“fuuuck, you’ve been needing this shit, huh?” your best friend coos with a teasing lint in his tone, “pussy’s so wet, kid. makin’ a mess on my bed.” chris loves the way you try to cower and hide your flushed face away from his gaze, but the bicep that wraps over your shoulders prevents you from doing so.

he’s got you with your back pressed against his chest, legs spread until your muscles ached and his arm curled around your neck to stop you from running away. his fingers hadn’t stopped rubbing you over your sticky thong ever since he got you into this position.

your brain is so fogged up with the scent of chris’ cologne and the fragrant smell of weed that sticks onto his black t-shirt, along with the feeling of his lips either grazing against your earlobe to whisper lewd things that you didn’t even know he was capable of saying, or kissing down your neck and making bruises.

you can’t ever make time for yourself. it’s always been classes, homework, eat, study, and sleep. you don’t remember the last time you’ve pleasured yourself. nonetheless, you still find yourself surprised at how unfamiliar and good it feels with chris so close to you, helping you let go of anything that stressed you out with just a flick of his wrist.

“yeah? you like that?” a wide smirk grows on your best friend’s lips after you’d shamelessly whimpered out his name, thighs twitching ever so slightly, “shit, baby,” chris outwardly groans into your ear, “could make you cum with your panties still on. so sensitive, huh?” the way he’s chuckling and cooing at you is purely for entertainment, to see how red your face gets and how you just can’t do anything besides take what he gives you.

you whine in response. you’re too enamored with chris’ large, veiny hand in between your thighs growing soaked as he plays with your drooling pussy through the thin material of your thong to even speak to him. and although you were just milliseconds away from coming, he wanted to feel your soft folds, to see how shiny his fingers could get with your slick.

as chris began to hook his fingers around your thong, the headlock he was practically giving you tightened. his biceps flexed around your neck while you whimper, mind becoming empty and cloudy. and that’s exactly how he wanted you to be: dumb and pliant for your best friend.

he dipped two fingers into your folds and groaned under his breath when he felt how sticky and wet you were. you watched, with your brows furrowed and lips parted, chris pull back from your cunt and you whine in frustration while bucking your hips to chase his hand. a snicker in your ear makes you burn up in embarrassment, lips pouting as you try to turn your neck as much as you can to glare at chris.

“don’t tease, chris.” you catch him glancing down at your lips with a smirk on his.

chris’ breath ghosts over your face as he mockingly coos, “‘m sorry, kid . . i’ll make it up to you.”

the kiss isn’t sweet, nor is it gentle. your best friend seems quite hungry as he shamelessly groans into your mouth, lips smacking against yours while his tongue grazes yours. it’s sloppy, loud, and it makes your head feel fuzzy. and while chris kisses you into total submission, his fingers are once again latching onto your soaked cunt. he spreads your slick around and isn’t nice or slow with it.

you’re moaning into his mouth while chris massages your clit, rubbing it at the same pace as his lips. the arm around your neck is removed, so he could bunch the material of your tank top over your collarbone, exposing your tits for your best friend to grab at.

by the time your pussy’s leaking onto the bed from his extensive teasing, you’re pulling away from his lips to slump into his chest and openly whimper as he toys with your pert bud.

“fuck. you like havin’ your best friend play with your pussy? just needed me to make you feel all better, yeah?” chris is just as gone as you are. his breath is hot on your neck while he just stares at your cunt, thinking about how pretty it is and how it would feel milking his cock.

you huff, nodding, “uh-huh.”

and as chris begins to line two fingers into your drooling, needy hole, all you can do is let him make you dumb—let your best friend pull orgasms and orgasms out of you until you only know how to moan out his name.

and you must’ve believed your beloved best friend because even your window is wide open for anyone to see you on your hands and knees, your pretty ass facing matt as you pump a pink dildo into your soaked cunt. the squelches of your gummy walls contracting around the flimsy rubber seem to be louder than your whines, but he’s still able to hear you moan out his name into the sticky summer air.

your pedicured toes curl as the toy bottoms out, whimpering from the pressure on your sweet spot. matt doesn’t really know how long you’ve been like this, but he knows that you were in a hurry from the way your sleep shorts were thrown hazardously onto the floor and your cute cotton panties still pooled at your ankle. he crouches down onto the ground to try to spot your face from under your arched back. holding onto the windowsill, he lets out a jagged breath when he catches your cheek squished into the bed. your plump lips form an ‘O’ while your brows furrow upwards, like you were sad that you had to take a plastic dick instead of matt’s.

matt, still crouched down, reluctantly pulls his hungry gaze away from you to come back to reality. what if someone sees him perving out on his best friend? what if someone call the cops? but when he looks back at you frantically fucking yourself back onto to the pink dildo, he loses all his morals. he pants like a parched dog while he unbuttons his jeans and hurriedly pulls his weepy cock out of its confinements. he quickly scans his surroundings before beginning to put all his attention on you. now, you’re the star of the show—his late night fill.

he hisses lowly as he fists his cock, leisurely stroking it to collect the pre-cum that continuously pools at his sensitive, pink mushroom tip. maybe it’s the fact that his pretty little best friend is getting stuffed with a plastic cock, moaning matt’s name like a mantra, or it could be the fact that he’s out in the open, for anyone to spot—especially if you were to just look over your shoulder, but he never felt so high off of life before. it’s exhilarating.

your whines turn into loud, breathy moans and it’s only a matter of time before you start desperately rocking yourself back onto the toy, your ass jiggling with each thrust, “o-oh my god . . matt—“ you squeal out. you fist your comforter as your thighs begin to shake, all while hysterically pumping the dildo into your greedy, drooling hole. meanwhile, matt desperately tries to match your pace with his. he doesn’t care that he’s letting out small groans whenever he swipes his thumb over his swollen tip.

and he thinks it’s too soon when you cum. you whimper out matt’s name like it was the only thing you could remember as you cream all over the pink toy, stuffing your flushed face into the bed when it suddenly got too much for you.

and within a flash, matt began to panic.

when he frantically stuffs his cock back into his jeans while you rise to your knees, he fails to realize how much noise he was actually making. it was the dead of night, so every little movement he made was enough to startle you.

you audibly gasped and looked over your shoulder.

nothing.

if matt wasn’t nervous for his future, he sure is now. the taste of blood is bitter on his tongue as he chews on his bottom lip, the rough concrete scratching his back. he sits there, right under your window, listening to the soft pads of your feet ascend closer and closer. there’s a pause before the window is shut, and the curtains are drawn closed.

he lets out a large breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

on the walk to his car, matt couldn’t help but think about your pretty voice moaning his name. someday—hopefully—he’d get to hear that again, even if he wasn’t the reason why. but for now, he’ll jerk himself off in his car to the thought of you.

just for the hell of it, you’ve already indulged in a brownie and the effects were already starting to hit.

you can smell the remnants of the sweet smelling brownie and the pungent weed wafting throughout your apartment as you walk down the hall and into the living room, but the closer you get, your nose gets infiltrated with the familiar, nauseating scent of cologne. fuck, is chris home already?

you don’t even spare a glance toward the kitchen—you make your way to round the couch and you find yours truly; chris, lazily spread out with his body melted into the soft cushions. his legs are spread out wide, so you get a clear shot of the gigantic bulge protruding over those black jeans he wears religiously—that’s definitely not the point, though.

his arms are hanging over the cushions and he blankly stares right across from him. you momentarily follow his gaze and find it at the corner of your floor. it’s then that you notice the soft smile on his face that seems to not rid and his eyes are so low that he looks like he’s squinting.

okay, this isn’t the first time he’s come home high. don’t freak out.

yet, you still nervously move your gaze over to your kitchen where your brownies were supposed to lay on a plate—but all you find are crumbs.

it takes everything in you to not directly pounce on chris, but he’s high—like really high. there’s about 100 mg of weed in his system and surprisingly, he’s chilling.

you sigh through your nose, rolling your eyes at how calm he looked right now, “chris.”

his head lulls against the couch cushion to look at you and the faint sound of his curious ‘hm?’ echoes through the silent apartment. it’s like his eyes had to manually focus on you; blinking owlishly for a second before his lips bloom into a smile.

he sings your name as his smile grows wider and you catch the way his hips shift around, almost as if he was trying to find relief for the predicament in his pants, “missed you s’much, kid.” chris grumbles in a soft voice.

“don’t play that shit with me, chris. i swear to god . .” you groan, shutting your eyes and rolling them.

chris pouts at your attitude, his face distorting into something more serious like he was sobering up, “fuck did i do, now? cops here?” and then he’s sitting up—not without a fight with his sluggish body—and starts whipping his head toward the front door.

“you fuckin’ fatass. no one’s here.”

“yo, don’t call me a fa-“

“i am gonna call you a fatass because you ate all my brownies!”

he stares up at you in bewilderment, eyes wide and mouth agape, “wha-what brownies? are you the fuckin’ pillsbury doughboy now—since when does your ass even bake?!”

you smooth your hands over your face as an attempt to calm yourself down, “chris,” you start, “do you even know how you’re high right now?”

he hums as he thinks about it, lips pursing and eyes squinting before he smiles at you, “i smoked a joint with matt—shit was crazy, i almost ate everything in his damn fridge, like, right after.” he giggles to himself.

“. . holy shit, you’re literally the definition of gluttony.”

“shut the fuck up. it was just the munchies—“

“you have, like, more than a hundred milligrams of weed in you, chris.” you try to reason with him—calmly—but he has that dumb look on his face and it makes your anger spike a bit.

he frowns, “fuck are you even talking ‘bout?”

“those brownies were edibles, dumbass.”

chris takes a moment to really sink that in. he’s got enough weed in him to get an elephant high, and the sight of you mad at him with your skin glowing from that lotion he loves to smell on you is making him rock hard—but there’s also anger boiling in his blood.

“andddddd, you decided to not fuckin’ tell me? those brownies were jus’ sitting on a plate and you expected me to, what?—not take a fuckin’ bite?”

you can’t believe him right now, “are you fo—you’re blaming me?”

“yeah, ‘cause it’s your fuckin’ fault, dickhead. i feel like a elephant is layin’ on my lap, can’t even move.” chris huffs dramatically.

to be fair, you only cut slack on chris just a bit because you knew he was going to high for a long time, and it’d come in waves since they were edibles—but jesus, there was no way he downed all those brownies within your shower period . .

even though your high was beyond ruined, the sight of chris’ lap looked so inviting. his legs are still spread apart, and the boner poking out of his pants hasn’t gone down.

“y’er a slut, y’know that? holy fuck—“

yeah, you just got caught red handed.

you sputter, eyes finally peeling off from in between his legs to stare up at chris in bewilderment, “me? a slut? bitch, for all i know, you’re probably going out to fuck your hoes ‘cause i won’t let you fuck me.”

“fuck off, weirdo,” he sneers, “and my, uhm . . i dropped all of ‘em.”

“boy, you know they all left your ass ‘cause they didn’t wanna fuck with a felon.”

that left chris silenced, face turning stern as he sighs exasperatedly and slumps further into the couch. his eyes drew closed while his head fell onto the soft cushions. for a second, you’d grown worried—but chris can fend for himself. you’ve ought to kick him out if he doesn’t start paying rent anytime soon, anyways.

“are you gonna be fine out here? want some . . water?”

he rolls his eyes, “nah, ‘m gonna jerk off out here for a lil’ bit,” he turns to you and grins innocently, “watch or not, i don’t give a fuck.”

you swore to chris—and yourself that you were not going to give in to him again. he’s gotten you into so much trouble, with cops and paying customers, and you can’t let him know you forgive him. so all you do is nod and walk off to your room.

that doesn’t mean you can’t think about him.

chris looked real fucking good, too. he had finally got rid of that one disgusting cap he keeps wearing on his head to showcase his hair that you liked to tug on when his head was shoved in between your thighs, and he wore that one hoodie you remember wiping his cum off your thigh with. it’s honestly a little gross, but you’re so deprived off of chris that you think it’s hot.

resting your head onto your pillow, you decide to scroll through your phone and giggle at random videos. that was always your favorite way pass time your high. though, when you start scrolling on instagram for a quick second, you get a text from chris. he’s so needy—you think, yet you open it.

it’s a video recorded for two minutes, and he put invisible ink over the attachment.

you tap on it until the virtual particles disappear, and you’re left with the image of chris’ smiley face, the dim kitchen light illuminating over his face. you know he’s just made the video from how his eyes are even lower than they were from when you last saw him, and he’s got that little cut on his lip from when one of his customers finally had enough of him scamming him in plain sight.

it’s suspicious, but you still click on the video.

the video starts off with, of course, chris smiling innocently, but then the camera pans around to showcase his lap. the more you stare, you come to find that you could see the clear outline of his dick. fuck, you always forget how big he is.

“fuckin’ piss me off,” he grumbles low enough just for you to hear as his large hand comes in view, cupping his bulge and hissing sharply, “i feel s’fuckin’ helpless ‘cause i can’t fuck you. ‘s all your fault.” he slurs.

your thighs immediately tighten as chris shamelessly babbles to you, slick dampening your panties from his whiny voice. all you can hear are the slow, staggered breathing and the deafening sound of a belt unbuckling. you watch as the camera shakes a bit and goes out of focus before it pans back to his cock in his hand. of course he went fucking commando.

“fuck,” chris gasps as he starts stroking himself in slow, languid motions. the pre cum that leaks from his swollen tip and down to the base had helped to create a low squelching sound each pump of his fist he takes, which only made you wetter. a few seconds go by of him fucking his fist and groaning your name while bad mouthing you at the same time before the suddenly video ends, leaving you on a cliffhanger.

ugh—no fair, you wanted to see him cum!

you’re left with your lips parted in both shock and arousal, and your panties soaked through. man, fuck this. you’re horny and still very high, and you really want some dick. jumping off the bed, you beeline toward your door in a furious stupor and fling it open. and surprisingly, you find that chris stands on the other side, cheeks red and lips pouty as he stares down at you.

“. . .chris?”

and then he’s kissing you, both hands digging into your waist as he quietly simpers into your mouth. chris pushes his body closer to yours until he’s guiding you backwards and the back of your knees hit the bed, and you can feel the large bulge tucked beneath his jeans digging into your bare thigh.

“mph—c-chri-“ you squeal against his swollen lips, a hand flying up to grip his bicep.

“shut the fuck up.” chris grumbles back before he attacks your lips with his once again. he uses his body weight and the sluggishness of his bones as an advantage to push you down onto the bed, sloppily maneuvering you to have your head resting on the plethora of pillows and plushies he had won you in one of those rigged carnival games one time—a time where he wasn’t acting like a bum and hiding from the feds in your apartment.

he’s kissing you so hard you think he’s making bruises on your lips. and you also think he couldn’t get more animalistic, but the way one of his hands hurriedly travel south to sneak its way under your tank top to cup your bare tit tells you otherwise. his thumbs grazes over your nipple and he smirks against your lips when you whine lowly.

you almost give up entirely like you intended to, but the stubbornness in you is telling you the exact opposite. your legs come up to wrap themselves around chris’ waist, the material of his hoodie riding up and exposing his back. with the amount of strength you muster up with the boy practically making you jelly, you managed to maneuver him into your position. he stares at you in slight bewilderment as you straddle him, pulling your lips off of his by pushing on his chest.

“the fuck you think y’er doin’, huh?” chris voice is staggered and quite slurred. low and red tinted eyes bore into you as you pant, licking the shared saliva off your lips as you look back at him with similar jaded eyes.

you huff with a whine, “you’re not gonna win, chris.” your voice betrays on you, suddenly coming out lower than you intended to and more meek.

he sighs rather loudly while his eyes flicker to your soft, plush thighs caging his waist in, “‘s all good. i’ll let you win,” he smirks a bit as his hands come up to grip onto the fat of your thighs, vision trailing up to you in a languid pace, “just make me cum, a’ight?”

and honestly, you’re in too deep. your panties are beyond soaked, the rough denim of chris’ jeans feels too good on your bare skin, and the thc intoxicating your mind is making you incredibly needy for the boy before you.

so, you nod, leaning down until your breasts squish against his chest and connecting your lips to his. chris heavily sighs into your mouth while one hand reaches down to grab fat globes of your ass cheek, the other coming up to pinch your chin so he could slip his tongue into your mouth.

sneakily, the hand that was on your ass begins to hook around the drenched cotton of your panties, pulling them to the side so he could feel how wet he made you.

your breath staggers heavily while chris begins to get two heavy fingers sticky with your slick, rubbing them up and down your puffy folds in a slow pace. and he doesn’t let you pull away from his lips, not even when he starts massaging your clit enough to make you whimper against him.

chris oh so desperately wishes he could get a 4k shot of your sweet pussy he’s been missing, but having you flush against him with your saccharine scent invading his nostrils made up for it. and the fact that you were even letting him touch you—it was his lucky day.

your pussy feels extra sensitive now that you’re all high and lax, but also you have chris touching you. you can feel how your hole constantly leaks and he couldn’t be more eager to spread it around your sticky clit and flick his wrist faster.

all you can do is wither helplessly and moan into his mouth. you hate how good he is with his fingers, especially when you reluctantly have to pull away from his plump lips to let some air back into your lungs. your two hands plant to the bed on either side of chris’ head to stabilize yourself and you catch him just staring up at you.

“what?” you breathe out with a whine.

he slowly smirks, “jus’ missed you.” and then he’s lining two fingers up to your hole, his lips blooming into a full smile as he watches you gasp and squeal. chris’ patience completely runs thin when his slender fingers bottom out, and all he can feel is your slick coating them.

so, all he does is roll you over onto your back, despite you frantically clinging onto him like you were going to fall on your ass, and continues to massage your gummy walls.

all it takes is one glance down at your wet cunt, all glossy and pretty around his digits just as he remembers, to lose all his composure. chris grunts loudly while his fingers begrudgingly slides out of your tight hole, glancing up to find you already pouting up at him.

“gotta fuck this pussy, baby. don’t give a fuck what you say.” he says, in a hurry to stick his shiny fingers in his mouth.

if you weren’t just as needy to have him dick you down until you couldn’t remember the alphabet, you would’ve laughed in his damn face at his sheer desperation when he manhandles you onto your hands and knees, ass perked up high. you barely hear the comical rip! of your panties as chris tears the flimsy cotton off your body and throws it over his shoulder.

in a daze, you glance over your shoulder to watch in utter amazement as chris sits up on his knees to grip onto the hem of his hoodie and hold it in place with his teeth and reach down to unzip his jeans. he pulls the denim off his waist just enough for his leaking cock to spring out, hitting his belly button and creating a wet plap! sound.

chris hisses under his breath as he wraps the hand that was plowing into your pussy around his sensitive cock. he uses his free hand to harshly grip onto the fat of your ass so he could place his length right onto your puffy cunt, hissing sharply when he starts tapping his pink tip across your hole and your nub.

“chrisss,” you huff meekly, staring up at him with furrowed brows, glossy red eyes, and a pout, “put it in.”

he hums as he mumbles over the thick cotton, “got you beggin’ now, huh?” he damn near chuckles when your face contorts into sudden offense, beginning to raise yourself on your elbows to create an argument before you feel his thick tip prodding at your entrance.

it’s then that you melt back onto the bed, whimpering openmouthedly as you shove your face into your pillow. you don’t know what to focus on—chris’ cock splitting you open, his large hands splayed all across your body—either way, you do know that you want him to fuck you.

you lift your head off the cushiony pillow to whine nasally just as your gummy walls begin to tightly hug his tip. just as chris always does, he enters you painfully slow, so that you could feel every inch of him stretching you out. it always makes your eyes water and your hips buck back into his, just plain inpatient that he’s taking his sweet ol’ time with you.

“missed this pussy.” chris whines to himself as he bottoms out, eyes trained down on your wet cunt swallowing up every inch of his cock. your mouth just hangs open; you’ve grown to forget how much he’s packing that feeling him prodding your cervix makes you absolutely dumb.

he doesn’t give you any time to even breathe before he’s retracting his hips back and thrusting forward with a guttural grunt, blue eyes trailing down to your arched figure when he hears you mumble something.

a sinister smirk curls on chris’ lips as he opts to hold onto his hoodie, so he could lean down until his clad chest was flush to your back. a wide hand snaking over your throat to squeeze at your pulse point, and it makes you turn your head to look back at him.

“you say somethin’?”

your pussy flutters when chris’ cock repeatedly hits your g-spot, making you choke on whatever you planned to have said.

“c’mon, use ‘em words.”

you can’t help but whine pathetically at the pet name, “i-it’s too much.”

chris can’t help but rise back up, mounting a hand on your waist before pulling out. and you can’t even protest—just waiting for his next move patiently. he rubs his slippery tip against your glistening folds with a hiss, “it’s too much?” he asks.

a small ‘mhm’ exits through your lips as you unconsciously rock your hips. the emptiness of your cunt doesn’t last long when he decides to nudge his cock back into you, sliding in even slower than before just so he could relish in your pretty moans.

“yeah, i really don’t give a fuck.” chris deadpans low enough just for you to hear. he doesn’t care about how your hand reaches to grip onto his wrist as you gasp, instead he just starts plowing into you—no mercy given.

you always felt bad for your downstairs neighbors whenever you and chris fucked, but this time you have to bake some cookies or something.

a satisfied grin grows on his face when he catches the way you fuck yourself back into him, ass clapping against his pelvis. damn, he missed that.

chris has felt like a wild animal ever since he started crashing at your place. when he showed up at your door, the last thing he expected was to be held off of sex from you. one day when he was just looking at himself through the bathroom mirror, his right bicep was far more toned than his left.

and he’s guilty for that—it’s just that a man has his needs! whenever you’re out, he’d sneak into your room to grab ahold of one your perfumes and bring it up to his nose while he stroked himself off, all while laying in your bed with your scent hugging him.

so, to finally be inside of you after so long, chris tries to hold off . . to savor this moment, but your pussy betrays him. you’re so wet, and you’re already clenching around him while squealing his name.

he lets out breathy chuckles while he continues to pump himself in you, eyes locked down on the creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, “you gonna cum? already?”

“shut the fuck up.” you huff with a whine. yet, he’s right. your entire body feels like a cloud, and your mind is fuzzy. all you think of is chris and that fucking pipe on him. your stomach clenches as you feel your orgasm approaching full speed, and neither you or chris get any warning before you cum . . . hard.

your pussy tightens and pulses around his dick as it gets coated with your cum. it doesn’t take much long for him to follow up behind you, whimpering under his breath as he forfeits the hold on his hoodie to grip onto the fat of your ass cheeks, thrusting into you deeper.

“shiiiit, gonna fuckin’ cum.” he grunts to himself. chris’ vision turns white as his stomach caves in, full on moaning out loud while he fills your cunt up with his cum.

you stay pliant in his hold while you both take a few seconds to come up from your high, fingertips digging into your hips as he slowly pulls out. his lips are parted in awe as his cum starts dripping out your hole.

chris leans forward, his arm sliding under the space of your arched body to scoop you up with his bicep curled around your neck. it’s an uncomfortable position with you on your knees and your back completely flush against his chest, but a kiss planted on your cheek makes up for it.

“you ‘aight?” chris mumbles against your ear, a large palm splayed just under your chest.

you paw at the bicep wrapped around your neck, “missed you.” is all you say, sparing a glance at the boy when suddenly he attacks you with a searing kiss. this is what you missed, and you wish it could be like that forever.

chris ordered you food as aftercare and he even opted to stay in bed with you. you had changed your clothes, freshened up—even took another shower, but somehow he was still wearing that fuckass hoodie.

you glance up at him, studying his side profile before you speak up, “why do you still have that hoodie on, chris?”

he pauses, his adams apple bobbing as he momentarily licks his lips, “jus’ cold.”

but you know better than that, and besides, chris is the worst liar ever. your brows raise as you lift yourself off the bed, a pretend smirk on your lips while you swing a leg across his waist, straddling him. you snatch his phone from his hands, fingers toying with the hem of his hoodie.

“round two?” you don’t really wait for an answer, you just lean down to lock your lips against his as a distraction before you hurriedly tug the material off. just when you pull away to remove the hoodie from his head, that’s when you spot the splotchy and fresh hickeys scattered all the way from his collarbones and down to his ribs.

chris follows your gaze and gulps. oh, he’s in deep shit.

you hum against his plush lips, arching your back to push yourself further into matt’s chest and tilting your head to lightly make space between his lips.

“you can touch me, y’know.” you sweetly mumble over your boyfriend’s lips, a grin growing on your face when you feel matt’s hands shiver.

“y-yeah?” matt’s voice is hoarse and scratchy, almost like he had just woken up. he pants against your lips when you hum and nod, eyes daring to roll to the back of his head as you rake your hand through the short hairs on the back of his head.

and of course, without a beat, matt does exactly what you say. a shaky hand slides up your thigh and goes to paw at your waist, and he keeps it right there for a moment before you grip onto his hair, suddenly deepening the kiss and making his self control falter. that’s when his hand glides up even further and latches onto your tit. a meek groan is stuck in his throat when he realizes you’re not wearing a bra and he can feel your nipples hardening in his palm.

you’re trying real hard not to giggle at your boyfriend’s attempt to keep calm. he’s so innocent and doesn’t know what to do with you nor himself, maybe that’s why he’s only groping you over your shirt.

but even just the slightest touch makes you so desperate for him. when you break the kiss apart, matt slightly peeks an eye open to watch you let out a puff of air over his lips, brows pinched up in pleasure. oh, he didn’t realize you’d react like that. he’s not complaining either, not when you look so pretty and definitely not when your hips subconsciously buck into his lap and letting out a gasp when your panty clad cunt bumps up against his bulge.

“f-fuc—oh my god . .” he whines under his breath. at this point, matt is gone. his lips are parted, cheeks are burning, and all he can do is just look down in between each other’s bodies and catch a glimpse of your puffy pussy grinding up against his boner. the hand that isn’t on your tit is latched onto the waistband of your baby pink panties, just holding on for dear life as you whimper his name in his ear.

it’s all so fun to you. you pull away from matt to properly get a look at him and there’s nothing you could do besides grinning at him teasingly. he already looks so fucked out, lips glistening in the low lighting, his hair tousled all over the place, and his eyes are so low that he looks high.

you lean forward to place kisses starting from his jawline and trailing up to his ear where you can then feel his hips bucking up, “want me to keep going?” you giggle. and of course, matt nods wordlessly, muttering a whiny ‘uh huh’ under his breath before he hurriedly places his lips back onto yours.

you’re really glad everyone is sleeping, you don’t know how loud matt can get, nonetheless you can’t wait to see.

plug!chris who doesn’t have social media. only way for customers to contact him is through telegram.

plug!chris who loves ripping people off right in front of their eyes.

plug!chris who has gotten in trouble with the police too many times to count.

plug!chris who has been making it his mission to befriend at least one police officer to make his life easier.

plug!chris who is both street smart and book smart.

plug!chris who has to stay away from sativa strains because he ends up being horny 24/7.

plug!chris whose first time smoking consisted of smoking out of an apple during his sophomore year of high school and he ended up eating the entire apple.

plug!chris who has insane munchies and will make the most weirdest meals ever.

plug!chris who always has an ‘emergency blunt’ with him.

plug!chris who only sparks up with matt or nate because he trusts them.

plug!chris who will always love his backwoods.

plug!chris who has his girl’s face printed on his lighter.

plug!chris who is either a giggly mess or completely relaxed when high.

plug!chris who tries his very best to not smell like weed near his parents, but when he’s whispering to matt if he smells, there’s never a time where he said no.

plug!chris who always has empty carts on his nightstand.

plug!chris who loooooves high sex.

“i can’t cum!” is all you whine out. your pout only curls deeper when all chris does is side eye you, lips parted in surprise. he doesn’t respond immediately—just eyes you down like you told him something extremely stupid.

“. . . i don’t get how that’s my fuckin’ problem.” his brows raise expectedly while his voice narrows down into something you’d typically use when talking to a child that’s teetering over the edge of throwing a fit. chris doesn’t really seem to care anyway, because he sits back down onto the couch next to you and resumes counting the wad of cash that lays on the table in front of him.

you huff, uncrossing your arms and showcasing your hands to the boy next to you. chris lets out a begrudgingly sigh as he inspects your hands. by all means, they look perfectly normal—a little on the smaller side—but he had taught you how to reach those special spots with those short fingers, so what the fuck do you mean you can’t cum?

“i can’t read minds, kid. you look fully capable of makin’ y’erself cum.”

you stare at him through your lashes, “my nails, chris.”

chris just glances at your long, square acrylics, and it hits him. a dry chuckle falls from his lips as he then watches you cower a little in embarrassment.

“you serious? came all the way over here ‘cause those nails ain’t doin’ it for you?”

you timidly shrug when you feel your cheeks heat up, “i’ve been trying, but it doesn’t feel good. ‘need you to make me cum.” a relieved sigh falls out your lips when chris puts his cash down, pinching the joint from his lips and passing it to you.

“jesus—fine. hold this, and take your pants off.” and you do exactly what he says, but not without squealing excitedly and kissing his cheek. it surprises you a little when chris gets off the couch and gets on his knees, grabbing you by the thighs and tugging you closer to his face. you gasp under your breath at the sudden aggression and you grow to be embarrassed when he roughly spreads your legs apart. a sick grin spreads along his pretty face when he spots the comically large wet spot staining your pink panties.

“chriiisss.” you grumble quietly, huffing and puffing impatiently before he gets sick of hearing it and decides to shut you up by wrapping his large hand around your wrist, guiding the joint to your lips. your lips envelope it begrudgingly and you take a hit.

“shut the fuck up for a sec’, a’ight?” he sasses. his low eyes are dead set on your clothed pussy as he hooks a finger around your panties, sliding to the side to showcase your sensitive mess. god, he could never get used to such a pretty sight. your hole constantly leaks and chris is eager to lick you clean, tongue lolled out completely as he dives right in.

you couldn’t even speak—this was exactly what you needed. chris becomes an animal once he gets his mouth on you; whimpering and groaning against your soaked pussy like he was on drugs. the bottom half of his face is already glossy when he comes back for air, glancing up at you with hooded eyes and a small smirk when he sees how completely fucked out you are. you whimper when chris spits onto your cunt, your free hand flying down to grip onto his soft hair before he licks his saliva up with a groan. his plush lips wrap around your clit and sucks on it gently, making you pant and gurgle out his name while the joint sits lazily on the corner of your mouth.

and his head was always so sloppy, you could literally feel how his saliva mixed with your arousal drips down onto the couch. chris is practically drooling onto your cunt as he alternates with flicking his flat tongue across your puffy clit and suctioning his lips around it with a guttural whine each time. his large hands splay flat on your thighs to prevent you from closing around his head, and his biceps flex when you start thrashing and grabbing onto his wrist helplessly.

the vibrations from chris moaning directly into your cunt made your hole clench around nothing—momentarily pulling a choked cry out of you. he guides his tongue lower to collect the creamy nectar that pools at your hole, obscene squelches bouncing off the walls when the tip of nose bumps against your clit. it’s then that the coil in your stomach tightens, broken whines of the boy’s name falling past in your lips in warning.

“mmph—ch-chris . .” you keen lowly, fisting the boy’s locks as your lips parted to let out little ah’s. chris hummed in response and continued to play with your nub. he pulled away for a second to glance up at you, smirking with his lip tucked in his teeth.

“ya’ happy now, kid?” he rasps, maintaining eye contact with you while he kitty licks your throbbing clit. you let out whimpers every time the tip of his tongue catches onto your pussy, nodding wordlessly, “good.”

and when chris directs his attention back onto your cute cunt, you knew you weren’t going to last any longer. he sticks his tongue out and begins to lick a thick stripe from your drooling hole to your little nub where he wraps his lips around, grunting boyishly. suddenly, your fist tightens around his hair and all you can do is whimper helplessly. your hips buck up, thighs straining as you attempt to close around his head, but his large hands stop you from doing so.

your orgasm hits you like a train—you barely have any time to warn chris when your stomach tightens, your poor pussy sensitizing within seconds. whimpering noisily, you try to push his head away, but he doesn’t let up. no, instead, he takes a hand to grab onto your wrist, pining it to your thigh. you earn a glare in which you pout, hips bucking frantically as you cum. all you can see is white. you let out strings of chris chris chris like a mantra as he repeatedly swipes his tongue over your pussy, dipping down to lick your sweet cum.

and even when you come down from your high, he doesn’t stop. you have to use your free hand to push chris away, whining that you’re too sensitive. luckily, he listens and comes up for air, panting loudly as he licks his lips clean. his eyes look even lower than when he was smoking on that joint that sits prettily on your lips, and he rises up to sit down next to you, you following suit which leads you to straddle his lap. he looks at you, lips parted and pussy drunk, and snatches the joint from you to take a deep hit.

“ya’ satisfied?” chris asks, quite unimpressed as if he wasn’t going ham on your pussy just seconds ago. you smile nonetheless, taking account of the rough denim poking your bare mound as you place a kiss on his stubbly jaw.

“can you fuck me now?” you hum, a little giggly when you see the face chris makes at you.

“y’er doin’ all the work, kid,” he shrugs, “supplier’s comin’ in ten and i gotta count the rest of this cash, so hurry the fuck up . . .”

he’s thinking about you everyday—missing your pretty voice and your touch, so it’s no surprise when he’s back in his hotel room, scrolling through your instagram page while his dick strains against his sweats.

the poor boy’s rubbing himself through the thin fabric, biting on his plump lip as he stares at your innocent smile—a sickly lewd contrast to the small bikini adorned on your body.

matt remembers taking that picture on the beach, and just as soon as you both had gotten home, he fucked you ‘til you only knew his name.

just the mere thought had him so pent up. matt’s scrambling to pull his sweats down just enough to free his weepy cock, right hand coming up to grip the base of his dick while his left hand holds his shaky phone. the whine he lets out is no far from pathetic, but he could care less.

his thumb swipes over his pink, swollen mushroom tip to collect the pre cum that pooled and he lets out a breathy sigh, eyes half lidded in pleasure while his hips bucked up.

matt decides he can’t take anymore of stroking himself to the memories of his sweet girlfriend. his thumb exits instagram and goes to call you, the only sounds echoing throughout the spacious hotel room containing of his heavy breathing and the impending rings of his phone.

with the phone to his ear, he prays that you pick up with the wanting to hear your pretty voice, “mmph, please pick up, baby,” matt whimpers desperately. his brows furrow when he glides his hand up and down his shaft, squeezing a little tighter when he reaches the tip. eventually, it goes to voicemail and he comes to figure you might be sleeping, but he decides to leave a message for you anyway.

“h-hey, pretty girl—mmph—just wanted to let you know how much i miss you,” matt slightly pants, chest heaving up and down. his hips buck up into his hand while his eyes squeezing shut. “miss you so fucking much, y’know that? f-fuuck, baby,” his breath hitches as the motions of his fist moves faster, the lewd squelching noises no doubly picking up over the line, “can’t stop thinking about you—hah, shiiiittt,” he moans with a whimper, “can’t wait to come home,” he groans when he runs his thumb over his slit, gathering more pre cum.

a pair of blue eyes roll to the back of matt’s head while he strokes his cock faster, breathing in deeply as his stomach tenses up, “i, uh, wanted to call to check on you, but i know—god—i know you’re probably sleeping,” he moans through his words, “i love ya’, alright? love you, baby . . . s’fucking much.” he sounds so desperate, voice cracking with each whimper. “jus’ . . call me when you wake up? please, baby? i need to hear your voice.” matt practically endures a whole body shiver while his lower stomach tenses up the faster his fist glides up and down his pretty dick.

his sharp jaw goes slack after the mental image of fucking you into your squeaky mattress while you whine his name, your chubby walls hugging his dick with a warmly invite. matt breathily chuckles as he continues his endless babbles, “need you so bad you don’t understand,”

“i—fuck—such a fucking mess, all ‘cause of you,” he whines, almost grumpily, “’m sorry, baby . . . s-shit—i can’t stop.” matt thrusts his hips off the bed to meet his hurried strokes right as he grows closer to his orgasm. “so—mmh—fuckin’ pathetic . . . gonna cum just lookin’ at your pictures,” his eyes flutter shut to mentally fixate on the way he’s jerking his dick, wishing it was you doing it instead.

a whimper of your name slips past matt’s plump lips as he gasps whinily, “baby, baby, f-fuuuck—” he hiccups, “gonna cum f’you . . .” and he cuts himself off with another low groan of your name, incoherent babbles spilling out his lips as spurts of his cum shoot from his swollen tip, landing on his hands and stomach. he moans loudly as he draws out his orgasm. the room fills up with matt’s deep breaths, slowly stroking himself as he comes down from his high.

a few seconds of silence goes by before matt speaks up, “miss you s’much, baby, but y’know that. call me as soon as you hear this, alright? night, sweet girl. love you.” he hangs up, leaving himself lying there in his mess.

your curves, your pretty tits, your waist, your oh so soft thighs, and your lips. oh fuck, your lips. all he could think is . . . why couldn't your daughter take those features?

knocking on the door twice, the door immediately swings open to be met with your doe eyes staring up at him, worry settling in on them, "oh, chris—what’re you doing here, sweetie?" you pout sympathetically, noticing how chris looked so disheveled; hair sticking up in awkward places and little beads of sweat forming on his upper lip, “are you looking for eve?”

chris decides to play innocent, nodding his head and pouting at you.

“‘m so sorry, honey. she just left.” your voice was so smooth and comforting. he could only imagine how you’d sound when you’re getting your back blown out by him.

he raised his brows, pink lips forming into an 'o' as an attempt to look oblivious, " o-oh, shit. my bad." he huffs out a nervous laugh, turning around to begin walking off.

"wait!" you suddenly yelled. if chris didn’t know any better, you might’ve sounded desperate.

he looked so flustered and parched, so the least you could do for the sweet boy was to nurse him back to hydration . . . right? when chris stopped in his tracks, you didn't get to see the wicked smirk on his face before he turned around, meeting your eye.

“yes, ma’am?”

you frowned, "please don’t go back out there. i know you walked over here, poor boy."

fuuuck, you’re so caring. it makes his dick hard.

you widen the front door and chris immediately gives in, grinning and thanking you while heading inside your home. he’s been in your house before, but something about being just the two of you, alone, made everything feel special. just thinking about it made him feel like a perv—he was getting off to it, though.

chris eyes you the whole time.

you make your way into the kitchen, leaning down as you open the fridge door and pull out a pitcher of lemonade. you’re completely oblivious about the two blue eyes that ogle at your tits, or your ass when you bend down. that just makes it funner for chris. you pour the liquid in a tall glass and slid it over to the boy who sat himself down on the kitchen island.

while doing so, you couldn’t help but wonder if he really all this way to your house.

“chris, did you really walk all the way over here? if you wanted to come over, you could’ve called me, sweetie. i would’ve drove you.” chris took a few seconds to answer, a little busy chugging down the refreshment. some of the liquid slipped past his lips and ran down his chin.

his adams apple bobbed as he finished the last of the lemonade, setting the glass down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "yeah, sorry. i will next time." chris giggles lowly, eyes boring its way into yours.

you smile at him when you both went quiet, “do you, uhm, want me to call eve and tell her you’re here?”

“nah, let it be a surprise.”

you teasingly coo at him, a coy grin playing at your lips when chris meekly shrugs, “she’s so lucky to have you, y’know.”

that makes him smirk, “yeah?”

“yeah.” it’s your turn to act shy, crossing your arms under your chest nervously. you spot chris’ eyes traveling down your chest, but you don’t say anything.

“soooo, you don’t have a man or somethin’ like that?”

“. . a man?”

he shrugs again, but with more confidence. a cocky smirk plays crooked on his lips while he continues, “like, someone you can depend on?”

“i guess not,” you huff out a laugh, “i’ve been too busy raising eve that i’ve never really thought about that.”

oh, but you have.

it’s so wrong, so disgusting and immature of you, but you think about it . . with chris . . . a lot. of course, you just wouldn’t admit it. you pushed those thoughts aside before you could get too carried away.

“damn,” he purses his lips, “you ever get lonely?”

you playfully furrow your brows at chris, “that seems a little inappropriate to ask that about your girlfriend’s mother.”

“is it?” he smirks while sliding his tongue over his bottom lip, “i just wanted to know a little more ‘bout you.”

you notice the atmosphere change in just a second. it makes you nervous.

“what do you wanna know?”

“i dunno . . .” chris then shrugs, maintaining eye contact with you as he walks past you. his hands paw at your waist to move you aside, purposely grinding his bulge against your ass. he hears you suck in a shaky, deep breath and a grin blooms across his face, “would you fuck a younger guy?” he turns the sink faucet on, so he’s unable to hear the shocked gasp that slips past your lips.

“chris! that’s h-highly inappropriate!” your head whips over to your left to stare at chris in bewilderment, eyes widened like saucers and lips parted.

you watch chris turn the faucet off, wiping his wet hands on his jean clad thighs before turning to face you, “sooo, no?”

“i-i can’t answer that—“

“why not?”

he can’t be serious.

you scoff at him, your eyes straining a bit as you try not to stare at the obvious bulge poking from chris’ jeans. he leaned against the sink counter with his arms crossed over each other, looking at you with his eyes darkened with lust.

“please don’t make me say it.” you can’t even muster yourself up to care as you beg chris. you’re just hoping all this was just one of those wet dreams you’ve been having of him lately.

chris knows you won’t say it, so he takes the cake for you, “what eve doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

you feel more lightheaded each step chris takes toward you, the potent smell of his cologne invading your senses. he’s even more prettier close up—your head’s so fuzzy, “i-i can’t do that to her, chris.” you whisper.

“no?” chris’ sympathetic pout seems purely fake when his hard stare on you intimidates you, “you sayin’ you don’t want me?”

“chris . . .” you whimper softly.

“c’mon, say it. you’ll be my good girl, won’t you?”

you can’t believe how a younger man like chris could have so much power over you. his suave voice immediately makes you fold, along with his piercing gaze that leaves you cowering.

two hands wrap around your waist to pin you against the counter, his bulge pressing against your bare thigh.

“i . . i want you.” you managed to spit it out with chris pushing his body impossibly closer to yours, his chest smushing against yours and his breath fanning over your face. he smiles at you, and it almost seems innocent before he leans in and locks his lips with yours.

it’s been so long since you’ve kissed someone, let alone been with a man this close to you. so you expect chris to pull away and sneer at your sloppy motions, but instead he sighs in almost relief against your lips.

chris’ kisses are messy and uncoordinated, but somehow in the best possible way. he sucks on your bottom lip, whining nasally while he lets you explore his mouth. your lips are coated in a glossy sheen with his saliva when he pulls away, panting and staring at you with low eyes—almost like he was high.

“. . . you’d let me fuck you? hm?” he mumbles as his head lowers down to hide himself in your neck, starting to attack the sensitive skin on your pulse point immediately. that action makes you keen and paw at his shoulder.

“uh huh, please.” you whine desperately, your hand rising up to fist chris’ soft hair as he grazes his teeth against the bruise that started glooming on your neck, soothing the sting with a kitty lick. you barely recognize yourself; you’ve become so needy for your daughter’s boyfriend that you can’t even think about any of the consequences. and in some way, it makes the whole situation just seem better.

you don’t know how you’ve landed in this position, nor how you’ve ended up in your bedroom; you, with your face smushed against your pillow and your ass up high, kisses being placed all over your thighs. it’s been ten minutes since chris has had you in this position, soaked panties pooling at your ankles while he teased you everywhere except where you needed him most.

“chris,” you whimpered, lifting your head up to glance over at him from your shoulder, “please.” you both know what you’re begging for, but chris wants to hear it.

he wrapped his hands around your waist to maneuver you closer to his face and spit directly onto your drooling cunt, smirking as you squeal, “what do you want, then? tell me and i’ll give it to ya’.”

it wasn’t a lie that chris brought out the slut in you.

“i want your mouth . . and your fingers.” you whined quietly, pouting while you wave your ass around when the throbbing in your clit started getting unbearable.

your brain cancels out whatever comes out of chris’ mouth next the moment he finally hovers his mouth over your sopping clit, he gently strokes a thumb up and down. opening you up slowly, he creates a single slow lick to make you whimper. it doesn’t take him long to succumb his need as he dives in, tongue lulling out to lick a thick stripe from your clit and to your hole. a groan emits from him as the taste of you spreads throughout his tastebuds. it’s like your pussy was a drug. he’s addicted to you from just one taste.

you could feel his stubble scratch along your thighs as he eats you out with vigor, his chin and the tip of his nose slick when he practically stuffs his face in between your thighs.

“oh m’god!” you squeal against your pillow as chris wraps his plush lips around your puffy nub, sucking on it like a pacifier and humming like you were the best meal he’s ever eaten.

chris finds it so amusing how you responded to his touches. whether it’d be him grazing his hand across yours, or he’d be tongue deep in your pretty pussy. you’re so sensitive and he knows you’re just seconds away from coming undone, but he’s just getting started.

he’s so messy and sloppy with your pussy; letting you coat his face in your essence and groaning lewdly while he shook his head side to side with his tongue flat against your clit. he also lets you shake your ass in his face to grind your weeping cunt the way you subconsciously liked.

“chrisss,” you whined, gasping, “‘m gonna cum.” but he’s already one step ahead, hands holding your thighs done and pulling away to spank your ass.

“nah, you’re gonna hold that shit. i’m not done with you.” and when you start huffing and whining, you get another spank, but on your pussy. a high pitched moan slips past your lips at the sting, cheeks heating up as you hear chris chuckle behind you.

when your daughter’s boyfriend puts his mouth back to work on your needy pussy, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you gasp. why was chris so good at eating you out?

the knot in your lower stomach already starts forming when his lips wrap around your nub once again, thighs shaking around chris’ head as your orgasm quickly approaches.

“oh!—i can’t hold it. i-i gotta cum.” you huff nasally. you wrap your arms around your pillow and hug it tightly against your body, the motions on chris’ tongue gradually getting more calculated. and when he doesn’t respond to you, you take it as a sign to let go.

chris let his tongue circle your clit at a relentless pace before then he felt it; he heard you. a cry of his name. you coated his tongue, muscles clutching as your ass practically shook against his face. you were shaking—your legs couldn't stop twitching. if it weren't for his firm grip on your thighs, you wouldn't have been able to withstand so much.

with a final lick to your sensible core, he drew out a whimper from you. you had to reach out and push his head away when you started getting overstimulated.

it’s been so long since you had a proper orgasm, and you could barely take it. you’re whining under your breath as you try to come up from your high, face shoved into the pillow to avoid chris seeing you so slutted out.

a large hand comes up to cup your butt, squeezing the fat in his palm before letting go to give you a slap. he bites away a smirk when you gasp and look over your shoulder with a glare.

“think i’ll be able to fuck you better than men your age?” you know chris was challenging you, but frustration had been bubbling up inside you ever since his nonstop teasing.

you sneak a small smile at him, “maybe? i’m not sure.” and when you hear the shuffle of his zipper and his belt unbuckling, you couldn’t be too sure that you’d grow to be right.

“yeah, we’ll fuckin’ see ‘bout that.” he mumbles, scoffing out a small laugh as he strokes his leaky cock and huffing under his breath. chris uses his free hand to cup your waist when he thrusts forward to come in contact with your puffy cunt, his pink mushroom tip moving in languid motions over your sore nub. your brows pinch together at the feeling of his heavy dick being hugged in between your folds, so lost in the euphoria that you fail to hear your phone ringing until chris leans away to grab your phone.

“wha—“

a wicked smile forms on his face as he taps you on your shoulder, bringing the screen splayed out as your daughter’s name up to your face. when you lock your eyes with it, you gasp and hurriedly place your palms flat against the bed, shooting up and attempting to grab your phone from chris before he pulled it back from you.

“don’t answer it!” but it’s too late.

“hello? mom?”

your eyes widen as chris snickers quietly behind you.

“o-oh,” you clear your throat, fighting a small moan that dared to slip out when he starts to create soft, chaste kisses near the inside of your neck. you nearly backed your hips up against him, but you knew if you did, you wouldn’t be able to stop, “hi—hi honey.”

“umm,” eve stutters out a laugh, “are you okay?”

your words get caught in your throat when chris reaches down to fist his dick and tap his leaking tip against your drooling pussy, squeezing your eyes shut as you pray that the wet pat pat pat didn’t pick up on the other line.

“‘course i am . . . w-why wouldn’t i be?”

“okayyyy, if you say so,” she snickers once again, “but could you facetime me? i want to show you this top i’d think you lik—“

“no!” and when there’s a long pause, you continue hurriedly, “sorry, baby. i just mean . . i can’t right now.”

“uhh, okay. i’ll just buy it for you some other time.”

“yeah. thanks, honey. i’ll s-see you later, ‘kay?” you tuck your lip between your teeth as chris uses his dick to play with your needy pussy.

“. . . sure? bye m—“

chris ends the call for you, throwing your phone somewhere across your room with a cocky smile.

he chortles, “jesus, you’re bad at lying. just tell your daughter you’re ‘bout to get fucked by her boyfriend.”

you glare at him, immensely bringing your brows into a furrow, “no, i’m not gonna say that. are you crazy?”

“maybe.”

your eyes rolled—yet part of you felt like he wasn’t exactly lying. after all, he could probably be insane. perhaps he was. who would even seduce their girlfriend’s mother anyway . . . ?

to be frank, you couldn’t really care. all you really cared about was getting pleasured—riding out orgasm after orgasm with him, and that’s exactly what you ended up doing for hours on end.

you would find yourself with your ass perked up high in the air, arms folded over each other as chris mercilessly pounds into your sweet pussy, relishing in how you squealed and whined at the pure stretch and length of his cock. you’ve always known he’d be big; those grey sweatpants gave him no mercy on him, but to have him deep inside you, he felt so much more bigger.

“look at you, takin’ my cock like a big girl.” it’s ironic, considering how he’s almost a decade younger than you, but chris really was proud of you. the minute he started sliding the head of his dick near your slick entrance, you were immediately running away and gasping that he wouldn’t fit. but with a little work, he’s got you moaning and all fucked out for him.

chris playfully brings a hand to feel near your tummy, his fingers plucking the fabric of your tanktop and sliding it further, further and further until his thumb brushes against your perky nipples. of course you just happened to not have a bra on.

“c-chris,” you moaned, body shaking and bouncing with every hard thrust your daughter’s boyfriend gave you. it’s so sudden—in just seconds, he’s had you with your back flush to his bare chest, his hand around your throat and your palms flat on your bed to fuck you impossibly deeper. you felt your back arch off his back and it didn’t take long for him to reach that particular spot. once you felt his tip prod against there—way past inside the orifices of your cunt, you let off a sweetened whimper.

“feel good, honey?” chris mocks lowly against your ear, using a hand to cup your bouncing tit and lightly pinch your nipple. he wraps that arm around your torso to keep you steady before his free hand slithers down in between your thighs to catch your clit in his fingers. he rubs soft motion on your sensitive nub and immensely watches your face contort into something pretty and fucked out, “take this dick like a good girl, baby. c’mon, i know you can.” he groans against your ear.

he keeps fucking you like that until your arms give out and you can’t hold yourself up anymore, letting you hide your arms under the pillow and lay your chest flat against the bed. chris leans down to watch your sweet cunt swallow up his cock each time he pulls away, a creamy white ring forming on the thick base. he grabs onto the fat of your ass and smiles in awe as he gawks at the way you fuck yourself back onto him eagerly, your ass clapping against his pelvis noisily.

eyes roll into the depths of your cranium so far back that your vision was pure black. squelch after squelch—it was so erotic, the build up of your incoming release yet again.

it was so slow and tense, you felt your thighs ache and tremble the more you were arched all over for chris; the most sluttiest arch he’s seen in a while.

you found yourself whining out his name as if it was a lewd mantra. over and over again. to chris, though, it was purely music to his ears.

“chris—chris!” you cried out with a squeal, practically a warning before you tense up, hips rapidly twitching as you cum around chris’ dick. white floods your vision when he fucks himself into slower and deeper, letting you ride out your orgasm until you calm down and grow lax against his hold.

god, this was so wrong.

“fuuuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” chris groans as his eyes roll to the back of his head when your hole tightens around his cock. his release vastly approaches and just within seconds, you’re getting filled up to the hilt. your cunt was practically overflowed with such dumps of his cum—you’ve never felt more filled. he shook a little, a hand gripping your ass as you slowly whined your hips to milk him for what he’s worth.

“atta girl.” chris purrs, that same sly smile pressing against his lips as he leans down to kiss you from over your shoulder. his gaze was so hypnotizing. such pools of blue that looked like it had a story to tell . . .

maybe that story is ready for another day though.

thankfully you didn’t get caught.

or did you—you both left your bedroom, you limping down the stairs with chris’ help. but what you don’t realize is how your daughter is already home, sitting down on the couch and busying herself with a movie.

eve spots you both with a smile, you and chris both scrambling apart with bewilderment sketched across your faces. she snickers at you.

“why were you guys upstairs?”

you glance at chris, who somehow had a solemn look on his face, and back at your daughter, “i, uh . . . i was showing him the bathroom.”

“oh . . okay. wellll, i bought you some clothes, i’ll go put them up in your room!” and then she’s getting off the couch, walking up to chris to cup his cheek and place a kiss on his lips. it momentarily brings disgust to you, but you swallow it down when he glances at you.

“you good?” chris chuckles under his breath.

you smile back at him, “. . yeah.”

you don’t know if you’re starting to regret it, or if you want more, but you don’t get more time to think it through when your daughter calls your name from upstairs.

“erm. mom? is this shampoo—? what’s this white stuff on your bed? doesn’t look like shampoo.”

the both of you share the same frozen expression, impish smiles fading before chris nudges you to speak after long seconds passes.

“huh? oh, that’s, uh, mayonnaise. i forgot to clean up after myself.”

eve giggles, “aren’t you allergic to mayonnaise?”

you mentally facepalm, feeling yourself break into a sheepish sweat before you let out a low, “i guess not that brand of mayonnaise.”

“right. riiiight,” your daughter mutters, hearing her footsteps across the floor. it was abrupt, and you felt something fall—adding a followup of her yelling out her boyfriend’s name, “wait a minute . . .” and she glances down near the floor. “aren’t these your boxers, chris?”

bf!matt who sets the table for you, grinning sheepishly at you when you teasingly praise him for being so respectful toward your parents.

bf!matt who endlessly compliments your mom’s cooking the second you place his plate down for him, his fork scraping against the white porcelain to savor the last bite.

bf!matt who waves your mom off when she tries to wash the dishes, claiming that he’s got it.

bf!matt who receives a tight hug from both your parents before they head off to sleep, offering that he’s welcome to spend the night in your childhood bedroom.

bf!matt who’s definitely not going to take down that offer—not when your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and you hurriedly suggest that sleeping on the couch would be better.

bf!matt who groans and tugs you flush to his side, his arm wrapping around your waist to lead you up the stairs and teasing you about the baby pictures of you hung up on the hallway.

bf!matt who’s not surprised to find how hyper feminine your childhood room is; frilly pink and white sheets with a baby pink canopy, a plethora of plushies stacked neatly on the corner of your bed.

bf!matt who tucks you both into your childhood bed after the long night, kissing your forehead and nodding off to sleep.

𓂃 nsfw.

bf!matt who almost fucked you stupid before you both left because he saw how you couldn’t peel your eyes off his ‘respectable’ outfit.

bf!matt who subtly brushes his bulge against your ass as revenge for your teasing when rounding the table to lay out the rest of the plates onto the table, a little smirk growing on his face as you glare at him.

bf!matt who played with your soaked pussy underneath the table all throughout dinner, his fingers strategically circling around your clit while he complimented your mother’s cooking. and when you came with his fingers buried deep inside you, he nonchalantly lifted his hand from beneath your skirt to place said fingers in his mouth, a cocky smile on his face while he told your mom what great work she did. that could only have as many reasons . . .

bf!matt who washes the dishes to ignore how you’ve been pouting at him all day, feeling your arms wrap around your waist to hoist yourself on your toes to whisper how wet you’ve been for him all night, how much you needed him inside you.

bf!matt who uses whatever he can to stall, making conversation with your parents before they go off to sleep—even teasing you about the baby photos on the wall while his hand disappears under your skirt, his fingers digging into the fat of your butt and making you whimper softly.

bf!matt who lays you down on your pink bed, kissing you deeply while he grinds his bulge against your clad cunt.

bf!matt who looks so out of place in your girly room, all dark colors with engraved rings and a tattoo sleeve.

bf!matt who pulls an orgasm out of you just from licking your sensitive clit through your sodden panties, a hand raised up to clasp over your mouth when you got too loud.

bf!matt who peels your panties off you, the drenched cotton being thrown somewhere around the room before he stuffs his face in between your thighs again.

bf!matt who grabs a tan teddy bear from the bunch, cooing at you to bite down onto it while he fucked your pretty pussy.

bf!matt who tries his best not to immediately dump his load into you when he looks down at you, all fucked out while you look at him with stars in your eyes, brows furrowed and meek squeals coming out your muffled mouth as you hug the bear for dear life.

bf!matt who rubs your sore nub with his thumb while you squirt all over his nice shirt and your bed, flipping you over until you were set in a deep arch before plowing into you deeper.

bf!matt who thinks you looked so innocent as you glance over your shoulder at him, teeth bared into the ear of your childhood teddy bear while you cream all over his cock.

bf!matt who cums deep insjde your soaked cunt, grabbing the teddy away from your grip to let your breathing regulate and come down from your high.

bf!matt who tucks you both into bed and kisses your forehead, wearing a proud smirk as he sees you immediately knock out with a satisfied look on your face as his cum drips out of your hole and staining your underwear.