#josh futterman

josh's eyes light up and he pulls his head up, ". . . no you don't."

"yes i do." you grin.

he shakes his head, a small smile pulling on the corner of his lips as he looks at you with a puzzled expression, "what?! where?"

a beat, "guess."

oh.

his eyes trail across your body, scanning and searching for where this hidden tattoo could possibly be. the relationship was relatively new, it's not like you hadn't done anything but he had no idea what you looked like completely naked. he couldn't even try and form a guess of where the tattoo could be.

he settles himself over you, deciding that if he must guess, he'll do it right.

leaning down, he presses a soft kiss over your shirt to your chest, ". . . here?"

your cheeks flush and you shake your head, "no, not there."

humming, he trails further down, nestling against your legs as he presses a kiss to your clothed stomach, hands on your waist. "here?" his head tilts up to look at you.

you shake your head once more, biting your lip, watching him slowly descend your body. a fever-like heat begins to burn underneath your skin, desire pooling in your gut, an ache growing between your legs. there is something so hot about watching him take the lead like this, especially when most of the time josh trips over his own words almost constantly.

"hmmm, how about-" he hovers above your shorts for a few teasing moments before moving towards your thigh and nuzzling his nose against your skin, followed by an open-mouthed kiss, "here?"

a gasp slips from your lips and you smirk, "you can see the skin, dumbass, you know it's not there."

josh chuckles cheekily, "i know, i was just pushin' my luck." he steals another kiss against your thigh, head moving back up towards your core. "then. . ."

your heart is pounding, eyes fixated on his every move. how's the guy who trips over his own mop every day at the lab getting you this worked up?

gingerly, his lips connect with the fabric of your shorts just below your tummy, eyes flitting up to yours as he does so, "here. . ?" the words leave his lips, breathy and full of craving, making your head spin.

"well," you exhale, reaching down to cup his cheek, softly rubbing your thumb over his skin, "not sure, maybe i've forgotten."

josh melts into your touch, biting his lip as he attempts to suppress his smirk but its futile. he's already hard, he was hard the moment he started.

"guess there's only one way to find out, maybe we can refresh your memory?" he whispers as his fingers hook under the waistband, eager to discover what's hiding underneath. . .

Josh had never been good with girls. He knew it, everyone at the lab knew it, everyone at the game store knew it, hell, even his parents were aware how inept he was. It was humiliating, and it really didn’t help his chances with girls, to have them know he’s a loser before they even get to meet him, not that it wasn’t plainly obvious from his demeanour anyway. That’s why it’s so baffling to everyone in his life when you show up. You start as an intern at Kronish Laboratories, fresh out of college. He immediately finds you pretty, but he’s overheard the others telling you about him. He’s a loser, he’s probably a creep, he still lives with his parents at 23, do you want to grab a coffee sometime? All the other men at the facility are immediately flirting with you, so he just writes you off as someone to admire from afar. Until you make it a mission to insert yourself into his life, for whatever reason. 

“Hey Josh,” you’ll greet him with a flirtatious tone in the staff room as you grab coffees for your superiors. He never gets used to it, waving back awkwardly. You just giggle and rest a hand on his arm. He’s sure this is all a prank being played against him. There is this odd predatory gleam in your eyes now and then as you talk to him. It’s like you want to chew him up and spit him out, and at this point, he might let you. Every suggestive remark you make drives him to the brink of insanity, his imagination becoming filled with all the things you suggest. His masturbatory fantasies become grounded in reality rather than Biotic Wars thanks to you. He even brags to his friends, keeping a lipstick mark from you on his cheek all day just so he could go show it off at the game store after work. You come sit by him in the cafeteria sometimes, talking to him and openly flirting with him. He so wishes he could flirt back, sweep you off your feet but he just can’t get the words out. Yet, despite all his pathetic responses, stumbling words and lack of reciprocation, you keep pressing. Being more and more forward with him every day, leaving him dizzy.

You sit across the table from him, tracing your fingers up and down his arm, sipping your favourite smoothie. He stares down at the table, eating silently, his eyes occasionally flickering to your fingers on his arm. He looks like he’s uncomfortable, and he is, but he loves it too and is glad that you don’t back off. He just needs some time, he’s really not used to this and you’re so beautiful. You tell him idly about one of the lab workers who has been very demanding, lamenting your position as intern. 

“At least you’re not scrubbing toilets,” he laughs nervously. You purse your lips.

“Yeah, I suppose, you’re very resilient for doing what you do Josh,” you smile flirtatiously, tracing your fingers over his palm. The sensation tickles slightly and his fingers twitch. You know you’re laying it on a little thick, but Josh is so starved for this that he just smiles dopily.

“N-no, I mean, anyone could do it,”

“No… It takes a special, strong man, I think,” you grin, leaning a little closer. Flattery gets you everywhere with him, he bites the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from saying something embarrassing. “You said something about your parents going away this weekend?” you urge, drawing circles on his wrist. 

“Uh… yeah, they’re off to visit some friends of theirs,” he answers nervously. He still finds it odd that you casually bring up him living with his parents without a shred of judgement. 

“I can come over then?” you suggest. His mouth falls open.

“Uh… what?”

“I can come over?” you bat your lashes enticingly. 

“Yeah… I… why would you want-? But yeah definitely,” he stumbles over his words, blushing and feeling his brain buzzing. God he really needs to clean up, and take all his posters of Tiger down and–.

“Perfect, I have something fun for us to do,” you grin, winking. His entire body reacts, blood feeling hot. “I have a little present for you too,” you smile, reaching over the table to trace a finger down his neck. He doesn’t understand your implication, but his brain is conjuring millions of images. 

“A present?” he swallows. “Why?” You lean over the table, pressing your lips to his ear. His whole body jolts. 

“Because you’ve been a good boy, haven’t you?” you purr, nipping his earlobe. Josh feels crazy in this moment, he has to be dreaming, but that nip on his ear felt real and oh god. “Haven’t you?”

“Y-yeah, I’m a good boy,” he answers without thinking. He waits for you to mock him, for this to have been his trap, the motivation behind your flirting to finally reveal itself. He expects you to reveal a recording device, to play the audio of him saying he’s a good boy for everyone at work to hear, to completely humiliate him. But you don’t, you just kiss below his ear and stand up from the table.

“Saturday at 5?” you suggest, unable to keep the smirk off your face. He nods, eyes wide and dumbstruck. “You’ll pay for dinner, we’ll order something in,” you tell him, finishing off your smoothie with a slurp of the straw. He just nods again like he’s in a trance. You smile. “Perfect, see you later Josh,” you blow a kiss and leave the cafeteria. Josh swallows, pinching his arm to check he’s even alive anymore. You want to come to his house, you want to be alone together. You called him a good boy. He wasn’t good at this stuff, but even he knew that it seemed like he was getting laid this saturday. He didn’t want to assume, in case it made things awkward. That evening after work, he discussed with his buddies at the game shop, even getting a female perspective. He left out that you’d called him a good boy, but even without that, they all agreed he was getting laid. He was so excited, smiling for the rest of the week, a spring in his step that wasn’t usually there. He was getting laid, by you.

He spends the days until Saturday getting ready, praying he’s not getting ahead of himself. He goes into town, picking up some condoms, a bunch of takeout menus for all the best places, some nice plain boxers and a nice smelling candle. At home, he does furious reddit research on sex advice, tidies away all of his Tiger stuff and tries his best to make his bedroom look like a respectable adult man's room, rather than that of a man with the interests of a teenager. He knows you know about his video game addiction, his friend Ray having embarrassed him in front of you for it many times, but he’s still determined to seem a little less pathetic than he is. His parents ask a million questions about what he’s up to before they go, but he avoids the questions, knowing they’d be asking to meet you if they knew what was going on, and he couldn’t face that humiliation and come out alive. At work, you continue to flirt with him, continue to touch his arms and occasionally sneak kisses onto his cheeks. He’s coiled tight like a bowstring, practically vibrating with excitement. In just 24 hours, he thinks as he says goodbye to you on friday evening (or rather you say bye to him and he just squeaks and blushes), the two of you might be having sex. He lays out a nice outfit for himself when he gets home, ready for tomorrow. His parents are already gone, the house is silent and his thoughts echo your name. 

He can barely sleep, tossing and turning and tugging himself off periodically. He is desperate not to cum too early with you tomorrow, although he’s done extensive research on how to please you anyway in case it happens. In the morning, he changes his sheets, using the fancy sheets usually kept for the guest room. What his parents don’t know can’t hurt them, he’ll wash them and return them to the linen closet before they get back. He showers, scrubbing himself furiously, using every nice-smelling thing he can get his hands on. He trims his pubic hair, he wanted to shave, but it was too risky, so he carefully trims, tongue sticking out between his teeth as he focuses intensely. He lets his hair dry without brushing it down, making it curl up a little. He remembers that you told him once that you liked his hair like this. He slathers on deodorant and cologne desperately, already starting to sweat with nerves. He does a final sweep of his room to make sure there is nothing embarrassing visible, lighting the candle to make it smell nice and to build atmosphere. Then, he sits, anxious as anything by the front door. His brain churns with a million different scenarios, anxiety settling in his gut and making him nauseous. What if he’s done all this and he’s misread everything and you’re not going to have sex? It would be fine, he wasn’t going to pressure you or anything, but he has gotten himself all worked up and would feel pretty devastated. He’ll just enjoy your company, and whatever happens will happen, he tells himself. 

You’re at the door. You’re early. He sprints to the door, opening it in seconds. His mouth is dry, you’re wearing a beautiful and very… short dress. He swallows, tearing his eyes away from your thighs. You hold a little bag in your hands, smiling seductively. 

“Hey handsome,” you purr, stepping past him into the house, letting yourself in. His eyes follow you, dumbstruck. 

“Uh… hey,”

“Where’s your room?” you ask, glancing around the family home, spotting a few baby pictures of Josh that you’d want to have a look at later. 

“Oh… uh okay… straight there?” he chuckles, wringing his hands nervously, sweating dripping down his forehead. He leads you up the stairs to his room on shaky legs, standing by the door and taking a deep breath. He prayed to God that he’d made his room look okay. He opens the door and lets you in in front of him, which ends up being a mistake as he gets a view of your ass that makes him half-hard already. He swallows. The room smells more pleasant than usual, the candlelight illuminating the room warmly.

“Sit,” you command him, pointing to his bed. He scrambles to do what you say, kicking the door shut behind him and stumbling to the bed, sitting on the edge and looking up at you, breathing hard. You smile. 

“Good boy,” you coo, making him shiver. You walk over and sit yourself on his lap, wrapping one arm around his shoulders. His eyes are wide and filled with awe, his hands hovering, unsure where to put them. All his research has left his mind and he just feels like a complete loser, but you’re on his lap and looking happy, and that’s all that matters. It doesn’t even occur to him that you can feel him half-hard against your thigh but the knowledge makes you smirk. “I had something to discuss with you,” you begin. 

“Errr… right, o-okay,” he tries his best to smile casually. 

“You see… I have a little problem,” you start, running your hand up and down his chest. He nods along, though he’s more focused on your hand on his chest, feeling his shaky breaths. You pout down at him. “I have this… kink… that no one will indulge me with, that I think you might be able to help with,” he lets out a throaty noise as you say this, completely caught off guard.

“I’ll do it,” he answers quickly, not wanting to miss this opportunity, whatever it was. You giggle.

“You don’t even know what it is yet,” you point out, gently poking the tip of his nose. He shrugs.

“Anything, I’ll do,” 

“Hear me out first okay?” you pout, tracing up and down his neck. He nods, although he already knows he’ll agree to whatever this is unless it’s illegal or something. He’s just so desperate to get laid, especially by you. “So… you like it when I call you a good boy, right?”

“Yeah, I’m a good boy,” he exhales, trying to lean up to kiss you. You push him back. You can tell he’s not really listening to you, so you pull out the little box from your bag. He half watches, half stares in awe at your face. You open the box to reveal a leather collar and a matching leash. When he realises what he’s looking at, his brows shoot up. “You uh… want to collar me?”

“Yeah,” you purr, nuzzling his jawline. “I want you to be an obedient little puppy for me,” His mind spins, he hadn’t been expecting this from you. Sure, he knew you were confident and seemed to like to be in charge, but he’s still taken by surprise. You pick up the collar gently, running your fingers over the leather, he watches. “May I?” you ask, holding it up to his neck.

“O-okay,” he whispers, staring up at you. You secure the collar around his neck, making sure it’s not too tight. He finds the feeling odd, but also pleasant. 

“There, now you belong to me,” you smile. Oh, he likes the sound of that, belonging to you.

“You’re my owner,” he breathes.

“Exactly, puppy,” you coo, kissing his cheek. He looks up at you in awe. Why does he like that so much? Being called puppy? He knew he was into the whole ‘good boy’ thing from his late nights on the internet, but this was new. Yet he was finding himself quite into it. You secure the leash onto his collar, tugging gently so his face is closer to yours. You grin.

“You’re not uh… gonna walk me around in public on all fours are you?” he asks nervously. You chuckle and shake your head. 

“No, I’m only really mildly into this puppy play stuff, people get pretty crazy with it, but I’m tamer than you think,” you assure, kissing his lips for the first time, tugging him closer using the leash. He whines into the kiss, kissing you back desperately, his hands finally settling on your waist. He kisses you eagerly, pressing his tongue into your mouth and letting it explore. The slight pressure from the collar on the back of his neck as you pull him close feels surprisingly nice, a grounding reminder that you’re in control here. You kiss for a little while before things start to escalate. He watches in awe as you strip down for him, telling him to stay put and not touch. He takes in every inch of your body with enthusiasm, sitting on his hands to keep from reaching for you. You command him to strip down too and he nervously does. He stands in his boxers for a while, wondering if you might compliment them since they’re new. You tilt your head and urge him on and he inwardly curses, realising you’d have no idea they were new and he must have looked silly just now. He stands in front of you in all his glory, cock at full attention. “You look lovely, pup, now kneel for me,” he blushes and shakily lowers to his knees, looking up at you wide-eyed.

“Is this good?” he asks shyly. 

“Yes, very,” you come to sit down on the edge of his bed, he shuffles to turn to look at you as you tug on his lead. You spread your legs and he whimpers, cock twitching. His only experience was fingering a girl in the dark back in high school, so he’s never seen a cunt up close and in the light like this. You tug him forward by the least until he is right up against you, his shaky breaths washing over you. He’s staring wide-eyed at the space between your legs and you giggle. “Puppies like to lick, don’t they?” you tease. He moans and looks up at you through his lashes. 

“Oh God… Can I?” he pants. You just tug on his leash, pulling his face against your centre. He whines, the smell of your arousal making him lightheaded. He looks up at you and slowly starts to lick.

“Good boy…” you sigh, leaning back on your free hand, the other wrapped tight in the leash, keeping him in place. “Very good puppy,” he whines at your praises, his tongue moving faster against you. He’s sloppy, lapping at you like he’s trying to drink you up, practically drooling all over you, moaning in desperation. “Yeah, you like it don’t you pup?” you sigh, lying back against his bed, throwing your legs over his shoulders. He whimpers, continuing his desperate work, slurping wetly at you. The fact he’s pleasing you is driving him wild. He shakes his head into you, trying to get as close as humanly possible. He groans in pleasure as your thighs tighten around his head. He keeps licking at you relentlessly until you’re finally starting to shiver and cry out. He hums in excitement, speeding up his work, feeling the muscles in your thighs go tense around his head. You tug at his leash. “Faster,” he swallows, speeding up his movements as much as he can. He’s practically making out with your cunt, sloppy and desperate, feeling you buck up against his face. He just whines in response. 

Finally, stars explode behind your eyelids and you cry out, your thighs tightening around his head so tight he can barely hear you as your orgasm, but he can hear enough. He stares up at you in awe as you fall apart, continuing to lick at you, drinking your release like the nectar of the gods. You moan, rubbing yourself against his face until sensation is too much. You loosen your grip on the leash, tugging him away. He whines in disappointment, looking up at you. He slowly and shakily licks his lips, savouring the remnants of your taste. He’s painfully hard and you can see it too, his tip all flushed red and leaking pre-cum.

“You were such a good puppy, such a good boy,” you coo breathlessly. “You made me very happy,” he smiles proudly up at you from the floor. “Does my good puppy want a reward?” you ask. He nods excitedly. You tug him up onto his feet and he stumbles excitedly towards you. “You’re so needy, aren’t you puppy?” you taunt, tracing a finger up his length which twitches furiously in response.

“Y-yeah,” he stammers, watching as a drop of his pre-cum drips onto your thigh, sliding down the curve of it. The sight makes him squirm. You turn around, still loosely holding his leash, getting on your knees and elbows on the bed, arching your back to present your cunt to him. You tug him forward by the leash, but he misunderstands your intention, leaning in to desperately lick at you again from this new position, pressing his face against you. You gasp and squirm, your hips stuttering, enjoying it for a second before sharply tugging him away. He whines miserably and you can hear him panting.

“You’re supposed to fuck me, puppy,” you huff breathlessly.

“Oh… heh… okay,” he chuckles sheepishly, cursing inwardly at himself for screwing up. He climbs carefully up onto the bed. You feel his warmth hovering above you and you tug the leash again, forcing his warm chest to hit your back. He exhales shakily, taking a nervous hold of your hips as he positions himself over you. You feel his length, hard and warm against the cleft of your ass. He humps against you for a moment like he can’t help himself, whining in your ear. Another sharp tug to the leash snaps him out of it. He nervously grabs a condom from his nightstand and slides it on with shaky hands. 

“Good idea, puppy, good boy,” you coo and he preens under the praise. He mounts you properly, his tip pressing to your entrance, and you feel his whole body shuddering behind you. You give another tug on the leash and he starts to sink into you. He’s very vocal, whining and groaning in your ear as he settles in. He kneads thoughtlessly at the flesh of your hips and waist, mumbling choked-out sobs of thank you as he twitches within you. You can tell this isn’t going to last long. He starts to hump you tactlessly, blindly chasing his release, whimpering pathetically from the pleasure of your tight heat around him. “Such a needy puppy,” you purr and he whines louder because he is exactly that, he can’t control himself, reduced into a pathetic mess by you. His hips snap against yours at an erratic pace, his face burying into your neck. He’s panting like he’s in heat, desperately placing sloppy open-mouthed kisses against your neck. Everything he read about good sex is out the window as he humps you needily. He gasps shakily, letting out several choked sobs as he approaches climax. He holds you incredibly tight to him, a brief reminder of the physical strength he has over you despite his submission.

“Please, can I? Please,” he sobs. You contemplate trying to make him hold back, but you decide that’s for next time. As soon as you give him the go-ahead he stills, cumming thick ropes into the condom, quivering inside you. He wails in pleasure, body collapsing on top of yours. You tug his leash, making him roll off of you with a soft grunt. You lie side by side for a moment, breathing heavily, the room smelling strongly of sex even over the scented candle. Josh relishes the scent completely, knowing it’s coming from what the two of you did together. You shuffle into his arms, softly unhooking the leash from the collar and setting it aside. You trace the collar on his neck.

“How was that? Being my puppy?” you ask gently. He stares up at you, eyes hazy.

“Y-yeah, amazing… wow…” his arm curves around your back, pulling you gently to him, needing some touch right now. You wrap an arm around him in return and peck his lips.

“Wanna do it again sometime?”

“Please, yeah,” he chuckles, smiling dopily at you. 

“I always got the vibe from you that you’d like this kind of thing,” you smile, revealing why you’ve been inserting yourself so thoroughly into his life. “A perfect puppy all for me,” 

“I didn’t even know it about myself, but I… really did… I’ll be your puppy any day,” he admits with a little flush. You nuzzle your nose against his. He chuckles, enjoying the genuine affection from you, something he’s been completely starved of. 

“So, I seem to remember that food is on you?” you tease. 

“Not literally right? Like some sort of food kink?” he asks, fingers twitching against your back. You laugh.

“No, in a very regular way, I promise,” you soothe, rubbing his chest. He laughs.

“I can never really know with you, it seems,”

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