ꔫvennaꔫ

“chris,” you warn, but there’s no real protest in it.

he backs you up until your thighs hit the vanity, lights glowing warm around the mirror, making the red of your dress look even deeper. his hands slide up your waist, thumbs brushing just under your ribs, and his eyes never leave your face.

“you’re shaking,” he murmurs.

“because i’m about to go onstage at madison square garden,” you whisper, pecking his lips.

he smiles, soft and proud, then leans in to kiss you. slow at first, like he’s telling you everything’s okay without saying it.

then it turns hungry.

his lips part, tongue slipping against yours, and the kiss deepens until your fingers curl into his jacket. he presses closer, and you feel him—hard already, needy, unmistakable.

“baby,” he groans into your mouth. “i’ve been thinkin’ about this dress since dress rehearsal last week”

his hands slide down, grabbing your ass through the thin fabric, pulling you to the edge of the vanity. your legs part automatically, instinctively.

“someone’s gonna come in,” you whisper, breathless.

“door’s locked,” he murmurs, kissing down your jaw, your neck. “and i’ll be quick. promise.”

he lifts the hem of your dress just enough, fingers slipping underneath your panties, warm against your skin. you gasp softly when he finds your wetness, already so soaked and open for him.

“see?” he hums. “you want this too.”

you nod, biting your lip. “just don’t mess up my mic pack. the sound guys spent forever setting it up.”

he laughs quietly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “i got you. always.”

he drops to his knees in front of you, fast now, urgency kicking in. the santa hat tilts forward over your eyes as he pushes your thighs apart, hands firm, possessive.

“fuck,” he mutters, looking up at you. “you’re unreal.”

his mouth is on you immediately, no warning, no teasing. just warm and wet and perfect. your head falls back against the mirror, lights blurring as his tongue moves slow at first, deliberate, like he’s savoring you even with the clock ticking.

“chris, baby, fuck” you gasp, fingers tangling in his hair. “oh my god.”

he hums against you, the vibration sending heat straight through your stomach. one hand grips your thigh, the other sliding up to hold you steady as his mouth works you open.

you hear someone laugh in the hallway, footsteps passing, and it makes everything sharper. louder. hotter.

he pulls back just long enough to murmur, “you sound so fuckin’ pretty when you’re nervous.”

then he’s back between your thighs, tongue flicking just right, faster now. focused.

your knees tremble. “i’m, chris, m’not gonna-”

he looks up at you again, eyes dark, locked onto yours. “yeah, you are. cum for me, baby. i wanna feel you shake on my tongue before you go out there and kill the whole fuckin’ arena.”

that does it.

your body tightens, breath catching, and you cum hard and fast, biting your lip to keep quiet as chris groans softly against you, holding you through it.

“that’s it,” he whispers, standing quickly, kissing you deep as you come down. “good girl.”

he helps you stand, and then spins you gently, turning you around so your hands brace against the vanity. the mirror shows flushed cheeks, messy lips, santa hat still barely hanging on.

“we really don’t have time,” you breathe.

he presses into you from behind, lining himself up, hands firm on your hips. “just one thing.”

he pushes inside you in one smooth thrust, and you choke on a gasp, head dropping forward.

“fuck,” he groans. “you feel, shit, baby, perfect.”

he doesn’t go fast. he can’t. every thrust is deep and controlled, like he’s trying to memorize the way you feel around him in the next three minutes.

“chris,” you whisper, body still sensitive, still warm. “oh my god.”

his hand slides up your stomach, fingers brushing the front of your dress, then your chest. he leans over you, mouth at your ear.

“i’m so fuckin’ proud of you,” he murmurs, voice low and shaky. “you know that?”

your heart stutters. “yeah?”

“yeah.” he thrusts again, slower, deeper. “my girl. up on stage all the time, killing it. fuckin’ unreal.”

the bass from the stage thumps louder now. someone knocks faintly down the hall.

“two minutes,” a voice calls.

“shit,” he laughs breathlessly, kissing your jaw, his hips snapping just a little faster. “okay. okay.”

his hand dips between your thighs, fingers finding you again, gentle but exact.

“chris!” your voice breaks.

“i know, baby,” he groans. “i know. just give me one more.”

your body tightens again, the sensation overwhelming, and he follows you this time, thrusts turning sloppy, desperate.

“fuck,” he groans into your shoulder, grip tightening as he spills inside you. “holy shit.”

you both freeze for a second, breathing hard, bodies pressed together.

then he pulls out gently, pulling your panties up and fixing your dress, smoothing the fabric like nothing happened. he straightens your santa hat, kisses your cheek, then your lips, soft this time. 

“okay,” he says, smiling. “you good?”

you nod, laughing softly. “yeah. yeah, i’m good.”

he squeezes your hand once before opening the door. “go kill it, sweetheart.”

you step into the hallway, heart pounding, body still buzzing.

behind you, chris watches with that familiar look. proud, ruined, but always completely in love.

you grab your mic, going toward the stage lift. as your rise onto stage, the arena roars in excitement. chris spots a small wet tear on your thigh, smirking to himself.

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aurora's notes: bringing back my fav au of mine for the holidays 😛

- aurora ᯓ✮⋆˙

likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! ੈ✩‧₊˚

to be added to my taglist, comment on this post!

the room felt different once the camera shut off. the usual chaos of nick and matt bickering carried out into the hallway with them, their laughter fading as the door swung shut behind them. you stayed put, curled in the same chair you’d claimed when they started filming, your body buzzing.

chris hadn’t moved yet. he was still sitting there, shoulders dropped against the back of his chair, one leg bouncing lazily while he stretched his fingers out, flexing them like he was working out the stiffness. your eyes caught on the way his knuckles shifted, the long pull of tendons beneath his skin, the absent way he bent his thumb into his palm and rolled it back again. you knew you were staring, but it was like trying to look away from something you weren’t supposed to see—every little twitch, every stretch, settling heavier in your stomach until your thighs pressed together without you meaning to.

you didn’t realize he was watching you until his voice cut through the quiet. “how many do you think you could take?”

your head snapped up, heat flooding your face, his words not connecting right away. “huh?”

his mouth tugged into a slow smirk, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. he lifted his hand, flexed his fingers once, deliberate. “you keep staring at my hands like you wanna fuck ’em,” he said, voice low, almost conversational. “so i’m asking—how many do you think you could take?”

the air felt like it shifted all at once, your pulse beating so hard in your ears you barely caught the way his gaze dropped, flicking down your body and back up again, like he already knew the answer.

you froze, not sure if you should laugh it off or pretend you hadn’t heard him right, but chris didn’t give you either option. he leaned forward in his chair, elbows braced on his knees, eyes locked on you like he was waiting.

“c’mon,” he pressed, tilting his head. “you’ve been staring all night. don’t go shy on me now.”

your mouth opened, closed, no sound coming out. he watched you squirm for a second, then lifted his hand higher, palm out, stretching all ten fingers like he was offering proof.

“two? three?” he dragged his tongue over his bottom lip, slow, like he was thinking about it. “fuck, i bet you could take four easy. maybe even the whole hand if you were desperate enough.”

your thighs pressed together tighter, a tiny shift you couldn’t stop, and his eyes darkened instantly.

“yeah,” he muttered, more to himself than to you, leaning back again like he needed the space. “that’s what it is, huh?”

you tried to play dumb, leaning back in your chair like you hadn’t been caught. “i dunno what you’re talking about.”

“yeah, you do.” his tone was flat, almost bored, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. he shifted, spreading his legs wider, hand resting heavy against his thigh.

“wasn’t doing anything.”

“right.” he lifted his hand, stretching his fingers slow, watching the way your gaze dragged after them before you could stop yourself. “sat there staring holes through me, squeezing your thighs together, you’ve been eye-fucking my hands since we sat down, but you ‘weren’t doing anything’ ?” his mouth twitched like he was holding back a laugh. “try again.”

“you’re making shit up.”

“am i?” his voice stayed steady, a little rough at the edges. his hand dropped back to his thigh, fingers tapping against denim like he had all the time in the world. “look at you right now. you can’t even keep your eyes off.”

“you’re annoying.” it came out weaker than you meant, more like a whisper.

“yeah?” he leaned forward just enough to make you press back against the chair. “so how many?”

your breath caught. “how many what?”

he didn’t answer. he stood, closing the space between you until you were looking up at him. his hand brushed along your cheek, almost gentle, before his fingers tightened around your jaw and tipped your face higher, thumb pressing until your mouth fell open.

his fingers stayed firm, holding your face where he wanted it. he looked down at you like he was waiting for something you couldn’t quite give.

“c’mon,” he murmured, thumb dragging slow at the corner of your mouth. “use that brain. smart girl like you should be able to answer a simple question.”

“m’not sure what you’re talking about.” the words came out muffled against the grip he still had on your jaw, your eyes darting anywhere but his.

his thumb pressed deeper into your cheek, tilting your face until you had no choice but to meet his eyes. “then i guess i’ll have to show you, huh baby?” his voice dropped lower, almost a whisper, his breath brushing against your lips.

he let go just long enough to drag his fingers down, pressing past your chin and resting against the hollow of your throat. you stayed frozen, heart hammering, until his other hand caught your knee and pushed it wide.

“let’s see,” he muttered, half to himself, sliding down between your thighs. his hand slid up and pressed right over your pussy, the heel of his palm grinding down through your shorts until your breath caught. “we’ll start with one.”

his hand slipped under the fabric, two fingers sliding through your folds, rubbing up and down until they were shiny with your arousal. he dragged over your clit just once, the faintest brush, and you couldn’t stop the noise that broke out of you.

“soaked,” he muttered, dragging his fingers lower, spreading you open just to feel the mess between your legs. “been sitting there whining in your chair like this the whole time? fuck—look at you.”

you whimpered, hips lifting, chasing the pressure, trying to guide him down where you needed him. he let you grind against nothing for a second before pulling back, tracing over your clit again, slower this time.

“needy little thing,” he said, tone mocking. “lifting your hips, trying to fuck yourself on my hand. how pathetic“ 

your cunt clenched around nothing, your thighs twitching, until finally he pushed a finger inside. the soft gasp that left you made his lips part, his eyes glued to the way you took him in.

he curled it once, pulled back, then pushed in again deeper. “you think you can count for me, baby? or you gonna sit there all dumb while i do all the work?”

your walls fluttered around the single digit, gripping tight like your body was desperate to keep it. he twisted his hand, dragging his finger out to the tip before sliding it back in, knuckle-deep. “that’s one,” he muttered, watching the way your mouth parted even though it was barely anything. “and you’re already acting like it’s too much.”

you shook your head quick, breath catching as he curled again, brushing that spot that had your hips lifting off the chair. his grin was sharp, his hand steady, pace unhurried. “not even close to finished, baby. don’t start whining yet.”

his free hand pressed down on your stomach, holding you in place when you tried to squirm closer, his thumb grazing your clit just enough to make your thighs shake. “say it for me,” he pushed, voice low. “one.”

your lips parted shakily around the word, “one.”

he hummed like he was satisfied, sliding the finger out, letting you feel the loss for a beat before pressing it back in. his eyes stayed locked on your face, like every twitch and gasp was something to memorize. “good girl,” he said under his breath, almost like it wasn’t meant for you to hear.

then he shifted, his hand sliding lower until a second finger pressed against your entrance. he didn’t push right away — just circled the rim of your cunt, coating himself in the slick already dripping out of you. “look at this mess,” he said, dragging it higher to smear across your clit, making you jolt.

your hips lifted, a whimper slipping out before you could stop it. “please—just—”

his other hand cracked against your thigh, sharp enough to sting. “don’t be greedy,” he snapped, pressing your leg down to the chair. “we’ll get there eventually. you’re gonna take what i give you.”

without warning he pushed the second finger in alongside the first, stretching you open slow. your gasp broke into a moan, your walls fluttering as you clenched down around him.

“there you go,” he muttered, twisting his wrist until both fingers were buried deep. his pace stayed steady, dragging them out, pressing them back in until you were rocking helplessly against his hand. “say it.”

you only managed a soft moan, head tipping back against the chair.

his pace didn’t falter, but his eyes cut up to yours. “if you keep making me tell you to say it, i’ll stop right now.”

your eyes flew open, panic rushing through your chest. “nonono—please, m’sorry—two—it’s two.”

you scrambled to make up for your slip, stammering out the number, but he didn’t let you off easy. his fingers kept moving, fucking into you harder until your breath hitched. every thrust had you clenching down tighter, chasing the friction.

he fucked the two fingers into you steady, letting you grind down on his hand, letting you think you had what you wanted. but then he shifted, dragging them out slow until only the tips stayed inside. the sudden emptiness made your cunt clench, desperate.

“think you can handle three?” he asked, already pressing the third finger against your entrance, pushing just enough to make you stretch around it without giving it to you fully. “hm? or is my greedy girl tapped out already?”

your whole body jolted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “i can! i can do it, promise—please—just give it to me.” your voice cracked around the whine, hips rolling helplessly against his hand, trying to force him deeper.

he let you grind down against nothing, his fingers holding steady just at your entrance. “listen to you,” he murmured, soft but cutting. “about to cry over it.”

he pressed the third finger in slow, stretching you open until your cunt swallowed all three. your mouth fell open, a broken moan tearing free, and he cooed low in his throat like he almost felt bad for you. “thaaaaats it, baby. knew you could do it.”

he set a steady pace, dragging his fingers out and driving them back in until your chair creaked under the way you were moving against him. the stretch had you whining, head falling back, every sound you made feeding the smug curl of his mouth.

“tell me,” he said after a beat, his eyes locked on your face. his fingers curled deep, making you gasp. “all that staring earlier—what were you thinking about? hm? be honest with me.”

your chest rose sharp, words catching in your throat. “i—i don’t—”

he fucked his fingers into you harder, the heel of his palm grinding over your clit until you gasped. “stop playing dumb. you needed this. so say it.”

you stuttered around the moan that broke out of you, your face hot, tears pricking your eyes from how overwhelming it felt. “was—was thinking about your fingers—inside me—couldn’t stop—”

his laugh was quiet and cruel. “see, that wasn’t so hard was it? sitting there soaking your panties just watching me move my hands.”

you nodded against his grip, words tumbling out broken. “couldn’t help it—just kept watching—kept thinking about how they’d feel—”

he pumped his fingers deeper, curling them hard enough to punch another moan out of you. “and now you know,” he muttered, thumb brushing over your clit in slow, mean circles. “does it feel like you thought it would?”

your answer came out high and shaky, more a sob than words. “better—f-feels so much better—”

he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, voice dropping low. “look at you. all fucked out and i’ve barely given you anything.” his pace never faltered, three fingers driving into your cunt, his palm grinding your clit until your thighs shook.

“you’ve got no idea what you look like right now,” he muttered, eyes flicking down. his cock was straining against his jeans, the dark patch spreading at the tip where he’d already leaked through. “got me fucking aching just watching you lose it. leaking all over myself like a teenager while you whine on my hand.”

he curled his fingers deep, dragging another broken cry out of you. “can’t stop thinking about how good this pussy’s gonna feel around my cock.”

your head tipped back, voice cracking as the words spilled out. “want your cock, chris—please, need it so bad—”

he clicked his tongue, shaking his head slowly. “not ready yet, baby. gotta see how many you can take, remember?” his pace slowed just long enough to make you whimper before he pressed a fourth finger against your cunt, stretching you open around it. “four,” he breathed, watching your face twist as he pushed it inside.

“f-four,” you choked out, the word breaking into a moan when he shoved all the way in, his knuckles pressing flush against you.

his jaw clenched, the muscles ticking as he started to fuck his hand into you rough, driving all four fingers deep with each thrust. the sound of it was obscene, your pussy squelching around the stretch, wet dripping down onto his wrist. “listen to you,” he growled, snapping his hips forward against the back of the chair, trying to ease the ache in his cock. “taking four like it’s nothing. greedy little slut just can’t get enough.”

your eyes rolled back when he curled them hard, thumb grinding over your clit, and your legs shook under the force of it. “look at this pussy,” he bit out, voice ragged, “so fucking wet, so stretched—fuckin’ hell”

he shoved harder, knuckles battering your cunt with every thrust, your body jerking up the chair. “crying on four fingers like you don’t fuckin’ love it,” he spat, sweat gathering at his temples as his cock strained painful in his jeans. 

his thumb circled your clit mean and steady, no rhythm but enough pressure to make your whole body seize. your back arched, a sob breaking out of you, and you couldn’t stop the way your cunt clenched down, milking his fingers like it was cock.

“fuuuuuckkk—there it is,” he snarled, slamming into you through your orgasm, wrist slick and shining with how much you were dripping. “squeezing the life out of me. soaking my fucking hand.”

you gasped through it, trembling, tears wetting your lashes as your thighs shook and your hips jerked helplessly against his palm, riding every wave until you were spent.your cunt still clenched around his fingers like it didn’t want to let go, sucking them back in every time he tried to pull out.

“chris—” the word fell out broken, your chest heaving. “please—kiss me, fuck me—do something—need you, need it so bad—” you didn’t even sound like yourself anymore, just a blabbering mess, words tumbling over each other as you clawed at his arm.

he laughed low, rough in your ear. “i am doing something, baby.” his wrist snapped harder, driving all four fingers back into your pussy until the wet slap echoed in the room.

you cried out, the sound breaking into sobs as the pressure built again too fast, your body wrung out and trembling. tears slid hot down your cheeks, your hand grabbing at his wrist, nails digging in. “chris—it’s too much, please—just kiss me, i can’t—”

he held steady, jaw tight, eyes flicking over your tear-streaked face. “can’t what?” he taunted, fucking you harder, thumb dragging cruelly over your clit. “can’t take it? thought you wanted my cock. can’t even handle my hand, baby.”

another sob spilling out as you clung to his wrist, trying to slow him down and drag him closer at the same time. “please, chris—just—kiss me, i’ll take it, i swear—please—”

he groaned at that, the desperation in your voice hitting him harder than anything else. “fuck,” he muttered, finally crashing his mouth against yours, still fucking you rough through it. the kiss was messy, teeth knocking, his tongue forcing past your lips while his fingers kept working your pussy like he wasn’t going to stop until you broke all over again.

your moans bled into his mouth, wet and frantic, your thighs shaking uncontrollably as another orgasm ripped through you, harder than the first. he swallowed every sound, panting against your lips. “that’s it,” he growled into your mouth, “cry on it for me, baby. show me how bad you need it.” his fingers never slowed, dragging against that spot over and over until you were sobbing into the kiss, your whole body clenching down around him.

you came undone messy on his hand, slick gushing down his wrist, your nails raking his arm as you tried to hold on. every aftershock had your cunt gripping him tighter, like it was begging him not to leave.

finally, finally, he eased the pace, slowing the thrust of his fingers until you were twitching under the drag of each shallow push. your body shook in the chair, breath ragged, sweat cooling on your skin.

he pulled back just enough to look at you, lips swollen from the kiss, tears still shining in your lashes. “ready for my cock,” he asked, “or you need a minute?”

your chest heaved, head tipping back against the chair as you tried to breathe through the tremors still running up your thighs. “i—i need—” your voice cracked, too shaky to finish.

he brushed his fingers over your cunt again, slow, lazy, just enough to make your hips twitch. “what, baby? need me to stop?”

“no—fuck no—don’t stop,” you whimpered, grabbing at his shirt with weak fingers. “just—just give me a second—please, chris, i still want it. need your cock so bad.” your voice was wrecked, half-plea, half-sob, like you couldn’t even tell the difference anymore.

he exhaled slow, finally easing his hand out of you. his fingers sticky with your cum, dripping down his knuckles, but he didn’t say a word about it. instead he leaned in, kissing you softer this time, mouths brushing lazy until you could catch your breath.

“you did so good for me,” he murmured against your lips, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, then another just under your eye where a tear had streaked. his hands rubbed slow up and down your trembling thighs, grounding you. “took everything i gave you. so proud of my girl.”

he leaned back just enough to get his hand on his jeans, undoing the button with one hand while the other smoothed over your skin. the zipper came down, the weight of his cock heavy as he pulled it free.

the first tug had him hissing against your mouth, forehead pressed to yours. “shit,” he muttered, voice raw, jerking himself slow while he let you breathe. he kissed along your jaw, down the side of your neck, soft pecks that didn’t match the way his fist worked his cock.

“m’ready,” you whispered, the words shaky but certain, your fingers clutching at his shirt like you were afraid he’d stop.

he pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes narrowed. “you sure? i can just cum in my hand, honestly. you look exhausted.” his tone was half-teasing, half-serious, his fist stroking lazy down the length of his cock. “don’t need to fuck you tonight if it’s too much.”

your eyes went wide, panic flashing across your face as you shook your head quick. “what? no—please, don’t say that—i want it, chris, need it so bad—” your voice cracked, tears threatening again.

he kissed your cheek, shushing you softly, his cock still heavy in his fist. “hey, hey, breathe. if you’re sure, i’ll give it to you.”

“i’m sure,” you stammered, clinging to him like proof. “want it—want you inside me—please.”

his jaw tightened, his cock leaking against your thigh where it brushed. “alright then, baby,” he muttered, pressing one last kiss under your eye. he lined himself up, dragging the head of his cock through your folds until it caught on your entrance. the both of you groaned at once, the blunt pressure alone enough to make your whole body jolt for the umpteenth time tonight.

slowly, he pushed in, the stretch brutal after his fingers, your cunt fluttering around him as inch after inch sank inside, his forehead pressed to yours.

Ain't Shit

After your piss poor excuse of a boyfriend left you in tears, you asked your best friend, Chris, to come pick you up from his house in the middle of the night. Minutes later, his headlights were illuminating Jake's street on his way to come rescue you.

You were standing on the pavement with mascara streaking down your cheeks and your hair freshly done when Chris saw you beneath the glow of the streetlight. He looked like he'd just rolled out of bed when he rolled up, his messy brown hair poking out of his grey hoodie and his tired, blue eyes glassy and bloodshot.

He took you out for a burger and a milkshake despite the late hour and the fact that there was only a restaurant open in town. He made you laugh and temporarily forget about your relationship that was in shambles.

Chris was used to this.

He was always consoling you any time you and Jake had a fight, letting you cry on his shoulder and vent to him. He never minded it. He always just listened to you and kept the majority of his thoughts to himself, cracking a few jokes here and there to make you smile.

However, he'd finally had enough of your shitty boyfriend and the way he treated you, and he was finally ready to do something about it.

"Why the hell are you still with him?" He asked kind of gruffly from beside you in the front seat of his car. He tilted your chin towards him, wiping away a tear as it rolled down your cheek. "Seriously. Enlighten me."

"I don't know. I just..." Your voice trailed off. You sniffled, nuzzling into his chest. "I guess the sex is really good," you admitted, laughing.

"Oh, come on. You could get good sex anywhere," Chris told you, reaching up to stroke your hair. "Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but your man ain't shit."

"Chris, you don't get it. You're not a girl," you replied, looking up at him and rolling your eyes.

"What don't I get?" He asked, his eyes fixed on your lips. "He's always making you cry. It just breaks my heart to see you like this. You're telling me you put up with him because he's got a big dick?"

"Well, it's not just that. He's tall, and he's handsome.." You started off, trying to find other redeeming qualities that weren't just physical.

"Well, I'm taller, more handsome, and probably have a bigger dick than him, so what then?" He interrupted, wetting his lips as he looked at you hungrily. Your eyebrows flew up as you studied Chris' face, waiting for him to laugh or crack a joke, but there was a sincerity in his voice.

"What?" You laughed, looking at him dumbfounded.

"C'mon. Here. Let's make a deal. If I can make you feel better than your boyfriend can, you have to leave him," Chris said in a low voice, placing a hand on your thigh and drawing circles on your flesh.

"Chris.." you said as if you were going to stop him, but you tightened your grasp around his arm, squeezing your thighs together at his words.

Somehow, you found yourself in nothing but your lace bra and matching panties in the backseat of Chris' car. You were sprawled out on the leather, laying on your back, and he was nestled between your legs, tugging the flimsy black lace to the side.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you whispered, but the lust in your voice betrayed you. Chris' hot breath ghosted over your heat as he chuckled, sending excited shivers down your spine.

"Yeah? Why? Because I might actually make you cum harder than your boyfriend can?" Chris smirked up at you from between your legs, his blue eyes burning through you with desire.

He placed his thumb on your clit and started moving it in slow, deliberate circles, teasing you and eliciting a soft moan from you. You reached down and tightly gripped his wrist, but you didn't stop him.

"What would your boyfriend think if he knew you were drooling like this on my leather seats right now?" Chris purred, his erection pinned beneath him. "Bet he'd regret making you cry and leaving this sweet pussy all alone with me."

His words made your stomach twist and turn with need. You whined, squirming around as he played with you, his fingers sending waves of arousal through you while they explored your folds.

Suddenly, Chris was replacing his fingers with his mouth, his cheek gently brushing against the inside of your soft, plush thigh. His fluttering tongue grazed your folds, making you gasp.

The sound of your vibrating phone broke you out of your trance. You reached for it off of the floor of Chris' car. "It's him," you whispered, glancing down at Chris after you read Jake's name on your screen. Your heart and mind raced.

"Answer it," Chris encouraged you, pulling back for a moment. You picked up, holding the phone up to your ear with a shaky hand.

"Hello?" You answered.

"Where are you?" His voice came through the phone sharply. You were just about to answer when you felt Chris' lips latch onto your clit, your breath catching in your throat. "Hello? Where the fuck are you?" He repeated more angrily this time.

"I'm with Chris," you answered, biting down on your lip after to conceal a moan. Your free hand flew down, and you threaded your fingers through his soft, brown hair.

"You're still with him? He picked you up like an hour ago," your boyfriend huffed, a hint of jealousy and suspicion in his voice. "What's taking so long?"

"He's taking me home right now," you lied, peering down at the blue-eyed boy.

Chris created a bit of suction, closing his lips down around your clit and suckling as he watched you to try maintain your composure. Your heart was thrumming away in your ears as Chris worked his mouth on your heat.

"He better keep his hands off you," your boyfriend barked into the phone. Too late. You tipped your head back, your eyes rolling back into your head as Chris started flicking his tongue over your sensitive bud.

"What? He's just a friend..." you told him, your voice trailing off as you bit down on your lip again to hold back a moan.

"Sh, sh, sh," Chris hushed you, his warm breath ghosting over your quivering cunt.

"I see the way he looks at you," Jake sneered.

You gazed back down at the boy between your legs whose hungry eyes were devouring you. "He looks like that at everyone," you replied, not even believing your own words as they came out of your mouth.

"Come on, I'm not stupid."

Debatable, you thought to yourself.

You closed your thighs down around Chris' ears as he slurped up your juices, your whole body shaking in response. You released his messy, brown hair from your firm grasp and clamped your hand down around your mouth to keep yourself from moaning his name.

"Are you there?" Jake wondered on the other end of the phone.

"Y-yeah, I'm here," you responded, clearing your throat.

Chris withdrew his mouth from your heat for a moment with a smug look on his face. He flattened his hand and started slapping your pussy, his palm hitting your clit over and over, sending a jolt of electricity through you. Your breath stuttered at the sensation.

"Don't you run," Chris rasped from between your thighs, gripping your hips and pulling you closer as you writhed under his rough touch.

"Something's up. I can tell," Jake accused you. Chris held a finger up to his lips, quieting you.

"Listen I'm kind of tired. Can we talk about this in the morn-?" Just as you were finishing your sentence, Chris slipped a finger into your sopping cunt, making you gasp loudly.

"What? Are you okay? Why'd you make that sound?" Your boyfriend asked.

You took a deep breath before answering. "A deer ran out in front of us. We're fine," you replied, the lie rolling off your tongue with ease.

Chris chuckled from between your legs, his fingers and tongue working faster. Your chest was moving rhythmically with your breath, trying desperately to keep the sounds to a minimum so your boyfriend wouldn't know how close you were to falling apart on your best friend's face.

"When are you going to be home?" Jake wondered.

"I'm almost there..." you said in a breathy voice, your gaze locked onto Chris'.

Your boyfriend started apologizing to you, like he always did, saying he was going to change, but he never did. You'd heard it a million times before. Even if it weren't for the fact that your gorgeous best friend was buried between your thighs, you'd be tuning him out at this point.

Chris sped up the flicker of his tongue, adding another finger to your drooling hole. You couldn't take it anymore. You pulled the phone away from your ear and hit the mute button just in time.

"Chris!" The moans you'd been holding back were ripped from you. You squeezed your eyes shut, your toes curling and your back arching off of the leather beneath you. You trembled under the stroke of his tongue and the thrust of his fingers.

As your unsuspecting boyfriend's apologies spilled into the space around you, so did the wet sounds of Chris finger-fucking you and lapping up your fluids. The pleasure was so overwhelming that for a moment, all you could hear was the sound of your heart pumping blood and adrenaline to every extremity and the ringing in your ears as your whole body tightened and released.

"Hello? Are you there?" You heard Jake's voice again once the rush subsided. You unmuted yourself.

"Hey, sorry. We drove through a dead zone," you lied, clearing your throat again. "Call me tomorrow, okay?" You told him before quickly hanging up.

Your phone fell out of your hand and onto the floor of Chris' car as Chris roughly flipped you onto your stomach. "I'm not fuckin' done with you." You heard his voice in your ear as he held your body close, pressing his hard cock against your ass.

"Poor Jake," Chris clicked his tongue, his voice laced with faux sympathy. "Has no idea he's already lost his girlfriend." You heard Chris slowly unzip his jeans. Before you had time to even catch your breath, his thick, swollen tip was prodding at your entrance. He pushed it in with a primal grunt, and your eyes widened, and jaw dropped as you felt him stretch you.

He was bigger than Jake.

He slowly dragged his length out of you and pushed it in again with a brute force, earning a loud moan from you. You could tell by the way his tip rutted into your pleasure spot that you didn't stand a chance.

"It's so big," you whimpered in between pants, earning a chuckle from him. He picked up the pace, his thick cock pounding into you from behind over and over.

You heard the vibration of your phone, nestled in your mess of clothes that were strewn on the floor of the backseat. Jake's name continuously lit up your screen as he called you again and again. You ignored it, too lost in pleasure to try to hide it from him a second time.

You grasped for something to hold onto, clawing at the leather seats as Chris bottomed out in you.

"What'd I tell you, hmm?" Chris cooed. "Clenching me so hard you can barely hang on. Wonder what your boyfriend would think of that." You tried to form a sentence, but his cock had you at a loss for words.

The whole car rocked with the motion of his hips, and the windows started to fog up with the condensation of your ragged breaths. Chris' hands tightly gripped your waist as he pistoned into you.

Your second orgasm was brewing.

You couldn't speak. You couldn't think.

All you heard was Chris' hips slamming into your ass complimented by the soft buzz of your phone that was still going off and the loud, desperate moans he was coaxing from you that you didn't even recognize as your own.

"That's it. Cum all over my cock. Good girl." Chris' voice sounded sweet and devilish at the same time. The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure bubbling over as you allowed it to take you.

It hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you and sending ripples of pure satisfaction through every part of you. You shook beneath his relentless thrusts, feeling his cock throb inside of you as you pulsed around it.

You finished onto him, coating his length in your milky cum as you slumped over onto the leather. You could hear the sound of blood rushing in your ears again, a smile curling on your lips as you finally started to recover. Chris slowed his strokes, but he continued lazily fucking you.

"How was that, hmm? Your boyfriend ever make you cum that hard?"

"Nuh uh," you shook your head no, still trying to regulate yourself. He let out a dark, satisfied chuckle in response. He loved the idea of another man's girl creaming all over his cock, especially you.