Do you want the house tour? ft anton ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
Contains: idol!anton x neighbor!reader, female pronouns used. lowercase intended. this is kind of a cliché porn plot tbh (i need to get my mind out of the gutter). rich au (reader is nepotism rich, and he is idol basically what he is now) MDNI
Synopsis: when you moved into your new apartment, you never expected that a year from then, one of kpop's biggest names would be moving to the floor beneath yours. you got this new one because your dad wanted you to be closer to your uni, so he bought you an apartment in the most luxurious complex he found. it has a pool, squashball court, steam room, green space, and now you also have the hottest neighbor in the world. you want to be welcoming, so you waste no time asking him, "Do you want the house tour?"
Warnings: includes p in v, breast play, fingering, oral (m & f), missionary, doggy style, cowgirl, unprotected sex, mirror sex, condescending anton, dom!anton x sub!reader, rough sex, also vanilla, spanking (like once), cumming inside, fingers in the mouth, face in the buldge.
“going down to level 0,” the automated voice of the elevator announced.
you are on the 15th floor of a 17-story building, each floor a duplex; the building has ridiculous amenities your dad definitely did not need to flex this hard over. not that you complained, private pool, squash court, steam room, a lobby that always smells faintly of eucalyptus and money.
the elevator dings softly as the doors slide open. the lobby is…busy. which is new. usually it’s quiet just the low murmur of the concierge and the occasional click of heels across marble. but today there are boxes. big ones. labeled neatly. men in black moving in and out like clockwork, like they’ve done this a hundred times before.
you pause halfway out of the elevator.
you drift over to the front desk, resting your elbows lightly against the polished surface. the concierge, mr.eom glances up, offering you a polite smile. “new resident moving in.” you glance back at the stack of boxes. they’re not chaotic no random junk, no half-taped lids. everything looks expensive. intentional. “huh,” you murmur. “which floor?” you ask.
“14.” right beneath you. your brows lift slightly.
“guess i’ll have to be neighborly,” you say, half-joking, already a little curious. mr.eom smile turns knowing, like he’s entertained by something you’re not in on. “i’m sure that would be…appreciated.” you’re about to ask what that means when the glass doors slide open.
you don’t mean to stare. you really don’t. but the guy walking in makes it a little difficult not to. tall, dressed down but still somehow put together hood up, mask on, like he doesn’t want to be noticed. which is ironic, considering it’s doing the exact opposite.
there’s something unfair about it, honestly. the way he moves, relaxed but precise. the way even the staff seems to shift slightly around him without making it obvious. and even with half his face covered, you can tell-
he’s hot. like, annoyingly so. the kind of hot that makes you straighten a little without realizing. the kind that makes you look away and then immediately want to look back.
you glance at me.eom. he’s watching you. you narrow your eyes slightly. “…that him?” he doesn’t answer, just gives you that same polite smile. which is basically a yes.
you look back at the guy, your new downstairs neighbor, apparently and this time you don’t even bother pretending you’re not checking him out.
14th floor. right beneath you.
you hum softly to yourself, already turning toward the elevators again. yeah. you can be welcoming.
one and a half months later, you still haven’t seen him again.
just glimpses late nights from your balcony when a black car pulls in, the faint sound of footsteps below you at unreasonable hours, the quiet confirmation from mr.eom that “yes, he does live here,” like you were starting to think you imagined the whole thing.
turns out, you didn’t. he’s just…never home.
“he’s barely here,” someone says, swirling their drink like this is a business discussion instead of gossip. “always traveling.” you lean back slightly in your chair, only half listening.
the dinner is being held on the 16th floor mr. and mrs. shim’s wedding anniversary. something intimate, which in this building means twenty people, catered food, and enough glassware to bankrupt a small restaurant. soft music hums in the background, city lights spilling in through floor-to-ceiling windows.
“i heard he bought the place outright,” another voice adds. “no mortgage.”
“of course he did,” someone else scoffs lightly. “have you seen him?” you glance up at that. okay. now you’re listening. “it’s ridiculous,” a woman across from you says, leaning in slightly. “that face, that height and he’s single?”
“that we know of,” her husband mutters. there’s a small ripple of amusement around the table. you hide your smile behind your glass. it’s funny, honestly.
no one here cares what he does, not really. everyone in this building has money, connections, influence whatever it is, they’ve seen it before. but him? he’s interesting for a different reason. he’s attractive. and unavailable. and somehow that’s worse.
you learned his name a week after he moved in.
a quick search, a few late-night scrolls you get the picture. busy, booked, constantly somewhere else. you remember sitting on your bed, phone in hand, frowning slightly. “so you do live here,” you’d muttered to yourself.
not even a proper “hi.” which, if you’re being honest, is a little annoying.
you take a sip of your drink now, tuning the conversation back out as it drifts into something about property values and vacation homes.
the elevator dings. no one really pays attention at first. people come and go during these things all the time late arrivals, early exits, whatever. but then the host pauses mid-sentence. just slightly. and that’s enough.
you follow the shift, eyes flicking toward the entrance. and there he is. in a nice dress shirt and dress pants. no mask. just him. it’s almost worse, seeing him properly. like, objectively, you already knew he was attractive. but this? this feels excessive.
he looks a little out of place, honestly not in a bad way, just…different. like he doesn’t quite belong to the slow, polished rhythm of this room. a few people straighten subtly. someone whispers. you don’t. you just stare for a second.
and then you sigh softly, setting your glass down. because this is getting ridiculous.
one and a half months in the same building and you haven’t even introduced yourself? embarrassing.
you smooth down your outfit, pushing your chair back like this is the most normal decision you’ve ever made. “where are you going?” someone beside you murmurs. you don’t even look at them. “being a good neighbor,” you say lightly.
and before you can overthink it, you walk straight up to him.
this time, you’re actually going to say hi.
you stop just close enough to be polite. not too close. not awkward. just enough that he notices you without feeling cornered.
“hi,” you say, easy, like this isn’t the first time you’ve actually seen him up close.
he looks at you. really looks at you.
and for a second, you get it why people lower their voices when they talk about him, why the conversation at the table kept circling back like they couldn’t help it.
up close, it’s worse. sharper. quieter. more intentional.
“hi,” he replies. his voice is softer than you expected.
not shy, exactly just controlled. like he chooses how much of himself to give at any given moment.
you tilt your head slightly. “you’re my downstairs neighbor.”
there’s a small pause. then just barely, the corner of his mouth lifts.
oh. so he’s aware. interesting.
“you don’t come up much,” you add, casual, like you’re commenting on the weather.
his gaze lingers on you for half a second longer than necessary.
“you don’t come down either.”
you blink. okay. so that’s what this is.
you let out a soft huff of a laugh, crossing your arms loosely. “fair.”
there’s something about the way he looks at you steadily, a little amused, like he’s already decided something about you and isn’t in a rush to explain it.
not shy. not really. just…quiet in a way that makes everything he does say feel deliberate.
“i’m-” you start, then stop yourself, shaking your head lightly. “actually, it doesn’t matter. we live in the same building, introductions feel kind of unnecessary.”
his brows lift slightly at that. “you don’t want to tell me your name?”
you meet his eyes. “you’ll figure it out.”
that does something. you see it quickly, subtly, but it’s there. that flicker of interest sharpening just a little.
“i probably will,” he says. and there’s a hint of something under it.
you smile, just enough to match it. “anyway,” you say, stepping back slightly, “if you ever need anything-”
you gesture vaguely upward. “15th floor. right above you.”
his gaze follows the motion, like he’s actually picturing it.
you shrug. “within reason.”
another pause. then, softer
“i might take you up on that.”
you don’t miss the way he says it. like it’s not just polite conversation. like he means it.
“you should,” you reply lightly. and then you leave it at that. because anything more would be…too much.
and you’re not desperate. you go back to your seat, pick up your drink, pretend like your heart isn’t beating just a little faster than before.
across the room, someone leans in immediately.
weeks pass. and at first, you don’t think much of it.
people in this building are busy. they disappear, reappear, live entire lives behind closed doors without anyone really noticing.
you tell yourself he’s just one of them. but then-
you start noticing things.
you don’t mean to, really. it just happens. late at night when you’re working sketches spread out, laptop glowing, your entire apartment half-lit you’ll glance toward the floor-to-ceiling windows and catch it.
the faint glow from the unit below yours.
sometimes it’s on at 2am.
sometimes it isn’t there at all for days.
sometimes it flickers on and off like he just stepped in, dropped his keys somewhere, and left again without settling.
low, almost nonexistent, but it’s there something soft, rhythmic, slipping through the floor just enough to catch your attention.
you freeze mid-pencil stroke, listening.
it lasts maybe three minutes.
you sit there for a while after that, staring at nothing.
“…okay,” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head and going back to work.
you have actual things to focus on.
your apartment slowly starts to look less like a showroom and more like a space that belongs to you fabric samples pinned to boards, new furniture pieces swapped in and out, color palettes shifting depending on your mood.
one night, around 1am, you’re rearranging your living room again.
because the layout still isn’t right. you step back, arms crossed, staring at the sofa like it personally offended you.
“no,” you decide. “this is ugly.”
you drag it a few inches to the left. pause.
a quiet laugh slips out of you. you’re so focused you don’t even notice the faint sound below. movement.
like something being set down. you freeze. just for a second. then shake it off.
coincidence. it has to be.
a few days later, you run into mr. eom again.
“your neighbor was in yesterday,” he mentions casually, like he’s commenting on the weather. you look up immediately. “…was he?”
you hum, pretending like that doesn’t bother you more than it should.
“figures.” you almost ask more. almost. but you don’t. because what are you going to say?
hey, has the hot guy downstairs mentioned me?
another week. still nothing.
it’s starting to feel a little ridiculous now.
you’ve had one conversation. one. and somehow that’s enough to make everything feel…unfinished. like you started something and then just- left it hanging.
you catch yourself thinking about it more than you should. about the way he looked at you. the way he said anything? like it meant something else. the way he remembered.
you groan softly, dropping your head back against your couch.
“this is so annoying,” you mumble.
because it’s not even like you like him. you don’t know him. he’s just there. and hot. and slightly intriguing.
and apparently impossible to run into again.
you’re stretched out on your couch, one leg hanging off the edge, laptop balanced precariously against your thigh. your apartment is quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside. you should be sleeping. you’re not. instead, you’re half-scrolling, half-thinking, not really focused on anything.
you blink. the sound cuts clean through the silence. you sit up slowly. that was- your doorbell. you frown, glancing toward the entrance. no one texts. no call. nothing. you don’t order this late. ou don’t know anyone who would just show up unannounced. it rings again.
once. not impatient. just…certain.
a strange feeling settles in your chest. you don’t rush. you close your laptop, set it aside, push yourself up from the couch with slow, quiet steps. the floor is cool under your feet as you walk over. for a second, you hesitate. then you reach for the handle and pull the door open. and—
it’s him. standing there like this is normal. like showing up at your door weeks later after one conversation, after saying i might take you up on that is completely reasonable.
your grip tightens slightly on the door. “…hi,” you say.
he looks a little different. tired, maybe. like he hasn’t slept enough. but his eyes are the same. steady. observant. and just a little amused.
“hi.” a pause settles between you.
not awkward. just…full. his gaze drifts past you, into your apartment. slowly. taking in everything the layout, the lighting, the details you’ve been obsessing over for weeks. you don’t miss it.
“…what?” you ask lightly. his eyes flick back to yours. “you did all this?” there’s something in his tone. not casual. curious.
you lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. “yeah. interior design student. i get bored easily.” he hums softly, like that explains everything. and maybe it does. another pause. then-
“you said,” he starts, voice low, measured, “if i ever needed anything…”
your breath catches just slightly. because he remembers. you tilt your head. “…i did.”
his mouth curves, just enough to notice. “so,” he says, almost too casually, “does that include a house tour?”
you blink at him. once. slowly.
“…a house tour?” you repeat, like you’re making sure you heard that right. out of everything he could’ve said. everything he could’ve asked for. that’s what he went with?
your brows pull together just slightly, confusion written all over your face and you don’t even try to hide it. he notices. of course he does.
there’s that same faint amusement in his eyes again, like he expected this reaction. “yeah,” he says simply.
you stare at him for another second. “…why?” it comes out more direct than you intended, but honestly you’re past pretending.
he exhales a quiet breath through his nose, glancing past you again, slower this time. more deliberate. “i heard you’re an interior design student.”
you narrow your eyes a little. “…from who?”
“people talk.” that’s not an answer. but it’s enough.
you shift your weight against the doorframe, still studying him, trying to figure out if he’s being serious right now.
“so,” you say slowly, “you showed up at my door…at-” you glance back briefly at the clock on your wall, “-this time…for design advice.”
his gaze flicks to the clock, then back to you. “timing wasn’t ideal.”
you let out a short laugh. “that’s one way to put it.”
a pause. and then- he shrugs. actually shrugs. like this is the most normal thing in the world. “my place is empty,” he adds, tone easy. “i don’t really have time to think about it.”
you tilt your head. “…but you have time to come up here.” that lands. you see it. just a flicker- but it’s there. and then “i said i might take you up on it.” he just says oh. so that’s the angle. you press your lips together, trying not to smile. because this is so
“right,” you murmur. “the neighborly offer.”
“mhm.” he doesn’t look away. doesn’t backtrack. if anything, he leans into it. and there’s something about thatabout the quiet confidence of it that makes your suspicion even worse.
you push off the doorframe, stepping back slightly, but you don’t move aside yet. “you know,” you say, crossing your arms again, “you could’ve just said you were curious.”
his brows lift a fraction. “i did.”
you give him a look. “…no, you didn’t.”
a beat. and then- anton smiles. not big. not obvious. just enough to shift something in his face.
“i’m curious,” he corrects. there it is. finally.
you huff a soft laugh, shaking your head. “that’s better.”
another second passes. you glance at him once more- at the way he’s standing there, completely at ease, like he didn’t just show up unannounced after weeks of nothing. like this isn’t a little insane.
“…and your apartment is that empty?” you ask.
this time, he actually lets out a quiet laugh. low. brief. “yeah.”
you nod slowly, like you’re considering it seriously. even though you already know you’re going to let him in. because, honestly? you want to. you step back fully this time, finally opening the door wider.
“fine,” you say, tilting your head toward the inside. “but if i walk into your place later and it’s not as bad as you’re making it sound, i’m charging you.”
he steps forward, pausing just as he crosses the threshold. close now. closer than before. “charging me?” he repeats.
you glance back at him over your shoulder as you start walking in. “consultation fee.”
a small pause behind you.
“we’ll see if it’s worth it.”
you stop. turn slightly. raise a brow. “…oh, it’s worth it.”
he holds your gaze for a second. and there it is again that quiet, teasing edge. “i’m counting on that.”
you lead him through your apartment slowly. not rushed. not overly detailed either just enough.
you point things out here and there, explaining choices without overexplaining. textures, lighting, the way the space opens up depending on where you stand. he listens. actually listens. not in that polite, nod-along way people usually do but like he’s paying attention to you more than the furniture.
you catch it a few times. the way his gaze lingers not on the sofa, not on the shelves on you.
“you changed this recently,” he says at one point, nodding toward your living area.
you pause. “…yeah.” you narrow your eyes slightly. “how do you know that?”
he shrugs, casual. “felt new.” you stare at him for a second. “…that’s not a real answer.”
“it is,” he replies easily. you huff a quiet laugh, shaking your head as you move past him.
“you let me in.” you glance back over your shoulder. “…don’t get used to it.”
by the time you circle back toward the entrance, the air feels…different. nothing’s happened. not really. but something has shifted.
the kind of shift you can’t quite name, only feel. he stops near the door, glancing around one last time. “it’s nice,” he says. simple. but it doesn’t sound empty.
you lean lightly against the wall, watching him. “yeah, i know.” his gaze flicks back to yours at that. there’s a second quiet, stretched. and then he reaches for the handle.
like he’s going to leave. and that doesn’t sit right with you. not after all this. not after weeks of nothing, and then this.
you push off the wall before you can think too much about it. “wait.” he pauses. turns slightly.
you cross your arms, tilting your head like this is casual, like you didn’t just stop him on instinct.
his brows lift a fraction. “i got the tour.”
“that’s it?” you hold his gaze. steady.
there’s a small pause. then, “…you don’t seem satisfied with that,” he says.
you don’t answer right away. instead, you walk a little closer, stopping just within his space not too close, but enough.
“i don’t know when i’ll see you again,” you say lightly. “you’re barely here.” that lands.
you can tell. his expression shifts subtle, but there.
“i’m here now,” he replies. quiet.
you nod once, like that proves your point.
then, more casually “stay for a drink.”
you gesture vaguely toward the kitchen, like it’s no big deal. like your heart didn’t just pick up a little.
“unless you’re in a rush to disappear again.” there’s a hint of challenge in that. you mean for there to be.
he watches you for a second. really watches you. like he’s weighing something. he asks “what kind of drink?”
you don’t hide your smile this time. you turn, already walking away. “depends,” you toss over your shoulder. “how long are you planning to stay?”
there’s a pause behind you. just long enough to notice. and then you hear it the quiet sound of the door clicking shut.
you don’t look back right away. you just walk into the kitchen like you didn’t just bait him into staying.
like this is normal. like your pulse isn’t doing something noticeably different.
you reach for the cabinet, pulling out two glasses without asking. behind you, you hear him move. not rushed. not hesitant either. just…there.
you set the glasses down, turning slightly to glance at him over your shoulder. “so? what are you having.”
he leans lightly against the counter, close enough now that the space feels smaller than it actually is.
“what do you usually drink?”
you hum, considering, reaching for a bottle “depends on the night.”
you pour slowly, the soft clink of glass filling the quiet. “…still deciding.”
you hand him one, your fingers brushing his for half a second longer than necessary.
neither of you comment on it. but it doesn’t go unnoticed.
he takes a sip, eyes still on you over the rim. “so this is what you do when you’re bored?” he asks. “invite neighbors in?”
you lean back against the counter, mirroring his earlier posture. “only the interesting ones.”
his brows lift slightly. “and i made the cut?”
you tilt your head, taking a slow sip. “barely.”
there’s that look again. the one that says he doesn’t fully believe you. or maybe that he knows you don’t fully mean it.
“you’ve been paying attention,” he says after a second. it’s not a question.
you glance at him. “…what makes you say that?”
“you knew i wasn’t around.”
you shrug lightly. “hard not to notice when someone lives right under you and then just…doesn’t.”
he studies you for a moment. quiet. measured “you were listening for me?”
you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “dontflatter yourself.”
but you don’t deny it. and he catches that.
the conversation drifts. easier than you expected.
it’s not forced, not overly careful you don’t tiptoe around him, and he doesn’t treat you like something delicate.
if anything, he pushes. just a little. small comments, teasing in a way that’s quiet but deliberate.
you give it back just as easily. time slips. your glasses are half-empty now, sitting somewhere behind you, forgotten.
at some point, you move from the kitchen to the living area without really deciding to. he follows. again like it’s natural.
you end up near the sofa. not sitting. just…there.
facing each other, closer than before. the conversation slows. not awkward. just heavier.
like it’s shifting into something else. you notice it in the pauses. in the way neither of you rushes to fill them anymore.
his gaze drops briefly to your hands, your lips, then back up again.
subtle. but not subtle enough. “you’re staring,” you say quietly.
you let out a soft breath through your nose.
l“…you’re not very subtle.”
that does something. you shift your weight slightly, but you don’t step back. if anything, you stay right where you are.
“you’re different from what they said,” you murmur.
his head tilts a fraction. “who’s they?”
“people downstairs,” you say. “at the party.”
a faint smile touches his lips. “and what did they say?”
“that you’re quiet,” you reply. you hold his gaze.
“…shy.” a beat. then, softer “i don’t think that’s true.”
he watches you for a second. and then he steps closer. just one step. but it’s enough. “no?” he says. low.
you don’t move. your breath catches just slightly but you don’t break eye contact.
“no,” you repeat. another pause. closer now. too close to pretend this is casual.
you can feel it the shift, the weight of it, the way the air changes when neither of you looks away.
“then what do you think?” he asks.
your voice comes out quieter than before. “…i think you know exactly what you’re doing.”
his gaze flickers something sharper this time. “and you don’t?”
you swallow. just once. because that’s not fair.
you let out a small huff, almost a laugh. “…i didn’t invite you in for nothing.” that lands. fully.
he goes still for half a second. and then his head dips slightly, like he’s considering that, like he’s deciding what to do with it.
when he looks back at you, there’s no teasing in it now. just something steady. intentional.“yeah,” he says quietly. a pause. then, softer “i figured.”
you don’t realize how close you are until you shift and there’s barely any space left.
your hand brushes his arm.this time, neither of you ignores it. the room feels quieter than before. like everything else dropped away without you noticing.
his gaze flicks to your lips again. slower this time. and stays there a second too long.
you don’t look away. don’t step back.don’t break it. and that that’s the moment.
right before something actually happens. god you are really about to fuck your hot neighbor who you barely know anything about.
your hands find themselves resting on his arm before you even notice. your faces are close like dangerously close. you swear you can see every petal of his eyelashes, everything mark on his annoyingly perfect face.
the silence is broken when anton whispers, “can I kiss you?” his eyes never leaving you.
“yes please.” you say, your tone eager than ever.
within milliseconds you feel his plump lips on yours. it doesn’t take you much to melt into the kiss. wrapping your arms around his neck as his wrap around your waist.
“anto-“ you try to say, trying to catch your breath. but he doesn’t listen he just pulls up back in the kiss like his life depends on the
his hands start roaming your body as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth. soon enough your fingers are playing with his hair as your tongue fights his.
you feel his hands sleep under your tiny silk nightgown, his hands are cold to the touch. but it feels so good.
you slowly pull back from the kiss. “anton let’s go upstairs” you say as you slowly regain a normal breathing pattern.
“mhm okay baby let’s go” he says and he picks you up in bridal style. walking up the glass stairs
he kicks your bedroom door open with his leg and he gently throws you on to the bed. god even his gentle is strong and you the mattress being pressed down at the force.
he quickly hovers over for you, placing a quick kiss on your lips. before pulling back to look at you.
you are spread across the bed, nightgown lifted just enough to see your lace panties, thin straps sliding down your shoulders, cheeks flushed. it’s truly a beautiful sight to see.
“i wish i could frame this on my wall, it’s better than any painting ever” he says. his gaze still on you. hungrier. more desperate.
anton’s words send vibrations down to your pussy. it’s not even that he said something sexual it’s his voice the calm voice when he looks like feral. you cant’t take it anymore, you wrap you legs around his torso, and pull him down. you needed him.
“yeah baby? that impatient for me?” it sounds so cocky but he’s so right.
his fingers travel down to hem of your night dress, pulling it up. he throws it somewhere in the room. his eyes are fixated on your boobs. you’ve got no bra on either it’s because it’s night time or you were hoping for this.
“fuck look at these” he said as he grabbed your boobs. “ah-ah” you let out a moan, his touch feels so good.
he starts moving his hands massaging them, being gentle as possible. you moan uncontrollably, but you reach for his hands.
he stops immediately, “what happened baby did i do something wrong?” he asks. you shake you head in response, “i just- i just want you to be a little more rough, like squeeze them, pinch my nipples.” you respond to him.
this seems to amuse him because that’s exactly what he said. now his tongue is flicking against your nipple as he stimulates the other with his index and middle fingers. you feel like might just cum from this.
you start whining when he pulls away to take of his shirt. but your whining stops when you see his beautiful abs and his v line. your hands find themselves going up and down his chest.
which only lasts so long before you feel his fingers rubbing against your clothed panties. “anton” you moan his name. he can feel your heat.
he quickly pulls your panties down, throwing them aside like the rest of the garments discarded. he starts rubbing slow circles on your clit. you can’t help but pull him down into to kiss him. you almost bite his lip so hard when you feel his thick fingers stretching your pussy open.
“it’s so fucking tight princess how are you gonna take my cock if you can’t take my fingers” he asks.
but he is able to push them inside. “fuck- oh fuck” you moan against his lips and his fingers work magic on you. he fastens his speed when he feels you clenching. your hips lifting the the sudden rise of speed. you are moaning mess as you cum on his thick, long fingers.
anton slowly pulls his fingers out. he maintains eye contact as he licks his fingers clean. “you taste so sweet baby.”
“… i need taste you baby”
he quickly changes the position so now you are on top of him. he positions your pussy on his face. making you sit on his face. your hands grip the headboard. “do you want me to ride you face?” you ask him
a muffled yes comes from him. you’ve never done this but it’s fair to say ever since you’ve caught a glimpse of anton’s beautiful nose it’s all you’ve wanted to do.
you start moving your hips. he’s lapping on your juices like a mad man. this the best you’ve ever felt. what a way to get eaten out. his hands move from your ass to your hips, encouraging you to go faster. you do as you as you chase your high. you cum very soon.
it takes you a few seconds to settle before you move and place your self on his lap. the lower portion of his face glistening from your wetness. he looks so beautiful. he licks his lips clean.
before he could process it, you were already cupping his clothed dick. to say it’s hard is an understatement. you press your face against it when he slowly grips your hair.
his hips jerk up. “you want it baby?” he asks. you quickly nod.
your hands already working to take his pants off. he takes of his pants and boxers of with one go. his rock hair rock sprung. the tip leaking, it’s so big. a dick shouldn’t be this beautiful, but it’s anton so.
you wrap your mouth around his cock. licking tip. your throat feels so full. you are already gagging on his cock, as he pushing your head slightly. he can feel that’s he’s close.
he’s whimpering. in the low soft tone. fuck he sounds so good.
you heads going up down up down on him. you feel his close and you are right. “bab-baby-i’m close.” his thick cum spilling into your mouth. you swallow as much as you can. “yeah baby, good girl.”
he pulls away from your mouth. “i’m gonna paint these beautiful tits.” jacking the rest of on your tits.
you sitting on your knees, face covered in his cum, the white liquid on tits. pussy bare and aching. nipples as hard as rock. this might the best view anton has ever witnessed.
he slowly lifts his big hands and places them on your waist to lay you down on your back. your big doe eye looking at him.
he guides his dick towards your entrance. teasing the clit at first. “mhm-mhm- please don’t- don’t tease.” you say
he can’t help but smirk at. “really?, but I want to.”
you start whining as much as you can. and then-
“… if you want my cock so bad, beg for it.”
and you do. there is no time for pride now. you need his cock inside you. “please anton, please baby, please put your it inside me… i need it.. i need you.” you beg. your hips jerking up in desperation.
while you still looking at him begging for it, without any warning he puts the tip inside you. you let out a little scream at that.
the smirk of his face getting bigger. “it’s just the tip baby”
he slowly pushes the whole thing inside your tightness. the struggle was worth how warm you are. anton felt like he can cum just by being inside you.
he slowly starts moving inside. you moans getting louder. your grip on his shoulders tightened, it sure will leave a mark.
he kisses down neck as he starts moving rapidly inside your puffy pussy now. his pace is faster. you can’t think of anything but him. repeating his name over and over again.
“are you close baby?” he asks but you can’t even respond. feeling that you are close he fastens up his pace even more. you feel him deep inside you. the bed creaking.
he looks at your face. eyes rolled back. hair messy. tear rolling down your eyes. mouth open, screaming his name. “…. poor baby. you’re so fucked out that you can’t even answer me.”
but the way you clench around his cock, brings him to his climax too. soon enough he feels you cum around his cock. that doesn’t stop him ramming inside you.
“where do you want me to cum princess?” he asks , feeling himself about cum at any given moment.
although you still can’t process a thought, you respond to him. “inside… cum inside me… i want it -want it inside.” still crying against his shoulder.
his hand moves from your waist to you face. tilting it to press a kiss your lips as he comes inside you. he lets out a moan against your lips.
he lets you calm down for maybe 2 minutes before he pulls you on top of him.
placing you perfectly on his cock. he reaches to your cum filled pussy. he collects the mixture of his and your cum from your entrance.
lifting his fingers from down there. he forces his fingers past your lips. “suck on it while you ride on my dick.”
you quickly accept his finger. at the same time you take his dick inside you. you shift so you are comfortable. he isn’t helping you at all this time. all cocky with one arm behind his head and another ready with fingers for you to suck.
you start slowly bouncing up on his cock. trying to suck his fingers at the same time.
“look at me don’t you dare break eye contact.” he commands you.
you try your best to fuck yourself on his cock while sucking on his massive digits. you are a crying mess. taking your hand and reaching to touch your clit.
soon you feel him pull away his fingers from your mouth and place that hand on your hips. he other hand reaches from the back to rest on your hips too. your hands reach to his shoulders for support.
he starts pushing his hips up. faster. him pushing it up while you try your best to keep up and bounce on his cock.
“t-t-ton please i am so fucking close i can’t anymore” you say. your moans never stopping
he lets a groan and responds to you. “just a little longer i wanna cum at same time.”
he’s close too. you are both going so fast. the room is filled with sounds of skin slapping.
without a warning you cum on his cock again. and within seconds his thick cum is filling up your inside. his hips jerk up, to fill you to the brim.
you collapse on his chest. his cock still inside you. both catching your breath.
he notices the mirror propped up against the on the left side of your bed.
he looks down at you. pushing the hair sticking to your forehead away.
“can we go for another round?” he proposes. “… do you think you can take it my love?” he adds.
you quickly nod your head. “yes-yes i can anton… i’ll try my best i promise”
your response brings a smile to his face. “mhm good girl” he says
anton helps you get on all fours facing. your face facing the mirror. he comes up behind you.
you can’t help but shy away. but he his hands force you to forward. “look at me while i fuck you.” he says
he enters your pussy from the back. he the grip on your waist getting tighter. as he lets out a loud groan. “fucked you three times right now and you are still tight.”
you reach for his arm when you feel the whole thing inside you. he doesn’t give you any time this time.
his cock is ramming inside you at an insane speed. you reach for his arm again for support. he holds your hand as he rearranges your insides.
his free hand places a large slap against your ass. you moan in pleasure. he lets a tasty moan when sees your ass rippling like an avalanche. he places a few more slaps on your ass. making sure it stains red.
he moves away from your ass down to your tits. his chest pressed completely against your back. you look in the mirror. he’s so much bigger than you.
he presses your nipples against two of his fingers. he speeds up the movement inside you. going as fast as possible. you are both moaning messes.
you look at yourself. you are crying like a bitch now.
“t-ton ton fuck ton i’m cumming!” you scream and you cream yourself on cock for the third time in the same night.
“me too baby me too” he says. with his last few thrusts inside you. his hands come up to rest on your hips again.
his cum filling you up. stuffed to the brim. he places a kiss on your shoulder. maintain eye contact through the mirror.
you both collapse on your bed. your face against his chest. leaking his cum down your thighs.
when his breath settles, he goes to your bathroom. he brings back a towel. he cleans your down your liquid from down there.
when you are stable enough to look. “that’s my hermès towel you are using to wipe off cum.” you say to him.
that earns a laugh from him. “i’m sure you can afford more. or i’ll replace it no problem.”
you look at his face really look at it. he’s so beautiful. you pull him into you to kiss him.
“i don’t want this to be a one time thing.” you say
he agrees. “me neither…seems i’ll be home more often.” placing another on your lips.
he leans down to hug your chest. “round four in the shower?” he asks you.
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ayyyy if you had reached to the end thank you so much for reading i appreciate it. this not the best written but i tried. i promise ill be better next timeee.
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