Chloe

Damn him and his gaze. Even after 6 weeks of dating — and pining for a lot longer than that — he sure could still make you feel like a puddle.

You're only able to speak once he turns to his phone again. “Uh, excuse you, I'm a very fun person, thank you very much. Yesterday, I put a fake ‘your computer is down’ screen on Shen's laptop,” you tell proudly. 

“Dear god. He did not go into a cardiac arrest from your…prank?” Jack's voice caught on the word “prank” as if it deeply amused him.

You narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend (still hard to say that), shifting close enough to him on his couch that your knee knocked against his thigh. Your entire body faced him, while his faced the front — a tiny whine left your lips.

Jack turned his attention back to you as you spoke again. “You know it's the loss of control I hate. Don't you think I also feel like getting all loose-lipped and dancing on top of tables and flirting with strangers?”

His eyes softened a fraction when he saw the small frown on your lips. He sets his phone face-down on the arm of the couch, before shifting so his upper half faced you too. “Okay, what brings this on? You know I just like teasing, I don't think there's anything wrong with being an alcohol virgin.”

You rolled your eyes at his choice of words. “I want to know what it's like. It makes everyone so…” your hands do a weird dance in front of your chest, trying to find a proper word. Your attending swiftly moves his cup a bit to the left, so your hands wouldn't knock it all over yourself. 

“Joyful,” you finished.

“Okay, but let's not dance on table tops and flirt with strangers,” he takes off his reading glasses and perches them next to his phone. When his eyes find you again, they're equal parts amused, and that softness that only seems to show up when you're in the room.

“I would never, I'd feel bad for giving you stress at your age.”

He lightly smacks your hip that's not smushed against the couch, “Brat.”

You grin widely, “You'll be there, right?”

“With a camera and a mic. My beautiful, sensible, nurse, looking like an absolute fool,” he tugged at a loose strand of your hair, his eyes shining with endearment.

Your little baby blue sling looks absolutely ridiculous hung over his shoulder. “What did I tell you before leaving?” His voice strains with the effort of all the workout he got in today. He's struggling with unlocking the door, because your purse keeps slipping down his arms.

You were a disaster. While your favourite doctor made sure you only stuck to fruity drinks that gave you a pleasant buzz and not regrets — you still managed to outdo yourself in terms of being a mess.

You challenged a man twice your size in an arm wrestle. You advised 3 different women to break up with their boyfriends, “Mine's handsome and kind. You guys stay safe, though.” And, finally, broke the heel of your left boot making you even more unbalanced than you already were. 

“That Dr. Robby is a little shit with no self-preservation inst-”

“The other one, honey.”

You went silent for a moment, searching your hazy brain as the door opened in front of you. Jack gently guided you in, before locking the door with a sharp click. His rough hands sneak up your arms, tugging the jacket at your shoulders, and shrug it off you to safely hang it on his coat rack.

“That I shouldn't carry my bag if I couldn't keep it safe?” you say, looking down at him, as he sets his knee on the floor. His hands that cut and heal skin with such precision, are deftly working the zipper of your boots. He gently helps your feet out of the pair, patting your calf, before rising to his full height again with a groan.

Without your size boosters, your head was once again leveled with his chest. Jack nodded, leaning his head down so you didn't have to crane your neck as much.

“But I had my ID and pepper spray in there,” you justified, your lower lip jutting out in a pout.

Jack's hand pats the right-side pocket of his hands, “ID,” his voice rumbling as if coming straight from his chest. “And you don't need pepper spray. You have me.”

But you're not registering a word he says, not when he looks like this. His salt and pepper curls are all ruffled from your bar visit. His simple black tee is pulled taut across his biceps, making them look just as delicious as they do in his SWAT uniform.

His fingers snap in front of you, “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” You look in his honeyed eyes again. God, why haven't you guys had sex already? You seriously can't remember why.

“Why haven't we fucked?” You blurt out. Oh, the alcohol doesn’t make you Joyful. It makes you blunt.

Your boyfriend freezes for a second, before letting out a deep, throaty laugh. His hands settle on your shoulders. With a slight bend of his knees, he manages to stare completely and directly into your eyes. “Wow, thought we went to the bar, not to a seminar for clear communication.”

You capture both his hands and slide them down, so they're firmly on your hips. After humming in satisfaction, you take a step closer to him, your chest brushing his. “Answer me.”

As if suddenly realizing you both are still standing in the entryway, Jack starts walking you backwards, swiftly maneuvering you so you don't hit the kitchen counter. “I'm your attending, honey, I don't answer to you,”

You furrow your brows, staring up at him with irritation. You press yourself even closer to him, your palms settling on his hard stomach. “Like hell you don't. I want to know why me and my gorgeous boyfriend haven't made good use of every room in this too-big-for-you house.”

Jack sighs deeply, his fingers unconsciously tightening around your hips. He takes a seat on one of the low kitchen counter stools, so he doesn't have to keep looking down at you. His arms completely wrap around your waist, pulling you in until you're standing between the hard muscle of his thighs.

“Because we work at a hospital, we're either busy or tired. And…it's hard to find a footing with sex. You tense up whenever my hand slips under your shirt, you've talked about how insecure you get. And me…well, I'm not what I used to be.”

Your eyes soften, “But do you want me?” Your lips graze his jaw, your hands palming the hard plane of his chest.

Jack shifts in his seat and takes a deep breath, “What do you think, baby?” his right hand moves an inch lower with exaggerated slowness, settling on the top curve of your ass, his thumb stroking the curve.

You let out an entirely pathetic whimper at his breathy voice, his lips brushing your temple. You move back your face, so you can watch him again. His eyes look darker than they actually are.

“I see this as a good opportunity that we should seize, doctor.” His throat catches at the ‘doctor’. Oh, you are not a fair player.

“Well, I don't like my medical staff being inhibited. Perhaps, sometimes when you're horny and sober, we can continue the procedure.” His breaths are coming in shallow, his hard thighs squeezing around you to completely lock you in. His hands have not stopped moving, the one on your waist has moved north to tangle in your hair at the nape of your neck.

A petulant whine leaves your lips as you bury your mouth in the crook of his neck. “But-”

“No buts. I have no intention of being between your legs in a state you won't even remember anything in.” The rasp in his voice so close to your ear directly travels to the your belly, already coiling tight with tension.

The imagery makes you groan: His mouth working between your legs, his jaw shining under the dim lights, stopping for a moment to say, “Louder, baby. Your doctor can't hear you.”

Your lips slip from his neck, replaced by your forehead. His lips brush against your hair, the gentleness so different from what his body is suggesting.

“Kids and their hormones,” he teasingly says. That makes you pull yourself back. Because that's rich coming from a man whose pants are getting visibly tighter.

“Is that so, grandpa?” Your eyes are entirely fixated on his lips. Your own bottom lip has caught between your teeth.

His thumb comes up to free your lip so you don't hurt it, “Careful, brat.” His hand stays on your face, and you lean heavily into his palm, blinking at him. The strap of your top has conveniently fallen off from its place, and Jack is staring like a man who's just discovered shoulders, tracking the soft curve of it, following the slope of your neck, where your pulse thrums rapidly.

Leave it to him to have a gaze that weights at least a 300 pounds.

Your palms drop from his chest to his waist, brushing your fingers against the waistband of his pants. A soft “uh-uh” leaves his mouth as he slowly shakes his head, though he makes no move with his hands to push you away.

“You're palming at me like you're a little girl, and I'm your favorite barbie doll.”

“You are my favorite barbie doll, Dr. Abbott,” it leaves your mouth in a soft, needy, whine.

His shoulder shake slightly from laughter, the comforting rumble filling the room, subsequently reaching every tensed part of your body, and taking its place there too, perfectly fitting every crook and corner.

“I am a 50-year old man with a military background, who spends his nights managing an entire floor of medical staff. My day hobbies include being a buddy to SWAT and getting shot at.”

You look at him, as if to say “so?” and hearing the adoration — despite the choice of words — in your voice completely decentres him. “Glad to be your favourite barbie doll, honey.”

He finally freezes when your wandering palm brushes against the hard ridge in his pants, practically begging to be freed. You let out a little gasp as you feel his size, even with a barrier of rough fabric.

A low groan leaves him, his hand sharply capturing your bold wrist against his own chest, heaving up and down. For someone just talking about being 50, the man's heart is sure beating with a fast thump-thump-thump, like a teenage boy catching his crush in a 2-feet vicinity. Your name leaves his mouth, dirty and like a prayer at the same time.

“Let me help you, doctor. Please” you say sweetly, voice coated in silk and need and whatever poison this man mixed in your drinks.

A pause.

He gets off the stool in a sudden motion, his hands grip your forearms, and starts walking you backwards in the general direction of the bathroom.

“You are a pain in my ass. And, frankly, a horny mess.”

“Speaking of horny and my ass-”

He doesn't let you complete the sentence before turning you around, his broad chest hovering over your form from the back. “Nope. You have lost the privilege of looking at me before you've taken a cold shower.”

You tilt your head back to look at him, excitement glinting in your eyes, “together?”

“No, you pervert.” Your boyfriend opens the door to the bathroom and lets you both in. Before you can even complain, his rough palms are gripping the back of your thighs, swiftly lifting you up on the counter. You let out a little squeal, squeezing your thighs at the display of his strength.

Show-off.

So fucking hot, though. It's like he was made by Lana Del Rey's mind.

Jack doesn’t stop, though. He finds his way behind the glass that separates the shower from the rest of the bathroom. His practiced hands mess with the settings until he's satisfied, and comes back.

He stands in front of you again, crossing his arms over his chest. His muscles strain at the motion, trying to escape their way from the tight shirt. You pout at his slut-ishness. A walking, talking, thirst trap. If he was an actor, he would surely have his fare share of editors.

“How am I supposed to not get wet when you manhandle me?”

“Jesus,” he mumbles, pressing the heel of his palms into his eyes to lull some of his composure back into him. He silently thanks his military discipline, or you would currently be spread on the soft sheets of his bed, waking up his neighbours.

He takes a deep breath, eyes scanning you again. His fingers come up to pinch your chin in a soft embrace, “Shower. Clean. Mind and body both. And then, we will sleep. Got it?”

Heat pools low in your belly at his authoritative voice. God, how did you land this man?

“Sir, yes, sir.” You watch his gaze get heavy at the word. He leaves his hold on your chin, pats your hip, and exits the bathroom.

Guess you know what you'll be calling him, when he finally lets you do what your body is begging you to do.

You find him on his bed, wearing only a pair of low hung worn-out sweatpants. His back is slumped against the pillows, fingers locked behind his head as he stares at the ceiling.

He finally looks at you, crawling on his king-sized bed, trying to make your way over to him. It seems the shower un-possessed you. You look soft, sleepy, tired, and utterly his.

He holds out his arm and you immediately curl up into him, your icy-cold nose finding the hollow of his neck. “Hold me,” you murmur.

“One second, honey.” Before he can properly embrace you, he pulls up the thick duvet and arranges it to cover both of you. His left arm is trapped under your body, fingers pressing against the small of your back to pull you closer. His other hand brushes the hair back from your face, watching your heavy eyelids.

“There you are,” he softly rumbles before pressing the softest, most lingering kiss on your temple. A low sigh of satisfaction leaves you. You're still inhibited, but the tiredness has caught up.

“You didn't like the freaky me?” You ask, your jaw cracking with a yawn right after. 

“I like every-you, unfortunately. It's a weakness in the ED.” His fingers are still moving in your hair, scratching your scalp in a way that turns your brain to mush. You push your face even deeper in his neck. Hell, you would live inside his ribcage if he ever allowed it.

You let out a soft giggle, hiking your thigh over his hip so no part of you is separate from him. “Can we have a proper conversation about sex tomorrow?”

Your boyfriend murmurs a “yes, baby,” against your forehead. 

“Okay, goodnight. Gonna have some good wet dreams.”

“Shut up, and go to sleep, sweetheart.”

You bit your tongue, because whatever words that could’ve possibly tumbled out of your mouth in response would have been wildly impulsive, and probably inappropriate.

You were one of five skaters your coach, Jack Abbot managed, but you were his best. His golden girl. Or so he said. The way he spoke to you at times made you feel like the term’s polar opposite.

You’d been working with Jack for the last three years. In that time, he’d made an absolute star out of you. You’d assisted in a few shows on ice and competed in sporadic competitions before becoming so adored by the public that people wanted to see you perform at your own shows. That upcoming tour was the very thing that had your coach’s panties in a twist.

Jack had always been a little gruff, but he’d been different lately. You couldn’t really blame him. The stress of the tour had you behaving a little out of character, and your die hard figure skating coach was likely interpreting it as indifference. In reality, you were just nervous, and you wanted to exceed the expectations of everyone who was coming to opening night.

While you understood his perspective, would it kill him to sugarcoat anything? You honestly think you’d prefer he lie to you than be so blatantly rude. At least you had somewhere good to put the reassurance, even if it was fabricated. The petty comments only made you feel worse.

“I do want this,” you grumbled, pulling your skates on. “I’m here now, right? So, come on, let’s go.”

Jack looked like he wanted to protest, but he gave in and sighed. “Fine. Let’s.”

He held the door to the chilly ice rink open for you. You stepped out onto the ice and breathed the frosty air in, hoping it’d ease your nerves. With your luck, however, it instantly had the opposite effect.

“Two laps around the rink. I’ll wait here.”

“Okay,” you said. You’d failed to mention the part where you hadn’t stretched before this like usual, and hoped he wasn’t soon to figure that out.

You felt Jack’s eyes boring into you as you made your first lap around the rink. It felt like he’d been scrutinizing your every move lately, even when you were off the ice, and it was futile for your confidence.

“Pointers?” you shed through clenched teeth after your first lap. Jack only grumbled in return.

“No. One more. Backwards.”

You sighed and did as told, turning around to perform the backwards lap. Aside from a slight trip, you remained on your feet until you circled all the way back to him.

“Two foot slalows. Around the rink.”

You nodded and got right to work, moving your body from side to side as you made your way around again. You were starting to feel a little warm despite having not stretched, so you at least had that going for you.

Jack had you do a few more familiar warm ups before you were off the hook. He eyed you with that same look of scrutiny when you returned, putting his hands together. “Good. Let’s see you practice some jumps.”

You nodded and got to work. Tried to, anyway. The first three jumps went by like a breeze, but the fourth had you taking a slight stumble on the ice. Jack was skating near you now and helped you up, less because he wanted to and more because he felt obligated.

“Up. Try again,” Jack said.

He skated with you while you prepared for a fifth jump, this one landing with ease. You breathed a sigh of relief at the small victory, but this practice was still far from over.

“Better,” said Jack plainly. Why were his insults always more decorated than his compliments?

“Thanks,” you returned just as flatly. “S’that enough?”

“For now. You feeling warm?” he asked. You nodded.

“Good. Let’s see your choreo.”

“Just like that? But we haven’t—“

Jack held up a hand. “I want to see what you remember. Surely you should know the routine you’ll have to execute in less than a week before, I don’t know, thousands of people? Right, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. The nickname was typically sugary, but coming from Jack’s lips, it was more bitter than ever. In the time that you’d known him, he hardly uttered it with affection.

“Right, Coach,” you bit annoyedly. “I should.”

“Then, show me.”

“Can I play the music for it?”

“If that’ll improve your performance, sure.”

With an eye roll you hoped Jack didn’t catch, you made your way off the rink and to the soundbooth outside it, using your phone to queue up the music that’d play as you skated on opening night. The choreography required you start off the ice to make an entrance, so the second you started the playlist, you flew out on your skates.

The routine started well. You did two dramatic laps around the rink, swaying your arms and settling back into the rhythm you’d been trying to return to for weeks. You did a few twists here and there to show off, letting the music sweep you into an elegant dance on the ice.

It was elegant, at least, until your first complicated move, a double axel jump into a smooth landing, followed by a traveling camel spin—seriously, what the fuck was Jack thinking?—snuck up on you at the height of the song’s chorus. You braced yourself for the move and took a deep breath before attempting it, silently praying to whatever god there was that you did this right.

Unfortunately for you, if there was one, they were not on your side as you flew into the air and promptly landed on your ass.

“Fuck,” you muttered as Jack skated over to you. He helped you to your feet, but he didn’t look happy to do so.

“Again.”

You went back to the soundbooth to restart the playlist, emerging onto the ice with your same dramatic flare from earlier. Whatever they said about faking it until you made it really needed to prove true for you right now.

You conquered the same move you’d just failed like the universe was purposely playing tricks on you. At least the small win eased your nerves the slightest bit.

It was mostly short lived, however, as you prepared for the following one.

You steeled yourself to go into a toe-loop jump, one of the many moves that’d had people enamored with you from day one. Two large glides and some mental motivation had you pulling the move off with flawlessness.

You could see Jack’s slight nod from the corner of your eye. While it wasn’t much, it was more than he’d given you all morning, and you had to hold onto that.

Subsequently, after another dramatic lap, you had another complicated jump in the finality of the song. The Salchow jump was no easy feat for any skater, but if you wanted eyes on you, it was definitely the way to go.

As the bridge of the song began to play, you readied yourself for the final complicated move of this part of the show. You felt Jack’s eyes burning into you from somewhere in the room, ready to witness your coordination. You sure hoped you could muster that in time for the final move.

You glided once, twice, willing your feet to act like they were attached to a halfway decent skater, and leaped into the air to make your final move. You executed it with confidence, completing it with a decent landing, but you lost your footing towards the end of it, ultimately throwing the elegance of the move off.

“Christ,” Jack said to you when you skated back over to him, the first song having now ended. “I’ve seen far better from you. And I expect it in the next song.”

“Yes, Coach,” you said with a sigh. You were starting to think that the reason Jack’s exasperation irritated you to pieces was because it was mostly justified.

You skated off the rink once again and queued up your second song, this one a little more upbeat than the last. You took your place on the ice to start the routine, but this time, Jack skated over, positioning himself behind you.

You turned to cock an eyebrow at him, your eyes twisted into what was practically a glare.

Jack waved his hand. “Pretend I’m not even here.”

“Easier said than done,” you muttered under your breath.

You started skating again, keeping a quickened pace that matched the faster tempo of the song. The beginning had a few simpler moves than the first, which gave you enough time to hopefully. . . .hopefully. . .find your groove again.

Except you were utterly grooveless as you lost your footing for the umpteenth time, far before your first complicated move. Hell, before the song had really started.

You didn’t even notice that Jack had skated off the rink until the song stopped abruptly, making you pause in your tracks. You skated over to the soundbooth, stepping inside the bleachers area.

“Alright, I can’t watch this anymore,” Jack huffed. “Skates off.”

“What? But, Coach, I—“

“Off. I don’t want to hear it.”

You furrowed your eyebrows but obliged—you owed him that after what was arguably your worst performance of all time—and sat down on the bleachers to take your skates off. You slipped your regular shoes back on and spent far longer than necessary lacing them to avoid Jack’s piercing glare.

“You trying to make a fool of yourself or me?” Jack barked.

“What?” you said.

“If your heart’s not in it, sweetheart, and clearly, it’s elsewhere right now, now’s the time to tell me. My career doesn’t need to go down with yours.”

You scoffed, standing up. “You didn’t even help me out there. Your criticism only made it worse,” you snapped.

“At least it was constructive. Why should I have to hold your hand through this? You know far better than to put on a show like that.”

“I wouldn’t be putting on a show like that if my coach acted like he gave a shit!”

Jack crossed his arms. “I do give a shit. Too many, apparently. You want the big leagues, honey? Those coaches would have ended your contract like that for even half the performance I just saw.”

You crossed your own arms to mirror him, huffing.

Jack took a step closer to you. His face went the slightest bit softer despite his earlier fury. “Look. I’m not saying this to be a hardass. And I’m sorry if it’s coming off that way. Skating’s your passion, and I know you want this,” he said. “But if you can’t act like you want to be here, then I can’t help you. Nod if you understand me.”

Your head seemed to nod of its own accord.

“Great. Now, you going to tell me what’s the matter?”

You looked up at the taller man, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. “I don’t know, Coach. I’m stressed, I guess. Stressed I’m going to royally destroy the opening show this weekend. And I suppose I. . .I’m also scared to disappoint you.”

“You might do both things if you can’t get your head in the game,” Jack deadpanned.

“Coach,” you whined.

“It’s true,” he said. His tone went quieter then as he looked you in the eye. “But you probably won’t do either if you put your heart in it, too.”

You held eye contact for a minute without speaking or moving. As much as you hated to admit it, Jack did have a point. As a matter of fact, you’d hardly known him to ever be wrong since the day you’d fucking met him.

Jack broke the silence. “So, what do you need? More practice? Pointers? Need to stretch again?”

“Well. . .” you said. “About that.”

“What?”

“I didn’t actually stretch before this? Was already late, and—“

“Hold on. You got on the rink without stretching?”

“Yes? No? Which answer will take the look you’ve got on your face right now away?”

“Jesus Christ,” Jack said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You want to get hurt now, too? Fuck, what am I going to do with you?”

“I’m sorry! Again,” you said. “Let’s stretch.”

“You need more than dynamics. Let’s take a walk.”

You cocked an eyebrow as Jack started to split down the hallway that led outside the arena. “More than dynamics?”

“Yeah. I need you back on your A-game, and we need to release any tension in your muscles before you start again,” Jack said. “You coming or what?”

“Yes, Coach,” you said, ever the dutiful skater, following behind him.

You trailed beside him until you reached a room you’d never been in outside the rink. It was mostly empty save for one of those doctoral beds in the corner, as well as a counter with a few random items atop it.

“Never been back here before,” you said. “What is this?”

“There used to be masseuses here for the figure skaters and hockey players that come through. Few other rooms just like this one down the way,” Jack said.

“So you get to play masseuse now. Exciting.”

“Hilarious. Come on, honey. Vest off.”

You took off the puffy vest you’d had on and set it on a chair in the room. You also took your shoes off at Jack’s command.

“Did you want, um. . .should I keep my shirt on? I have a tank top under. And shorts,” you said awkwardly.

“It’d make it easier,” Jack said plainly.

You then made quick work of your longsleeve, revealing a thin tank top underneath, followed by your thermal leggings. The exposure made your cheeks heat up slightly, but Jack thankfully didn’t seem phased. 

“Lay down. You can start on your back.”

You got onto the bed with Jack’s help—and tried not to think too hard about his hand lingering on your waist—and laid down flat. Jack’s warm hands met the flesh of your leg, and you turned away timidly as he started to lift it.

“Let’s loosen those hamstrings, yeah?” Jack said. He lightly thumbed your skin while your leg was positioned above you, working into the knots you hadn’t even known accumulated there. The feeling might have been foreign, but that didn’t mean it felt bad.

“No wonder you can’t skate. You’re tense.”

“Would it kill you to say anything nicely?”

Jack chuckled. “Maybe it would.”

He put your left leg down and moved onto your right, repeating the same routine.

“Just breathe. Relax. You’ll feel better.”

You tried your best to internalize that, but you couldn’t relax with the feel of Jack’s hands on you if you tried.

He lowered your leg and pushed your knees into your chest, holding them there. You completely averted eye contact with him, letting the silence speak for you. Jack hummed like he was amused.

“What?” you said.

“All that fire on the rink but you can’t even look me in the eye in here. It’s funny.”

“Shut up. It’s just awkward.”

“Still funny,” Jack said. “Both legs up. Hold it.”

You lifted both your legs. The stretch did at least feel good in your glutes, and the ones prior had you feeling good in general, so you had to give him credit for that.

“Legs down. Put your foot over your other leg, then switch.”

“You’d make a good doctor,” you teased as you used both arms to hold your leg over the other.

Jack rolled his eyes. “All this shit is Google-able. So as I said earlier, it’s like you want to get hurt.”

“Jesus. Old man can’t take a joke now?”

“Sure I can. Switch legs.”

You followed his instruction, but you weren’t done pushing him yet. “I’m just saying. Doctor Jack Abbot. . .mhm, could totally see it.”

“You’d probably give me a hard time as a patient, too,” Jack said.

“I don’t give you a hard time now,” you hummed. “You just take everything so personally.”

“You trying to piss me off?”

“See? My point is proven.”

“Turn over. On your stomach.”

You did as told and laid on your front now, feeling even more vulnerable like this. Jack rubbed your inner thighs with the pads of his fingertips. You let out a shaky sigh in return.

“Feel good?”

“Mhm. It’s. . .nice.”

“Good,” he said. He lifted your leg again, pushing it towards you until you felt a stretch in your quad. “Hold it.”

After doing the same to your other leg, putting you in child’s pose, and lastly, into a cobra position, Jack finally let up. You sat up and faced him, your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“How was that?” Jack asked.

“Way better than dynamics. I feel great.”

“Of course you do. The longer you neglect your muscles, the better it feels when you finally release the tension in them.”

You rolled your eyes. “And here I was, about to tell you how good of a masseuse you are.”

“You’re full of jokes today, aren’t you?” Jack said with a small chuckle. But he tried, no surprise to you, to hide his amusement beneath his usual stoicism. “I’m still not too happy with you.”

You let out an exaggerated groan. “Come on, Coach. I already said I was sorry! What else do you want from me?”

“What do I want?” Jack said, taking a step closer to you. You parted your legs without thinking so he could stand between them, all before you could really process what you were doing. What he was doing. 

“I want my golden girl back.”

You swallowed nervously as you looked up at him. Apart from celebratory hugs and pats on the back, you didn’t think you’d ever stood so close to him; close enough to make out every gorgeous feature on the older man’s face, every gray in his stubble. Every rise and fall of breath, the freckles that started at his neck and slowly descended beneath his shirt. . .

Your breath hitched at the proximity, leaving you stupidly tongue tied, until you managed a small, “I can be her. I promise.”

Jack rested a hand beside you on the bed. “Yeah, honey? You promise?”

“Yes, Coach.”

Like two magnets with an impenetrable force, you both found yourselves leaning into what was more than a kiss, but a whole new side of your relationship you hadn’t known existed until now. You weren’t exactly sure who sealed the deal, only that Jack cupped your cheek with a tenderness contrasted deeply by his previous gruffness, and started to work his lips against yours similarly.

The kiss was soft and sweet, tentative, like Jack was trying to figure out what you liked. Luckily for him, you had no problem disclosing just that. You pushed your tongue past his lips and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

Jack grunted against your mouth, possibly the hottest sound you’d ever heard, and slipped his fingers into your hair. His hold wasn’t to control you but more to possess, and the thought had you soaked.

You weren’t the only one worked up, however, because there was a bulge in Jack’s pants that was already hard and insistent against you.

The kiss became frantic as the sounds of both your noises filled the room. You desperately guided his hand down to your shorts, right above your clothed core. Jack chuckled against your mouth.

“My God, honey. You’re so fucking needy,” he said, but he didn’t pull his hand away. He laid his palm flat over your center, and though fabric prevented him from fully doing so, you still rutted your hips against his hand.

“You expected me to stay sane after I had your hands all over me, Coach?” you rasped.

Jack shook his head. He looked you in the eyes while he kept his palm against your core, letting you take your pleasure. “Skip the formalities, sweetheart. You can call me Jack.”

“Okay,” you said with a swallow.

“Say it to me.”

“Jack.”

“Again.”

“Jack.”

“That’s it. Get used to it. S’exactly what you’re gonna say when I fuck you stupid on my cock,” Jack said with so much nonchalance, you could barely register the implication. “Hips up. I want your shorts off.”

“So bossy,” you teased, but you did as told. You lifted your hips so Jack could slide your shorts off your body, revealing your pitifully soaked underwear. 

“Should have expected that from you of all people,” you said.

Jack helped you take them off, discarding them on the chair you’d put your vest on. “Girls like you need it. Always acting up until someone puts you in your place,” he tutted.

Jack audibly groaned at the prominent wet spot on your panties. He rubbed his thumb over your clit through the cloth, finding the spot easily, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips.

“Fuck, look at you. S’this why you were fucking up out there, honey? Too wet to think straight?” he cooed.

Unable to argue with that, you bit your lip. “Can you b- blame me? You can be really hot when you’re mad.”

“Which, according to you, I’m always mad.”

“Then you’re always hot.”

“Have you always thought that, honey?” Jack said, his pace against your clit quickening.

“It’s kind of hard not to notice,” you admitted unabashedly. “Especially when you—fuck—talk to me like that. Makes me think all kinds of dirty things about you.”

“Oh, yeah? And just what kind of things d’you want this dirty old man doing to you, doll?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you teased. You pulled him in by his curls, twisting them in your fingers and pulling him in for a heated kiss. “Let’s start with your fingers inside me.”

“Demanding girl, aren’t you?” Jack scoffed, but he still obliged. He instructed you to lift your hips and slipped your panties off your legs, shamelessly putting them in his pocket.

“Perv.”

“You like it,” Jack said. He wasn’t wrong.

Jack slipped two fingers between your folds to find you wet and pliant for him, your hole practically crying to be filled. He used his free hand to drag you to the edge of the bed, keeping his arm around your waist and his eyes on yours while he teased your slit. Your breath picked up speed at the teasing gesture while your body begged for more.

“Come on, Jack,” you breathed, tasting his name on your lips. You found its flavor as sultry as the scene before you. “Don’t make me beg.”

“I don’t know, honey. After your little tantrum today? I think you deserve it.”

“Jack.”

“What?” Jack said nonchalantly, still teasing you between your folds. You thought you might implode if he didn’t fuck you already. “I told you what I want. So come on, doll. Ask me nicely.”

“Please, Jack. Please, fuck me.”

“Good girl,” Jack said, and with that, he slipped two fingers inside you, thrusting them in deep. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Fuck, n- no,” you squeaked as he began to thrust in and out of your tight walls, your own wetness the only thing allowing him to breach it at all. “Jesus, Jack,” you whined, scratching your nails into his bicep.

“Fuck, love when you say my name, baby,” Jack grunted. He pulled you impossibly closer, gripping your waist with a possessiveness that was making you feel dizzy. “Can you take a third?”

“Already? Shit, you’re insatiable.”

“Guilty,” Jack smirked.

“For you, I can.”

“Aren’t you a sweetheart,” Jack cooed to make it sound sugary, but you knew it was anything but. He slipped a third finger inside you, groaning as you clenched around the digits. He began to pump them in and out of you with vigor, eyes never leaving yours.

“Mmm, so good,” you whimpered. Fuck, if you were this stupid on his fingers, you had no idea how you’d handle his cock.

“You’re cute when you can’t think,” Jack said. He flicked his thumb against your clit, implementing the same circular motion he had previously. “No bratting, no back-talk. S’like my version of heaven.”

“You’re so. . .mean. . .”

“Oh, but you like it, huh? Look how hard you’re clenching around me,” Jack tutted. “Now I know the trick. Give this pussy a bit of attention and you’re a stupid little slut for me.”

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you whined as he spoke. “Don’t stop, Jack, please, m’gonna cum.”

“Don’t stop what? This?” Jack said with a particularly sharp thrust into your cunt. “Or did you mean treating you like a whore, honey? Yeah, that’s it. You need a filthy old man putting you in your place.”

“God, y- yes,” you nodded your agreement. “Need you to fuck me so dumb, Jack.” 

“Gonna give you everything you want, sugar. Just need to be good f’me. . .you are capable of that, aren’t you?” Jack cooed, taking your face in his free hand. He pinched your cheeks between his fingers, making you look at him.

“Yes, sir. So, so good.”

“There’s my precious slut. Cum for me, baby. Cum all over your old man’s hand.”

That did you in. A wave of pleasure crashed over you as you came with a shudder, holding onto Jack’s arm while he fucked you through your release. His fingers didn’t leave until you were basking in the aftershocks, and only then did he pull them out, sucking his fingers clean.

You pulled Jack in for another kiss, moaning when your tongue met his. He kept a hand on your waist, the other on your neck, gently squeezing down. You moaned into the rough touch in approval.

Jack pulled away to help you get your shirt off, then unclasped your bra with scary ease. He groaned at the sight of your hardened peaks, taking both breasts into his hands.

“Shit. Your tits are perfect,” Jack said as he squeezed them both, circling your nipples with his thumbs.

“Fuck,” you whined. You watched him trail kisses from your neck to your collarbone until his tongue swiped over your chest. He sucked one of your breasts into his mouth, swirling the length of it over your nipple, while one of his hands continued to knead your other tit.

“Beautiful girl,” Jack hummed more to himself than to you, all while his mouth continued working. His filthy words and flick of his tongue against your chest, paired with the incessant hard-on pressing against you from below, was about to make you fucking explode.

“This is some. .  .stress relief,” you whined, still trying to joke despite your vulnerable position. “You really would be a good doctor.”

“Back to that, are we?” Jack hummed against your nipple. “What are you trying to say?

You laced your fingers through Jack’s hair again, playing with it as you spoke. “Just. . .saying. This feels like a check-up, that’s all.”

“What’s that make you, then?” Jack hummed. “My pretty little patient?”

Caught off guard by his words, you let out an involuntary whimper. “I suppose it does.”

“Well, don’t worry, doll,” Jack said. He squeezed your nipple even harder, pinching it between his fingers. “Doctor Abbot’s gonna get you all fixed up.”

With that, he latched his mouth onto your nipple again, swirling the bud with his tongue. It was evident what kind of man he was as he took a liking to your pretty tits, hardly coming up for air and grunting like he was the one being pleasured.

“That feel good, baby?” Jack hummed after switching to your other nipple, giving it as much attention as the other.

“So good. Doctor,” you teased without thinking. “But I want more.”

“Oh, s’that right? You’re gonna have to use your words, sugar.”

“I want your cock, doctor. Think that’d really fix me.”

Jack chuckled and stood upright. You didn’t have to tell him twice. “Lay back.”

You did as told and laid down on the bed he’d been stretching you on previously. Well, you supposed this still counted as. . .stretching. . .right?

As Jack started to remove his pants, you realized you’d been completely naked while he was fully clothed. He almost stopped at his bottoms and climbed atop you, until you shook your head.

“Shirt, too, Doctor.”

“Bossy,” Jack said, but he didn’t deprive you. He removed his shirt and discarded it on the growing pile of clothes across the room. The sight of his bare chest had you impossibly wetter, even more so as he settled between your legs on the bed.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” you said as he hovered over you.

“Look at that. You do know how to be nice,” he returned.

“You should be the last person talking.”

“I’m as nice as they come,” Jack hummed like he actually believed it. He started to free his cock from his boxers, and the girth of him surprised you. You sat up on your elbows to get a better look, swallowing at the size.

Jack’s face went a little softer. “You okay, baby? Sure you can take it?”

You nodded quickly. In fact, you might have been a little too excited to take him, not so much the converse. “S’this gonna help me, Doctor? Relieve my stress?”

Jack smirked at you. “Sure is, doll.”

“Then, yeah, I can take it.”

“That’s a good girl. See? You can be smart,” he said.

“Oh, fuck you,” you retorted.

“Gladly,” Jack said. He slotted his already leaking tip between your folds, putting a hand beside your head to keep himself steady. “Ready?”

You nodded.

“Words, sugar.”

“Yes, Coach.”

Caught off guard by your words, Jack sunk into you shakily, the name in a moment like this working him right up. “Fuck. You’re trouble.”

You gasped at the utter stretch of him inside you, and felt even more shocked when you looked down and realized that was only half of him. Jesus. You were already sweating and he hadn’t even fully breached your hole yet.

“Oh, s’that too much, love?” Jack cooed at your little whimpers. He pressed a kiss to your lips to silence you, humming as his mouth swallowed your noises. “Shhh, shhh, you can take it. Big stretch, sweetheart.”

With that, he pushed even further into you, watching your face for your reaction. His equally cocky and attentive demeanor was making your head spin with complete and utter lust.

When he was all the way inside, he started to thrust into your pussy, picking up speed the faster your moans got. Your body was gradually accommodating his size, but the longer he fucked you, the better it felt.

“Jack, f- fuck, you’re so big,” you moaned as he rocked his hips against you. Jack was so deep that his heavy balls were slapping against you with every thrust, adding to the erotic nature of the moment.

“You like that, sugar? How much I fill you?”

“So, so much. Please, don’t stop,” you whined.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Jack grunted into your ear, his thrusts already getting sloppier. For how uptight he was on the ice, it was jarring in all the right ways to see him lose a bit of control.

“My good girl. My golden girl. Taking her coach’s cock so well,” Jack cooed.

“Wanna be your good girl, Coach. Only yours.”

“That’s what I like to hear, sugar,” Jack grunted.

He picked up the pace and fucked you into the bed quicker now. Your back arched off the surface, the man so deep it was like you could feel him in your throat, as you took every punishing thrust of his hips into your gummy walls.

Jack withdrew momentarily, the loss pulling a whimper from your lips. “Lift your legs, doll.”

You didn’t question him and raised your legs the same way you’d been earlier when you were stretching. Jack took them over his shoulders and lined his head up with your hole again, before thrusting back into you.

“You’re so pretty when you listen to me,” Jack hummed as he started rutting into you again.

You let out a breathy laugh, though it proved hard with the feeling of being so full. “I’m not all brat, as you’d put it.”

“I like when you behave. Should try it more often.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, thought you both knew full well you wouldn’t.

Not if it ended in sex like this.

Jack pulled out of you, and for a second, you thought he was going to make you beg for his cock again. That is, until he was slamming back into you, getting lost in the feel of your pussy wrapped around his dick.

“Fuck, baby. You’re squeezing me so tight.”

“Jack,” you whimpered in return, your body ready to give into another orgasm. “I’m close again.”

“Yeah? Want me to—“

“No,”  you said instantly. Paired with him subtly shifting his hips back, you knew where this was going. And, quite frankly, the thought of him pulling out wasn’t a good one. “Cum inside me. Please? I want you to.”

Jack chuckled, thrusting back into you. “Jesus, sugar. Who knew you were such a dirty girl?” he said. He pushed in impossibly deeper, the tip of his dick hitting that sweet spot inside you. “You want this old man filling your pretty little pussy, huh? Fuck the consequences?”

“Fuck the consequences,” you repeated. “I want it.”

Jack didn’t deny you. He fucked into you like an animal, gripping your legs tightly as he slammed into your cunt. A familiar pleasure started to build in your lower belly, and you knew it wouldn’t be long now.

“Jack, fuck, faster!” you moaned. “Gonna cum for you, gonna cum, holyshit.”

“I’m right there with you, baby. I gotcha,” Jack groaned. You clenched around him hard at the reassurance, and before you knew it, you couldn’t hold back.

You came with a loud cry after a particularly harsh thrust into your pussy, soaking Jack’s dick with your juices. He wasn’t far behind you, cumming deep inside you only seconds later with what could only be described as a feral grunt.

“There’s my girl,” he cooed as he fucked you through it. “Take it like a good little slut.”

When you finally caught your breath—or enough to get a few words out, anyway—you looked up at Jack with a fucked-out expression. Sweat was sticking his gray curls to his forehead, and he looked just as dizzy as you.

“That was—“ you started, but you didn’t get to finish before Jack was suddenly flipping you over, pulling a surprised “Oh!” from your mouth. Without further warning, he bent you over with your ass up, running his hands over the flesh of your bottom.

“Jesus, Coach,” you said at the sudden action. “This another one of your stretches?”

“Always a fucking minx, aren’t you?” Jack tutted. He pushed your face down into the bed and pressed up behind you, his cock prodding and insistent between your cheeks.

“I’m not a—holyshit,” you moaned. You didn’t finish that sentence either, not before Jack was thrusting back into your oversensitive hole, setting a lethal pace.

Jack chuckled. “Yeah, not loud-mouthing now, are you, sugar?”

“T- Too s- soon!” you managed through a whimper, the overstimulation making you dizzy. You had said you liked him meaner, but you hadn’t expected this.

“Poor baby. Just a little more now, love, almost done,” Jack cooed like his fingers weren’t now gripping your hair, and the room wasn’t filled with the wet squelch made from him pounding into your poor pussy.

“Jack,” you whined, the sound muffled by the pillow he had your face in. “Feels. . .feels like. . .”

“Use your words, doll,” Jack commanded. “Feels like what?”

“L- Like I’m gonna pee,” you admitted embarrassingly.

Jack chuckled and didn’t let up, already knowing where this one was going. “Ain’t anything to be embarrassed about, sweetheart. S’gonna feel so good, promise.”

“What’s. . .what’s gonna. . .mmph!” you said with a final moan before you felt exactly what Jack was being so smug about.

The second Jack withdrew from your pussy, a stream of fluid involuntarily escaped you, promptly soaking the already ruined bed below you as well as Jack himself. He patted your bottom condescendingly as he watched you do it, muttering a satisfied, “There it is, doll. Let it out.”

“You’re so evil,” you muttered when all was said and done. You turned around to find a smiling Jack, who pulled you to rest flush against his front, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind.

You tried to ignore the feeling of his still-hard cock behind you as he returned, “Still got my golden girl back, didn’t I?”

You giggled and conceded, nodding in agreement. “Told you I could be her. Or whatever you want me to be,” you said. You laced your fingers through his curls, pulling him in for a sensual kiss.

Jack returned it eagerly, the gesture a sweet contrast to his rough treatment from before. “Yeah? ‘Cause after this sugar, you might have to be mine.”

You smiled at him. “I think I could live with that.”

You’re already in the truck. Restarting it and turning up the music you were once playing, you fain confusion, “What was that?! I don’t think- I don’t think I heard you- the music!“

His voice deep with a warning of your name, footsteps creeping up to the open window of the passenger door.

“I’m sorry Jacky, I won’t interrupt your shift any longer.” You purse yout lips, blowing him a pretty middle finger as you swerve off.

No time for Abbot to even recover before an ambulance truck is pulling up.

You’re lucky you two love each other so much, lucky to have a man like Jack who would have you wide open and stuck in the rudest full nelson known to man just before you’re set to go to work, plunging his leaking thick cock till his breeder balls slapped against your gushing pussy lips.

Didn’t care how much you tried to ignore him when he used the key to you’re apartment, didn’t care that you were just to slick your curly hair into a low ponytail and the first things you said after he got out the shower was, “I’ll slap the shit out of you Abbot, get out my fuckin face.”

The bastard is deep inside you, brutal stroke after stroke through your gummy walls. Jacks calloused hands are under your knees, holding you tight as he rails up into you, your skin slapping together as you let out those sweet moans and whimpers he loves so much. His tongue goes up your neck to your earlobe, his husky voice housed in your ear, “No, no baby cakes, look at how pretty you’re making me, can you see it?”

You only sob out, letting him hike your knees to your elbows with his forearms, nudging your head down with the palm of his hand, head peering down to see just how much his cock is shining with your cum drenching him. And you can see it, every hungry and deep pump of his cock inside you. You hiccup, your hands over his and clawing at them,“Fuck Jack!

“Only you are making me like this pretty, nngh- only you can make me this hard.” The angle only making you wetter, strawberry top of his length nudging at your g-spot with every whack, whack, whack, into your pussy. He rolls his hips into you, eyes rolling into his skull, teeth nipping at your skin that will form little bruises later.

He groans, let’s out a breath as he feels his cock twitch, “Shit, I’m sorry honey, you know I’m sorry.”

“You’re not fuckin sorry,” you murmer out, head lulling back onto his shoulder, your cunt clenching and he accidentally slips out your heat, smacking ashint your thigh.

“You just always- mmph- talk. That’s all you do. Talk but you like me all riled up over you.” And Jack can hear it, the way you’re pouting, got every right to be angry, he knows that. And then he hears you let out a sharp inhale, a wet yet soft cry, “Think ‘m easy, makin me feel stupid.”

And Jack hates it, taking your chin in his hand, thumbing away a tear, “I do not think you’re easy or stupid, baby cakes. I’m stupid. Shouldn’t have had those girls near me like that. I’m sorry. You’re the only one I want to do everything with.”

You hiccup, leaning into his touch, letting him kiss your soft and full lips, eyes getting lost in his hazel eyes, “Just- I don’t like them touching you Jack. I- it should only be me.”

Shivers roll down his spine, “Only you baby, course it’s only you. Always you gorgeous.” His hand travels from your face, lips still locking with yours, his fingers circling your areolas, then tweaking them both. Living you gasp worthy kisses as he groped and kneads your breasts. “Gonna you everything you want baby, isn’t that what you want? Fuck- want everything I can give you? Hm?” You let out a moan in his mouth letting him slip his tongue in and wrapping around your tongue.

Jack pants, head resting against yours. “Come on sweetheart, put it back in for me.”

You stupidly nod, fumbling to get his rock hard member in your hand and rubbing it through your puffy pussy lips and against your fluttering hole. Your eyes squeeze shut, mouth agape as he pounds back into you. You can feel it pressing right up against your cervix, his pre sloshing around in your soaking pussing.

“Jaaack- aaangh- shit you’re so big Jack!”

His cock is spreading your fat pussy lips wide, bed rocking as he rolls his hips into yours, he hisses at the way your pussy chokes him, “‘s Just for you honey- thaaat’s it pretty- made just for you, Promise.”

Heat is rolling all over your sticky skin, that tightened in your stomach building every time his cockhead bumps against your g-spot. Harder, thrusts more erratic while gripping on your thighs like a vice, till youre both cumming. Jacks hips stuttering into you as he paints your walls white to the brim, hole overflowing— overstuffed with his cum.

“Jesus baby,” he breaths out, finally letting your legs go, slipping his dick out of you. He brushes your curls back as he turns your limp body towards him, kissing you all over, “Love you so much, my pretty girl. Thought about you all night.”

His hands travel up and down your waist, pecking your lips, “Gonna go see your ex?”

Your mind is fuzzy, yout head giggling so cutely, “What?”

Good, god you’re his good girl.

And he feels your thigh go around him, rubbing your naked body against him, you kiss his jaw, mewling, “mmm- Only wanna be with you Jack, please Jack.”

The older man is cracking a smirk, half hard and easing his cock into your sopping pussy with a filthy, “I knoooow baby girl, ‘m not goin anywhere. All yours.”

When the two of you got home, he scooped you up bridal, just like the day you were married.

"Oh-hey!" You shout, startled and clinging to his bicep. He didnt flinch at all, instead kicking the door through all the way and carrying you up to the bedroom.

You giggled and kicked your feet the whole way. When he plopped you on the bed, he wasted no time stripping you down to your bare ass. You spread your legs on instinct. "You're awfully thirsty today," you whistle. Cupping his jaw, Joel crawls over your body as you pull him closer, his lips pressed into your palm. His eyes were dark and low, sending shivers over your body.

"Christ baby, felt like i could smell you in the car whole way home."

"I was not... you cant possibly smell--"

But Joel wasnt listening. His eyes were trained on your center as he lifted one thigh over his shoulder.

You almost gasped as he put his bloodhound nose right at the apex of your slit and practically inhaled your insides.

"Joel," you whine.

He sits straight up. "Huh."

You sit up as well. "Huh?"

He doesnt respond. Just stares down at your glistening pussy with a sort of confusion. Then, he leans back down and inhales again. He prods your entrance with his finger like baker trying new batter experimentally before putting it in his mouth. His lips smack with a pop when he pulls his now sucked clean digit.

His brows raise, fascinated. "Oh."

"Oh??" You ask. Youre sitting up on your elbows just staring him down for any reason as to why your crowned prince Pussy Lickin Fiend is doing more thinking than eating right now. He doesnt aknowledge you, as if its just him and your pussy in the room right now.

He goes down again, this time shovimg his curbed snout tightly against your cunt.

Another deep breath in, your clit twitching against the bridge of his nose. His eyes flutter close and he sighs blissfully.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh my goooooooooddddd," he moans down there.

You fist your hands in his curls and yank his head up for some answers from Sniffy McGee. The force doesnt tickle him a bit: he looks up at you drunkenly with lidded lazy eyes and a lopsided grin.

"Listen Snuffleupagus, whats the hold up? Is it.... bad?" You ask, your voice getting soft at the end. Fuck... what if the bun in your oven makes the dough go sour?

"Its.... better," he hums, bringing his lips back down to suckle. "Baby i cant--mmmm--caunt descwibe ut--" his voice muffles into your sloppy crevice. "Fuck. Can ya get wetter for me? Huh baby momma? Gimme a little extra daddy juice--" two fingers begin twirling in and out of yout hole. Per his demand, a generous ooz of slick slides out. "Oooooohhhh thats my pretty momma, yeah--" he latched on again, suckling the slick clean. "Yeah baby--oh fuck yeah--"

He continues and repeats: scissoring your open and drinking you down like sap.

"Probably--just..." you let out a drawn out moan, head tilted to the heavens and eyes rolled to the back of your skull.

"Just...something...ate...morning...Fuck--jesus Joel--baby--please." Youre already quivering around his head.

"No baby, its cuz of this--" he places his palm flat across your belly. " cuz i put that goddamn baby in here and now im getting my treat." He started to suspect your taste had changed slightly over the last few weeks. But the reveal of your pregnancy only made him certain: pregnant pussy was to die for.

"I--you're making that up--"

"Hey!" He snaps "Dont you insult my pussy again."

"Your pussy?? I'm your wife!!"

"N' she's a goddamn member of this family too so you just let me love her up--"

Joel is relentless. He shakes his head side to side, ears clanking against your thighs, his tongue prodded deep inside. Grinding his boner into the mattress has never been more satisfying, just so long as he can keep his mouth on your delectable pregnant puss.

"Yeah--yeah baby... you gonna cum?" He sucks off your clit with a loud pop. "Gonna cum like a sweet little baby momma? Sweetest this pussy ever tasted--" mercilessly fucking you with the tip of his tongue, Joel makes sure to slurp up the mess spewing from your folds.

You shriek when he slaps your pussy lips repestedly with his fingers.

"Messy messy girl--mmmm!"

Your mouth is agape but no words escape. Only whimpers and moans of pleasure as he forces orgasm after mind bending, core shaking, soul rattling orgasm out of you.

-

When you wake, Joels head is wedged between yoyr thighs again ad he coaxes a morning cum out of you. You wail desperately.

Your pussy had never been this sore, not even after your wedding night. You could just feel how puffy and achy she is, but Joel doesnt seem to mind. Even as you try to pry his lips off, he wouldnt budge, locking his arms around your torso and suffocating his face into your mound.

"Joel! Fucking--breathe!" You command.

For once he actually hears you and pulld away just to suck air like he'd been under water for 30 minutes.

He blows out the juices stuck in his nostrils before going back in.

It lasted the whole weekend.

By sunday night, you locked yourself in the bathroom just to gently tender to your swollen cunt. Whimpers bubbled im your chest as you couldnt even touch it while scrubbing suds around your exceedingly sensitive petals.

Louds banging at the door startles you.

"Hey ... is she okay in there?" He asks through the panel.

You grit your teeth. "No. SHE is NOT."

He's silent for a moment before singing sincerely in a lighter voice, "i can kiss her better!"

- - - -

You’re lying in Tommy’s bed on your belly, scrolling Insta and waiting for him to be back from the store with snacks and ice cream. His new house is being renovated so he’s still staying at Joel’s which means that whenever you visit him in Austin you’re living there, too. Usually Joel is the most chill host but tonight it’s not the case.

The bedroom door swings open and he stomps into the room, making you flinch and gasp.

“The hell?” you grumble, turning your head to throw him a glare. Joel stops by the bed and the annoyance you’re feeling immediately disappears as soon as you see his naked torso. You clear your throat, get on your side, facing him, and shamelessly take your ex step uncle in. A gold chain rests on his broad muscular chest which is exposed for your hungry eyes and they slide over the expanse of it before moving to his greying happy trail that runs down his stomach and disappears behind a pair of the sluttiest sweatpants, hanging low on his hips. Your mouth salivates when you see his big bulge that’s calling for your hands, your mouth, your pussy.

Joel huffs, clearly noticing his effect on you, so you reluctantly lift your eyes to his face that is, as always, displaying the most assholish expression.

Suddenly you remember that he’s just spooked you with his sudden appearance so you narrow your eyes at the man and scold him,

“Can you knock next time?”

Joel crosses his arms, and you try your best not to moan at the sight of his arm muscles flexing.

“Knock?” he scoffs, towering over you. “I’m in my own goddamn house.”

“So? It’s fucking rude, Joel! What if I weren’t dressed?”

“Oh, c’mon, Angel,” Joel chuckles as his dark eyes roam over over your body, barely covered by a crop top and a pair of tiny home shorts. “The stuff you wear ain’t hiding shit anyway. Besides…” he brushes his tongue over his lower lip and adds, “nothin’ I haven’t seen before here.”

Your scowl disappears and morphs into a playful smile. He’s not wrong. You do love to dress slutty especially in the company of Tommy and Joel. And the older brother has been in your every hole, kissed or licked every inch of your body so your reasoning might sound ridiculous.

“Still… s’rude,” you mumble, doubling down and hiding your smile.

“You can’t even say this shit with a straight face, Angel. Have nothin’ to complain about. Me on the other hand…”

He shoves his big hand into his sweat’s pocket and retrieves a pair of lace panties.

“What are these?” he asks with his brow raised.

You blink slowly and then reply in a bored tone, “These are panties, Joel. Women wear them on their butts.”

“S’ not what I’m askin’,” he gruffs with annoyance, clenching his unshaven jaw and looking unbearably hot. “Why d’I find ‘em on my couch?”

Fire flashes in your core as you remember what was happening an hour or so ago — Tommy was fucking you hard in a mating press, you were sucking on his tongue while his cock was pumping in and out of your weeping hole.

“Tommy and I fucked in the living room,” you say like it’s the most clear thing in the world. Joel puckers his lips and nods with a fake pensive expression on his face.

“What’s your problem? Can’t we do that?” You push, hoping that the information has made him jealous. Joel knows fully well that you belong to Tommy but you get super wet every time you see a glimpse of his possessive side.

Joel places one knee on the bed and tilts his head.

“My problem is….—“ he slowly climbs on it, “— that I come home after a day of hard work—,” he walks closer to you on his knees, “— sit on my couch, ready to watch some trash tv and relax but instead I find these soaked panties.” With his prominent bulge now looming over your head, he brings your underwear to his nose and takes a deep whiff of your scent. “Now I got this —“ he palms his covered hard-on with a free hand and states, “and you have to deal with it.”

You gush into your shorts, hearing his words, your ego flattered by the fact that he got a boner just seeing your panties.

Meanwhile Joel pushes you on your back and climbs on top of you, making his chain swing. Heat, radiating in waves from his half-naked body, sets your core on fire, his scent envelops you, your mouth waters and pussy cries, wanting to be ruined by him.

But it wouldn’t be you if you complied so easily, so you put your hand on his hot chest and stop him from mounting you. His palms planted on the bed at your shoulders, he’s hovering over your body, breathing heavily, and the vein thumping on his forehead tells you he’s not happy to be edged.

“Who told you I wanna deal with your hard-on?” you scoff, getting on his nerves so he’d give it to you good and hard. “Go jerk off like a normal guy. I’m not a fleshlight you can fuck whenever you please.”

Joel chuckles darkly, his gaze focused and intense.

“‘K”.

He lifts himself off you and for a second your heart tightens. Is he going to leave now? You’re horny as hell! You need his cock!

Suddenly Joel grabs your shorts and pulls them down your legs, making you cry out and leaving you completely exposed from your waist down. With his strong hands he pushes your legs apart and his eyes land on your pussy.

“Hnggg.. look at this wet cunt. Something tells me she’s been waitin’ for me to come and fuck ‘er.”

You try to close your legs but Joel holds them open and you don’t really want to fight him so all you do is roll your eyes at his comment.

For a few moments Joel just sits there, staring at your pussy, then his lips spread into a wolfish grin as he gruffs,

“Gimme a wink, baby.”

You know Joel too well to understand that he’s not talking to you.

“She doesn’t want you,” you lie but your body acts on its own accord and you clench around nothing, giving Joel just what he wants.

“Good girl,” he praises not you again and then suddenly frowns. “Wait… What the…? Why she empty?”

“Huh?” You blink at him, not understanding what he’s talking about, until it dawns on you that he’s surprised by your empty pussy. His confusion is understandable — you’re always fully cum-stuffed when you stay with the brothers in Austin.

“Oh! I asked Tommy to come in my mouth.”

You lick your lips remembering the sweet taste of your boyfriend’s load sliding down your throat and almost purr with pleasure.

“Right…,” Joel mumbles, gliding his big warm palm down your inner thigh, sending shivers all over your body. “Little slut was thirsty?”

You smile at the pet name and then moan when Joel covers your pussy with his hand and coos,

“Let’s fill ‘er up then.”

You gasp when he grabs you and pulls you up. He places you like a doll on his lap and dizzy with a whiplash you grab onto his big shoulders for stability, straddle him and whimper at the feel of his steel muscles under your palms.

“What are you…?” You start but Joel immediately lets you know what he’s about to do by pulling his huge cock out of his sweatpants.

You drop your head to take in the sight of his gorgeous leaking dick and your whole body tingles with anticipation.

“Someone’s excited,” you smirk, nodding at his hard cock.

“Told ya. Your damn soaked panties..” He gets comfortable on the edge of the bed with you on his lap, manhandling you as if you weigh nothing. Meanwhile you tut, shaking your head,

“You don’t need much these days, huh, Joel? What’s wrong? Dry spell? No one in Austin wants to fuck you in a bathroom stall at the bar?”

Joel flashes you a glare and grabs your cheeks squishing them with his fingers.

“Shut it, Angel,” he gruffs, his hot breath fanning your wet lips. “Or I’ll plug it up.”

His cock won’t be the first in your mouth today and you know well that ‘the more the better’ so your lips twist into a pleased smile as he lets go of your face.

Then Joel’s hands slide down to your naked ass and he lifts you by your asscheeks, positioning you over his stiff bobbing cock.

Biting your lip you lower your hips slightly and rub your wet pussy against the hot crown. His precum mixes with your wetness as you move your hips back and forth, not giving Joel what he wants, only coating his tip with your slick.

“Quit teasin’, little slut,” Joel hisses and roughly pushes your hips down.

You choke on a moan as your pussy swallows his giant cock in one go. You feel so full so fast that your breath hitches. If Tommy didn’t fuck you earlier you’d be probably split in two by Joel’s giant cock.

“Oh my God, Joel!” You slap his naked shoulder as you exclaim. “I can’t take you just like that!”

“See? You can,” the man smirks with his voice strained. “Sittin’ on it nice and pretty, baby.”

You mewl and drop your head to look at the place your bodies join. Joel’s trimmed pubic hair tickles your spread folds and you shift a little, rubbing your clit against his hairy lower belly.

“You’re such an asshole..,” you mewl, digging your nails into his shoulders, thrusting back and forth, stimulating your sensitive bud and slowly putting out the fire of the stretch in your core.

Joel’s brows pulled together, his jaw slackened, he’s looking down at your pussy, and you moan as your pleasure multiplies by the affect you have on him.

“Fuck…feel so good… wet and warm for your uncle.”

You roll your eyes at what he still calls himself but you both know that the depravity of the fact that he was a member of your step family just a few months ago drives you both crazy with lust. You gush around his cock but mumble under your breath,

“Thanks. Jerk.”

Joel looks at your face and when your eyes lock he coos,

“Been thirsty, Angel? Gulped down Tommy’s load like a milkshake? Now… are you hungry?”

He tilts his head and commands, “Open up.” You expect him to put his thumb between your lips like he often does so you could suck on it while riding him and you obediently part your lips but to your surprise instead of his thick digits he stuffs your panties into your open mouth.

“Mmmm..!” Your protest is muffled by the fabric and when your hands fly up to take the underwear out Joel grabs your wrists and holds them securely behind your back. All you can do now is groan and thrash on his lap and Joel chuckles, watching you struggle — pierced by his fat cock, the wet panties in your mouth, your hands restricted by his strong grip.

“Look at you,” he smirks, brushing your spread lips with his thumb, gloating at the way you’re fruitlessly trying to spit the panties out of your mouth. “Finally stuffed your dick-sucking hole... now let’s work on another one. Start bouncin’, Angel.”

He roughly tugs at your neckline, exposing your naked tits, then bucks his hips and sends his cock so deep inside your core, your eyes roll to the back of your head and a needy moan crawls up your throat.

“That’s what I like hearin’. Should plug your mouth more often.” Joel tilts his head and says, “Maybe it’s gonna be my new house rule. You walk in and get immediately gagged. With a cock or somethin’ else, your choice.”

He barks a laugh as you’re frowning and grunting, your eyes throwing daggers at him, but as soon as Joel slightly rocks his hips and his cock massages your walls you quickly go back to being a complete mess.

“Mmmm,” you whimper and flood his dick with your juices.

“M’jokin’ baby, relax,” Joel mumbles, visibly trying to hold himself back from fucking your brains out. The man loves edging you even if it means edging himself.

He brings his mouth to the side of your neck, licks your skin there and then drags his lips along your jawline so slightly it tickles. He brings his face to yours, and looking into your eyes, whispers, “Love your sharp tongue too much to do that.”

Your heart flutters when you hear his words and for a second you feel glad that you can’t speak. The things he’s making you feel right now with your heart and your body intoxicate you like the strongest drug so who knows what you’d blurt out under its effect?

Not being able to kiss you and probably regretting it, Joel licks your cheek and you lean into his touch with your eyes shut. Your pussy is clenching like crazy around Joel’s length, the ache is getting unbearable, and lifting on your knees, you start slowly moving up and down his cock.

“Fuck yeahhh,” Joel groans, making you clench even harder. “Like that, Angel. Ride it.”

You don’t need any encouragement— you’re feeling so good you’d die if you stopped. Still holding your wrists together Joel grabs the back of your neck with a free hand and leaves a hickey on your neck. You’re whimpering, picking up the pace and soon you’re bouncing on the man’s cock while he’s watching his dick spear your wet pussy again and again and again.

“Fuck! She’s stretched just like your pretty lips, angel,” Joel says as his obsidian eyes are hungrily sliding over your body— your tits jiggling with every bounce, your face twisted by pleasure, your pussy sucking in his glistening cock, leaving a creamy ring around the base.

Joel groans when you change the rhythm, slow your movements down, and begin riding him steadily and languidly.

Soon heat starts rising in your core but you need more to reach your peak. Unable to speak, you search for Joel’s eyes with a plea in your gaze, begging him to take you there.

“What is it, babygirl?” He asks as his eyes glint with mischief. “Need uncle’s help?”

You nod your head eagerly, your brows pulled together in concentration, and Joel immediately slides his palm down your belly and to your needy clit. He kisses a corner of your gagged mouth and stays there — his forehead pressed to your temple, his nose at your cheek while his thumb gently swirls around your clit, sending a moan up your throat. A few moments later he picks up the pace and begins rubbing your bud with a perfect rhythm and pressure.

You’re whimpering and almost crying from pleasure and wanting to see you better, Joel frees your hands, rests his back on the bed and watches you ride his cock, while his thumb is working your puffy clit.

“Damn… squeezin’ me… keep goin’, baby, keep bouncin’. Gonna give you so much, you’ll be leakin’ for days.”

“Mmmm..”

You don’t dare and don’t want to take the panties out of your mouth so you place your palms on his strong chest, find a perfect angle and roll your hips slowly and deliberately, massaging your pussy and his cock. A powerful wave soon hits your core and you’re seeing stars, mewling and trembling on Joel’s throbbing cock, while he groans and keeps stroking your puffy clit.

After a loud roar Joel follows you and you feel his warm cum hit your walls like a tsunami. He jerks with every rope his cock’s squirting into you and your pussy spasms around it, milking him, emptying his big balls. After some time his load starts to inevitably leak out of your hole while you’re jumping on his cock and your stuffed pussy is squelching loudly as you’re riding out your climax.

When the pleasure stings you push Joel’s hand away from your clit and spit the panties out of your mouth.

You don’t even notice Tommy entering the bedroom at first. You’re breathing heavily, still sitting on Joel’s cock, spent and drunk on endorphins. Joel looks at something behind you and you turn back to see Tommy leaning against the door frame with a smile across his handsome face, the sight of his girlfriend cockwarming his brother's dick not bothering him at all.

“Keeping her busy, Joel?” Tommy smirks, walking up to you and cupping your cheek. You’re staring up at him, probably looking like a mess with your clouded eyes and puffy lips.

“She needed fillin’,” Joel throws to Tommy and gently pulls you off him. He tugs his cock back into his sweats and gets up.

“He gagged me, daddy!” You complain with a pout, sitting down on your heels and feeling Joel’s cum slowly seep out of your hole.

Tommy’s voice is both curious and strained, he must be turned-on seeing you half naked and fucked out, as he coos at you. “Did he? With what?”

You nod at the panties next to you on the bed and Tommy turns to Joel with widened eyes.

“Was yappin’ too much…,” Joel mutters, adjusting his cock. Then he looks down at you and gruffs,

“Don’t leave your wet panties around my house—,” he leans down to your face and lowers his voice, saying, “—or next time I’ll stuff ‘em into your sloppy hole.”

Your pussy clenches, your jaw drops and by the eager look in your eyes Joel realizes that you’re absolutely not against the idea.

“Damn,” he chuckles, turning to Tommy, “she’s up for anythin’, huh?”

“She’s … adventurous,” Tommy smiles, looking at you with heart eyes, and you bite your lip, melting under his loving gaze. Your boyfriend bends over and you meet him halfway for a soft kiss. You purr at the taste of his lips and part from him only when you hear the older brother walking out of the room.

“Joel!” You call for him, your arms still wrapped around Tommy’s shoulders. “Movie night?”

The man stops by the door and turns around.

“Depends. If you wanna watch some drama or another romantic snoozefest I’d rather kill myself.”

You scoff, grabbing your shorts and putting them on.

“And what do you wanna see? Some stupid 80s action movie that reeks of toxic masculinity?”

Tommy sighs, sensing an upcoming argument. Soon all three of you head downstairs to the living room, Joel and you bickering non stop over a movie choice.

Thank you for reading! Please, leave a comment and reblog if you liked the story💞

Bad Blood Series || MASTERLIST

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