LauIsSugarFree

You stand up from your place on the floor, trying to get random things organized that you've put off, things that have no space, that should be in a junk drawer, or just thrown out.

You reach for your phone, hoping that the screen is lit up with your friend's name but you see the letters spelling out your neighbors name.

Holland March

He is sweet, you have to admit. He helped you move boxes, helped you unpack, he was more than willing to help you build your new furniture and do the annoying things friends never want to help out with when someone is moving. You appreciate him and all of his help, he's selfless, and pretty nice to look at, but he just has one flaw.

He won't stop texting you.

You laugh at the ridiculousness, clicking the multiple notifications and opening it up to your text thread.

Hey

What's up

Having dinner Holly cooked lol don't think she knows what seasoning is! 😂

I love her though it's very thoughtful

I sounded like a dick

What are you doing??

You can come over for dinner I'll sneak you some seasoning haha

Want me to come over?

Twenty five minutes passed until he started again.

I've got a bottle of liquor with our names on it what do you say I bring it over and we crack open those last few boxes?

Sorry you're probably busy

Hope I'm not bothering you, just wanting to help

You let out a small sigh, reading over his messages.

You raise an eyebrow, glancing over through your window to look at Holland's house. A couple drinks wouldn't hurt, it's the weekend, and it will make unpacking these last handful of boxes not as sucky since it's all the junk you've been putting off.

Come over!

You quickly text back, before you can talk yourself into being alone for the night.

You hear Holland's front door swing open and slam smut almost immediately as he walks over to your place, and he comes right in. He's definitely made himself home, maybe you made the mistake of telling him that too many times. But you also do enjoy the sight of the man slung onto your couch, his pants tight over his thighs as he slurs some random words you're half paying attention to, him talking your ear off into god knows what hour of the night.

"Honey, I'm home!" Holland jokes, raising his arm with the liquor bottle as he walks into your house, kicking his shoes off before sitting it down on the table.

"And dinner, Holly insisted I bring some for you." He softly smiles, and you thank him. It looks good from what you can see through the Tupperware lid, but you won't know the difference when you're eating it freezing cold straight out of the container while you're half awake and half sober.

"Thank you, both of you." You smile back, folding table covers you didn't even know that you own and shoving them into a kitchen drawer.

Holland cracks open the bottle of liquor, you can hear the metal top cracking open. "It's some whipped cream flavored shit, I don't know. Seemed like it would be up your alley." He mumbles, pulling down two classes from your cupboards as he fills them, the frost from the bottle that you're guessing was in his freezer to chill now covering his hands in condensation.

You watch him wipe his hands over his stomach to dry them instead of using one of your kitchen towels like a normal person would, but not before you notice the water slide it's way down his long, thick finger.

At the thought you grab the glass, taking a gulp. Your nose pulls up in a scrunch from the burn and you pinch your eyes shut. "It needs a chaser, something."

"Jesus Christ, I was going to ask if you had something to mix in, silly!" He opens your fridge, grabbing a random soda before pouring it into your glasses.

He swirls his drink with his finger, instead of using one of your spoons, like a normal person would. You hold your glass out for him to mix yours the same way as you are still recovering from the burn from alcohol in the back of your nostrils. Holland looks at you as his finger that moment ago was mixing his drink, is now in his mouth.

"M'?" He hums around his finger, and you toss out a hand. "You don't have cooties, it's fine." He sticks his saliva covered finger into your drink, mixing it for you before pulling it back into his mouth.

You know Holland is attractive, it's clear, from the moment you saw him you knew he was a beautiful man. You have eyes. You just didn't know you were this attracted to him.

🕊️.

The boxes have been long forgotten about and a second drink has been poured. You got through two boxes before throwing in the towel and turning on some random movie. You sit on the ground, going through different pictures and memories that were once taped up in a college dorm as Holland sits slumped on your couch.

He smiles down at you, balancing his glass on his thigh with two fingers.

"You were a cute kid. Reminds me of Holly when she was little." You smile up at him, watching as what you're sure are fond memories wash over him.

You toss the photos back into the box, tired of sorting them and cursing your younger self for not dating them back then.

"How long has it been just you and Holly. If I can ask?" You peek up at him, taking a long sip of your drink in hopes that it will somehow cushion the blow to such a big question.

Holland hisses as if the question had burned him. "Oh a while. Holly was pretty young. So maybe.... six years? Maybe longer. I don't know. I get so lonely sometimes I lose track of time." Holland sighs, brushing his messy hair back as he takes a large gulp of his watered down lazy excuse of a mixed drink.

You frown at the realization, feeling your heart sink for him. "You haven't dated or anything?"

Holland begins to laugh at your question, almost before you are even done. You were planning more questions, but it's clear that you should just stop at the one.

"Yeah, good joke, sweetheart. I like that one." He snorts, tossing his feet up on the couch and laughing into his hand. "Really? Not even a fling?" Holland shakes his head, rolling his lips into his mouth.

"Nope. Nobody. I was so focused on doing what I could for Holly and making sure that I was being a good dad that once I realized years passed me by and I'm alone I just.. I can't even try to put myself back out there."

Your eyebrows raise, completely shocked. You lick your lips, preparing for your next question. You can't tell if the alcohol is living up to the liquid courage name or what, but

"I haven't been with anyone in over six years, Y/n. It's been that long."

And your question is answered before you can even ask it.

You want to tell him it's okay, take him in your arms and kiss his head, tell him he has so much time and that he's still grieving.

You lift from your spot on the floor, finishing your glass before standing above him on the couch. You make eye contact, saying so many words with nothing but a look.

You untie your pants, pushing them down along with your panties. Holland lifts to his elbows to watch you, watching your thighs as you kick your panties away from your ankles and lift a leg to straddle him.

He can feel his breath hitch, getting stuck in his throat from excitement and anxiety.

He pulls you into a kiss, a sloppy one that is messy, your teeth knock together but it's still good. You can taste the sweetness from the soda on his tongue but the bitterness of liquor and tobacco balance it.

"What if I'm not any good?" He whispers, making you shake your head. Your slide your hands into his hair, softly tugging at it while you kiss. Holland moans into your mouth at the feeling of it, his pain and pleasure mixing together as he grows a large bulge under your thighs.

You look down, softly laughing. "Jesus, with that?" You can tell just from the growing bulge alone that he's big. "You'll have no problems." He kisses you again, hungrily groaning against your mouth as your hands drift from his hand down to his pants as you unbutton them, trying to work them somewhat down so you can pull his cock out.

He laughs into your mouth, his hands guiding yours as you pull his boxers down, his cock springing free.

"Oh, oh fuck." You want to wince at the size of it. It's big, long, thick, a pretty pink tip. You want to tell him he could me a model but quickly realize a cock model would just be a porn star, and you begin to laugh into his mouth as you kiss him again.

"What?" He asks, slightly breathless, which is partly from the shock of what's happening.

"Nothing. Just excited." You mumble into his mouth, feeling his hands trying to lift your shirt. You lift your arms, revealing your bare breasts to him as he tosses your shirt away.

He groans, trying to contain himself from acting like a teenage boy who's just discovered porno mags for the first time. His mouth instantly attaches to your breasts, his mouth finding your nipple with no warning.

You gasps, taking a moment to steady yourself physically and mentally before sliding your hand into the back of his hair. "Yeah, feels good baby." You mumble, beginning to pull at his hair and pull his head away.

He breaks from your beast with a pop, but you pull his shirt off, your eyes scanning his chest and seeing his happy trail that leads down to his pink and now leaky cock. Your nails drag down his chest before lifting up, looking up and locking eyes as you silently ask for assistance as you line him up.

You sink down on him, hearing his breath shake in your ear until he lets a moan out as he bottoms out. You want to laugh at him, but the sheer size of him chokes you up that you're left basically speechless over the size and stretch inside of you. You struggle to move due to how full you are at first, awkward grinding before you can find your rhythm.

Holland's hands rest on your ass, but begin to slide everywhere, not settling one place as he explores your naked body.

"God you're perfect, this is perfect. You're so beautiful. You're amazing." You giggle into his mouth, both of your lips hovering each other as your noses bump. You push his hair down, "it's okay." You assure him, pecking his mouth.

He nods, his mouth trailing down as his lips quickly find their way to your breast again, switching back between kissing each one, not wanting to give any particular one more attention than the other.

You suck in a breath as he hits your g spot, still in awe of his size as you roll your hips and move against him.

"I-" he gulps, panting as his voice shakes while he tries to speak to you. "I don't think I'll last long." He grabs your hand, holding it and resting them on his chest. You aren't shocked to hear that, not after he told you he hasn't been with anyone in over six years.

"That's okay. It's fine." You whispers, squeezing his hand, he nods to reassure himself before his free hand is sliding down, thumbing at your clit. "Is that okay?" He mumbles out, rushed and nervous.

You nod and clench around him at the feeling. You haven't been touched like this is months, not like this. Holland just knows what to do, knows how to please you.

He looks up, seeing you blissed out as you bounce on his cock, your nipple in his mouth, him deep inside you as he rubs you, for a second he really believes you're an angel. His head falls back and his mouth falls open, he's thrusting up into you as he calls your name. "I'm cumming, fuck- oh sweetheart- ah-"

The noise between your legs grows louder and sloppier as Holland cums, and you would normally be embarrassed if you weren't so desperate to finish or if you knew he cared.

His thumb doesn't stall, still rubbing your clit even though he is trying to recover from his orgasm. You feel yourself begin to spasm around him, your movements growing sloppy until the band in your belly finally snaps and you begin to gush around his cock.

You rest your head on his, both of you trying to catch your breath. You slowly pull off of him, sitting back on his lap now that your legs are fully asleep with pins and needles prickling them.

"This wasn't- I didn't think that was going to happen, by the way. That's not why I came over tonight." You nod at his words, softly laughing. There's no way either of you could've known this was going to happen, especially with your earlier annoyance at his constant texting.

"That's okay. I'm glad it did." You admit, feeling a little vulnerable for once now that you realize you're not just physically naked but also emotionally.

"Me too, sweetheart."