Joe Keery Enthusiast

And there it is. He can’t seem to help himself. Even in the middle of a hot and heavy make out, with your clothed pussy pressed right up against his hard cock, he has to open that idiotic mouth of his and ruin it. 

“I'm not a goddamn communist you dumbass.” You draw back to look at him with a roll of your eyes, movements coming to a halt.

“Democrat. Libtard. Communist. Same fuckin’ thing.” He chuckles darkly, leaning back in, eyes half lidded but you move away in time to see him chase after your lips.

“I asked you to cut the shit when we’re fuckin’ around.” You huff, clear annoyance written on your face. 

His hand roughly cups the back of your head to hold you in place, eyes narrowing and growing darker in the dim lighting from the dash. 

“And I told you not to fuck around at Roy’s campaign rally, but there ya were with your goddamn lime green sign spewin' your liberal agenda bullshit.” He hisses through gritted teeth. “I even asked ya all nice like, but ya still showed up.” 

Your eyes search his and then it dawns on you. He’s actually pissed. Roy MUST have jumped his ass after he had tossed you out of the convention hall earlier that afternoon. There’s always banter between you but this was different. More charged, heated. 

You couldn’t help the amused laugh that escapes you but the grip at your neck only tightens. His cheeks and the tips of his ears redden, pressing his face close enough that your noses touch, his breath fanning across your lips when he speaks. 

"Fuckin' hate you…”

“Don’t worry, Tillman. The feeling is mutual.” You mutter, hips finally rolling back against him. 

He grinds up against you harder, his free hand sliding up your thigh to grip your ass possessively, fingers digging in with more force than necessary, surely to leave bruises for you to find. 

"Fuckin’ snowflake pain in my ass.” His teeth sink into your bottom lip, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to sting, before crashing his mouth into yours. It was all teeth and tongue, pent up aggression he could take out on you. 

He knows the name calling and slurs always get under your skin, loving every second of it, smirking against your mouth. He helps guide your movements, squeezing the globes of your ass roughly through your jeans. 

His bulge slides deliciously across your clothed cunt, your panties already a slick mess, each pass of your hips catches your clit deliciously. It was always like this, a push and pull of how long either of you could hold out. 

You break away just far enough to mumble against his lips, “daddy would be so disappointed right now.” 

His eyes snap open, flashing with anger. “Don't fuckin’ start with that shit. I don't want to think about him when you're ridin’ my cock.” 

“Too late cuckservative, you already started it.” Your lips twist into a devious smirk. He could dish it out but could seldom take it.

“Goddamnit, shut the fuck up.” He hisses, one hand grabbing your hip cruelly.

“Make me, you cheeto loving asshole.” You bite back. 

His eyes darken and narrow in on you, before he grips the back of your head, fingers tangling in your locks harshly, making you hiss from the sting. 

“Fuck, why do you have to be so fuckin’ sexy when you're being a cunt?” He muses, eyes drawn to your bared throat.

You're taken aback, expecting another crude insult, but instead his tongue darts out, laving up your neck, lips meeting your pulse point with an oddly tender kiss. Your eyes close when he sucks at your soft skin, a moan rising from your chest and filling the small space. 

His smirk returns, a searing touch slipping up your shirt, dancing across your rib cage. You whimper as he gropes your breast through your bra, squeezing and kneading the supple flesh. 

“Asshole.” You murmur but there's no real venom behind it this time.

You both talk too much, fight constantly, but truth is the second one of you gets their mouth on the other's most intimate parts, it all goes quiet. No politics, no daddy issues, no hate - just pure, desperate, unadulterated desire. 

"Got ya’ to shut up, didn't it?” He chuckles, kissing down your throat and across your collar bone. “Take this off.” He tugs at your shirt, loosening the hold on you. 

You hate how easily you give in, but you're reaching for the hem and pulling it over your head in one fluid motion. 

“Good girl.” He says, eyes glued to your chest, missing the glare you throw at him. Before you can make any retort, he shoves the cups down roughly, leaning down to bite at your nipple, making you gasp.

“Fuck,” you murmur, gripping the back of his head, keeping him there. He pinches the other, sending a new wave of want rippling through your core, hips jerking back against him. 

He pulls off with a pop far too soon for your liking but he's working the button on your jeans, stuffing his hand down the front of your underwear without any warning, finding the mess you made and pressing against your clit.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” He remarks, a rough digit swirling against your puffy nub, making your breath catch. “You're always so fuckin' ready for me.” 

You want to fight and push back, but he doesn't give you time to come up with a response, middle finger sliding down to your aching hole, slipping in and immediately starting to pump a steady rhythm, a second joining in a few moments later, further stretching your tight walls. 

He smirks, lopsided and lazy when your grip tightens around his shoulders, watching the way your eyelids slip shut in newfound pleasure, a moan escaping your parted lips.

He stops too quickly, cruelly pulling his fingers away with a sly grin, just when your hips begin to grind against his palm. 

“Asshole.” You mumble, shifting off him to slide your jeans and underwear down, leaving them on the floor board. 

“If I'm such an asshole, why're you always so eager for this dick? Huh?” His smug tone makes you roll your eyes once more, grabbing your hips and pulling you back down onto his lap. 

“Shut up.” You retort, thankful he can't make out the heat that creeps up your cheeks, knowing how true his words were but he can still make out yet another roll of your eyes. Your palm presses against him, hard and aching, tenting tightly against his jeans.

He smirks, his hips pressing into your hand. “Eye rolling's rude, Snowflake.” 

He leans in close, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “But you know what? When I'm balls deep, those eyes'll be rollin' back in your head for this dick.”

Fuck. It almost makes you lose composure. 

“Are you going to yap all night or fuck me Tillman?” You shoot back, making his cock twitch beneath your touch. A rough swallow making his throat bob. 

You lean in, nipping at his bottom lip. “That's what I thought.”

“Bitch.” He mumbles, hands flying to undo his belt. “Condoms in the glovebox.” His chin jerks, as if you didn't already know where he kept them.

You lean over as he frees his thick and heavy cock, gripping the base before pumping it a few times in his fist. You tear it open with your teeth, tossing the wrapper, not caring where it lands. 

“Well, go on.” He grunts, holding it steady. You're surprisingly tender rolling it down his long shaft, taking your time, more teasing than anything with a barely there touch. 

He groans, hands landing on your hips, yanking you forward when the rubber sits snug against his base. You gasp, cunt pressing against his cock, pinned between you. 

“Shut up and ride this fuckin’ cock.” He grits out, hand coming down hard against the side of your ass, making you yelp, feeling the sear already leaving a welted handprint behind. 

“Jerk.” You grab his girthy base, squeezing, making him hiss, hips canting upward. “Paybacks a bitch.” 

“Just fuckin’—” 

He's cut off when your pussy drags across his cock, slow and deliberate, head catching at your entrance but not letting him have any satisfaction of giving in just yet. 

“What was that?” You chuckle, lips ghosting the shell of his ear, tongue flicking out, sucking on his lobe.

“Fuck.” He groans, fingertips digging into the fat of your hips, trying to push you further down. 

“Ah, ah.” You chide, hips swiveling, his sensitive head swirling at your weeping hole. “I think you should ask nicely, since you’ve been such an asshole.” 

“You serious?” He scoffs. “M’not–” 

“You're so mad, frustrated, but your cock... your cock loves being used by someone you absolutely hate.” You grip his cheeks, fingertips digging in just a little harshly, making his lips part in a small gasp. “Now, ask. Nicely.” 

It’s his turn for an incredulous eyeroll. He huffs, a frustrated breath flaring his nostrils but you release his jaw.

“Willyouridemycock?” It comes out quickly, a mumbled whisper that makes you chuckle. 

“I don’t think I caught that.” You slowly let his tip slide in, but then stop again, he throws his head back against the seat in a frustrated growl. 

“Will you just ride my fuckin’ cock and stop bein’ a fuckin’ tease?” He grits out, this time more intelligible but still forced out as a frustrated rush. His lust blown eyes catch yours, barely a ring a color left of his irises. 

“Mmmmm…. Good boy.” Something in him snaps at that.

His face reddens with humiliation and anger, heat reaching the tips of his ears. “Fuck you.” He hisses, grip tightening, making you wince. He leans in, nose to nose with you as he grits, "I'm not a good boy. I'm a fuckin’ man." 

It takes the breath from you when he pulls you down without warning, thrusting up at the same time. His thick cock slides in easily thanks to your dripping arousal but still splits you open none the less. Your eyes slip closed, nails digging into his shoulders with a hiss. 

He knows he's big, stilling so you can adjust. It's the only time he ever shows a little restraint. Even if he's a dick, he's not a complete selfish bastard. 

“What was that, sweetheart?” He smirks. “How's it feel havin' a Republican between your legs?” 

“Shut the fu—” A sharp smack comes down across your backside, cutting you off with a gasp. Your eyes snap open to see him sporting a shit eating grin. 

“Ride me.” He grunts, punctuated with a small thrust of his hips. 

You mumble “asshole” but grind against him anyway, before you start to move, slowly at first, sliding up and down his rigid length, feeling every single inch of him. 

“Fuck, that's it.” He murmurs, eyes suddenly fixated on where the two of you connect, watching his fat cock slip in between your soaked lips, disappearing with each downward crash of your hips. 

It’s embarrassing how soaked you are, your walls enveloping him with ease. Moans and gasps slip past your lips, your arms wind around his neck, your movements becoming a little more fevered chasing your high. 

To anyone outside the truck, it would be painfully obvious what’s going on. The windows are fogged, the cab filled with the sound of skin slapping and your moans, two people who hate each other at every level except this one—this sweaty, desperate, secret thing in the middle of nowhere. Nowhere was actually in one of Roy’s many sprawling fields. It’s crossed your mind at how many people he’s actually brought back here for the same thing but you quickly push that thought away.

He grips your ass tightly, watching your breasts bounce as you ride him, spreading your cheeks apart, helping to ease you up and down his cock. He leans down, taking one of your pert nipples between his lips, sucking harshly, making you whine arching into him. 

Your hips stutter, feeling that familiar tingle up your spine, warmth spreading through your lower belly. His fingers dig into your hips as he meets your rhythm with harsh thrusts, his groans getting louder and more desperate.  

He feels your walls starting to clench around him. "Yeah? You gonna come on my dick?” He coos mockingly but you're too far gone, too lost in pleasure to reply with anything more than a high whine. 

One hand leaves your hip, moving to the back of your head as he crashes his lips to yours. He kisses you roughly, swallowing your moans. Your bodies are slick with sweat, despite the chill in the air, moving against each other with practiced ease. 

He pulls back from the kiss with a smirk. “Come on. I know you're close.” The pad of his thumb finds your sensitive clit, hips faltering at the touch for only a moment before you start bouncing harder, taking him deeper with each movement. 

Your moans get louder, higher pitched, as you get closer and closer to your release. Your thighs burn with exertion but you're so close, you can feel that hot white heat flooding your core. He’s watching you closely, almost mesmerized by the way your face is contorted with pleasure. 

“Come on, baby. Come on my cock.” He suddenly blurts, thumb still stroking your clit when you start to see those stars behind your eyes with a blinding force. Your pussy clamps down around him, when you start to lose rhythm, he takes over. He starts pounding you from below, pistoning in and out, prolonging your orgasm while chasing his own. 

His mouth hangs open, eyes squeezed shut as he cums, pulling you back down against him, pinning you there as he spills into the condom with a gasp and groan. “Fuuuuck!” 

You collapse boneless against his chest, trying to catch your breath. It’s a few minutes before your brain catches up to how intimate it feels. His cock is still seated inside you, your head leaning on his shoulder, so you push off his chest, clearing your throat when you slip off his lap, maneuvering into the passenger seat. 

You grab your crumpled jeans from the floorboard but can’t seem to find your panties so you let out a little exasperated “hmph” and pull your pants on without. 

“You good?” He calls out, noticing your little annoyed look, while taking the condom off. He ties the end and tosses it out the window unceremoniously, stuffing himself back into those utility cargos.

“Fine.” You mumble, reaching for the remainder of your clothes. 

Nothing else is said as you finish dressing. He starts the engine, pulling back onto the dirt driveway to get to the main road and get you back to your car that’s parked at an abandoned gas station nearby. 

"You gonna text me next week when you're horny again?” He smirks over at you as he throws it into park, his cocky demeanor slipping back into place. 

“I can. Yeah.” You shrug, the post orgasmic haze wearing off leaving you with that familiar regret and disdain for the man seated next to you. 

He stares at you for a long moment, jaw tightening like he wants to say something else. But he doesn't, his attention moving back out the windshield when you open the door to slip out. He watches you silently slip out, closing the door behind you without another word. 

His eye catches on something bright pink slipped right under the passenger side floor mat, your panties. He reaches out and pulls them free with a small tug, thinking of calling out after you but then thinks better of it, stuffing them in his pocket instead. He can always give them back later, next time.