I love life but life has a boyfriend

No minors please NSFW

Hiiii ☺️

You can call me Sunflower.

I’m in my early 30’s

I post at random. I post whatever I feel is right. There is no “theme”. So if you’re following me because I reblog nsfw be prepared for some depressing posts too. Oh and animals. Anything cute. Oh and I’m super shy in real life. Okay byeeee.

I rush to the sink, but I barely make it before he grabs me hard from behind.

“Wait—” I start, but it’s cut off as he shoves me forward, slamming my head down against the cold granite. The breath leaves my lungs in a rush. His hand clamps down on the back of my head, holding me there with no room to move, no chance to escape.

I feel his other hand slide along my back, slow, deliberate, until it grips my ass.

“Thought you were being cute?” he growls, low and threatening. “You think you get away with that mouth?”

His fingers dig in, rough and possessive. I stiffen, breath catching—then crack—his hand smacks my ass, hard. I let out a whimper, my cheek still pressed to the counter, heat blooming beneath my skin.

“Who was a bad girl?” he asks, his voice sharp, commanding.

Another hit—harder. I flinch, biting back a gasp.

“Me,” I breathe, barely audible.

“That’s right,” he snarls. “All that attitude. Now look at you.”

I try to adjust my hips for relief, but he shoves them back into place without a word. Then he hauls me up by the hair, dragging me down to my knees in front of him.

“This is what you get,” he mutters, already unzipping his pants. He pulls his cock out, thick and hard, stroking it once as he looks down at me.

“Open that smart mouth.”

I part my lips, and he doesn’t wait—he pushes himself in. Deep. My throat tightens as I try to take him, and he groans, his fingers threading into my hair, holding me steady as he starts to move.

I choke slightly, but he doesn’t stop—he thrusts into my mouth with rough, relentless rhythm, using me.

“That’s it,” he grits out. “Take it. You wanted to run your mouth—now it’s mine.”

Tears prick the corners of my eyes, but the heat between my legs throbs harder with every second. I suck him deeper, harder, gagging slightly as he fucks my face without mercy. He groans, hips twitching.

I pull back just enough to drag my tongue along the head, sucking fiercely, then slide him back in, fast and deep. His grip tightens in my hair. His moans grow louder, ragged.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his voice breaking. “You’re gonna take it. Every last drop.”

I feel him pulse—once, twice—and then he spills into my mouth with a broken growl. I keep sucking, swallowing him down as he groans through gritted teeth, hips jerking.

He doesn’t let go right away. He stays there, deep in my mouth, until the last wave passes. Then slowly, he pulls out, hand under my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

He’s smirking.

“Now…” His voice is dark, satisfied. “Who’s my good girl?”

I wipe my mouth, breathless.

“I am,” I whisper.

“Damn right you are.”

I know why unfortunately.

Cradling his face in both hands, I leaned in and kissed him softly. “I’m going to take my shower,” I murmured against his mouth.

But he didn’t let me go so easily. His hands slid up my face, threading through my hair before curling around the end of my braid. He tugged gently, tilting my head back.

“Who said you could leave me?” he asked, his voice low and commanding.

The fire in his eyes made my breath catch. I tried to glance down, but he caught my chin between his fingers, guiding my gaze back to his.

“I asked you a question,” he said firmly.

A quiet whimper escaped me as he gave my hair another slow, deliberate pull.

“I’m in charge here. You do what I say. And I say,” he growled, “it’s not time to get up yet.”

I rolled my eyes, teasing him. But in a flash, he yanked me closer. His tongue slid out, tracing my cheek down to my lips, warm and taunting. My mouth parted instinctively, only for him to graze his tongue over my lips again, barely touching.

“Tell me who’s in control,” he said, voice like velvet.

I sucked in a shaky breath as he licked across my other cheek, then down toward my ear. He took my earlobe into his mouth, biting and sucking until a loud moan broke from my throat. Then he pulled my head away, rough, possessive. My ear slipped from his mouth, and I gasped.

My whole body ached—my core pulsing with need. He smiled, and I knew he felt it too. He had me exactly where he wanted.

“You see? I control you like this,” he whispered at my ear, dragging me back toward him. “I could even do this…”

With one hand still tangled in my hair, he guided my head lower—toward his lap. I hovered there, nerves and desire colliding. I wanted to rub my face against him, to show him just how badly I needed him—but the words wouldn’t come. I was trying to be braver, more open about what I wanted.

Screw it. No holding back.

I tilted my chin slightly until it just barely brushed the tip of his shorts. His grip loosened. Slowly, I leaned in, rubbing my cheek against the thick outline beneath the fabric, like a needy cat seeking affection. He hardened beneath me, and I arched my back, lifting my hips, my ass in the air as soft moans slipped from my lips.

Lost in it, I let go—grinding my face against him, each movement dragging me deeper into that haze of want. My body followed, hips rocking with the rhythm of my breath.

Then—smack.

His hand struck my ass, and I gasped, jolted but burning.

“That’s my girl,” he said, his voice rough with satisfaction.

Another smack—harder. My moans came without thought, louder, needier. I was soaked, trembling, teetering on the edge.

Could I really cum just from this? From barely being touched?

Yes. With him, I could.

His hand still fisted in my hair as the other met my ass again and again, pushing me closer to that sharp, rising wave. I needed more—I needed him. I lifted my head, just slightly, aching for his mouth.

But he noticed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked darkly. “I’m not finished with you.”

He pressed my face back down against his lap. I opened my mouth and let it rest against his hard length through his shorts, breathing him in. Another smack. Then his hand gripped my ass hard, pulling me into him. I felt him shift down, teasing me, tracing along my soaked slit.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he whispered sweetly. “Why don’t you go take that shower… and when you come back, I’ll fuck you.”

I could barely move—stranded at the edge of release, shaking, needy. But this? This was him reminding me who was in control.