#ez.thots

It kinda pisses you off. Two can play at that game and it's not long before you're taking back the trash cans during his morning run. No bra on so your nipples poke adorably through your loose tank to match his that heave at the visual.

Accidentally dropping the lids once a week, giving him a view down your shirt and something very nice to think about later as you stumble and apologize, batting your eyelashes for disrupting his run. Pretty soon he just gets used to helping your silly clumsy self, also seizing the opportunity to know you a little bit better while subconsciously feeling your soft skin when he hands you back the dropped item. Continuing conversation over your fence that he leans against with a bicep thrown over and a sparkle in his eyes.

On warmer days, you spray the hose absentmindedly. Washing away dirt, watering the plants... It doesn't really matter what it is because you're obviously dousing yourself by total accident. Drenching your shirt with cold water that has your shrieking and Mingyu running over to see what's wrong.

He also gets to see the prettiest lace underneath your now see-through white shirt and maybe he's a lil boob obsessed but then he does something even worse! Gives you his shirt out of consideration! Now you have to watch him traipse around, tiddies and broad shoulders - lean and mean muscle, rippling and shining in the sunlight while he fusses w/ the hose that you broke intentionally.

Smh.

The games go on and on, the two of you heathens exposing as much skin allowed before the elderly couple across the street could report you for public indecency.

Still, do clothes even matter when mingyu fucks you real nice and hard from below while you bounce pathetically on his thick cock? He's suckling on your tits he loves sm, eyes bright and a woofish grin when he bites down on your nipple a little too hard.

Titling, tagging, and adding to my masterlist bc I don't think it deserves to get lost in my thot tags only... But it's informal af hehe

was thinking about loser!chan (again) who's like a 2.5 on the virgin (1) to whore (10) scale.

it's a sputtering annoyance, pain in the ass, and a total nemesis for you who has to wake up at 5am for work. you thought moving closer to the city and lessening the commute would allow for more sleep but you were sorely mistaken.

but you can't move out because this is only a recent thing! everything was fine and dandy for a whole month and you cannot believe you were duped like this.

so, after the third week of being woken up by an engine rather than your alarm two hours later and occasionally missing your phone going off altogether once you fell back asleep again - you decide to do something about it.

after getting home from work, you stomp over and knock on the door that corresponds to the motorcycle parked outside it before you lose your nerve. there's no answer and wonwoo, the owner himself, darkly watches the way you play with your jewelry nervously while waiting on the porch from his smartphone.

"who's that pretty thing?" vernon teases, leering over the man's shoulder only to laugh and walk away when the older man flips him off, middle finger's black nail polish all chipped.

a couple hours later, he leaves the rowdy bar with a smirk still on his face after having watched you flounce away - but not without slapping a hand resolutely on his door one last time. strolling up to his building, hands tucked deep in the pockets of his leather jacket, wonwoo's tongue pokes his cheek playfully at the bright yellow sticky note left behind.

"I figured you might be asleep given how late you're out and about at night. however, I ask if you could please try to be more considerate of your neighbors sleeping - kindest regards :) "

he hangs it on his empty fridge.

and you think it worked. it's been nice and quiet at night, able to wake up significantly well-rested and in a better mood. even your coworker seungkwan is surprised when you don't snap at him for talking about his third kid on the way.

until two weeks later and you're awoken rather rudely not just by one revving motorcycle - but many. repeatedly. and you're shocked you're the only one annoyed by the unnecessary interruption and looking worse for wear from the lack of sleep.

on friday, you're prepared. even though you worked all day, you watched one of your favorite kickass dramas just for the moment at 3am when you heard the engine fire up. flying outside, you point accusingly at the dark figure throwing a leg over the bike to straddle it.

"wow, was it too hard for you to be quiet?!"

wonwoo's head flies around, thankful he actually put his contacts in tonight - yes, he sometimes rides without them but shh, don't tell anyone - because he can take in your appearance rather than whatever you're saying about how he should buy a new motorcycle.

you had been in bed like a normal person so of course you were wearing a comfy t-shirt and very obviously - no bra. wonwoo's throat dries up despite his drooling, noting your bare legs for free viewing before he tosses back, "aren't ya bein' the loud one, sugar?"

with that, he's quick to use the heel of his boot to flip up the kickstand and drive away when you angrily turn around at his condescending tone. the sneak peak of black lace - of all things - when your shirt rides up causing him to harshly grip the handlebars and try not to veer off the road. but not without glancing in the mirrors to sure you make it back inside safely.

wonwoo apologizes to you in the morning.

you think nothing of the man with messy bangs and thick glasses standing outside. not until the smell of motor oil hits your nose when you open the door, a familiar leather jacket matching the material of the fingerless gloves that cautiously wave hello, and the low drawl of "hey sugar, sorry 'bout last night. and the nights before that i s'ppose."

ofc you're highly tempted to slam the door in his face but kevlar boots hold it ajar while he smirks. "Our side of the city can get a little dangerous even with our territory expandin'. don'tcha think it's best to stay in my good graces?"

he thinks it's a shame that no one told a sweet thing like you about the dangerous stand-off between rival gangs in the area. your family had warned you about the motorcycle riders but most outside the city believed them to be an urban legend. but no, here you are in the middle of the crossfire and likely pissed off one of the big guns.

but wonwoo's actually quite fond of you. you slowly learn this and how dangerous he is after he begrudgingly takes you to see his leader - shooing nosy vernon who is hoverig. you're searching for your darn landlord to try and haggle a way to move out. somewhere safer.

"sweetheart, the safest you'll ever be is by jeon's side," seungcheol laughs with smoke billowing out of his mouth and you honestly think he's just fucking with you. "there's a target on your back and they already know what you look like."

well, shit.

"oh and don't bother about your landlord, my men wiped that bastard's existence off the streets for scammin' my boys... and people like you, i guess."

and so here you are and here you stay. surprisingly wonwoo doesn't push himself on you. instead, he exists like a stoic and quiet guard dog that lurks in the background that you just keep around. offering the smallest of smiles whenever you toss him a bone of attention that has your heart thumping and your gut twisting.

he hangs around the complex a lot more often, driving his bike a tad less which leads to a reduction in noise pollution and more sleep. though you start picking up the unforgettable hum of its engine whenever he casually shows up, close enough to watch over you getting off work but putting enough distance out of respect and to not rouse the rival gang's suspicion or intentions.

"besides," he tries to explain in a lazy drawl one night when you tentatively offer a beer and sit with him on your porch to ask. "you'd need to learn how to ride my bike and you have to get comfortable 'nough 'round me first to do that."

little do you both realize how wrapped around his finger - the physical one you just finished applying a fresh coat of black paint to - you are and vice versa.

you've lowered his high walls with your kind but spitfire nature and keeping his fridge filled with proper food/drinks and littered with more sticky notes. and he's pried open yours. not just with the fingers you'd disinfected, bandaged, and kissed easing gently in the wet heat between your legs that he has dreamt of since that fateful night and memorizing which spots make you moan the loudest. but also the quiet man who prefers the company of books rather than the fist fighting brawls he's always having to assist his gang brothers in.

but they are also his family, bonds forged by the blood spilled together rather than what runs in their veins. You can respect that, hands running across part of the gang symbol tattoo on his shoulder that will eventually reflect the back of his leather jacket - a matching one in the works for you, courtesy of seungcheol's partner.

you'd asked when he would get the rest of the elaborate design finished and he promises - with a kiss to your forehead and the dingy ring he'd given you (that's really a key ring twisted into a more flattering shape to fit your finger) - he would after saving up for few more years. lowkey, you still feel bad for yelling at him to buy a new motorcycle when he's so hard on money. by now, you've gotten used to the sound of the engine and the ride - of both the vehicle and the man.

for now, wonwoo is more than content with just your nails marking up his back instead and the warmth of your cheek pressed against it when he zooms through the city. although for his birthday, you put in a few extra hours and surprise him with a new bike - one that's engine roars obnoxiously loud!

yeah, he's completely in love with you and makes sure to baptize it with a mixture of your arousal and a couple cumstains that very night you gift it to him. the spot under the bridge, near the library that only you and him know about.

You always get the best angles of him but you're constantly saying it really doesn't have much to do with you doing anything above your normal job duties - he's literally just perfect.

"Look at how your big, chunky hands make your weeping dick look even bigger and chunkier. That's all you."

But ofc he insists it's truly thanks to your talents with a toothy grin.

He really is perfect though, you're just working with the art given to you... chiseled muscles, defined abs, sharp jawline, thick thighs, bulging biceps, veined forearms, long dark hair, and a perfect fucking cock - curved, girthy, and long in all the best ways. He's even got a sweet personality outside of whatever dirty character you'll assign to him.

"Am I doing things right? Being good enough for you?"

Oh yes, he is.

Zooming in on his cock all the time is insanely torturous. Adjusting the camera in all directions to get the most appealing view (which is hard to decided when there are so many) and directing the movements as he basically eye-fucks you while fisting that nice dick of his at the rhythms you're dictating.

You keep things professional bc that's what you are and you have many clients, actors, and sponsors... In fact, you're well respected in the porn community and frankly, you're not going to ruin that reputation with a momentary fling between one of your best stars. A crown you wear that, while burdensome, was earned through years of hard work, bad and good experiences, tough lessons, unsavory people, and long hours upon hours.

However, that all changes the night you come home to your boyfriend - after he visited you earlier on set with a different actor - stroking his cock to mingyu's latest video. His steamy glasses reflect the glaring shot of mingyu's beautiful cock and the fleshlight nearly falling apart with how hard his strong fingers squeeze around it.

Your shared bedroom is filled with the slick sounds of wonwoo's pants and the sinful moans coming from his huge speaker set-up. Thanks to the insane amount of lube you'd instructed mingyu to use while he bullies his way inside of the slippery toy, it's messy, wet, and loud. His whimpers and grunts echo and echo while all you can do is just re-envision his abs flexing and jaw clenched. Seeing them in real-life is different to the image on your partner's computer screen.

That moment goes back when you were wondering if behind those lust-filled eyes, mingyu was thinking of you and what your pussy might feel like. Knowing you were probably soaking your panties watching his hips thrust at erratic speeds but unable to do anything about it.

Luckily, wonwoo is always more than happy to assist you like the sweet, caring man that he is. His older audio streams were still popular, framed as the "cool-headed man" that had incredible stamina and could edge himself for hours on end. Yet, he crumbles beneath you, especially when you ride his tense thighs enthusiastically and then bounce on his cock even more enthusiastic whenever you're all riled up after an intense day of (mostly) well-endowed, cock filming.

And he knows you need to use him more than ever on days with mingyu. And his eyes sparkle at the tentative suggestion you make. Your boyfriend is no stranger to the adult videos you create, it's not unusual for him to watch and/or masturbate... you're just that good at your job - you weren't lying to mingyu.

Yet this is the first time he's show interest in the actor themselves starring in your camera lenses and not the premise alone. So, of course he's down to invite mingyu to bed... And even more obviously... the man in question himself is more than eager to agree.

but yet here he is, sitting on a disgusting couch at someone's trashy and loud house party. an alcoholic beverage in one hand and a coke zero in the other. the only reason he's here is because of you and the way he can never say no when you bat those pretty eyelashes at him and coo over how much you trust your beefy bodyguard to watch over your drink.

like always though, you leave him alone with the third fizzy coke zero of the night and holding whatever's left of the sordid mixture your friends mixed and convinced you to take when you arrived. it lays in his hand that's atop a bouncing knee as he waits, the condensation threatening to drip off his fingers and mess up his black jeans.

jihoon looks sexy as hell with dark, curly hair contrasting the loose, white button-down he has on. but the foreboding aura of utter disdain at being here makes everyone subconsciously give him a wide berth - which he's thankful for.

he's not really a bodyguard but he sure as hell could act like one.

especially when you finally reemerge from the crowd, stumbling over to him. you're giddy and high on adrenaline after dancing and frolicking to your hearts content. tits practically spilling out from your tiny lil tube top when you bend over, supporting yourself with hands placed on his thick thighs. the way other party-goers start to leer at your backside is probably due to the insanely short skirt you have on that was temptingly riding up.

the same skirt jihoon was asked five times if you looked good in when he came to pick you up. and he'd had to deal with an eyeful of your ass paraded in his face for about ten minutes too long for his poor, threadbare sanity.

"i'm feeling woozy," you giggle.

he sighs, placing the red solo cup off to the side. not caring where exactly or what happens to it because you're definitely not drinking anymore of that. now that he has a free hand, he uses it to tug you down onto his lap - effectively planting your softness against his firmness. ass supported on one strong thigh and legs perched on top of the other one, the side of your upper torso leaning against his chest.

you squeal in excitement, restless and shifting around. unwittingly grinding down on him and not stopping in the least when he places a warning hand on your hip to halt your movement. that only makes you squirm even more.

"drink this," he instructs and hands you his coke zero.

"it's too fizzy," you pout and suddenly you're holding onto his broad shoulders for some stability. breasts squishing directly against his as you cling to him and pitifully whine, "make it better for me, ji."

it doesn't help that he can feel the way there's a wet spot collecting on his pants and it's definitely not from the drinks. it takes everything in him to try and desperately suck in some amount of air to collect himself with the knowledge that your panty-clad cunt is leaking onto him.

"and how d'ya suppose i do that?"

your bottom lip juts out as you try to form your logic. "suck on it." oh he would. "make the sting go away." well, he can't promise that -

"you need to sober up."

he nearly shoves you off his lap to render any ideas of kissing you (and more) null, especially when you mumble something along the lines of "i'm wet already" and sternly instructs you to stay put while he finds some water.

you nod and smile, "i'll be good for you," and he groans.

"you're anything but good."

and he's right because it doesn't take even two steps away before you're clinging onto him again, nails digging into his large biceps.

"take me with you, don't wanna be alone," you hiccup and blink those damn eyelashes at him. "my favorite person ever."

of course he relents. pulling you into the quieter kitchen area and doing his best to ignore your tits that have magnetized to his arm.

jihoon doesn't manage to untangle himself away from you but once he gets some water, it's a relief that you take it and drink without saying anything else that will give him more of a headache and hard-on.

"would it be alright if i took you home now?"

"yeah, this party is boring!"

"that's what i keep telling you."

"no one wants to fuck me," you complain and he tilts his head, mouth opening tentatively. "everyone thinks we're fucking instead!"

it shuts and he clears his throat before reminding, "you can tell them the truth."

"but then i think about if we did." you're too far gone to realize he ends up choking on his saliva. "i also think about how good your hair would be to pull while you're between my legs."

"... i, uh, i didn't know you felt that way."

"it's all your fault! being hot and caring and everything even if you like to think you act cool and unbothered."

"sure, yeah. my bad."

"you're bad and big. and i bet your dick is too!" you gasp in realization. "will you show it to me?"

"not sure what you mean by bad but no, i won't show it to you."

"jihoon," and then you're fluttering your eyelashes again and he has a suspicion you absolutely know what that does to him.

little vixen.

"no. absolutely not."

"what if i'm sober?"

he hums noncommittally and sarcastically agrees. "oh yeah, totally."

"that's a promise. and i'm totally sober right now, fyi."

"you want me to flash everyone here? are you trying to get me to act like a creep?"

"oh. no. no, no, no. someone might take my big cock away and then i'll never be happy."

jihoon sighs, flicking your forehead before he walks with you to the door to go outside. "don't worry, i'll always make sure you're satisfied even if it's just emotionally."

"i know, you're the best. just one of the many reasons i keep you around."

even though he knows you likely won't remember most of this conversation (hopefully), he does know that you're speaking the full truth in at least that statement. the rest can follow in a more... proper sequence.

"yeah, yeah. now get some rest, you idiot. i'll wake you up when we're at your place."

and you drift off in a content, half-drunk doze while he drives. knowing you're always going to be safe with jihoon, the tame beast he plays for now that would do anything to better your welfare.

the kind of person that fondly watches you sleep, parked outside where you live and waiting a bit until he alerts you of the arrival just to savor these precious moments under the starlight when it's just you and him.

but one day - yes, one day soon - you're gonna find a way to unleash the wild animal that lies beneath ready to ravage and serve you in an entirely different manner.

that's the man that jerks off in his bed alone to the thought of your warm, wet pussy snug against his leg - imagining all the sinful things he could do with you. well, he's always been patient. it won't be long until he can encourage you to drag your hips across his thigh and have you worship his thick cock with your pretty mouth.

for as long as you can remember he's been by your side. you've swung on the swings side by side, walked together to the school bus stop, sat together in every class, moved in and out of the city to chase your respective dreams, and now have settled down in a cute neighborhood. you've spent every moment together and unlike some might think - it never gets old.

he's like your rock and safe place. you only see each other when you're both home - but considering you work remotely and he spends a suspicious amount of time talking on the phone in his kitchen-turned-office... well, it's no different than your college flatmate days.

Though this time there's a whole building to separate you from each other and not just a couple of rooms and walls.

you'd think that's a better arrangement but it's not. especially when he knocks on your door before dusk for your weekly walk down to the grocery store. like always, he sweetly asks how your day was - eyes never daring to stray from your own even with you wearing nothing but a comfy t-shirt that just barely covers your bare legs.

even tho you really want to slam the door petulantly in his face, you leave it ajar - scowling and stomping off to find proper clothes. joshua closes it genteelly behind him and hums his infamous comfort song while he waits, not venturing further from the entrance despite the free show he'll likely get of you changing carelessly. or maybe on purpose. even as roommates, he's never walked in on you.

when you emerge back out from your room, your attire really isn't all that different - although you actually have shorts on this time even if they barely cover your ass. like clockwork, joshua shrugs off his jean jacket and lays it to sit in the crease of your elbow to carry. he knows you'll eventually get chilly from the evening breeze which is actually an excuse to simply cuddle his jacket in your arms and smell his cologne.

joshua's always nice to you, ever the gentleman. sometimes you wished he'd be a little mean. slap you around a bit. like you know he did to the people he'd bring back to your shared home and into his bed throughout the university years. you're a bit on the wild side too (ahem, broken bed frame) so you think he either doesn't want to disturb the friendship balance you're perfectly fine disrupting OR even more terribly, he doesn't find you attractive.

it's sad. often you wonder if he's ever noticed the way you squeeze your thighs together when he scolds you for staying out too late drinking at bars and to hurry home with him. stripping your outerwear off and manhandling you under your sheets with a hangover remedy on the nightstand when you wake up and a check-in scold early next morning before work starts.

but joshua causally holds your hand as usual on the way back from the store, swinging it in opposite time with the full bags of snacks and drinks held in the other. your sour attitude doesn't affect his cheerful mood because he thinks the stars shine brighter, the sleeping flower petals look a bit more vibrant, and the air a generally feels little sweeter all because he's by your side where he has always belonged.

his little grin grows wider on his face as he watches you - observing how over the years your pouty, bratty behavior grows - enjoying the way he can work you up until he breaks you.

oh, and he will. when he's had enough of you slamming doors and drawers around the kitchen one weekend afternoon after feeling snubbed once more at your attempt to seduce your dumb best friend.

you find yourself whirled away from where you were glaring daggers into the poor cupboard, pinned against the counter top, and caged between joshua's arms. face almost pressing against his broad chest that heaves with restrained annoyance. he brushes your earlobe with his large thumb, clicking his tongue as his thigh slots between yours.

"you have to be careful not to hurt yourself, sweetheart. it'd break my heart if anything bad happened to you... anything made you cry." now he strokes your cheek, looking incredibly worried before it abruptly changes to a harsh scowl. "except you want me to make you cry. tired of me playing nice, begging me to be mean to my sweet friend."

and you just gaze at him with those pretty eyes and his lips curl. a light slap to your cheek, it lacks any malice behind it and doesn't hurt. but it makes your lips part and he hooks his thumb between them, eyes narrowing. encouraging you to speak, despite it coming out mispronounced due to the finger in your mouth.

"nasty little thing, aren't you?"

it certainly kills him when you give him your consent - he knew all along what you wanted. bending you over and stretching you out with his long fingers buried deep inside your cunt after a couple of slaps to your ass and clit. then prepping you with his tongue after helping you up on the counter with such shaky legs that he has to hold away from wrapping around his head that's in between them to now devour your pussy.

edging you both times so when he finally thinks you just might deserve his cock, you're instantly coming undone the minute its large tip brushes against your wet folds.

and your sweet joshua has to turn mean, mean, mean - clicking his tongue and shaking his head in faux disappointment. degrading you for being such a whore for him - and while yes, you're a good whore for him - he needs you to behave and listen to first like the lovely darling he knows you are. and he's going to start all over until you can obey his orders of when you can cum.

he's kissing your tears away, reminding you that this is what you wanted as if your tight walls aren't squeezing around him even tighter every time he has to restart. you love it. and joshua's intent to have you on every surface of his house. and yours next.

he's helpful and much more neighborly than the former owners. he offers assistance if you have a heavy load of groceries because he has double the strength of a normal man with enhanced genes and low-key enjoys flexing it for you. he also has a thing for analyzing and putting stuff together - displayed by the various furniture and decor you like to buy and assemble with him around.

of course, he's entirely content to just laze around, cracking his jaw while he yawns and observes you working on it. not wanting to take the joy away from what you wanted to do yourself. however, if you huff cutely and ask for help, he's more than happy to assist - having already figured out where the piece you're struggling with goes because he's endearing annoying like that.

you're not exactly sure when it happened but you've grown so comfortable around him. he makes you feel safe. even when he flashes a toothy smile your way, dangerously sharp canines on display - and yet you don't feel a shred of fear.

which is why you don't hesitate to ask if you can touch one of them - entranced by their wicked shape. and of course, he lets you. widening his jaw in a way that doesn't spook you (though that doesn't even cross your mind) and his eyes narrow as a weird sense of joy fills him, rumbling in his chest and turning into a purr of encouragement.

when your fingers brush a little too tenderly on his chin, cradling his face now as you're still so mesmerized by his large tooth - his purr turns to a groan and his lips instinctively wrap around the finger in his mouth and suckles on it, teeth nipping into the skin with care. his eyes shift from soft brown to a rich orange that glows with desire. and he growls ever so slightly causing your breath to halt.

and then suddenly he releases your finger and the moment's gone. hoshi jokes about giving you a tooth to hang around your neck much like the one he has of his late mother's. you find the sentiment sort of sweet if not terribly morbid and forget all about what just happened because even if it's the first time you're sitting on his lap, it feels so natural to you.

it doesn't register until a couple days later when you actively do not see hoshi at all. like whatsoever. you might've thought he moved out or something if you didn't see an occasional light on and his car parked stationary in the driveway.

there's only one explanation. he's sick.

it's only happened a few times since you've met but every once in a while he gets a terribly bad fever and is knocked out of commission for days. but you're obviously worried and bang adamantly at his door with the threat of not going away unless you physically see him to make sure he's okay.

he doesn't want to answer but he also can't resist you so he begrudgingly opens up - tiny ears flat against his matted hair and a sweaty sheen coating his unclothed upper body. you remember the first time you saw the pigmented stripes covering his shoulders. your eyes trace the patterns that ripple in time with his labored inhale of air.

you want to come in, waving the container of broth you'd warmed for him but as tempting as that is (and you), he has to refuse. you can't be around him in this state. he can't be near you like this. so rather coldly, he refuses and slams the door in your face. a small grin lifting the corner of his mouth that isn't held down by his teeth at your ferociousness at being left outside without being properly answered.

oh, if you only understood. though when you rattle the doorknob aggressively one more time out of concern, he finally rasps out, "you need to leave now because you're ovulating, and your dumb cunt is begging me to stretch it out and fill it up. it's taking everything within me to not tear this door off its hinges and claim you immediately. and i can't do that to you. not like this. do you understand now?"

it's silent. and he breathes out a sad sigh of relief. he's scared you off. good.

until he takes the following inhale and smells your sweet scent still, suddenly ten times stronger than before and it would've knocked him off his feet if he wasn't leaning his entire body weight on the door frame.

he swears. and you whisper against the door so only he can hear with his heightened senses. "let me in, hosh. my pussy's dripping all for you."

he growls, flinging the door open so hard it nearly does fly off with his strength. having the decency to at least set the broth down somewhere so it doesn't spill. but then he's slamming you against the wall, agile speed allowing him to pull out his barbed dick and wedge it in between your puffy pussy folds.

and you're cumming already with a cry as his teeth dig into your neck, ridges of his cock hitting all the right spots as it slides in. there's no need to gift you a necklace when the marks on your neck are enough of a pretty sign that you're his. and he proudly bears the scratches you dig into his skin and chest. punctuating his claims with harsh thrusts though he promises will be slower, gentler next round.

everyone thinks he's a big partier, and honestly it would annoy the shit out of you if he wasn't keeping you occupied. fucking you on every surface of his AND your place. big, thick cock hitting that spot that has you seeing stars every. single. time.

your throat's constantly sore and scratchy - not from having his dick stuck down your throat (that occasionally happens) - but because he's got you yelling, screaming, crying, squirting, and delirious all the damn time. you have no shame in being LOUD as hell because you almost have no choice but to express with high-volume sound how sinfully wonderful he makes you feel.

so you're grateful he's got one of his favorite playlists booming while you sit on his face or are bent over the counter while he rams into you with unforgiving thrusts. and you don't feel as embarrassed or the need to be polite and quiet, especially when the windows are open.

not that you can think with how dick-drunk and dumb you are.

bonus points if it's a slow, sensual song or just one about sex - he's licking or drilling into you, perfectly hitting that spot to the tempo of each one that plays and the bass/vibrations of the speakers pleasantly shudder through your entire body.

oh, p.s. - he's probably just as loud. grunting and groaning whenever you tug at his hair or scratch his back. he also growls and snarls out the dirtiest shit with a mean laugh while he spanks you and calls you all sorts of names.