Lovely

the living room is dark except for the glow of the tv, game tape paused on a third-down scramble. joe’s got one arm slung heavy around your waist, fingers drumming restless against your hip. his other hand holds the remote for a while, then sets it aside so he can slip it between your legs instead. you’re supposed to be helping him break down plays, but your focus keeps slipping — mostly because he’s been teasing you for the last forty minutes, slow circles against your clit through your panties, never quite enough.

you try to keep up with the film. but then he slides two thick fingers inside you without warning, curling them just right. your head drops back against his shoulder with a broken sound. he laughs low against your ear and presses play again.

“eyes on the screen,” he murmurs. “watch how i step up in the pocket.”

his thumb keeps brushing your clit in lazy strokes while the film runs. every time you get close he slows or pulls back completely, leaving you clenching around nothing.

when he’s had enough he flips you onto your stomach on the wide couch, yanking your hips up so you’re face down, ass up, chest pressed into the cushions. one big hand slides up your back and wraps around your throat, firm enough to make your pulse jump as he lines up and pushes in — slow, every inch until he’s buried deep.

“fuck,” he breathes, hips flush against you. “feel that, baby?”

he holds you there, stuffed full, hand steady on your throat while the game tape keeps playing. then he starts moving — deep strokes that make the couch creak. every time you try to push back he tightens his grip and stills.

“eyes open,” he says against your ear, chest pressed to your back. “watch the film. you stop paying attention and i stop.”

you whimper a weak yes. he rewards you with a hard thrust that punches the air out of you.

he keeps talking until you’re sobbing into the cushion, right on the edge. this time he doesn’t pull back.

“cum for me, baby,” he groans, voice cracking. “let me feel you.”

you come around him hard, clenching so tight he curses and follows right after, hips stuttering as he fills you. he stays buried deep, breathing against your shoulder while the tape keeps rolling. after a minute he reaches for the remote, still inside you, and rewinds the same play. pads crack again in the dark.

he laughs soft into your skin. “see? told you this was important.”

the living room is dark except for the glow of the tv, game tape paused on a third-down scramble. joe’s got one arm slung heavy around your waist, fingers drumming restless against your hip. his other hand holds the remote for a while, then sets it aside so he can slip it between your legs instead. you’re supposed to be helping him break down plays, but your focus keeps slipping — mostly because he’s been teasing you for the last forty minutes, slow circles against your clit through your panties, never quite enough.

you try to keep up with the film. but then he slides two thick fingers inside you without warning, curling them just right. your head drops back against his shoulder with a broken sound. he laughs low against your ear and presses play again.

“eyes on the screen,” he murmurs. “watch how i step up in the pocket.”

his thumb keeps brushing your clit in lazy strokes while the film runs. every time you get close he slows or pulls back completely, leaving you clenching around nothing.

when he’s had enough he flips you onto your stomach on the wide couch, yanking your hips up so you’re face down, ass up, chest pressed into the cushions. one big hand slides up your back and wraps around your throat, firm enough to make your pulse jump as he lines up and pushes in — slow, every inch until he’s buried deep.

“fuck,” he breathes, hips flush against you. “feel that, baby?”

he holds you there, stuffed full, hand steady on your throat while the game tape keeps playing. then he starts moving — deep strokes that make the couch creak. every time you try to push back he tightens his grip and stills.

“eyes open,” he says against your ear, chest pressed to your back. “watch the film. you stop paying attention and i stop.”

you whimper a weak yes. he rewards you with a hard thrust that punches the air out of you.

he keeps talking until you’re sobbing into the cushion, right on the edge. this time he doesn’t pull back.

“cum for me, baby,” he groans, voice cracking. “let me feel you.”

you come around him hard, clenching so tight he curses and follows right after, hips stuttering as he fills you. he stays buried deep, breathing against your shoulder while the tape keeps rolling. after a minute he reaches for the remote, still inside you, and rewinds the same play. pads crack again in the dark.

he laughs soft into your skin. “see? told you this was important.”

the living room is dark except for the glow of the tv, game tape paused on a third-down scramble. joe’s got one arm slung heavy around your waist, fingers drumming restless against your hip. his other hand holds the remote for a while, then sets it aside so he can slip it between your legs instead. you’re supposed to be helping him break down plays, but your focus keeps slipping — mostly because he’s been teasing you for the last forty minutes, slow circles against your clit through your panties, never quite enough.

you try to keep up with the film. but then he slides two thick fingers inside you without warning, curling them just right. your head drops back against his shoulder with a broken sound. he laughs low against your ear and presses play again.

“eyes on the screen,” he murmurs. “watch how i step up in the pocket.”

his thumb keeps brushing your clit in lazy strokes while the film runs. every time you get close he slows or pulls back completely, leaving you clenching around nothing.

when he’s had enough he flips you onto your stomach on the wide couch, yanking your hips up so you’re face down, ass up, chest pressed into the cushions. one big hand slides up your back and wraps around your throat, firm enough to make your pulse jump as he lines up and pushes in — slow, every inch until he’s buried deep.

“fuck,” he breathes, hips flush against you. “feel that, baby?”

he holds you there, stuffed full, hand steady on your throat while the game tape keeps playing. then he starts moving — deep strokes that make the couch creak. every time you try to push back he tightens his grip and stills.

“eyes open,” he says against your ear, chest pressed to your back. “watch the film. you stop paying attention and i stop.”

you whimper a weak yes. he rewards you with a hard thrust that punches the air out of you.

he keeps talking until you’re sobbing into the cushion, right on the edge. this time he doesn’t pull back.

“cum for me, baby,” he groans, voice cracking. “let me feel you.”

you come around him hard, clenching so tight he curses and follows right after, hips stuttering as he fills you. he stays buried deep, breathing against your shoulder while the tape keeps rolling. after a minute he reaches for the remote, still inside you, and rewinds the same play. pads crack again in the dark.

he laughs soft into your skin. “see? told you this was important.”