--🩷--

'This is it, isn't it?' You breathed, looking round the back yard at the pool and the sliding glass doors into the house. 'The Cody house?'

'Dude, you good? Or are you one 'those mental chicks?' Craig asked.

'Don't call her that,' Pope murmured quietly, his lips barely moving over the words.

'Well, she is!' Craig was exasperated.

'If you're not with Mike's crew, then who do you work for?' Deran asked, using a flick knife to clean his nails and looking pointedly at you.

'No one,' you breathed, surprised.

'No one?' Deran scoffed, pointing the knife in your general direction.

'Bullshit,' Craig rose. 'Fuck this.'

He started over towards you, a gleam entering his eye that struck fear into you.

'Leave her alone, man.' Pope mumbled.

Craig didn't stop.

'Hey. I said stop.' Pope's voice got louder physically, but the words were quiet. A warning.

Craig stopped mid-step and turned to face Pope.

'She's either lying or fucking nuts. I wanna know which!'

He looked back at you.

'Which? Cos if it's the second... I'm down if you are.'

Your nose wrinkled in disgust and your eyes flicked to Pope. His own eyes had hardened, his face set, a fist clenching and unclenching by his side.

'C'mere,' he indicated with his head for you to stand and follow him.

'Where you takin' her now?' Deran asked, annoyed.

'We're gonna talk in private.' Pope replied, one hand gripping around the top of your arm. It was firm but not painful. 'Without you two fucking idiots.'

Craig and Deran looked at each other.

'I know he ain't talkin' 'bout us,' Craig set up another line, and you were instantly forgotten.

Deran's eyes narrowed at your retreating back.

--🩷--

You were sat in the red, sunken living room. The red, sunken living room. You could hardly contain your excitement.

Pope's eyes carefully watched you look around in wonder, taking it all in.

'I've seen you,' he murmured.

When you looked at him, his gaze was piercing. You felt your heart stutter under the intensity of it. You blinked and had to look away.

'I've seen you following me.' He repeated. When you didn't respond, he put his head on one side to maintain eye contact with you. 'Hey.. pay attention.'

You hadn't realised he had noticed you tracking his movements. Of course he did. You still didn't say anything.

Pope moved to sit on the low coffee table in front of you. There was barely enough room between it and your knees as it was.

Undeterred, Pope sat. His thick, warm legs pressed against yours; his knees almost resting atop of yours.

He waited for you to speak, staring steadily into your eyes.

You couldn't believe this was happening. Sat across from the Pope Cody, gazing into his hazel eyes.

He was so close you could see the light dusting of auburn freckles across his nose. His shoulders almost slumped under the weight of his traps and thick neck, but his back was ramrod straight.

'You don't work for Mike.'

It wasn't a question.

'No.' You replied softly.

'You're a tenant.'

Also not a question.

'Yes,' you whispered.

Pope let a silence hang.

Your eyes looked over his beautiful, freckled face. Your eyes flicked between each of his, watching as his gaze became a little less steady. God, you loved him.

'So why are you following me?'

His mouth barely moved around the words, which were flat and void of any emotion.

'H-how did you know?' Genuine surprise flashed across your face.

Pope just tilted his head to one side, throwing you a look as if to say, duh obviously I would.

You weren't sure if this was down to his acute attention to his surroundings or your sloppy sleuthing skills. Probably both.

'I just wanted to talk to you.' You whispered.

Pope didn't believe you. No one wanted to just talk to him. They wanted him to fix things, to do horrific things, and then go away. A beautiful, sweet girl like you, who always paid her rent on time and never gave him any trouble, wouldn't want to just talk to him.

'No - really?' Pope pressed for the actual truth.

You looked into his eyes. 'I just wanted to talk to you,' you repeated.

Pope scratched the back of his neck, catching the auburn curls in his fingers, stumped.

The silence in the sunken living room was defeaning.

Pope didn't know what to do with that. Seeing you outside Deran's bar, leaning back in your seat and your sunglasses pulled down low, was a massive giveaway. You used your own car, for fuck's sake. Your own plates.

'Did you bug my apartment?'

'No.'

'The bar?'

'No.'

'My car?'

'Andrew - no.'

The use of Andrew caught him off guard. The way the word sounded, so soft and natural off your tongue, overwhelmed him. He wanted to hear you say his name that way again and again, and again.

He stood up quickly. 'You need to leave.'

You rose from the sofa also, bewildered by the sudden change in his demeanour.

'Oh-kay?'

Pope couldn't believe that this wasn't manipulation.

There still wasn't a lot of space in front of the coffee table. You briefly pressed against Pope's body. He was warm, burning hot against your skin. His bare, freckled bicep flexed as he clenched his fist by his side. You saw the freckles dusted across the prominent veins, the main one leading down to his wrist. Pope's waist was near your hips; his belt buckle almost pressing into your stomach. Pope coughed and brushed past you to make a quick exit, and you felt the denim of his jeans against your side. If you knew him better, you would think he was half-hard. Oh my God...

'I'll walk you out.' Pope's voice was steel now, and you had no choice but to follow.

Craig and Deran tracked your movements from the sliding glass door to the garage. You didn't even look at them. The fun had gone. Pope hated you. You'd gone too far. Now you'd never know what that sullen mouth tasted like. Not in the morning when he was still soft around the edges from sleep. Not when he came in from a job, collapsing all of his weight on top of you, and his mouth finding yours, eating at you hungrily. Not on your wedding day, when he'd taste of icing and forever.

Pope watched you get into your car with folded arms, which bulged in a very unfair way. His thick legs were spread apart in that straight, bow-legged posture he brought to the function. His hazel eyes never left your face, even when you put on your sunglasses to hide the tears, which were falling despite yourself. You sniffled, pull yourself together. Pope saw and nearly faltered, but he managed to keep his face stoic and his chin lifted.

You reversed out of the drive, feeling that empty, shark-eyed stare upon you.

You kind of missed feeling it as soon as you were up the road.

--🩷--

Pope followed you. Of course he did.

He used a clean car and cruised by your apartment, slowing night down outside the first time he passed. The lights were on and the blinds were not drawn. Pope shook his head. That was something he was going to have to teach you. If you let him, that is. If he could believe you. He let himself have the fantasy for a second. Him coming home after a job, covered in blood. The apartment lights would be off (with the blinds drawn) because you were already asleep in bed. His bed. Pope would try not to wake you. He'd climb in behind you, feel the warmth of your body as the mattress dipped under his weight and brought you closer. He would put an arm around your soft waist, smelling like fabric softener and sleep. Pope would smell your hair and you'd turn and look at him, brows furrowing in both concern and relief, and reach up to his mouth and... stop. He could feel his cock stiffening against his thigh. Pope palmed it down and carried on driving.

--🩷--

'I need to check you're not wearing a wire.' Pope's raspy voice was low and gravelly. You stood and gravely took off your jacket, pulling down the top of your shirt. Pope swallowed thickly and couldn't meet your eyes. 'All of it.' He tried to convince himself that he was applying the thorough diligence he brought to every aspect of his life, but he couldn't quite believe it. You paused until he lifted his eyes to yours in question. Then you slowly crossed your arms and pulled your shirt over your head.

Pope couldn't hide his sharp intake of breath. Your breasts were covered by a thin, lacy bralette. Your soft tummy and hips slightly spilled over your jeans. You were perfect. 'D'ya need to check there's nothing taped to my breasts?' You asked in a sultry tone, matching his low and quiet register.

Pope swallowed again. 'No... no, I believe you.'

'What about my jeans? What if there's one taped to my thigh?'

You'd pushed it too far. Pope's eyes immediately snapped to your face from your chest. His eyes looked between each of yours. You could feel the tension settle heavy in the air between you.

'No.' Pope's voice came out harsher than he intended. You couldn't stop a small wince from flashing across your face before you controlled it. Pope instantly felt guilty. This was new to him; Pope never felt guilty. Self-hatred, yes, regret, anger, overwhelming depression, violent... but never guilty. He wasn't sure what was different about you, but sitting across from him in a bra wasn't helping. He shifted on the sofa to rearrange himself. You were kind enough to pretend not to notice.

'You wanted to talk.' Pope's voice was entirely neutral, and it drove you nuts. 'So talk.'

'I can help with a new job,' you nodded eagerly as you spoke. 'I was thinkin-'

'No.' Pope's bark was even sharper than the last. He started to stand. You reached a hand out to touch his thigh. Big mistake. Pope's eyes instantly shot down, grabbing a hold of your wrist. His grip wasn't painful; just firm.

'But why? You haven't even heard-'

'I said no.' Pope shook his head. 'You're not family.'

You paused. Pope's fingers were still wrapped easily around your wrist.

'But I can-'

'One more word and I swear to God,' Pope's right cheek muscle twitched and it made his nose crinkle like a bunny. Fuck, he was sexy.

Pope told himself it was because it needed to stay in the family, in the circle of trust, and outsiders were never welcome. But a small part of him was alarmed at the thought of you crossing into his world, and putting yourself in danger. It was not an option.

He knew what he had to do.

Pope rose, gently letting go of your wrist.

'Don't text me anymore.' He mumbled. 'Which, by the way, you still haven't explained how you got my number.'

You started to speak but he shook his head. 'I don't wanna know. Just... just stay away from me.'

Pope made his way to your door. For such a large man, he could move fast. 'I'm no good.' The last words were so gentle you barely heard them.

Then he was gone.

--🩷--

You thought you heard footsteps behind you. When you turned, there was no one there. You continued, searching in your bag for your keys and holding them between your fingers, metal prong facing outwards.

Your heart pounds in your chest. You shouldn't be here on this side of town, on this street, at this time of night.

None of your friends know where you are, or you'd have to admit to why.

You'd been tailing Deran and lost him round a corner; there had been too many routes he could have taken.

You were suddenly tackled from behind, one large arm around your waist, effortlessly holding you in place, and one arm wrapped around your neck. A large bicep squeezed against your windpipe and a palm covered your whole mouth.

'Don't you dare fuckin' scream,' a low, rough voice growled. You recognised that voice.

A glint of metal in the streetlights and a precise chill against your neck. You were dragged into an alley entranceway.

'On your knees.'

A thick, strong hand pushed you down onto the dirty cement.

'You need to be more aware of your surroundings.' A monotone growl.

'How did you even know where I was?' You asked, incredulous.

A pregnant pause.

'Location tracker.'

'You've been watching me watching you?'

'Exactly.' Pope's breath was warm on your neck.

Pope was in a balaclava, black gloves on, and the front of his shirt was splattered in blood. It was all down his hand and wrist, which he is spiralling your hair in. You didn't think it was his blood because you couldn't see a wound or him wincing. It was so fucking hot. You wanted it all over you.

'D'ya see how trusting you are? How much more vigilant you need to be?' Pope was exasperated. There were dangerous people around. Imagine if he was someone with dark intentions? 'Need you to be careful.'

Was that... concern?

'This is why you can't do a job,' Pope went to pull the balaclava from his face.

'No!' You whined from your knees, looking up at him. 'Leave it on.'

Pope growled but his hand dropped from the fabric. He put the knife back in his pocket.

'You have no self-awareness. You walk down the street without checking your surroundings. You even leave your blinds open, for fuck's sake.' You exasperated him.

'My blinds?' You blinked. 'How do you know about my blinds?'

Fuck.

'I-I... I was passing through the other night and happened to see.' Pope coughed.

'Oh really?' You looked delighted. Pope cursed. 'You just 'happened to see' into my apartment?'

'I never said into,' Pope mumbled.

'Is there any reason I'm still on my knees?'

'Well, yeah,' Pope stumbled. You started to smile. 'Not that.'

Your smile dropped.

'I'm showing you what it's like to be attacked.'

'Oh no. Please stop. Someone help me.' Your voice was monotone and sarcastic. 'I'm being forced to converse about soft furnishings.'

Behind the balaclava, the corner of Pope's lip curved upwards despite himself.

'It's dark. It's late. You're out of your car.' Pope shook his head. 'What am I going to do with you?'

You started to answer and Pope held up a hand. 'Stop.'

It almost had a playful tone... almost.

'Let's go back to your car... or I'll tie you up and carry you to it myself.'

Your eyes lit up.

'C'mon.' Pope held out an arm for you to stand.

You accepted and stood. 'Yes, daddy.'

Pope made a wounded sound.

He shifted slightly on the spot. 'Stop that.'

You smirked, already knowing that Pope was beetroot behind the dark balaclava.

'Stop what?' You asked coyly, fluttering your eyelashes. 'Agreeing with you? Or calling you daddy?'

Your voice went soft and seductive on the last word. Pope tried to hide a groan and dipped his knees slightly, like standing became suddenly painful for him.

'Don't call me that,' Pope's voice was pained and quiet.

You looking directly into his eyes before your gaze dropped to his mouth. It was highlighted against the rest of his covered face. Your eyes then dropped to his hips, where his large hands were crossed in front of himself.

'Whatever you say... daddy.'

Pope growled and took hold of your arm, walking slightly funny.

He tugged you towards the entrance of the alleyway and towards your parked car. His truck was parked behind it. 'I like you being behind me,' you said, head nodding towards the cars.

'You never know when to shut your fuckin' mouth.'

'Mhmm, a very big plus to dating me,' you gave him a sultry wink. 'I know I'm not a Cody. Let me prove myself. At least bring me to dinner. Hear out my plan.'

'You're trouble, you know that?' Pope shook his head, still covered by a balaclava as you requested.

'Exactly. Put me in, coach.'

--🩷--

pope had seen you at the bus stop. he had never swerved his truck so fast. parking up ahead, fuck the ticket, and jogging back down the pavement so as not to miss the bus. he didn't care where it was going. he stood behind you, smelling your perfume as it wafted backwards from your hair. he was half-hard already.

he could see over your shoulder. you were texting some guy. josh 🩷 well that would have to stop once you were his. he'd have to delete his contact out of your phone, maybe pay josh a little visit. he sounded creepy.

~ have a good day at work baby x

~ yea k. u 2

josh isn't good enough for you. but he'll help you realise that.

you fish in your bag for your purse. you won't have to do that anymore. he'll pay for it. you won't need to take the bus. he'll buy you a car you'll never need to use cos he'll just drive you around everywhere. not to work, though... no, you can give that up.

standing room only. excellent. he shuffled on and murmured whatever you'd said.

he shouldered a guy out of his way to stand behind you. he was fully hard now, it was painfully tenting in his jeans. he pressed up behind you as far as was socially acceptable. you looked up at him and flashed him a tired smile before looking away.

it's not his fault he was shuffling against you, brushing against your shoulder. or that your hair smelled so good. his hard cock finally rested against your ass. he nearly moaned in relief. it could have been the thick corner of a briefcase or a handbag. it could have been... but it wasn't.

pope made a strangled noise as a woman pushed into him from behind and he staggered forwards. fuck, your skirt was thin. was that a thong you were wearing? he couldn't make out the colour.

with the trundling of the bus sending vibrations throughout your body, his cock was vibrating as it pressed insistently against your ass. his drooling tip was starting to leak through his jeans. he hoped it didn't leave a creamy mark on your skirt (except he kinda did). pope was getting close. he shouldn't be doing this. it was filthy. literally criminal. but you looked like that... what was he supposed to do?

vibrating against your ass, he closed his eyes, wondering how hard he was going to cum when he finally got back in his truck from... wherever he was. you leaned back to make room for someone getting off the bus. you nearly got him off. pope bit down on his lip really hard and clenched his fists to stay in control.

his eyes were starting to roll back. his jeans were actually hurting him as his blunt tip bullied the metal zipper.

and then the bus slammed its brakes on.

you fell backwards into him. pope caught you, holding you up by your arms, but your ass slammed against his crotch. it was game over.

pope let out a very noticeable grunt close to your ear and came in his pants.

he could do nothing but stand still, eyes rolling, as waves of pleasure took over him and sprays of cum covered the inside of his boxers.

pope sighed in relief as he finished draining himself; balls nice and empty. the front of his boxers were gooey.

you froze, perfectly aware that this stranger had relieved himself onto you. but he didn't seem like he cared. in fact, he had a dreamy smile on his freckled face.

'you're sick, you know that??'

people were watching.

'i've been told.'

'no one seems that shocked yet. but this is oceanside. let me clean you up.' you sank to your knees.

'you look so good down there, baby.' pope groaned. 'let everyone see how good you make me feel with your pretty little mouth.'

--🩷--

'Baaaay-beeee,' Sammy called to you in a sing-song voice as you messed with the lamps, turning your sitting room into a soft glow. 'Sammyyyy,' you replied, sitting on the other side of the sofa. He turned to look at you, hazel eyes confused, and his freckled face frowning. 'I need you,' he whined. 'Come sit closer to me.' You smiled at him, already with a plan in mind. 'I know you do, baby,' you leant over do scratch at the golden curls near his ear. Sammy let out a soft moan and leaned into your fingers; hard.

His breathing had changed slightly; a little faster than normal and coming out through parted lips rather than his nose. Sammy's open mouth framed by his soft, plump lips in contrast to his half-lidded eyes made him look innocent; trusting. You were preparing to ruin that.

'Please,' Sammy's gravelly, low voice almost sounded like a whimper. 'Come over here. Touch me.'

You stopped scratching his head and he chased after your fingers for a few inches. He looked at you in obvious betrayal.

You scooted over and snuggled under his arm. Sammy sighed in obvious relief and pushed his face into your hair. You wrapped your arms around his chubby tummy, creasing the white shirt he was wearing, and let the stress of his day melt away. '... turn me on so fuckin' much,' Sammy growled, squeezing your side. 'You're so warm,' you murmured into his armpit, smelling his deodorant and fresh sweat. It made a shiver run through you. 'Closer,' Sammy demanded, and you cuddled in harder with a leg wrapped around his thick thigh. Sammy tried, and failed, to stifle a soft moan. As the hand around his tummy rubbed against his ribs, you felt Sammy stiffening against your leg. His hardening cock pressed insistently against the top of your knee. It was hot and solid through his suit pants; every inch resting heavily against you. You teased him; purposefully moving your knee a fraction just to watch it twitch. It pulsed upwards, rearing its head as far up towards Sammy's face as the tight fabric would allow. Sammy groaned softly against your ear; breath hot and heavy. 'Baby,' Sammy whispered in a strangled voice. 'Yeah?' You whispered back, keeping your knee frustratingly still. Sammy tried to move his hips and chase the friction against your leg. Surely he wasn't desperate enough to try and hump your leg? But yes, yes he was.

'Take me out, babe,' Sammy pleaded. His cock jerked upwards again by itself.

'I wanna watch you touch yourself,' your voice quiet and dangerous. Sammy's muscles stiffened. 'You-you do?'

'Yeah.' You looked up at him, smiling and sweet. Sammy's pupils had widened and his top teeth ran over his bottom lip. 'I wanna watch you make yourself feel good.'

Sammy's pillowy face broke into a shy smile. ''kay, babe.' His right hand moved to his suit pant waistband and his chubby fingers began undoing the top button.

'Nuh-huh,' you shook your head, 'over your pants.' You went to move your leg from off of his thigh but his large hand came down and stilled your knee. 'Please stay,' he whispered.

You relented, thinking it would help him feel less self-conscious and came with the added bonus to remain within teasing proximity. 'Show me,' you encouraged, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Sammy looked down at you over his chubby cheeks and nodded quickly. As his large palm first landed over his bulge, he let out a soft grunting sound he couldn't cover. You smiled, already pleased with yourself.

'What would you normally do if you were thinking of me?' Your voice was low; sultry. 'Let me see you touch yourself and feel good.'

Sammy gave a large swallow and nodded, beginning to move his palm up and down his chubby cock, pressing down slightly. He tried to stifle moans but they rumbled from somewhere deep in his chest. You played with a button on his shirt before leaning back, keeping your hands to yourself, and watched his eyelashes fluttering.

'Keep looking at me,' you whispered. Sammy groaned again and made burning eye contact. You could see when he touched himself just right and the pleasure flickered in his irises. His thick fingers struggled to grip around his chubby cock through his dress pants, and he was growing frustrated. Sammy let out a 'mmmf', and thrust his hips forwards.

'You're so big, Sammy,' you whispered, voice thick and cracking. 'Mmmhmmm,' Sammy nodded, too quickly, and pleaded with you using his best bedroom eyes.

'If I say you can touch yourself over your boxers, will you be good and not cum?' Your tone ended as a warning. Sammy sometimes gets himself all excited and finishes too early, earlier than he wants and is proud of; either in your mouth or after finally sinking into your warm, wet cunt, involuntarily filling you with his cum and a squeak before flushing red.

'Yes, yes, anything... just please,' Sammy begged. You nodded and he unbuttoned his pants quicker than you'd ever seen him before.

He sighed in relief, shoulders shuddering, as he pulled himself free from his slacks. He didn't bother taking them off; just pushing them down far enough to release his cock. His big, aching balls spilled into the bottom of his pants.

You bit your lip as you watched his cock spring free. There was a damp, sticky smear across the front of his grey boxers. 'Uhhh-hhhh-hhh,' Sammy let out a wounded groan, his raspy voice lowering and becoming rougher as he became more sensitive without the trousers. You tried to hold back a smile. 'You gonna smirk at me like this doesn't turn you the fuck on?' Sammy asked with a raised an eyebrow, biting his lip so hard it drew blood. 'Are you really gonna sass me right now?' You challenged. 'No, ma'am,' Sammy replied quickly. 'That's what I thought,' you flashed him a bigger smirk. Sammy moaned at your teasing and rubbed his cock back and forth.

'Tell me what you're thinking about,' you whispered, watching as his long, thick fingers tried to meet in the middle. 'About you,' Sammy flushed red, his breathing increasing. You could feel his heart banging in his chest. 'About your pretty little pussy. About how good you taste when I sink ahhhh between your legs and first oh fffuck lick up you to your cl-cl-clitttt.' Sammy's hand is moving faster up and down his length, hanging heavy and painfully between his legs. 'Yeah?' You whisper, 'and what else?' You lean in and lick a thick stripe up his warm neck and along his puffy jaw, leaving soft little kisses. Sammy lets out a whimper and his hand stills. You pause beneath his ear. 'Keep going.'

'Um and um when you- oh god shittt...' you begin sucking the sensitive skin on his slightly wrinkled neck, scraping down it with your teeth and then licking to soothe the mark. His cock throbs painfully in his fist. Sammy curls his fist closed. It was nowhere near as good as your warm, wet, tight cunt but it'd have to do. You watch his hips begin to thrust upwards until he was fucking into his fist. '... and when you sink on me-eeeey for the f-f-first time and you- oh fuck me... begin grinding against my hips and I start f-f-fucking up-pppp into you.'

You watch Sammy's fist turn slightly before the pull back, seeing how he touches himself when you're not there. Sammy's struggling, his breathing becoming more ragged and his chest heaving. You watch him closely, waiting until you see the telltale signs of his thighs tensing below your knee, his toes clenching down into the carpet, and a small whine escaping his throat.

'Are you gonna cum, Sammy?' You whisper, covering his sensitive neck in kitten licks. 'Oh fuckkk... no?' His voice wobbled, giving himself away completely. 'You better not,' you warn, knowing what that will do to him. As planned, the teasing giving and then the threat of taking it away meant a pulse of pleasure crinkled in his heavy balls. Sammy shook his head wildly, trying to quieten the moans falling from his mouth, his eyelids fluttering closed. Knowing he can't cum, well, that just tipped him over the edge. 'Ohhh... fuck... mmmmf.' You watched Sammy desperately try to fight his incoming orgasm. 'Ohhhh... oh God... baby- baby it feels so good. I'm gonna cum... fuck I'm gonna-' 'Stop.' You instructed, stilling his fist. You are so careful not to touch his skin under his boxers, knowing that would make him blow his load instantly. Sammy let out a devastated cry but obeyed. He bit back down on his lip; one eye half-rolled into his head with the effort of not cumming in his boxers.

'Please,' Sammy whined, which trailed off into a whimpering sound.

'Please what?' You ask in an innocent voice, your fingers trailing over the inside of his bare thighs. Sammy shuddered at the contract. 'Don't,' he shook his head. 'Don't do that. If you don't stop, I'll cum all over myself.'

You could feel yourself soaking your panties at his desperate want for you. The wet patch on his boxers had gotten bigger with pre-cum.

'You should pull them down now.' Your voice came out more strangled than you meant it to. Sammy quickly started pawing at his boxers with a chubby, freckled hand. He moaned in relief as his thick cock sprang up and slapped softly against his round tummy. The cool air of the room soothed it a little. You looked at the pre-cum with hungry eyes. The blunt tip of his cock was an angry purple, thick and and a defined mushroom at the end of a wide stalk. You leant in, pushing your head near the auburn thatch of pubic hair. Sammy held his breath. You gave one wide lick, tongue gently playing against the hole as you went, and scooped the pre-cum into your mouth. Sammy groaned loudly, his fingers finding your hair. You gave another wet tickle of your tongue against his sensitive frenulum, which had Sammy unintentionally bucking. 'Fuck,' he moaned. 'You know what you're doin' to me, Jesus Christ.'

You let a pool of spit gather in your mouth before letting it drool between your lips and spill onto his hot cock. 'Oh God.' Sammy's head tipped back. 'Don't- don't ever fuckin' stop.' You straightened, trying not to smirk at his devastated face. 'No, please.' You began tugging at his white shirt. You undid the bottom two buttons so you could pull it up and over Sammy's chubby tummy. You teased your fingertips through his fuzzy belly hair; the auburn happy trail from beneath his inwards belly button and underneath his generous tummy overhang before it joined his curling pubic hair beneath his hips.

'Oh, baby,' Sammy breathed, looking down at his cock, shining with your saliva. 'Let me watch, Sammy,' you purred, kissing under his ear again.

Sammy flushed again, the tips of his freckled ears turning pink. You ran your fingers through his short auburn curls. 'Play with yourself for me,' you breathed. Sammy turned his head to meet your gaze. 'Yeah?' He swallowed thickly. 'Yeah,' you replied steadily.

'Ughhh,' Sammy leaned forwards and you hovered inches from his mouth. It was hotter than if you'd just let him kiss you. His eyes fluttered closed as you leant close, breathing into each other's parted mouths for several seconds. The tension built and then broke as you closed the gap. Sammy whimpered in relief. He deepened the kiss almost immediately, seeking out your tongue with his. The kiss was sloppy and Sammy was needy, licking against your tongue and the roof of your mouth. You pulled away as he began touching himself again.

Using your spit as lube, he began rubbing his palm along his wide length. 'Mm-mmm-hmm-hmmm,' his voice was high-pitched as he touched himself. 'You think about me when you're playing with yourself like that?' You ask softly, watching his fingers tighten around himself as he fucked his fist. Sammy nodded, lips pressed together and eyes fluttering shut. He was incapable of speaking. 'Look at me,' you whispered. Sammy struggled to meet your gaze, looking down and watching himself disappear inside his fist. His angry blunt tip was drooling again, popping out the top of his clenched fingers, before sliding back inside. You were mesmerised watching it, then scanning his face. His jaw was slack, his mouth parted as he breathed out of it. Sammy was trying to look over his chin and tummy to watch his cock. His hips began moving in time, picking up speed as he thrusted.

'Look at me,' you whispered again. You caught Sammy's mouth in a deep open-mouthed kiss. Sammy leant into you and groaned softly into your mouth. You swallowed it, fingers tracing patterns up and down his chest and over his nipples. Sammy shuddered in pleasure. You couldn't help yourself; you dug your nails in and used them down his chest. Sammy cried out. 'Oh, fuck.'

'You gonna show me how you cum when you play with yourself?' You asked, noting the whine he gave you in response. His hips began rutting wildly into his fist. 'Let me watch how you cum when you think about me?' You scraped your nails down his chest again, watching in satisfaction as his eyes rolled back into his head. Sammy nodded, his balls scrunching as his orgasm thundering towards him now. 'How you cum when you just can't get me pregnant?' You said the last words with a pout and a slightly condescending tone... that violently tipped him over.

'Uhh... oh.. oh God.. fuck here it comes... ffffuck oh ohhh I'm cumming.' Sammy's voice broke on the last word. Cum spurted out of his cock in arcs, streaming down his fist and splattering onto his tummy.

Sprays of cum hit back off his skin to land elsewhere as he emptied his balls onto himself. His cum was plastering his pubic hair down to his damp skin. Sammy's head dropped back as he sighed in relief. You leant over and he watched through hooded eyes as you cleaned him up. You gave wide licks over his heaving tummy as he panted, and took his softening cock into your mouth. You sucked gently on his sensitive skin, and then not so gently as Sammy whined at the overstimulation. You sat back up, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb and sucking that clean too.

Sammy leaned in to kiss you deeply. He didn't care about tasting himself on you. 'Fuck,' he groaned. 'I'm so... so sorry for the mess.' You laughed and shook your head. 'Was that good?' You asked, smirking again. 'Yeah... so good...' Sammy panted. 'How wet are you right now?'

You laughed again and decided to tell the truth. 'Very.' His eyes twinkled as he flipped you round underneath him. 'I'd better check,' he told you seriously, shimmying down your body. His slacks and boxers were still tight beneath his drained balls. Sammy moaned at the feeling of his soft cock dragging against the fabric of the sofa but he made no effort to tuck himself away - he knew he'd be humping down into it as he ate you out.

--🩷--

You are acutely aware of the blinking red light in the corner of the room, reminding you that this interview was being recorded and streamed to anyone who wanted it. You could also see your reflection in the two-way mirror as you sank to your knees.

'Charlie-' you began to protest.

'Deputy Chief Reid,' Charlie corrected.

Since when? Since you were in the precinct? A power play for any colleagues subordinates watching?

'You only have one way out of this drugs charge,' Charlie reminded you, 'and that is to make me cum.' He lowered his voice. 'I'm not having any man watching this and seeing you. Seeing your body, your pussy... seeing what's mine.' Charlie's voice broke into a snarl. 'Sp sucking my cock it is.'

The metallic noises of his belt being undone made heat rush between your legs. Charlie looked down at you.

'You did this. All you had to do was stay out of trouble, be my CI. I don't have a choice.'

You could see the bulky outline of his cock, straining against his briefs. He pulled them down just enough to lift himself out, his large balls spilling into the bottom of his jeans.

His hazel eyes were hooded, his clean-shaven jaw clenched, and his curly grey hair slightly mussed from when he pressed you up against the mirror, kissing you roughly with his large hand against your throat.

Charlie was towering over you. 'Open.'

His tone left no room for discussion.

You were in a sexual relationship with Charlie, often engaging on humiliating sex, but never in public. Never in front of others. Charlie could be fired for this, but you knew that he wouldn't. He never would.

You complied. Charlie's cock weighed heavy on your tongue. He hissed as you took it into your mouth, tasting the salt and the sweat of the day.

'All the way,' Charlie barked. 'Let them see how good you are.'

You took Charlie to the back of your throat and his fingers found your hair, tight against your scalp.

Charlie jerked his hips forward a little, making you gag. As your eyes watered, Charlie smirked. The kind of self-satisfied smirk of a man used to getting what he wanted unscathed. He looked up at the camera, back down at you, and winked.

You sucked on his whole thick length, swallowing around it. Charlie groaned and his fingers tightened in your hair.

'Fu-'

His curse was cut off as you began to move your head, sucking as you went. When you reached the bulky tip you let the drool pool in your mouth and pour all over him. Charlie groaned again. 'Good girl.'

You began giving him kitten licks, paying close attention to just under his leaking head. 'Oh, good fuckin' girl,' he growled.

The less time you were on film, the better, you decided. Less ammunition for Charlie to use and manipulate you with later. So you played with his balls, gently rolling them between your fingers. You moaned as your head bobbed, pressing your face right up against his grey pubic hair and shaking your head side to side slightly, huffing it with his cock pressed to the back of your mouth; just how you knew he liked.

'Oh stop, I'm gonna come,' Charlie groaned, his head tipped backwards.

You doubled down, moving your head faster, drooling more, and your fist pumped against the base of his pelvis.

Charlie took over, thrusting his hips roughly into your mouth. As you choked you raked your nails down his left thigh. It spurred him on as you drew blood. His thighs were tensing and his hips moved faster and with an uneven rhythm.

You let your tongue run in wavy lines beneath his heavy cock, and let the tears run mascara down your face.

Charlie tried to stay as quiet as possible, knowing he was on film.

'Oh, I'm gonna fuckin',' he pulled his cock out from your mouth at the last second and grunted, 'eyes.'

You looked up at him obediently and stuck out your tongue. Charlie groaned, pumping his cock twice before masking a cry. He came all over your face. Spurts covered your eyelids, cheeks and nose. Some splattered onto your tongue.

Charlie's face was contorted in concentration and pleasure. He was getting off on being watched and having you like this. He usually preferred coming down your throat, having your warm, wet mouth on him as he blew, but this was about claiming you. Making a point. There were always consequences for crossing Deputy Chief Charlie Reid.

'Aw, don't you look cute,' Charlie put his head on one side, pouting, as his condescension hung in the room. 'Clean me up.'

You looked up at him through sticky eyelashes, one eye stinging, and complied. Your face was still covered in sticky ropes of his cum, but he hadn't told you to wipe yourself off yet.

You took his softening cock into your mouth, careful not to rub your face against his pubic hair and smear anything onto him.

'Enough,' Charlie commanded, pushing you off and tucking himself away. As he rebuckled his belt, he spotted some of his cum on his boot.

'Clean my boot,' he commanded in that low, rasping voice.

You looked up at him, unsure if he was serious. He flashed you a quick fake smile, his head tilted to one side. He nodded at you expectantly.

You went to scoop it up with your finger.

'Be serious,' Charlie barked. 'Tongue. Now.'

You bent further down on your hands and knees and licked his boot clean. It tasted of cum, snow, and street.

'Look at me.'

You looked up at Charlie with wide, sticky eyes.

'Good girl,' he nodded. 'And now the floor.'

You looked down. There were a few splashes of cum on the dirty precinct vinyl. You looked up at him, nose wrinkling.

'You spilled it.' Charlie shook his head, sighing in disappointment.

Looking up at him with watering eyes, you sank lower on all fours and licked his cum up from the floor. You slurped so the liquid bubbled into your mouth. You couldn't help notice your ass raise in the air slightly as you did so, as if you were in heat. Pliant and soaking wet.

Charlie bit down on his bottom lip and grunted as you licked thicker stripes on the floor than you needed to, making sure you cleaned every last drop.

You tried to suppress a moan as you opened your mouth and showed Charlie your tongue, evidencing it was empty.

'Good girl.'

Charlie nodded once, tapping your arm with his boot and jerking your head back to indicate you get up.

You slowly stood, desperately trying to ignore how wet you were. But you knew that Charlie knew.

'What do you say?' Charlie asked gruffly, his eyes roaming all over your ruined face.

'Thank you, Deputy Chief Reid,' you sniffled.

Charlie's face slowly spread into a self-satisfied grin, tapping his cock over his jeans. 'And I accept your apology.'

His face turned back to stone.

'Come.' Charlie ordered, but not the type you wanted. For you to follow, not to gush all over his fingers like you desperately wanted.

'Wave at the camera, baby,' he commanded as you left. You lifted your wrist half-heartedly. As you left the room, you were faced with the Intelligence department.

They all tried to steadily avoid your gaze, Burgess suddenly busy with the board. Voight met your eyes briefly, his gaze roaming your cum-streaked face, and then looked down.

'Officers.' Charlie nodded as he walked through, parading you like a power-play.

'Meet me at my truck in an hour. You'll get a treat.' Charlie's rough voice was low enough so only you could hear.

Before you had chance to smile at him in excitement, he had his phone pressed to his ear and was walking away.