you poor thing sweet, mourning lamb

[♱] - smut [𖦹] - fluff

Remmick | Sinners

one-shot

𖦹 No Grave Can Hold My Body Down (I’ll Crawl Home To Her)

multi parts

♱ Honey Don’t Feed Me (I Will Come Back) part i

drabbles

Lamb To The Slaughter

Lion Kaminski | Jungleland

one-shot

♱ Do You Think Of Me Too?

Paddy Mayne | SAS Rogue Heros

one-shot

♱ If It Feels Good, Then It Can’t Be Bad

One year, 365 days, an entire trip around the sun; that's how long you'd been sleeping with a married man. You couldn't have made it any easier on yourself by picking your run of the mill, hates his wife and hits on you at the bar while waving a 20 in his hand kind of married man. Why would you do that when instead you could have your very own Lieutenant Robert Blair Mayne wrapped around your manicured finger? A man who was your fathers best friend, who you'd see so frequently at family barbecues that there was always a seat saved for him, a man who your father sent in on more than one occasion to check for monsters behind the sparkly pink closet door of your childhood bedroom, the man who you were the flower girl at his own wedding under the excuse of "he didn't know any other kids".

Now you're taller, older, more glitz and glitter on a random Wednesday than more people would put on for prom. Your skin soft with the scent of vanilla and whatever designer fragrance you batted your lashes at Paddy for this month. All you needed to do was pout your glossed lips and anything you wanted was in your hands in a neatly wrapped box in a matter of moments.

Paddy had a very loose definition of marriage and surely sleeping with his former Captains daughter for the better half of a year wasn't included in those vows filled with half truths he performed with faux passion at the altar. War made men mad and Paddy had been the maddest one of all. That was the explanation everyone would give themselves to explain away why a man such as himself tends to spoil the glossy-lipped brat of his old Captain, who was half his age while he has a perfectly age appropriate wife waiting in a cold bed at home.

She had done nothing for him, even when he met her at that bar his former men had dragged him to all those nights ago. Paddy Mayne wasn't a man to be anchored down by anything, he knew what everyone expected. Come home a war hero, settle down with a pretty woman on his arm, have one son to carry on his name, one daughter to give away as she walks down the aisle, and die with them at his bedside. It's what was traditional, encouraged even, but the he was never one for tradition in the first place.

A year later and you're back home on spring break and coincidentally, your mother and father had left the house to you while they're on vacation. Your father always tended to treat you as if you were still a child, telling you not to have anyone over while they were gone, not even your friends from school, and you could go have the neighbors cook you dinner if you need help working the stove. The same neighbor whose sons been trying to get a peek at you changing through your window since primary school. A fact that had you rolling your eyes and stomp over to the windows to tug the curtains shut, cutting off the boys unfruitful attempt at the peep show he so desperately desired.

In all his feeble attempts of discipline, he had failed to forbid the one thing you were dead set on doing, the actual thing that would get you in trouble if caught. Inviting his friend over.

That was part of the reason you liked fucking a man twice your age. It made you feel like a woman, not some girl who still needed babysitting that your father is convinced you still are. Crouching down, you fish out the box that stored your dirtiest secrets, concealed by the frilly bed skirt that had yet to be changed into something that was"more suited" to the young adult you actually were. Tracing your fingers across the boxes edges, your heart involuntarily skips a beat as you open it, lifting out the latest letter Paddy had written you with the delicacy of something worth far more than just a sheet of paper.

Sitting on the bed, you find yourself smiling as you reread the words,the handwriting surprisingly soft and flowy for a man who knows the brutality of war so intimately, and no one knew that intimacy more than Paddy. It was far more suited for a man of words, a poet. You studied the words of this letter far harder than you had any of your textbooks this semester, almost as if you were trying to commit them to memory. Involuntary, you couldn't help but rub your thumb over the ending, your favorite part.

Love, Paddy

Love, you were sure that's what this was. The need to have him buried deep inside of you, how frequently you've caught yourself daydreaming about those rough hands, the hands that have taken lives, gripped around your jaw as he forced his fingers in your mouth. All while you were supposed to be doing your algebra homework.

You tuck the letter back into the box for safe keeping, placing a chaste kiss over his name before folding the paper back up neatly. Your lips were only meant for him, no matter the form he took whether that was in the flesh or through written word.

You wanted to do something sweet for him, it was your anniversary after all. He took care of you like a well kept secret, holding you close to his heart as he fueled your infatuation with hushed whispers and wistful promises. Swearing to take you away from everything, this town, your father, anything you wanted would be yours as his strokes hit deep in your core. Even the mere thought of that now had you crossing your legs to ease the gentle ache.

Striding into the kitchen, you can't help but wonder how your secret lover would treat you if you really were his wife, his lovely little bride getting to play house for a man more than double her age. Would he come up behind you, pressing your stomach into the counter as he growled that you really shouldn't be swinging your hips like that in those sweet little peignoir sets he'd frequently swipe his credit card to buy without even looking. All he ever needed was a shy pout and batted eyelashes, and he'd get to rip them off of you anyway. It really was a win win situation for the Paddy in your daydreams.

You find the house phone in its lone spot in the corner of the kitchen, beckoning you closer with your own mischievous thoughts, something you should've known better than to listen to. Hopping up on the chilled laminate, the receiver gets comfortable in between its nestled spot in between your ear and shoulder, punching in the number you shouldn't have known by heart with one neatly manicured finger.

The sharp ringing that greeted you caused your heart to swell, a mix of anxiousness and excitement had you feeling like a school girl, giddy with the newfound infatuation of her first schoolyard crush. Except this was something different, something darker that settled deeper into your core that was impossible to rid yourself of, no matter how many boys at your college you pretended to engage in their lust. It wasn't their fault really, no one could drill his hips into you like a man with so much to loose. Your heart pounded in your throat as the receiver picked up on the other end.

"Mayne Residence" That thick, accented voice shouldn't have worked you up as much as it did.

The same voice that barked orders at terrified men could also promise you anything you wanted. But here, it sounded bored, annoyed, tied down to the domestic dream that wasn't his.

You cradled the phone in your palm as you smile, trying not to let your smile show through your voice.

"Hello, is this Mr.Paddy Mayne?" stifling a giggle, you try your hardest to seem serious.

He knew immediately who was on the other end, hearing a sigh come through the phone, the one he'd let out before rolling his eyes at you and your antics.

"This is he, an' who is this?" That smirk is playing on his lips, a coy smile lined with mischief, a mischief that should've been long abandoned for a man his age.

"Oh you know~" you toyed with your answer, swinging your legs as you absentmindedly played with the hem of your dress, picking at loose threads that weren't there.

Your father would scold you if he were here for not only sitting on the counter, but wearing a dress so short. It was clearly improper for you to be wearing as a young, polite woman like yourself. Too bad he didn't know one of his closest friends picked it out himself, then proceeded to go down on you in his car to show just how much he liked how it rode up your thighs.

"…is your wife around Mr.Mayne? I'd hate to keep you preoccupied with little ol' me" your tone suddenly hushed in mock secrecy.

"No ma'am, she's off a' her sisters this week" its clear that he can hear the excitement brimming at the cusp of your voice as the cord twirls in your pointer finger like it's the only thing keeping you on this earth.

"so.. do you think she'd mind if her husband kept a pretty young thing company while shes alone in a big empty house right? maybe just for a night.. " theres a pause, feigning contemplation.

"maybe just for a night, what if something happens and I don't have a strong man to defend me?"

There's a chuckle echoing through the receiver, an amused laugh of a man entertaining something that should be beneath him.

"Do you really think I wouldn't remember what today is lamb?" There's an eyebrow raise clear in his tone. You're embarrassed to admit the gruffness in his voice makes you wetter than you'd like. The nickname..his faux mocking question, it makes you fiddle with the necklace sat between your breasts that he gave you for your first communion all those years ago, trying to think of anything else but his hand in your panties.

How could he forget? Not when you squealed so sweetly while you bled a creamy ring on his cock, blubbering and sniffling about how he was far too big to fit all the way, that it hurts, way more than you ever thought loosing your virginity would. Not when that was the beginning of what was now a years long relationship consisting of chalked up purchases and fake nights out at the bar rehashing the same old war stories, all to spend the night easing orgasm after orgasm out of your sweet cunt.

You took too long to answer, too caught up in the cloud of what those war torn fingers felt curled inside of you and you knew it. The only thing snapping you out of the hazy daydream the man was solely responsible for was a gruff chuckle, one that curled in your ears and chills down your spine. He sensed the effect he had on you, even through the phone.

"So then.. what time would you like me over love?" He questions in a new voice, one that edged on mischievously playful. A lilt in his tone what wasn't usually there.

You're finally snapped out of it, realizing that there was a question, an important question that had to be answered. Stammering yourself back to the present, a giggle forces itself out of your chest, running your hands down your skirt as you smooth imaginary wrinkles.

"A..ah um" An airy giggle rings into the receiver, a mix of fear hits you when he asks a question you honestly should have been expecting, why wouldn't he be asking what time to come over?

"Is uh.. is 6 okay?" your voice lightens at the end of your sentence, trying not to convey that on the other end of his telephone you've managed to knot the cord into a rats nest with all of the twirling in your panicked daydreams.

"Ah ah, you're stammering an' you know I don' like a stammer" He says in a way far too stern for what should have reasonably made you this wet. It gave you that glimpse you craved, that you yearned for, what all that military discipline taught him and what that meant for you.

"An' if I recall… I asked you correct? So tell me, when should the lady o' the house be expectin' me 'round?" There's a grin, you're sure of it. Your poet of a soldier carefully dictating his words and according actions as if he were playing chess.

There's a wobbly breath in, a feeble attempt to compose yourself while your clit throbbed to the rhythm of your heart.

"6 it is then." You say with false bravado and you could practically see his self satisfied crooked smile.

"Good girl, tha' wasn't so hard." He teases, thinking of all the things that will wait for you upon his arrival.

"See you soon lamb "

"I'll see you then sir~" the teasing coo hums from your lips as you hear the call disconnect on the other end. Your breath you weren't even aware that you had been holding escapes in an almost pleasant burn through your lungs. There was so much to do before 6.

You rocked on your heels as you gazed into the warm glow of the bakery's display case, seemingly filled with endless sugary goodness. If you had all the money in the world, you probably would spend it all here. Your eyes go over each treat, scanning as you try to think about what Paddy would like, what he'd praise you for choosing because you knew him so well.

You thanked god every step you that took that lead you to the bakery that your father wasn't here with you. He would've had a fit if he saw you walk into town unaccompanied without a man present and without a coat or shawl. You could practically hear his scolding, demanding to know where your shame was, how a woman shouldn't go anywhere alone, much less in just a dress. Too bad you were your own woman now, if only just for a week or two before their return.

"What're ye lookin' for love? Anythin' in particular I can help ya' with?" A woman asks in a pleasant tone, seeming to pop into existence out of thin air and snapping you out of your sugar induced trance.

"O…oh!" You smile politely, the words falling out of your mouth in a surprised stumble

"Well um..well.." contemplating for a moment, you try to recall if you've ever seen this woman before. If she had a mouth, and if that mouth would tell your business to the town and in return, your family.

"I'm celebrating an anniversary and I was wondering what was popular..nothing too sweet, I don't think hes much for sweet" Your face can't help but flush at the thought of him, giggling a bit to cover the awkwardness in the conversation

"Oh honey an anniversary!!" she says excitedly. The woman, who you soon learn is named Eleanore, reaches over grabs your hands that were idly resting on the curved glass, squeezing and filling them with warmth.

"And such a pretty little thing like you! Let me look at ya'!" She is far too excited than she should be for a strangers anniversary, but you guess that's why she got into the business of creating things to be enjoyed on special occasions, because she gets to enjoy them with you.

You somewhat reluctantly obliged when she gestures for you to back up from the counter, even doing a small twirl so she can fully see you, soft features and all. That seems to delight her as she claps her hands in overwhelming joy.

She eagerly waves you back, all grins as she pats your cheek in the way a tender mother would.

"Oh hes a lucky man love! Lucky lucky man to have a sweet little thing like you. An' he must treat you right! He treats you right yes?" It's easy to tell that shes rambler, talking even when she isn't fully sure anyone was still listening. Even now, shes walking around behind the counter, looking in the lit cases almost like she's scoping out the exact perfect dessert with every little description of Paddy you provide.

Little does she know that the man you're describing, shouldn't be yours to have in the slightest. Every little daydream she's having on your behalf of baking your future wedding cake is so morally wrong that she'd probably kick you out of her shop and make you a town pariah, an outcast gossiped about during ladies bridge games.

You zone back into the conversation when she finally starts listing desserts she thinks would suit your mystery man with whatever strange divination she utilized to make decisions about people's taste she's never once met, or at least you hope never met. You begin twisting and twirling your necklace in a fidgety, overthinking nervousness.

"Well then, if your mans serious, stubborn to the point of pure stupidity, which trust me lovey when I say you're hard pressed to find a man who isn't, but hes got a deep sense of art an' poetry to him like you say he is, then I think he's fit for our strawberry shortcake. Not too sweet but delightful all the same!" She gestures a hand to a cake, simple and classic, decorated with whipped cream and full strawberries. There's no doubt he'd like it, all you're left to wonder is how in the hell she's right.

"An' we do offer two sizes! Do ye' have any little ones running 'bout? Or just the two of ye for now?" Her smile indents into her rosy cheeks, but the flush of them is nothing to the warmth that blooms across your face and down your neck only to settle deep in your belly at the mention of children. You're unsure whether to feel horror at the possibility or just the littlest amount of joy at the mistaken domesticity of your relationship. There's a bit of shame that creeps in and settles where it should be when you admit that you wouldn't be upset if there were.

"It's uh.. it's just us!! The small one'll do us just fine" A coy smile plays on your lips as you toy with the only thing that tied you to him.

"Oh that's alright! The little ones will surely come soon enough for you two!" Eleanore teases playfully, grabbing the smaller cake out with a delicate hand.

"Now let me pack this up nice for ya' "

And she does, she wraps the cake up with a box and bow, far prettier than you ever could have done. She even throws in a couple of cookies for you, free of charge.

"Those are for you now ye' hear me, don't let him have any of those. Plus, men like a woman with a little meat on her bones! You make sure you eat up!" She scolds with a pat to your arm, bundling up all your goods in a neat little bag that makes you look like the sweetest little house wife.

With a shy smile and repetitive, sincere, thanks, the bell above the door cues your exit as the woman waves you bye through the window. You'd surely have to stop in again, hopefully with a ring on your hand and a bump firmly seated in your belly.

You tried desperately not to spiral about every little detail displayed in front of your kitchen counter. On your way home you'd decided on picking up Paddy's favorite poitín, even batting your eyes extra hard when the clerk at the counter raised an eyebrow on why such a pretty little thing was buying such harsh liquor, better fit for a man of his age or even older and not the nice wine he was expecting when you walked through the door.

It was ten to six, the clock feeling far too quick and far too slow in the same beat. You tried to make everything nice, that you weren't some ungrateful little brat that everyone else thought you were, that instead you were a woman, grown and mature, capable of a nice evening. You even put on his favorite dress, one that he bought you himself, short and playful that ended just shy of your knees. He told you that night after in his bed he liked the easy access, not too much fabric to bunch up and get in the way of his ravenous mouth. Just at the top of your breasts laid the necklace Paddy had given you for your first communion. When you were just a girl, a lamb unknowing of the worlds cruelty or the deep, interwoven love that it was capable of.

The sudden knock on the door sent a sharp shiver down your spine, heart rate climbing to the point of hearing it thrum in your ears. With a deep breath and light giggle of giddy excitement, you smooth your hands over your skirt and grab the handle to open the awaiting threshold to the man waiting on the other side.

There he stood, broad shoulders, scruff on his face and gray ever so slightly creeping onto his temples, perfect. You're unable to keep back your smile as you feel like a kid on Christmas. He offers you a crooked one back.

"Well..are ye' lettin' me in lamb? Or do ye' jus' wanna keep me out here waitin'?" He cocks an teasing eyebrow at you, nodding to your hand still firmly planted on your side of the doorknob, blocking him off from entering.

It takes you a moment to realize what he means, and when it sinks in you feel face flush in a brief flash of embarrassment, smiling a half apologetic grin at him as you replace your grip on the handle with his wrist, coaxing him inside by moving every so slightly to the side.

"I wouldn't want to keep you waiting, that'd just be impolite of me" Your tone is ever so lightly teasing as he allows you to pull him in with a gentle hand, shutting the door behind him.

His hands immediately find your waist, holding you loosely at first before his hold becomes firmer, pressing you against him with a little squeak of surprise escaping you, hands pressing against his shirt clad chest.

"I see yer wearin' my favorite.." making a show of looking you up and down, you feel his fingers drift down to cup the fat of your ass, his palms heavy on your flesh as his lips move to capture yours in a hungry kiss. All masculine and greed like a man starved in a desert wasteland.

"Now.. why don't we work on takin' it off" His kisses pause only to lean into your ear to whisper, so close you could practically feel the words flowing from his mouth.

You can't help but let out a soft moan at his ministrations, feeling those heavy hands knead at the flesh, the chill of his wedding band offering a welcome contrast to the burning desire.

Reluctantly, you separate from him, lips glossy and swollen even from that brief, heated kiss. You give him a coy little smile as you pat the center of his chest, giving a sweet little laugh along with it.

"Later.." You whisper mischievously, a little more out of breath than you'd care to admit.

"I didn't plan a surprise for you for it to go to waste." Satiating him with a brief peck on the lips, you relish in the smell of his cologne and the welcomed pain the scrape of his freshly shave stubble provides.

You're immediately met with a raised eyebrow from the man in front of you, his hands not moving from their precarious position, still offering the occasional pinch and squeeze as you speak.

"A surprise ya' say?" He pretends to ponder your words, a glint in his eye with a motivation you couldn't quite place.

"Now, what would make my little lamb wanna do somethin' like that?" He mock ponders, looking you square in the eyes with a wry smile. He gently starts swaying you both side to side, making you giggle.

"You know.. its been one year since we.." You let your statement trail off, letting your gaze shift from his face, down to his hips, then back up again do all the talking that was needed.

"Just wanted to make it special," A playful pout marks your lips as you lay your head down on his shoulder, placing a few chaste kisses on his neck.

"Ah.. an anniversary?" he teases, one hand moving up to the small of your back, rubbing smooth little circles.

"I guess that's reason enough for a surprise isn't it?" You're half convinced he just likes hearing himself talk before he captures your lips in a brief, but passionate kiss.

"Well then, show me." A smile grazes his lips, now both calloused hands circling and massaging your hips.

"Let's see what my girls been workin' so hard to plan" You can't quite tell if hes teasing for your efforts, but you're not really sure you mind.

Rocking on your heels, you carefully remove Paddy's hands from their purchase on your ass, instead grabbing his hands to lead him into the kitchen. You pause for a moment to cover his eyes with your free hand.

"Make sure your eyes are closed. No peeking and I mean it!" You scold, playfully scowling as you feel the man's eyes roll beneath your palm.

As you lead him, you can't help but feel giddy as you draw him closer to his prize, what in your mind hes worked so hard to deserve .

"'m old dolly, much longer in the dark 'n I'll probably end up snorin' in your lap," He chuckles, feeling you stop just shy of the counter. Your fingers brush against the bridge of his nose daintily, tickling as your nails leave his flesh. Oh how you longed for that nose to be buried deep in your cunt. Soon.

You gasp playfully as when you remove your hands, you see that his eyes were actually closed.

"You actually listened!" Giggling, you press a quick kiss against his cheek .

"Good boy," teasing, you tuck the bottle behind your back, moving Paddy right in front of the cake, which read in dainty, twirly writing.

'Happy Anniversary'

"Ready…open!!" His vision takes a moment to focus, adjusting to the sudden onslaught of light.

First he sees you, the pretty thing he'd had his eye on, angelic and heavenly as you stand there all sweetness, flushed and soft. You've known nothing of hardship, of struggles or pain. Honestly, sleeping with him is the most rebellious thing you could have possibly done, and he doesn't think either of you would change any of it.

Then, his eyes drift onto the counter, finding immediately what you had surprised him with. A light cake decorated with whipped cream and tart strawberries. He goes back and forth between looking at the dessert and looking at you, your smile, your nervously flushed face and how your fingers always seem to find his necklace. In all honesty it just reminded him of how young you were. No adult, bored to tears from the relentless beat down of life is buying any man in their life, a boyfriend or a husband, a cake, especially one this delicate looking.

In some weird way, it reminded him of you, sweet, playful, light and loving all wrapped up in a delightful presentation. He sees a slight flash of worry cross your eyes as you gaze into him, still concealing something not so subtly behind your back.

"Oh.. aren't ye just the sweetest little lamb," he coos, you can tell theres sincerity behind the playfulness, drawing you closer into his warm grip.

"Did ya' pick this out yourself?" There's a distinct want to his words, it relaxes you as you allow him to brush your cheek with his thumb.

You nod sweetly, unable to bite back a proud grin any longer.

"Mhm.. Thought you'd like it."

"I do.. an' what's this behind your back?" He looks you up and down, surveying you as if he were taking inventory. His hands find their way back around your hips, creeping around to your back. Your heart thumps in your ears, beats sounding like gunfire rather than an organ in your chest as he closes in around you, looping his arms around until they meet hands, your hands gripping the neck of a bottle.

You allow him to encase your hands in his, bringing forward the bottle of Poitín, his favorite brand, strong and not the cheapest. He shifts his gaze to look down at it in your shared grip, a satisfied hum leaving his lips as he looks back up to be met with a sheepish little smile.

"It's uh..its your favorite right?" You asked, head now swirling that somehow you had gotten it wrong and fucked this all up.

"Aye, an' how'd you know that?" There's a grin on his face even as his words feel more teasing than anything, taking the bottle from your hands to set it gently on the table. His hands return to their place on your hips, walking you slowly backwards until your back is flush with the countertop. In what reality was a few feet felt like miles, eons even.

"I.." It takes a considerable amount of focus to try to conjure the words needed in your brain, no thanks to Paddy, who’s now placing slow, light kisses right at your jaw, no doubt leading to what you'd hoped for all day.

"I've seen you drink it.. y'know when you're in the study, with dad," the air is impossibly thick with tension, charged. It feels as if you're deep underwater with the only possible way to get oxygen back is through Paddy.

His hand that’s not firmly planted around your waist, keeping the edge of the counter digging into your back into a delicious sting, began to trail up. It settles snugly with his thumb notched under your jaw, the other fingers wrapping loosely around the back of your neck. The position has you straighten your stance in his grip, your hands braced on the counter as his warm kisses go closer towards your ear.

"Such a sweet girl, doin' all this for an old man like me," He whispers, his hips subtly beginning to grind into your core, now realizing he has you pinned in a way you couldn't possibly get out of. Not that you'd want to anyway.

It's only then you realize just how firm his cock was, stirring in his pants the entire time you showed just how much you liked playing house.

"Why don't I show ye' just how appreciative I really am, consider it yer own anniversary present?" A hear stirs in your belly, sparking into a low, steady burn. He feels you slowly nod your head, only to tsk in your ear. Drawing his head back, the hand on your waist journeys down to your ass, giving you a sweet little rub before a firm smack comes down causing you to squeal and whine at the sting.

"Now I know I've taught ye better than that, use yer words like a big girl." There's something in his eyes you can't quite place, something between hunger and ferocity. His voice is steady, matter of fact. It causes the heat to pool lower into your cunt.

You give him a little pout, causing him to give you a look, half surprised, amused even in response.

"Y'dont have to be so mean about it Paddy," A playful little glare going his way, causing him to pinch the flushed, hot skin in response. You wince with a further whine.

"'m not bein' mean, jus' know ye know better is all." He pats your cheek with his palm almost condescendingly, only to then grab your chin with this thumb and middle finger, causing your glossy lips to pout further

"Try again." The words are simpler than you'd want, allowing no wiggle room to even try to twist this.

With a deep, somewhat shaky inhale that he takes as defeat, you look at him with the wettest eyes you could possibly muster, leaning the weight of your head into his palm.

"I would like you to show me..how much you appreciate me sir." The words stumbled off your tongue, feeling clunky as they fell out of your mouth. He should know that's what you meant, and it's stupid that he makes you say it.

You hear his warm hum of approval, rewarding your less than stellar performance with a soothing rub of the stinging flesh of your ass and a deep kiss, keeping you firmly planted between him and the hard laminate.

A small whimpers escapes your lips as his teeth bite, dominating the scenario in every sense of the word. He kisses like he has nothing to loose, like a man starved, a man who has everything most people could ever want but he still wants more. His tongue delves into your mouth with such precision you'd have thought he had a map.

Now both his hands wander down to your thighs as you shift, trying not to give away how soaked with slick they were. He squeezes, kneading as they travel farther down to the ditch of your knees. Your head swirled with the dual sensations, as he proceeded to lift, just for a moment as his mouth stayed firmly planted on yours.

With eyes shooting open in surprise, you feel the cold counter against your skin. A string of spit still connects your lips as he finally allows you to separate, chuckling at just how flushed in the face you are from one kiss, only to then leave you on the counter. A moment felt like years, only ceasing when he turned his back to reveal the cake in one hand and the bottle in another, setting it next to you before returning in between your thighs.

His hands pinch the hem of your dress, toying with it for a moment before lifting it clean off in one fluid motion, leaving you in soaked panties and a lacy bra he had bought weeks ago. He clicks his tongue, taking a moment to realize just how sweet you had looked, on display for him like a toy to play with.

"How sweet.." he teased, a doting coo evident in his voice, his thick fingers finding their way to the elastic of your panties, not quite touching where you wanted. So close but still so far. It was maddening.

You watched as his eyes glanced down to the cake, its soft cream pristine and unmoving, he looks back up at you.

"Have ye tried some yet lamb?" You shake your head, he let's that one slide, following the movement of his fingers as one dips into the cream.

"Open," and you obey, probably too quickly as your jaw falls open, only to be met with two fingers on your tongue.

Wrapping your lips around him, you suck on the digits, being sure to look up at him through wet lashes. You make a show of finishing everything he gives you, coming off with an audible, wet, pop when he draws back.

"'s good?"

You nod, humming in confirmation. In the midst of being about to speak, he reaches behind you and unhooks your bra swiftly, leaving your nipples to stiffen at the cool air. You shudder, feeling newly exposed while Paddy's stays fully dressed.

"Guess tha' means I should try some huh?" The words feel matter of fact, almost bland to the point of not matching his actions.

You whimper at the sudden chilled sensation of whipped cream on your breasts and down your sternum. You almost say something, a whine of feeling too cold, too sticky, until you feel two fingers prod at your entrance, curling with known precision.

A moan swirls out of your mouth, all shuddering and wobbly with pleasure. The sort of feeling that has your nails digging into his bicep and your back arching. Then you feel his mouth, warm and wet as he trails licks and sloppy kisses from your pantyline to your sternum, tracing the dessert with his tongue.

You practically see stars as the dual stimulation, his fingers curling into that gummy spot that he knows so well. Writhing in his grip, your breath quickens as the man's thumb rubs agonizingly slow circles on your clit. If you knew one thing, it was that Paddy loves to tease.

"Si..sir! 'm gonna-" You're met with a sharp sting directly on your cunt, thighs clamping so hard around his hand they're trembling. His rough, flat hand making contact directly with your clit, the metal ring adding a distinct throb that has you clenching around his fingers greedily.

"No stammerin'. Tell me yer gonna cum like a good slut or 'm stoppin'."

A sob rips through you as your shoulders shake. One arm dedicated to holding tightly onto him, as if it was the only thing keeping you on the ground, while the other trembled in attempts to keep you at least somewhat upright. He could be so cruel.

There's a shake to your voice, a sweet moan drawn from you as the wave crescendoing in your belly begins to peak, its crash imminent and approaching rapidly. Your grip tightens.

"Fuck..Paddy pluh.. please~" the tears cascading down your cheeks wasn't intentional, bubbling over your lashline brimming with need. Your chest goes in rapid successions of rising and falling, there was somehow not enough breath you could take but also far too much. The quick circles on your nerve felt sharp, pointed pricks stabbing deep into your core while the walls of your cunt fluttered in a desperate attempt to keep Paddy's fingers curled inside.

"I've mn..I've been really good." Your weeps were pathetic, soft and pleading.

"Aye, ya have, really good. Jus' need some remindin' don' you?" His mouth is over your breast, making sure theres not a part of your body he hasn't left untouched. He yearned to make your father question why his daughter was wearing a turtleneck in the heat of summer, why you were now walking with a limp and squirmed while seated at the dinner table.

He took your pitiful nod as good enough, he thinks that you've been strung along enough, pinching your peaked nipples between his fingers while he takes the other in his mouth.

"Go 'head, cum for me." With his mouth full, he gets to listen to you squeal and writhe, that much awaited fluid suddenly gushing over his fingers. His chuckles vibrate against your chest as he keeps up the steady rhythm of his fingers while while you come down, head leaned on his arm.

Your head was still foggy and swimming with post orgasmic bliss while he withdrew his fingers. and soaked in a combination of cum and slick. Eyeing your glazed over vision, he makes sure you're watching as he licks every trace of your release off his fingers pulling you closer to him as you grimace, a grin plastered on his face.

He kisses your head, moving sweat stuck hair out of your face.

"I think m'girl tastes a bit sweeter" He teases, rubbing the side of your arm

"Taste, then y'can tell me" Your head leans against his arm, shifting to look into those glinting eyes once again. Obediently, your mouth opens, even sticking your tongue out, only to be met with a half chuckle at your enthusiasm.

You feel his fingers enter your mouth again, but this time its different, tastes different. With his fingers he had also grabbed a half cut strawberry, originally left for decoration now swirling with the taste of your own pleasure, sweet and tart all at the same time. He shushes your initial whine, watching intently as your lips wrap around him. The berry softens to a pulp before swallowing, drawing his fingers out, leaving the saliva that connects your tongue to him as you attempting to catch your breath.

He leans in close, whispering

"Good isn't it? Nothin' sweeter than my doll's cunt."

Nodding in agreement, you hum, still trying to get back everything in your brain that leaked out of your pussy and onto Paddy's fingers. He rubs your thighs, deep, soothing circles leaving delicious aches as you watch him think. You feel your heat pulse, trying to draw something when there's nothing there, squirming on your spot on the counter.

"Y'need more don' you?" There's a knowing smirk attached to that statement, he knew you wouldn't be satiated with just fingers, especially when his cock is at your disposal.

"Go on, ask for it. Can' read yer mind now can I?"

A pout flashes on your lips, soft and glossy. He very well knows what you want as you sit nude and desperate for what is rightfully yours, you shouldn't have to ask. But you know what he had in store if you pinched a fit, the ache in your clit evident, a years worth of punishment at the front of your mind. You keep the pout, resting your head on his arm, fingers shakily toying with the buttons on his shirt, undoing the first couple.

"You.. You know what I want sir.." Your eyes shift up to his, mischievous shine in the dark irises as he listens for the magic words.

"I need your cock.. I've been really good.." In your attempt to sweeten the deal for what you know you'll already get, you begin to kiss at his collar, moving up to his neck and jaw with his stubble scraping you just right.

With a content sigh, he slides you off the counter, setting you down in wobbly legs. He watches you stand, shaking like a newborn fawn trying to take its first steps. He leans into your ear as you're trying to put all your focus into not falling.

"Go up to yer room an' wait. Do not touch." He emphasizes his words with a playful spank, not enough impact to cause any real pain. You yelp and jolt forward at the sudden force, sending a glare at him over your shoulder.

Cautiously, you take steps. One after another leading you to your old bedroom, sitting on the edge of the mattress as you take in your surroundings. With your brain finally coming back to you, there is absolutely no way two fully grown people could do anything on this bed, only really being able fitting you comfortably whenever you stay in here. You have no clue why he told you to go in here, you would've let him take you against the counter, or in the study, or the living room, not this too small bed you're afraid won't be able to support the weight of both you and the grown man plowing into you.

You don't get to continue thinking for very long, hearing the door begin to creak open, heavy steps on the other side finally coming in. Your back involuntarily straightens, gazing up at him as he walks in, bottle in hand as he sets it down on the dainty night table. He takes in the surroundings with a brief exhale out of his nose, chuckling .

"See ye' didn't change much." You flush, rolling your eyes embarrassed.

"Shut up.. I'm not here that of-" You don't even get the opportunity to finish your snide comment, his warm mouth over yours once again. Moaning into it, you feel his hands push you back, far back until your spine connects with the mattress. He gives you another brief smack on the ass, acknowledging that he heard that little attitude that would be gone soon enough.

The mattress creaks under the added weight of his knee on the bed, slotting in between your thighs. Even with that brief contact, your slick soaking his pant leg. Your own hands go from his face, holding him into the kiss down to his shoulders until they finally reach the buttons of his shirt, making quick work of them. Hes still surprisingly fit for a man of his age, you guessed the military had something to do with that, his stomach soft with the pudge of domesticity, but muscles firm from work.

You slide the shirt off his shoulders, hastily throwing it to the floor. He laughs at your eagerness, breaking the kiss only to bite and suck at base of your jaw, earning your soft, breathy moans.

Your fingers make their way to the waistband of his pants, trying and failing to pop the button to get them off, you need him inside of you, now. A small whine comes from you, frustrated. His warm breath is by your, whisper and full of teasing.

"You needy little slut, y'need help?" His tone is almost mocking, condescending and filled with faux concern.

Nodding, your hand runs up his neck to the side of his face.

"Off.. need them off. Need you inside sir please." you plead, eyed watering in horny desperation as you grind and wiggle your hips into his notched knee, anything for a fraction of friction

He shushes you, rubbing your waist down to your hips before taking your thighs into his grasp.

"Shh shh no cryin'. Yer a big girl right? Big girls don' cry jus' because they don' get what they want." There's a grin on his face, one that says just how much he loves toying with you and that little pout on your lips.

Suddenly, you're yanked closer to the edge of the bed. What in reality was probably a few inches felt like miles, dragged closer to the edge, closer to him and what you yearned for. You watch as he calmly unbuttons his trousers, pulling them and his boxers down and one smooth motion, his cock bobbing up onto his stomach. His tip angry and leaking beads of precum. You can't help but stare, your walls fluttering around nothing as they anxiously wait for him.

Both of his knees hit the bed, the mattress audibly protesting. Finally, hes in between your thighs, cock lined up in against your cunt, tip nudging your clit as he coats his length in your slick, much to your mix of whining protests and syrupy moans while he teases.

You're given practically no warning when he enters, bullying the thick length into your cunt. You squeal, writhing under him as you dig your nails into his shoulder, pleading for him to give you a moment, even just a second to to this new, much needed intrusion.

His hips still, if only just for a bit while he hikes your legs up, his body weight folding you in a way you didn't know was possible before slowly easing out of you. With only the tip, left in his hips collide with yours, squirming with a gasp and a whine.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes against the soft painted wall as Paddy gets into a rhythm, hips moving in and out as your moans staccato in time with his thrusts. You're sure you've never felt him this deep before, feeling impossibly full, overwhelming filled to the brim with his cock.

You writhe, moans punched out of you from his brutal thrusts. With your legs by your ears, you feel open, vulnerable, the mixture of slick and precum in between your legs offering a sticky slapping noise with his thrusts. With one of his hands at the base of your neck and the other holding your legs, he makes you look at him with you're teary eyes and gaping lips, pace unrelenting.

"D'ya like bein' fucked stupid by a man twice yer age? Ye like him fuckin' your cunt in yer childhood bed with his necklace hangin' off your tits?" He groans, breath ragged as his hips meet your ass again and again. He slams into that spongy spot deep in your core that has your toes curling and eyes rolling back.

"Ye just like bein' some old man's slut? A toy for me to use?" He holds your face, giving your cheek a couple light slaps.

"Focus lamb, I asked ya' a question," God he was so fuckin mean, bullying his cock so deep you're worried he'll hit your womb.

"I..ha I.." You're struggling to get the words out, so many sensations combining into one out of body experience. You feel as if you're looking down at him take you from above.

"I think youre jus' a mn ..dirty old man wh..who likes to be balls deep i..in his best friends daughter~" You snide, back mouthing him while you feel as if he's in your throat.

You gasp as he pinches your nipple hard, whining as tears brim your eyes from the cruel pain as he grins above you, somehow moving his hips quicker than they were before.

"Yer gonna sass the man deep in your cunt? 'n I thought I taught ye better." He slaps your clit once again as you whimper, tears finally falling from your face, he licks them off your cheek. He leans close to whisper, breath heated and tone a false calm.

"Maybe I jus' need to put a fuckin' baby in ya', maybe that'll finally teach ya' how to fuckin' behave." There's a firm slap on your ass that has you mewling, the pain from his hit and the pleasure from his brutal thrusts mixing into one.

You can't help but giggle, cockdrunk and dazed as your eyes glean with the hope of him fulfilling that promise. You hold onto his arms as you arch your back, his flesh feeling like an anchor. Your walls clench, contracting at his words.

It doesn't go without notice, of course it doesn't. His next thrusts are especially harsh.

"Ye want that? You wan' a baby with a married man? Is that right?" He's grinning as you can't help but squirm on his cock.

"Wan' me to send ye' back to tha' college with a growin' belly? Want everyone to whisper about how much of a slut ye are havin' a babe outta wedlock?"

His fingers reach down to spin circles on your clit, your walls clamp down as you mewl out sweet, syrupy moans, nodding your head enthusiastically. The word yes slurred out of your mouth so much it could probably just be considered one long sentence.

Your hands run through his hair as his pace picks up. You've never felt so lucky that you had the house to yourself as the bed slammed into the wall, creaking every time he moved his hips. You feel a mess, drool and tears on your face as your head begins to blank, you don't think you could remember the day if anyone asked.

"Oh an' your da.. he'd jus' have a fit." Paddy sneered, biting down on your neck so hard you'll have to find makeup to conceal the mark that'll be left in its wake.

"He'd probably throw ya' out in the street after findin' out what a whore he raised." You can't feel your legs, you can't feel anything other than the pleasure rushing to your core, your eyes roll back as your limbs feel useless, like jelly even as the heat in your belly grows hotter.

" mn.. paddy 'm.. 'm gonna -" You whimpered, high and breathy as you hear a crack, sharp and splintering as your body begins to slide, the only thing keeping you still is the weight behind the mans thrusts. The small bed giving into the weight of you both.

"Go on, ye' can do it lamb, soak my cock." And you do, soaking both of you as you cry out, holding onto his hands as you sob. Your release splashing up to your lower belly in a way that hadn't happened before.

His thrusts kept their pace as he grins, continuing cruel circles on your clit as you soak his hand, clamping down on his cock. He stills, letting out a low groan as he presses his chest to yours, feeling his warm cum flood your womb while his shallow thrusts ease you down from your high.

He presses a kiss to yours sweaty forehead, wiping makeup and tears off your face.

"You're good.. so so good.." You sniffle, holding onto him as if he were your only lifeline.

Reluctantly, he pulls out, watching as his cum begins to slowly leak from your entrance, only for him to scoop it back in with his fingers, being met with your whines and shudders of being too sensitive. He chuckles, giving you a quick kiss on the lips before setting you on his lap on the last stable part of the bed.

"I told him to get ya' a new bed.. yer a woman now after all.. need somethin' stronger." He chuckles and you dazedily nod, finally regaining a bit of feeling in your lower body.

Rubbing your back, he opens the bottle he set so carefully on the table beside you pouring some of the clear liquid in a glass you hadn't seen him grab.

"Bought me the nice one too didn't you love, how sweet." He teases before taking a swig, the liquor burning nicely as it goes down.

The room feels charged, alive but still so warm somehow as the both of you sit on a cracked bed. You feels docile now, soothing in his energy. You feel him lean over to kiss the side of your rested head, nothing could compare to how soft you feel in this moment, full and cared for by the man you loved. You hoped every anniversary would feel like this, leaning into him as you feel him rub your back soothingly.