andy (she/her)

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“i’ve never gotten great head,” you offer up to the room with a shrug, a little too tipsy and a few rounds too far into the game of never have i ever to think of a better prompt or the implications for the company you’re with. 

you see mattias stiffen by the bar cart, a twisted and confused expression on his face. 

“not you,” you add belatedly. “i just get bored! it’s never like ‘oh my god, give me head right now, i need it.’”

mattias releases the bottle he was holding and holds his hands out, looking around the room like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. he’s not making eye contact with any of your fellow party attendees, raucous as they are at your drunken admission, and neither are you. you’ve offended him. he’s joking around, but you’ve offended him.

“well, babe, i don’t know,” he sighs noncommittally. “we might have to change that.”

“oh, i’d like to see you try,” you goad. “i’ve tried.”

“you got down and dirty and did it yourself, huh? some kind of contortionist,” he teases. “i didn’t know you could bend like that.”

you shoot him an exasperated glare. “no, ti, obviously i didn’t do it myself. come on.”

he chuckles and returns to his seat beside you, slinging his arm over the back of your chair. he takes a swig of his freshly poured drink and winces at the bite of the liquor. “i’ll getcha. don’t you worry.”

“not worried,” you grumble, leaning into his touch. “i can live without it.”

“damn, you really haven’t gotten good head if you can live without it,” mattias says. he sways into your space and smushes his lips into your cheek. “everyone before me sucks.”

you tap his knee. “you haven’t wowed me either.”

he lays his hand over his chest like you’ve wounded him, a cocky smile contrasting the action. he’s drunk, eyes shining with a plan, and in that moment, you like him a lot. everything is still fresh, about two months into your relationship now, and mattias makes your heart flutter. 

his insistence that he’ll make it up to you bleeds into the next day and the day after that. mattias clearly enjoys dangling this over you, confident in himself and his ability to please you like no one else has.

the thing is, he’s eaten you out before. it’s usually a precursor to something else and, honestly, you haven’t given him enough chances to prove himself in the time that you’ve been together. it’s because you get so bored, laying there useless as your partner tries their best to make something happen. it only takes a few minutes – never more than fifteen, and you rarely want it to go on for longer than five. it’s fine. some people like it. you’re not really one of them. you’ve long accepted it. mattias is determined to rectify it.

the moment comes a few days later, near the tail end of your vacation. the bed is already a mess, unmade from your early rise and mattias’ drowsy determination to make you late for breakfast. then, it was a long day on the shore, mattias’ skin growing tanner by the second. sunkissed, sated, and happy, you went to dinner. mattias sidled up behind you when you were combing your wet hair out post-shower, promising you that tonight was the night.

so, you ended up on the bed at the end of the day, mattias’ smooth, bowed lips brushing yours. he spends a long time laying on top of you before he makes his way down your body and kneels between your legs. he touches you reverently, undresses you entirely before removing everything except his underwear. 

you’re already a little wet from the kissing, admittedly, but mattias can still feel the tension in your muscles when he goes to spread your legs and settle between them.

“shh, just relax,” mattias murmurs. he plants a kiss on your inner thigh. “lay back. if you get bored, ride it out. it’ll grow on you. let me do what i need to do.”

“‘m gonna fall asleep,” you reply in a tired slur. 

mattias breathes out a laugh. it ripples over your lower lips strangely. “don’t do that.”

“what if i do?”

he shrugs, wrapping his strong arms around your thighs and pulling you flat. he peers up at you with hooded, dark eyes. “don’t think you will.”

you don’t like the answer and you make it known, glaring sharply at mattias.

he smirks, full of himself, and turns his head into the juncture of your thigh, kissing up the crevice until he finds your hip bone, flat and smooth beneath his curved lips. 

“i like you,” he mumbles into your skin.

“aww.”

he chuckles and runs his palms over your inner thighs, kneading your flesh. he spreads your legs and keeps massaging. he plants kisses over the space his fingers covered once they move onto the next spot. the kisses are moist and deliberate. slow, even. you don’t see how this is meant to disprove your point – that you get bored. this is boring. he’s taking his time and you’re just laying there, not doing anything. you don’t feel involved. you don’t feel… engaged.

“do you get bored down there?” you ask to break the silence. 

mattias shakes his head. “mm-mm.” his hum reverberates through your body. another kiss, this one over a stretch mark on your inner thigh. 

“does it smell?”

mattias snorts and shifts up, nuzzling against your belly. he bites down gently. “no, dummy,” he laughs fondly. “it doesn’t smell. it doesn’t taste weird, either. ‘s perfect. you think too much.”

“sorry.”

he eyes you. “don’t be.”

you apologize again for apologizing.

he chuckles and goes back to kissing your thighs, inching closer to your core. 

it really starts with a tentative dart of his tongue. the wet muscle traces your lips, spreading them apart. you blink slowly and thread your fingers through your own hair. mattias repeats the pattern, licking up your slit and ending with a kiss over your clit. he sucks the bundle into his mouth and lets it go, tugging softly over and over. when you look down, he’s lost himself in it – eyes closed, lips curved into a slight smile, planes of his shoulders broad and bare, a patch of sweat beading on his lower back. he’s in nothing but tight boxers. his waist tapers, the globes of his ass are taut, but his legs are thick, meaty. 

“i can see your hamstrings,” you mention.

mattias doesn’t answer, but his smile widens. you always liked his smile, the hints of pearly teeth behind that joker curve. you jolt when it disappears and he licks a long, flat stripe along your cunt. he hums, pleased, and does it again, thumbing your lips apart and burying himself between them. his teasing tongue flicks over your hole. he circles your entrance and parts from it with a kiss, moving up to your apex and drawing your clit into his mouth. pursing his lips around your sensitive spot, he suckles. 

“oh.” your legs twitch, ankles looping over mattias’ shoulders and heels digging into his back. your thighs try to close around him, but he doesn’t allow it. he wrestles them back open with splayed fingers, pinning them to the mattress. your hips stretch nearly to the point of popping, but you can’t focus on that. all you can feel is the dragging suction that won’t seem to cease, just intensifies.

then mattias has the audacity to look up at you. 

he’s all hollowed cheeks and smug brown eyes, dancing tongue and plush red lips. 

you whine, sharp in the back of your throat. 

mattias laughs. it’s muffled, his mouth still stubbornly wrapped around your clit. it makes it worse – which really means that it’s better – and you have to bite down on your lower lip. he knows what he’s doing. he knows how he’s affecting you. he knows that he’s rewriting your history one lick at a time.

his middle finger plays between your folds, fingertip petting your slick entrance repeatedly. he slips in to the first knuckle and lets his digit pulse in time with his mouth. 

your back arches off the mattress and your legs close around him again, but this time mattias doesn’t stop you. he slurps and thrusts his finger, bicep flexing and triceps bulging. there’s a furrow to his brow and a distinct wetness clinging to his stubble, eyes trained on your trembling form.

he wants to watch you cum.

and by god, you do. 

your voice leaves you, mouth hanging open in a silent cry. your hands have flown to mattias’ hair, the strands sticking out from between your fingers. he moans when you tug sharply and pushes another finger past your entrance. he lets you ride it out, keeping his movements consistent until your grip slackens. 

“how’s that?” he asks, laying affectionate pecks on your overstimulated clit. “boring?”

obviously, he knows your answer.

“whatever,” you groan, proven wrong. you hide your face in the crook of your elbow, humming out of latent satisfaction. 

mattias lumbers up your body, letting out a comical, rumbly, proud “hehehe.” 

you pretend to dread his arrival, sinking back into the pillows. he guides your hands away from your face, wrapping his fingers around your wrists and pinning them to the mattress. he nibbles over your neck and puckers up, waiting for you to meet him in a kiss. you oblige, of course, then curl your lip at the taste of yourself.

mattias rolls his eyes. “dramatic.”

you scrunch your nose at him. 

he scrunches his back.

you release a breathless laugh and push him to the side. he goes, back hitting the mattress with a little bounce. 

“get you back?” you ask, moving between his legs and brushing your palms up his quads, from his knees to his hips. you don’t touch, but his bulge is there – and your mouth waters for it.

“mm, i’ve had some pretty good blowjobs in my life,” mattias replies. “never complained, unlike you. you got something to prove?”

you squint at him, shaking your head in small movements. “trying to be nice to my boyfriend since he’s so nice to me.”

“you’re damn right,” mattias agrees. he reaches down and shifts his boxers down, cock springing free and slapping back against his stomach. 

you kiss his abs before ducking your head and sucking him dry. it takes no time at all for him to release down your throat, head thrown back into the pillows, elongating his thick neck. it’s impossible to resist as you crawl up his body. you suck a bruise to the right of his adam’s apple, then another near his jaw. mattias moans lowly and his hands slide along your waist so he can grope your ass. one of his thick thighs slips between yours and you make a soft noise against his mouth. your fingers pet through the hair at the nape of his neck and your thumb runs in soothing passes over his scruff.

“nice job,” mattias compliments, voice gruff.