The mattress dipped behind your bent knees, springs protesting with a familiar groan. You didn't bother looking back. You knew that weight, that particular brand of intrusion that always came with a little too much confidence and not nearly enough shame. 

And right on cue, a broad hand settled over the back of your thigh, dragging upward in a casual, unhurried intent.

"What'cha readin', babe?" Eddie asked, voice dipped in that low tone he seemed to reserve exclusively for moments like this; when you were conveniently arranged in a way that made his brain short-circuit into something far less gentlemanly.

You shrugged, turning another page with lazy disinterest, refusing to give him the satisfaction of eye contact. "Just some magazines I found. This one's a cooking one."

He hummed, though the sound lacked any genuine investment. His palm came down again, this time with a firmer pat, not quite rough but definitely purposeful. His eyes lingered as the contact set off a soft, enticing jiggle.

"Mm," he murmured, like he'd just discovered something profoundly interesting.

"Ooh--this one actually looks good." You lifted the magazine slightly, angling it back so he could see the glossy photo. Something baked.

There was a pause. Not long. Just enough to be suspicious.

"Looks delicious," Eddie said, tone rich with a kind of hunger that had absolutely nothing to do with food.

You accepted it at face value, lowering the page again, eyes skimming the instructions. Preheat the oven to-

Behind you, his hand had grown... exploratory. Less idle, more acquisitive. Fingers tracing the curve of your thigh, creeping higher with slow contemplation, like he was mapping territory he already knew by heart but insisted on rediscovering anyway.

You exhaled through your nose, rolling your eyes, but didn't comment. Not yet.

That is, until his hand slipped beneath the curve of your cheek, palm pressing forward. A second later, his other hand joined it, cupping the underside of your butt with a little force.

Okay. Yeah. He definitely wasn't listening.

You shifted slightly, a subtle attempt to dislodge him or at least remind him you were, in fact, trying to read. It lasted all of two seconds.

Because then something pressed into you. Not a hand, not quite.

Your entire body went stiff as realization crept in, slow and mortifying, just as you felt the unmistakable brush of his nose against your backside--followed by a long, exaggerated inhale.

"Oh my--dude--Eddie!" You twisted around, scandalized, catching him just in time to hear his pleased little groan.

"You smell s'good," he muttered into your ass, words slightly muffled, his grin evident in the way his lips curved where they were half-buried. He was absurdly earnest about it too, like, genuinely, thought this was a normal observation to share out loud.

And you felt all of it, the way his lips moved, the way he softly inhaled and sighed, the way the warmth seeped into your leggings. Your face burned instantly. "Get off my ass, Eddie."

"Why don't you just keep readin', hm?" he replied, entirely too casual for someone who had just done... whatever that was.

He finally pulled back, sitting up, dark curls falling into his face as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Like this was a perfectly standard Tuesday activity.

You narrowed your eyes, but before you could properly retaliate, his hands were back, firm on your legs as he nudged your knees apart slightly, settling in behind you.

His grin sharpened as his palms returned to their previous position, squeezing with slow, appreciative pressure, thumbs pressing in like he was testing the give of something he found particularly fascinating.

You turned back around quickly, burying your face in the magazine to hide the heat crawling up your neck. Focus. Cooking. Ingredients. Measurements. Anything but--

Smack!

The sound was sharp, cutting clean through your concentration. You jolted, the magazine crinkling in your grip as you whipped your head back again, eyes wide, face now thoroughly flushed.

"Eddie! Are you serious?!"

"Mhm." His response was maddeningly simple, completely unrepentant as he watched the aftershock with scholarly interest. 

And then his hands resumed their rhythm. Cupping. Squeezing. Another smack he completely soaked up. He was chasing the movement, cataloging it, committing it to memory with an attention span he rarely afforded anything else.

A slow, deep breath of frustration escaped you as you gave in and turned away again, trying to force your mind back to the mundane world of glossy magazine pages. Maybe this is all it was; Eddie just being Eddie, a little perv who liked to mess with your butt on lazy evenings while you tried to read. That's all this could be. 

With that thought, your eyes trailed back at the magazine, scanning for the paragraph you'd been halfway through.

But Eddie didn't like your attention shifting. He broke the rhythm of his casual touches and delivered a smack harder than before. You gasped feeling everything this time, flesh trembling under the impact, and you knew he saw all of it: the ripple, the flush, the way your hips clenched.

You whipped back around, heat rising in your cheeks, about to yell at your boyfriend, but before you could, his ringed hand grabbed your head, fingers curling into your hair, and turned it back around. Wha-

"Keep reading." His voice was low, a command, not a suggestion. It made you blink in disbelief, staring blankly at the wall. Was he seriously--?! You scoffed, wanting to shoot him a glare, but instead you listened (for whatever reason), looked back down at the cooking magazine and felt his hand retreat, leaving your scalp tingling.

You fumbled with the pages, adjusting the magazine in your hands as you listened to him behind you. Once you had a grasp, you flipped the page, the paper rustling softly, just as his hands found your ass again, giving it a good squeeze. Not just a pat, but a nice full grip that made the fabric of your leggings strain through his fingers.

You ignored his little hum of approval, trying to focus on the text about how this recipe was a number one choice for family dinners. But then, his hands gently rubbed up, fingers tracing the curve of your hips before they curled into the waistband of your leggings and your underwear. He gave a slow tug, pulling them down.

You froze, muscles locking as you felt your bottom exposed to the cool air of the room and his warm breath that ghosted over your skin. You looked over your shoulder, voice fluctuating. "Eddi--"

"Shh." He hushed you firmly before lifting your hips with ease, continuing to peel your leggings and underwear down until they slid completely off. Your heartbeat thrummed wildly as you heard the soft thump of your leggings hitting the floor, leaving your lower half completely bare, exposed to him and the room. "God..." He mumbled pleased, his warm hands cupping your bare ass like one would with porcelain, palms sliding over the flushed skin, tracing every curve and dip. You tensed, breath catching in your throat.

Was he seriously doing this? Your fingers clutched the magazine pages tightly, eyes wide as you felt the bed oscillating with him. He moved to lay behind you, half on the bed and half off. Once you felt him do another firm squeeze and press his soft lips to your cheek, you knew he was seriously doing this. His soft brown hair fell onto your skin, tickling it as he moved to give the other side the same tender kiss, his mouth lingering a second too long.

Nerves started to get to you as you let your head drop, your skin prickling with a warmth that spread. A slow fog of lust started to cloud your thoughts, your senses. Now, a dull, throbbing ache settled low in your belly.

You felt his soft breath and the shift of his hair as he moved back, just enough to get a good look at your bottom. Then his hands gripped your cheeks, spreading them apart with a gentle but firm pressure, exposing you further before he brought his palm down in a sharp, stinging smack. You flinched, a small pant leaving your lips, body shuddering under the impact.

His muttered words were barely audible, but they cut through the haze of sensation you were drowning in. "You're getting wet down here." 

Your chest seized in a sharp spike of embarrassment, a rush of heat flooding your face. But the shame vanished almost instantly, washed away as he spread your cheeks wider and leaned down. 

The warmth of his breath hit your skin before his tongue pressed flat against your slick pussy, a slow meaningful stroke from bottom to top.

You gasped softly, a shudder wracking your spine as he licked a wet path upward, not stopping until his tongue reached your puckered star. You tensed again, a small moan escaping you as the sensation bordered on too much, too intimate. He laughed softly, the airiness of his chuckle hitting against your now saliva-slick parts. 

"You taste s' sweet," he murmured, the words thick and appreciative. They made you melt, body softening into the mattress as you lowered your face into the covers, burying your embarrassment in the soft fabric. You shifted the magazine to cover the back of your head, a thin shield against the intensity of his gaze.

Eddie gave a sonorous but satisfied hum, the sound dripping with pleasure, before he fixed his ringed hands over your cheeks again, adjusting his grip to spread you wider, giving himself a better view, better access. 

Then, just as before, he leaned down, his long hair brushing against your sensitive skin. Only this time, his plush lips met your hole with a soft kiss--a gesture so intimate it made you bite your lip hard, stifling a whimper. He came back up with an obscene, wet smack of his lips against your skin before diving down again for a few more kisses, each one lingering, each one making your arousal spike fiercely.

And it checked out: your folds slickened further, your clit beginning to throb with a persistent, needy pulse that matched your heartbeat. You felt yourself clench when he suddenly swirled his tongue around your rim, teasing the entrance with wet dizzying circles that made you release a loud, unfiltered moan.

You felt his lips curl up against your skin, a smirk you couldn't see but could feel, and his hands gently squeezed the softness of your ass before he lifted his head. You felt a pang of disappointment at the loss, a quiet whine building in your throat until you felt a sudden, shocking wet warmth splat directly on your hole, accompanied by a soft, "pwhut!" sound from him.

Did he just--?!

"Did you just spit on me?!" you scoffed, indignation flaring as you removed the magazine from your head, turning just enough to glance back at him. You saw him already looking at you with a wide, boyish grin, those doe eyes glittering with mischief and unadulterated fervor.

"Gotta lube you up, babe," he shrugged, the explanation casual, almost lazy, before his gaze dropped and he dipped down again. You immediately looked back in front of you, surrendering to what was coming as his tongue was back on you, swirling around once more before he slowly, steadily pushed it into you.

You groaned at the stretch, your toes curling from the slimy, wet feeling of his tongue entering you. If the throbbing wasn't bad before, it was undeniably overwhelming now, a relentless pulse between your legs that echoed the invasion.

"Ow... fuck," you breathed, the words strained. You altered your composure to your hands, finally letting go of the magazine so your hands could grip onto the blankets instead.

In response, his thumbs gently rubbed over your cheeks, a coaxing, soothing motion, before he moved his long tongue deeper, pushing further into you. He groaned just as you whined--the uncomfortable stretch transforming into something more pleasurable. A fullness that began to spark heat through your veins.

You blinked, feeling a little dazed, lost in the sensation, as one of his hands removed itself from your bottom. Your lips parted to ask what he was doing, but before you could speak, you felt the tips of his index and middle finger press against your weeping cunt. You gasped sharply as he sank his thick fingers easily inside, your walls fluttering around him instantly, producing a loud, wet, squelching sound.

"Eddie!" you hissed, your lips parting wide. A mix of shock and pleasure washed over you as he did one final push with both his tongue and his ringed fingers, burying them deep. He barely gave you a second to recover, to process, before he started to move--thrusting his fingers and his tongue in a relentless, synchronized rhythm. The dual sensations, the penetration from two points, made loud, wet squelches fill the air, though the sound was barely audible over your own ragged gasps and moans. The bed creaked softly under his movements, the whole room feeling charged, thick with the scent of sweat and sex.

You squirmed softly, a subtle undulation of your hips as you pressed deeper into the mattress, seeking relief. He kept swirling his tongue inside you, that slick, relentless motion stretching you more, exploring you with a filthy curiosity that made your breath catch. And what didn't help--every few thrusts, Eddie gave his fingers a little curl that sought out that tender, hidden spot inside you. You clenched around them instantly, a reflexive, desperate tightening. Your lower belly grew tight with aching pressure.

A string of high-pitched curses spilled from your lips, a breathless litany of "fuck" and "Eddie" and "god," cursing him, cursing his skilled hands, cursing the way he knew your body better than you did. It felt so good, an overwhelming tide of sensation that was pulling you toward a peak you could barely resist. Your body trembled, your limbs shaking, the pleasure building to a point where you knew you were teetering on the edge.

"I'm not--fuck--! I'm not gonna last!" you whimpered, your mouth hanging open in a silent gasp as he started to curl his fingers more consistently, each thrust now accompanied by that wicked, upward twist. And then he hit it. That perfect spot, one that made you jolt, a sharp, electric spark shooting up your spine. Your body arched.

The sensation in your belly was too much, a building tsunami of pleasure, as was everything below: the fullness, the wetness, the relentless rhythm. You found yourself gasping out his name, "Eddie--Eddie--" before the climax crashed over you. You squeezed around his fingers and came all over them, a hot, gushing release that soaked his hand and dripped onto the sheets below. That harsh wave of ecstasy left you shuddering and moaning into the mattress.

You caught your breath, panting softly, whining as he gently, slowly popped his fingers out of you, the withdrawal spiking a tender sensation throughout your body. You tensed up more when he retracted his tongue from your ass, that slick, invasive sensation leaving you feeling empty, overwhelmed and sensitive.

You didn't need to look back to know what he did next. You heard the soft, wet sound of his fingers entering his mouth, the quiet suction as he sucked them clean of your juices. He groaned, a deep, self-satisfied sound that vibrated in the quiet room, and made your body prickle warmly. Shame and pride mixed in a confusing, heated flush.

"Mhm. Fuck, makin' me all hard, baby," he muttered, his voice brimming with lust. You gave a soft hum in response to his words, a dopey, post-orgasm smile spreading across your face as you floated back from your high, blissful and dazed.

Eddie quickly sat up, joining you fully on the bed behind you, settling on his knees. You heard the familiar, metallic clink of his belt unbuckling, then the rasp of his pants zipper being pulled down, before a hand came down beside your head, palm flat on the mattress.

"Did so good f'me sweetheart. Just relax now, I've got you," he murmured, leaning over you, his body shadowing yours. One hand pushed boxers down, the thick, flushed length springing free before he grabbed it and pressed down, sliding it between your cheeks. The hot firm flesh nestled comfortably against your wet skin. You sighed quietly, a contented sound, and looked over at his hand before gently reaching for it, your fingers brushing his. Eddie brought his other hand down, moving them so they were over yours, then curling his fingers around your hand. His fingers were still wet, slick with your release and his saliva.

He started to thrust, his hips snapping rhythmically, the tip of his cock disappearing between your bottom before peaking out from your wet crack with each movement, a lewd, tantalizing glimpse before it was buried again. 

"You're s'pretty back here," Eddie gasped, his voice trembling with desire. He snapped his hips a little harder, just to see you jiggle some more, to watch the ripple of your flesh under his thrusts. The sight, the sound, the feel--it was all a perverse, perfect symphony of his need.

You could only moan back, the sensations pulling you deeper into a hazy, blissful fog. Everything about him consumed you; the warmth of his hands curled tightly around yours, the pretty, ragged gasps and groans that escaped his lips, the steady, rhythmic thrusting of his cock between your bottom. It was all so hot, so overwhelming, so perfectly filthy.

"Fuck, baby," he breathed out, gripping your hands a little harder, fingers tightening around yours. A silent signal that he was getting close. You giggled quietly, a soft, breathless sound, your mouth curling upwards in a smile that was both amused and deeply content. 

It was only a couple more thrusts, a few final, desperate snaps of his hips, before he abruptly let go of your hand and slipped his length out from between your cheeks. With a few rough, hurried pumps of his fist, he aimed himself down and came all over your ass, the sticky warmth spurting onto your skin in thick, hot stripes. You felt each splash, a startling, intimate heat, and a small moan left you as you looked over your shoulder to see your skin painted white, glistening under the dim light.

Eddie took a moment, breathing heavily, before leaning down to kiss you, his lips meeting yours with a hunger that left no room for protest. He shoved his tongue into your mouth, making you taste yourself. A mix of salt and sweat and sex. 

It bothered you that his tongue was just somewhere else... but you shrugged it off reluctantly the thought flickering and fading. You kissed him back, your hands grabbing his shirt to bring him closer, to pull him into the heat of your body. He was a perv, yeah, (a dirty, unashamed, relentless perv) but he was your perv, and right now, that felt like everything you needed.

Finally, you pulled away, a string of saliva leaving your lips, connecting you both for a second before it broke. "We needa get cleaned up," you mumbled with a small, tired smile.

Eddie returned it, his grin lazy and satisfied, before quickly getting up. "Wait," he muttered, suddenly looking around the room, his dick still hanging out, soft now but glistening. He then grabbed and pulled out his chunky Polaroid camera from a pile of clutter on his dresser, grinning happily as he turned and pointed it at you, the lens focusing on your naked body.

"Smile, beautiful," he urged, his voice playful.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the little cheeky smile that spread across your face as you looked at the camera, your expression both exhausted and euphoric. The flash went off, blinding white for a second, and you giggled as he quickly took the photo out and shook it, the image slowly developing in his hands.

"K' now we're good," Eddie declared, placing the camera and the fresh photo on his nightstand before helping you off his bed, his hands gentle on your plush hips. "So... shower?" he questioned with raised brows, a hopeful, mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Only if you help me wash all this off," you replied, your voice soft but teasing.

"Fuck yes!" he exclaimed, his enthusiasm bright and genuine as he rushed you toward the bathroom for the inevitable phase two of his plan.

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nvm im a chud and don't wanna actually write my planned one-shots...