#john sampson

You folded clothes on the couch, pulling tightly at each corner of the fabric in your hands like it could solve your problem, wrangling them tightly in the grip of your hand as if it could hurt and feel the pain you wanted to inflict upon it. you needed the release. To feel something bend and break, for something, someone, some. . anything to be at your mercy and your mercy alone.

You didn't have the words to figure what about this particular inner turmoil was grating your every nerve and causing you to be so frustrated with any and every little thing around you.

None of this you actually let bubble to the surface. You didn't snap at those around you or slam any doors or yell at things, but it was simmering beneath you.

And as far as you were concerned, that was fine. You had work to do. Cases to close, drug busts to make, and occasionally help out with a murder or two. You were being groomed for a promotion and that was its own problem in itself.

Vice was apparently not as prestigious as homicide and missing persons. Getting this promotion meant you'd be working on the same team as your husband, and their would be less separation between home and work.

You were scared of what that would mean for your marriage. Could you and John survive seeing each other 24/7? Not having that momentary break from one another?

You really liked talking about your day and hearing about his. If you both already knew how each other's day went, what would there be left to talk about once you got home?

"Hey," the low timber of your husband's voice interrupted you from your thoughts.

"Yeah, baby?" You said, sounding frustrated to your own ears. Your heart dropped, you were trying to sound more casual, normal even, to hide the unrest inside of you.

"You need to talk." it wasn't an ask. He didn't say it with an underlying hint or implication of a larger problem.

"Are you telling me what to do?" You say dumbly, blinking.

"You've been in your head all week, and I've been trying to give you your space." He continues, crossing his arms and ignoring your response.

You tilt your head.

John was not exactly the poster child of vulnerability or opening up in any way for that matter. Not without pulling him by his arm or by his teeth, and even then, it comes out as an explosion of anger before showing itself for what emotion it truly is.

It was a toxic trait you both shared. The agreement you both settled on long ago when you were dating was to give the other person space until they started showing signs of spiraling or started taking their emotions out on the world or other people in ways that weren't healthy.

If one person in the relationship does something that hurts the other, that was when an intervention was needed.

"You worked late the other night and I had to go in early." He tilted his head similar to you.

"Yes." You half say as a question, not sure at all where this is going.

"Well," he huffs in a single low puff, shifting his weight from one leg to another, " I didn't' get to see you 'till this evening and. . ."

You put the clothes you were folding to the side. This felt like a hands free conversation.

"You didn't give me goodbye kiss."

"Oh baby!" you cry out, stretching out your hands. "Come here."

You wrap your arms around him and cradle his head as he settles down next to you. "I'm so sorry." You apologize, peppering his face with kisses. "I'm so sorry, baby. Come here." You put your hand under his chin and tilt his head for a kiss. You hardly had to pull him along because he was already falling into you.

You part your lips, eagerly swiping your tongue against his. He lets out a low short sound into your mouth, it vibrates against your lisp and tickles your senses along with the gentle scratch of his beard on your face. You break the the deep kiss before it turns into something more serious with a little more heat.'

Gently you place your lips on his forehead. "I'm so sorry, baby."

He nods.

You rub at his back as the tension leaves his body. His muscles ripple underneath your touch as they relax into your further.

You hold onto him, leaning back into the couch.

You were more worse off than you thought. You always make sure to kiss your baby goodbye. If you were working late and he was going to be gone by the time you get home, you make sure he gets two. One good bye and one for sending him off on his day.

He couldn't start his day without kiss, and he didn't like sending you off anywhere without one.

"Are you also scared that if i take that promotion, working together could ruin our marriage?"

"What?!" He tilted his head back to get a better look at you, his upside down furrowed brows smiling at you.

"It's worrying that you've had thoughts about that running through that mind of yours and your just now telling me about it, but that is not what I meant when I said you need to talk, but we are gonna talk about that later."

You sigh through your nose, then what did you mean by I need to talk." You squint suspiciously. Your voice is light, but not jovial. You don't want to give him the impression you aren't taking him seriously.

Apparently you needing to talk was not a conversation between you and him.

Your husband has been thinking up a storm, and for once you have no idea what's on his mind.

The doorbell rings and John calls out for you to get it.

"Hi."

You stare at Alex on your doorstep. Bright smile, broad strong shoulder's, and all. His powder blue shirt clung to him like a second skin, melding beautifully with the bouquet of flowers in his hand. The reds, magenta pinks, corals, and peaches, and oranges, and yellows melded beautifully against his shirt, creating a beautiful cacophony of colors.

You must pull off the neutral unassuming look you were going for because he smiles wider and holds them out to you.

"Hi." you take them, giving him a small smile in attempt to remain cordial.

He steps in, walking past you and he smells good.

For some reason, that pisses you off.

As well as the fact that in the brief moment he steps into your space to walk in your home as you close the door, you feel the heat radiating off his skin, enraging you even further when something in your stomach twists and your heart threatens to quicken in your chest, but you refuse it. You refuse it along with every other sensation he's making you feel.

"Let him in, baby." John called out from the kitchen.

You smacked your teeth and muttered under your breath.. "What do you think I'm doing?"

"Nigga, did you bring flowers?"

"Yeahhh, You saw those?" Alex raised his fist and John reluctantly bumped his against it, "those flowers are for both of ya'll before you get the wrong idea."

"Uhuh." John huffed.

"They're as pretty as you, sugar." he teases.

"Where are the donuts?" You look around.

"They still in my hand." John waves the box."I'll get the coffee. Now, sit down and get to talking." He wiggled his fingers, knowing that would get under your skin.

"About that night. . .oh?" Alex shifts in his seat. he casts his eyes down, momentarily breaking eye contact before scratching at his nose with his thumb.

So this conversation was a surprise for him too?

And on top of that he had the nerve to be nervous? After what he did, now, he wants to be fucking nervous?

"I think its fair to assume that we all enjoyed it, but there are some kinks that need to be work out, and I mean that in the literal sense of the word." He adds.

"That's fair." Alex nods and takes a sip of his coffee.

John looks at you and you raise your eyebrows.

"I—" You were going to start with some sort of I feel statement, but you have no idea how you feel, but you do know what you're not going to express.

You refuse to show an attitude. to grit your teeth and show what was inevitably building inside of you. That thing you couldn't identify or control. You hold onto your mug a little tighter to keep yourself from clenching your first where Alex can see.

"It's not going to happen again."

Something in the air changes. Alex and John share a look and this makes whatever brewing inside you grow worse.

"If that's what you want, we can honor that."

"Its not going to happen again like that." You reiterate a little more, but say nothing else.

John clenches his jaw. An act most people relate to growing angry, but you know, and Alex as well, that it's more a nervous tic. An act he may do when he's lost in thought from time to time.

"That's. . . fair." Alex is the first one to break the silence.

"If some says that's fair one more time," you give them both a serious look, "I'm flipping this table over."

"Baby." John warns in a low voice, " You agreed you would stay cordial."

"I said I'd be cordial, to not polite."

"I think you mean polite and not cordial."

You blink.

He matches your gaze with an unwavering disposition. A hint of a smirk at the corners of his lips, but you swear there's something simmering beneath his gaze. A slow burning challenge as he corrects you.

"Yeah, Cordial is a word for polite, but with an addition of a genuine warmth, whereas polite can be ritualistic. It can be a show of pleasantness but in performance only. It's the one that's not always so nice." Alex continues to add.

"Easy, Sugar." John exasperates.

So John saw it too, huh?

"Will both of you chill out!" John gave you both a look. "Something happened between us, and we have to acknowledge that. I shouldn't have to be the voice of reason!"

There were a thousand things wrong about what he just said, but that would need to be a private conversation.

Of course he can be a voice of reason!

You didn't need one right now because you were absolutely being reasonable. Alex was the one being childish and acting like an asshole. just because he went to mind school does not mean he's automatically the voice of reason when it comes to emotions and friendship dynamics and shit.

Alex has clearly made it clear being a licensed therapist doesn't negate you from fucking up.

John may be a little stunted when it comes to expressing his emotions, but he's a solid confidant and advice giver. He can be an emotional voice of reason just as well as anyone.

"Fuck Alex! And fuck his psychology degree!" You cry out.

"What do you want?" Alex directed at you. He finished his coffee with a swallow and tosses the mug down, it clatters on the table next to him.

You stare at it.

That mug was one of one and it belonged to the first set of dishes you and John bought together for the house you now live in. If he had threw it any harder, it would have cracked or maybe even shattered.

He folded his hands in front of him as he glared at you. "Huh? You make your husband call me and invite me over? To what—"

"I didn't make John do anything!" You hiss. "This was his idea and he set this up, so stop fucking it up! This is obviously important to him!"

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" He scoffed. "After last week it's clear if you say jump, he won't even ask you how high."

"What the fuck did I just say?!" John boomed. His voice echoed like a deep roll of thunder in the kitchen. He wasn't even yelling that loud, but the low bass of his voice filled every pocket of air, expanding everywhere and filling your senses.

He let a moment of silence stretch as he looked at you both seriously.

"This should be important to both of you too. . .its clear that you both have to work out this little thang between y'all," he waved his finger back and forth from you to Alex, "but it needs to be done in a healthy manner."

He looks directly at you, and for moment you see the pleading in his eyes. A tired frustrated look, bordering on despair.

"Like you taught me." He says softly.

You give a defeated sigh and nod.

"We didn't just wake up and establish this dynamic and it's not the only one we have." John looks at Alex who gives a slow apologetic nod of understanding.

John lets out a slow exhausted breath.

"Do the thing for Alex."

Alex chuckles and you laugh softly along with him more quietly in a way only you could hear.

No matter how serious or unserious a situation John will be John.

You grab your phone and print of a sheet from your notes.

Without asking John slides his chair back to go grab the paper from the printer.

In less than a minute he hands it to you with a pen. You slide both items over to Alex, barely making eye contact.

"Fill that out." You grumble. "And if there's something on there that you may or may not want to do or find interesting, write it off to the side and we can talk about it."

Alex grins broadly, showing off his pearly white teeth.

"Yeah." He draws out the word. The low thickness of his voice hummed pleasantly in your ears, and pissed you off.

But you don't comment. You will not let yourself react to it. He was trying to get at you on purpose with it, but you were still reeling from moments before.

He almost broke your one of a kind mug that would have costs hundreds to replace if you wanted the exact same one, or God forbid you end up with a partial set and have to buy a new one.

"So you and John talked about all this?" Alex twisted his head and the sincerity in them floors you. When you make eye contact with him, for a brief moment, his eyes flickers away, darting nervously around the page before landing back on you.

"Just the stuff he circled." You reply gently. "Make sure to underline anything that's off limits. If you want to try something, put a question mark by it so I'll know what not to do."

"What not to do?" He tilts his head, now giving you his full intention. His pupils go wide with an intense curiosity. His gaze never wavering as they scream tell me more.

"Sometimes John likes to be surprised with things and the hard no's give me a guide of what never to try when you aren't expecting it."

"Hm." he tilts his head the other way and looks down at the paper. He marks a few more things and slides it to you.

"I. . . don't want surprises."

"Then we won't have any then." You reassure.

You scan over his list and let out a small hitch of your breath. As soon as the sound leaves your lips your eyes dart up to check if Alex noticed.

He did.

His eyes intently scan your face, but it's not intense, there's no mockery, no a hint of a smirk in them either.

It's subtle. A whisper of a glimmer that comes so easily from your husband. A look that washes over John's eyes and blossoms onto his face without prompting or nudging. A look that pleads. A look that wants to be acknowledged, for something to be given.

Praise.

Verbal or nonverbal. An action, a look, any form of acknowledgment it can get that something they did made you feel good, no matter if it was too minuscule to quantify or too large for you to accurately put into words or a tangible expression.

So similar yet, so different John and Alex were.

The same things were marked save for one and two, but the modifiers he used for them were different.

You remember John's paper vividly, and can't help but to compare and see where they add up and what differs.

Alex wanted to be handled gently, which you found strange for someone who did not want to listen. The same level of light bondage your husband circled was there, and he was open to overstimulation, but he doesn't mind for things to hurt. In fact he reiterated wanting to feel pain. He highlighted the amount of pleasure he receives from it.

No degradation, but he wanted a push and pull.

Praise kink.

You were more than familiar with that one.

"Before we really get into this, I'm gonna need something from you. Think of it as a test of some sorts."

He nodded slightly, leaning forward.

"John too." You add looking over to your husband.

He hummed at the mention of his name, eyebrows scrunched.

Oh that'll do just fine. You thought to yourself, slowly teasing your bottom lip with a scrape of your teeth. Your heart thudded quicker in your chest, fluttering madly against your ribcage.

They sit in front of you on the couch.

Their brown skin beautifully on display as they sat in nothing.

You sat across from them in the matching settee, wearing the thin short robe your husband was so fond of. Alex couldn't take his eyes off you. He was just as much of a fan.

It didn't help that the robe was doing very little to hide your body. It was practically split down the middle showing more than enough of your brown skin, your breast proudly on display. The thin fabric just barely covered your hand rubbing against your soft weeping pussy.

Their eyes were hot and heavy on your skin in the best way.

They weren't too close to one another. Both spreading their legs just for you with a hand wrapped around their pretty velvety thick dicks. How lucky were you to have two precious lovely things.

John was pumping himself at a steady pace he liked, curling and twisting his wrist around the tip as he stroked all the way up the slight curve of his dick.

"Slow down, baby." You say in a low sultry voice and bite your lip. With a sharp intake of his breath he stills his hand, squeezing himself at the base before slowly moving his hand back up in a more relaxed pace. With each slow stroke, his chest rises a little heavier, and the crease on his brow grows tighter.

"Fuck." he groans.

A thrill races through your chest when he throws his head back. It tickles pleasantly down your spine as his free hand clenches furiously into the fabric on the couch.

Alex was much harder. His thumb running over the fat head of his tip as his hand lightly pressed up his length, more massaging his dick than stroking. He presses his thumb against the head, when a dribble of precum gushes around his finger, he slides his hand down to squeeze lightly at his balls, making himself hiss.

His thick heavy dick bounces up against his slower belly, smearing more precum into the soft skin under his belly button. Just like before, he'd sit there for a moment. Keeping his tightly closed as he sits in the throbbing pain, and after a few seconds, he'd start all over again.

Your pussy pulls tight over your fingers and for a moment you have to stop yourself.

What a sight they were.

Slowly, you slip onto the floor , crawling towards them with sure purposeful movements.

Another swear slips from John's lips, and Alex's gaze burns into you as he stares straight into your eyes. Right before you settle before them on your knees, his eyes slip down toward your chest. When he looks back up, his cold reserved demeanor slips into something more open, more soft.

Everything in you screamed to push him for more. To push until he revealed to you the true meaning of that look, but for now, you ignored it. You didn't want to scare him off from opening up too early.

They both stared at you, waiting.

You waited to.

Lazily, you turn your gaze towards John, even slower, you move them over towards Alex.

John's hands were on either side of him. His knuckles almost white from wo hard they were gripping the couch. Alex's were idly laying on his thighs.

You raised an eyebrow at them both.

"I never said to stop."

John, your beautiful baby hitches his breath and moves instantly.

Alex's eyes light with a glint or pride, and as if by the will of some supernatural force he doesn't move an inch, not even on accident or subconsciously. A glint of a smirk graces his features, smug.

As his eyes scanned your face for a response, you could practically see his wheels turning. How smug he was over something he hadn't done, of something he was going to do.

You don't give him one. Ignoring him as you turn to your husband.

Greedily, you take in how his hand moves over himself. The mix of the lube and his precum makes his dick glisten in his hand. You reward him with your touch, placing your hand on his chest. He leans in to your palm as you rub his chest. His hips cant up into his palm, begging for more.

"Please." He begs for more of you and your head swims. His pleading making you go dizzy.

"Oh, baby." you say breathly.

You move his hands and tenderly hold them in your own. You brush your lips over his knuckles and place a kiss onto the back of his hand before looking into his eyes. "Good Big Daddy."

He whimpers. The delicious sound warms your chest.

"You're so good." You murmur again and place tender kisses along the side of dick. After one or two you suck lightly at a spot before dragging your tongue along the soft tender skin.

He lets out a loud low ruined moan. When you finally place a kiss upon the tip of his dick he lets out a more ragged and desperate sound.

It's not until you look back up to him that it registers he's been slipping words in between each moan and whimper.

"Please. . . . let me touch you. . .please. . let me— fuck!. . .wanna touch you." He whimpers. "Please."

Slowly, lovingly, tenderly, you wrap your lips around your husband's dick, taking him all the way down into your throat, just the way he likes.

You bob your head with a hum, drawing out more sounds from John.

He lets out another drawn out fuck.

"Jusss' lih— ah, fuck," He moans, sputtering as you take a break to swirl your tongue around the tip. "like that."

You take all of him in your mouth with one swallow, much quicker than before. Before you could bob your head in a much quicker pace, similar to how quickly he'd been touching himself, a hand pushes you back down until your nose tickled the neatly trimmed hair at his base.

Your throat squeezes tightly around John's dick in shock. You attempt to pull up back off him, but the hand pushes you back down, making you choke as it controls the pace.

There was no tender swipe of your cheek, no asking for permission, and it was not as large as your baby boy's hand.

"Damn," Alex lets out wistfully.

Awed, as he fucks your face with his friends dick. "She takes it in the mouth as good as she does her pussy." the warm timber of his voice as he casually speaks to John goes straight into your pussy, aching as your soaked folds clench around nothing.

You choke, gagging as he bobs your head up and down. You hate the whimper that vibrates around your husbands dick in your throat.

"Waitwaitwaitwaitwiat." John's voice cracks, pitching high as he moans.

Alex pulls you up roughly by your hair, keeping John's tip in your mouth. An overwhelming amount of drool and cum trickle down your chin.

"Good, huh?" Alex chuckles.

"I- that's eno—" John grunts. His chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. "No more, Sugar." He huffs. Putting a hand on his chest.

"You can take it, John."

Without further warning Alex pushes you back onto the full length of his dick, making you choke and gagg more than you were before. John's hand flies over Alex's, pulling at his wrist as your throat squeezes around him.

With a loud groan he cums. Hot sticky wet spurts slide down your throat, warming a path down to your tummy.

"Fuck." "Fuck."

You both huff with ruined voices.

You fall back on your knees, wiping what you could off your mouth with the back of your hand. John sinks on the couch, panting as he catches his breath.

"My bad," Alex grins widely, letting go of you and settling back onto the couch, "I didn't mean to get carried away."

"It's no problem." You say overly sweet, but on the inside you were fucking reeling.

Cum and spit was everywhere and with each passing second you felt more and more of it and it was driving you mad.

You try to wipe at some of it with your hand again.

"Aht." John interrupts with a low voice. He places a warm washcloth onto your cheek.

"Stop." He he lightly chides as he cleans you up. "Your hands can't do anything."

You hadn't even noticed that he had left and come back.

Adorned in the loose black pants you loved him in. They were thin and breathable and were nighttime snuggle approved.

"Sticky." You cant help but stick your bottom lip out a bit. Never had John made a mess of you like this. Only with the presence of Dennis the fucking Menace could such a thing happen.

"I know, I know." He murmurs lowly. With one final swipe, he kisses you on the temple of your head. "All done."

You let out a content sigh.

Much better.

Before he walks off you grab his hand.

"Wait for me?"

" 'Course." He hums, the low sound pleasant to your ears, "You still need to be taken care of."

You flash your teeth in an almost childlike giddy expression. No doubt, your nose was scrunching with absolute glee.

He laughs through his nose and presses his finger into the side of your temple, jerking your ahead to the side in jest.

You take a moment, waiting for the telltale sounds of his feet padding up up the stairs with heavy far away stomps to your room before you direct your attention back at Alex.

"Aww," He looks down at you, still flashing his cheshire grin, "you two are so cute."

"mm," You hum nonchalantly, "color."

He takes his hand off his soaking wet dick, still hard despite the evidence he had cum from touching himself from some point in time while fucking your throat with your husband's, his best friend, dick .

He places his elbows onto his knees and leans down until his face is inches from yours.

"Green."

You laughed through your nose, The soft tufts of your breath tickled against his face. A good display of unbothered, but the simple gesture had your walls screaming, aching for something you would not give them. Not yet. . . not from him.

"Good." You lean a little closer, letting the movement of your lips as you speak brush against his. They part, but he remains still, not giving in.

But you notice the way his eyes drop down to your lips, the brief want that flickers in them as he does.

"Stand up for me." You say in a soft low voice. "Let me clean you up."

"Okay." He doesn't move right away.

Still, you reign yourself, keeping your cool.

When he finally gets up, you subtly suck in a breath as his dick swings with each movement. Once he stands before you, it hangs heavily between his legs.

"Can you face the other way?" You ask sweetly.

You rub at the front of his thighs,and he lets out a pleased hum. His eyebrows drew together in curiosity.

As he moves you poke a finger into the back of one of his knee caps.

"Prop one leg on the couch." You instruct.

He sucks in a slight breath, and you know its because he's figured out what you want to do.

He does what you ask.

After moving one leg up, it leaves his dick dangling more freely above you.

"Good boy." You say lightly, nothing behind it really, and you cant see his face, so you don't exactly know how he reacts to that, but you have an inkling, that for now, its okay.

You don't know the ripples or contractions of his muscles as well as your husband's, but this is good. This is progress.

Baby steps.

After all, this is his first punishment.

Without further warning you take his dick into your mouth as much as you can from this angle.

Surprising to you, he shudders at the sensation. A low hum of a moan slips from his lips.

He moves his hand back to touch you, but he can't reach you from this angle. You take the opportunity to latch off him and swipe your tongue over his tip.

"Fuck." He strains. You smile as you watch a veins form on his head. "Can you—"

You take his dick into your mouth once more and sputters out a few more curses, bobbing your head until his words transition into incoherent moans. Sounding wrecked but not quite ruined.

Not how you wanted him. You want more.

With a wet pop you pull off him. Slowly, you drag your tongue down the underside of his dick, leaning up by your knees to give your attention to his balls, doing just what you said you were and licking them clean. As he groans, you slip your hand into the couch cushion, reaching for what you always knew was there but hardly ever use.

You stop, peppering kisses along the base of his length back up to his tip. His dick jerks under your mouth, the action causing his tip to drag against your tongue.

"Fuuhck." He strains, dropping his head onto the cushion as his dick throbs. "Shit."

"hmmm," You hum pleasantly. Without further warning, you switch on the little vibrator in your hand and place it onto his balls.

"Wai— erghmgh," He lets out a sharp drawn out whimper and cums instantly.

"whuhhtthefffuhck. . ."

You wrap your hand around his dick and pump him further, making him continue to spill is cum onto the floor, forming a little puddle.

"Color, baby?" you coo and bite your bottom lip as he continues to whimper each one sounding more pathetic than the one before it.

"Green." He keens as he white knuckles the couch cushions by his head.

"You're going to stop getting on my nerves. Aren't you, baby?"

He cries out. You can feel his dick throbbing wilding in your hand from being overstimulated. You bring our hand around his tip and twist your wrist around it, bringing the vibrator up to the underside of dick.

It's hard to tell, but he nods his head furiously into the cushion.

"Please," he says with a hoarse ruined voice, "Stop. I-I'll be good. I won't— juststop." he whimpers in a higher pitch than before. A new wave of his cum floods out of him, joining the growing mess he was already making.

"Oh baby," You kiss the inside of his thigh, savoring how his muscles shake and twitch under your lips as he keeps cumming, "You can take it."

AN:// I am also full of stories with whimsy romance and fun. i am equally as capable with intrigue, thought, and mystery, actions, and maybe even thrillers. I'm just giving you people what you want. I am a slave to the audience.

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