Havoc

Steve Harrington has a big, pretty dick, and he knows you want it. Fuck, why wouldn’t you, right? It’s long, with a blushed and swollen tip. Nice and thick, decorated by a few throbbing veins and even a lucky freckle or two. Steve’s pubic hair is soft and dark, and he’s got the most intimately heady, utterly addicting scent. It’s pretty as a picture. 

Which is why it’s so fun to taunt you with it, right? Steve’s got you on your side in bed as you’re whining for him, for it. “Stevie, please.”

Steve lets out a chuckle at the nickname. Stevie. “I don’t…gosh, I just - don’t  - know,” he says, tapping his heavy tip on your clit as he enunciates each word. “Do you really think you can take it?”

“I can take it, yes. Fuck, I can - I can do it, just fucking give it to me.”

Steve hums. “Mm. Maybe. I don’t know if you deserve it, is the - the thing, actually. You have to really want it.” 

He’s rolling his hips in that steady, practiced, perfected way. Cock sliding back and forth through your wet folds, passing over that poor, swollen clit of yours. And it’s not like it’s neglected or anything, right? Steve will make you cum on his tongue and his fingers however much you want. Yet it’s not enough for you. You want to feel him inside you, hard dick throbbing as he fills you over and over again with himself. But Steve holds out. 

There’s indents in his thick biceps from your fingernails. You’re burying your face in his neck and his big hands are wrapped around your waist, guiding your movements in a perfect rhythm. Steve giggles stupidly when he dips just the head of himself into your entrance. “Whoops. Almost put it in ya,” he teases, slowly dragging it back out and up your puffy, slick folds again. 

“Steve, please stop teasing me.”

“Teasing you? I’m not even doing anything. Barely even touching you,” he mumbles, watching how pretty is cock looks hugged by your lips. When he pulls back, it’s coated in your arousal. “Where’d you - fuck - even come up with that idea?” 

“Steve.”

“Mm, we gotta get your head checked, I think. You’re losin’ it.” 

You’re so easy to get all riled up like this. Your body’s trembling, and Steve’s whispering that he knows, baby. He knows, he knows, he knows. You can barely hear his quiet voice over the warm and wet sounds your pussy and his cock make together. Those sticky, lewd noises, accompanied by the way you drip both onto Steve and your own thighs have you losing it indeed, just like he suggested. 

You’re gonna soak through the sheets at this rate. Steve slides his fingers between your lips and rubs your clit, just to feel how swollen you’ve become. Steve pauses, focusing hard. He lets out a breathy laugh when he feels the sensitive bud pulse under his fingertips, practically throbbing in his hand. He replaces his fingers with his cock once again, and the way he fucks you between your thighs has you gasping, feeling each of those thick veins of his. 

Steve pulls back, lining up his head with your entrance, and pushes into you quickly as he groans. “Fuck, my bad. That’s my bad,” he grunts, pulling back out of you to continue his tease. “I’m really sorry about that. It was an accident.”

You cry his name and wrap your legs tight around his waist, begging him to put it back in you. Steve shakes his head and laughs, amused by your desperation as his wet and heavy cock lays between your bodies, resting on your tummy. 

Steve’s a sucker for those big, watery eyes you give him, aching for his fucking. It tugs at his heart or dick or something, sue him. He smiles sympathetically, then slides into you fully, and he stays there. “Oh, fuck,” you moan, simultaneously relieved enough you could cry and so unbelievably worked up. 

“Yeah? That what you wanted?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, pulsing around his length. 

“Why didn’t you just say so?”

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