before you can properly position yourself above him he’s forcing you stationary with a hand on your hip.

you barely manage to whine in protest before anton’s chuckling beneath you, causing your own figure to vibrate in the process.

“relax, i just wanna see what all the hype is about.” he taunts, voice barely meeting your ears as he forces the smirk off his lips to match yours in a pout.

your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but that only lasts a split section.

when the crown of your head is met with the same charcoal colored polyester that got you in this position to begin with, you immediately understand what he’s getting at.

now instead of him, it’s you, sporting the black fitted cap on your head. it doesn’t fit you as well as it fits anton and you admit you feel ridiculous under his gaze. but you manage.

the final stamp of possession is embroidered near your right temple in cursive.

‘Anton Lee’

the visual forces another white-hot spurt from the tip of your boyfriend’s cock onto the exposed skin of your inner thighs.

“this getting you off?” you question, voice low in volume whilst you mindlessly secure the hat on yourself until. as soon as rests comfortably you tilt your head as if to ask “good enough?”

“didn’t you start this?”

before anton can tease your any further your hand is between your legs once again.

you don’t even bother pulling your his pants or underwear down fully, looking to save as much time as possible.

the contrast of anton’s angry pleaser between your thighs has you swallowing hard and praying he won’t take note of the way drool pools in your mouth.

he’s big enough to basically cast a shadow onto your front, easily reaching above your belly button in “height” with the way you’re currently positioned.

your skin runs molten, a mixture of vulnerability and the lack of space between the two of you.

eagerly forcing the crotch of your panties to the side you hiss at the first drag of his cock through your messy folds.

“all this…for me?” anton whispers, clearly referring to the way your cunt is leaking on his cock, the evidence reflected in the minuscule amount of light your bedside lamp provides.

growing shy you opt for a nod, whimpering as you buck your hips once more. his tip, heavy and oozing pearl colored beads, nudges your clit and you twitch.

in one singular motion you guide the entirety of anton inside, wrongfully holding your breath once he’s buried to the hilt.

the burn is familiar, and it only tempts you more.

“y–you’re—shit—so big, ton.” you whine, attempting to catch your breath and adjust to the stretch.

“yeah? you can take it, princess.” anton pants, anchoring both his hands at your hips, almost insisting you start to move. “my pretty girl can take it all.”

the fullness is nauseating—in the best way. anton’s cock admittedly had ruined sex with anybody else for you the moment you fucked him for the first time.

but clearly you had no complaints.

you couldn’t help but fall addicted to the demand that taking all of him called for. pressure from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

and you’d do it time and time again with no regrets.

the first lift of your hips is sloppy and uncoordinated, but anton is beyond satisfied. when you allow your eyes to drift downwards you can see every single vein from the tips of his fingers to the underside of his forearms.

he’s trying not to cum.

“mmm—you were made for this, weren’t you? made for me?” anton rasps, his teeth clenched in an attempt to resist.

“y—nng—yes, anton!” you cry , interrupted by an upwards grind of his own hips that punches the tip of his cock against that gummy spot inside.

your head lulls backwards, the brim of anton’s hat knocked by your shoulder blades.

but you don’t let it fall.

your free hand forces it the right way around until your view is partially obscured.

obviously the fact that an item from his closet adorns your figure is having a similar effect on him as it is you. he watches you put on a show as you adjust it before continuing to swirl your hips in his lap.

the noises escaping the back of his throat are a sinful mixture of moaning and whimpering.

if for whatever reason another body was near they may have mistaken them as sobs.

“wearing it better than me, baby” anton pants, nodding towards the accessory atop your head. then he’s hissing at the increased hold your spasming cunt has on each inch of him.

you can tell he’s close, but the way your abdomen is clenching proves that you’re in no position to judge. the squelching coming from below only sends your mind further and further into a frenzy.

“fuck—‘s good…really good.” you pant, tilting your head back slightly to gaze at the man in front of you. but the moment you lock eyes you find yourself regretting your decision.

his gaze is simultaneously near and far. he’s clearly spent but also zeroed in on you and only you.

beads of sweat are peppered across anton’s upper lip and you fight the urge to lean forward and take it between your own. the entirety of his neck is drenched as well. you unintentionally mewl at the sight, imagining the brine on your tongue if you were to lean forward for a lick or two.

fuck it.

careful not to allow anton’s cock to slip out you lean forward, rotating the hat on your head in the process to avoid it getting in the way. once you’re impossibly close you immediately connect your lips right below his collarbone, nipping until his moans follow as instant gratification.

the crack of his hand against your ass cheek causes you to jolt, whimpering shortly after. the sting forces you to clench around him once more, a hot gush trickling from your cunt down expanse of his cock.

your orgasm is coming in hot and fast, adding to the intimacy of the moment.

each of your limbs is tacky with sweat, your arousal practically gluing you to the man beneath you. at this point you’re barely even fucking yourself on anton’s cock due to the way your lower body is full of pins and needles—but to put it simply, you’re a mess.

and anton doesn’t give a fuck.

he’s the only man on earth that could get you this close to cumming, this quickly and with little to no regard for his own release.

truth be told, despite knowing the ins and outs of your body, he could’ve shot his load inside of you the moment you let his hat rest on your head. but you guiding his cock between your thighs was the cherry on top.

sick fuck.

you need to marry him.

eventually you and anton are in sync, slow grinding and labored breathing into each other’s mouths being the name of the game.

“c-close,” you choke, eyes momentarily rolling towards the back of your head. “shit! need—wanna c-cum. wanna cum with you.” the trouble finishing your thought comes with anton’s thumb on your clit, lewdly fondling like the joystick on a gaming controller.

“i’m with you, baby.” anton whispers, planting a kiss to the corner of your lips.

immediately you’re chasing him for a proper kiss when he pulls away, greedily whining as if he isn’t taking you in his arms as leverage and flipping the both of you until your back meets the mattress and his knees bracket your hips.

now it’s anton’s turn to finish what you started.

all it takes is a series of careful deep strokes to get you where you needed to be. the change in angle has you convinced that you can feel each of anton’s thrusts in your chest. tears prick behind your eyelids and your mouth starts to move beyond your mind’s capacity.

“ohmygod!” you manage to cry out, words both slurred and music to anton’s ears as he fucks you through your orgasm.

he follows right behind you—well the mess you made of him. once he can feel you slobbering around his cock his hips aren’t as precise, but you’re too far gone for it to matter.

your ears start to ring and through the disarray you can hear him begging you to cum inside.

in an instant you’re a blabbering mess. nodding like you’re answering the proposition of a lifetime and careful not to let anton’s hat slip from your head.

that’s all it takes for him to press his hips to yours one last time, painting your insides ivory.

anton leans down, finally delivering you the kiss you’d been waiting for. your heart swells and you shockingly manage to kiss back, parting your lips in anticipation of the weight of his tongue on yours. you sigh into his mouth, noticing that he hasn’t even gone soft inside of you.

when you pull back first his eyebrows lift, as if to challenge.

“one more?” you murmur, suddenly coy beneath his gaze.

“on one condition,” anton starts. now it’s your face that reads confusion.

“keep the hat on.”