly. It was weird to be completely naked under the sheet in front of your boyfriend’s father.

“Sorry for intrudin’, sweetheart,” he said, turning to you and then to his son. “Jack, I can’t listen to it no more! Don’t you get what she’s sayin’?”

“Dad, what the hell?” Jack’s cheeks grew red, he was shifting on his bare feet, throwing nervous glances at you. And you definitely shared his confusion.

“I wasn’t eavesdroppin’ I swear. These fuckin walls are cardboard thin. You were whinin’ like a little bitch, son. Sorry, sweetheart,” Mr Miller apologized to you again and then said the words that you’d never expected to hear from your boyfriend’s dad.

“Let me teach you anal.”

Jack was shocked and embarrassed. He was gawking at his dad with widened eyes while the older man was standing by the bed, towering over his son, feet planted firmly on the ground. He kept saying that he only wanted to help, gesturing with his big hands. To your surprise you immediately pictured those hands on your naked body.

You wondered how Mr Miller would teach you. Maybe he’d watch Jack and you, guiding you both, giving advice, or maybe he’d take matters (your ass) into his own hands. Those huge veiny hands. The thought made your core pucker and while Jack was asking his dad to leave, saying that he lost his mind, you pressed your thighs together under the cover, trying to alleviate the ache in your pussy.

“I couldn’t hear the TV, Jack! Only your pathetic attempts to put it in her ass. Sorry, baby,” Mr Miller looked at you, his hands raised palms to you.

“Don’t call her that,” Jack grumbled. He looked and sounded like a boy who didn’t want to share his toy truck.

“‘K,” his father nodded and turned at you. “Jus’ wanna help.”

He dropped his hands by his sides, his sad puppy eyes moving from his son and to you and back. Your heart swelled. Your pussy throbbed.

“Ok,” you said, surprising your boyfriend and yourself. Jack gawked at you.

“What do you mean ‘ok’?!”

“You want to have anal, yeah? But you got no clue what to do, don’t even lie, Jack! Let your dad teach us.”

That’s how you ended up in a position you couldn’t imagine being in your wildest dreams — lying naked on your front, your legs spread, your boyfriend's dad playing with your butt.

“Help ‘er relax,” Mr Miller says to his son, his voice soft and soothing, his tone casual as if he’s teaching Jack how to fix a lawn mower. Your boyfriend is seated in a gaming chair a foot away from the bed, his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. When his gaze meets yours, you quickly look away. He doesn’t seem pleased, rather mortified. Whatever. You always thought that Mr Miller was hot, in a rugged and dilf-y way.

Once you had a dream about blowing him in their kitchen, your mouth full of his fat cock, his fingers tight in your hair, no Jack and his cuck gaming chair in sight.

“Draw ‘er a nice bath, give ‘er a massage, somethin’ like that,” Joel says as his calloused palm glides up and down the back of your thigh. You’re one big goosebump, his touch is electrifying.

“No harsh movements.” He carefully pushes on your inner thigh until you bend up your leg. Your hips open and slightly rise off the bed. “She needs to be pliant, ready to take you in her most vulnerable place.”

Jack swallows hard. Your cheek is resting on the pillow, your head turned away from Mr Miller, but you are seeing him perfectly in the wardrobe mirror that stands lengthwise the bed. He’s wearing his usual flannel, sleeves rolled up, and dark blue jeans. It’s not his home clothes and you wonder if he dressed like this for you.

Mr Miller’s salt and pepper locks curl up at the nape, he needs a haircut, but you like his hair longer. You imagine running your fingers through his curls, tugging on them while he’s plowing your wet needy …

“Are you comfortable, sweetie?” Joel interrupts your dirty daydream with a question, his voice soft and raspy. It could have lulled you to sleep if not for a finger that grazes your butthole, making you flinch.

“Uh-huh.” You don’t sound too sure.

“We’ll get there,” he says with a little smile and adds, “Together.”

While you’re slowly melting into the bedsheets from his gentle tone, Mr Miller turns to Jack.

“Another important thing is lubrication. You have some?”

It looks like Jack’s using all his energy to dissociate at the moment thus he misses the question.

“Huh?”

“Lube? You have it or I need to go get mine?”

You widen your eyes, picturing Mr Miller squirt lube on some lucky lady in his master bedroom. And to think you considered him almost celibate!

Your boyfriend blinks a few times, then gets up. You hear him rummaging through a mess in his nightstand drawer, mumbling the word ‘crazy’ before he throws a little bottle on the bed and returns to his chair.

“It should be warm,” Joel says, rolling it between his wide palms.

“May I?” His reflection points at your ass in the mirror and you nod with a quiet ‘yes’. Mr Miller opens the lid with teeth and moves your left asscheek to the side for better access.

“Oh!” You gasp when a slight cold glob of lube lands on your tight ring.

“Bit more.” Joel adds another squirt and then starts spreading the liquid around your ring with a tip of his finger.

“Ahhhh,” you whimper and bite your tongue immediately. Jack’s chair creaks.

“Feels good?” When Joel asks you the question you don’t see a point in lying so you say “yeah.” Wet arousal pools in your core, it’s a matter of minutes before it slides out of your hole and reveals how insanely horny Mr Miller is making you.

“We’re just startin’ and look at her response,” Joel says with pride in his velvet voice while his finger is slowly drawing circles over your asshole. “She’s enjoyin’ it. Even if we stop now she’ll remember the act as something pleasant.”

“Maybe we should,” Jack mutters but neither Joel nor you pay it any attention. Hot flames are licking at your core, the ache in your pussy growing so fast, you roll your hips against the bed, searching for friction.

Adding gasoline to your horny fire is the sight in the mirror in front of you — Joel’s sexy hand moving rhythmically over your ass, his plush lips slightly parted, his dark eyes focused on your puckered hole.

Mr Miller lowers his voice and asks, “Growin’ needy?”

Your eyes lock in the mirror. Fuck! A hot flash burns your lower belly when his black pupils meet yours. Sparks flying, gazes drawn to each other for a few long seconds, promising pleasure and trouble. The intense eye contact does something to you, drowns you in an ocean of lust, pulls you so deep you panic and hastily flick your eyes to your boyfriend who seems very pale.

“Sweetheart,” Joel calls you as if hating to share your attention with his son. You hum but don’t look at him.

“Do you give your permission for the next step? To open you up I need to eat your ass. Is that alright?”

“No!”

“Yes!”

Both you and Jack answer but you are the one calling the shots.

“Yes!” You repeat louder and raise your brows at Jack. Your boyfriend lets out a defeated sigh and drops his head.

“Good,” Joel says and gives your butt a light pat before cupping both asscheeks and spreading them apart. Cold air laps at your holes and you shiver. Joel smiles, probably noticing goosebumps on your skin.

“We’ll start slow.” In the mirror you watch him unhinge his jaw, stick his tongue out and lower his head.

You gasp when Mr Miller slowly licks your tight butthole. “Oh my God!”

Joel chuckles and repeats the depraved action. Soon he’s licking your asshole gingerly, his fingers digging into your flesh with passion. You’re softly moaning, your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. You’ve never had your ass eaten and the sensation is incredible. You wish he’d get lower and take care of your leaking pussy but fuckkk you can come just from Mr Miller’s tongue dancing over your little butthole. So when he parts from your ass, your needy whine rings in the room.

“I’ll be right back, sweetie.”

His wet lips are curled up at the corners, pride sparkling in his blown out eyes, Joel glances back at his son and announces,

“Now we gonna start openin’ her up with a tongue.” Your breathing hitches. You don’t see Jack’s expression because you can’t tear your eyes off Mr Miller in the mirror. “Gently push the tip inside her just so” — Joel leans down and his hot tongue prods at your ring, your mouth forms an O as you moan.

Joel mutters, “Slowly go in,” then his head begins moving up and down while his tongue slides into your ass deeper with every bop. He’s salivating onto your crack, the wetness dripping down to your pussy, covering your folds with the warm spit.

You are losing your mind over how amazing it feels, meanwhile Joel alternates between licking your ring and tongue-fucking it for what seems like hours or so you wish. His lewd slurping fills the room and mixes with your soft noises. You apply all your willpower to stop yourself from moaning like a whore out of respect for your boyfriend who is now sitting with his legs crossed, probably hard but too shocked to accept it.

“How you feelin’, baby?” Joel asks, licking his spit-covered lips.

“S—so good, Mr Miller,” you stutter, staring at him in the mirror with your half lidded eyes.

“See, she’s already gapin’ a little,” Joel says, showing your asshole to Jack.

“Hm-m,” Jack hums, his brows furrowed, his suspicious gaze trained on your ecstatic face.

“Now let’s add a finger.”

You squeak like a little mouse and your holes clench. Joel notices.

“Hey, don’t be scared, babygirl. You’re open nicely now. And I’m gonna be gentle, yeah?”

“Ok,” you reply and hold your breath.

“Nuh-uh. None of that. You should be breathin’, sweetheart.” He puts his warm heavy palm on your back, between your shoulder blades and rubs it up and down, giving you a rhythm.

“In— out—in— out.”

You follow his direction and soon your muscles relax, your eyes flutter close, your jaws unclench. It seems like your body is seeping into the mattress.

“I’m puttin’ one finger in.”

His voice is so quiet you barely register his words, barely notice his finger going inside your ass, miss a slight burn of the stretch, that’s how serene you are feeling.

When you finally open your eyes you see Mr Miller’s reflection thrusting his index finger in and out of your butthole, his eyes on your ring, his lip between his teeth.

“Wow,” you mutter, in awe of the hot sight and the new sensation. All your holes clench again and again, your pussy pushing your generous slick out and you catch yourself wanting Joel to fuck you.

"Another finger? Is that alright, sweetie?" With your heart pounding in your ears, Joel's raspy voice seems both close and far. You nod and mumble a shaky 'yes' before he inserts a second digit into your lubed up asshole. You moan, Joel growls, both at the same time. Your boyfriend curses under his breath.

"Hooooooly hell," you exhale against the pillow, clenching bedsheets with your clammy palms while Joel's scissoring your tight ring open. "This … it's amazing."

Joel pulls his fingers out of you and chuckles yet it comes out strained. You know it takes everything from him not to whip his cock out and fuck you right now. Jack seems to feel it, too.

"Dad, maybe that's enough?"

"No."

"No!"

Your yell drowns out Joel's reply. Your cheeks burning, lust clouding your mind and overtaking your body, you lift your head off the bed and glare at Jack.

"Mr Miller needs to... we need to learn what to do next. Right?"

Jack crosses his arms, his lower lip sticking out.

Completely disregarding his son's suggestion to stop, Joel nods at you and asks Jack as if it's some depraved sex ed class.

"She's nice and ready now. What's next?"

Jack blinks at his dad, a mixture of frustration and confusion plastered on his face. He shrugs. "I fuck her."

"Wrong!" Joel sits up straight and gives him a disappointed look. "Son, the most important thing about anal is consent."

You drop your head back on the pillow and nod with the 'obviously' expression meanwhile Joel continues.

"Even after you did all the necessary prep, you ask her again. And if she says 'no', you stop! Got it?"

You watch Joel in the mirror, his bushy brows furrowed, two obsidian eyes piercing Jack. He's not fucking around.

"Yeah."

"Huh?"

"Yes, sir," Jack mumbles. He looks so pitiful now you get scared of your pussy turning into the Sahara so you hastily move your eyes to the mirror with Joel's reflection in it.

You watch and feel your boyfriend's dad lean down to you. His hot breath fans your naked back, sending chills down your spine, as he asks,

"Can I fuck your ass now, baby?"

Your voice is wanton and needy, you're almost drooling onto the bed, as you reply,

"Yes, Mr Miller. But..?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Can I be on my back?”

Joel kisses your shoulder and coos,

“Sure thing.”

Your body buzzing with want, you slowly and awkwardly roll over. Your exposed tits jiggle as you get comfortable and Joel takes you in— your puffy pussy, your heaving belly, your nipples hard as diamonds, desire plastered on your face.

Jack nervously clears his throat and leaves his cuck chair.

“You ain’t really doing it, right?”

You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or his dad but Joel is the one who answers,

“I’m teachin’ you two. And this is the most crucial part. You wanna go in now and ruin all the progress?”

Jack closes and opens his mouth, but when you shake your head at his attempt to intervene, your boyfriend plops back in the chair, looking gobsmacked.

“This is insane,” he murmurs and you have to agree. You’re feeling insanely good.

With a nonchalant expression on his flushed face Joel grabs a pillow.

“Raise your hips for me, baby.”

You do what he asks and he quickly places it under your butt. When your hips are raised Joel hums in approval.

“Grab your knees for me, please.”

Like an obedient student you do it immediately.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

His praise, his scent - manly and dizzying, his warm smile, his obsidian eyes set between your thighs — all of it makes your blooming pussy contract and a drop of clear slick beads at your entrance.

Joel smirks, his dark gaze darts to yours and then back to your leaky hole. He opens his mouth but words die on his lips.

Instead he takes a sharp breath and climbs on the bed, grunting. With your body trembling in anticipation you watch Mr Miller kneel by your propped up butt, unzip his jeans, his back now to his son.

Just for your hungry eyes, he pulls his cock out. Big, veiny, hard as steel fuck machine. Hnggg!

You clench your jaws, killing a moan that rises in your throat from the sight of his manhood. You see a drop of precum on the slit and your mouth waters.

“Need more lube.” Joel squirts a generous amount on his hand and then strokes his cock spreading the liquid.

You squirm on the bed, fear and excitement coursing through your veins. He wants to stick that huge thing where?!

Joel seems to read the worry on your face. With one hand around the base of his stiff shaft, he brings the other to your knee and gives it a light squeeze.

“If you want me to stop I will.”

You don’t reply, just stare up at him, fear and desire playing tug-of-war in your heart.

“See?” Joel gets his son’s attention but doesn’t look away from you. “This sweet thing is unsure but she’s bein’ brave and doesn’t stop me.”

Jack sighs with relief from behind Joel’s broad body. He probably hopes that you’ve changed your mind.

Then the older man addresses you.

“You don’t have to be brave for me or anyone else, ok?” You hum while warmth spreads in your belly, reaches your clit and makes it throb. You open your mouth but words don’t come out. Joel gives you a knowing smile and offers,

“How ‘bout I open you up again with my fingers? Two steps forward, one step back.”

Jack’s chair creaks unhappily when you breathe out, “Yes, please.”

Joel gives you a curt nod and sits on his heels, his cock still hard and waiting. His strong hand circles around the back of your thigh as he keeps it steady for you.

Jack’s view is blocked by Joel so he doesn’t see when his dad traces your pussy hole with his fingers and brings the wetness down to your ring. His eyes dart up to yours just for a second, you see lust and mischief there.

“Alright, here we go,” he mumbles to himself, easing two lubed up fingers inside you. This time you take them easily, dull pain of the stretch is present but also welcomed. You moan.

Mr Miller closely watches your face twisting with pleasure while his fingers are fucking your butt. You watch him back, suddenly swept by a feeling so strong, you forget how to breathe for a second. There's no one else in the room, in the whole world, only you and this big older man, giving you an unforgettable experience, filling the hole that’s never been filled and you don’t want it to end, hate for him to stop. Stop giving, taking, watching you melt for him.

Ahhhh! A scorching heat floods your belly and hits you like a tsunami. Your core walls clench once, twice, your head digs into the pillow underneath, your eyes close and a loud moan slips out of your mouth. You’re shaking and crying ecstatic tears, your ass squeezing Joel’s thick digits, your pussy contracting around nothing.

“D— did you just come? Jack’s cold tone brings you back to reality as if a bucket of icy water was thrown over your head. Still jerking with climax you snap your eyes open, your breathing heavy, and see Joel’s lopsided smile in front of you.

Fuck! Your cheeks and neck burn and you cover your face with your hands, embarrassed by unraveling in front of your boyfriend’s dad. With his fingers in your ass.

Joel comes to your rescue. He gently rubs your thigh with his paddle of a hand and coos,

“She’s one of a kind, Jack. The anal stimulation isn’t as pleasurable for women as it is for men. In the right hands though… you did wonderful, sweetie.”

You bite your lip, hiding a grin that’s about to bloom on your face, and grip your knees tighter.

“We can stop now if…,” Joel starts.

“No!” You cut him off and push your knees to your chest. “I want to be ready. For the real thing.”

“I’ll give you the real thing,” Joel whispers so quietly it’s barely audible but you hear. Your eyes lock as he plants his palm on the bed by your side and hovers over your lower half.

“Ready, sweetheart?”

After you say ‘yes’ Mr Miller glances back in the direction of his son.

“Jus’ the tip at first. Maybe only. Depends on how she takes it.”

He looks down at you with that soft but feral gaze of his and talks to Jack.

“Watch her face closely when you push inside.”

Joel’s hot leaky cockhead kisses your pussy hole and you gasp, your entrance winking at his manhood, inviting it to come in. Joel whispers,

“Only teasin’.” You smile and shake your head at the man. He gives you a wink and drags his tip down along the delicate skin between your pussy and asshole and then nudges your tight ring.

“If she scrunches her pretty nose, stop. Means she’s hurtin’.”

Joel presses his crown against your asshole and applies pressure. Your mouth parts when he starts pushing it into your asshole, the stretch far bigger than with his fingers. You take a few deep breaths, not stopping him, craving to be fucked.

“Yeah, breathe for me, baby. In and out. Like I taught ya.”

In! in! in! your pussy screams and throbs with the rhythm of your heartbeat, your body desperate to be ruined by your boyfriend’s dad.

Mr Miller pauses and closes his eyes, his forearm muscles tense with restraint, the veins of his hand that’s wrapped around his shaft are bulging. He speaks, trying to keep his voice steady.

“The most difficult thing now—is to control yourself — all you wanna do — is shove your dick deep inside her— to the hilt—- she feels so fuckin’ good.”

His arousal and your desire merge together and form an electric cloud around you two, the scent of sex heavy in the air. Mr Miller moves another inch deeper and you whimper.

“But you musn’t,” he grunts to his son or to himself. “You should be in control— think of her first and your pleasure second —Yeahhh?”

The last word sounds like a moan and you smile dizzily, ecstatic to see how much bliss you’re giving him. Joel pushes in some more and then looks into your eyes. “Wanna see?”

You nod eagerly and place another pillow under your head, propping it up to get a better view.

The sight before your eyes takes your breath away. Joel’s big hand wrapped around his girthy cock, the veins on his shaft thumping, glistening with lube. But the best thing is your stretched asshole, hugging Joel’s tip buried inside.

“Wow,” you breathe out. Joel smirks, his smile lopsided and boyish. He drops his head to your butt and asks,

“Wanna stop here? Done so good already.”

You crane your neck and glance at Jack, expecting him to scream ‘Yes! Stop! Now!’ but he’s hunched over in his cuck chair with a blank stare, chewing on the nail of his thumb.

You bring your gaze back up at Joel and purr,

“I want all of it.”

Joel nods and thrusts in.

Mr Miller’s fucking your ass like it’s been made solemnly for this purpose. His hands are gripping your spread thighs, leaving marks on your soft skin, his hips snapping against your asscheeks, drowning the room in the lewd Slap slap slap! Sounds.

By now you’ve lost all the composure and your loud moans are flowing freely from your lips, mixing with Joel’s animalistic growls.

“Yeahhhh.. good girl…she’s a fast learner… takin’ me like a champ.”

“Thanks, Mr Miller,” you mewl with your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you feel a second orgasm building. Hungry for it you lick your fingers, reach for your throbbing clit and start rubbing it while Joel’s steel shaft is massaging your insides.

“Lemme… want some help?” Joel asks, consent king as always.

“Yes, please.”

Not minding his son watching you two from the back, Joel brings his calloused thumb to your puffy clit and starts drawing infinities over it.

You arch your back, losing your mind over how amazing it feels. Your ass is full of Joel’s cock, but your neglected pussy hole is crying desperately. You look for your boyfriend behind Joel’s broad back. He still looks shell shocked, his widened eyes lowered, and you realize that he’s watching his dads heavy balls slap against his girlfriend’s asscheeks.

Opps.

“Mr Miller,” you whisper, staring at the older man again, “Could you..?”

You lift your hand, stick two fingers out and move them up and down, fingering an invisible pussy.

Joel flashes you a knowing smile.

“Gotcha, sweetie.” He glances back at his son and raises his voice, talking to you,

“You strugglin’, baby? Ok if I help you relax?”

You consent loudly so Jack could hear and the next second Mr Miller changes hands and his dry index and middle fingers easily enter your sopping pussy.

Yeahhhh! You whimper, so full of his fat cock and digits, it feels like you’re going to come apart at the seams.

Joel’s massaging your g-spot with two fingers, his thumb working your clit, his cock relentlessly rutting into your ass. You’ve never been fucked this good and you try to hold off your second climax, hating for the sex to end.

But Joel’s too hot, too experienced and soon you come with a wail, arching your sweaty back off the bed and clamping Joel’s hips with your thighs. Blinding ecstasy is coursing through your body, your cunt pulsing around Joel’s fingers, your asshole choking his cock so hard he stills.

“Here— we g—goooHngggg….” he roars, retreats his fingers out of your pussy and covers you with his huge frame. He pushes his face into your sweaty neck but holds his weight over your thrashing body.

“Where?” He chokes, his chest rumbling with groans, and you wrap your arms around his broad back and press your naked tits to him, mumbling into his ear,

“Inside my ass, Mr Miller. Please.”

His whole body tenses up over you and he begins squirting his hot cum deep inside your butt. The warmth of his load fills you more and more, every erratic thrust of his cock pushes the sticky spent back into you and you hold him tight, wishing to be stuffed to the brim. It doesn’t take long with how much he comes and soon his jizz covers your asscheeks and his balls, sticking them together like glue. You feel filthy and sexy, with your boyfriend’s dad busting inside you, the former having a perfect view of your asshole sucking the older man’s cum in. Too abundant it rolls down your crack and onto Jack’s bed.

Both of you are panting when Joel carefully pulls his cock out of your asshole and falls on the bed next to you, still fully clothed except for the pulled down jeans and boxers.

“Dad, put your dick away,” Jack grumbles.

“Yeah yeah.” Joel tucks his cock back in, leaving his jeans open. He sounds exhausted. You cover yourself with a sheet suddenly remembering that you’re naked next to your boyfriend’s dad.

You turn your head to him resting next to you, his forearm covering his closed eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly, his leg dangling off the edge of the bed. He’s so handsome you want to bite him. The man had a full day of work and then rocked your world. You find it incredibly hot but also feel guilty for exhausting him even more.

You watch Mr Miller for a few moments, warmth spreading in your belly and chest, until he takes a deep breath, opens his eyes and turns his head to you.

“Dad?” Jack calls impatiently, hurrying the man to leave but Joel doesn’t spare him a glance and asks you,

“How you feelin’, baby?”

He nods down at your pussy but you know he’s asking about your butt.

“I’m ok.” You squirm on the bed, trying to access your state. “A little sore but good.”

“Good,” Joel repeats with a warm smile. You’re staring at each other silently, his gaze soft and warm, grinning like two fools. You want to kiss him but stop yourself. It’s inappropriate.

Then you remember where his cock was just a few minutes ago and giggle.

“What is it?” Joel asks, his eyes dart between yours and then slide to your lips.

You shake your head, silence thick and loaded between you two.

Jack rips it apart as he clears his throat.

“Thanks, dad. Fucking hell. You can go now.”

He gets up from the chair and crosses his arms, frowning at the two of you. You wonder if he’s going to break up with you after this. Whatever.

Joel sits up with a grunt and gets out of the bed. He sways a little and you smile proudly — you did it to him.

“Thank you, Mr Miller.” You sit up, holding the sheet over your body. He zips up his jeans and winks,

“Don’t mention it, baby.”

Jack scoffs. Joel heads to the door but as he passes his son he pauses.

“Get her a wet towel. And some water,” he commands. “So .. if she took my cock, she wouldn’t even notice yours. You’re welcome.”

With that he pats his son’s shoulder and leaves.

Who needs Jack, amirite? Maybe Joel can teach them something else?🤔 Thank you for reading! Please, leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed the story💞

MASTERLIST

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he does it anytime, anyplace: in front of the mirror while you watch him, him holding your thighs open while he feasts. in the morning, when you’re climaxing as you wake up. on the marble counter in the kitchen whilst your vegetable quiche is burning in the oven.

and now, you’re here again: on your the dinner table in the kitchen, your face shoved in the hard mahogany wood, your back slipping into a clean, perfect arch for your boyfriend, who hungrily laps fat, thick stripes over your sweet, slick-coated folds.

you’re already dripping wet, dribbles of slick drooling down your quivering thighs as you sigh out. your pussy sounds like a wet tube, spluttering and spraying white cum on the wooden table. fat, greasy droplets splat-splat-splatting off each other.

“such’a good kitty f’r me,” michael mutters, his greedy hands kneading your mound as you push your back in an even sharper curve. “such a pretty, wet pussy.” he says from behind you.

an answer is not needed; you lightly jerk your bum in his face. michael separates your ass cheeks with carefulness, afraid you’re going to break. your ass cheeks parting produces a sticky, sweaty sound as cool air hits your untouched skin.

“look at that, baby,” michael says, voice strained and coated in wonder. the inside of your ass glistens from sweat and lost drops of cum. your plump ass is shaped like a cute little cherry. “looks so fuckin’ pretty. all’o ya.”

at the feeling of your ass widening, you slide your thighs wider.

michael’s tongue darts out to give your ass crack a tiny, demure lick. the jelly-like substance of cum accumulates on the tip of his tongue, all white and creamy, as michael hums in satisfaction at your taste.

“ass is made for me,” he mumbles, his hands subconsciously playing with your clit. “a fuckin’ five star meal. drippin’ on the dinner table, coated in juice.”

without any warning, your boyfriend dips his face between your ass cheeks, inhaling your scent. the tip of his nose gently breaches open your puckered hole.

“mike—” you whine out when he wiggles his face around between your cheeks, his tongue shyly lapping at your seam, a place he oddly feels at home. the weight of his face smothers you further into the wood. “‘s so dirty— what you’re doing.”

michael huffs out a cocky laugh. “but i am dirty,” he says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to admit, “and you’re a dirty girl. y’like that, don’t you—? me licking your ass?”

you feel disgusting.

he doesn’t wait for another second, dropping a dollop of his thick spit on your puckered, twitching hole. his tongue circles around it, but when michael tries to prod further, you close up.

it’s not like you want to. it’s just a bodily reaction. “‘s all good now,” michael coos at how you whimper in the wood. you’re a little frustrated you’re denying him access, even though your little pussy is shaking from anticipation and excitement, your peachy slick running down your soppy folds. “just your mikey, just wanna eat y’open.”

michael continues to sweet-talk your ass whilst you keep wiggling against the cold wood, until— “i have an idea.”

it takes a couple of seconds until you feel it: the sticky substance of honey drizzling between your ass cheeks, all syrup-like. michael takes his pointer and middle finger to spread the gluey liquid from your ass cheeks over your slippery, cum- and sweat-coated folds.

another drizzle of honey right on your asshole, the honey getting all webby around your tiny hole as she puckers in and out. michael circles his thumb around it, spreading it thin.

“fuck baby, now you’re even sweeter,” he moans out, looking at how your bum is sticky, shiny, and covered in something edible. perfect for him to eat.

he squeezes your ass cheeks shut, pulls them open again — with some more force from the stickiness, this time — as thin ropes of honey connect between your two cheeks. michael’s sloppy tongue curls up to break the honey strings, his hot breath fanning over your skin.

“so—” he licks one side, “fuckin’— ”then the other, “delicious.” and then he kisses your fluttery asshole, his lips coated in the sticky honey, leaving his lips all shiny and smooth.

you can only croak out a “oh my g—” before your boyfriend attacks. suddenly he eats your ass like a man starved: the feeling of his raw lips scraping over the soft globes of your ass, tongue tenderly slipping into your now tender, vulnerable, squelching hole. “that feel good, baby?” he says into your skin.

michael’s strong hands hold your cheeks open as you feel the honey cloying around your tight ring. the amber mixture mingled with michael’s saliva meanders between your folds as michael rotates slow, slimy circles to your pounding — also honey-covered — clit. “y-yes, so f— so good.”

his movements are so slow from the stickiness of the honey, it produces soppy sounds, like two wet hands rubbing over each other, as honey gushes around your vulva. michael presses down teasingly on your clit, testing out what your pussy will do.

your entrance gapes open, honey also webbing across your abused entrance.

“y’hear that?” michael asks, the sounds of your pussy squirming, unabashedly obscene, bubbling out slick under the honey mask, droopy strings falling on the table. “that’s the sound of someone gettin’ her fuckin’ beautiful ass eaten.” he laughs, placing one nasty smack to your jiggling ass. like you’re something to be played with. “look at how wide she’s. all for mikey, right?”

and then he goes back. back to driving his tongue into you. gathering all the remaining honey from your puckered asshole, laving your backside up as your cummy, sugary taste marinates in your mouth. “fuck— michael, do something, do something—”

you forcefully push your asshole further onto michael’s tongue, the inside of your hole all velvety and gummy. his tongue impales you; all stiff and hard as he tries to wiggle it around in the tight space.

“‘m gonna do something. just wait,” it doesn’t take long before michael pushes you down on your back on the dinner table, your damp, sticky ass all slippery and gloopy on the wood. the mixture running down your pussy lips is so heavy and thick, and trickles all between your crack as michael pushes your knees to your chest, all of your weight shifting to your upper back.

you’re completely opened for him. like, completely. your flowered-open pussy, as well as your clammy, tight hole, begging for wet friction, on display. “now i can alternate between both of my girls,” says michael with a dark look, examining your pussy, your shiny ass.

he wastes no time to go in for the kill as his hot, soppy tongue eases into your usual hole, the tip of michael’s tongue curling, prodding at your walls. but then he goes back to your ass, squeezing his tongue between the taut ring as his hands stretch your ass cheeks further.

you can’t do anything but take it. now you know he loves eating you out, front and back.

you ignored the urge to close your legs as a hard slap against your pussy turned into gentle rubbing again. the way he forced them apart and kept you wide open was so unfair !! you were beyond overstimulated from his hand against your clit, and yet he showed you very little sympathy.

"what's wrong? you wanted this, didn't you?" there's a hint of a giggle in his voice and it makes you pout. "stop complaining when i give you what you ask for." he mumbles into your ear. "i'm sorry, sir." you respond, quietly. your head is still all fuzzy and your heart is racing so fast it's going to leap out of your chest any minute now. you didn't even know if you wanted him to stop or keep going anymore.

However, his jealousy over you choosing someone other than him seeps through his work, stopping the devastating curl of his digits against the spongy spot that was having you see stars, pulling a whine from where you are on his lap.

“W-Why’d you stop?” His fingers stay still inside your cunt, how it aches for just a mere twitch from them. He hums into the side of your head, lips shy from the shell of your ear. “Am I making you feel good?”

Is he serious?

You nod nonetheless, anything to get him to start back up again. “Yes, yes, s-so fucking good..!”

And so he does, but a complete contrast from before. It’s slower now, deliberate. Pausing at the edge, not fully leaving you, only to linger, letting you feel the absence before pushing all the way back inside. Hand gripped to your hip, so you won’t dare to pick up the pace and try to grind down onto them.

“He doesn’t have you moaning like this, does he?” He muses, watching the way you screw up your face from the mention of your shitty boyfriend. Your cheeks by now should be reddening from humiliation, the way you’re seeking dire touches from your best friend rather than the man you’re dating, how he’s asking questions he already knows the answer to.

Michael just wants to hear you admit it. To admit who’s got you shaking like this, to admit that this is really happening, both of you not in a dream. That you’re giving him all the reign to touch you however you want, because you won’t find it better with anyone else but him.

You answer when his fingers halt again, not letting you ignore him. “No, he doesn’t.” You don’t have to pick your head up to know he’s smiling, thumb now pressed barely to your clit, enough to make the friction even more unbearable.

“Will you leave him?”

Your broken sounds are cut short, caught off-guard by his question. It didn’t occur to you, but you think about how the guilt will burn you from the inside out to go back to your boyfriend right after Michael had you unraveling in his hands.

Apparently you waited too long for his liking, fingers dragging out. You shake your head, needing back that overwhelming fullness. “No wait, I will! I want you, not him. He can’t make me feel good like you do.”

You’ll say anything to get him to reward you with your gradually built-up pleasure, but he sees right through it. The circling of his thumb to your clit stops, fingertip lingering at your entrance. “I don’t think you mean that.”

Your voice is wrecked at this point, clinging onto the fabrics of his shirt for god knows how long. “Please, please, I mean it! Just—“

With devastating ease, he presses back in with two fingers this time, babbles dying on your tongue. Your body clenches tight to adjust, but it’s pointless as he pulls out again.

“Tell me again. Who makes you feel good? Me or that punk?”

Your muscles flutter, thighs twitching. “You!” And he’s back to it, this time thrusting his fingers in sharper, firmer, shifting his wrist to reach new depths.

It was all so fast, being so use to his torturous slow strokes. It had your orgasm arriving quickly, feeling it come from all the way down to tip of your toes, pulse stuttering.

Until he stopped himself yet again. “I want to hear you say it one more time, because I’m still not sure if I believe you.”

"Baby, it's s'good," Michael spoke first, his breathing becoming more rapid, chest heaving up and down as if he were trying to suck up all the remaining air in the room. His back was pressed tightly against the headboard, occasionally lurching forward.

He was embarrassed honestly, embarrassed to be in the position of nearly cumming in his pants, his boxers that once fit perfectly now seeming more tight and restricted against his body. He placed one of his hands on the small of your back guiding your hips forward as his other one covered his face, trying his best to stifle any sounds that managed to slip past the filter he'd placed on himself.

"It's okay, Mikey, it's just us," you moaned against the crook of his neck, earning another stifled whimper.

You were close, so close that you could feel your hips sputtering, desperately humping at his bulge. Your panties now completely soaked through, creating a new wet spot on his boxers.

"It's too much," his words were slurred, like he was completely drunk off the feeling of your body pressed against his, like he couldn't help but feel this way when you were this close to him, breath fanning against the sensitive skin of his neck.

"Do it, baby, I'm here," you whispered closely in his ear, just enough to drive him straight off the edge, enough to let the pleasure he'd been denying himself slip through the innocent mask he pretended to wear.

"Oh... ohh," it was louder than he intended it to be, but he couldn't help it, his hips forcing themselves upwards as his head flung backwards, brows knitted tightly, eyes fluttering open before shutting again.

There was a pause in the room, the closeness that was once there now gone, as it made room for the gasps of air that fell from Michael's lips and the small whines that fell from your own.

"You... okay?" You smiled, suppressing a small laugh at the way Michael's eyes could barely stay open, jaw relaxed as his mouth hung open.

“It's not funny, I'm embarrassed now” he turned his head so that he wouldn't be looking you in the eyes, but it didn't last long before your fingers grasped at his chin, moving it to that he'd be facing you before kissing him, sending shivers all over.

©angelfacediary