Hey Bitches

„You should just come hang out in my quarters, doll.“

“And why would i do that?”

“i dunno, for fun?”

It was a typical conversation between you and your boyfriend’s best friend, everytime you were alone for even a second in the avengers tower, whether it be the short walk to the bathroom or you moving around the kitchen to make something for the both of you to eat.

If you were alone, Bucky was there.

He wasn’t a terrible friend, well, not after you got used to him. And actually it was worse at first, him coming in and accusing you of using his best friend for the fame, saying that there’s no way you’re actually dating him because you like him.

But that, according to Steve, was his way of calling you hot. And once he got more comfortable, his compliments, if they can even be called that, became a lot more blunt.

Anything from inviting you into his room to asking what kind of underwear you wear for Steve and if he could see.

Bucky was open about his attraction to you, despite the fact that you were only even there because you were in a relationship with his best friend.

You know there’s been a few times that he’s heard you moaning while Steve fucked you into his sheets for hours on in, with his room being right next door, there’s no way he would have not heard it. Though that is one thing he doesn’t bring up, surprisingly enough. You still wish he would, so you could tell him just how big his friends dick is and how satisfied it makes you- that you have no interest in anyone else’s.

„You’ll give in eventually.” He leans back against the island behind you, small, stupid smirk on his face as he watches you finish rinsing the bowl of fruit you’re readying to take back to Steves room.

„Will i?”, you say back half heartedly. You really don’t even have to say anything when he starts talking, but the times you’ve tried that, his comments dared on the edge of creepy as if to force a reaction out of you.

„You will“, he reassures, „they all do.”

You merely nod, setting the bowl down to find a bottle of water.

„Well, good for you.”

“It’ll be good for you too, doll.“

You can feel his eyes burn down your back side as you turn away from him again.

„Just good, huh?”, you say as monotone as you can manage, grabbing the cold plastic before closing the fridge back. „Well, it’s great with Steve. I think i’ll just stick with him.”

He lets out a deep laugh that catches you off guard, making you snap your head towards him, eyebrows furrowed at his genuine amusement.

„No it’s not“, he shakes his head, smirk daring to twitch into a full smile.

„Yes it is“, you snap back, as if this was an argument he could possibly win. As if he knew how good your boyfriend was in bed.

„No“, he chuckles between his words, „it’s not.”

„Yes it is.” you snap back again, eyes widening in bewilderment that he was so set on arguing about it. Though it is your fault for thinking Bucky, of all people, would let you win against him with a one liner. „Your friend is very good at what he does-”

„Don’t lie to me.” The brunette haired man’s smile drops, tone much more serious as he pushes himself away from the counter, long legs helping him get to you before you think to move away.

„Stevie can’t even get you off, can he?”

The embarrassment washes over your face and you nearly drop the bottle from your hand. It was something that the two of you obviously hadn’t told anyone else, trying again and again to make things work, to help get you.. there. But, it just hasn’t happened yet.

“Excuse me?”

You’d met Steve only shortly after S.H.I.E.L.D got his hands on him and he became an avenger, Bucky following a few year after and a few month later you and Steve came together. You’ve taken Steves virginity, so really both of you were still learning about what the other liked. But even on the laziest of days, there wasn’t a time that your boyfriend didn’t reach his climax. But you just couldn’t blame him. He never had the chance to practice with girls before, never went on any dates, never even kissed a girl before you.

But Bucky, well, according to Steve he always had no issues with the ladies. He’s always been handsome and popular among women, so before Hydra turned him into the Winter Soldier and put him into a freezer he had enough time to practice.

“I could, though.”

You can feel the heat from his hand as it reaches up to brush down your neck, corners of his lips tugging up crookedly once again. „Easily.”

You flinch from his touch as it starts to drift lower, scrambling to grab the bowl you’d abandoned and shuffling your way back to the cool comfort of Steves quarters.

The night goes on like normal, sharing the snack you made with your boyfriend, laying on his broad chest and watching whatever movie it is that the two of you landed on tonight. Your hand wanders like it always does, feeling the soft of his chest and tracing down to his abdomen, fingers dipping into every indentation of his skin before playing with the strings on his sweatpants. God, he looked so good in his grey sweatpants.

You don’t think he notices the way you hesitate before moving under the waistband, but he does. He also notices how you don’t turn up to kiss him when you first rub at his cock through his boxers like you always do.

„What’s wrong, princess?” he mumbles, trying to nudge your head up with his chin. „You know we don’t have to if you don’t want-”

„I want to“, you mumble back, pushing yourself off the bed to straddle his thighs. Blue eyes stare back at you as you work his pants down, exposing him for you to freely touch. You watch as his face relaxes, as you drop a glob of spit down to the tip of him, using your hands to slather down the length of him.

Can’t even get you off, can he?

The words have seared their way into your brain, heating you from the inside out with irritation. You could guess that that was Buckys intention, to keep you thinking about him and more about the unintentional edging your boyfriend has been doing to you for months now.

Steve‘s fully hard by the time you snap out of your thoughts, prompting you to remove your own bottoms. You know he’s staring at you with pinched eyebrows, face twisted up in confusion. But you just can’t find anything to say, can’t find a way to explain to him how badly you want to finally cum on his cock, to get off and it be by his hand.

„Stop.“ Large hands grip your hips, halting your movement as you try to climb back on top of him. „What are you doing?”

Finally, you look back at his face, and it’s just as screwed up as you thought it would be, blue eyes searching yours.

„I just want to fuck, Steve.” You blink back at him. You think about all the times you’ve gone back from his quarters to your own, how many times you’ve had to pull out your toys and use the ridiculous amount of slick you still had clinging to you to get yourself off. How each time all you could think about is how much better it would feel if you weren’t having to do all of the work.

„Right“, he nods, pausing when you try again to move back to where you were previously sitting, to no avail as his hands don’t let you budge. „And why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

You move your mouth to speak, but no excuse comes to mind fast enough.

„You’re never like this, even when you are needy“, he laughs, maneuvering you to sit back on his comforter.

You groan, throwing yourself back into his pillows, arms falling over your face as you stall off on telling him what was actually on your mind. He’s never cared about what Bucky said to you before, mainly because neither did you. Nothing he’s said has ever carried weight before, but that one sentence feels like a bag of boulders sitting atop your chest.

„How does Bucky know you haven’t made me cum before?”

If the situation wasn’t what it is, you’d laugh at how comically fast Steve sits up and turns to face you.

„What?”

You peek from behind your arms, and sigh before explaining to him the conversation that was weighing on you.

„I didn’t tell him.” Steve lays himself back down next to you, blinking up at the ceiling in thought.

„Do you think he was bluffing?”

You twist your lips, throwing your now cold legs over your boyfriend for warmth.

„He’s only a dick about things he knows are true“, he replies, hands rubbing up your calves to your thighs and back down again. „Can’t be intimidating when you look stupid“, he laughs, quoting his friend.

„So what then?”, you slide back into his side, a hand palming down to his already softening cock to tug it back to life.

„No idea,” he hums at the feeling, „but you know i’ll keep trying until i do.”

It’s just as you start to get into a rhythm with your wrist, making his breathing a bit heavier when you feel Steves phone vibrate somewhere on the bed. You don’t stop even as he moves the arm holding you into him to unlock his screen.

There’s no real reason to be so hung up on those stupid words. Not when Steve was right here, easy to give as always.

You take the chance to straddle one of his thighs while you can, leaning over his body you press kisses down his chest. Mind fully focused on him you start to feel the familiar pool of warmth settle in your stomach and start to leak out between your thighs.

You only get a twitch of your hips across his thigh before he stops you again. Before you can get a word out to question it, he shows you the message pulled from his notification screen.

»u both have to know that i can hear everyfuckingthing in ur room«

»including how she whines every time that u cum before she does«

»Your 80 years old Cap, u should know how to fuck better«

„So…,” you pull his face down to you so he can hear you whisper. “i guess we have to start being quiet.”

He doesn’t reply at first, instead he leans further down to put his lips to your throat, sucking at the sensitive parts of it. You have to bite your lips to fight back the sounds you make.

„No way,” he says into your skin, kissing up the side of your neck as his weight shifts onto one arm. The other slides between your bodies, a finger sliding up your slit just as he grazes the shell of your ear with his teeth.

„He’s been listening all this time, who cares if he listens some more.”

Steve‘s thick finger slides past your entrance, pulling a small whine from you as he pulls it back before pushing it back in. The stretch he gives you as he adds another feels good, but it’s not nearly enough.

„Just got to make you cum this time, don’t i, baby?” His words vibrate against you, making your hips twitch down on his fingers, greedy for him to make good on his word.

“More Steve, please-“

and he obliges, pressing a third finger into your poor little cunt, stretching your walls in the way that sends your eyes rolling back and hips rolling up.

„Well you won’t be able to do it like that“, a voice comes from the doorway. A figure, that you’re unable to see because of the chest blocking your sight, approaches the bed and you know, before you see the dark brown hair leaning over, that it’s of course Bucky.

„Buck“, your boyfriend shifts to try and cover you more, which results in him pushing his fingers even deeper inside you and pulling a high whine from your lips. „Get out.”

„What?” the bed dips next to the two of you. „You said i can listen, it’s basically the same thing as watching.”

A different set of fingers graze up your side, stopping at where Steve’s body covers your own.

„Plus, i could teach you some shit while i’m here”, he chuckles, pushing his friend out of the way to reveal more of your skin. „Since you clearly don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.”

There’s a brief silence in the room when your boyfriend finally looks back down at you, raising an eyebrow as if asking you for an answer, like he’s already settled on his own.

Your mouth drops to speak but a moan slips out instead of a whine when cold metal fingers twist at one of your nipples causing a flood of heat to rush down to the pit of your stomach from the new sensation. The obnoxious deep chuckle rings from beside you at your reaction and your answer has been decided for you.

The room is quiet for a few minutes, only ambience is the sound of Bucky pushing Steve off his own bed and shifting you around to sit in his lap, legs spread and your knees hooked on his own.

Bucky says something about this being the best demonstrative position and you have to bite back the remark about that being such a big word for him because the feeling of one warm hand and a cold metal one against the soft skin of your thigh is too tempting to risk losing.

„Don’t look at me while i do this.” His words rumble against your neck as he pulls you further back into his chest.

„Like i would.”

„‘course you would, doll.”

„Buck.”

„You know where her clit is, right?”, he asks over your shoulder, a single finger sliding through your folds, catching on the hood of your clit with each movement.

„Well yeah.”

„Do you know how to use her clit?”, the pad of his finger presses against the sensitive nub, circling slowly and sending hot static down your thighs.

„uh..”

Your boyfriend trails off, or maybe he doesn’t, maybe he’s talking and you’ve tuned him out, to focus on how good it feels… to feel good at the hands of someone else.

„So, that’s a no.” The voice from behind you pulls you from your pleasured state and you realize that you’ve completely relaxed into him with a hand wrapping around the bicep of the arm that leads down between your legs.

„What about her g-spot?”, Bucky mumbles, sounding completely uninterested in getting an actual answer.

„She said fingers can’t reach it.”

And there he goes laughing again.

„Bullshit.”

To prove his point, Bucky brings his metal hand down to your entrance, keeping a steady pace on your clit as he slides a finger into your dripping cunt with ease.

„You just gotta-“

He curls the finger up against your soft wall, sending a crash of pleasure into you, one you’ve only ever been able to give to yourself. You let out a sound so loud as he adds another and starts to pump and curl them into you, that it startles even you.

„See?”

Your body can’t even move to hump down into his hands, limp and burning with pleasure as you let him do as he pleases. It takes only seconds for the heat in your stomach to become a knot wearing thin, you can feel your legs start to shake, trying to twitch closed around his hands and only being stopped by Bucky‘s own knees.

His wrists move faster as your nails begin to dig crescent shapes into his arm, your walls spasm around his fingers, trying to push them out as you reach your high and cream all down his wrist.

„Easy“, Bucky smirks into your ear as you blink away the white stars from your vision.

Once you can see clearly enough you look up at your boyfriend who’s dressed only in his boxers, cock fully hard just underneath them. You go to push yourself towards him but are stopped by sticky hands at your wrists.

„I’m not done.”

„But this was just-“, you start, until your words are caught in your throat when you see the tip of Buckys cock peek out from his sweats.

„What’d i say, doll?”, he tugs you back towards him, pressing his lips to your neck with no regard for Steve who only sits a few inches away.

„I’m teaching my best friend some stuff, you just gotta lay down and take it, understand?“

You’re instructed to get on your hands and knees, after failed attempts to get your boyfriend to object- to say anything, you comply. Face burning hot as you press it into the mattress in front of where he stands, ass propped high where Bucky kneels behind you.

„It’s the same thing with your dick.”

Your legs involuntarily twitch as his tip pats against your still sensitive clit.

„Just gotta know where to press against.”

You’re so embarrassed, being used like this, so embarrassed by the fact that you’re enjoying it so much. So embarrassed that your boyfriend, that Steve, is watching his best friend sink his cock into you and he’s not saying a word. So embarrassed at the sounds you’re making into the sheets at the feeling of a new stretch.

You’re so embarrassed until Buckys hand grips the back of your neck and pulls you up on your knees, your back against his chest. Your eyes meet with Steve’s for a split second before they’re rolling back once again when Bucky thrusts into you, the tip of him perfectly pressing against that same doughy spot inside of you.

„S-Steve“, you moan out breathily, the pace he sets is brutal, abusing your g-spot and making you hot all over.

A sting rises on your cheek as Bucky uses his metal hand to smack you lightly.

„Wrong name, doll“, he warns, but you can’t help the way it rolls off your tongue again at the overwhelming pleasure.

There’s another smack and then his cold metal fingers dig into your jaw, his hips slowing down as he speaks.

„Who’s fucking you right now?”

Buckys hips circulate, grinding up into you, pressing the head of him impossibly deep into your g-spot.

„Who is it that just made you cum?”

You’re whining pathetically and grinding back into him so desperately each time he pulls slightly back.

„Who’s name should you be saying right now?” The heat between your legs becomes unbearable and you nearly cave in on yourself. You squeeze your eyes shut, the burn of embarrassment resurfacing on your face for the umpteenth time, surely if Steve had a problem he would’ve said something by now.

„Bucky, fuck, B-Bucky!“, you moan.

You know it’s impossible, you swear you can hear the smirk in his hum when you finally reply.

„Now look at him and say it.”

He moves your head to where you have no choice but to stare into the cloudy eyes that look back at you so eagerly. You try to bite your lip, tears threatening to flood your eyes, but none make it to fruition once Bucky starts his brutal pace once more.

If not for the arm holding you against the brunette men, you would’ve collapsed in on yourself from the wash of pleasure that shoots through you.

„Bucky!”, you moan again, a little short on words as if he had fucked you stupid already.

You think for a split second maybe Steve wants to go back on this, that he just wants you to be the one to speak up. But that split second is ended when Buckys fingers come back to your clit, drawing small shapes.

„I-i’m gonna-”, you feel the heat tightening in your stomach, a knot grasping together by only a few strings as white starts to seep into the edges of your vision. „I‘m-“

Just as fast it comes, it fades once Bucky pulls out completely, leaving your poor cunt desperately squeezing around nothing as that all too familiar whine leaves your lips. The one you’ve done for months more each time your boyfriend has done this same exact thing.

You try to turn your head, to see why he’d stopped, but the metal hand gripping your face just turns you back to the man in front of you. And you see it. Steves panting heavily and hand covered in his own cum just from seeing you meet another ruined end.

„Who would’ve thought mean old Stevie liked edging his pretty little girlfriend.” You hear Bucky chuckle into your ear before throwing you back into the pillows, hands making quick work of pushing your thighs up for him to slide in between.

You can still see your boyfriend starring back at you with lustful eyes.

„Hey“, another light slap is done against your cheek as Bucky lines himself up with your entrance. „Eyes on me, doll.”

He starts to sheathe himself in once again, slowly. You can feel the outline of his head, the throbbing thickness as it drags along your sticky walls.

„You’re lucky i’m not into that shit too“, he says, more to himself it seems when his eyes aren’t even on your face anymore but instead looking down at how your greedy cunt sucks him in.

„I like hearing how good you feel, so wet for me…“

Bucky drops down to your ear, your knees hooked over his strong arms as he presses his hips into yours.

„Tell me,”

he repeats the grinding he did earlier, barely pulling his hips back just to roll them back into you, the hairs at the base off him scratching against your aching clit perfectly.

“tell me how good my cock feels, princess.”

He mocks the name Steve uses for you and it only sends a shiver down your spine, and apparently makes you clamp down on him by the way he curses low in your ear. He starts a new pace, one that’s slow and deep, something surprisingly sensual to be coming from Bucky. He‘s easily remembered where that spot is inside of you, that sends you curling up off the mattress, whining and shooting your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer.

„Tell me how fucking deep i am.“

You can’t do anything but moan out, your jaw dropping embarrassingly wide as you’re unable to do anything but just let your body feel. So overwhelmed with pleasure, you’re not sure you could answer him even if you really wanted to.

„That’s it, good girl, let me hear you.”

And you do, not that you wouldn’t have anyway. You let yourself get washed away in the tide of white hot that shoots through you when Bucky brings a thumb to your clit, picking up his pace slightly to fuck into your gspot perfectly and drag out your orgasm as long as he can.

Spitting out strings of curses and digging nail marks into your skin in the process.

When you finally start falling down from your high, you open your eyes to find Bucky leaned back on his haunches, stupid smirk still plastered across his face.

„Feels good to finally cum on a cock, huh?”

You think you might’ve actually answered that question, if you didn’t notice Steve now sitting at the side of the bed in some chair he picked from god knows where with his cock in his hand, pink tongue sliding across his lips as he looks back at you.

You want nothing more than to have him on top of you again, even if he was doing things intentionally befo- wait a second…

He did this… intentionally??

„Steve-“ you start to lean up but to no avail when Buckys hand pushes back at your chest.

“aht aht,” his hand slides up to the back of your neck, pressing you up into a kiss, his words full of fake offense as he speaks. „It’s unfair to leave me half finished, isn’t it?”

„Plus”, you feel his still hard cock stir inside you as he presses his hips flush against yours and grinds against you. His hands fall on either side of your head as he ducks down to nip at your collarbone, the top of his head nudging you to face your boyfriend once again.

It was too much, he was asking you to uproot your and your daughter’s life. But Andy had his practice going on. His law firm was finally getting on track after all these years, after all that hard work—the kind of hard work and sacrifice that led to your marriage’s untimely demise—if anyone’s asking you. That’s why Andy moving to Seattle was next to impossible.

You didn’t want to be the understanding one in the relationship. But everything he went through to get where he is—the divorce, losing you and his daughter, the exhaustion of it all—you didn’t want it to go in vain.

Of course, you didn’t exactly like the idea of moving. And it took a lot of convincing on Andy’s part because of course, it would. The man tried to make an effort for the first time in a long, long time and you wanted your daughter to have the constant presence of her father in her life.

So, you said yes. The decision to move was your Christmas gift to Andy and he was very happy with it.

Before the move was set in place, you applied for a job at one of Newton’s real estate firms, The White Stone Properties. It wasn’t that difficult to get hired, you were good at what you did.

Andy helped with everything, he was being attentive, like he was in the early years of your relationship and marriage. When you could tell you were his whole world. You knew it was a picture-perfect dream, it could shatter any time. So, you didn’t expect anything else other than the help he willingly provided.

It’s been four months since the move. Newton is exactly how it was before you left all those years ago.

The neighbours are always up in each other’s business. The group of moms and the trophy wives are always up and at it since the early morning hours, with their power walking, and the bake sales and HOA meetings. And the mind-numbing gossip that should probably rot their brains but it only makes their tongues sharper. And people are far too judgmental, especially of a divorced, single mother.

Men, married men are trashy, perverts who chance a look at your ass every time you walk past them in the grocery store, it ain’t nothing new. At least they do it discreetly, keeping in mind the fear they have of their wives.

Oh and what else? Right, the summers are too fucking hot.

But hey, Newton’s a great place to raise kids.

It’s Andy’s weekend to spend time with your daughter. You’d made plans with your only one good friend in the neighbourhood—Amelia. She lives just down a few houses with her partner.

The reason you both bonded so well? Your mutual hatred for the suburban moms around you. All it took was one jibe thrown by your new BFF at the pretentious Vice President of the HOA Counsel and it was a done deal. You laughed at her joke, while everyone else gasped in offence. The two of you’ve been inseparable since then. Hang out whenever you can find the time.

You had created your own book club—two members only, where you exclusively read horror novels and watched trashy daily soaps when the books got boring and the wine made your senses tingly. She was baffled when you told her the reasons for your move. But didn’t pass judgement, only tried to be a good friend because you needed one more than anything.

She was good company.

It had been a while since you’d hung out, with both of your jobs and families keeping you busy. So as soon as Andy messaged you that he had cleared his schedule for the weekend, you fired up a text to Amelia, telling her book club night was on.

This particular Saturday was hot. The kind of hot where the sweat would make your clothes stick to your body. The kind of hot where you wanted to stick your head in the freezer. The kinda hot that makes you wanna take off all your clothes and lay down on the cool marble floors.

So imagine his surprise, when Andy arrives sharp at 9 am to pick up your daughter, when he sees you wearing nothing but a cotton white sundress with little green flowers when you greet him at the door, nursing a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

He’s plenty surprised, he assured you with a simple once over. Cerulean eyes racking up your body, staring a little longer at your chest—nipples pebbled under the thin material—before his eyes meet with yours.

He pursed his lips as you stepped aside to let him in.

“Hey,” His deep voice close to your ear. Andy greets you in half-a-hug, palm lingering at your lower back, lips pressed delicately on your cheek. A small smile on his pink lips set between his beard, “You smell nice.”

“I do?” You ask rhetorically with a perfect smirk on your perfect lips. Running a hand down his bicep, eyeing the loose orange cotton button he wore. You leave his embrace keeping some distance.

This kind of greeting isn’t completely unusual, you always have that comfortable energy around each other. It took a long way to reach where you are after the divorce and the fighting and the partial hatred towards each other during the initial stages—like any other couple, you were constantly at each other’s throats.

But your little girl brought you together as a team. You were still parents, still had responsibilities that you both needed to uphold. So, with time and patience, you developed a sense of mutual respect—for her sake.

“I guess my birthday gift to you finally came out of that drawer of yours?” He asks, a bit intrigued as he follows you into the living room, pocketing his hands in his khaki pants.

Since the divorce, you’ve never used the gifts he gives you. That’s the one immature thing you’ve allowed yourself to keep. It’s something between a woman and her ex-husband. You know it’s petty. But the fact that he never stopped gifting you expensive artifacts on your birthday kind of warms your heart.

“You gifted that perfume to me?” Another question he didn’t need an answer to, he knows you know. “I don’t remember. I just ran out of my bottle.”

“Well, it suits you.” Ever the gentleman, he doesn’t call you out. A knowing smile on his face and he juts his chin to your coffee mug. “You got more of that?”

“Yeah, help yourself.”

“Woke up late, didn’t have the time to get the pot going this morning. Avery and I have got a big day planned ahead of us.”

“Well, you’re gonna need more than just coffee, then. I made danishes.”

Andy sighs, grateful for your generosity. Grabs you at arm’s length and presses a noisy kiss on your cheek, “You’re God sent!”

You sigh in relief, watching him disappear around the corner.

The only thing this whole ‘respecting each other’ ordeal does is blur the lines between both your personal boundaries, especially since you moved here. The two of you have gotten too comfortable with each other. You don’t let yourself dwell on it too much. But then he has to look at you a certain way. Be all touchy, feely. Kiss you on the cheek and smile all bright and beaming.

Bringing up your past like that when he got a whiff of your perfume? Make you wonder if he just flirted with you?

Yeah, you try not to think too much.

You dust it off, as you’re about to head over to the laundry room to get started on your chores when the doorbell rings. Walking over to the entrance, you open the door to reveal a delivery man—a rather handsome one at that.

He greets you with a charming smile, while he hands a package to you. It’s the last bit of your belongings that you’d left with your mother before the big move. She’d finally gotten the time to mail it to you.

“That’s a pretty big package.”

“Excuse me?” You nearly drop the box as you bend down to place it next to the door.

“I—I’m sorry didn’t mean it like that… I’ve never seen you around,” he fails miserably to cover up his innuendo.

“Oh?” you ask, feigning surprise, “Must’ve been ‘cause I just moved here.”

“Should have known, a pretty woman like you moves to town.” Is this how men in Newton flirt? You wanted to roll your eyes but you gave him a fake smile instead.

“Is there some sort of an alert system they have for this kind of thing at the postal office?”

He chuckles at your silly joke, takes the signing sheet from you. “I guess I just wanted an excuse to call you pretty.”

“I’m very flattered, thank y—”

Words die on your tongue when you feel a hand around your waist. You blink up, astonished. Andy’s by your side, a coffee cup in his hand, a little crumb of the pastry stuck to his beard. You can’t resist the urge to wipe it away, so you do. But you notice he’s glaring at the guy standing out the door. Pulling you closer into his body.

He pins him down, jaw set tight, you could tell, even with the thick beard covering it.

“They pay you to flirt with married women on the job?” Andy snarks, chin jutting up, nostrils flaring slightly, fucking definition of Alpha Male. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, wiggling in his grip you jab him in the stomach lightly.

“Andy,” it’s a light scolding tone.

“‘Cause I don’t think so.” Andy doesn’t budge, keeps himself rooted to the entryway, “One phone call to your office supervisor about customer harassment and you’ll be fired.”

“I—I was just talking,” The man fumbles, taking a step back.

“You really think I give a shit?”

“Oh, god.” You mumble, shaking your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. You remove Andy’s grip on your waist, “Leave him alone.” Click the door shut. Shouldering past his body, you walk to the other side of the room.

“What was that?” The amusement in your question and your smile makes him pull back.

“You had to wear that, didn’t you?” His voice cuts through your own, as he pumps his eyebrows, giving your attire another glance.

“It’s like a hundred degrees outside if you didn’t notice.” You scoff, “What is the matter with you, Andy?”

“What is the matter with me?” He retorts, as annoyed with you as he is, you still notice a hint of a smile, “What is the matter with you?”

“Andy, he was harmless. You didn’t have to go and threaten the man’s job.” You reasoned with him, “And I didn’t like what you said to him. I’m not a married woman. I’m not your wife.”

“I know,” He sighs, rolls his shoulder and takes a few steps to close the gap between you two, “But when I see another man flirting with you right in front of me? I gotta do something about it, honey.”

“Don’t be like that,” You stop him where he is with a hand on his chest.

“Like what?”

“Jealous, when I’m not yours to be jealous over.” Your eyes twinkle with so much light, he can’t help but try to get inside your head.

“You prance around the neighbourhood in these kinda dresses, too?” His question is paired with a raised eyebrow, fingers teasing the soft material at the hem that lies on the top of your thighs.

“Hmm, wouldn’t you like to know?” A troublesome smile on your lips; you don’t make a move to step away. Eyes on his arm, on the protruding veins under the pale skin and light dusting of hair.

“I would,” A condescending nod of his head, “That’s why I’m asking.”

“I’ll wear what I want.” Doesn’t answer his question but he decides not to pursue it.

“You wearing anything underneath this thing right now?”

It was a dangerous game he was playing and for some reason you let him—maybe ‘cause this is the only action you got in months. Maybe ‘cause his fingers skim up the skin of your bare thigh, reaching just under the hem of your skirt. Maybe ‘cause you were ready to throw caution to the window. Almost ready.

You meet his eyes finally, finding he was observing you this whole time.

A smirk on your lips, “I don’t think you reserve the right to know.”

Schooled him, used the lawyer jargon, butchering them completely and yet it brings a chuckle up his throat.

Just then, you hear soft footsteps walking down the stairs. Andy respectfully steps away and turns to face Avery.

“Daddy!”

“Hey, peanut.” The change in tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you. It’s amusing how that deep voice pulls something low in your belly. And yet the next moment, that softness he uses for your daughter makes it flutter all the same. Such a fucking contrast—you clear your throat and shake yourself out of your thoughts.

Andy meets her halfway up the stairs, gathering her small figure in his arms. “Are you ready to have a fun day with daddy?”

“Yes!” Her own arms go around his neck, as he carries her down.

“I’ll drop her off tomorrow, I guess?”

You pick the overnight bag resting on the couch and hand it over to Andy. His eyes linger on you a moment longer than necessary before you nod and walk over to the door.

“No extension for bedtime,” You warn Andy, “No matter how much this little monster pouts. I know how you can give in very easily.” You lightly pinch your daughter’s nose, bringing her down to kiss her cheek.

Andy clicks his lips, a mocking tone in his words, “What can I say? I like to spoil my girls.”

“Go.” You deadpan, shaking your head.

“Have fun, baby!” You wave a hand as Andy opens the door of his car, strapping her in the car seat along with placing her bag in the back, too.

“We will!” He yells back.

“I was talking to her!” You hear Avery’s giggles as she waves a hand at you, you press a kiss to your hand sending it her way.

One last look at you as Andy opens the door of the car and you wiggle your fingers, saying bye to him before you shut your door.

The wood is suddenly cold against your skin as your back meets the door. Sighing you close your eyes and the only image that flashes in your mind is the look Andy gave you. Dark eyes, pools of coral blue. Like he wanted to swallow you whole, then and there.

Like he was staring right through your little dress and into your soul. Ready to devour you.

You tried not to give it much thought. What good would it cause, thinking of your ex-husband like that? But goddamn him and those bedroom eyes he kept making at you. And the way he possessively held you close. Made you crave him in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

But it’s not just today—albeit the circumstances and the choice of outfit. Ever since moving, seeing him on a regular basis was your new normal. And he’s seen you being a mess around the house. And yet he always looked at you like he was seconds away from pouncing on you. Even for those countless times when you didn’t give a shit about your appearances.

The heat was crippling, you needed to get out of this fucking dress and take a cold shower to freeze your nerves. Clothes piled in the middle of the bathroom, you step under the shower, turning on the tap.

You don’t even wait for the water to get started. The whole point is to fight off the heat. You shiver at the first onslaught of the cold, biting spray. A steady pressure building on your blazing skin to numb it completely. Pushing your hair away from your forehead, you face the showerhead hoping the water washes off your thoughts. But it’s when you rub your thighs together you feel the sticky warmth coating the insides—the heat started right there; right when Andy arrived at your door.

Your hands slip down your neck, past your breasts. A shudder passing through when your fingers skim over your sensitive nipple, following the rivulets of water cascading down your body.

You whimper softly when you reach your mound. God, you don’t know why you’re fighting this. If you could just drive him away from your mind, you’d be happy to touch yourself, relieve the storm building in your guts. But you can’t.

You don’t want to think about Andy. You don’t want to think how he used to make you feel. How he touched you, how he held you. How he—

You don’t want to go down that rabbit hole.

But the shower didn’t help with getting rid of Andy and the thoughts that tagged along with him. Maybe, if you busy yourself with some chores? There’s a week’s worth of laundry and you could clean out the backyard. Shop online for some home decor items. Drown him out with music, watch trashy TV shows and get caught up on the most recent novel. Go grocery shopping for some snacks for your book club with Amelia.

Except all you did during this whole time was think about him.

Your friend arrives around 7 pm, her enthusiastic attitude and a toothy smile greeting you. You two of you catch up on your week, while wine is being poured and snacks are shuffled in large bowls. Settling on the couch, you both get to reading. Sitting on opposite ends, her feet nudging your calves.

You’re trying to concentrate on the printed words, but you’ve been on page 67 ever since you opened the book. And Amelia noticed that.

“What’s wrong with you? You haven’t mentioned anything about how much the book sucks in twenty minutes.”

“I—nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Girl,” She kicks your calf, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

One perfectly arched auburn brow and it means get straight to the point. You know better than to beat around the bush when you’re with Amelia.

“It’s Andy.”

“What did he do now?”

“Nothing! He did nothing. I don’t know what he’s playing at but every time I see him, I just wanna—”

"Stick a knife in his throat?” Reading too much horror has gone into her head.

“What? No!” You exclaimed, “I just wanna jump his bones.”

“Are you saying that you wanna get back together with him?”

“No, this is just physical. Nothing inherently emotional.”

“So, you just wanna get laid?” She shrugged, “There are plenty of straight, eligible men in Newton for that.”

“I don’t think anyone would cut it.”

“C'mon Andy can’t be that good. It’s just some plain ol’ hetero sex.” She chortled.

“Andy is… good.” You clear your throat in an attempt to let this conversation pass.

“How good?”

You should know better, Amelia likes to prod.

“Pretty good.” You bite the inside of your cheek, stealing a sip of your pink wine. Your cheeks heat up from the sudden rush. The images that flash in your mind were far from just pretty good.

How would you even begin to explain sex with Andy?

“He was—is incredible in bed.” All you needed was a little liquor courage. “Always, always treated me like I was some goddess. God, the foreplay was an experience with him. He didn’t half-ass anything. All he had to do was give me one look and I’d feel my insides melting. We just had this great chemistry from the beginning. It was never enough with him. God, the countless parties we left because one of us just drove the other insane like we just had to have each other. And I don’t even wanna get started on his—” you point a finger at your crotch.

“Oh god,” She shakes her head, chuckling, then she joins her hands together, “Tell me when—” And she starts increasing the distance between them.

You run a hand over your face, blushing madly. Grabbing a pillow you smack her straight in the face until she stops that action.

“Unbelievable.” You giggle.

"Okay, babe, jokes aside.” She straightens up, “I gotta be honest with you, it’s a bad idea.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

After Amelia leaves, you continue watching the movie you’d put on for a while but soon decide to go to bed. It’s around 11 pm when you’re done with your nighttime routine. When you head over to your dresser to get something to wear you stop right in your tracks. Glare at your empty bed.

Something about it frustrates you. Tells you sleep isn’t going to come easy tonight when all you want to do is shut down the world. Shut down your brain and fall into a blissful sleep.

Bliss, that’s what you need.

You groan and untie the rob you wore. Dropping it on the floor, you climb onto the bed. Falling face first you muffle a scream into the pillow, it’s more like a whine. Irritated one, at that.

Andy’s face flashing in your mind, and you don’t even try to block him out at this point. You’re tired of trying to come out of that trance.

When you close your eyes, all you remember are the times he took you apart. You miss it, the fucking. The manhandling, the bruises he left every time. The way he touched you, ate you like it was his last time. The way he whispered dirty secrets when he was buried deep inside you.

A weak moan and you’re shuffling to sit in a comfortable position. Back resting on the plush headboard and the pillows. Your warm hand immediately settles on your breast, pulling and pinching at the soft flesh, nipples hardening in seconds. While the other hand snakes down your body, skin scorching hot under your fingertips. And it makes you wonder.

When was the last time you did this?

The fact that you don’t even remember is enough to make you forget everything. You’ve been hot and bothered since morning, a little relief couldn’t hurt anyone. And if you’re thinking about your ex-husband, then no one has to know.

You spread your legs, digits centimetres away from where you want them most. A soft sigh parting your lips when you tweak your nipple and finally dip between your folds.

And you’re wet. Goddamn, you’re wet.

And you wish it were Andy who was touching you. His fingers that, were spreading your wetness all over your cunt. His fingers, that were circling your nub. Thick and expert digits that were entering your throbbing heat.

You mumble a soft plea, and it disappears into the dimly lit room. No one to heed it but you.

Your stomach clenches when you start pumping your fingers in and out, slow and steady. Your head drops back and you moan his name. God, you’re so desperate for a release. So lost in thought. It makes you sob, fingers brush over that delicate spot inside you. Walls fluttering around them, eyes pinching shut, more broken moans spending out of your lips. Suddenly, you turn around, flip yourself over. You grab a pillow and nestle it between your thighs, fisting it. While your other hand grips the headboard hard enough to tear through the soft material.

And then you start grinding, curses spilling from your mouth. Head thrown back as you find yourself willingly losing a battle to the pleasure building inside you. There’s a wet patch on the pillow, growing bigger and bigger, the more your arousal seeps out. Your clit catches the soft fabric of the pillow, making you moan louder than before. Enough to wake up the whole neighbourhood.

You’re such a mess, tears burning behind your eyelids, lip trapped between your teeth, hips unrelenting as you chase your high. You’re right there, right on the precipice.

Soft whispers of “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon—”

That’s when your phone rings, bringing you out of your reverie.

“Oh, come on!” You scream, probably popping a vein in your neck. Part of you wants to ignore it but a much bigger part of you thinks—what if it’s an emergency? Panting you scramble to pick up the device from the nightstand. Swiping hard to pick up when you see it’s Amelia’s wife.

“Hi?” You hope you don’t sound as breathless as you feel.

It’s your friend’s voice that greets you, “Hey, I think I forgot my phone at your place. I’ll get there in a few minutes to get it. Hope you weren’t sleeping.”

No, I wasn’t. But I was busy taking care of some business.

Sighing heavily, you respond, “Yeah, I’ll be at the door.” You end the call and fall back on your bed, bouncing a few times with the spring. You close your eyes and try not to think of how close you were to your impending orgasm. Try to collect yourself before getting up to put on some clothes.

Yeah, sleep is definitely not coming easy tonight.

“Now you’re doing this just to spite me, honey.”

That’s what Andy greets you with when you open the door for him. Your daughter is asleep, cheek pressed to his shoulder as he walks past you. You take her bag from his hand to help him unload some of the weight. You laugh inwardly, closing the door as you stare at his back.

“Doing what?” You ask, feigning surprise. A sort of innocence on your face that doesn’t go unnoticed when he looks at you over his shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t wear that on purpose.” He says, eyes racking over your figure, clad in another one of your sundresses. A blue one, with little white butterflies.

“It’s still hot,” you roll your eyes, padding over to him. Your lousy excuse makes him chuckle. Both of you fall in step as you make your way up to your daughter’s room. Andy kneels to lay her down on the bed, tucking her in while you wait at the door. Shoulder resting on the frame, arms across your chest.

There’s something so precious about watching these two. A smile pulls up at your lips. Your move to be closer to Andy has definitely made him an attentive father. He really stepped up when it came to her. And you’re happy he’s been living up to his promise. That’s the only way this whole arrangement can be justified.

A feather-light touch removes the hair from her face and Andy leans down to kiss her forehead. Rubbing soothing circles there, whispering, “Goodnight, peanut. Love you.”

He walks over to you, a heartwarming smile on his lips. “She is out like a light.”

“Yeah,” he nods, as the two of you step outside. “She had a busy day.”

“What did you two do?”

You’re both walking down the stairs. For some reason, your heart is jumping up to your throat with each descend. He takes a lead, and he’s already at the foot of the steps. While you’re a few steps up, an arm and hip resting on the railing.

“Oh, you know, took her fishing.”

You knew what their plans were. What kind of parent would you be if you didn’t? Andy had informed you about it. He had rented his colleague’s cabin for the weekend since Avery had been insisting on going fishing.

“Finally!” You pat a hand on your thigh, rolling your eyes. The exaggerated gesture made him chuckle.

“Yeah, she was very excited. Caught us some dinner. Today we went exploring in the woods. Just so you know, she has a big batch of pinecones in her backpack.” He said, “Then we watched Disney movies, not past curfew. We made a fine weekend out of it.”

“I’m glad you both had fun.” You smiled at him, taking a step down.

And it seemed like you were in some sort of a staring contest. Breath bated, gaze un-bated. When he licks his lip though, your eyes tail the movement. You unconsciously bite your own bottom lip.

Before you know it you’re talking—

“Would you like to stay for a drink?”

A sudden intake of a long breath on his part tells you he wasn’t expecting you to say that. It felt like aeons had passed before he nodded, pocketing the car keys you now noticed were already fiddling in his hands.

“Yeah.”

When you’re off the stairs and your back is to him, that’s when you release the breath you’d been holding. He follows you into the kitchen, close on your tail. Your small wine shelf is filled with expensive bottles, all thanks to your job—clients get very generous when you help them find their dream homes. You pick a good one for the two of you. Andy is standing near the sink, a rather respectful space between the two of you. Sadly, you’re going to have to close it since the wine glasses are on the cupboard next to him.

You hand him the bottle and a corkscrew, silently asking him to open it. While he does that, you open the doors of the cabinet and raise to your toe to grab the glasses.

And well, your dress manoeuvres a couple of inches up your legs. Andy can’t not notice it. The bottle nearly slips from his grip and he exhales a scoff that also sounds like a chuckle.

“What’s under that dress, sweetheart?”

Your eyes slightly widen, thankful that you’re not facing him.

A smile curls at your lips, “Just a little bit of sunshine.”

Andy’s hearty laugh plays out evoking a bunch of butterflies in your belly while you still try to reach up, failing when you barely brush over the foot of the glassware.

“God fucking damnit!” You hear a small clink sound when he places the bottle on the counter.

“Can’t reach the glasses?” He asks teasingly. You roll your eyes and make a move to step aside when you feel him turn, a hand goes around your waist while the other one rises up to get two glasses. “There.”

“Thanks,” You mutter, backing up.

“How do you normally reach ‘em?” Blue gaze dancing across your features, tone still mocking you. Though it’s all light-hearted.

“I use a stool, although I can’t find it, right now.”

Of course. The words are right on the tip of his tongue, but he holds them back. Not wanting to embarrass you further.

“Why don’t you settle down on the couch?” You suggest, “I’ll be right back.”

In the bathroom, you clasp the edge of the counter, staring at your reflection in disbelief. Shake your head at what you’re about to do.

“Am I really doing this?” You ask yourself, “This will not turn out well. Amelia will say ‘I told you so’. But do I really care?”

The dilation of your eyes gave you the answer. You splash some cold water on your face, to tame the heat a little bit. Wipe it with a towel and just as you squeeze the knob to open the door you stop.

“I am doing this.” Then you reach under your skirt and slip out of your underwear. They land right in the laundry basket.

There he is, sitting on your couch looking so fucking good in a pair of jeans stretching amazingly around his thighs and a grey henley taut around his broad chest and shoulders, defining his abs. Legs spread like he’s inviting you to sit on his thighs, one arm around the back of the couch, the other holding a glass of wine.

As you approach to sit at the far end of the sofa, he shifts closer to hand you the same glass. If there’s ever a question of who came onto who, what would be the answer?

Is it you? Because you asked him to stay for an innocent little drink.

Or is it him? Because he sat just a little closer when you meant to keep your distance.

“Thank you,” you take the delicate glass from his grasp, surprised that your hands weren’t shaking as they were when you walked into the living room. “And thanks again for taking her out this weekend.”

“You have to stop saying that, honey.” His smile is lazy as he takes a sip. “I’m her father, I’m supposed to be a co-parent.”

“I know, I just wanted to let you know that I’m glad to have you in our lives again.” You admitted, sitting comfortably with one of your legs folded under you, “I’m not going to lie, Andy, I was really scared about the move. About your commitment. But you haven’t given me a reason to be disappointed.”

“Honey, I promise, I’ll never disappoint either of you ever again.” He’d made this promise before, on that Christmas visit, and he made it now, too. Holding your gaze in a way that told you he’s sincere. “Are you still scared?”

I am, of what you’re doing to me. You bite that thought and kill it then and there. Swallowing it down with the wine.

“No, not anymore.” You purse your lips, “Newton’s beginning to feel like home again.”

“I’m glad.” He said, then pats his knuckles on your thigh—it’s innocent, he doesn’t linger. “Hey, you remember our first home here?”

“Oh, God, that shitty apartment!” You recall, a grin automatically pulling at your lips.

“Oh, man. We made some good memories there.”

“It was a nightmare, Andy! What are you talking about?” You laugh, “There was a shortage of water. Somehow all the lights used to switch off if we touched even on fucking button. Oh, the shouting neighbours! And did you forget about the raccoon problem?”

“Still, those were the best years of our relationship.” Those eyes, smiling, showing age. But all you could see was the younger version of him. “Don’t you think so?”

“Yes, they were.” You clear your throat.

Conversation flows and so does the wine. You don’t keep a count of it, you don’t think he is either. Somehow, you’re sitting even closer to him than before. Faces smiling and laughing, hearts thrumming with a pleasant buzz the wine provides. The two of you reminisce about the past—the good and happy memories.

And it’s so familiar. To be with him like this.

“I’ve missed this,” he says after retelling another funny story. The laughter has died down, only comfortable silence in the atmosphere. His pinky finger tickles yours to grab your attention, “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too,” you give the faintest of smiles, cheeks positively glowing with the effects of alcohol rushing to your face.

“Really?” There’s an edge to his voice, deep and you think, sad even.

“Yeah,” you rest your palm on the back of his, a gentle squeeze to assure him.

“Then how come you barely called me back when you were in Seattle?”

“Andy…”

“Shit, no. We’re having a good time.” He shakes his head, lowers his eyes. It tugs at your heart that you can’t provide him with an answer. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry.”

“I did miss you, Andy.” It’s better when the words are said rather than agreeing with them. You’re earnest and honest. “Some days were just too hard to go by without you. I missed you every day… but there were days when I needed you, really.”

“I—”

“—And I looked for you in our little angel’s face, in her eyes and it made me feel better.”

God, you’re making him fall in love with you all over again. Not that he ever stopped loving you. Fuck no. The reason why you separated wasn’t the fact that you fell out of love with each other. That’s what broke your hearts in the first place. Love never fizzled out.

Hand engulfed in yours, Andy tugs you a little closer, a little more. An emotion in his eyes that reminded you of all those times he looked at you with nothing but lust swimming in them.

“C’mere,” You almost don’t catch it but the next thing you know, his hand is on your waist, the other curling around your thigh helping you get up to straddle him. Lips meeting in a sudden kiss, hot and moulding perfectly. Fingers disappearing into his hair, soft brown locks that you longed to touch. Softer lips you were dying to kiss. He understands the urgency, because he felt it, too.

“What are we doing?” He chuckles into the kiss.

“I don’t know,” You pant, “Just let it happen, please, Andy.”

Tongue swiping into his mouth to taste the remnants of the wine. Easy moans muffled by each other. He holds you closer, tilts his head up to kiss you even deeper. But you don’t dare to sit on his thighs—hyper-aware of your bareness that will definitely rub on his crotch as soon as you make contact.

What if he pulls away? What if he decides he’s had too much wine? What if he regrets this kiss? As much as it hurts to think about it, it’s a possibility. You don’t want to embarrass yourself further by leaving a wet patch on him.

But then his hands slide down to your ass, grabbing your flesh through the dress, moaning when he realises nothing else lies beneath to cover you.

“Now I’m pretty sure you’re not wearing any panties, honey.” The hitch in your breath has him twitching in his jeans.

“Touch me and find out.” A hurried whisper, you take his hand, licking your lips, and guide it under the skirt. But he stops with a squeeze on your waist.

Oh, no. Here comes the rejection. You’ve made a fool of yourself—

“Honey, how drunk are you?”

Oh.

“Drunk enough to know that I want this,” You cup his cheek, caressing his scruffy cheek with your thumb.

“I just don’t want you to regret this.”

“I won’t, I swear.” You seal it with a kiss and he lets you show the way—to your pussy, to his heaven. “Touch me, please.”

“Christ,” he clenched his jaw at the first contact, forehead pressed onto yours as he relishes your slick folds, sticky and warm and God, it feels like he’s dreaming this entire thing. “You’re so wet, you’re soaking.”

You could only whimper in response, head falling onto his shoulder as he kept dragging his digits over your folds, coating them thoroughly with your wetness.

A deep chuckle resonates from his chest, “I wonder what made you so wet, honey?”

The fist that had his shirt in your grab came down in his chest a little forcefully. He laughs at your expense, pressing a kiss to your head.

“Andy…” you sob, “Don’t tease me, please.”

“Alright, I won’t tease ya.” He makes you look at him with a gentle hand on your cheek, bringing your lips down to meet him in a slow kiss—and it’s dizzying, your heart brimming. He kisses you like you were his all this time. Tongue once again prying your mouth open, touching the roof of it, runs along with your teeth, your tongue. Noses pressed uncomfortably, barely able to breathe but he can’t stop.

The idea of parting from you—it fucking scares him.

But then he’s sliding his fingers into your heat and you part away with a gasp. Your jaw hangs open, hand squeezing the back of his neck. The intrusion is familiar like he’s been doing this all this time. But he senses the tension in your thighs as you struggle to move.

“Relax for me, baby.” A reassuring squeeze to your ass from his hand under your dress. That’s all it takes.

He kisses you some more, pumping his fingers in and out. Knuckles dragging and stroking your walls. Your moans sound like his favourite song.

He groans at the wet noises your pussy makes, “Fuck, the number of times I thought about you, honey.” You mewl, add a slow roll of your hip, “Touched myself when I missed you too much.”

A soft sigh of his name, head tilting back and exposing your smooth neck. He sinks his teeth over the jumping vein there, plants sloppy, hot kisses up to the curvature of your jaw.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks, beard grazing the sensitive skin raw and red. Continues his job to fuck you with his fingers. You mindlessly nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “When was the last time you got off?”

“I don’t remember…” You swivel your hips, unaware of the words slipping out of you. It’s all your hindbrain, it takes over your tongue for you. “Long time ago.”

“Last time you touched yourself?”

“Last night…” again, it’s your hindbrain that responds.

It’s when his movements stop and his fingers leave your soaping cunt that you come to your senses and realise what you just said. Groaning into his neck, you’re ashamed to meet his eyes. You don’t know why.

“Who’d you think of?”

“Andy—”

“Who did you think of?”

Oh, God, he’s making you face him again.

“You, okay? I thought of you.” And somehow his pupils dilate even further. Pitch black and you want them to consume you.

It all escalates from there. He growls, low and feral, grabs you by the back of your neck. Mouths clash once again, and this time it’s frenzied. Lips tearing each other apart, teeth knocking, breath sucking. His hands travel up your bare back. The warmth seeping into your flaming hot skin. Deft fingers undo the tie at the base to rid you of your dress. God, this fucking dress. You may be innocent of your crimes of wearing it yesterday, but you knew what you were doing tonight.

The way it left nothing to his imagination. He couldn’t drive that thought away until he left your house.

The dress pool around your waist, nothing barring him from your body. But he sits back, as mesmerizing as your breasts to his hungry eyes are, he remains put. Though he won’t stop staring at them. Nipples hardened, chest heaving as the sudden cool air washes over them.

“You were needy, weren’t you?” He asks with a patronizing hum. Gaze meeting your own, “Touching yourself, moaning my name? Did you come?”

“I couldn't—” you shake your head. Goosebumps erupting on your skin when he placed a warm palm on your breast, pinched your nipple. “Andy…”

“Poor baby,” Again with that condescending tone.

This is the Andy you were hoping he brings out. The one who teases you with his words alone. The one who tells you how much of a needy little thing your cunt could be—fuck, yes, she’s needy. You’re not going to be discreet about it.

“How did you do it?” His question makes you blink in confusion, “Use your pretty little fingers? Or did you use a toy?”

“I don’t have a toy.” He smirks, waiting for you to tell him. Heat crawls up your neck, all the way to your cheeks, you timidly mumble, “I used a pillow.”

“A pillow?” A bigger, coquettish smile set amongst his beard, he licks his kiss bitten lips. Lifts one of your legs to slot the hard muscle of his jeans-clad thigh between yours and makes you sit on it. “Better than a pillow?”

A rushed breath later you start grinding, “God, yes!”

So much better than your soft pillows. The worn-out material is still rough against your aching core as you give it all you have. Rolling your hips with a conviction you’ve never felt before. All you think of is how you couldn’t come the other night. Crying out when your clit met the fabric. Burying your face into his neck.

“You’re gonna make a mess, sweetheart?” You hiccup in response.

“Gotta work harder,” He says, and then you hear a ripping sound of cloth—it makes you stop. Looking down, you see your dress lying in shreds around him. “Sorry, it was far too sexy on you.”

“Andy!” With a sharp smack on your ass, he has you gasping and grinding once again. Like a fucking machine that has an on and off switch.

Pulling you closer, he leans down to capture your breast in his mouth, warm and inviting. His beard, coarse and biting. Rubbing your tender flesh raw all the while laving his tongue over it, soothing the burn. The other one meets the unyielding roughness of his palm, squeezing hard, fingers digging into the supple flesh, and tweaking the nipple almost to the point of pain.

But you’ll take it. You’ll accept the pain because it comes with pleasure, too.

You missed him so much. And it’s so good to be wanted again by him when no one else has been able to make you feel the way he does.

It doesn’t take much after that, you roll your hips a few more times. Grind the bundle of nerves. Your walls clenching and unclenching around nothing—and you’re coming within seconds. Removing his face away from your chest, you kiss him again to muffle the loud moan just about to escape you. Andy makes you shift back, hands on your hips and eyes on the mess you made on his thigh.

“Perfect.” You’re probably far from it, but his heated gaze on your naked expanse forces you to agree with him.

You get off his lap to stand on shaky legs, thighs burning with exhaustion.

“We’re far from done, Mr Barber.” He takes the hand you offered. Although he knows you can’t physically pull him, he gets up on his own.

A smile on his lips as he trails behind you. He grabs your waist, steals a few kisses on your neck and shoulder. The delightful giggle that bubbles up to your lips makes his heart burst with joy. How he missed that sound. How he missed making you laugh.

You’re halfway to your bedroom when Andy stops.

“I don’t have protection.”

You smirk at him over your shoulder, a sexy bite of your lip, “Don’t worry about that.”

“If you say so, honey.”

Soon, you’re in your bed while he’s still standing at the foot of it. There’s something deeply exciting about the fact that you’re completely naked, while all his clothes are intact. But he should hurry up and get out of them.

“Strip, now.” The commanding tone is such a turn on, he grunts while palming the tent in the confines of his jeans.

While discarding his shirt, Andy asks, “What’s something that you always wanted to try in bed?”

“That we never did?”

He nods. His question makes you ponder as you rise on your elbows. There are a lot of things you and Andy have done in bed and well, in public, too. It really makes you work your brain when you get to thinking while he’s getting out of his jeans and boxers.

Your eyes land on his cock, and it looks achingly hard, flushed pretty pink at the tip. Veins adorning it. The head is leaking and he touches himself for the first time tonight, lips parting in a languid moan because he’s throbbing and sensitive.

God, you missed that cock. Wondrous, thick and just big enough for you.

“Honey?”

A knowing smile shot at you that says gotcha.

“Huh?” You were staring. “Right!”

Eyes roaming around his face instead of focusing on his cock and then it clicks. There actually is something you’ve never tried with Andy.

“Lie down,” You said, getting up. “On your back.”

He doesn’t question you, just goes with it. He sighs when the soft sheets meet his back, settling amongst the mountain of pillows. You straddle his waist once again, dropping yourself on his dick to grind down on him. He curses under his breath, holding you to stop your movements. If you’re ever going to finish what you’re about to say, then you shouldn’t tease him like this. But you remove his hands and place them above his head. Biceps flexing as you do so.

“Don’t move ‘em.”

A dangerously low chuckle that makes your insides tingle, “Yes, ma’am.”

You continue rubbing yourself, coating him in your wetness. He jerks his hips to meet yours but you pin with a look. Some things never change, he thinks to himself.

Eyes roaming the stretch of his broad chest, covered in a coarse dusting of neat hair. Specks of red blanketing him in a flush all the way up to his neck and under his beard. The flimsy silver chain he wears lies between the hollow of his collarbones. Your hands tracing the muscles, the hard ridges; anticipation is driving him crazy. But he waits.

You lean down to what he thinks is to kiss him, but instead your hot breath fans over his ear, teeth playfully biting the shell.

“I wanna ride your face,” Andy sighs as soon as the words come out of your mouth. Eyes closed, repeating them in his head one more time. When you straighten up to gauge his reaction, you’re met with such a wide smile.

“By all means,” Hands resting under his head, the cock-sure grin never leaving him. You roll your eyes playfully, dragging your knees up and up and up until your cunt is hovering right above his face.

“You’ll tell me if I’m suffocating you?” Doubt fizzling your muddled thoughts, now that you are where you want to be.

“Just sit on my face, honey.” He runs his smart mouth.

Oh well, you’re about to shut him up.

The first swipe of his tongue, the first kiss of his lips on your heated pussy, leaves you gasping. From there on, you grab the frame of the headboard in one hand, the other clutching at his hair and then once again, you’re grinding your heat—only this time on his face. Your thighs are aching from before but when Andy readily heeds your request, you can’t say no.

His gorgeous face was meant to be sat on. You don’t know how the two of you didn’t think of doing this before. His beard chafes the tender skin of your inner thighs, burning so good—you sob between your ragged breaths.

“That feel good, honey?”

Otherworldly, spectacular, fan-fucking-tastic.

But all you can manage is a whimper, stomach pulling and fluttering as you barely meet his lips. His tongue grazes over your folds, you’re suddenly very squirmish. Shy, even.

Andy smirks under you, hands grabbing your ass, moulding the globes before he fimrly pulls you down on his mouth. Tongue flattening to lick a broad strip between your folds. A scream of his name, head thrown back in ecstasy. Pink lips sucking at your clit, pink tongue rolling it teasingly. He’s always been good at that, always been generous when it comes to giving you earth-shattering orgasms with his mouth alone.

Groaning against you as a new wave of slick coats his taste buds, Andy slowly shakes his head, side to side, making your thighs clench around his face. Sucks your clit, flicking it, too. Spanks your ass to really get you going. You shamelessly rock your cunt on his face, like a kitten high on catnip. No room for inhibitions.

Soft grunts emitted from his end, needy whimpers from yours. Andy opens his eyes, which he never realised when he closed them, to look at you. Parted lips and a delicate frown between your eyebrows—all your focus on seeking yet another high.

When Andy asked what’s something you wanted to try, what he didn’t catch was the “we never did” end of your response.

You have sat on a face before. Back in Seattle with a one night stand. The man had blonde hair and blue eyes, physic as closely as your partly drunken mind could compare to Andy. However, he was missing the beard.

That man was the best sex you’d had in years after separating from Andy. So, the fact that you couldn’t remember his name was kinda eating at you. Even while you were rubbing yourself on your gorgeous ex-husband right now.

You feel yourself edging closer, your overworked thighs shaking and ready to give out. Forehead resting on the headboard, you cry out when he asks if you’re close. His nose nudges the hood of your clit before he catches it between his lips, sucking wildly. The added nip hurtling you straight towards another release.

Then something flashes in your memory. And the moment it does, a strange name is tumbling out of your mouth before you could bite your tongue—

Like a light bulb went off above your head. Your eyes widen, palm clamping your mouth shut with a gasp.

When a name other than his graces his ears, Andy pulls away. He pushes you to sit on his torso. The tip of his flushed nose, his mouth and beard glistening with your arousal. He’s quick to move under you. Flips the two of you over. Dark, glimmering eyes tracing your entire face.

“Did you just moan another man’s name?” His eyes narrowed slits, as he settles over you.

The dark room masks your tiny smirk but he can tell you’re not sorry for what you just did.

“So what if I did?”

Oh, you’re such a minx.

“What would you do if I’d said another woman’s name?”

“I’ll be very mad. Ask you to leave.” Curt. Straightforward. Confident.

“Shouldn’t I leave since you just did that?” He backs away from you, thighs spreading, cock hard and resting on his torso, his body high and mighty casting a shadow upon you.

“It’s really up to you, Andy.” Look who’s condescending now.

You giggled, moving your palms tantalizingly from your knees to your inner thighs, as you opened them wide. His eyes follow. God, you’re wet and dripping down there. Invitingly, so. Like a moth to a flame, he wants to bury his face between your legs once again. “Do you wanna leave?”

Does he really care about his ego?

He answers his own question when he growls lowly. Partly annoyed with himself, partly with you. But he’s wholly devoted to this night.

He’s pushing your legs further apart, fingers dig into the muscles of your thighs marking them no doubt before his face is flushed against your heat. Eating you with a newfound fervour. Like he wants to wipe the existence of any other man who’s ever been here. Between your thighs. Hands, mouth, dick. Everything.

Every trace is gone as he makes you scream and cry and moan. Wrecks your body from the inside out. Back arching and hips thrashing against the sheets. Moving away when he sucks your cunt in his mouth ravenously. You close your thighs around his head but he growls like an animal in heat. His hard, broad shoulders keeping your legs apart, giving your muscles a painful stretch—it fucking hurts but so does his pride. So you let him have his way. It only costs you when he rips his mouth from you right before you are about to come apart.

His hard stare is enough to shut you up before you even try to voice your complaint. He quickly separates from your pussy, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Then he’s switching positions once again, handling you in a way that has both of you kneeling. You’re facing the wall opposite the bed, back to his chest. Arms behind, locked at your elbows as he lodges an arm between your back and hands. Chest pushed out. The stretch is uncomfortable but you awakened that dominant side in him when you said someone else’s name in bed.

“You’ve really hurt my feelings, honey.” Cock rubbing between your ass. He holds the base of it, bites down on your shoulders.

“Please—”

“I don’t think begging for my cock is enough,” he grumbles, lining himself with your soaking folds, running it along them.

“But I should fuck you until you pass out,” he cups your jaw, turning your face to lick inside your mouth. The thick head of his cock is entering your heat. And he’s sliding home in one fluid motion.

Fuck, your cunt feel like his homecoming.

Gripping him so tight he feels himself swelling impossibly hard inside you. Swallowing him again and again as he picks up a steady rhythm. He’s fucking you longingly. Grunting right next to your ears, touching and grabbing everywhere his free hand can reach.

And then he’s fucking you hard and fast. You’re left to take the brunt of his hips meeting your ass at a punishing pace. Thick thighs rapidly slapping against the back of yours. The only sound in the room apart from your sighs.

“What’s my name?”

A resounded chuckle leaves your lips at that, Andy slows down suddenly, plunging deep, punching the air out of your lungs with each thrust. It’s slow and hard, now. Slow and so fucking hard—there’s no way you could utter a single word, throat choked up every time he bottoms out.

“Whats my fuckin’ name, honey?” He pops open your jaw with one hand, mouth parting. Fingers rubbing your clit in a way that contrasts his pace, fast and slippery, bringing you right towards the edge and you’re about to go hurtling headfirst—

He stops, you scream, “Andy!”

“That’s right.” He pants, “I expect you to say my name when I’m balls deep inside your pussy.” He begins pumping once again, more like grinding his hips against your ass, coarse chest hair, damp and rubbing over the smooth plains of your back, he pulls you taut against his body, moulding you together.

“I expect you to be screaming it so loud your next-door neighbours should think you’re in real danger, sweetheart,” he grunts, a single sound of skin clapping against skin rings around. His hot breath near the shell of your ears brings a shiver down your body when he speaks, voice deep, relaxed. “Now, will you do that? Or do I have to school you again?”

Your thighs shake, a single sob stealing out of your trembling mouth as you nod your head but it’s not quite what he wants. He squeezes one of your breasts, pinches the nipple rather punishingly, tuts mockingly.

“Yes, I will. I will.”

“Good girl.”

Andy doesn’t stop until you’re quite literally screaming his name like he wanted you to. He pulls orgasms after orgasms from your quivering cunt even after you beg you can’t come anymore.

Wetness trickling down either side of your thighs as his fingers on your clit never cease their movements. You come once again for the fifth time, or was it the sixth? Clenching down on his cock like a vice, he follows you too. Releasing inside you with a deep groan muffled into the junction of your neck. His hips stutter a moment longer than necessary and you’re almost afraid he’s ready to go again. You try to pull away from his hold.

“We’re done, baby, we’re done.” He assures you, removes the hair that mats your forehead due to sweat beading there. Soothingly runs a hand down your side.

A gruff laugh from him, as your body sags against his. An unexpected flutter of your walls when his fingers collect the stickiness drooling down your legs. Once again, he forcibly opens your mouth and shoves his fingers in.

A tired muddled moan around his digits at the salty taste. Your head feels dizzy, and your body feels like it’s made of jelly. When he pulls out, he catches you before you fall headfirst into the mattress. You chuckle lightly at your predicament, sweaty back meeting the cool sheets. More of your combined releases seep out of your cunt. But neither of you bother cleaning up. Too sated to move as the two of you settle against each other, limbs lazily tangling and sprawled.

“Hey, so, I think I drank a little too much of that wine.” Andy says. You turn your head to look at him, see if he has a point.

“Do you mind if I stay over?”

You roll your eyes and smack his chest. That answers his silly little question. And the last thing you hear before you fall into a blissful sleep is his hearty laugh echoing around the room.

-fin

if you’ve made it this far, debate: who came onto whom? lol