maya !!!

After throwing all the rubbish into a garbage bag you drag it to the front door, contemplating for a minute - you could wait for Frank to come home and take it out but ah just get it done now you think, that way Frank can relax when he comes home.

Unfortunately, you catch the attention of one of the tradesmen as you make your way out of the front door lugging the garbage bag out. He's standing in front of his van with is high-vis uniform, eyes following you between your path to the bin and back to the front door.

You're so oblivious that you don't even hear the rumble of Franks truck down the street as he returns home from work, too focused on wiping down the window panes. When Frank gets closer to the house he immediately clocks the workman leaning against his truck and watching into your home, through the open window - like a predator.

He slows down a little before driving past your home and parks his truck a house away from both of yours. Walking up the footpath opposite to your house he stops next to the workman.

"pretty aint she?" Frank says, following the mans eyes as he looks into the open window watching you, his pretty baby, so blissfully unaware. The way you're bopping along and singing to your music as you clean. He tries his very best to level his tone and mask the way he wants to rip the mans eyes out.

The man looks at Frank and stands up a little straighter as if he is afraid he's been caught out till he see's how Frank is also dressed in high vis and cargo pants, assuming he must be another worker. He relaxes back onto his van after being lulled into a false sense of security by Frank.

"hell yeah brother, don't know how anyone can live across that and do nothin about it" the man laughs "been watching her all day and damn" he finishes letting out a wolf whistle his eyes never leaving you. The comment fills Frank instantly with rage, been watching you all day?

"yeah? you gonna do something about it?" Frank grits out, his fists balled and teeth clenched.

"I might, she ain't had a man home the whole day - maybe she needs one, i'll show her what a real man feels like huh" he laughs again looking over to frank before his face drops.

He see's the way Frank is staring back at him with a stone cold look and anger in his eyes. Franks hand grabs the back of the guys head and pushes his face into the pane of his van. "That's my fuckin' wife, if I see you hanging around here again, i'll be cleaning the road with your face - got it?" he grits out, nostrils flaring "get the fuck outta here" he spits out, banging the guys head against the metal of his van with a clang.

"s-shit I didn't know man" the man whimpers before running back around to his van and driving off. Frank stands in the middle of the road staring down his van as it rounds the corner. He looks back to your house and see's you walking around, still in your own little world.

-

You turn towards the door when you hear it open

"Frankie!" you say brightly, blissfully unaware of the fact that Frank had almost caved someones head in for watching you, you didn't need to know he thinks to himself.

He loved you like this, happy and unbothered - as bad as he felt that you did all of this yourself he knows that it's like a form of therapy for you. Home alone, your music blasting as you busy yourself cleaning. This was your home, he wanted you to feel safe and he took that responsibility upon himself.

"hey sweetheart" frank replies, feeling the way the tension instantly leaves his body- he could tell you've been cleaning for most of the day. Your wrinkles shorts and messy hair with the rubber cleaning gloves up your forearms.

He walks over to you, places his hands on your hips and pulls you into him giving you a kiss. He chuckles at the way you keep your arms outstretched beside yourself, not wanting to get the dirty gloves near him but still wanting his lips on yours.

"been busy huh?" he muses looking around him

"Almost done honey" you reply with a quick peck before bouncing off.

Frank chuckles to himself before he picks up the mop bucket and takes it to the laundry to empty it and rinse it out for you.

-

When he makes his way back to the living room he see's you lighting a candle - gloves thrown in the sink.

"you eat today?" he asks coming up behind you

"mhm had lunch not too long ago, you?" you nod, feeling his arms wrap around you.

"yeah..house looks nice baby, thank you" Frank smiles

"yeah? you're welcome Frankie now you can relax huh" you say turning in his arms to face him.

he gives you a simple u-huh before he picks up up and wraps your legs around him. A gleeful shriek escapes you when you feel his grizzly beard nuzzle down your neck as he places kisses down it.

He walks you both over to the couch and places you down. He sinks to his knees in front of you and pushes your legs apart - slotting himself in between.

Your feet come up to rest on the edge of he couch as Frank leans forward to kiss you again. Your lips open for him as you deepen in the kiss, tasting his tongue and your pussy all of a sudden realises just how much she's missed Frank all day.

Frank breaks apart to bring your legs together and you feel his hands pull your shorts and panties from under your hips and peels them off your legs.

"babyyy.. what are you doing" you say with a breathy laugh.

"I'm relaxin, thought you wanted me to relax honey" he drawls as he throws your shorts and panties over his shoulder and picks your feet up to place them back where they were on the edge of the couch, spreading your legs wide open for him again.

The heady scent from your cunt fills his senses instantly and pulls him further down between your legs like his been hook, line and sinker-ed. He can't wait to taste you, can't wait to thank you, cannot wait to make you scream his name so loud that the whoever is trying to look in from the windows knows they could never make you feel as good as he can.

Without a second to spare he dives in - his broad tongue licking a fat stripe up your slit. Instantly making your hips twitch "uhh fuck baby" you gasp as your hand grips into his hair. He grunts into your pussy in response as he laps away, licking up your juices as both his palms stay firm on the underside of your thighs keeping you nice and open for him to dine.

He can smell the sweat from your labours of the day and loves the way it mixes with the salty sweet nectar from your cunt. "taste so good baby, been working so hard for me today huh" he grunts into your pussy with a deep inhale as his hands start massaging your thighs.

Sighing at the relief of your tense muscles and they feel of his tongue your breath hitches when you feel his lips suckle around your clit "gggodd yess-feels so good Frankieee" you whine as your hips start to unconsciously grind into his mouth.

"y-yeahh honey thats it been missin my wifes pussy all fuckin day" frank moans as he hooks his hands behind your ass and pushes you harder into his face. The sounds of him slurping at your cunt are wiped out by the sound of your cries when he pushes two of his fat fingers inside your hole "Fuuuuck Frank oh my god" you all but scream.

Frank's fingers find that sweet spot inside your walls instantly as his mouth returns to your clit and he starts sucking away. You look down at him, the site of him slobbering between your legs has your chest heaving. He looks so beautiful like this you think to yourself. His eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he look up at you with his pleading brown eyes begging to taste your cum.

You feel the tightening in your belly as your hips start to grind back and forth, fucking yourself on his fingers. His lips continue suckling away at your clit when you start to pulse around his fingers " yesyesyes-fuuuuckk m'coming frankiee ohmygoddd" you cry out as your thighs start to tremble and lock around his head.

"c'mon baby thats it, give it to me fuck" he begs into your pulsing cunt as your chest heaves off the back of the couch - your orgasm hits you, your walls tighten around Franks fingers pushing into your wet hole, his lips locked around your sensitive clit. He doesn't ease up as he works you through your high, not until he feels your legs turn to jelly as they fall open again, loose and relaxed.

He kisses his way back up to your lips. Your eyes flutter open as you look up at him, his lower face glistening with your cum and his toothy grin. You push yourself up and lick his lips, tasting your salty release before kissing him. Your legs come down off the couch, each foot placed on either side of him as you stand up,

"c'mon puppy" you coo at him sweetly as you run your fingers through his hair "let me show you how nice the shower looks now"

He places one last kiss on your cunt before he stands up, you hold his hand and lead him back to the bathroom.

You really were excited to show him how clean the shower was....

---

You roll your eyes at yourself 'idiot' you think, you're sure it's nothing - you're reading a book about a serial killer, obviously your brain is going to start playing tricks on you right? You've almost convinced yourself till another thud, closer this time spikes your pulse.

Grabbing your phone to message Frank.

Frank has just finished locking up on site when he sees your message, his brows furrow in confusion.

You

frank is that you?

almost instantly your phone buzzes with a reply but the sound of shattering glass causes you to jump out of bed and your phone goes flying out of your hand. You can hear footsteps downstairs.. and you know its not Frank...

Frankie ❤️

what do you mean ?

Frank starts to worry when you don't reply. He starts the truck after sending you another message.

Frankie ❤️

baby? whats goin on?

Again, no reply from you - he picks up his phone to call you.

Your heart drops when you hear your phone start ringing as you scramble over the bed to silence it. You hear the movements halt. Shit shit shit.

Franks internal alarm bells start blaring when he gets sent to voicemail. It's not like you, either you answer or it rings out if you're busy - never sent to voicemail. He floors the accelerator and expertly weaves through the streets.

Before you can open your phone to call Frank or the police or anyone you hear the footsteps stop right in front of the bedroom door. Your palm covers your mouth trying to mask the sound of your shaky breathing. You try your best to crawl into the wardrobe without making a sound.

And you almost make it.. almost before your bedroom door swings open. You look up to see a man, with a bandana across the lower half of his face a baseball hat on. Your eyes grow wide, unsure of what to do next.

"well aren't you pretty" he purrs in a slimy drawl that makes the hair on the back of your neck. You don't reply, chest heaving as your panic sets in. He stalks towards you and against your better judgement you launch off the ground and run past him out of the bedroom.

He gains on your pretty quickly, you make it just to the end of the stairwell when you feel yourself being pulled back by your hair.

"gonna tell me where all the good stuff is or do I have to make you?" he breathes out, waay too close to your neck. Your body goes rigid when you feel his sweaty hand on your bare leg.

"fuck off" you spit out before you kick him between his legs and make a run for to backdoor through the laundry.

"bitch!" he yells out

You hear his heavy footsteps run behind you again, from the corner of your eyes you see him reach for you. You try and dodge him but your foot gets caught on the rug and you fall forward. The guys stands before you, laughing as he makes his way forward.

"touch her you'll be dead before you hit the ground" you hear Franks rage filled voice boom through the hall and the guy stills. You look past the guy and see Frank standing there. His large stature taking up most of the doorframe to the laundry. Eyes wild, nostrils flared as his chest rises and falls rapidly.

He looks to you quickly, relief inside of him when he see's you're not hurt - just scared with your wide eyes looking up at him.

The man tries to make a run for Frank, stupid mistake. You hear a sickening crack as Frank's fist collides with the guys jaw and he falls to the floor. Franks fists balled so tight "you picked the wrong house mother fucker" he grunts out as he kneels on top of this guy, his heavy knee digging into the mans chest and Frank starts laying into him.

You look at Frank not sure if you can recall ever seeing him this enraged. As you start to see spatters of red on his knuckles.

"F-frank" you call out to him and he snaps out of his fixated state and looks up at you like a dog who's owner just called him back

Frank steps over the guys body as he writhes in pain on the floor. "did he touch you baby you hurt?" he asks you frantically as his brown eyes dart all over you. You shake your head 'n-no m'ok" you reply voice so small and meek and it breaks Frank's heart.

He turns to the guy again as he tries to get up and Frank is on him straight away. His big arms wrap around his neck as he puts him in a headlock with the mans body flailing around like a fish out of water and he drags him out of the laundry.

"you so much as think about even coming near this street again I swear to god I'll end your fucking life" he grunts out as the guy runs out of your home whimpering like an injured animal.

He locks the house back up then comes back and finds you still sitting in the same position. Back against the door as he sinks down to you. His blood stained hands, twitching but warm on your thigh as he tilts his head down to meet your eyes.

"are you sure you're not hurt sweetheart? he asks again, voice a little shaky. You try to reply but nothing comes out, just a breathy inhale.

"baby please say something" he pleads

You open your mouth to try and respond but all that comes out is a choked sob as your eyes fill with tears. You crawl into Franks lap and you feel his arms wrap around you so tight as if you'll slip away.

"i'm here baby i'm right here" Frank coos

"i-i'm sorry, -i d-didn't know what to d-do" you let out through your sobs, gasping for air as the adrenaline leaves your body. But he's there, solid, arms around you as you feel one of his palms cup your face and tilt your head up a little. He see's your big strained doe eyes, tears streaming out of them.

"no- don't-baby i-im sorry, i'm sorry I wasn't here" he says shaking his head as he kisses your tears away because what on earth did you have to be sorry for he thinks.

You both stay like that for a few minutes as your sobs calm to a sniffle. He picks you up and takes you back to the bedroom trying to shield you from the mess that your home now is after the break-in, he'll take care of it after he puts you to bed he tells himself.

He takes you into the bathroom and turns the shower on, and starts to gently peel off your night slip from your sweat slicked body. He rips off his clothes and takes you into the shower with him. You're both quiet as you clean each other, you take extra care around the his raw knuckles still slightly split from breaking the other mans face. Frank's hands are so gentle with as he lathers your body up with soap. Dotting soft kisses around your face and neck. Wishing he could wash away the memory of what happened from your mind as he watches the suds flow down the drain.

--

The shower turns off with a creak and Frank wraps your fluffy towel around you then another around his waist. He goes to take a t-shirt out of his draw to pull it over you before your hands gingerly halt his movements.

"frankie.." you say softly

"what is it honey?" he asks, his attention on you straight away.

"c-can you touch me baby, i just.. just w-wanna feel you, wanna feel good" you breathe out in a shaky whisper as your hands trail up his arms

he's quiet for a moment, contemplating - he wasn't going to ask you about what happened tonight - not when you were this upset but he just wanted to help you and god did he want to make you feel good.

"you sure angel?" he coo's softly, eyes darting between yours with is palm sliding up your neck.

"please" you sigh as you bring your lips up to him. You undo your own towel and it pools at your feet. Frank breaks apart ever so slightly and looks between your bodies. The sight of your heaving chest as your tits press up against him sends a rush of blood straight to his cock.

"we're going slow tonight alright baby?" he whispers as deepens your kiss.

You moan softly into his mouth with a mumbled "mhm, okay"

Picking you up he walks you to the bed and sits you down. You push yourself back further up the bed as you watch Frank take his towel off and let it drop to the floor. He's already hard as he climbs over you, your legs open as he settled between you. You feel the weight of his cock resting heavy on top of your pelvis.

His mouth is on you again, his tongue opening your mouth up for him as you feel his hand trace your inner thigh. You feel one of his fingers dip into you checking to see if you're ready. And boy are you, soaking wet already as he glides in and pulls your slick back up and circles it over your clit. Your hips impatiently grind up into his hand. Unsure if it's the adrenaline but you can't wait tonight, you need him, need to know he's really here.

"frank, please i-i need you-please, wanna feel you" you all but cry.

His hand splays wide on your thigh as he looks into your watery eyes. He see's the desperation in them, and god he needs you just as bad as you need him. Tonight was the closest he has ever come to anything happening to you. He felt that weight deep in his chest. He needed to know you were okay, you were here. with him.

"I'm here honey, frankie's right here yeah baby?" he whispers as he starts to ease his cock into you.

Your moan leaves you in a gasp as you nod your head at him. Your eyebrows knitted together as he fills you full to the brim as he mirrors your expression. His beautiful brown eyes stare into your fluttering eyes as his tries and fails to hold back his groan as the feel of your warm wet walls sucking his cock in.

His hands are everywhere, running up your legs and the side of your torso before he wraps his arms around you - tight and protective like he simply could not let you go.

The feeling is so intense as he starts to rock his hips in and out of you slow, your emotions still heightened from the events of the evening.

"never gonna let anyone touch you baby, you're mine yeah? aint nothing gonna happen to you angel" you hear him cooing at you

You feel your heart swell as your pussy continues to cry around his cock.

"love you frankie' you moan into his mouth tears streaming down your face.

"i love you too baby, so goddamn much" he grunts softly, pushing his cock deeper into you as he looks down at his sweet angel.

The room fills with sounds of your wet squelch taking Franks thick cock as both of your breathy moans getting heavier and heavier. Your legs wrap tighter around Frank's waist when you start getting close as your pussy starts to pulse.

He feels your hands hook over his shoulder, as your kiss turns more desperate. Your tongue and his intertwined just like the rest of your bodies. He feels your walls tightening around him as he continues his slow drags.

Bringing one of his hands between your bodies he circles gently around your puffy clit with his finger bringing you over the edge. You feel the flutter in your belly as your walls start to convulse around him.

"y-yesss baby" you mewl into his mouth

"yeah thats it honey, let frankie make you feel good yeah? thats my baby" he coos as your nails bite into his shoulders, lips locked on his as your orgasm crashes over you.

"want you inside baby, please, cum inside of me, wanna feel you-all of you" you whine when you feel Franks breaths grow more ragged

Frank swallows your breathy pleas in his mouth as he pushes into you a few more times before he spills out into you. "so perfect for me baby" you whine as you grind your hips down on his empty cock. Feeling the warmth of his and your cum, gooey around the base of his cock and your hole.

Your lips are still connected as he lays on top of you, his cock still nestled away inside your warm hole. After a few minutes he tries to pull out but feels your legs lock tighter around him.

"sweetheart, gotta clean you up" he whispers with a soft kiss on your forehead.

you shake your head "stay" you quietly beg looking up at him.

How could he refuse, his sweet girl, just needing to feel him close. So he does, he'll stay like this for the whole night if thats what you needed. And it's exactly what you need, the way he made you feel so safe with his body heavy on yours and the warmth of his arms around you.

No one could touch you if he was here, like this, and he would make damn sure that no one ever would.

--

Frank is leaning on the wall and you're leaning on him, mindlessly scrolling on your phone as Frank scans the room. Everyone’s waiting for their orders, enjoying the sunny day and talking amongst themselves. Everyone apart from some man, who looked like he was in his late 40's and had much too high of an opinion of himself.

His aggressive tone pulls your eyes from your phone screen as you look up to see him spitting venom in his words at Maya - calling her incompetent and to "learn how to speak english better if she was working in a service job". Looking across him you see her poor wide eyes trying to hold back tears. You try and fail to mask the look of disgust on your face before you push yourself off from Frank and feel him tense beneath you.But before he can pull you back you're marching over to him.

"look around you man, everyone is waiting, they're busy - there's no need to talk to her like that" you try and say calmly but cant help the condensation laced in your tone.

He looks down at you, a look of bewilderment crosses his face as if he's wondering what nerve YOU have to speak to HIM like THAT (mind you, your tone was much nicer than the one he was using to yell at Maya).

"get the FUCK out of my face" he spits at you.

Which does nothing but fuel the anger in you before you yell out at him "No. YOU get the fuck out of HER face. Literally everyone is waiting, stop acting like a fucking child" your finger pointed at his chest, almost touching.

Now he turns to face you, seething. He looks down at your finger pointed to him, rage filled in his eyes "Yeah thats what all you filthy immigrants do, come here and band together and ruin our fuckin country"

You feel Frank moving before you even see him. Before you can even open your mouth to retaliate Frank is in front of you. Towering over the man and looking down at him, his palms clasped together in front of him. "why don't you get in my face then, feel like a big man? yellin at women like that? yell at me, c'mon" he grunts out, his tone low and dark and almost mocking.

You turn back to Maya and ask if she's okay. She gives you a quick nod before wiping her tears and you peek your head around Frank's back to look at the man. You see the way he gulps and shrinks into himself, when he looks up at Frank. "i--just been waiting a long time, its one coffee man" he stammers over his words. "don't wanna wait then fuck off" Frank says, simply and final - not leaving much room for choice.

You see the man weigh up his options, realising it would be a very stupid decision to go toe to toe with the man in front of him. "alright man jeez" he says low before scurrying out of the cafe. Franks eyes follow him as he leaves before he turns to you. Hand on your waist giving you a little squeeze "my little hothead" he whispers fondly before giving you a kiss on the side of your head. You both turn to the counter "y'alright sweetheart?" he asks Maya, "y-yeah, thanks you two" she smiles before handing over your coffees and a brown paper bag. "Oh I think it was just the coffees honey" you say kindly attempting to hand the bag back to her. "on the house" she winks as she shoo's you both off.

Frank looks inside and see's a slice of the tiramisu he loves and laughs. "Maybe you gotta yell at people more often if it means we get free tiramisu, you're also really sexy when you yell at people". You roll your eyes gently nudging him as you walk back home for hopefully a drama free rest of your weekend.

--

---

Frank is a surprisingly active participant of wedding planning, but not necessarily for the details. He’s more of a schedule guy, the one that makes sure the two of you get to all the meetings, tastings and test runs. He’s the one that allots mental energy for remembering dates, meeting times, and the subsequent travel times it takes to get there and organizing them on a schedule.

He’s also the calmer one between the two of you when you start to get too into everything that could go wrong.

So far, it’s been tiring. Truly. Nearly half a year of your weekends and after work days being occupied with planning. Half a year and still neither of you have decided whose side Karen is going to participate in within your mixed gender bridesmaids and groomsmen because you two met her at arguably the same time in your lives.

Half a year of feeling like you’re in and out of the wringer, the only thing making it worth it being the thought of the success of the event itself, the excitement for the coffee flavored wedding cake, and the fact that you were one of the luckier ones to have your fiancé be so involved in the process of wedding preparation.

Half a year in, and you finally break.

—

Friday. Your solo drive home from work is quiet, music on low. Work had been incessantly overstimulating, so much so that even enjoyable stimuli was just too much.

You’re looking forward to getting home and being in your lover’s arms, having a nice hot shower together, good food, good company, maybe some well deserved lovemaking to get you to sleep (if you both don’t pass out first, you’ve no idea of the kind of day Frank’s had, but you’re tired for sure) and then wake up to the weekend well past noon.

Perfect. You’re desperate for a recharge. Just two days of nothing but rest and recuperation and you’ll be half ready for the week after that. It’ll be enough to get you by.

You even made sure to crunch and finish some extra deadlines at work early, just so you get to pretend to work on them when you get back in the office on Monday next week.

You get home first, Frank’s van absent from the garage. No matter. The moment you unlock the door to your shared home and lock it again (as per his insistent requests), you’re practically already stripping yourself of your work clothes, dumping them by the bathroom floor.

You shoot Frank a text that you’re in the shower and extend an invitation for him to join once he gets home. You don’t bother waiting for his reply before you jump straight in and turn on the water.

The first breath you take as the water hits your skin feels special despite the mundanity of the act. It’s the kind of shower you wish could seep into your spine, but hot water can only make you feel so warm without making you feel like you’re singeing off your skin.

You immerse yourself into the act of just standing under the spray for a long, long while, not registering the opening of the bathroom door.

“Sweetheart?”

Your eyes open. Frank’s here. You didn’t even hear the main door unlock. You see the blur of his silhouette through the shower curtain. He’s standing by the door.

“Hi, Frankie.” You smile to yourself, inching the curtain open slightly behind you, then letting yourself take a quick peek.

“I uh, got your text.” He shucks off his jacket, brows raised, waiting for more confirmation in case you’d changed your mind.

Cute. You can’t help the chuckle that leaves you. “So why are you still out there and not in here?”

He grins at your reply, lifting off his shirt and undoing his belt to take off his pants. That’s all the confirmation he needs.

—

You end up just hugging Frank in the shower once he enters, and admittedly, he may have misread the mood. (Not that shared showers without sex were uncommon for both of you, he’d just been anticipating getting on his knees to get you off, relieve some of your stress.)

Regardless, he holds you in return, content just to spend time with you in such close proximity. “Long day?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You angle your head for a kiss and he responds in kind, pressing his lips to yours. His hands move to your tailbone, pressing his fingers into the divots in small circles.

Heavenly. It’s so fucking good coming home to Frank who knows how to touch you, knows how to soothe with his gentle strength, knows how to translate how well he understands you into action. You hug him tighter and he relishes in the way you melt into him and groan.

“How about you?” You ask, cheek pressed into his chest.

“Eh, th’ usual.” He shrugs. Not being in an office made for less eventful workdays, he’s found. He might also just be lucky that this new crew at the jobsite was full of people who minded their own business most of the time.

“What’d you want f’r dinner? Meatballs or chicken alfredo?” He offers options as he continues his massage because he can tell the last thing you want is yet another decision on your mind, but he still wants your preferences considered.

You make your choice as Frank squeezes some shampoo onto his hands, massaging it into your scalp. You busy yourself with lathering soap onto his skin, which was totally not just an excuse to get your hands all over his chest.

The shower ends with the two of you towelling off each other’s hair, and you emerge from the bedroom to one of your favorite nightgowns on the bed, old and worn in, fabric softened by use. Beside it was a pair of panties as well. The garments likely placed here the moment Frank got home and before he entered the shower with you. Your lover makes no mention of the silent acts of service, instead, he’s already left the room after putting on a shirt and a pair of sweats, beelining for the kitchen to prep dinner.

You soak it all in with another deep inhale, towel still wrapped around you, alone in your shared bedroom. Just like that, the day’s pace had slowed completely from it’s earlier hectic rhythm. You didn’t have to do everything on your own anymore. Not for a long time. Not as long as Frank’s around.

Frank has a knack for calming you down like it’s as simple as breathing.

—

Your fiancé has a sauce going in a pot when you emerge from the bedroom. You go straight to making drinks.

“We don’t have anything scheduled for tomorrow, right?” You ask. If there was, Frank would’ve mentioned it by now. He manages to be more on top of the schedule than you are.

Not that you aren’t keeping track on your own calendar. Still, it doesn’t hurt to confirm.

Frank’s licking off his thumb when he turns to you, taste testing the sauce from the ladle. “Nothin’ f’r tomorrow, sweetheart. Y’can sleep in.”

You let out a faux whispered, bodily exaggerated ‘yes!’ that endears him as he works on the food on the stove.

“Try this.” He blows air gently onto a spoonful of sauce before presenting it to you.

Frank is a good cook even though he’s the kind that doesn’t measure, just trial and error, small adjustments each time until he gets it as delicious as he can manage. You hum once the flavor hits your tastebuds.

“It’s good.” You hum up at him, kissing his cheek. He receives your affection with a small grin as he turns off the stove and starts making two plates.

“Y’know…” You start. “Having nothing scheduled for tomorrow also means we can spend more time together later tonight.” You hint at him, batting your lashes when the two of you meet at the dining table.

Frank knows that look, he gets it often, and he considers himself one lucky bastard for it. “Yeah? Need a little somethin’ t’help you sleep, huh?”

He sits down beside you, and the mischief apparent on your face, coupled with the way you press your cheek into his shoulder as you nod, begets your answer.

—

Dinner passes at its regular pace even with your proposition for sex later that night. Frank isn’t really the type to horse around when the matter came to food. Meanwhile, you’re just basking in the experience of being able to express wanting sex without a man immediately wanting to rush into it like a shark smelling blood.

You’re at home here. At home with Frank. You love it.

By the time 8pm rolls around, the plates are in the dishwasher, kitchen and dining area clean. The two of you take turns brushing your teeth by the bathroom sink and freshening up.

Frank has you on his lap in bed by 8:15. He’s shirtless, gone commando in his sweats. His hands are under your nightgown, petting your thighs, lips pressing against yours in open-mouthed kisses.

“I’ve missed you all week.” You sigh, melting into the way Frank slowly locks your lips together.

“Mm, missed you too, sweetheart.” He noses along the junction of your neck, pressing his lips to your skin every once in a while. “Don’t think I’ve ever clocked out faster in my life when I saw y’r text. Needed that shower with y’real bad.” Frank chuckles.

This week was especially packed for some reason, there being genuinely no day from the past six days that didn’t entail a call or a meeting with your wedding planners and suppliers.

All that, on top of both your full time jobs, was nothing if not draining the life out of you. The two of you barely had time to indulge in each other past the usual routine of dinner together and five minutes of TV before succumbing to sleep.

It was reassuring to hear that Frank needed you the same way you needed him right now.

You smile tiredly at his words, eyes closing as Frank’s hands move back over your clothes, cupping your chest to thumb circles on your nipples. “Ah… mm—” He meets your lips in another kiss, making your body run even warmer.

A string of saliva separates you two when you part, your own hands squeezing Frank’s biceps.

“Was ready to get down on my knees in the shower and eat y’out.” He confesses. “Help my girl relax after a long week.”

You let out an amused hum, face flushed, lips bitten. That did sound amazing, but you had a different order for your mental itinerary.

“I can’t say I’m not a fan of that…” You chuckle. “But I wanted to finish everything first.” You feel Frank’s hand cup your cheek, and you respond by leaning into it and placing your own hand over the back of his. “So there won’t be anything left to interrupt us.”

“Yeah, figured.” He replies, tilting his head to the side with this tender gaze, simply admiring your features. He smiles, closes his eyes briefly when you lean in at kiss the bridge of his nose.

“Y’got any ideas, sweetheart?” He asks, looking up at you again, tone low, thumbs now circling your hips over your loose clothing. “I’ll make ‘em happen.”

Frank likes it when you get to choose how he gets to touch you.

Warmth spreads through your body at the question. Regardless, you did have a position in mind, your back to Frank’s chest, his hands all over your body, legs spread over his strong thighs while you’re impaled on his cock.

Your mouth waters at the thought.

“Yeah.” You reply.

He watches you as you turn, quick to realize the position you’re going for, hands hovering under your forearms in case you lose balance. You sit yourself on Frank’s lap in the exact way you’d imagined and he pulls you close to him.

“You like this position a lot, don’tcha?” He murmurs from behind you.

Your spine tingles from the sound of your lover’s voice. You’re flustered as you reply, as if caught doing something you shouldn’t be. “I like when you hold me.”

“That right?” He kisses along the side of your neck, humming when you tilt your head to accomodate the action. “Want me to fuck you just like this, huh?”

Your hips grind down on his lap at the thought he proposes. “Yes.” You look up at him. “Please.”

“Alright, baby.” He coos. “Relax f’me.”

He noses along the base of your neck, grunting in satisfaction when you grab him by the wrists to move his hands, one at your clothed core and the other at your chest.

“Attagirl.” He can’t help but groan. There’s nothing Frank loves more than when you tell him what you want so directly.

He hikes your nightgown up, slips his hand under the waistband of your panties, sighing contentedly at the familiar feel of coarse hair against his fingertips. He finds your clit quickly, circling it in slow, gentle nudges.

His other hand busies itself with cupping your chest, pleasuring your nipples with subtle passes of his fingers.

“Mm—” Electricity buzzes up your spine, pools at the tips of your fingers.

You try giving yourself over to Frank, breathing deep, willing your mind to stay quiet. For once in a long time, there should be no pressing matter at hand other than the sleep you’ll get later, Frank’s hands on your body, and his unspoken but mutually understood promise of multiple, deeply satisfying orgasms.

Frank makes sure of the last one every time, even at the cost of his own (not that you’d ever allow that. You’re both stubborn about each other’s pleasure—which is probably why it’s always so exciting to indulge in each other even after so long together).

But there was a little something that kept nagging at you, persistent, a thought so present in your head that it made it hard for you to empty your mind. You should’ve mentioned it to Frank earlier, but you were too wrapped up in getting to this point.

Frank’s chest is to your back, his warmth seeping into you, voice rumbling behind you as he speaks. He notices you’re still just a tad bit tenser than usual despite his usual gentle touches. “What’re y’thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”

Your shoulders roll. As much effort as you exert, you needed just a bit more help to convince yourself to truly relax. “Just… It’s just tiring. We’re doing so much but we aren’t even halfway done.” You frown.

Your lover nods behind you, knows that you’re referring to the wedding the two of you have been planning for what felt like ages. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “We’re not behind.” He reminds. He’s made sure of it, and you’re nothing but thankful. “Don’t hav’to finish it all so soon either. Just get to what w’can.”

“I know, it’s just…” You take a deep breath, thighs tensing, breath catching with Frank’s ministrations along your clit. “I’m not trying to be ungrateful. This is a great problem to have, but… it’s—” a breath— “exhausting.”

“Mhm.” He listens, lets you verbalize your frustrations as he kisses the tip of your earlobe, stops cupping your chest in favor of holding one of your hands in his own. He takes a while to reply, silently assessing the kind of comfort you need at the moment.

“We’ve got the weekend to ourselves. Sleep in t’morrow. Order out.” Frank offers a comfier perspective.

“Mhm.” You smile, squeezing his hand in slow pulses.

Frank continues speaking. “Close y’r eyes f’me. Yeah? Let me talk to my girl all nice, jus’ how she likes it.”

You sigh, shifting into a more comfortable position. You do as Frank says, closing your eyes. Deep breaths. Letting yourself sink into the feeling of being held and being close and being touched so precisely that the mere memory gets you wet.

Him acknowledging and engaging with your tired thoughts finally clicks your mood fully into a nicer place. He knows you’re exhausted, and now the two of you get to indulge in each other to soothe that tiredness, be the balm to each others sore muscles, sink into the slowness and the pleasure that comes with your personal curated brand of intimacy with Frank.

The familiar feeling of his hands under your clothing, fondling you so affectionately, goes straight to your cunt. The fingers at your mound continue to pet your clit, catching the wetness pooling at your slit to give you a smoother sensation. Frank’s other hand is at your breasts, thumbing gently along each nipple.

“My girl needs some extra lovin’ to get some good sleep, yeah?” He whispers, voice low and gravelly against your ear, setting the mood by nudging your thoughts towards less stressful matters with his choice of words. “Y’need a bit more than just one to get y’satisfied?”

Frank is so, so warm behind you. “Yeah… And you’ll give it to me, right?”

Frank practically purrs at you engaging with his sweet talk, tone low in his chest, his cock straining against his sweats. “‘Anythin’ for my sweetheart. You know that.” He kisses your cheek. “Jus’ gotta tell me.”

He allots a bit more pressure onto your clit, feeling the warmth on his fingertips. “Tell me what y’want, baby. C’mon.”

You groan, heels digging into the sheets. “I want… Want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah...” He shifts one of his thighs, inching your own apart. “I hear you. Let me make you come first, okay?”

You nod, hips bucking into his fingers. Frank keeps his gentle pressure. Slow. Tender. Insistent. The sound of your ragged breathing goes straight to Frank’s cock.

“That’s it, sweetheart…” He whispers gruffly, in that tone so kind and considerate it contrasts so nicely with how Frank initially shows up as. He keeps touching you, body warm behind yours, arms solid in the way they cage you to him.

You close your eyes and sigh.

—

Its taking a while.

Too much of a while, really.

You whine, shifting in Frank’s lap. Despite him touching you just right and talking to you the way you were craving, the ache of your joints was too apparent for you to relax, mind too full to give you enough space for respite. There was still something missing. You need more that just this.

“Frank.” Your tone shifts, less whiny and more desperate. “I need you, please.”

His brows furrow. “Don’t wanna come first, honey?”

A breath. “I can’t—”

Frank nods, knows its not him, just your mind working against you. His fingers slow in their pace at your clit before stopping, his arms move to wrap around your midsection. It was one of those days. His girl was just too restless, too active, sharp mind working overtime. That’s all.

“Want me t’finger you now?” He whispers, gaze trained onto you, trying to more accurately assess his approach.

“Please.” The desperation in your tone tugs at his chest. Frank grunts his understanding of your wishes, kissing along your neck.

“Alright, baby… I’ve got you.” He pops two of his fingers in his mouth before pressing them to your clit. His hand at your chest moves lower, gathering the slick pooled at the seam of your cunt before gently pressing one finger at your entrance.

“This okay? Deep breaths—attagirl.” He guides your body and mind to listen, to receive, never wanting to force you into anything, pacing himself so you only ever get to take what you can handle despite your frustration for more.

You feel Frank’s finger inside, and he times himself to slide in another before curling them at your sweet spot. That, coupled with his unrelenting gentleness on your clit, makes you tremble. “Ngh—”

“Hold onto me, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He whispers, rewarding you with praise when you do as he says. One of your hands rest at his bicep, the other on his forearm. His arms flex with the angle and the way they move to give you pleasure. Being wrapped up in Frank’s strength like this makes you gush all over his fingers.

“That’s my girl—” He hums when your hips start to move, chasing the tender feeling of his fingers. The motion makes you grind onto his cock, which in turn makes Frank have to close his eyes, breathing deeply to calm himself.

He’s grunting, enamoured with your squirming, with how you can’t seem to decide on arching back into him or away from him, how you’re panting too.

“Frank—” You grind a bit harder, impatience gnawing at your tired psyche. “C’mon.” Your cunt clenches around his fingers, missing the usual stretch his cock gives you.

“Shh, sh… Slow down, baby. I’ll give y’one more, yeah? Shh…” He cajoles, urging you to sit still. “Stay still.”

He takes the opportunity to slide a third finger inside you, using the hand petting your clit to distract from any discomfort.

He waits a while, inching his fingers in and out slowly, still not wanting to rush no matter how hard he is in his sweatpants.

You, on the other hand, harbored a bit less patience. “Frankie-”

“I know, baby… I know.” He consoles, kisses your temple affectionately. “Know you need me, and I need you too but it’s been a while, alright?”

You huff, unable to argue with his logic—but the sense in his answer doesn’t magically make the impatience disappear.

“Just lay back, I’ll take care o’the rest.” He tempers your whining with more promises. “When have I ever left y’hangin’, hm?”

Frank made it his mission to get you to come every time, so this was an easy question to answer. His phrasing puts it into clearer perspective. There was no doubt that Frank would deliver. Your body stops tensing, mouth agape. You shake your head no. “Never.”

“Mhm, I’ll do right by ya. Always do right by my girl.” He kisses the top of your head again. “The sooner y’relax, the sooner I can fill y’up, yeah?”

That was the little piece of logic that pierced through the tired fog in your mind. The promise of being tended to alongside the realization that Frank did understand how urgently important this felt to you finally lets your mind settle.

“Right…” Frank hums at your reply, pleased with himself when he feels your body melt against his own. He knows he’s got you where you want to be when you’re so quick to heed his request. You practically go limp on his lap.

“I want it too.” He confesses, not that it wasn’t obvious with how goddamn hard he is in his sweatpants. “I missed makin’ y’come.” He murmurs lowly. “Missed feeling you come around my cock.”

You whine, body arching, a cocktail of embarrassment and desire stirring deep in your stomach. Frank’s fingers against your sweet spot dull the mental ache. “If you missed it so much you should make it happen faster—”

He chuckles. “You’re right.” He agrees, cooing at you. Your snark contrasts against your now more relaxed body language, so he engages with you (not that he ever doesn’t). “Shh, sh…”

Frank angles a fourth finger in, taking note of the way your body tenses and your breath pauses. You grunt at the stretch—your lover was right to take his time. As much impatience as you’ve displayed about the entire ordeal, you were subconsciously appreciative of Frank’s insistence on your usual preferred slow pace in intimacy.

“Deep breaths f’r me.” His nose bumps against the side of your head as he softly bites your ear. He grunts as he feels your clit jump against his fingers. “Good girl.” He keeps up his gentle pace, coaxing you to relax, keeping track of the way the tenseness ebbs away from you bit by bit.

You try to squirm some more, but every time you do, Frank coaxes you to relax, lay back, and let him do the work.

After what feels like an eternity, Frank finally slips his fingers out of you. It’s near uncomfortable for you with how wet you are. He moves his hand away from touching your nub, whispers for you to sit up a bit, just enough so he can slip his sweats by his ankles and free his achingly hard cock out out of his sweatpants.

He groans when you reach for the back of his head as you sit back down, tugging at his hair. “Mm—”

“C’mon—” You whine, spreading your legs, heels digging into the sheets. Frank’s cock is between your thighs, tip flushed red and leaking pre.

Now that the two of you were on more of the same page, your frustration has turned into something more endearing than concerning to him. Frank can’t help having his ego fed with how much you need him.

“Alright, shh…” He coos at you as he holds himself at the base with one hand, his other arm under one of your thighs. He inches the gusset of your panties to the side.

“Easy, baby. Easy…” He whispers as he sinks you over his cock. “Oh, sweetheart.”

Your warmth envelops him so fucking nicely it makes his head spin. His breathing is ragged, chest rising and falling in deep, shaky breaths behind you as he bottoms out. He touches your nub gently, supplementing the stretch with pleasure.

“Feel okay?” Frank murmurs.

“Yes—” You pant. “Always feels good with you.”

“Yeah?” He whispers, still testing the angle. He urges you to lean back into him more so he has a better shot at rubbing up against your sweet spot. It takes a bit longer than usual, he’s more used to missionary, after all.

Still, he knows he’s got it when he feels the familiar clenching of your walls against his girth. The speedy huffed exhale that follows.

Your mouth hangs open for a moment, one of your hands grasping at his forearm.

“Here?”

“Yeah—”

Frank nods, the ghost of a smile on his face when he feels your free hand search for his own. He catches onto what you want, intertwining your fingers together.

The fingers of his other hand cup your clit in slow circles.

“Practically made f’r me. Takin’ me just right—” Frank groans, kisses your cheek in a soothing gesture, “Can’t get enough of you.”

His words make you squirm, drool pooling at your mouth. Finally. Finally. It’s so good—

You’re stuffed full of Frank’s thick cock, back to his chest. He’s petting your nub with just the right amount of pressure. You’re breathing deeply, cunt clenching around him, thighs spread across his. It’s quiet, your lovemaking is reduced to the sound of both of your ragged breaths and the quiet shifting of the sheets with how Frank’s jutting into your sweet spot in small, barely there adjustments.

“Frank—”

“I’ve got you.” He reassures. You don’t even know why you called his name just now. One of your hands reaches back to tug at his hair again and he groans. “Need me real bad, huh?”

He’s coaxing out sweet, sweet mewls from you, nudging his nose into your cheek before pressing a kiss there.

It’s perfect. You’ve turned into mush on his lap.

Frank lets go of your hand to gently tap two fingers of against your lips, you let them in and let them rest on your tongue. The rough pads of his fingers contrasting with the wetness of your tongue makes his cock throb.

“Atta fuckin’ girl… y’feel good?”

You nod, eyes closing, response muffled by Frank’s fingers as your mind starts to be submerged in that familiar deep water, drool pooling at the edge of your mouth. “Mhm.”

There’s nothing to focus on but your breathing and the pleasure pulsing throughout your body as Frank tends to you and your needs—

RING. RING.

It’s Frank’s phone. It’s his obnoxiously loud ringtone that you happily tease him about how it evokes him being an old man most days.

RRING. RRING.

It’s the one that gets louder if you leave it be. Useful, but nothing but rage inducing in the moment.

You groan, looking up at him with pleading eyes. His fingers leave your mouth, he wipes them off onto one leg of his sweatpants and he reaches for the phone.

“No—” You whine.

RRRING. RRRING.

“Don’t answer it!” You complain as he glances at the screen.

“S’the wedding planner, sweetheart.” He replies, pressing a kiss to your cheek to console you. “I’ll handle it. Shh. Jus’ relax.”

His other hand keeps petting your clit as he swipes the screen to answer his phone, pressing the device to his ear.

“H’llo?”

You try your hardest to keep quiet despite the complaints bubbling in your throat. Frank’s cock is still pressed right at your sweet spot, making you feel him with every breath. He’s still sliding his finger along the slit of your clit so, so gently and it’s so fucking sensitive. Just enough for you to handle it but too much in the way it makes your limbs all tingly.

You busy yourself with grinding your hips, trying to make the most out of the bothersome distraction. Your mind works against you though, because you can’t help but tune in intently to the conversation being had.

The faint voice on the other side of the phone call is unintelligible. You can only piece together what’s being talked about based on Frank’s replies. “Tomorrow? Yeah, s’pretty short notice.”

He presses his lips to the top of your head, fingers not letting up. The way you’re warm and heavy and squirming all over him makes his cock twitch inside you. Frank has to close his eyes and bite the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning, knuckles white as he grips his phone.

You can’t quite appreciate his restraint though, because did you hear that right? Tomorrow? There’s something scheduled for tomorrow? Absolutely not. You stop. You’re about to speak out, riot, curse someone whose just doing their job out—but Frank seems to already have beat you to it in a much more respectable fashion.

“Mind if we reschedule that f’r the weekday instead? We already got a family thing tomorrow. Can’t cancel.”

You’d fall in love with him all over again if the entire situation didn’t endlessly frustrate you.

“Alright, ‘ppreciate it, thanks.” Finally, the call ends with him pressing ‘end’. Frank sets his phone back on the bedside table and his attention is returned to you immediately.

“What was that about?”

“Wedding planner said she forgot to mention us havin’ a uh, meetin’ t’morrow to go over the invitation designs.” He murmurs, peppering kisses along your neck.

That explains the call way past working hours, but that doesn’t make you feel any better either. Now you’re back at square one, mind unable to resist viewing over your mental checklist of things still pending for the wedding; flowers, the theme for the venue, the centerpieces, hair and makeup tests, you haven’t even gone to pick out a dress yet—

Frank feels you tense up, the combined efforts of getting you to relax gone like the wind.

“Sweetheart.” He calls for you. “Hey—”

“Yeah.” You blink, taking a deep breath. “Sorry… just thinking.”

“S’okay.” He reassures, knows how you get, is familiar with how a big part of your relationship is him helping you understand that it’s okay to slow down, that life won’t leave you behind, that you didn’t have to do everything right now until you have to stop.

He’s stopped moving his hips a while back, one arm now wrapped around your midsection. The hand on your clit has since retreated to rest on your thigh in a grounding touch.

“Want me to keep going, sweetheart?” He asks, not an ounce of impatience in his tone. That helps. It’s okay. Things are okay.

“Yes, please.” Frank nods at your answer, lips pressed into the top of your head.

“Put my hands where you want ‘em, yeah?” He encourages you to be more present. Here. With him instead of wherever your thoughts like to take you.

His words go straight to your cunt, your eyes closing for a brief moment before you nod. You take Frank’s hands, place one back to your mound and the other at the base of your neck.

He’s quick to pet your clit again in slow, soft circles. He’s a bit surprised by the way you’ve placed his other hand on your neck, so he waits before doing anything there.

“Just hold me here.” You gulp. There’s a thrill that shoots through both of you at the way Frank can feel how you swallow against his palm. “I don’t… actually want you to squeeze.”

He nods, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Got that, sweetheart.”

Frank listens to your request. Of course he does. He whispers sweet praise to your ears as he’s canting his hips up again in barely-there increments.

Your breath catches, the head of Frank’s cock presses up against your sweet spot again, gently, so slowly that you feel every inch and nudge.

It feels so good. Everything is okay. Frank affirms that. “There’s nothin’ that needs your attention right now ‘xcept you feelin’ good.” He coos. “Breathe with me, c’mon.”

You match your breathing with the steady rise and fall of his chest behind you, rewarded with his gravelly praise. “Attagirl. Jus’ like that.”

Frank takes you both back to the earlier slow and sensual rhythm you’d been interrupted from.

Your head rests on his shoulder, eyes closed. Your lover is kissing the side of your neck every once in a while between whispers of how good you feel, how pretty you look, how nicely you’re taking his cock.

Your toes curl, heels digging into the sheets, you’re being handled so tenderly.

“S’it feel good for you?” Frank asks, steady in the manner in which he’s touching you.

“Yes—” You pant, eyes opening. You can’t see him much from where he’s seated behind you, only parts of the side of his face with the way he’s diving into your neck with kisses.

You lean your head beside his, cheek brushing up against his hair. Frank’s next words make your body tingle even more.

“Could y’tell me how good it feels, sweetheart? Yeah?”

You bite your lip for the briefest moment, a whine slipping from your throat before you speak. “Okay—”

“You’re so patient… with me.” Frank’s eyes dart towards you at your words. He’d expected the usual dirty talk, call and response, the lewd thoughts you seem to always have ready when asked.

Not this.

“Mm?” He signals he’s listening, not that he has to, he’s always been an active listener. It meshed well with how you operated, how you had a tendency to untangle your thoughts verbally because your mind is usually too full to not have to lighten the load.

“We’ve been at this f’r so long…” You lean further back into his shoulder.

“Y’r not enjoyin’ it anymore, sweetheart?”

“No, no. I am…” One of your hands reaches for the hair at the back of Frank’s hair, not really tugging, but your lover can feel the pleasurable pull regardless. “I am.”

“I’m just so moody, even here. We could’ve been finished sooner if I wasn’t so worked up all the time.” Your brows ares drawn together, eyes focusing their attention on other things in the room.

“Yeah? Well y’r workin’ yourself up thinkin’ ‘bout all this, y’know.” Frank chuckles, an amused huff heaving his chest behind you.

You laugh, the playful (but not untruthful) jab snapping some sense into you. “That’s true…”

“Mhm.” Frank kisses the side of your head, ups the ante of his hips for a more insistent grind against your walls. He gathers some more slick on his fingertips before circling your clit again.

“Let’s try again, yeah?” He coos. “Talk t’me…”

Frank continues. “How’s it feel with me touchin’ y’r pretty clit like this?”

Your face feels warm at his words, breath catching. “Good.”

Frank nods, eyes trained on the way you’re writhing and willing and mostly relaxed atop him, his cock sheathed inside your warmth, squeezing every once in a while as the pleasure he’s giving you compounds.

He licks his lips before he speaks next words. “Why’d you put my hand around y’r neck like this?” He doesn’t squeeze, he wouldn’t dare. Only ever heeding your preferences. His sweetheart.

That makes you think of (thankfully) less stressful thoughts. Why did you place Frank’s hand there?

You gulp, the calloused palm of your lover steady and grounding against the base of your throat. “I… I like feeling how big your hands are.”

“Could do that by holdin’ my hand, though.” He teases, chuckles softly.

“Shut up.” You swat lightly at his bicep. Your face flushes, and you fix him a glare to the best angle your head can manage. You barely see him and you have no idea if he can see you. But it’s there.

“M’kiddin, baby. M’kidding.” Frank laughs, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “You like havin’ it here?”

You’re a bit too frustrated and equally fucked out of your mind to articulate why you like having it there. It’s not even choking because Frank’s not squeezing, you asked him not to and he’s not tried.

Maybe its the power play of it all, the subversion. The way it seems like Frank’s overwhelmingly dominant over you right now with the way he’a holding you when it’s really you calling the shots. When he’s really the one giving you options, when he’s moreso the one curating the intimacy, servicing you with your preferences at the forefront.

Maybe its the trust, how safe you feel whenever Frank’s concerned. How overwhelmingly competent he is while being borderline overprotective of your boundaries.

Maybe it’s just that, the competence. His tendency to handle because he’s got it. He’s got you. How he finds so much fulfillment in having you fall apart just enough, using what he’s learned about you so masterfully you sometimes feel like your mind’s been read before you’re even aware of the thought forming yet.

Frank talks with his hands, in the way he serves, always so steady, making everything he touches better despite his insistence that he’s just ‘doin’ what’s right’.

The blunt head of his cock drags along your sweet spot, and Frank’s just now parted the coarse hair of your mound again so he can slide an adept finger under the hood of your clit, and in that moment, your brain turns to mush.

“I do. I like it.” You manage to utter out, before you break into a strangled moan. Your own hands move to grip at his forearms for stability, even though you could melt and still not go anywhere with how solidly Frank’s wrapped himself around you.

“Yeah? Y’like how I’m touchin’ my girl?” Frank groans, his own body overwhelmingly warm. The head of his cock is sensitive with how long he’s been grinding onto your pleasure points, but he persists. Breathes sharply out of his nose, bites with his lips at your shoulder.

“Yes, yes yes—” Your lover moans gruffly at the way your clit jumps against his fingers, your walls pulsating around the base of his cock. “I’m going to come… Frank—”

“I’ve got you… Let me have it, sweetheart. C’mon, baby…”

Close, close close— You’re so close. Your heels dig into the sheets, the involuntary writhing of your body only unintentionally amplifies the pleasure.

Your mouth hangs open, your lungs take a deep, shaky breath—

RING.

It’s your ringtone this time. Not Frank’s.

Your head falls back against your lover’s shoulder, orgasm halted. You’re thinking again. Who could be calling? Why are they calling? What time is it to warrant a call?

RING.

Your ringtone is taunting you. To say it’s infuriating is an understatement.

Tears well up in your eyes, your already overwhelming frustration from earlier has quadrupled. Frank consoles you, cooing at you that its okay. He eases the hand at your cunt onto your thigh to do some soothing, grounding motions.

RING.

He reaches over to the nightstand, seeing the caller ID listed as the wedding florist. He answers on your behalf.

“Yeah, this is a bad time.” He replies after a moment, your phone pressed to his ear. His brows are drawn, jaw clenched, frown etched deep into his features. “Listen, think this can wait ‘till next week, yeah? S’not really a good hour t’be callin’ ‘bout work. Wife’s already asleep. Long work week.”

Frank ends the call with a curt ‘thanks’. He returns your phone to the nightstand, makes sure both his and yours are on do not disturb before placing his attention back to you.

Any other time, hearing him refer to you as his wife even when you two haven’t actually gotten married yet would’ve put a smile on your face, but right now, you’re devastated. Whatever prank the universe is playing by deciding to shove two interruptions into your well deserved time of rest, you did not appreciate one bit.

You lift yourself off of Frank’s lap, laying on your side of the bed instead and tugging the blanket over your form.

Frank squints, but he makes no move to stop you. He hikes his sweats up for some decency, unminding of the tent. You’re acting out of frustration, there’s too much on your mind.

You’re well aware you’re throwing somewhat of a hissy fit, and granted it wasn’t even Frank’s fault. But this is half a year of frustration welling up. All that effort into a satisfying climax completely ruined by phone calls that weren’t even emergencies. Calls that could have genuinely waited until the next morning. Calls you would have gladly entertained had they been made a few hours later, into the next day, instead of right now.

Your mood is ruined. Tears well up in your eyes. You already harbored some deep rooted shame over taking a while to come, and now it’s only been amplified by whatever the hell just went down.

“Hey.” You feel Frank before you see him. His hands cupping your face. “How’s my sweetheart feelin’?”

He settles on hovering over your form, the blanket sandwiched between your bodies. One of his hands are beside your head, the other thumbs along your cheek.

You frown up at him, and worry colours his features. “Talk t’me.” He urges, voice gruff but navigating your mood with care. He wouldn’t dare continue if you really didn’t want to, but there was no denying that you really did want it, those two calls just seemed to complicate things.

You lean into his touch, finally meeting Frank’s gaze. A stream of complaints escape you. Those damn calls, how it’s not the callers’ faults but you can’t help but be mad, how tired you are, how much you’ve been looking forward to ending the week in a satisfying way only to be interrupted twice.

Throughout it all, Frank listens attentively, letting you get it out of your system. His thumb drags along your cheek idly as you speak.

"I’m sorry.” You hide your face behind your hands. Frank lets you, but only for the briefest of moments. “I already have it so good and I’m still being a piece of shit.”

"Shh.” You feel his hand pull yours away gently. He’s currently holding himself up on his other elbow to not crush you under his weight.

"Y’r not a piece of shit, baby.” There’s an angle of absurdity in your train of thought that makes Frank laugh just a little. “Nothin’s wrong anymore. It’s handled.”

"Right...” The weight of his patient gaze makes the ache in your chest dissipate bit by bit.

“Everythin’ else can wait.” Frank cups your cheek, thumbs near your undereye. “No more calls. Jus’ you n’ me, and me helpin’ you come, yeah?”

Your face flushes despite your own frustration. “Can you wait, still? I take so long to finish…”

“‘Course I can, sweetheart.” He chuckles. “I get to make you feel good for longer? Kinda man would I be ‘f I complained ‘bout heaven?” Frank replies, shrugs. He likes that it takes a while. Likes that intimacy with you doesn’t feel fleeting because it takes you a while to get to a climax.

His reply and him not looking like he’s ticked off in the slightest puts your mind at ease, helps you realize that your worries about Frank’s dissatisfaction with this were just you projecting your own impatience with yourself onto him.

He knows your ticks, and he’s exactly where he wants to be when they happen, he thinks to himself, his large hand thumbing at the apple of your cheek softly.

A small relieved sigh escapes you, Frank’s doting gaze never leaving you as he asks you a question. “Mind if I get under th’ blanket with you? S’chilly out here.”

“Sorry.” You laugh, realizing he’d been half laying over your blanketed form for your entire rant. You lift the blanket on one side, trying to shimmy it up over his back.

He leans down to kiss you after he maneuvers himself into the small blanket cocoon you’ve made, whispering a quiet ‘s’okay’ to your cheek. You spend a while like that, exchanging kisses, Frank’s form quite literally acting as a weighted blanket over you. The warmth seeps into your tired body, offering a moment’s respite from the outside world.

“Wanna keep goin’?” His thumb gently drags along the apple of your cheek. There’s this subtle, but very handsome smile on his face and it reminds you that everything’s okay.

You take a breath before answering. “Yes.”

 He gives you two more kisses, one on each cheek. “Want me t’make you come?”

His choice of words make your body run warm. “Mhm.”

“Let me hear you say it, sweetheart.” He coos softly, hand cupping the back of your head.

You feel yourself pause at the way your face grows warm. “Please make me come, Frank.”

Frank ducks his head under the covers, whispering a hushed ‘attagirl’ against your skin. He makes his way lower, his hands warning you of the path his lips plan to kiss along.

The blanket laid over his back as he descends leaves you bare to the ceiling of your shared bedroom. Frank lifts your nightgown up to your chest, peppering kisses along the plush of your tummy until he eventually reaches the waistband of your panties.

The tip of his nose drags along the garment, hands cupping the tops of your thighs to gently spread your legs. He licks your clit through the fabric, alternating between suckling and dragging his tongue along the tip.

“Frank, don’t tease…” You truly, normally wouldn’t mind, but your impatience tonight has been testing you.

Your lover murmurs a quiet apology against your mound, huffing a mildly amused breath.

His palms gently run along your inner thighs before he moves to slip your panties off and discarding them by the bed. “‘ll make it up t’you—” He parts the hair at your mound, licking a stripe up the slit and ending to suckle at your nub.

He drinks in the long sigh you let out, groans when he feels your hips moving ever so slightly against him. He translates that as to you needing more, so he cups his tongue under the hood of your clit as he tastes you and grinds against the appendage in small increments.

“Oh—”

You feel his hands take yours, thumb running along your knuckles before maneuvering them to the top of his head.

You know what he wants, and there’s something so damn hot about how he asks you to hold onto him.

A tug at his hair makes Frank moan against your core, deep and satisfied.

You feel your clit twitch against his tongue, Frank not letting up on his movements. It felt good, but you’ve been wound up all day and you need more.

You pull one of the pillows beside your head down to the empty space on the bed beside your hips.

“Frank—” You pant, eyes watery with unshed tears. “Please—”

His eyes flick up towards you at your pained tone, noticing the pillow you’d given him.

He’s above you in an instant, one strong hand under your hip so he can slide the pillow beneath you. “S’not cuttin’ it, huh?”

You respond by wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “Need you to fuck me.” Frank feels you punctuate your point when the back of your heels bump against his lower back, your legs wrapping around him and tugging him closer.

His own cock twitches at the obvious display of want. He loves it when you get so unashamedly needy, bordering on demanding. He wants it all, wants to be wanted in ways that match the intensity he feels inside, considers himself lucky to be craved as deeply as he craves the love of his life.

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” He coos, one hand guiding the head of his cock to notch against your entrance. “Deep breath in. Out—attagirl.”

Frank grunts as he pushes in. Breath catching at the way your warmth wraps around him, squeezing and urging him in deeper.

He takes his time bottoming out, partly wanting to reassure you that he truly didn’t mind taking his time with you, with anything to do with his sweetheart.

He tunes in to your movements, how your palms are warm against the back of his neck, how your thighs bracket his waist, the bump of your heels against his tailbone. He listens to the sound of your breath as it catches, notices nothing but silence following after.

“Don’t forget t’breathe, sweetheart. Yeah?”

You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Yeah—”

Frank places his forehead against yours, one of his hands gently braced against the top of your head. He uses his other hand to support his weight against the bed as he pushes his hips into yours.

The eye contact is disarming, you’re tingly from need. You want more. You’ve been craving Frank inside you for a week at this point, and you were not going to let the night end without it.

The telltale hitch in your slow breathing, coupled with the way your walls clench around him lets Frank know he’s exactly where you need him to be.

“There she is.” He coos, “Keep breathin’, yeah? I’ll make it good f’r you.”

He tucks your hair under your head so it doesn’t get pulled when he positions himself on his elbows on the space beside you.

“Ready?” Frank presses his forehead against yours, gaze on the lookout for any sign of discomfort. Him telling you to focus on your breathing helps undo the crease between your drawn brows.

“Yeah.”

“Leave it t’me.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as he starts a slow, sensual grind.

Your jaw goes slack on a silent moan, your lover’s weight a comforting thing over you as he drags the tip of his cock right at your sweet spot.

He does small half thrusts into you, groaning in between whispered praise.

Your eyes close, toes curling, drool threatening to slip out the corner of your mouth. “Frank…”

“Yeah? You okay, sweetheart?” He’s panting a bit, muscles tense with restraint because you feel so fucking good but he knows exactly how much you need. The drag of your walls against his cock is searing hot, added to the fact that he’s been close to coming for hours.

He feels the hands on the nape of his neck pull him closer. Your eyes open, lips parted. “I love you.”

Frank will never get tired of hearing you say that. “I love you too.” He says your name, nudges his nose against yours before leaning in to kiss you. He shifts to move a bit more insistently, muffling your mewls as he does.

“Mm!”

Your legs give out, feet planting themselves on the mattress as your thighs spread, urging Frank closer.

Before he could ask, you’re already telling him. “Just like that, Frankie—”

He follows a slow but insistent rhythm, unrelenting against your pleasure points. Electricity jolts across your limbs, followed by a deep warmth.

“Yeah?” Frank groans, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin as he continues his slow grind.

“Yeah—”

Your lovemaking continues, the only sounds in the room being the shifting of the sheets and skin against skin, moans muffled into each others flesh. It’s deceptively good, the kind that looks tender and gentle but is in no way less intense. Frank has never needed to make the bed creak to give you the orgasm of a lifetime.

He’s mindful and attentive like that. Careful but never once lacking in passion. He has a habit of taking note of how you respond to touch, etching it into his memory, refining it each time he bathes in the satisfaction of making you orgasm.

You’re moaning, Frank is so gentle but so precise it’s making your head spin. Each whimper you make against his shoulder makes Frank’s cock twitch inside you.

He’s close. Has been. You are too judging by how wet you are, the sound of your slick as he drives his cock into you quiet but consistent.

“Attagirl, sweetheart. Let me have it, yeah? Let me feel you. Let go f’r me.” He pants, voice low and breathless. Your heads are buried in each other’s shoulders, the way your bodies are pressed together makes it so warm in contrast to the AC (you’d be sleepy if not for how fucking intensely Frank’s pleasuring you).

One of Frank’s hands snakes its way to the back of your head, cupping, holding you close. He moans when he feels your nails scrape against his back.

You’re so full, its all too much and just right at the same time. Drool slips past the corner of your mouth but you’re too fucked out to care.

You didn’t even get to say you were coming before it happens. You feel your cunt clench, twitch, contract in pulses around Frank’s thick cock.

“That’s it—thas’it. Yeah. Deep breaths.” Frank grunts, kissing your shoulder briefly. “Good girl, sweetheart.”

“Frank! Mm—” You can’t help but whine, heels kicking against the sheets. Frank stays, keeps his tip right against your sweet spot as he rides his own climax.

“Oh fuck—” Frank’s breathing heavily against your shoulder. You’re still coming somehow, thighs trembling, mouth agape, eyes closed. Your hips twitch against your lovers’, his weight keeping you still, positioning him exactly where you’d feel it best.

You could cry from how satisfying the orgasm is. You probably already are, because Frank’s thumb is running along your suddenly damp cheek and he’s shushing you in that way he always does. The way you’ve come to recognize as him not actually wanting you to quiet down, but as a soothing gesture from his own vocal ticks.

“Let it out, sweetheart. So good f’r me…” Frank sounds spent. It’s equal parts comforting and arousing and honestly pride inducing. You’d have been able to savor these emotions more in the moment if you weren’t so preoccupied with the way your clit twitches and your labia flutters around the base of Frank’s cock. “Goddamn—”

You have no idea how long it’s been. All you know is your cunt is sensitive. You’re satisfied, but tired. You open your eyes and see Frank’s blurry visage looking down at you.

A hint of a smile appears on his face when you lean your cheek into his touch. His partial worries relieved.

“You okay? Want me t’pull out?” He asks. “Y’r cryin… I might’ve overdone it.”

You shake your head no. “So good…” Your blinks are slow, groggy. You mirror his touch by cupping his cheek as well, your other hand falling to lay limply on the mattress.

Your cunt throbs again, overstimulated, and your brows draw. “Okay… maybe back up a bit.”

Frank chuckles, eases himself out a few inches—

“But don’t leave—”

“Sweetheart… gotta give her a rest, y’know?” He shakes his head, leans down to kiss your forehead, idly tucking your sweaty bangs away from your face.

“Ngh.” You pout. “Do it slow.”

“Yeah.” He kisses you on the lips as he pulls out, suddenly disappearing from over you and spreading your legs to check for any damage.

Next thing you know, he’s parting the hair between your legs, nursing on your clit, swiping his tongue along your slit once, twice, before cupping his tongue under your nub and grinding slow.

“Frank!” You groan, an exasperated smile on your face. “All that talk about giving her a break.”

“Sorry—” He huffs, amused. Knows he’s a hypocrite. He leaves with one last sweet kiss to your pussy before pulling the blanket over both of your forms, letting you cuddle up into his side as he lays down for some much needed decompressing.

—

You were just about to fall asleep after answering no to Frank’s usual post-intimacy survey (“Wasn’t too rough? You sure? Hurtin’ anywhere?) when he shifts.

“Alright, c’mon” He pats your thigh affectionately, hands sliding under your hips to pull you up. “Bathroom.”

“I’m sleepy.” You clearly have this disgruntled look on your face as Frank picks you up and carries you across the room.

“Jus’ a couple more minutes, sweetheart.” He urges you to sit on the toilet to pee, leaves to give you your privacy. You vaguely hear the sound of your closet doors and drawers opening and closing.

You’re done, washed up, now standing again before he he re-enters the bathroom to start up the shower.

“We’re showering? Again?” It’s clear you’re not too excited about the prospect.

“You’ll thank y’rself t’morrow.” Frank takes off his stained sweats, helps you slip out of your nightgown, then coaxes you under the spray of the water with him. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

This is how you find yourself clinging to Frank with nearly your entire weight. The wall too cold to lean your back on. He has one hand hiking one of your thighs by his hips, the other hand busying itself between your legs, fingering his come out of you.

“You hurtin’ anywhere?” He asks, his own tired gaze trained on you, relieved when you shake your head no despite your displeased expression.

“Frank—” You whine, tired out of your mind. “Isn’t leaving your come inside me the entire point of you getting that vasectomy?”

Frank chuckles, low and deep in his chest. There’s a tiny sense of pride in him at you letting out such a crude statement around him. “Just ‘cause I got snipped don’t mean you won’t get a UTI ‘f we don’t do this.”

Point. Of course he had a point. Frank always took clean up seriously, and him being so kindly and responsibly insistent about it would’ve shot your arousal straight up had you been any less tired than you were right now. (It’s equally why you’re so excited to have sex with the man. It’s not over until he’s taken care of you the entire way and back.)

“M’tired.” You murmur again, pouting defeatedly. As nice as this all felt, you’ve been wanting good, genuine sleep since last week.

“I know, sweetheart. Y’did good…” He praises, slowly slipping his fingers out of you. “Hold on t’me.” You’re on wobbly legs, and he makes sure to steady you by the shoulders throughout the entire process of turning off the shower and towelling you and himself off.

You beeline for the bed while Frank chucks the rest of the discarded clothes from the bathroom floor into the laundry basket.

He notices, only after putting on new sweats, that the new shirt he’d left out for himself on the bed was now suspiciously absent. Meanwhile, the fresh nightgown he’d prepared for you was still there beside it.

The peek of dark fabric from under the blankets you had on you (as well as the satisfied smile on your face as you waited for his reaction) outlined the culprit to be none other than you.

He laughs quietly, shoulders shrugging, shaking his head as he returns the nightgown to your dresser, forgoing a shirt for himself. He climbs into bed with you and relishes in the way you immediately cling to him and squeeze his torso like he’s some sort of teddy bear won from the fair.

“Good night, sweetheart.”

“Mm, night Frankie.” Your head is on his chest, soothed by the thrum of your lover’s heartbeat. You feel Frank’s fingers card through your hair before he caresses your upper back. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Frank ends his sentence with your name, punctuates it with a kiss to your forehead, enamoured when you tilt your head up after to kiss his nose.

You’re ‘fucked-out-of-your-mind’ fulfilled, while Frank’s ‘thank-you-for-letting-me-care-and-affect-you-this-deeply’ fulfilled.

It’s perfect. And now you finally, finally get to sleep with everything you’d wanted for tonight checked and accomplished despite the earlier phone call fiasco. Your eyes close. You take a deep breath.

Until Frank decides to get up out of bed. No words. So easily slipping away from your hold because you didn’t think he’d get up.

“Where are you going?” You sit up groggily, brows furrowed, frustration coming easily to you.

“Get’ya some water.”

“Oh.” Your expression returns to something less hostile. You were kind of thirsty now that you think of it, skin damp and cool but your body running warm. A little too warm.

You could’ve sworn you caught the slightest hint of a half-impish half-apologetic smile on Frank’s face as he left. If you were a bit more lucid you’d have noticed sooner that he laughed a bit at your frustrated question.

He comes back with one of your insulated tumblers and hands you the prized item.

The first sip of ice cold water that hits your tongue could rival the relief from your earlier orgasm.

The two of you take one or two turns sipping from the straw before Frank’s laying under the covers again (thanks to you practically pulling him into bed).

Settled into Frank’s bare chest once more, impressively fucked out of your wits, cared for after such a vulnerable set of hours, and hydrated with freshly prepared ice cold water, you finally close your eyes.

Frank noses along the top of your head, tucks your hair away from your forehead, leaves a kiss there once, twice, before he speaks.

“Want sausages with y’r pancakes tomorrow mornin’? Or bacon?”

No reply graces Frank’s ears save for one silent snore and the hum of the AC unit.

You’re already fast asleep.

“Simo—“

It’s quick, he’s grabbing your forearm, dragging you to the living room and placing you on the couch. A pout forms on your lips, you already know you’re in for it. Internally cursing at yourself, your big brown eyes follow his movement to the steps upstairs.

“I-I don’t want to.” You squeaked out. And Simon stops in his tracks, eyes squinting at you.

“ ‘S it ‘bout what y’want? The fuck did I tell you to do?”

Without another word, he’s up the steps and you can feel the lump in your throat build. He’d let you sit in fear for a few minutes, restless, heart beating louder than the house creaking. You hear Simons heavy footsteps as he comes back downstairs, your brown eyes on him again, and this time his hands aren’t empty.

A little vibrator with a remote in one hand, a pack of cigarettes in the other. He sat on the couch and looked over at you, “Gonna get in daddy’s lap or am I gonna ‘have t’make you?”

Most didn’t know unless you were on an opposing person, Simon was ridiculously heavy handed. Calloused & large hands that were good with multiple weapons of destruction were also good at keeping things in order. Keeping you in order. And the first smack is like a strike of thunder. Egregiously loud, painful, “It hurts!” You yelp out trying to get out of his hold.

“‘S meant to,” he grunts, his lips in a thin line, pulling you back on his lap, rubbing your bottom, soothing it.

The next couple smacks has you thrashing around, trying to apologize ‘I’m sorry’ ’I didn’t mean to’ and trying to get out of this man’s grasp so much he pinned your arms behind your back, smacks down to your thighs now—

Letting out a sigh through his nose, “Make it worse f’y’self, don’t give a shit kid.”

And you sob, body jerking with every swat, then resetting itself properly over Simons lap. Your ass was raw by the time he’d decided to stop, something the older man knew he’d have to take care of later because it would be purple from how bad he bruised it.

Simon almost wants to ask if you’re the crazy one here because despite him making sure your ass was busted and blue— your panties were soaked. To the point it’s starting to get his jeans wet. It’s almost laughable. Almost.

He slides your panties to the side, dipping a thick finger inside the wet ocean that was your hole then replacing said finger with a devilish little vibrator Simon only brought out to fuck with you. And you despised the little thing. Simon lifted you off his lap and to sat you on the ground, right on your aching bottom so he’d see you cry a little more.

You looked so gorgeous crying for him.

He gave you a devlish grin, sucking your remnants that was left on his finger. “You stay like that till I say.”

You frantically shake your head, wiping away the tears, “Daddy I- hicc- I can’t. I can’t do it.”

Simon thinks for a moment, taking a cigarette out of the pack. He cracks his neck, lighting the cigarette after a few ‘flick’s of the lighter that sat it on the coffee table, raising two fingers as he rests his elbows on his knee.

“Got two options, you know ‘em don’t you?” or was your brain already fizzled out?

You’d either: take the vibrator out yourself and make this whole situation ten times worse or you’d handle it.

Good girls handled it, didn’t they?

The blonde had turned the tv on, a burning cigarette hanging from his mouth, nursing a glass of whiskey. His eyes were on the monitor, fully laid back like what was happening to you wasn’t happening, but he’d kept you in the corner of his eye. Observing, watching as you withered to a complete, fucked out mess.

“Pa, I wan- I wanna stop. I’m sorry.” You keened, you were fully laid on the floor. Your body trembling on the carpet.

But all Simon did was lift his pointer finger to his lips, shushing you.

“Hear that?” and your eyes are shaky following his gaze as he gestured to the quiet of the room. The only thing heard was the murmur of the tv and your soft mewling as that damned vibrator humming inside you. “It’s what it should always sound like when you don’t piss me off. I don’t think you understand that yet though.”

“I do! I do pa-“

“Shut your fuckin mouth [+].”

Slowly but surely turning the vibrator up, up, up and that fatherly sixth sense kicks in because he knows you, and I mean really knows you. The way you moan, the way you squeeze your legs together for friction, closing your eyes shut because you’re about to cum and at the exact right moment, he turns it all the way down so you won’t.

And every time you beg, plead for forgiveness, you whine, sob, roll around on the floor like a god damn animal. You’d reach out to hold on to him, he’s pushing you off, right on your tender bottom, and turning up the tv.

Simon doesn’t want to hear it. It gives him a headache.

And it goes on like that, for hours.

It could’ve been days and you wouldn’t have realized. edging you to completely dumb you down and sub you out, till you’re on the brink of insanity.

Shaky breaths, and a tear stained face, face laying on the couch and drool & snot wetting the cushions, mumbling incoherent words.

And then you hear it, God speaking, “Come here Kitty.”

And it takes everything in you to pull yourself off the floor, legs just about ready to give out with every little step you made towards Simon. You stood in between Simons thighs, flopping down on your knees and full on weeping into Simons thigh. Oh the dramatics.

Your chest rapidly moved up and down, choking on your on tears. Ghosts large hand came down from what seems to be heaven, taking your face in his hand. You immediately leaned into it, your eyes finding his.

“You understand doin this shit is annoyin don’t you?”

“I- I understand.” you hiccuped, biting your lip to hold in whatever cries were still left in you.

“I don’t like beatin you but you have to understand. You don’t curse at me and bitch all fuckin day and think I’ll let it slide. Didn’t raise you like that, have I?” Simons huffs, going through the end table in search of something, then places it in your hands. “Wipe your face doll.”

“No sir,” you sniffle, wiping away whatever mess was on your face has been left there with the tissues Ghost gave you. “I- I was- I wasn’t bein smart.”

“No, no you weren’t. You were a dumb little brat. You use your words when you’re annoyed at me, think it’s quite a simple thing I ask of you and still you went and threw a tantrum. Almost gave me a headache from that whinin… but it’s just a little fuck up huh, honey?” He lifted your chin in his fingers, still his pretty baby, just a little absent minded.

“Yes sir, I- hmm- hicc- I wanna be gooood,” you slurred, gripping his hand in your own. He hummed, gently pulling you into his arms. Your body immediately melted against him, rubbing your face in his neck as his hands rubbed your back. You hadn’t even realized you started humping his thigh, soft whines leaving your plump lips.

He chuckles, “Damn, you’re fuckin trouble, thinkin with your fuckin cunt. Such a slut. Think I should help you? Hm, let you cum once?” One of his hands trail from your neck, down the valley of your breasts to your ruined underwear, bucking his hips against yours.

You moaned just from his touch, “Need you- need you shoo bad daddy. Only you. I’ll be good- promise! I’ll be good!”

“Turn around then, you know what to do.”

Like instinct, you got your hands and knees on the couch. Gripping the back of it and lifting your ass in the air. Simon ripped your panties off, sliding two fingers inside your cunt to fetch the vibrator that had hiked up inside you. You moaned, lashes fluttering shut and body finally going limp from exhaustion once he pulled it out. Simon caught you though, gripping onto your cheeks from behind and squeezing them together.

“Ah, ah, ah, stay with me now doll, gotta give you what you asked for.”

And all you can do is take it because it’s truly what you need after he’s out you through the wringer. Daddy’s cock giving you a nice and hardy K.O.

“Biiiig stretch, come on baby, fuckin chokin me ‘ere.” He’s rocking into you, slow. Making sure you’re stuffed and every vein of his pulsing dick that was splitting you in half.

As soon as he’s fit himself fully inside your pussy, a smack lands on your bruised ass. You look back at him with those big doe eyes, so fuckin sexy, “Hurts pa.”

“I’m sorry doll,” Ghost crooned, hands trailing up and down the sides of your hips. “Didn’t mean to.” Force of habit.

Your bottom lip stuck itself out, eyebrows furrowing, “You’re lyin.”

That damned smirk can’t help but form on his lips, chuckling before slamming his hips into yours, “Fuck, you’re my pretty girl for a reason. Know me. so. damn. well.”

Simons jackhammering into your cunt, fast and incredibly rude thrusts into your velvety walls. So fucking big, you could see the budge forming in your stomach in your low eyes with every kiss Simon gave your uterus with the tip of his dick.

“I can- I can feel it, alllll the way in my throat pa,” your fucking blabbering whatever was coming to mind, drool starting to come out of your mouth. “ ‘mazin, so amazin daddy. Thank you, thank you,” Hearts were forming in your eyes.

“Tch, So fuckin stupid on my cock, a brainless kitty. You love it, don’t you sweetheart?”

You moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head “Love it soooo m-much nnngh!”

Ghosts hand cums down to your puffy cunt, giving your clit a little flick with his fingers before slowly starting to rub it.

“ ‘M sensitive. It’s sensitive Daddy.” You mumbled, trying to push his hand away but all he did was rub harsher, cooing, “Shhhh, I knooow kid, it’s okay, lean into it.”

Your breath hitched, eyes widening as your stomach turned, you knew that feeling. Too strong, to powerful, too much— “No, ‘s too much-”

“-Cut it out [+],” Simons voice is sharp, it drops lower. the slouching of your sopping cunt and his precum getting louder by the second with every movement.

“The couch’ll get messyyy!” You mewled, You were kicking your legs, as if that would do anything with the position you were in.

Ghost grabbed you by the hair, tight, pulling you you into him, growling in your ear, “Then get it fuckin messy you filthy. bitch.”

And it’s like a guns gone off, you see every single white star forming in your eyes, your whole body shaking, fucking spraying the couch with your juices as you scream. Creaming all over Simons length, dripping down your thighs.

And Simon holds you against his chest, a tender kiss meets your forehead, “good girl, princess.”

a/n: celebrating 2k!!! Thank you everyone so so much!! I love youuuu stinkas🥺 I’m not all that confident in my work but at least one of you reads it. I’m greatful. In the words of Marge Simpson, “whoever you are, thank you🥺😘”

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