see that’s funny cause

you end up destroying him, and that's how he ends up face down, ass up in your bed, your lubed up fingers stretching his tight little asshole open. he's already whining into the sheets, whimpering your name as his needy cock twitches and throbs.

you've already agreed that whatever happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom—that's how it's always been between the two of you. that's why he has absolutely no shame as he moans your name; as he begs you to move on from your fingers and use that cute little purple strap-on.

"so greedy," you tease him, your voice lilting in his ear. you scissor your fingers and he gasps your name, fisting the sheets.

"please," he begs. "you're fucking around, just give it to me."

"what's it gonna take to get you like this all the time?" you grin, slowly withdrawing your fingers. he whimpers at the loss, but you don't leave him like that for long.

you take your time lubing the toy up, making sure he's ready for you. then, you slide it in, breaching the tight ring of muscle once more. it swallows the toy, drinks it in easily. there's a beat, a moment of his body short-circuiting at the feeling before he lets out a groan that could shake the walls.

his eyes flutter shut, his voice coming back to him. "so fucking big," he whines, pressing his ass closer to you. you work your hips with long, steady strokes at first, careful, just letting him feel the push and pull of it. he's far gone now, moaning so loudly and openly.

you listen to him beg and whine for a few more minutes before you adjust the angle of your hips, and he practically screams at the sudden jolt of pleasure.

"holy shit, oh my god, holy shit—" he sputters, arching toward you. you think you notice a tear drip from his eye, but you don't say anything about it.

"you're taking me so well," you praise him, running a hand along the tense, flexed muscles of his back. "is that the spot? feels good?"

"god, ngh—yes, more—"

you listen, thrusting into him for a few moments more before white-hot ropes of pleasure are spurting out of him, soaking his stomach and his thighs and your sheets. you don't stop immediately, opting instead to draw his pleasure out for as long as you can, to milk those beautiful moans falling from his pink lips. his eyes are screwed shut and there's a slight chance that his grip has torn a hole in the sheets. you couldn't care less. he's never looked sexier.

once you've withdrawn yourself, you give him a few moments to catch his breath while you clean up. "you okay?" you ask him softly, bringing over a glass of water. sweat has his gorgeous hair plastered to his forehead. he's since rolled over, looking up at the ceiling before he turns his head to you.

"so okay," he replies, a relaxed grin on his face. he's still trying to catch his breath, a little. "so fucking okay. better than."

you grin at him, brushing your fingers through his hair. "you let me win, didn't you? you wanted this. you know you could've just asked, right?"

he snorts. "whether or not i let you win is privileged information, counselor. and on asking... i'll keep that in mind for next time."

he reaches for your hand, pulling you into him. neither of you pay any mind to the mess—it's obvious you aren't done for the night, anyway.