violet

First, went your pants — short’s tonight, the Texas summer was hot. You left them on the floor right where they slipped off your legs. 

He was rock hard in an instant. Because he knew that pair of panties. Black, simple, with a lace trim. He’d sat here a couple nights ago with them wrapped around his cock. Stroking himself until he’d cum all over them. 

It was nasty work, and wrong on so many fucking levels  and he knew that but at the same time, he couldn’t fucking care less. Messing with your AC unit was easy enough, and the way you asked him every time if he could take a look. “Damn thing isn’t working again,” while twirling your hair around your finger. Who’d deny you when you asked so sweetly? 

Neighbourly duties, ’s all. And who wouldn’t help you? Clocked pipes, loose porch step,  the busted AC unit or  helping you carry your groceries inside. Any reason he got to get into your house, to spend time with you. He’d pocket a pair from your hamper. Keep them for a bit. Like a trophy. Nose pressed into the gusset while he jerked off to you every night. Once he’d cum all over them he’d find an excuse to get back into your house. To return them. Slipped back into the laundry hamper. Always expecting you to find out this time around. But so far he’d gotten away with it. 

“Fuck,” he grunt, fist working his length steadily. Across the yard, you’d disappeared into the bathroom, to wash your face and brush your teeth and hair. By now you’d stripped down to just the black lace trimmed panties and a matching black crop-top he just knew you didn’t wear a bra under. 

But he would need to wait until you lost the top too, once you stepped out of the bathroom, to know for sure.

God the amount of times he had fantasised about watching you get ready from up close. Laying in your bed and waiting for you to crawl into bed beside him—-

His hand moved faster, twisting on the upwards motion when you walked back into your bedroom. His cock twitched when you reached for the hem of the top that rested barely a hand width below your glorious tits. 

Yeah. Just like he thought. You’d been bare under. Fucking tease. 

His breathing grew laboured, a string of quiet moans slipping past his lips. “Fuck babygirl,” he watched how you got the body lotion from your nightstand like you did every night. What a sight you were. Right there on display for him. Massaging the lotion into your arms, your shoulders, your chest. And you don’t even turn away from the window, no doubt convinced that since his home was the one facing your bedroom across a narrow strip of grass, no one could see you. Except here he sat, like every night, fingers around his cock, watching how your hands moved down, down, down until your fingers dipped past the waistband of your lace trimmed panties to ease them along your thighs and lower after that until they too dropped to the ground before your bed. 

Because of course, you slept naked. 

His balls drew tight, the sight of your body on display like that for him enough to sent him over the edge with a quiet moan. His hot release coating his fingers instead of your smooth skin. Fuck the thought of painting your skin with his cum or better yet flood your womb was enough to make his cock twitch again. 

Oh what he wouldn’t give for making you his. For making sure no one else ever got to see you like this. 

Joel could still make out your shape, barely covered by a thin sheet when he settled into bed too. Turned towards the window. Always turned towards the window now. 

“Night babygirl.” He breathed into the darkness, already having decided he’d need to pay you and your laundry hamper another visit.

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He couldn’t hear you. Which was a true fucking shame. God what wouldn’t he give for hearing the quiet breathy moans slipping past your lips, or be the cause for them—- but alas. Joel could do nothing else but watch. Mesmerised, his cock in his hand, fist pumping steadily, while you wound yourself on bed and through the sheets. 

You must be ovulating. He counted three so far and there was no saying what he missed before coming up here to shower… who was to say how often you’d cum before that? 

At first he’d only watched. Legs falling open, fingers moving, teasing your own breast and the way you’d bowed off the mattress when you’d cum. Back arched, mouth open before laying in bed, catching your breath. But then you’d pulled a vibrator from the nightstand, and he’d gotten his cock out. 

Working himself while you’d quickly cum again. A responsive one, weren’t you? 

“God babygirl,” he groaned, his fist moving harder, faster. He’d wanted to draw it out, to time it and cum with you, but his balls draw impossibly tight when you shift onto your belly, hips rolling steadily against the toy. With a grunt he spilled his cum over his fingers for you, like he so often had since you moved in. 

And you’re still going. Hips rolling, bucking against the toy. 

It’s an impromptu decision, and not at all thought through. Fingers wiped, pants pulled up again, he’s at your front door not even three minutes later. 

“Just a moment, ‘m coming,” your voice run through the house, breathy and needy and god why the fuck did his spent cock twitch? He wasn’t some fucking teenager anymore. 

“Sure you are,” he huffed when it took another minute before he could hear you coming downstairs. Wearing one of your crop tops and shorts you’d no doubt thrown on quickly and with nothing under. 

“Joel, hi,” you greeted him, opening the door hair mused, voice still a little breathy and if he looked closer — which was what he always did, he could see that you were on unsteady feet. 

“Hey,” he greeted you and fuck he could swear he smelled it on you. The faint traces of sex and an orgasm, or two or three. He’d bet your thighs were still slick. “Finally got time to look at the shower,” you’d complained about a lack of pressure a while ago. “Unless’s a bad time?” 

“N-no,” your cheeks flushed while you stepped aside. “Not at all, come in.”

“Won’t be long babygirl,” he offered, voice low as he stepped past. 

The shower was upstairs. In your ensuite, leading him right through your bedroom and yeah. The room smelled fucking glorious. Giving him an idea of what he would find if he buried his head between your thighs. 

“Sorry ‘bout the mess,” you apologised, “Just–just got up.”

“’s fine.” Unmade bed, yesterday’s clothes — the red panties you’d worn yesterday, still on the ground in front of it. Joel had half a mind of waiting for you to turn around and pocket them. But his attention was drawn to the toy that just laid out in the open, on top of the sheets, for him to see. A rose shaped thing, red and obvious. Like you had wanted him to see. 

His brain short-circuited, and without another thought he’d abandoned his way into the bathroom and stepped towards the bed. Reaching for the damn thing. So that’s what had you arching and withering in bed. 

When it should be him. 

“Joel?” your head popped around the corner, eyes widening when you spot him examine the toy. “What are you… –-fuck, forgot to put it away, I—”

“Got somethin’ better,” he remarked.

“What?” You tried to snatch it from him, mortified, but he pulled his hand away. 

“Said, got somethin’ better.” 

You scoffed, for a moment your fingers itched to harshly connect with his fingers but then, then… You were still horny. Unable to take the edge off. Too so because he’d interrupted you. “Fine,” your arms crossed, “Prove it!”

The grin that settled onto his lips when he placed the toy onto the nightstand, you could tell that he’d been waiting for an opportunity like that. 

Before you could even comprehend, he was on you. Hands on your waist, lips crashing against yours and in an instant you melt, fingers finding his hair, lips parting to his tongue, pupils dilated and panting when you part. 

“Gonna take real good care of you now babygirl.”

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He’d dreamed of this, of his face buried between your thighs, your fingers in his hair and a composition of moans filling the room. “You taste divine, babygirl,” he moaned, one of your thighs hooked over his shoulder and all you can do was whimper when his tongue sunk back into you again. Before dragging up all the way to your clit to circle around it just to drag down again. 

You’d cum once already, he’d rubbed you over your shorts. The lack of panties pressing the seam just right against your clit that you’d been moaning and bucking into his touch while his tongue had laved attention to your nipples. Crying out his name before he’d fully undressed you. 

When he’d finally pulled your shorts down your legs the cotton had been soaked. “See how much better Daddy’s touch is over the toy?” Under any other circumstances and if this wouldn’t be Joel, you’d be instantly turned off. But instead you’d clenched around nothing, desperate for his touch. 

He made you see stars again, with his lips around your clit and two of his fingers inside of you. Fingertips dragging again and again over that sweet, sweet spot even after you’d clamped down hard around them.

“Think y’re ready f’me,” his voice was rough, had turned to gravel. 

“Mhm,” you nodded eagerly, his fingers still lazy moving inside of you. 

“S’you agree now,” he chuckled. “‘m better than that thing?”

“Jury’s still—-” the out disappeared into a moan when he bit your nipple. 

“Gon’ get you hooked on this fat cock,” he promised, shedding his clothes and fuck, he was thick, veiny and leaking pre-cum. You’d always assumed, from how he’d carried himself, that he definitely a big dick but there was a huge difference between assuming and actually seeing it with your own eyes. “Gonna want nothin’ else but me ’n my cock.” A promise, you know he’d keep when he sunk into you in one hard thrust.

The stretch, despite your previous orgasms bordering on painful for a moment before pleasure follows it hot on its heels. 

“’s like you’re made for me,” he moaned into the crook of your neck. “Fuck,” he groaned, beginning to move. “Squeezin’ me like the good girl you are.” 

You can’t even form a coherent thought let alone form a reply. Reduced to a string of moans and Daddy’s that fell from your lips while your approached your third orgasm and he was chasing his. You fall apart before he does, overstimulated and with a cry. But Joel’s right there behind you, spilling deep inside of you with a grunt before you could tell him he needed to pull out. 

He didn’t immediately pull out after either, drawing you into his arms.

“Fine,” you sighed, once you were sure you’d manage a conversation. Your walls still clenching around him “You win.”

“I win?” 

“You win. Your got something better.”

A low chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Told ya,” he teased, lazily kissing you. “Gonna remind ya every time ya forget.”