Until recently, Kurt had only ever filmed himself.

He'd tried the "normal" path first— painfully earnest tutorials, vape unboxings that nobody asked for, daily vlogs where he'd ramble about nothing like it was profound wisdom. Shoot. Edit. Upload. Repeat. The views stayed stuck at double digits. Comments were mostly bots or people straight-up telling him to delete his account and disappear.

So he pivoted.

If the internet didn't want him informative or relatable, maybe it wanted him raw. Exposed. Desperate.

He didn't think it'd actually work. Why would it? He'd never been the guy anyone noticed. In school he was background static—or worse, the easy punchline. No girl had ever looked at him like she was starving. No one had ever wanted him like that.

Still, he hit record.

Three videos. That's literally all it fucking took.

Three shaky, harshly lit, way-too-long clips dumped at 3 a.m. like dirty confessions.

And somehow… it clicked.

Followers started climbing. DMs flooded in. Notifications pinged with tips, subs, custom requests. People started typing his name like it tasted good in their mouths.

It wasn't love. It wasn't real connection.

But it was attention.

And for Kurt, attention was enough.

You found him by accident.

You barely touch Twitter anymore. You were just killing time, thumb flicking mindlessly, when a thirty-second clip auto-played. You almost swiped past.

Almost.

Something made you pause. Then tap.

@KurtsWorld69 8,418 followers. Cam link pinned. OnlyFans in bio.

Instant cringe crawled up your spine.

That username alone should have ended it.

The bio was somehow worse.

Yet you kept scrolling.

It was pathetic.

The emojis. The fake-laugh confidence. The way he tried to play it off like he wasn’t literally jerking off for strangers’ validation.

And still—you didn’t close the app.

It was cringey. Stupid. Borderline embarrassing.

But you watched every single video that night.

Curiosity? Sure. Morbid fascination? Definitely. Same Kurt every time: flushed cheeks, messy hair flopping into his eyes, staring straight into the lens like it could touch him back. Like he needed the camera to tell him he was good. Needed someone—anyone—to want him.

By the third video your thighs were already clenched tight. Heat coiled low and heavy in your belly. Your breathing turned shallow, uneven.

You didn’t even register your hand slipping under the waistband of your panties until your fingers met drenched, swollen heat.

“Fuck,” you breathed, barely audible.

You didn’t stop.

On screen, Kurt’s shirt was bunched between his teeth, jaw clenched so hard the muscle jumped. His tummy flexed with every rough pump of his fist around his cock—thick, flushed, leaking at the tip. He was loud. Shamelessly loud. Broken moans and whimpers spilling out like he couldn’t cage them anymore. No fake porn-star groans—just raw, needy, unfiltered sounds that hit you like a punch.

It shouldn’t have worked.

It did.

You propped the phone against your pillow, volume low, his ragged breathing filling the dark room like he was panting right against your ear.

You hit follow before common sense could catch up.

Then killed the light.

You lasted maybe thirty seconds in the pitch black before your hand was back between your legs—slower now, deliberate. Fingers dragging through your own slick before plunging inside. You gasped when your fingertips grazed your clit—already so sensitive it almost hurt. Your hips rolled up instinctively, back arching off the mattress.

You pictured him.

That same pleading stare aimed at you instead of a lens. That same desperate edge. All that pent-up hunger with nowhere to go except his own fist… until you imagined it going somewhere else.

What if those shaking hands gripped your thighs instead? What if that wrecked voice begged against your throat while he fucked into you—deep, frantic, like he couldn’t get close enough?

Your fingers curled, thumb circling tight. You matched the rhythm from memory—the wet slap of his hand, the hitched “fuck—yeah—please—” leaking from the speaker.

You told yourself it was just curiosity.

Curiosity doesn’t make your thighs quake like that.

Curiosity doesn’t make you bite your knuckles raw to keep quiet.

When you finally came it wasn’t gentle. It ripped through you—sharp, sudden, almost violent. Your cunt clenched hard around your fingers, slick dripping down your wrist, a choked whimper of his name muffled into your palm.

Your body stayed hot. Oversensitive. Breath still ragged.

You lay there staring at the ceiling, aftershocks pulsing faintly, the room heavier, quieter.

Then—

Buzz.

You flinched.

Another buzz.

Heart slamming back into your throat, you rolled over. Screen glowed in the dark.

@KurtsWorld69 followed you back.

You stared. Blinked. Stared again.

No fucking way.

You hadn’t liked. Hadn’t commented. Just… followed.

Pulse roaring, you tapped anyway.

His profile loaded. Same dumb bio. Same try-hard energy.

Except now: Follows you.

Your mouth went dry.

Had he scrolled your page? Seen the unfiltered you—the beach pic with the crooked bikini top, the blurry concert selfie where you’re laughing too hard, the candid where you look soft and real?

Another notification.

A DM.

From him.

You waited three full heartbeats before opening it.

“Hey :)”

Too casual. Probably automated. A funnel script. “Hey cutie, special discount just for you 😉”

You should’ve ignored it.

You didn’t.

You typed. Deleted. Typed again.

You: Hi

Sent.

Typing bubble instantly.

He’d been waiting.

Kurt: oh shit hi Kurt: didn’t think you’d actually reply lol Kurt: you’re real right?? not a bot 😭

You huffed a quiet laugh through your nose. Not what you expected.

Kurt: sorry that sounded dumb af Kurt: i just get so many fake accounts Kurt: but your pics are… normal. like actually normal

Normal.

He’d seen them.

Your skin prickled, suddenly hyper-aware he’d looked.

Kurt: anyway Kurt: hi :)

That stupid smiley again.

For a second you considered blocking him. Thumb hovered over the dots.

This was stupid. Humiliating. Dangerous in the pettiest, most pathetic way.

You’d literally come five minutes ago fantasizing about him.

And now he was here. In your DMs. Acting like some awkward guy saying hi.

Shame hit late and hard—crawling up your neck, burning your cheeks in the dark. He didn’t know. Of course he didn’t. But you did.

You could end it. Block. Pretend it never happened.

He’d think you were a bot.

Your thumb dropped.

You typed instead.

You: yeah I’m real You: promise I’m not here to sell you crypto

You cringed at yourself.

Typing bubble popped up immediately.

Kurt: LMAO okay good Kurt: that would be actually tragic 😅 Kurt: imagine getting scammed by my own followers 🥺🥺 #notcool

A pause.

Then:

Kurt: sooooo… Kurt: what made you follow me? 👀

Your stomach twisted—different heat now. Sharper. More exposed.

What the fuck do you even say?

I binged your whole page and came so hard thinking about your cock I forgot how to breathe?

You shifted under the sheets, bare skin sliding against fabric, still slick between your thighs.

Kurt: wait !! don’t ghost pls Kurt: i was just curious 🥺 Kurt: i mean… i’m just asking 😏 nothing weird unless you want it to be weird… then i’m 100% in 😳

Heat flooded your face. He was terrible at this—awkward, over-explaining, spiraling—but god, it was working. Your cunt gave a traitorous throb.

Kurt: be honest… Kurt: you followed cuz you think i’m hot right? Kurt: …don’t you? 😏

Your heart hammered. Shame and want twisted together until they were the same thing.

You: maybe

Instant.

Kurt: oh 😳 Kurt: okay… wow Kurt: that’s… uh… really flattering lol Kurt: and also kinda hot that you just said it 😏

You rolled your eyes, fighting a stupid grin even as your cheeks burned.

You: don’t get used to it

Kurt: lol i won’t…Kurt: unless you want me to 😏

You leaned back against the headboard, thumb hovering, smiling despite yourself.

You: we’ll see.

He didn’t reply right away.

Maybe he was already stroking himself again—thinking about you this time. About the “maybe.” About what your voice would sound like moaning his name instead of just typing it.

You set the phone down, heart still racing, thighs still slick.

Because whatever this was, it definitely wasn’t over.

The silence after “we’ll see” settles like fog—thick, quiet, impossible to ignore.

Thursday is empty. No ping at dawn with some frantic “you still there???” No panicked voice note rambling apologies. No blurry selfie begging “pls don’t hate me”with big puppy eyes and messy hair. You wake up half-expecting it, half-dreading it, and when nothing comes you feel oddly off-balance.

During your mid-morning coffee break you check his profile anyway, telling yourself it’s just curiosity. Follower count now 9,312. A pinned post from yesterday teases:

hey kurties ! late night live in 20 👀 come say hi 😎✌️

You close the app fast, cheeks burning with how ridiculous you feel. He’s a cam guy. Thousands watch him every week. You’re just some random who stumbled into his orbit.

You spend the rest of the day telling yourself to block him. Delete the chat. Go back to normal life—spreadsheets, endless traffic, burnt office coffee. But you don’t unfollow him on Twitter. You just leave it. Like a door you’re not ready to slam shut.

Friday afternoon, 3:58 p.m., he finally breaks through.

Kurt: hey …  🥺 Kurt: didn’t wanna doubletext like a desperate loser but i’ve been staring at our chat since that night Kurt: “we’ll see” is officially haunting me LOL Kurt: sorry if that’s pathetic :/

You’re home now, kicking off your heels in the entryway, still in the wrinkled pencil skirt and blouse that smell faintly of toner and stale meetings. The message lands low and warm, like fingertips brushing the back of your neck. You change into soft shorts and a tank top, buy yourself time by staring into the fridge like it holds the answers, then reply anyway.

You: Hey You: Not pathetic

Kurt: FR ??!  😳 Kurt: okay okay that just Kurt: made my whole day hehe Kurt: did a live last night actually 😎 Kurt: peaked at like 1,180 viewers Kurt: some girl tipped big for a custom but i kept restarting bc my head was elsewhere 😭

You huff a quiet laugh into the empty kitchen. You saw the teaser post. He knows you’re still following even though you didn’t reply all day, didn’t engage, didn’t tip, didn’t do anything. Still here. Still watching from the sidelines.

The chat drifts for a long while—easy, almost normal.

You complain about the 405 traffic that made you twenty minutes late and the coworker who “forgets” to mute every single call. He sends a blurry photo of one of his dogs on the floor by his gaming chair, tongue lolling out like he’s judging the whole situation:

professional distraction,, he thinks the whole apartment is his throne !! 😡😡

You reply laughing and a picture of your half-dead succulent on the windowsill:

Tired as fuck zzzz

He asks what kind of music you’ve been replaying lately; you mention that one indie playlist that’s been on loop. He sends back three voice notes—his voice softer than in his videos, hesitant and stumbling over his words, a little raspy as he laughs at himself and admits he tried to film earlier but couldn’t focus on anything except your messages. You send a short one back, teasing him gently. He floods the chat with heart-eyes and:

your voice is literally perfect WTF i’m smiling like an idiot now LOL 🥲

It’s comfortable. Too comfortable.

Saturday night, 9:42 p.m., you’re already in bed scrolling when he shifts the tone.

Kurt: can i like be honest for a sec Kurt: you don’t have to answer if it’s weird 🥺

You: Go ahead

Kurt: i keep wondering what you look like when you’re  .. Kurt: alone ?? Kurt: like thinking about me Kurt: maybe like Kurt: touching yourself Kurt: that’s creepy right Kurt: i’m SORRY 😭😭

You set the phone face-down on the nightstand. Walk to the bathroom, splash cold water on your face, stare at your reflection in the mirror. This is insane. He comes on camera for strangers every week. Thousands watch, tip, beg for more. You barely know him. What if he’s recording this? What if tomorrow he posts a screenshot somewhere? What if you regret every single second? Your pulse is already racing, heat pooling low despite every warning light in your head. You come back to bed, hesitate a full minute, thumbs hovering.

You: It’s not creepy You: I do think about you

Kurt: fuck Kurt: okay thats Kurt: wow Kurt: i’m getting hard just from you saying that Kurt: is that too much ??

You hesitate again—thumb frozen over the keyboard. Part of you wants to type “yes, too much, goodnight.” The other part is already soaked, thighs pressing together under the covers, imagining him right now in that dim room.

You: No You: Show me

The photo loads almost instantly. Dim bedroom light, hoodie shoved up to his chest. Slim, soft torso—no cut abs, just pale skin with a faint happy trail of dark hair trailing down from his navel. Scattered moles dot his chest and stomach like tiny perfect beauty marks, the kind that look almost deliberate, warm and human under the lamp glow. Boxers pushed low, hand wrapped tight around a thick, flushed cock curving upward—tip glistening and dripping pre-cum. He’s clearly been stroking for a while; the head is dark, slick, flushed deep.

Kurt: fuck Kurt: thats what you did to me Kurt: just from you saying you think about me … Kurt: i’m shaking rn Kurt: your turn?? Kurt: pls? Kurt: only if you want Kurt: no pressure I SWEAR 🥺

You stare at the photo longer than you should. Heat floods your belly, insistent and undeniable. Your clit throbs even before you touch. You stand, tug your shorts and panties down just enough—dark wet spot already soaking through the fabric, clinging to your swollen folds, a visible damp patch spreading. No face. Just the evidence. Send.

Kurt: OH MY GOD Kurt: you’re fucking soaked Kurt: that wet spot Kurt: shit Kurt: i can see how puffy your lips are through the fabric Kurt: i’m literally shaking harder now

You sit on the edge of the bed, heart hammering. Your hand slips between your legs over the fabric, slow hesitant circles over your clit through the cotton. You’re dripping already, slick seeping through. The hesitation is still there—loud, screaming—but your body doesn’t care.

You: Tell me what you would do if you were here with me right now

His typing bubble appears, disappears, appears again. Then the messages start flooding in, frantic and explicit.

Kurt: fuuuckk Kurt: ookay Kurt: my hand is shaking so bad i can barely type Kurt: i’d walk in and kiss your neck first Kurt: then drop to my knees Kurt: spread your thighs wide Kurt: drag my tongue over your panties first Kurt: just to taste how soaked you are for me Kurt: pull them aside Kurt: bury my face Kurt: lick slow circles around your clit suck it into my mouth Kurt: push two fingers inside you, curl them while i keep eating you out Kurt: make you come on my tongue Kurt: i’ve never done this irl so i’d probably be messy AF Kurt: but i’d try so fucking hard to make you feel good

You: You wouldn’t be messy You: Keep going

You push your panties aside completely now—two fingers sliding deep into your dripping cunt, curling, pumping slow while your thumb grinds tight circles on your swollen clit. Breath coming faster.

Kurt: o ok Kurt: okay Kurt: then i’d stand up Kurt: rub my cock against your clit Kurt: teasing Kurt: push in slow inch by inch watching your lips stretch around me Kurt: yk i’m a virgin LOL Kurt: i know that’s kinda pathetic, no one ever wanted me irl Kurt: but you do, right?

You: Yes

Kurt: fuck Kurt: okay Kurt: i’d go slow at first Kurt: then once i’m all the way inside i’d lose it Kurt: fuck you deep and messy and hard Kurt: probably come embarrassingly fast the first time Kurt: but i’d stay hard for you, keep going Kurt: i want to be good for you Kurt: fill you up Kurt: watch it drip down your thighs Kurt: breed you so deep you feel me for hours Kurt: idk why that part gets me so fucking hard

The confession hits like gasoline on fire. You add a third finger, stretching yourself, pumping faster, thumb frantic on your clit. The room feels too hot, too small.

You: I’m so close already

Kurt: fuck yes Kurt: me too Kurt: stroking faster now Kurt: picturing your pussy clenching around my fingers Kurt: or my tongue Kurt: or my cock Kurt: i’m Kurt: shit

You shatter hard—back arching off the mattress, thighs trembling violently, a choked “Kurt—” breaking into the dark room before you clamp your hand over your mouth. Slick gushes over your fingers, soaking your hand and the sheets beneath you.

His messages flood in seconds later, messy and frantic.

Kurt: coming Kurt: fuck Kurt: so much

A photo loads; thick ropes of cum streaked across his soft stomach, caught in the happy trail and those scattered perfect moles like little stars, pooling in the dip of his navel. His cock still twitching in his loose grip, last bead dripping from the slit. Chest flushed.

Kurt: … holy shit Kurt: i’m actually shaking 😭 Kurt: came so hard i think i blacked out for a second LOL Kurt: that was insane  .. Kurt: but idk i don’t wanna keep doing this over text Kurt: we’re both in LA right?? Kurt: i could drive over tomorrow night after you get off work Kurt: protection or not i don’t care ATP 😅 Kurt: i just need to feel you for real Kurt: no recording stuff ofc !! Kurt: i’ll be SO good i swear Kurt: PLEASE say yes 🥺

You lie there panting, thighs sticky and trembling, heart hammering against your ribs. Every rational thought screams no—this is a stranger, a cam guy with thousands of fans, what if he’s not who he seems, what if it’s awkward or worse, what if you regret opening this door you can’t close? But your body is still pulsing, clenching around nothing, and the image of him showing up at your door—nervous, inexperienced, desperate and real—makes you clench again.

You stare at the ceiling for a long minute, phone heavy in your hand. Then your thumbs move before the doubt can win.

You: Yes You: Tomorrow night. My place. Around 11. You: I’ll send you the address You: Don’t overthink it. Just show up.

Kurt: fuck Kurt: yes Kurt: i’ll be there Kurt: thank you thank you thank you !!!!!!! 😭 Kurt: i can’t believe this is actually happening

You set the phone down in the dark, city lights flickering through the blinds outside. Tomorrow. No more screens. Just him—awkward, needy, painfully real despite everything.

And no matter how many times you tell yourself this is crazy, you’re already counting the hours.

The apartment feels too quiet in the hour before 11:00 p.m.

You’ve spent the day channeling anxiety into motion: scrubbing counters that were already spotless, remaking the bed with fresh sheets that still carry the sharp, clean bite of detergent. In front of the mirror you stood far too long, holding up jeans, then a tighter top, then leggings—each option feeling wrong in its own particular way: too deliberate, too casual, too obvious, not obvious enough. In the end you pulled the black cotton sundress from the back of the closet. Sleeveless. Thin straps. Hem skimming just above mid-thigh. Loose enough to pretend this was casual, light enough that the fabric would slide up easily if things went that way. Nothing desperate. Nothing calculated. You were lying to yourself the whole time.

You almost texted him to cancel. Draft after draft: actually maybe not tonight, headache, long day. Every time your thumb hovered over send, you remembered last night—his cracked “thank you” like you’d handed him something fragile and rare; the photos he sent; the way you’d come whispering his name into an empty room like a secret you weren’t supposed to keep.

You didn’t cancel.

At 11:01 p.m. three soft knocks—careful, almost scared, like he’s afraid of waking someone who isn’t even asleep.

Through the peephole: Kurt, green hoodie zipped to his chin, hair falling messily into his eyes, shifting from foot to foot. A small paper bag dangles from his white-knuckled grip.

You open the door.

And there he is.

The guy you found by pure accident on Twitter—@KurtsWorld69, the one with the ridiculous username. Real. Not a clip. Not a thumbnail you tapped out of curiosity. Him.

Your stomach flips, a quick, dizzy rush of disbelief. A soft, almost amused laugh slips out—more exhale than anything. “Can't believe this is happening.” You mouthed.

He freezes. Eyes widen behind the fringe. Mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

“Hey…” The word cracks. He clears his throat, tries again softer, grin too big. “Hi. Fuck. You look… insanely good. Yeah. Hi. Sorry, I’m already short-circuiting.”

You step aside. “Come in before the neighbors think I’m harboring a fugitive.”

He huffs a small, relieved laugh—real this time—and slips inside. Door clicks shut. Outdoor light dies. Just the warm amber glow from the living-room lamp now, soft and forgiving, turning the edges of everything golden.

He stops two steps inside, clutching the bag like armor. Eyes flick everywhere: couch, windows, the faint mix of your perfume and yesterday’s takeout. He looks ready to bolt, then squares his shoulders, summoning the same bright energy he uses on camera.

“Brought… stuff,” he says, lifting the bag a fraction. “Condoms—obviously. Waters. And gummy bears. I panicked at the store trying to guess what you’d actually want after… y’know. Or during. Fuck, saying it out loud sounds so dumb. Sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous. Like right now. Hi again.”

You lean back against the door, arms loosely crossed. “You okay?”

He nods too quickly. “Yeah. Totally.” He rubs the back of his neck, cheeks pink. “Okay, maybe freaking out a little. In a good way. Thousands watch me jerk off on stream every week, but this? This is you. In your apartment. With gummy bears. I’m… stupid happy I’m here.” He swallows, voice dropping lower. “Also… been hard since I left my place. Like, painfully. Had to sit in the car reciting license plates just to calm down enough to walk up here.”

You study him. Taller than the camera angles ever made him look, but still slim—lean shoulders, soft middle you already know by heart. His hands—surprisingly large—flex nervously at his sides. The nervous buzz rolling off him is electric, but underneath it that familiar extroverted spark flickers.

You push off the door and close the distance slowly. He doesn’t step back. Just watches, dark eyes tracking every step.

When you’re close enough to catch the faint woodsy bite of his cheap cologne, you reach up and ease his zipper down a few inches. His breath hitches.

You can feel it already—the unmistakable hard line of him pressed against your thigh through the denim, straining, insistent. You’ve known since the moment he stepped inside; the way he’s been shifting, the faint flush creeping up his neck, the way his eyes keep darting down to your mouth and then away like he’s trying not to stare. He’s not subtle. He’s never been subtle.

“So... you've been hard since you left your place, am I right?” you say, voice low, teasing. Inside, doubt spins quietly: stranger, bad idea, what if he ghosts, what if tomorrow feels empty? Your body ignores all of it, already warm and tightening, pulse heavy between your legs.

His eyes snap to yours, wide and glassy. A choked sound escapes him—half laugh, half whimper. “Yeah,” he breathes, voice wrecked already. “Fuck yeah. Since I locked my door. Since I got in the car. Kept having to adjust myself like some desperate teenager. I’m… sorry? I mean—not sorry. Just—yeah. You do that to me.”

He swallows hard, Adam’s apple jumping, cheeks burning brighter under the lamp glow.

You let your hand linger a moment longer, feeling the heat of him through the fabric, the faint twitch when your fingers curl just slightly. Then you slide both palms under his hoodie instead, pressing flat against the warm, trembling skin of his stomach.

“Good,” you say quietly, thumb brushing the soft line of hair trailing down from his navel. “I like knowing.”

His whole body shudders at the words. Eyes flutter half-closed.

You kiss him first—slow, careful, testing.

He melts into it with a helpless little noise, kissing back messy and hungry at first—too eager, a little sloppy—then softer, like he’s terrified of ruining it. His big hands find your waist, fingers curling, pulling you flush until there’s no space left between you, until you can feel every inch of how badly he’s been aching for this.

Foreheads resting together. Breathing ragged.

“Bedroom?” you ask.

He nods fast. “Yeah. Lead the way.”

You turn. He follows—stumbles once on the edge of the rug in the hall, catches himself with a quiet “shit—” and you both huff soft laughs under your breath like teenagers sneaking around.

Bedroom door open. Lamp low. Gold light pooling across the sheets. You push him gently until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. He drops to sit, knees spread, looking up at you with those huge honey eyes—pupils blown, lips parted, cheeks blotchy red.

“Can I see you?” Voice cracks on the last word. “The dress… please? No pressure. I just… you’re so beautiful.”

Doubt flickers—quick and bright—but you step back and pull the black dress over your head in one smooth motion. No bra. Just the black cotton panties already clinging damp between your thighs. His gaze drops, pupils blowing wide.

“Fuck…” Almost reverent. “You’re… holy shit. Perfect. Actually perfect. Can I touch? Please?”

You nod.

His hands come up—shaking at first—cup your breasts gently, thumbs brushing over nipples that pebble instantly. He exhales like he’s been punched. “So soft… so warm… fuck, your skin…”

You climb into his lap, straddle him, roll down once against the bulge in his jeans. He groans deep, head tipping back, hands flying to your hips.

“Off,” you murmur, tugging his hoodie.

He yanks it over his head in one frantic motion—hair staticky, wild. Bare chest now: lean but soft in the middle, moles like stars, happy trail dark and inviting. You drag your nails lightly down his sternum; he shivers hard, goosebumps rising.

You tug at his belt loops. “Jeans.”

He fumbles—buttons, zipper, shoves denim and boxers down in a rush. Cock springs free—heavy, flushed dark, tip slick and leaking steadily. Thicker than the pics. Harder.

He’s trembling just from being exposed. “Shit… look how hard I am. All for you. Been like this since I left home.”

You shimmy out of your panties. He stares, chest rising and falling fast.

You wrap your hand around him—firm, slow stroke. He jerks up into your grip with a choked “oh fuck—your hand—so much better than mine—”

You chuckle softly. “First time anyone’s touched you like this, huh?”

He nods frantically. “Yeah. Never… fuck. Feels… unreal.”

You guide him to your entrance, sink down slow. The stretch is exquisite—thick, hot, filling you inch by inch until he’s seated fully inside. Your inner walls flutter around him instinctively, adjusting to the fullness, the heat radiating from him. He’s trembling beneath you, every muscle locked tight.

“Breathe,” you whisper.

He tries. A shaky laugh escapes. “If you move I’m gonna lose it so fast. Swear. You feel too good.”

You start small—tiny rolls of your hips, grinding in slow circles so your clit drags against the coarse hair at his base. Pleasure sparks low in your belly with every motion, building in lazy waves. He groans low, hands gripping your thighs, fingers digging in just enough to leave faint marks.

“Yeah… fuck, roll like that. Just like that. Don’t stop. Feels perfect.”

You lift and drop once—harder this time. The sudden depth makes you gasp, a sharp bloom of sensation spreading through your core. He bucks up on instinct, chasing the feeling, and the friction sends another jolt straight to your clit.

From there it’s rhythm: steady at first, then faster, grinding down so every stroke rubs you exactly right. His hands roam—waist, hips, breasts—holding on like you might vanish. He doesn’t talk much now—just short, desperate sounds: “fuck,” “so good,” swallowed moans when you clench around him deliberately, testing how it makes him twitch inside you.

“So good,” he pants. “Better than anything. Fuck—I’m—” He stills you suddenly, hands gentle on your hips. Panting against your throat. “Wait—want you to come first. Can I taste you? Please? Need to make you feel good. Really need it.”

You nod, pulse racing.

He flips you carefully—settles between your thighs, spreads you open slow, reverent. “So pretty… so wet… all for me? Fuck, that’s hot. Tell me if I mess up, okay?”

Broad lick up your folds. The first contact is electric—warm, wet tongue dragging slow and deliberate. Then focused—soft sucks, tongue circling your clit in tight, patient loops. You thread fingers through his hair; he moans into you, the vibration traveling straight through your core. Pleasure coils tighter, building in slow, insistent pulses.

“Like that? Tell me… fuck, you taste so sweet… driving me crazy…”

“Circles,” you gasp. “Slower.”

He obeys instantly. “Like this? God—tell me if it’s good… wanna be perfect for you.” Two fingers slide in—curl slow, searching, pressing against that sensitive spot inside until your hips lift off the mattress. “Tight… wet… fuck, am I okay? Please tell me.”

“Good,” you breathe, voice shaky. The combination is overwhelming: his tongue flicking steady, fingers stroking in perfect rhythm, the soft, needy sounds he makes against your skin. Heat surges, coiling low and tight until it snaps—your thighs clamp around his head, back arching, his name spilling out in a broken cry as waves crash through you, sharp and consuming.

He pulls back slow, chin glistening, grinning wide and dazed. “You okay? Fuck… you came so hard. Felt it. So hot.”

“Yeah,” you pant, chest heaving. “Really good.”

He crawls up, kisses you deep—lets you taste yourself on his tongue, salty-sweet and intimate. “Inside again? Please? Need to feel you. Need it bad.”

You pull him close. He settles on top of you, weight comforting, grounding. He pushes in carefully, groaning the whole way down. “So tight. Warm. Perfect.”

He bottoms out and stays still, trembling, forehead pressed to yours. “Can I move? Please?”

You nod.

Slow thrusts first—deep, careful, savoring every slide. Words spill between breaths: “Feels so good… love how you squeeze… tight… perfect… don’t stop… gonna lose it… so fucking good…”

You whisper “Good boy” once.

He shudders hard. “Fuck—say it again? Please? Makes me… yeah.”

“You’re such a good boy, Kurt…” The words come between soft whines as he hits deeper, the praise making him thrust harder, more desperate.

Pace builds. Then he snaps—harder, deeper, hips snapping with raw need. “Gonna come,” he rasps. “Inside—can I—please? Wanna fill you… need to… please say yes.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Pill.”

He buries himself deep—comes with a long broken moan, hot pulses flooding inside you. The sensation tips you again—clenching hard around him, gasping as another orgasm ripples through, softer this time but no less intense, your body milking every last tremor from him.

You collapse together—sweaty, shaking, hearts slamming against each other.

He stays inside a minute longer, kissing your shoulder, collarbone—soft, open-mouthed. “You okay? Was I… too much? Too fast? I talk too much, I know—”

You lace fingers with his. “You were perfect.”

He exhales, shaky relief. “Really?”

“Really.”

You feel him smile against your skin. He pulls out gentle, grabs a warm cloth from the bathroom, cleans you both—careful, tender, almost worshipful.

Climbs back under the covers, curls around you—face in your neck, arm across your waist, leg slung over yours.

You hum, tracing lazy patterns on his back. His breathing evens out slowly. You card fingers through his damp hair. “Stay tonight. Sleep here.”

He stills. Lifts head just enough—eyes searching, vulnerable. “You sure? Like… really sure?”

“Yeah. Want you to.”

Something soft and wrecked flickers across his face. “Thank you… Fuck… thank you. For this.”

Quiet stretches—warm, easy. His breathing slows, body heavy against yours.

Then, sleepy murmur: “Hey… random thing.” Thumb brushes your hip under the blanket. “What if… sometime… we recorded something? Just us. You’d be totally anonymous—no face, no voice, nothing. Could be hot. Fun. No pressure. Just… putting it out there.”

You stare at the ceiling a beat. His heart thumps steady against your side.

“We’ll see,” you say softly.

He laughs quiet against your throat—happy, sleepy. “There it is again. ‘We’ll see.’ Those are my favorite words now… for real!”

You turn your head, meet his eyes. “Maybe,” you murmur. “We’ll see.”

He chuckles—low, warm—pulls you closer. “That’s enough for me. For now. But, seriously, like… You would totally get so much clout! I mean, you’re so pretty and I’m sure my followers would love to… know you? I mean, like your sexy-anonymous-internet sona, or whatever.. so there’s this—”

He starts rambling again, words tumbling out in that familiar, nervous rush. You simply listen, letting the sound wash over you without paying close attention. Something in your chest feels warm, at ease, comfortable—quietly surprised by how right it all feels in this moment.

The lamp glows. City hums outside.

Night stretches—warm, quiet, open-ended.

“babe,” he whispers, his voice full of sleep, but still soft as his face nuzzled deeper into your neck, his words coming out muffled. “are you awake?”

“mm?” you’re still half asleep as you respond, but you can feel kurt smile against your neck immediately. “what?”

he rolls you onto your back, keeping his leg thrown over yours, before practically dropping the rest of his body on top of you, still holding onto you as tight as he possibly can, like he thinks you’re just going to leave.

“it’s my birthday,” he says before a short, breathy moan escapes his lips as he grinds against your thigh. you hum in agreement, not opening your eyes and letting him drag his hips against you. kurt lets out a whine. “ba-uh-babe…”

“what?” you mumble, turning your head and doing your best to bury your face deeper into the pillow beneath it, your words almost slurring together, speaking raspily. “kurt, what time is it? ‘s too early.”

“it’s, um–shit–it’s, like, five,” kurt answers, then places a gentle kiss to your throat, where his face has been hiding. “just… i need you.”

“i gave you a blowjob at midnight, baby,” you point out, letting his grip around you tighten. his nose rubs against your neck as he raises his head to look you in the eyes, only to find yours closed, and he frowns. “jus’ go back to sleep for a bit, kurtie.”

“but, babe,” he whines, practically humping your thigh like a dog in heat now. though, you won’t lie, the act had caused a tingling warmth to bubble in your stomach, and a wetness to form inside the pair of your boyfriend’s boxers you’re wearing. “you– you said we could, like, do… what i want to do today. please? i just–fuck–i want you. please? please, i-i’ll be so good. i promise.”

“kurt,” you sigh, peeking one eye open, just to meet those big brown eyes giving you a pleading look, his bottom lip jutting out into a begging pout. it’s enough to make you give in. “okay, baby, fine. but only ‘cause i promised.”

kurt’s face lit up immediately, the frown on his face switching to a grin and the sadness in his eyes disappeared, a glimmer of hope shining in them now.

you look up at kurt’s face, already feeling more awake than before after opening both of your eyes, and a playful pout appeared on your own lips.

“aw, kurt, you’re just so cute,” you say, reaching one hand to grab his cheek, pinching at the pink-flushed skin. he pulls back, but he’s smiling. 

“hey, stop it,” he tells you, still blushing, and still smiling, sounding more embarrassed than anything. your palm flattens itself against the side of his face, moving up to push some of his hair back before you hold the side of his face. you lift yourself from the pillows and pull kurt down to kiss his lips.

he melts into it immediately, a soft sound escaping his lips at the contact as he sinks down on top of you, his leg still thrown over yours as one of his hands slides up your shirt to grab at your bare breast beneath it.

your hand slips away from his cheek and moves to the back of his neck, keeping his lips overlapped with yours, letting your tongue slip inside as he lets out a soft whimper. your other hand makes its way to the very little space between where kurt’s tummy is pressed against yours until your fingertips find the waistband of his boxers.

after giving your breast another squeeze, kurt pulls back from the kiss, a string of saliva keeping the two of you connected as his wide-blown pupils stare into you. 

“can i see ‘em? your– your boobies?” he asks, his other hand slipping beneath your shirt and touching the warm skin beneath. “i… i wanna suck one… or– or, like, both… can i? please?” 

you chuckle, then pull your hands away from him to grab at the hem of your–or, technically, his–t-shirt. “you’re the birthday boy.”

kurt grins again and watches as you lift your shirt over your head and toss it somewhere across your bedroom, discarding it on the ground, revealing your breasts to the cool air of the bedroom, and within seconds his mouth is latched onto the nipple of your right tit.

his tongue swirls around the sensitive peak as he sucks on your nipple, his hand squeezing your other breast, pinching at it. you let out a breathy moan of your own, hooking one leg around kurt’s back and arching your body upwards, grinding up against him. kurt whimpers softly, drooling around your tit.

your hands are back on his body; one’s in the back of his hair, fingers massaging into his scalp and holding his head to your breast, while the other digs into his shoulder blade, nails leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin, and kurt loves it.

he’s painfully hard in his boxers now, and feeling you grind against him doesn’t seem to be helping as he detaches himself from your nipple and lifts his head to look at you once more, his lips shining with his own spit.

“can i– i need… babe, i gotta–” he’s stammering over his words, blinking erratically. his eyes aren’t focused, like his brain is moving faster than his mouth can keep up with. “i want–”

he lets out a whine and juts his hips against you again, rolling his bulge against your clothed and soaking core.

“use your words, kurtie,” you whisper, pulling him down so your lips could attach themselves to his neck, leaving wet, slobbery, open-mouthed kisses to his throat, sucking on the skin to leave marks and soft bites that make him whimper.

“i gotta…” he swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing beneath your tongue as you drag it up his throat. he moans loudly, cutting himself off, and you smirk against his skin. “s-stop teasing. i wanna– i gotta be inside you, please, please, please, babe.”

“yeah?” you ask, your grip on his hair loosening so he can lift his neck away from your mouth. “you need me to take care of you, baby?”

“yes. yes, please,” he pleads, then leans down to kiss you, losing himself in your mouth, letting your tongues overlap and tangle against each other, groaning as you pull back, only to bite at his bottom lip a second later.

“where do you want me, birthday boy?” you ask and he finally pulls his hands away from your tits to drag them down your body, grabbing at your waist.

“on– on top,” he chokes out, letting you rake one hand down his chest, your fingers brushing through the patch of dark hair in the middle. “please, mama.”

“you’re so polite, kurt,” you giggle, pecking his lips before both of your hands settle on his shoulders and you carefully push him onto his back and throw one of your legs over his lap to straddle him, your clit brushing against his boner making you draw in a sharp breath. you shuffle back to hover above his thighs as your fingers reach for the waistband of his boxers and you pull them down. 

his cock springs out immediately, his red tip oozing with pre-cum, and kurt whimpers at the feeling while you bite your lip. you drag his underwear the rest of the way down his legs before throwing them away like you had to your shirt. you let saliva gather on your tongue before spitting down on your palm, then you reach forward to grab the base of his dick, pulling your hand upwards, spreading the spit towards his tip. as your thumb traces his slit, kurt’s hips jerk upwards and he lets out a low whine, and you spread his pre-cum down his shaft, hardly noticing the way you drag your hips against his thighs in search of friction.

as you stroke him, kurt stares up at you, his eyes blown wide with lust and love. he reaches forward, grabbing onto your hips, desperately wanting to touch you.

“such a good boy, kurt,” you purr, and you smile at the sound the name causes him to make. “always so good f’me, aren’t you?”

“y-yes,” he moans, bucking his hips up. “yes, mama.”

“good,” you say, then your hand slips away from his cock. kurt whines at the loss of contact, pouting again before he watches you pull the pair of his boxers you’re wearing down your hips and throw them away with the rest of your discarded clothing.

your hand returns to his dick a moment later as you shuffle back up the bed, hovering above him and slowly dragging his tip along your soaking folds.

when his tip makes contact with your hole, you both moan, and as you sink down on his cock, your pussy clamps around him tightly.

“fu-fuck, babe, you–” kurt throws his head back as another whimper escapes his lips, followed by a loud, desperate moan as he thrusts up into you. “so good. so wet, so tight.”

“all yours, kurtie,” you tell him, lifting your hips just to sink down on him again. “so wet just for you, baby.”

you’re quick to pick up the pace, riding him faster, your hands pressed against kurt’s chest for balance while he grabs at your tits again, biting his bottom lip and letting out another strangled groan.

“i’m– fuck, fuck, mama, y’feel so– uh– fuck,” he’s babbling now, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping onto you tighter, bucking up into you again. “need– ungh– ‘m gonna– babe… close…”

“you close, baby?” you ask and he nods quickly, whimpering once more. you pull one hand back from kurt’s chest to start rubbing circles against your clit, moaning at the feeling. “where do you wanna cum, kurtie?”

“in– mm, shit, i-i wanna… inside,” he’s lost in it now, hips jerking upwards into you, hitting that spot deep inside with a hard thrust. “please. can i cum inside?”

“it’s your birthday, kurt. we agreed, whatever you want,” you remind him between your own breathy moans, soft ‘uh, uh, uh’s escaping your lips with each rock of your hips. “you gonna cum?”

he nods, and after a few more thrusts, kurt lets out a long, and loud whine, his hands slipping away from your tits as you feel his cock twitch before he spills inside you. he keeps jerking his hips up, pushing deeper inside even after he’s finished filling you up.

with a few moans, still riding kurt and overstimulating his poor cock, pleasure washes over you like a wave, and kurt’s hips keep bucking up into you, riding out your orgasm before the feeling is too much and you drop down on top of him, sweat-coated skin sticking together as you both breathe slowly, attempting to catch your breath.

kurt’s hands slip around your middle again, pulling you in closer. he doesn’t pull out, his now-soft cock still inside of you and keeping you full.

you kiss one of the moles on his cheek, then one on his jaw, and another on his neck.

“i love you,” you tell him and he smiles, eyes already fluttering shut.

“i love you,” he whispers back, burying his face in your hair, his voice already thick and mumbly, like he’s falling back asleep already. “thank you.”

you kiss his cheek once more. “happy birthday, kurt.”

–

a/n: wow… i hope it’s not totally obvious that i’m actually a total loser virgin (omg just like kurt) wow it’s almost 6 am here oops i stayed up all night writing this, i hope u enjoyed. likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

You weren't sure what to think when your dad started dating Angela. He had seemed devastated when your mom left him, jetting off halfway across the globe with her new Italian toyboy, and leaving you, and your dad behind. Your dad had a few “girlfriends”, if you could even call them that. More like women that entertained him for a few weeks or months and then joined the others on his “been there done that” list. But he seemed to really like Angela.

You did too, she was nice, quiet but always welcoming, cooked a mean carbonara. But she treated you sweetly, like you were the daughter she never had.

Her son was annoying. Kurt was constantly glued to his phone like a teenager, refreshing his YouTube page to see if anyone new had followed him. Spoiler alert, they hadn't. And you weren't surprised. His channel consisted of videos of him reviewing water for Christ's sake. You'd watched his YouTube videos, mostly to find something that you could tease him about, his awkward stuttering in his room tour, the way his mom interrupted his review videos, the way he tried to promote his music as if it didn't sound like that one skeleton from Skyrim layered a hundred times.

The other problem with Kurt was that he was exactly your type. He was awkward, and shy, and had that floppy brown hair and hazel eyes combination that made your toes curl. He was the kind of guy that you would absolutely eat up if you met him in a bar or online. But now, his mom was dating your dad, and technically that made him your stepbrother, even if they weren't married, the line was there.

Sometimes, Kurt would stream while you were having your “bonding time”, enforced upon you by your parents. Kurt still lived at home with his mom. But you had your own apartment, you'd moved out when your parents split, because living with your dad was just too depressing. You'd have to go with your dad for “family” meals at Angela's house, and Kurt would be streaming in his bedroom while you sat on his bed, playing on your phone.

Sunday evening, you were barely paying attention to him as he read out messages from his stream, and answered them as he fidgeted with his rubix cube. Your ears caught the end of one of his sentences.

“..mom's boyfriend’s daughter.” He said, chewing on his bottom lip as he watched his screen, anticipating more messages. He was talking about you.

“What?” You said, startling him slightly as you threw down your phone and shuffled to the edge of his bed (floor mattress) and looked at the screen.

“They were just asking who you were.” He said, gesturing at the screen before turning back to read the messages that came through.

“No, don't be gross.” He said, wrinkling his nose as he read the message that flashed up. You leaned forward to read it.

User69: stepsis video on the OF would go crazy bro

“The OF?” You furrowed your eyebrows before you clocked on. “Onlyfans? Kurt, you have an Onlyfans?” You scoffed, your eyebrows shooting up as you smiled slightly, watching the flush creeping up his neck as he tried to delete the message.

“N-no. It was a joke. I don't-” he stuttered, clicking furiously as you laughed again.

“But you're a virgin aren't you? What is it just videos of you jerking off?” You said, your eyes flicking from the screen to his as he turned around to glare at you. His eyes locked onto yours and his jaw tensed.

“Don't.” He hissed before turning around to the new messages.

badgamer231: ooohhhhh! Stepsis taking your v card would go viral bro

“Stop it.” He said when you laughed again, his cursor moving to the button to end the stream before he turned in his chair to look down at you again.

“Why would you say that? It's not funny.” He said, refusing to meet your eyes and staring down at the floor.

“It is kinda funny.” You shrugged, picking up your phone again.

Kurt grumbled something unintelligible and turned back to his computer as you scrolled through your phone, laughing softly under your breath.

You watched him over dinner, the way he slumped onto one hand, his cheek squished against his palm, eyes fixed on his plate as he pushed potatoes around with his fork.

You were staring. You knew you were, watching the way his fingers held his fork, the way his fingers threaded through his hair behind his ear. You flicked your eyes away when he looked up, looking down at your own untouched plate.

When you risked a glance back up, he wasn't still looking at you, but his cheeks had turned a little pinker.

That was the first inappropriate thought you had about him, when you saw the flush on his cheeks, you imagined it in another context, his head thrown back, breathing heavily. You almost choked on your chicken and grabbed your water like you could wash the thought out.

Everyone looked at you as you coughed.

Unfortunately, curiosity got the better of you that night, lying in bed and drumming your fingers against the side of your phone. It wasn't… that wrong to be curious. He wasn't actually your step brother. Just the son of another woman your dad would get bored of in a few months. You found his Onlyfans linked in his YouTube profile. It wasn't an obvious link, you had to click through several until you found the right one. You huffed irritably when you had to sign up to the site, and half way through putting in a password, you almost stopped, almost registered what you were about to do.

Almost.

Kurt's page appeared once you'd signed up to the site. His profile picture was the same one he used everywhere, in that dark blue, camo print sweatshirt he always wore, holding up a peace sign. You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply before your thumb scrolled down his page.

The first video you saw was the most recent post, made just two days ago. It started out with him setting up the camera in what you recognised as the bathroom at his mom's house. He didn't talk, which was the weirdest part of it, the Kurt you knew didn't shut up. Ever. You watched the video as he lifted his shirt, pulling it over his head, his back to the camera, showing his little moles that dotted his back like a constellation.

He turned and your eyebrows shot up when you saw the hair on his chest. That hadn't been something you expected. You'd expected him to be smooth, but the hair was dark, and thick. You blinked as your eyes moved over his frame on the screen, his soft stomach, the way his hair was flopping into his eyes. You watched his hands move to his sweatpants.

This was the point you should stop. You should turn off the video and never look again. This was a line you couldn't uncross.

You didn't.

Kurt's sweatpants fell down his legs and your mouth fell open with them. Another thick, dark patch of hair framed his cock as it sprung up, standing erect, flushed, pink. Thick. You swallowed as you watched him wrap his hand around the base of his cock. You knew how big Kurt's hands were, so to see still more than half of his cock visible meant that the thing was big.

You passed the point of no return when he moved his hand, stroking himself slowly, his eyes watching himself in the camera.

Your tongue ran over your bottom lip as you watched his head fall forwards, hair hanging in his eyes as he stroked himself. Then he moaned. A soft, pathetic noise. You felt the throb between your legs at the noise, and your thumb hovered over the pause button on the video. But you didn't press it.

You watched as he climbed into the shower, the water droplets beading down his shoulders, his chest, catching in the patch of hair. His head tilted back into the stream as his hand stayed wrapped around his cock, his pace increasing slightly. You didn't register the way you were gnawing on your bottom lip until you tasted blood.

His cock had grown harder, the tip had darkened, the vein underneath had swollen. He stroked himself faster, another moan falling from his throat that sent another throb between your legs, your thighs pressing together. He flipped his wet hair back, running his free hand through it as he leaned back against the tile wall.

His moans turned to whimpers, and your mind went blank, your hand slid underneath your pyjamas. Your fingers brushed your clit, swollen and sensitive, before moving down through your soaked folds.

On your phone, Kurt's head tilted backwards, soft gasps and whimpers fell from his lips. His hand moved faster, and you moved your fingers back up to your clit, your lips parting as you watched Kurt’s stomach tensing with each slick noise of his hand. You slid one finger inside yourself, curling upwards as your thumb circled your clit.

You watched as Kurt whimpered, his free hand curling into a fist by his side as his cock twitched, growing harder before he was cumming over the tiles, spilling over his own hand, with the most pathetic whimper you'd ever heard, and a soft, breathy “fuck”.

You scrolled to the next video as your finger moved, thumb circling faster, your core tightening. A closer up angle of his cock, thick and leaking. You watched a string of spit fall into frame, landing on the tip of his cock, and dripping down his length.

Your back arched as you came, you clenched tight around your finger, a soft moan spilling from your lips.

You lowered your phone to the bed, breathing heavily as you stared up at the dark ceiling, processing that you had just made yourself cum to your (kind of) step brother's jacking off videos. You rolled over, pressing your face into your pillow, the best case scenario here was that you suffocated. But you'd also take falling asleep so you didn't have to think about what you'd just done.

In the week that passed between when you found his videos and when you saw him again, you watched him every night. You watched every single one of his videos, jerking off in the shower, the car, his bedroom. The noise of his moans was ingrained into your brain. And you had made yourself cum every single night, listening to his moans, watching his throbbing cock, and his flushed cheeks.

You couldn't look at him the same. Every time your eyes met his, your mind supplied you with the image of his head tilted back, eyes closed, and lips parted around soft whimpers.

You flinched as his hand touched yours when you were helping clean the dishes, pulling away like his touch burned you, even though it was brief and barely there.

“Okay, I'm not contagious.” He huffed, grabbing the plate from your hand a little rougher than necessary.

“Might be.” You answered, scrubbing at an oven dish a little harder than you needed to. Unable to focus on the task, because all you could do is fixate on the way he was standing a little too close, the smell of his body spray, the way his hands curled around the drying cloth.

He shot you an unimpressed look, but you felt it linger. You felt the way his eyes traced your profile, dragged down the silhouette of your throat.

It was the first look you felt. But it wasn't the first time he'd appreciated you.

You started to notice it more then. The little glances, the way his eyes would linger on your mouth after you'd stopped talking. You noticed him watching you when you helped Angela with the dishes as the sun set outside the kitchen window, spilling golden light across your shoulders.

The summer had been the hottest on record for a long time, and you never thought to bring a sweatshirt or hoodie for when these evenings got colder. You sat on the steps of the house, finishing up your cigarette as you felt the chill of the evening settling over your skin. The door opened behind you, and Kurt stepped out of the house, letting the door close softly behind him.

He offered you one of his sweatshirts. He held it out towards you, unprompted. “S’getting cold.” he muttered.

You recognised the sweatshirt. It was the same dark blue camo one he wore often. You placed the butt of your cigarette between your lips as you took it from him, mumbling your thanks as you inhaled again, then flicked the cigarette away, and pulled the sweatshirt over your head.

“They're bad for you.” He said, nodding towards your extinguished cigarette lying in the dirt.

“Uh-huh.” You hummed, glancing up as he stepped down and then lowered himself to sit on the step with you.

“I have this.” He said, pulling out a chunky vape from his pocket. “You can put all different flavours in it.” He said, turning the vape over in his hand.

You looked at it and raised your eyebrows, not impressed, not by any means, even though that's what you could tell he was going for. “What flavour is it right now?”

“It's, um, cotton candy. I think.” He said, still looking down at the device in his hands before jokingly offering it to you. “Can try it if you want.” He scoffed.

You looked between him and the vape before lifting your hand and taking it from him. His eyes locked onto the way your lips wrapped around the mouthpiece, you hadn't wiped it first, just put your mouth where his had been.

The vapour filled your mouth as you inhaled, then exhaled through your nose, blowing out the cloud of sickly sweet smoke. “That tastes like shit.” You said, handing it back to him as you cleared your throat.

He took it gingerly, his fingers tapping against the side before he glanced at you. He caught your eyes as he lifted it to his own mouth, pressing his lips against where yours had just been. You didn't mean to drop your eyes to his mouth, but when you realised you were watching, you stood abruptly, and headed back inside without another word.

Kurt's Onlyfans account stayed open on a tab on your phone. You had watched every video, you watched the new ones as he uploaded them, and found yourself cumming along with him every time. Most of the time you didn't even remember your hand sliding between your thighs, only after, when you had to withdraw your two soaked fingers and turn off Kurt's whimpering, did you think about what you were doing.

But you didn't stop.

You found yourself fucking yourself with your dildo, imagining Kurt's cock instead. You wore his sweatshirt and rode the dildo, crying out his name as you came. You knew you were only making things worse for yourself when you inevitably had to see Kurt again.

Sunday rolled around again, and you found yourself sitting at the kitchen table, avoiding Kurt's eyes at all costs. You almost choked on your food when his foot accidentally brushed yours. His cheeks flushed bright red when your fingers touched his as you passed him the pepper.

After dinner, when the dishes were drying on the rack, and the light was fading, turning the skies pink. Your dad announced that himself and Angela would be heading out to the bar. They said they wouldn't be long, that they'd only be staying for an hour or two, just to see some friends.

Leaving you and Kurt alone in the house.

It was a little awkward to say the least. Unlike any time that you and Kurt had been alone before. Usually he would take himself off to his bedroom and play video games, and you would stay in the sitting room. But he didn't leave this time. He sat next to you on the couch.

“Do you… um..” he said, shifting himself awkwardly, his knee bumping yours in the process. “Do you wanna watch a movie? Or.. something?” He asked, his head turned towards you but not quite looking at you.

“Sure.” You cleared your throat, sinking further onto the couch, crossing your arms over your stomach. He picked up the remote and opened Netflix, swallowing thickly as he looked away from you.

“What do you wanna-”

“Whatever.” You cut in, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you kept your eyes focused on the TV. You daren't look away, not when you knew what he was hiding under those sweatpants. Not when you knew the two of you were alone. He nodded slowly, flicking to whatever came up first that he hadn't seen already, it ended up being a horror movie.

You watched mostly in silence, both of you just staring at the screen. You could feel every time he looked over at you, his gaze heating your skin. His knee was only inches from yours, you could feel his body heat radiating towards you, you could smell whatever he'd doused himself in before you arrived today. You could hear his breathing, soft and shallow, and the occasional movement of his tongue wetting his bottom lip.

“That guy's in something else.” You blurted out suddenly, so suddenly that it startled Kurt and his head snapped to you. You finally met his eyes, fumbling your hand on the arm of the couch to find your phone.

“Yeah, well.. h-he’s an actor, they tend to do that.” He said, smiling weakly at you as you glared at him.

“M’gonna Google it.” You hummed. Kurt's eyes dropped, watching your thumb unlock your phone. He watched you tap on the internet browser. And he froze.

He only saw it for a split second before you swiped it away, locking your phone and mumbling under your breath. Your heart thumped in your throat, panic and shame flaring in your chest.

You'd forgotten to close the tab with Kurt's Onlyfans open. And he'd definitely seen.

“What wa-”

“Nothing.” You interrupted him, staring at the TV as if you focused hard enough, it would swallow you in, and you could die a death less horrific than Kurt finding out you'd seen his videos.

You felt his eyes burning into the side of your head, and your heart kicked in your chest as you felt him shift on the couch, not away. But closer. When you finally turned your head to look at him, he dropped his eyes to your phone, then back up to your face. You swallowed thickly, your grip on your phone tightening. His eyes flicked down again, not to your phone this time. To your mouth.

“Let me see.” He said, his voice was barely above a whisper, a low hum in the back of his throat. You shook your head as his eyes flicked back up to yours. His mouth opened, but he didn't speak, and was he?… he was. He was leaning forward. Your eyes rapidly moved around his face before you tentatively leaned forward too. You could feel his breath on your lips, his eyes locked on your mouth, his nose brushed against yours. His lips softly grazed yours-

“We're back!”

You jumped apart like you'd both been electrocuted, your heart raced in your chest, his own heaving with laboured breaths as his hands tightened on his knees, bunching the fabric of his sweatpants in his hands.

You stood from the couch, grabbing your things quickly. “I'm r- I want to go home.” you said as you passed your dad, bolting to the front door, and slamming it behind you as your head spun while trying to process what had almost happened.

Your dad looked at the door bewilderedly, and then back to Kurt and scoffed. “What'd you do to her, son?” He laughed softly.

Kurt bolted too, “N-nothing, I didn't do anything, why would I do anything? That's ridiculous.” He rambled all the way to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Your dad looked at Angela and shrugged.

You refused to go with your dad the next week, you lied and told him you were feeling unwell. He sighed, but accepted it, and went without you anyway. You hadn't spoken to anyone about what had happened with Kurt, not even your best friend. You let it twist and churn in your stomach all week, guilt, shame. And regret. As much as you hated yourself for it, you wished your dad and Angela had stayed out longer. Because now you couldn't get that soft, barely there graze of his lips against yours out of your head.

Your phone buzzed in your hand and you glanced down.

You exhaled slowly, opening the message and reading it over again. Your eyes focused on each word as you pulled up the keyboard to respond. Your thumbs hovered uselessly before you locked your phone and threw it down onto the bed, burying your head between your knees. It would be easier to withdraw completely, to let him believe it was his fault, accept his apology and move on.

But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. And you weren't sure if it was because you didn't want to hurt his feelings, or because you weren't sorry about what happened. Or, almost happened.

He didn't text you again during the week. You hadn't looked at the tab that stayed open on your phone. Even if your fingers twitched towards it every night before you went to bed. You knew it was wrong, but there was something about its inappropriateness that had you pressing your thighs tighter together every time you thought about it.

By Friday, you lost the willpower when the tab refreshed, and you saw he had uploaded a new video. You shouldn't have clicked it, you knew that. But it was too late, you were already watching him sit back in his gaming chair, his big hand wrapped around his cock, increasing the pace as he whined.

Your thighs pressed together as the familiar throb between your legs worsened. You watched his head fall back, his mouth open around whimpers as the tip of his cock grew darker, something you'd come to know meant he was close. Your fingers were dancing across the waistband of your pyjamas when you froze. Because you definitely hadn't heard that right.

You watched his mouth as he whined it again, a noise that sounded suspiciously close to your name. Your breathing picked up, as he moaned it again. It was definitely your name. He was moaning your name as he came, his release spilling over his hand as he whimpered through his orgasm, his tummy flexing with each spurt from his cock.

The video ended when he grabbed the phone, his flushed cheeks filled the frame, his hazel eyes locked onto the camera for a split second before the screen went dark. Your reflection stared back at you in the black mirror that your phone had become. You blinked and slowly lowered the phone to the bed as you felt your heart thudding in your throat.

The next day, your phone rang. You saw Angela's name flash up on the screen, and you panicked, what if she knew? But you shook your head, there was nothing to know. Nothing had happened. You answered the call and brought it to your ear.

“Hi.” You answered, your fingers drumming against your chin anxiously.

“Hi honey, I'm sorry to ask but we're away this weekend and Kurt is working, would you be able to pop by and feed Luna and Dozier? And let them into the yard for a little while?” Her voice was faint through the phone, and you could hear the rumbling of the car she must be calling through.

“Kurt's working?” You asked, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Yeah, until one or two in the morning, would you mind hon?” She asked, the blinker clicking and you dad laughing at something in the background.

“No. That's fine.” You sighed as you agreed, you hadn't had any plans or anything, but you'd still been avoiding the Kunkle house like the plague, the thought of even seeing Kurt sending shivers down your spine that you couldn't determine were good or bad.

“Thanks hon, see you soon.” She said, hanging up before you could respond.

It was already growing dark when you pulled up to the house, finding the spare key under the mat, you let yourself in. Dozier jumped up, his big paws landing against your stomach, winding you as you pat him on the head. Luna barely lifted her head from the couch.

“Yeah, hi buddy.” You said, pushing him down gently and heading to dish out their food. Once they were noisy wolfing down their dinner, you scanned the house. You'd never been alone here before, and that alone sent a thrill down your spine.

Kurt's door was ajar.

It squeaked slightly as you pushed it open. You'd been in his room before, it was nothing special. A mattress on the floor, a rack of sneakers you never saw him wearing, dirty clothes on the floor, posters on the wall. His gaming set up was tucked into the corner of his room, the monitor lit up as you wiggled the mouse. But it was locked, and you grimaced as you made eye contact with the creepy little kurtsworld logo he used as his screensaver.

You didn't hear the door open. Or his footsteps as he approached his bedroom.

“What are you doing here?” His voice made you flinch, and you whirled around to look at him, your heart racing.

“Jesus Kurt- scared..” you swallowed, shaking your head. “Your mom asked me to feed the dogs.” You gestured to the kitchen. “Said… you were working.”

He nodded, slowly putting his keys down on the desk with a quiet clink. “Yeah, I just came back to feed them.. but-” he gestured at you and then dropped his hands back into the pockets of his jeans.

Awkward silence filled the space between you. Neither of you looked directly at the other, your fingers twisted in your palm.

“You're in my room.” He mumbled, his eyes focused somewhere between your middle and the floor.

“Yeah, I…” you trailed off as you realised you didn't have an explanation. Not one beyond just wanting to look around, just feeling an unexplainable pull towards the room, and him if you were being honest.

Kurt finally lifted his eyes to your face, and you felt it, the weight of his gaze, the way your skin prickled at the back of your neck. You met his eyes as you pulled your bottom lip into your mouth, chewing nervously.

“Did-” he cleared his throat. “Did you see the video?”

Your eyes widened, and your breath stuck in your throat, making you cough slightly. “W-what video?” You asked once you'd recovered.

Kurt's eyes flicked to his computer monitor, then back to you. “You know what video.” He said, his cheeks flushing, his eyes dropped again, like he was already embarrassed to bring it up. It reminded you of how he'd looked in the video, head tilted back, chest rising and falling as he whimpered your name.

“Yeah.” Your voice cracked around the word, and his eyes flicked back up to yours. Even though the video was concrete proof that he'd been thinking the same thing about you, your chest still flashed with panic as you stepped closer to him.

He instinctively straightened, his fingers flexing at his sides as his breathing picked up, keeping his eyes on yours as you stopped in front of him. “What- um…” he trailed off as his eyes dropped to your mouth when your tongue wet your bottom lip.

“This is a bad idea.” You said, but your hand moved up, your palm flattened against his chest, feeling the wild thumping of his heart underneath. He inhaled sharply at the warmth of your hand through his t-shirt, his eyes dropping to your hand, and then slowly dragged back up to your face.

“W- you shouldn't…” he said, his voice was strained, his jaw stuttering as your hand slowly moved up towards his shoulder, he leaned down instantly.

“You want me to go?” You whispered as his face paused, inches from yours, his eyes wide as they flicked between yours. He shook his head gently, and you closed the distance.

He gasped as your lips touched his, his eyes widening with panic before closing as he hesitantly pushed his lips back against your own. Your hand moved up around the back of his neck as your lips slotted between his, sighing softly. His hands twitched again before he slowly brought one up. His palm was warm against your face as he cupped it, his fingers threading through your hair behind your ear.

It was as if something inside him clicked, or snapped, as he brought the other hand up to the other side of your head and kissed you back desperately. His nose pressed into your cheek as he tilted his head, stepping closer until his body was flush against yours. The heat of him seeped through your t-shirt, his hands holding your mouth against his as if he was terrified you wouldn't come back if he let you go.

Your hands moved down first, your fingers trailing over the fabric of his t-shirt, down his stomach and towards his jeans. He pulled back when he realised what you were doing, not far, just enough to look at you. His pupils were blown, his hair mussed from where your hands had slid through the strands, his chest heaving with laboured breaths.

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice was broken, it cracked around the word, his eyes locked onto yours.

You nodded and he dove right back in with all hesitation gone. He tugged your t-shirt up over your head and threw it behind him, his hands splayed over your skin as he pulled you against him, walking you back to the mattress. You fell down, pulling him with you, he hovered over you on his knees as he pulled his own t-shirt off and then leaned back down.

His chest hair tickled your nipples as he settled between your thighs, his mouth back on yours as his hand moved to cup one of your breasts. He squeezed softly, kneading the flesh with his fingers as he moaned against your mouth. Your hands moved up over his shoulders, holding his body against yours as he couldn't help but grind his hips against yours, desperate for the friction.

You felt the hard line of his cock press against you, even through his jeans and your shorts. You sighed as his lips moved down your neck, alternatively kissing and sucking your skin. His tongue darted out as he reached your nipple, his eyes flicking up to watch the way your eyes closed as you moaned quietly when he licked over it. He sucked your nipple into his mouth, keeping his eyes open, watching your every expression. He moved to your other breast, licking and sucking at your nipple until you arched beneath him.

His mouth pressed hot, open mouthed kisses to your stomach as he made his way down, his fingers fumbling with the button on your shorts, his hands hadn't stopped shaking since he saw you in his room. You lifted your hips to help him pull the shorts down your legs. He inhaled shakily as your thighs fell apart and he saw your already damp underwear. He swallowed thickly, eyes focused as he leaned down, pressing kisses around the edge of the fabric.

“Kurt-” you sighed, your fingers threading into his hair, grasping tighter when he kissed over your now wet underwear before lifting a hand to pull your underwear off to the side before leaning in to devour you. It was clear he didn't have much, if any, experience as his tongue licked messily through your folds. But what he lacked in experience, he sure made up for in enthusiasm. Luckily, he seemed to respond to you maneuvering his head by his hair, pulling his head upwards until his tongue was on your clit.

“Fuck.. right there-” you moaned as his tongue flicked over your clit, his finger came up to tease at your entrance. However it was less like he was teasing, and more like he was asking for permission, even now. You lifted your head to look down between your thighs, his eyes met yours, wide, pupils blown out, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You moaned at just the sight, but then his finger finally moved inside you, and your head fell back, your fingers tightened in his hair again.

Kurt lapped at everything you gave him like a man starved. He moaned against your pussy, his finger working into you as he flicked his tongue over your clit. He loved the way your thighs kept tightening around his head, and your grip on his hair hardened, it was almost painful. But he liked it. The noises that were spilling from your lips spurred him on, working you open as he added another finger, feeling you clench around him as he sucked your clit into his mouth.

“You t- fuck- you taste good.” He moaned against you as you soaked his chin, his fingers kept their pace as you tugged on his hair, burying his face in your pussy as you rolled your hips, his tongue flattened over your clit as you grinded against it.

You pulled his hair to pull him back up to your mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue as you kissed him. He pulled his fingers out of you and clumsily pulled off his own jeans, groaning against your mouth as you wasted no time. Your hand dove into his boxers, wrapping around his thick cock, giving a few gentle strokes to have him whining into your mouth as he bucks up into your hand.

He pulls off his boxers and you let go to look at his cock, it's even bigger than it looked on screen, thick and veiny, the head flushed and swollen. You swallow thickly before lifting your eyes to his. There's a split second where you think he's going to back out, that he's going to tell you that he doesn't want to do this. But then he's leaning back over you, and his mouth is on yours again.

The head of his cock drags through your soaked folds as he positioned himself at your entrance, and slowly pushed forward. You gasped against his mouth as his cock stretched you, your nails pressing into his shoulders. His head dropped as he pushed fully inside, he didn't move at first, he took a shaky breath in before lifting his head back up to look down at you. Then, with a slow movement, he pulled his hips back, his eyes staying on your face to watch your lips part, and the sharp inhale of breath you took when he pushed forward again.

Your legs wrapped around his hips, and your back arched, pressing your chest against his as he set a slow and steady rhythm. He whimpered your name, just how he had in the video, his face pressed against the side of your neck. His tongue darted out to trace your collarbone, before his teeth grazed your skin, making you gasp.

The rolls of his hips picked up their pace, smacking against your thighs with every thrust. He moaned into your shoulder as your nails scraped down his back, only spurring him on as he thrust into you faster, his pace growing more desperate. His mouth moved up to yours again, as if he intended to kiss you but was interrupted by a moan as your pussy squeezed around his cock. His lips hovered just above yours, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Fuck-” he whined, his hips faltering before picking back up, lowering himself onto his forearm. “Been- fuck- been thinking about this since I met you.” He whispered against your mouth, like the act of being inside you had his head spinning so out of control that he would tell you anything you wanted him to.

“Yeah?” You sighed, your hand sliding up into his hair, and he finally opened his eyes to look down at you, your hair fanned out across his pillow, your eyes heavy and looking up at his own. His cheeks flushed, his lips red and swollen from biting them.

“Mhm.” He whimpered, nodding like he was embarrassed, his hips stuttering again. The veins on his neck swelled, and you could tell he was straining, struggling to stay composed. It sent a thrill through your core, and made you want to break through the front he was clearly trying to put on.

“Roll over.” You said, his eyes widened, but he obliged, as if he was scared you'd stop if he didn't. He pulled out and lay down on his back, his chest heaving as you swung your leg over his hips, and sank back down onto his cock. His teeth but down on his bottom lip as you took him back in.

His hands moved up to your thighs as you balanced yours on his chest, and started rolling your hips against him.

“Oh f-fuck-” he stuttered, his eyes rolling back, his stomach tensed. You smiled as you looked down at him, and felt his fingers dig into your thighs. His mind had fogged as soon as you sank down onto him, warm, wet and tight around his cock as you rocked your hips over his.

“You like that?” You cooed, your hand sliding up to grab his chin, forcing him to look up at you. He nodded as he opened his eyes, glossed over and focused on you. He opened his mouth, pulling your thumb into his mouth, sucking on it as his tongue flattened against the pad of your thumb. Your breath rushed out of you through your parted lips, watching him suck on your thumb as you leaned forward.

You swapped out rolling your hips for bouncing them instead, feeling him squirm beneath you as his eyebrows furrowed, his blunt nails scratching at your thighs. You pulled your thumb from his mouth to push his hair back off his forehead, glistening with sweat as you leaned down further, your lips moving back to his. He whimpered against your mouth as you bounced your hips, the head of his cock burying deep within you with every movement.

“I c- I can't, it's too good.. please.” He whined, his hips twitching upwards to try to meet your thrusts.

“You can.” You hummed, pulling back to look down at his blissed out expression, his flushed cheeks. “You wanna make me feel good, don't you?” You tilted your head.

He nodded eagerly, “yeah, yeah I do- t- tell me what you want.. please-” he whimpered, watching as you sat back up, and moved his hand to where you were joined. He understood immediately and his fingers rubbed at your swollen clit. You moaned softly as you leaned backwards, resting your hands on his thighs as you rolled your hips. The new angle had his cock hitting your g-spot with every roll, his fingers circled your clit as his body vibrated with tension, desperate to make you feel good.

“Kurt… right there-” you moaned, your head tipping back. He watched with wide eyes, as if he was experiencing a miracle, your hips rolling, his cock disappearing inside you repeatedly, your tits bouncing slightly as you moved, the line of your throat, your hair falling down your back. He felt you clench around his cock, and his brain melted. His hands grabbed your hips, and he rutted his cock up into you, thrusting fast and sharp, your ass smacking his thighs.

“Kurt!” You cried out at the sudden movement, your nails digging into his thighs.

“I'm gonna come, fuck I'm gonna come so hard, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He whimpered, slamming his hips up against yours as his cock pulsed inside you, sending you over the edge with him, the room was loud with your combined cries as his body shuddered with his release. Your thighs shook, your stomach tensing as your pussy milked him dry, leaving both your chests heaving, and your skin sticky and glistening with sweat.

His grip on your hips loosened as you lifted your head, opening your eyes and locking them onto his as the dawning realisation of what you'd done began to settle between you. You swallowed thickly as you caught your breath, he stared up at you, eyes wide and his hands curled into fists like he was terrified to touch you again, as if he might startle you like a wild animal.

You pulled yourself off him and kneeled on the mattress, feeling more exposed now than when you were on top of him and moaning his name. You slowly reached for your shirt as he sat up hesitantly, pulling the blanket over his lap.

You dressed in silence. He didn't watch, he stared at his feet under the blanket, chewing on his thumbnail. Once you were dressed, you glanced at him, taking in his embarrassed posture, his anxious twitching.

“We don't have to talk about it.” You said quietly, and he nodded without looking at you. “Ever.” You added, grabbing your phone and shooting him one last look before you walked out without another word, the shame and guilt twisting in your stomach. Kurt sank further into his bed, staring up at the ceiling, the image of you rolling your hips on top of him burned into his eyes every time he closed them.

Two weeks later, your phone buzzed.

Your thumbs hovered over the screen, your heart racing in your ears.

you and kurt kunkle had been roommates for four months. it all started when his parents finally reached their breaking point.

after the failure of being a content creator and the never-ending public humiliation he brought upon the family; they gave him two days to pack his things and get out. 

“we’re done with you,” his father had said coldly before slamming the door in his face. kurt was left standing on the porch with nothing but a suitcase, some clothes, his laptop, and the crushing weight of failure.

he was broke, anxious, and terrified of being completely alone. in a moment of desperation, he posted an ad on a local reddit forum: “looking for a roommate. quiet person is preferred. can pay half the rent. please.” 

you replied the same day. the rent was cheap, the apartment was only a fifteen-minute walk from campus, and you were tired of living in noisy student housing with people who partied until 4 a.m. 

when you met him in person for the first time, kurt was a nervous wreck. he kept apologizing for the small apartment, the old couch, the leaking faucet in the kitchen, even for the way he talked too fast. 

he was lanky, with messy brown hair that always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and big, anxious eyes that rarely held eye contact for long. you found his awkwardness strangely endearing. within a week, the arrangement was official.

at first, things were quiet and a little awkward. kurt kept to himself, spending most nights in his room editing old videos or driving for spree until late at night.

he was respectful to a fault; always doing his share of the chores, leaving little notes on the fridge like “i bought milk :)” or “there’s leftover pizza if you’re hungry,” and apologizing whenever he made even the smallest noise. 

over time, however, you two started talking more. he was surprisingly funny in his self-deprecating way, and you found yourself enjoying his company. he was sweet. harmless and safe.

what kurt didn’t know was that for the past three months, you had been bringing different guys home almost every weekend. it started casually. 

you’d meet someone at a party or match with them on an app, bring them back to the apartment, and fuck them in your room. the walls were paper-thin. 

you knew kurt could hear everything; your loud moans, the dirty talk, the rhythmic thumping of the bed against the wall, the guys grunting and cursing as they came. 

at first, you felt a flicker of guilt. but then you started noticing the sounds coming from his room.

soft and desperate whimpers. 

the faint rhythmic sound of skin on skin. shaky, uneven breathing. quiet, pathetic little moans that he tried (and failed) to hide behind his pillow. 

kurt was listening to you getting fucked by other guys, he was jerking off to it… and it turned you on more than anything else ever had.

tonight was the same. you had brought home a guy from your economics class. he was tall, had a big dick, and fucked you hard for about ten minutes. 

you moaned loudly on purpose, knowing kurt was listening next door. but the guy was selfish. he came fast inside the condom, groaned like an animal, and immediately pulled out.

“sorry babe, i gotta go. early class tomorrow,” he said, already getting dressed. you didn’t even bother pretending to be satisfied.

you just lay there on your bed, legs still spread, pussy throbbing and aching with frustration as he left your room and closed the door behind him.

the apartment fell silent. you let out a frustrated sigh. your body was still buzzing, needy and unsatisfied. you reached into your nightstand drawer and pulled out your thick pink vibrator.

you turned it on, the low buzz filling the room, and pressed it firmly against your swollen clit. a loud, relieved moan left your lips immediately.

you spread your legs wider, pushing the toy inside your dripping pussy, fucking yourself with deep, slow strokes while your other hand played with your tits, pinching and rolling your nipples. 

you moaned louder on purpose.

“mmm… fuck… yes… right there…” that’s when the faint creak of kurt’s bedroom door opened just a crack. 

his eyes on you through the small gap. he was watching. you moaned filthier, rolling your hips against the vibrator, pushing it deeper inside you.

“ahh… fuck… so close…” a soft, broken whimper came from the hallway. then the unmistakable sound of him stroking his cock; fast, desperate, shaky strokes. pathetic little gasps and quiet, needy moans that he couldn’t hold back.

you kept fucking yourself with the toy, moaning louder, putting on a deliberate show. you arched your back, spreading your legs wider, letting the vibrator buzz loudly against your clit while you fucked yourself with it.

you opened your eyes just enough to glance at the door.

kurt was standing right there in the dark hallway, pants and boxers shoved down to his ankles, one hand frantically pumping his hard, leaking cock while his eyes were glued to your pussy. 

his mouth was slightly open, cheeks burning red, and quiet, pathetic little moans kept slipping out of him every time you moaned.

you smiled softly to yourself but continued the show. you spread your legs even wider, arched your back, and fucked yourself deeper with the vibrator, letting wet, filthy sounds echo through the room.

kurt’s hand moved faster. his breathing became ragged. a particularly loud moan from you made his knees tremble. you finally turned your head and looked straight at him.

his eyes flew open in pure terror when he realized he’d been caught. kurt froze instantly, eyes wide with terror. 

his hand stopped moving but stayed wrapped tightly around his throbbing cock, pre-cum dripping down his fingers.

“fuck.. i... i wasn’t… please don’t. i’m so sorry.” his face was burning red. he looked completely mortified. “please don’t hate me… i'm disgusting. i know i’m a fucking perv… i'll move out tomorrow, just please.”

you sat up slowly, turned off the vibrator and placed it aside. Your voice was calm and gentle.

“kurt… come here.” he looked like he might cry from shame, but he slowly stepped inside your room, pants still around his ankles, cock standing hard and leaking between his legs.

you stood up and walked over to him. you gently cupped his burning face with both hands and looked into his anxious eyes.

“i'm not mad at you, i know you’ve been watching me, kurt,” you said softly. “for months. every time i bring a guy home, you stand here jerking off like a desperate little virgin, don’t you?”

kurt’s breath hitched.

“you… you knew?” you nodded.

“i’m sorry… i’m so fucking sorry… i tried not to… but you sound so pretty when you moan… i couldn’t stop myself… please. i’ll stop, i swear…”

“I just think it’s unfair that you only watch… when you could have me instead.” kurt’s eyes widened, a broken whimper escaping his lips.

you leaned in and kissed him softly.

the kiss started gentle, but quickly grew deeper. kurt moaned into your mouth, shy and desperate, his hands hovering awkwardly in the air until you grabbed them and placed them on your waist.

you took his trembling hands and placed them firmly on your breasts.

“touch me,” you murmured against his mouth. “squeeze them. they’re yours tonight.” kurt let out a broken, needy sound and started groping your soft tits with both hands, squeezing gently at first, then harder as he grew more confident. 

his thumbs brushed over your hard nipples, making you moan quietly into the kiss.

you kept kissing him deeply, tongues sliding together, while he played with your breasts. his cock twitched and leaked against your stomach. after a long, heated kiss, you pulled back slightly and sat on the edge of the bed, spreading your legs for him.

“get on your knees, sweetheart.” kurt dropped to his knees immediately, staring at your wet pussy with pure hunger and nervousness.

‘’i… i really want to eat you,” he confessed, voice small and embarrassed. “but i’ve never done it before… i don’t know how. i’m scared i’ll mess up…”

you smiled warmly and stroked his messy hair.

“it’s okay, baby. i’ll teach you. just listen to my voice and do exactly what i say. alright?” he nodded eagerly. you gently guided his head between your thighs.

“start by kissing my inner thighs… good boy… now use your tongue. lick me slowly from the bottom all the way up to my clit… yes, just like that…”

kurt moaned loudly the second his tongue touched your soaked folds. He licked you reverently, following every instruction you gave him with sweet, desperate enthusiasm.

“focus on my clit now… slow circles… flatter tongue… perfect. now suck on it gently…” he wrapped his lips around your swollen clit and sucked softly while his tongue flicked against it.

you moaned softly and gripped his hair, rolling your hips gently against his face. “a little harder… yes, baby, you’re doing so well…”

“now push your tongue inside me… good… curl your fingers and stroke upwards… right there— fuck, yes…” kurt pushed two fingers inside you, curling them exactly how you told him while sucking on your clit. 

he was moaning and whimpering against your pussy the entire time, completely lost in your taste.

“you’re making me feel so good, kurt,” you praised breathily. “such a good boy…”

it didn’t take long. your thighs began to shake around his head as a deep, warm orgasm washed over you. 

you came with a long, soft moan, gently grinding against his tongue while he kept licking you through every pulse.

when you finally relaxed, you pulled him up and kissed him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. kurt was breathing hard, face shiny with your arousal. you pushed him gently onto his back on the bed and crawled between his legs. 

his cock was painfully hard, flushed dark, and dripping steadily.

you looked up at him with a soft smile.

“my turn, baby.” you started licking him slowly; all the way up his throbbing shaft, then swirled your tongue around the sensitive head, savoring the taste of his pre-cum. kurt’s entire body jerked.

“oh my god…” you took him into your mouth, sucking him wetly and deeply, bobbing your head while stroking the base with your hand. 

kurt was loud and pathetic; whimpering, moaning, whispering your name. when he started trembling and warning you he was close, you pulled off, straddled his lap, and slowly sank down onto his cock.

kurt’s head fell back with a loud, broken cry as you took him all the way inside.

“fuuuuck… you’re so tight… so warm… i’m inside you… i can’t believe it…”

you leaned down, pressed your body against his, and started riding him slowly while kissing him. kurt kissed you back desperately, moaning into your mouth with every roll of your hips.

“you feel so good,” he whimpered between kisses, voice cracking. “i don’t deserve this… i’ve been such a pathetic perv… jerking off to you every night… and now you’re riding me… i’m so lucky…”

you kept kissing him tenderly as you rode him deeper, your hips moving in a smooth, sensual rhythm. 

“you feel so good inside me, kurt,” you moaned against his lips. “your cock fills me up so perfectly… do you like how my pussy feels?”

“yes, yes. it feels incredible… i don’t deserve this…” he whimpered pathetically, voice cracking. you kissed him deeper, riding him harder, your ass slapping against his thighs.

“you’re such a good boy… taking my pussy so well… you’ve wanted this for so long, haven’t you?”

kurt’s hands stayed on your breasts, squeezing them gently while he moaned and whimpered against your lips. when he got close, his breathing turned ragged.

“i’m gonna cum. i’m so close... can i cum inside you?” he begged, voice shaky.

“cum for me, baby,” you whispered, kissing him again. “fill me up.” kurt cried out into your mouth as he came hard, hips jerking up while thick, warm ropes of cum flooded deep inside you. 

“fuck. i’m cumming. don’t stop, kurt. yes, baby!”

he kept moaning and twitching, pumping every drop into your pussy until he was completely spent. you rode him slowly through his orgasm, then finally stopped, still full of his cum. 

you stayed on top of him, gently kissing his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, and his lips.

you carefully lifted off him and lay down beside him, pulling kurt into your arms. he immediately curled up against you, hiding his face in your neck, still breathing heavily.

you stroked his hair and rubbed his back in slow, soothing circles.

“you were amazing tonight,” you whispered softly. “i loved every second of it.” kurt sniffled quietly, overwhelmed with emotion. you kissed the top of his head and held him tighter.

you carefully lifted off him, feeling his warm cum leaking out of your pussy and down your thighs.

“i’ll be right back, baby. stay here.” you went to the bathroom, cleaned yourself up properly, wiped the cum from between your legs, and freshened up. 

when you returned to the room, kurt was still lying there, looking shy and a little anxious.

“i thought you were going to kick me out…” he mumbled against your skin.

“never. you are the guy i want, kurt.” you both stayed like that for a long time; naked, warm, and tangled together.

you kept caressing his hair and back until his breathing became slow and peaceful.

“can i sleep here with you tonight?” he asked shyly. you smiled and pulled the blanket over both of you.

“yes, kurt. of course.”

Leather squeaks beneath your bare thighs, sweat-slick skin sticking to the thick material. A soft stream of cool air buzzes out of the AC, not doing much to fight against the humid spring air. 

It smells strongly of Kurt’s cologne, a smell you’ve grown so used to that you could pick it up out of a lineup if someone asked you to. Somewhere underneath the amber musk, you pick up a hint of mango. A sickly sweet artificial scent, no doubt from his vape, a habit you’ve been trying–and failing–to get him to kick. Every once in a while, when a breeze filters through the window, you get a hint of the coconut oil he’s been swiping through his hair, claiming it “helps it grow.” To you, it just makes him smell great and look greasy. A win-lose situation.

You’ve been doing this a lot recently. Just sitting in your driveway in Kurt’s car hours after hangouts, just enjoying each other's company. Sometimes you vent, sometimes you talk shit about whoever's bothering you, Kurt adding gas to the fire, no matter how little he cares about the subject matter. Now, you both just silently scroll on your phones, just relaxing in the comfort of each other's presence.

With a grunt, you click off your phone and gather the hair that’s plastering itself to your neck in your fist.

“Need a hair tie?” Kurt asks, already reaching into his center console. 

“Ugh, thank you. You’re the best,” you breathe out, watching him fish around the organized mess in search of one of the extra hair ties you’ve littered throughout his car.

He hands it to you with that goofy smile you’ve grown to adore over the years, teeth shining in the sunlight leaking through his tinted windows.

It’s always been this way between you two. Easy, simple. Even all the way back in middle school, when you had braces, and Kurt had thick, wired glasses that always seemed to slip down the bridge of his nose. More often than not, you think back to that day.

How anger pulsed through your veins when you saw your school's biggest asshole dumping the contents of Kurt’s lunch on the table, in front of everyone. How you dumped your own lunch all over the kid's head while screaming in his face, threatening to do even worse if he continues to harass a boy you didn’t even know.

You both were inseparable from then on. You’ve both been through each other's worst phases, seen things no one else has. Like your wannabe goth phase, filled with far too much eyeliner and outfits you claimed were ‘edgy’ when they really weren’t. You were there for the beginnings of Kurt’s gaming phase, and you’ve spent years watching it develop into more. Into passion.

It’s charming, really, how much thought he puts into his videos. How his eyes light up on the rare occasions he reaches double digits, how fast he starts to talk when he discusses his next idea with you. Although you can’t lie, sometimes it’s slightly annoying. 

Like, now, when for the past ten minutes he’s been refreshing his YouTube page on his phone and groaning when, surprise, surprise, the view count stays at nine. “I don’t fucking get what I’m doing wrong!” Kurt groans, throwing his hands up.

“What was the last thing you posted again?” You ask with a tilt of your head, leaning over to peek at his screen.

“The keyboard review video, remember? The one I told you about where the keys light up. It’s like, really popular right now.”

Slowly, you just blink at him, giving your best “really?” face. Because, really? Personally, you’ve never been scrolling the depths of YouTube in search of a keyboard unboxing video. Hoping he sees the subtle disappointment scrawled all over your face, you raise a brow.

“What?” He murmurs, lips parting. “Come on, what now?”

“Kurt, no one wants to watch you talk about a glowy keyboard. I’m sorry,” you say gently.

In response, he groans, running his fingers through his hair and dragging them down his face. “I’m telling you, dude, I should just go through with The Lesson. I genuinely think it’ll be my magnum opus. I’m serious!”

The Lesson.

It’s all Kurt talks about nowadays, nonstop. It was an idea that developed after your weekly horror movie binge filled with way too much Sprite and over-buttered popcorn. To him, it’s genius—a way to clickbait possible viewers and catapult himself into infamy. To you, it just sounds convoluted. And a little snuffy, if you’re honest.

Which you’re not afraid to tell him. Again.

“You gotta let that go! It’s like, weird.”

He pouts, hazel eyes almost pleading with you to hear him out. “Come on, it’s cool! Think of it like an indie slasher. You love those!”

“Okay, but you want people to think you’re actually killing people!”

Pausing for only a second, he shakes his head. “Only gullible people will actually believe it. Do you actually think people would believe I’d be able to get away with murder? Me? Of all people?” he questions, motioning to himself. “I’m too cute.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes so hard you’re shocked you haven’t gone blind. “Even if you go through with it, how are you planning to hire all those actors?” “I dunno, Craigslist.”

Fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose, you shake your head. “With what money, idiot? You already blew all your Spree tips on all these cameras,” you say, motioning to every single window of his vehicle. Frankly, it looks like the set of a bad porno.

He just breathes out in response, leaning his head back against the headrest, eyes focusing on nothing in particular. This angle gives you a perfect view of his side profile, something you’ve been noticing a lot more recently–the strong slope of his nose, the soft curve of his full lips. Those freckles you love so much, airbrushed over his tanned skin. 

Eyes trailing down, you swallow at the bump of his Adam’s Apple in his throat. Cheeks flush pink as you watch it bob. Once your mouth goes too dry, an idea cycles through the forefront of your mind. “Why don’t you like, post videos of you jerking off?” You murmur, looking down at your phone like it’s the most casual conversation in the world.

“What?!” Kurt sputters, a dusting of rose creeping up his neck and the tips of his ears. “That’s- You’re joking, right?” Clearing your throat, you carefully pull your face to be neutral, as if this topic doesn’t affect you. Like the mere thought of your best friend with his hand wrapped around his dick, his phone in hand, doesn’t absolutely drive you to madness. “No, I mean… People would probably pay for it. Some… Some people think you’re attractive. Own it, you know?”

“I- I can’t just post that! YouTube would take it down, literally immediately. Like, their fucking moderation is crazy.”

With a soft snort, you shake your head. “I mean, on PornHub or something.”

Just hearing the word “porn” on your lips leaves Kurt a blushing mess, his eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. Before he can argue, you cut him off quickly. “It’s views you want, yeah? That’s kinda a surefire way to get you views.”

“I don’t- I don’t wanna, sell my body to strangers, dude,” he murmurs, barely able to keep eye contact. 

“It’s not selling your body! It’s not like you’re posting to OnlyFans. I mean, you could if you want, I guess.”

“Absolutely not,” he huffs.

“Just a suggestion,” you shrug. “Personally, I’d rather make myself feel good for views instead of trying to convince people I’m a mass murderer.”

“Spree killer,” he mutters, correcting you.

“Whatever,” you laugh, turning back to your phone. 

Really, you’re not exactly sure why you pushed it so hard. It’s not like you’d actively search the trenches of PornHub to find his account. And it’s certainly not like you’re attracted to him, right? You can just simply point out how he might be…Pleasing to look at to others. Very pleasing.

While you think, you can just about hear the wheels turning in his head. A sort of silent understanding of him you’ve developed over time. 

“You really think people would watch it?” he murmurs. 

“I don’t see why not,” you shrug.

He sighs, like he’s genuinely considering this. You almost laugh at how deep this is to him, like he’s deciding whether or not to mortgage a home. “I don’t know how I feel about being a pornstar, though. Like, if it does go viral.”

At that, you can’t help but giggle. “Jerking off doesn’t really make you a pornstar. I think that title only applies if you have sex with other people and post it.”

Kurt’s silent for a little while, his eyes focused on the steering wheel where one hand is resting. Just as his silence begins to get concerning, you clear your throat. “You… Could do that, you know? Find someone down.”

His spine straightens, hazel eyes turning as wide as saucers. Somehow, if it's even humanely possible, his face gets even redder, the tips of his ears glowing under the setting sunlight peeking through the windows. “I- No, what? That’s-” He sputters, looking past your shoulder, not quite able to meet your eyes.

Raising your eyebrow, you drag your eyes up and down his body. “Why are you so weird about sex?”

It’s not like you haven’t discussed your own sex life before with him. And it’s not like he gets this weird and squirmy when you do. But for some reason, whenever you turn it around on him, he looks like a spooked kitten, wishing to dart under the nearest piece of furniture.

“I’m not! I’ve just…” He trails off, picking at his nails.

Suddenly, it dawns on you, your face dropping. “Kurt…” you murmur gently. “Are you a virgin?” His eyes widen, and he throws up his hands quicker than you’ve ever seen anyone do before. “No! I’ve had sex!” “How many times?”

That causes him to pause, to sink his teeth into his bottom lip. “Like…”

“Hm?” you urge when he trails off once again. “Twice,” he murmurs, finally building enough courage to meet your gaze.

“Oh.”

It’s really all you can manage. It’s not like you’re particularly promiscuous, but no one can argue that you’re not experienced. At this point in your life, you’ve just about lost count.

“But I watch, like, porn and stuff! I know what I’m doing,” he throws on, as if you were wondering.

If you’re honest, you kind of were.

Still, you laugh, shaking your head. “Kurt, you kinda sound like an incel right now.”

“I’m not an incel,” he groans, looking out the window.

Gently, you place your hand on his bicep. No matter how many times you’ve comforted him in this way, it always surprises you how… Sturdy, he seems. “I’m joking, dude, I promise.”

Slowly, his eyes settle on where your skin meets his. You can see the way his jaw ticks, the slow ascent of his eyes to yours. It seems like the idea settles in both your minds at the same time. It’s even more evident once he readjusts in his seat.

You say it anyway, just in case you’ve jumped to the wrong page in the same book. “What if we film together?”

His pink lips part, like he didn’t expect you actually to say it out loud. To actually throw the idea into the void. “You’re not… Seriously?”

With a nod, you take your hand away and lean back in your seat. “It’ll get you views. Lots of them, probably. I mean, I’m hot, right?” You joke, hoping to soften the gravity of what you’re suggesting.

It takes him a beat to respond. “Yeah,” he nods along, surprising you slightly. “Isn’t that, like, really fucking weird?”

“Kinda. But so is pretending to kill people on YouTube.”

“Right,” he breathes out. “I don’t know about this. I don’t want things to be different between us.”

“It’s just sex. It’s not like we’re doing it for pleasure. It’s just for recognition, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah,” he nods, that sparkle leaking back into his irises. The same one you’ve seen so many times before. “For views.”

When the silence drags on for a beat, you both laugh. “Fuck, are we actually considering doing this?” He says, almost breathlessly.

“I’m more than considering. I’m in if you are.”

His eyes find yours. They drag up and down your face, like he’s scanning for any ounce of hesitation, of deceit. When he’s unable to find it, he nods, unable to stop the laugh that leaves his lips. “Fuck, okay, yeah. Let’s do it.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face, the warmth that sparks through your body, stopping between your thighs. He turns his body towards yours, running a nervous hand through his slick hair. “Okay, so, how are we doing this? Like, what are the logistics?”

Looking down, you consider his question. How does one film a sex tape with their best friend of almost a decade? Breathing out, you chew your thumbnail. “Okay. Okay, how about tonight, you pick me up. We could park in that old abandoned construction site, you know, with the gravel lot?”

Kurt holds up his hands, shutting you up. “Wait- You wanna do it in my car?”

“You’ve already got the cameras set up in here,” you say with a gentle shrug of your shoulders, although your heart is beating so quickly at the thought it’s dizzying.

“Okay. Wow,” he whispers, looking at you in awe. “Why not right now?” “Someone's eager,” you laugh, the sound rumbling your chest even louder once he flushes and scratches the back of his neck. “I wanna shower, we’ve been in this car for like, three hours. And I want you to wash all this coconut oil out of your hair.”

He chuckles, batting your hand away when you reach over and ruffle the strands. “I’m trying to grow it out, give me a break!”

“I seriously don’t think it does anything but make you look greasy. And smell like a tikki bar.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

Another giggle leaves your lips, making the corner of his eyes crinkle. “Seriously. Wash it out,” you say, gathering your purse and your phone. “See you tonight, Kunkle.”

“Yeah. Tonight,” he whispers, watching you climb out of his car and up your driveway.

As you unlock your door, you’re beginning to wonder what you just got yourself into.

♡♡ 

You lean over your vanity, dragging thick, chunky mascara through your bare lashes. Gloss shines on your lips, the strawberry flavour spreading across your taste buds when your tongue swipes out. Once your eyelashes are standing tall, a perfect mix of clumpy and natural. The type that always seems to make Kurt pause in the middle of his sentences.

Just as your phone starts ringing, you dab your favorite perfume on your neck and wrists, the smell of warm vanilla wafting around the room. Picking up your phone, you check the text.

Kurt: in driveway.

Just those two words, improper capitalization and all, make your heart flutter, your stomach clench. All night, you’ve been counting down the minutes, almost in disbelief. You would’ve never thought you’d even see Kurt naked, let alone film a fucking porno with him.

It’s certainly taboo. Something you know you might regret afterward. But you can’t help it. Every part of your body feels drawn to him, a sort of gravity so strong it just about knocks you off your feet.

And the wondering. God, the wondering. What sounds he’ll make, what his pretty face will look like when he’s close. If he truly knows what he’s doing, if he knows what to do with those thick fingers, those big hands-

Your phone dings again, knocking you out of your daydream. 

Kurt: r u nervous? cuz I kinda am…

Chuckling, you type a response, your manicured nails clicking against the glass. Without having to look out your window down your driveway, you can just imagine the look on his face. His teeth sinking into the plushness of his bottom lip.

You: very. 

Not wanting to leave him waiting any longer, you slip your phone into your purse, checking your outfit in the mirror. Your hair falls in silky waves, glossy in the dim lights of your bedroom. Adjusting your tight burgundy tank top, you make sure the lace trim settles against your breasts perfectly. A dark-washed jean skirt settles mid-thigh, gold jewelry shining on your neck and ears.

Underneath, you picked the laciest number you could find, the material a silky black. You know it’s a lot, probably too much for a guy who has seen you with no makeup on your face, sporting three-day-old pajama pants. But still. You really can’t get rid of that desire to see that soft blush paint his skin again.

You take the stairs two at a time, careful not to trip over your shoes. Once you’re out the front door, Kurt’s already looking up at you. His lips are parted into a small ‘o’, his knuckles visibly tightening around the steering wheel.

Making your way to his side, you motion for him to roll the window down. Quickly, he obliges with fumbling hands, eyes widening when you lean down and give him a healthy eyeful of your chest.

You’re able to see him easily with the LED strips he’s placed along the top of the car, even in the dark night. 

“I like the hair,” you smile, reaching in to run your fingers through the now soft tendrils, feeling like silk between your fingers. 

And you mean it.

It curls around his ears and the back of his neck, swooping over his forehead. Hanging slightly over the sharp line of his brow, hazelnut highlights shine underneath the street lights. His hair is messy in a way that somehow feels intentional, as if he ran his hand through it one too many times. 

It’s frustrating how good he looks, looking up at you with those wide doe eyes. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you murmur, trying and failing to suppress a smile. “So, I had an idea.” 

Your hand falls away from his hair, resting beneath your chin.

“Uh, oh. That’s dangerous,” he chuckles, the corner of his lips twitching up.

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head and smile. “Hear me out, yeah?” you begin, only continuing when he nods hesitantly. “We roleplay. You pretend you’re my Spree driver.”

“You- You wanna give our porno plot?” He laughs out, the disbelief evident in his voice. 

“Come on, it’ll be hot! I’m, like, a sexy college student who needs a ride to a bar. And I start flirting with you hardcore. Then I’ll ask you to park somewhere and “keep me company” in the back.”

Kurt drags his knuckles against his lips, his eyebrows pulled tight. “You’ve really thought this through.”

“Seriously, tell me that’s not hot.”

He shakes his head, the tips of his ears pinkening just like you had hoped. “No, it is. It’s just… Are we sure this is a good idea?”

Tilting your head, you just chew on the inside of your cheek. “No. But we’re already here,” you whisper.

He just nods, drumming his fingers on the wheel, lost in thought. After a few moments, he nods again, turning to look at you. “I’ll run the cameras… Just walk down the street, and I’ll pretend like I’m picking you up.”

With a nod of your own, you stand up, making your way down your street. You go just a little further than necessary, just in case whoever views it recognizes the background. A part of you feels stupid, putting this much effort into something as crazy as this.

From down the street, you watch Kurt back out of your driveway, making his way down to you. Each foot he gets closer, the more your thighs press together, the heavier your breathing gets. It’s not panic, really, more so the realization that this is actually going to happen.

He pulls up next to you, parking right next to the curb. With a deep breath, you get into the little character you created in your head. “Hey, you’re my driver?” You ask through the open window, a smile creeping onto your face.

“That’s me,” he says with an easy smirk. Once you crawl into the back, he pretends to type something onto his phone. “You’re going to Melvalds, yeah?”

“Yep. It’s my friend's birthday today, we’re all celebrating,” you say, looking at your manicured nails casually. It feels kind of stupid, like you’re back in your middle school drama class. 

“Nice, nice,” he says, putting the car in drive and making his way down the street. “There’s water in the back if you need it,” he says, motioning to the pockets. 

You give him a sly look, the corner of your lips quirking up. “They’re not poisoned, are they?” 

He looks at you in the review mirror, with that knowing look on his face. You can tell he’s trying and failing to suppress a smile, catching what you’re referencing easily. “I can assure you they’re not. I don’t poison pretty girls.”

Heat crawls its way up your face, making its way down your body slowly. It’s just acting. It’s just words. “It’s a good day for me, then,” you say with a forced giggle, already uncapping a bottle. 

The cool liquid coats your dry throat, leaving you to force out a small whimper. It’s barely there, just barely loud enough for the cameras to pick it up. It’s obvious Kurt picked it up, though, his eyes flicking back up to the reflection of you in the mirror.

“So, you from around here?” Kurt asks, eyes focused on the dark road ahead.

“Oh, yeah, I actually grew up here,” you say casually, trying to pretend that his cologne isn’t giving you heart palpitations.

“Ah, nice. I moved out a few years ago. Still figuring things out,” he says, smoothly turning down a street you don’t really recognize.

“Nice. It’s not so bad when you know where everything is.”

“You got any restaurants you recommend? Any hot spots?” He says with a tilt of his head, like he’s silently urging you. 

You pick it up easily. “There’s this one place downtown, actually. Pretty good if you like Chinese food.”

It’s silent for a few moments, like you’re contemplating something. “I do know this one fun spot. It’s close to here.”

“Yeah?” He says lowly.

“Mhm. I’ve.. I’ve got some time before the party. It’s just a few rights down this road.”

Kurt’s eyes flick up. He knows exactly where to go; he could get to that lot with his eyes closed. You both used to hang out there every Friday night in high school, away from prying eyes. The old construction site that no one did anything with, just sitting there frozen in time. 

He nods, already making his way there. The rest of the ride is silent, both of you holding your breath as the time gets closer and closer. Your heart feels like it’s going to explode out of your chest when you hear that signature song of tires crunching gravel. Kurt parks all the way at the edge of the lot, far enough from the road that anyone passing by wouldn’t be able to see, even with how bright the LEDs are.

“So… You wanna keep me company back here?” You whisper.

Both of you know this isn’t really how normal people talk, how random hookups like this happen, but you’re sure horny people with their hands wrapped around themselves won’t really mind too much.

“I can do that,” he murmurs. It only takes him a moment to open his own door and slide in the back.

Once he’s next to you, you place a hesitant hand on his thigh. The muscle is firm beneath the stretched-out denim, hard against your hand. “You’re cute for a Spree driver,” you whisper, eyes raking down his face like you’re seeing him close up for the first time.

Although it certainly isn’t, you can’t help but admit how pretty he is. How pretty he’s always been.

Kurt audibly swallows, his fingers twitching in his lap. “You’re cute for a passenger,” he murmurs.

It’s quiet for a few moments, Kurt not quite meeting your eyes. When he finally does, you can feel that subtle shift in the air. Like the tectonic plates of your relationship have cracked open, threatening to quake.

As if time moves in slow motion, he reaches out, tentatively brushing his knuckles against your jaw. You are less careful, taking your fingers and sliding them through the thick hair at the nape of his neck. Giving a soft tug, he bites his tongue, his palm encasing the soft curve of your jaw.

It’s unclear who moves first, but you’re both leaning forward, your lips ghosting. Both of you pause, eyes fluttering shut, breath mingling between you. With each breath he lets out, you smell sharp mint and that mango flavor you’re so used to. 

The tension is heavy, the air thick with growing desire. Slowly, so slowly, he presses his lips against yours for the first time. It’s just light pressure, closed mouth. You stay like that for a few moments, your brain going completely blank.

It’s weird. 

Not that kind of weird that makes you want to run, to pull back and tell him this was all a mistake. No. The kind of weird that stirs something deep within you, that ties years of questions into one single answer: You want this.

You really, really fucking want this.

Kurt pulls back, eyelashes brushing his cheeks as his lids flutter open. He looks at you with wide eyes, his thumb brushing your cheek, like he doesn’t know what else to do with it.

It seems to wash over you both at the same time. That intense, almost animalistic desire that leaves you dizzy. You can see it in the way his breath falters, the soft pinch of his eyebrows once he realizes how utterly fucked you both are.

Fingers snake through your hair, nails scraping your scalp. He surges forward so quickly it’s almost a blur, his lips smashing against yours.

A noise set somewhere between a whimper and a gasp rumbles in the back of your throat, your arms wrapping tighter around his neck. He swallows it with a groan of his own, wasting no time to press his tongue against the seam of your lips.

With no hesitation, you part your lips for him, allowing his tongue to slide against yours. Beneath the sickly sweet Mango and the peppermint of his toothpaste, there’s a taste that’s so uniquely Kurt you can’t help but moan. Your thighs press together when you feel him smile against you, his palm pressing against your back as he drags you closer.

You’re chest to chest now, bodies moving against one another in a dance neither of you wants to end. He tilts his head to the other side, chasing your lips as he adjusts the angle. 

It’s a frenzy of teeth and tongue, both of you clawing at each other like you’re lions that were just let out of their enclosures. You’ve never been this kind of person, the type to get so deep into a kiss that there are no other thoughts in your mind but pure, unadulterated lust.

Large hands trail down your body, stopping at the soft curve of your hips. Your skirt bunches up the plush skin of your thighs, giving his wandering hands even more space to map out. 

He slides his palms under your thighs, gripping the skin as he tugs you upward. Getting the hint, you throw a leg over his lap, knees digging into the leather as you settle on top of him.

Kurt doesn’t let you hover over him for long, his hands pulling you downwards, the already obvious bulge in his jeans pressing against your ass. Your breath hitches in your throat at the feeling, quickly turning into small whimpers when he begins to guide your hips against his, adjusting so the seam of his jeans presses perfectly against your clothed heat.

“Shit, Kurt,” you gasp out once his nose nudges your chin up, his teeth dragging across your fluttering pulse.

“See what you do to me?” He murmurs, grinding you down harder, making sure you feel every ridge of him, even through all the fabric. “Been like this ever since you got in the car.”

With each grind, with each catch of his zipper against your clit, you can feel your panties getting damper and damper, surely soaking through and leaving a dark spot on his pants. 

He bites into the skin above your collarbone, certainly leaving purple blooms beneath each drag of his teeth. You couldn’t care less, tilting your head to give him even more access to you. His head dips down lower, nipping at the curve of your breasts that are spilling out of your bra.

His hands come up, sliding up your sides, the fabric of your thin tank coming with. “Can I take this off?” He whispers, finally looking up at you. 

In the soft light of the LEDs, he’s never looked better. His lips are red and swollen, your lip gloss smeared across the plush skin. Those hazel eyes you’ve gazed into so many times are blown black, swirled with pure desire. You run your hands through his hair, biting your lip when he groans softly.

“Yeah,” you nod, helping him pull it off. He throws it somewhere in the front of the car, an issue for later. 

As soon as he sees the skimpy lace, barely leaving anything to the imagination, his lips part, and he lets out a shaken breath. “Fuck… You wear this for me?” He asks, his eyes not even flicking up to yours, too entranced. 

Before you can answer, before you can crack a joke about how lost he looks, his hands come up to cup your tits, thumbs brushing your pebbling nipples through the thin fabric. You can’t help but let out a soft whine, your back arching into his touch. 

Just as you think it can't get any better, he reaches behind your back. He fumbles with the clasp for only a few moments, tugging it off your body with trembling fingers. “Holy shit,” he murmurs, eyes flicking up to yours.

“You’re fucking beautiful, sweetheart,” he whispers. palms sliding up and down your sides. He looks at you like you’re an angel God himself sent down to him. The pure awe in his face leaves you a blushing mess, your heart pounding against your ribcage.

Slowly, he kisses down your chest, branding your skin with even more hickeys. “Kurt-“ you cut yourself off with a soft whimper when his hand comes up, pinching and rolling the other between his fingers. His lips wrap around your soft skin, sucking the hard peak into the warmth of his mouth. 

You grind down onto him harder, a hand pressing against the back of his head, holding him against you. In response, his teeth sink into your nipple, and he tugs it teasingly. A sly smirk that you want to kiss off immediately crawls onto his face when you moan louder.

Slowly, he pulls back, his large palms engulfing your hips. His thumbs brush your skin slowly in circles, his eyes shining when he meets your eyes. “Can I taste you, sweetheart?” Kurt whispers, one palm sliding down your thigh, squeezing softly.

A soft breath leaves your lips, a new wave of pleasure spiking through you, just at his words. “You want to?” You ask, encasing his jaw in your hands, tilting his head up even further.

“Fuck, yeah,” he almost laughs. “I wanna know how sweet this pussy tastes,” he murmurs, the pad of his thumb just ghosting your clothed heat.

Your hips jump slightly just at his little touch, pulling a core-clenching chuckle to leave his throat. “Please,” you whimper.

Not wasting a moment more, he grips you tighter and spins you both around. Your back lands against the seat with a low thud, Kurt landing above you with a soft grunt. He takes a moment to lean down and press his lips against yours gently, a stark contrast to your earlier kiss. 

As he kisses you, he pops the button of your skirt, slowly unzipping it. He tugs it down, only breaking the kiss to tug it over your shoes. It ends up in a heap over the center console, much like the rest of your clothes. He smirks at your thong, a finger hooking under and snapping the elastic against your hip. A soft gasp of surprise leaves your lips at the slight sting.

Then, his lips begin trailing down your body. Your breasts, your hardened nipples. His teeth drag across each rib, the skin beneath him exploding with goosebumps, proof of the effect he truly has on you. Once he reaches the softness of your tummy, he’s more gentle, pressing sweet kisses into the soft skin.

It seems that as he makes his way downward, the prior blinding lust transforms, mutates into something deeper. Something that starts making your hands shake at your side. He notices almost immediately. He always does.

“Are you okay? You’re shaking,” he whispers, reaching out and holding one of your hands in his own.

Nodding slightly, you squeeze his fingers in response, not sure what to say without embarrassing yourself. Really, you’re not sure what happened. You were so ready to go into this being that bold, sexual girl. The type that is a weapon in bed, to never get nervous, no matter how intense the situation is. But as he gets lower, it’s beginning to melt away. To feel real.

“Do you want this, sweetheart? We- we don’t have to. I can turn off these dumbass cameras right now. I won’t hold it against you,” he says quickly, frozen in place. Like he’s unsure whether to back away or come up to hover back over you.

“Kurt I- I think…” You take a deep breath, picking yourself up on your elbows to look down at him better. “I think I’ve wanted this for a really long time.” 

His eyes widen slightly, your admission hanging in the air between you both.

“Really?” He finally says, already positioning himself lower.

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Don’t… Don’t stop, please.”

“I won’t,” he whispers, finally settling between your thighs. 

He hooks his arms under them, tugging you toward him. It’s slightly cramped, a little awkward to do this in his backseat, but you both make it work the best you can. Once you’re both situated, he looks up at you one last time, his eyes asking a silent question. 

Slowly, you nod, reaching down to brush his hair out of his eyes.

As soon as he knows you’re sure, his lips press firm against your clit through your panties. Without giving you a moment to moan or even gasp, he presses his nose into the damp fabric, breathing you in. “Fuck,” he murmurs. You rut your hips against him when he rubs the tip of his nose against your clit, effectively nuzzling you. 

His fingers hook under the skimpy fabric, and he pulls it to the side, revealing you to him fully. Not even bothering to take them off you completely. Pupils blow, his eyes turning black.

“Fuck, look at you,” he murmurs, two fingers spreading you open for him. “You’re soaked, sweetheart. All for me, yeah?”

Nodding, you suck in a harsh breath, fingers sliding through his thick hair. His own finger slides through your folds, gathering your arousal on the thick digit. “Jesus,” he whispers, looking at his glistening fingers in awe. 

Gently, he presses a slick finger against your clit, rubbing slow circles. “Oh,” you let out a soft breath, feeling your body relax against his touch. After a few more tight circles that leave you panting, he leans forward, pressing his lips against your clit.

Your hips jerk up, pulling another small laugh from him. Not one of mocking, but almost one of disbelief, like he can’t believe this is happening. He keeps pressing mind-numbing kisses to your slit, getting lower and lower until he’s at your entrance. 

Then, as if that wasn’t already driving you crazy, he presses his tongue flat against your dripping entrance, parting your lips with his tongue, all the way up to your clit. Once he gets a taste of you, he’s gone.

He laps at you like a starved man, his fingers digging into your thighs and tugging you down harder against him. You’re not really sure what you expected, considering his lack of experience… But fuck, you could’ve never imagined it’d feel this good. 

“Oh my god, Kurt,” you moan, throwing your head back against the seat. He smirks against you, pulling back and circling the tip of his tongue around your clit. 

Flicking his tongue against you, his fingers slide down below his working jaw, the tip of one prodding your entrance. You tighten your grip on his hair, moaning even louder when he slowly slides his middle finger against your sensitive walls. It’s only one finger, but the thick digit is already stretching you out, already making you keen and rut up against him.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart, relax for me,” he murmurs against your clit, slowly sliding his finger out and curling it back in. 

The pad of his finger presses against that spongy spot within you that has you seeing stars. “Fuck, right there- Please-” you whine, close to babbling.

Kurt gets the hint, pressing his finger firmer against that spot, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking it into the warmth of his mouth. Your fingers tighten in his hair, nails scraping his scalp. In response, he moans against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your entire body.

“Gonna add another one,” he says, only pulling back long enough to get the words out. 

You nod weakly, back arching off the squeaky seats once he slides his ring finger in, thrusting his wrist quicker. His tongue matches the pace of his arm, sucking and flicking your clit, his mouth feeling like heaven against you.

His fingers stroke that spot within you, pressing against it with such firm pressure that you can’t help but moan louder and ruck your hips against his face. Kurt can’t seem to keep his eyes off of you, watching each twitch of your face, each shudder of your body with blown pupils and a smirk.

Quickly, much sooner than you ever could’ve thought, that sweet pressure builds within you, your thighs trembling around his head. “I-I’m, oh fuck, baby,” you moan out, grinding up against him, his nose catching your clit.

“You close?” He murmurs, fingers curling deeper within you. “You gonna cum all over my face, sweetheart?” 

His words make your eyes widen, your thighs press against the side of his head. They sound foreign on his lips when they’re targeted toward you, but so sinful that your stomach clenches. “Yes!” You whine.

Kurt’s movements get quicker, more precise as he gets you right where he wants you. You make the mistake of looking down at him between your thighs, his lips wrapped around your clit. Almost as soon as your eyes meet, you’re gone.

Your entire body shudders, your orgasm washing over you so quickly it leaves you breathless. You can feel yourself clench hard against his fingers, your arousal gushing around them. Head thrown back, your eyes squeezed shut, your hips jerk with overstimulation as Kurt leaves soft kitten-licks against your throbbing clit.

He works you through it gently, his licks turning to soft kisses, turning to barely there pecks. Each one makes your body jump, leaving Kurt to hold you down by your hip with his free hand. “Did so good for me,” he whispers, lips finally leaving you. He gently presses them against the inside of your thigh, eyes focused on yours as he slowly pulls his fingers out.

“Sorry,” he mutters once you whine softly at the loss of him, your cunt fluttering around nothing.

The sight before you once he pulls back is heavenly. If it weren’t for the pounding of your heart against your ribs, you’d think you were dreaming. Kurt’s lips and chin are shining with your release, his hair a mess of soft waves on top of his head. There’s a soft smile on his face when his tongue drags over his lips, a soft whimper leaving his lips when he tastes you there.

Reaching up with a shaking hand, you pull him on top of you, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on his mouth, something that wouldn’t seem sexy before, but Kurt seems to make every part of your body ache with desire. 

He kisses you back, pressing himself firmer against you, your chests flush. You pull back first, your knuckles coming up to brush his jaw. “Kurt, how much porn do you watch?” You whisper, a soft smile twitching your lips up.

That cute rose color you love so much creeps up his neck, his eyes widening. “W-what?” 

“That was fucking crazy. Like, do you study that shit?” You joke, unable to help yourself. You just love seeing him flustered, love to see that innocent look on his face, although you know now he’s anything but.

“N-no, I just… It was good?” He whispers, sounding unsure of himself.

At that, you almost burst out laughing. “You’re joking, right?”

Kurt just shakes his head, shuddering when your fingers dip underneath his shirt, tracing the soft hairs of his happy trail. 

“It was fucking incredible, dude,” you murmur against his lips, sliding his shirt up to his ribs.

Getting the hint, he pulls back slightly, tugging it over his head. Once he’s back over you, you look down, letting yourself explore the revealed skin. His broad chest is scattered with moles and freckles, all disappearing under a thick patch of hair. Dragging your fingers downward, you trace his happy trail, smiling once the soft curve of his tummy clenches.

“So pretty,” you whisper, eyes flicking up to his half-lidded hazel ones. They widen once you slide your hand down even lower, palming him through his already-tight jeans.

“Oh-” he cuts himself off with a groan once you squeeze his bulge gently, your breath catching at the size of him, even through his jeans. His head comes down and rests in the crook of your neck, breath coming in sharp pants as he ruts against your palm.

 “Can… Can I fuck you?” He whispers, voice muffled against your skin. The question is so wrecked, so earnest, you almost moan in response. 

Kurt pulls back, looking into your eyes, waiting to see your response. You nod quickly, already popping the buttons of his jeans. 

“I want you to say it,” he says softly, his hips pulling away from you slightly.

Looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, your mind hazy with want, you lean up and kiss his jaw. “I want you in me, Kurt.”

His eyelids flutter shut, a soft groan leaving his lips. Not wasting another breath, he helps you drag down his zipper, kicking out of his jeans. It takes him a moment due to the angle, but he’s eventually left in only boxers that leave almost nothing to the imagination.

The curve of his erection presses against the fabric, every ridge of him clear. But nothing could prepare you to see him without any barrier. He hooks his thumbs in the waistband, tugging them down quickly.

His length springs up, hitting his stomach softly. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight. He’s big. Bigger than you ever imagined. Not that you imagined it… too much 

The tip is flushed pink, a bead of precum already sliding down the underside of him, trailing down the prominent veins that snake around his shaft. A soft patch of hair sits at the base of him, connecting to his happy trail.

“What the fuck, Kurt,” you gasp, absolutely transfixed.

“Is that a good or bad ‘what the fuck?’” He laughs out, scratching the back of his neck.

“Good. Really good.” You sit up next to him, wrapping your fingers around his shaft. 

Kurt lets out the softest whimper, his jaw going slack. “Feels s’good,” he murmurs, shuddering when your thumb swipes across his slit.

You begin to stroke him slowly, just getting used to the warmth and weight of him in your hand. His hips begin to rock in motion with your fist, thrusting up into you. Leaning over, you let a drop of spit slide out of your mouth and down his tip. Kurt whines in response, the sound so weak it makes your breath halt.

“Lie down,” you whisper. 

His closed eyes flutter open, his head tilting. “You… You want...?” He trails off, barely able to say the word.

You place your palm on his chest and push him back, resituating yourself while he lies back. Climbing on top of him, your knees land on either side of his hips, the leather of his seats squeaking beneath you.

His length sits against your thigh, smearing a glistening stripe of precum on the plush skin. Gently, he places his hands on your hips, squeezing slightly, thumbs brushing circles on the bone. 

Kurt grips himself in his hand, gently tugging you toward him. Chests pressing together, your heart beats in tandem with his. A low mewl leaves your lips at the feeling of his chest hair brushing your nipples. With a low grunt, he drags himself through your folds, coating himself in your arousal. 

“There’s a condom in the center,” He murmurs, jaw ticking at the sound of your soft moans when he grinds his tip against your clit.

“Prepared, huh?” You grit out through a thick moan.

Despite your cunt grinding against his dick, Kurt still blushes, his teeth chewing his bottom lip as he looks at you sheepishly. Just as you're about to lean over and dig through his center console, you change your mind halfway through.

“I’m on birth control.” 

He blinks up at you, raising an eyebrow. “Okay?” His eyebrows are pulled together, like he doesn’t quite understand why you’re bringing this up.

“Kurt…” You whisper, unable to help the smile that’s crawling onto your face.

Realization seems to dawn on him, his lips parting in surprise. “Wait- You want…? Are… Are you sure? Isn’t that..”

Before he can continue, you cut him off quickly.“Stupid? Yeah. But, Kurt.. I want to feel you,” you whisper. “I’ve wanted this for a really long time.”

You can see his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallows, his jaw working. “Me too,” he murmurs. “For too fucking long.”

Slowly, you sit up, hovering over him. He squeezes your hip as he drags himself through your folds one last time. 

“You wanna go slow?” He asks, just barely prodding your entrance. 

“Just- At first,” you whimper out, slowly sinking down onto your best friend's dick.

The stretch is immediate, despite only his tip entering. It burns so fucking good as he slowly pulls you down onto him, letting you feel each inch agonizingly slowly. You can feel each ridge of him stretching you open, sliding against your fluttering walls.

Kurt throws his head back, groaning once he feels you clench around him, sucking him deeper. “Half- Halfway there, sweetheart,” he grunts.

You place your hands on his chest for stability, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut once he thrusts shallowly into you. 

“More,” you whine, your chest already heaving.

He nods, pulling you down until he’s buried to the hilt inside of you. “Sweetheart…” He groans, eyes fixated on where your bodies connect. “You’re so tight, shit.”

The fullness is one that you’ve never felt before. It’s so overwhelming you can’t help but double over, tucking your head into his neck. You press soft kisses against his damp skin, slowly rolling your hips.

His fingers dig into your hips while he lets you grind onto him, low groans mixing with your high-pitched whines. It takes a moment for you to adjust, for the pressure within you to bottom out. Slowly, Kurt drags up your hips, not stopping until only his tip is in. 

With little warning, he pulls you back down, the breath knocking from your lungs once his fat tip slams against that sweet spot within you. “Fuck, Kurt!” You moan, gripping onto his shoulders. 

He does it again, and again, your moans getting louder and louder, to the point where somewhere in the back of your mind you’re worried someone might hear. 

Dragging his legs up, Kurt plants his feet on the seat and fucks up into you harder, groaning praises into your neck. “Feels so good around me,” and “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart.”

The sound of skin slapping skin fills the small space, the windows quickly fogging with each rock of the car. Your cunt squelches with each thrust up, the sound so erotic and sinful it’s intoxicating.

Your brain only fills with him. Of his hands all over your body, of the feeling of him pounding into you. Of the feeling of coarse pubic hair that keeps catching your clit with every roll of his hips. 

In one quick motion, Kurt sits up, placing one hand behind him, the other pressed against your back. In this position, you can feel him even deeper, your eyes rolling back. Arms wrap around his neck, holding him tightly against you. 

“You’re, fuck, taking me so well,” he grunts out, turning your head and nipping your fluttering pulse. “S…such a good girl for me.”

His words sear into your skin, your nails digging crescents into the meat of his shoulders. Your words come out in babbles, mixes of  “right there” and strings of curses that make next to no sense together. 

He shifts you both once again, pressing your back against the seat and hovering over you slightly. Warm fingers wrap around your ankle, and he places it on his shoulder, opening you up to him even more. Almost bending you in half, Kurt snaps his hips harder into you.

A hand reaches down, his thumb rubbing quick, tight circles against your puffy clit, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “Oh my god,” you moan, hips grinding up against the pad of his thumb. “Don’t stop, please,” you plead.

In response, his pace quickens, his thumb moving in turn with his hips. Your orgasm builds so quickly you barely have time to warn him, barely have time to do anything but cry out his name.

Your cunt clamps around him, every ridge of his length catching on your sensitive walls. Kurt doubles over at the feeling, your knee almost pressed against your chest. Pleasure tears through your entire body, your teeth clenching so hard you’re sure they’ll crack. You’re almost completely silent for a moment before his name is torn from his lips in a loud, breathless moan. 

He slides your knee off his shoulder, hiking it over his hips, drilling into you as he chases his own release. Your name also leaves his lips like an oath, his voice rough and shaking. It takes a few more thrusts before his hips stutter, and he buries himself into you fully. Warmth spreads within you as he releases inside, his cum coating your walls in hot spurts.

“Holy shit,” he pants, collapsing on top of you with his head tucked into your neck. You can feel him twitch inside of you, your hips jerking slightly at the feeling.

With shaking hands, you run your nails up and down his spine, trying to catch your breath. Kurt rubs his thumb up and down your hip bone, shuddering against you still. 

Once your breath begins to slow and calm, he pushes himself up on his elbows. He looks down at you with a soft smile, knuckles brushing your jaw. Leaning down, he gently presses his lips against yours. 

Slowly, he pulls out of you, rubbing soothing circles into your skin once you whine. You can feel his cum leaking out of you, sliding down onto his seats. The feeling alone makes you shudder. 

You stare up at the ceiling of the car as he moves around the small space, gathering tissues from the center console to clean you both up the best he can. “You okay?” He whispers while he helps you get dressed, pulling your panties over your still trembling thighs.

“Yeah, just... Thinking,” you murmur, lifting your hips to help him tug on your shorts. 

“About?” Kurt asks, a nervous tone leaking into his voice.

You breathe out, meeting his eyes. “That.. I don’t want that to be the only time we do this.”

His eyebrows raise, lips parting in surprise. His shirt is halfway over his chest, the look on his face almost adorable. “You…” he clears his throat, tugging his shirt all the way down. “Me neither,” he admits, swallowing as you pull on your own shirt, not bothering with your bra.

He lies down next to you on his side, the best he can in the cramped backseat, his arm wrapping around your middle, face muzzling into your neck. You also turn on your side, leaning forward and pressing your lips to his. 

Kurt chases your lips once you pull back, long eyelashes casting a shadow over his cheeks as his eyes flutter open. A smile spreads on his face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone. “What does this mean for us?”

You stop to consider that for a second. Really, you didn’t think that far ahead. But the thought of walking down the street, hand in hand with him, fills your heart with flutters. All in one moment, you imagine movie dates, coffee runs, and late-night talks under the covers with him. “Maybe we could… give us a try.”

“You mean like, date?” He asks, his entire face lighting up.

“Yeah. Like date,” you laugh, unable to help the smile that spreads across your own face, mirroring his.

Kurt laughs with you, leaning forward and peppering kisses all over your face, making you giggle the entire time. He pulls back, almost glowing under the LEDs. “Why did it take us so fucking long to do this?”

“I guess we’re stubborn.”

“We’re? If you asked me to do this with you, like three years ago, I would’ve.”

“You could’ve asked,” you begin, smiling slyly at the look on his face. “See? Stubborn,” you emphasize your words with a peck to his nose.

“Okay, whatever,” he says with a playful roll of his eyes, pulling you against him again.

You bask in the warmth of him, every movement that led you to this moment with him flashing through your head. You think back to your idea from just a few hours ago, how this even started in the first place. “Kurt?”

“Hm?” he hums against your shoulder.

“Are you gonna post the video?”

He freezes next to you.

“Kurt?” You urge slightly, leaning back to look at him.

Eyes darting everywhere but you, his face flushes. “I- Uh… The cameras were never on. I wasn’t… Ever going to post anything…”

Your eyes widen at his admission, your lips parting. Then, you burst out laughing, pressing your forehead against his chest. 

You both laugh together, laughing at how stupid you both have been. How dumb the suggestion was in the first place. 

A gasp escaped your mouth; your eyes wide and teary from all the previous orgasms he had given you.

"Look, fuck... Look at the camera mama. Let all your viewers see how much you like my cock. You creaming all over it, right now," he said, his chin resting on your shoulder, face fronting the phone that was currently recording the whole thing. "People on onlyfan are going to like that, right?" He whined, his hips picking up the pace, his fat cock stretching your dripping pussy more and more.

His hand tugged again onto your hair; letting you view yourself in the screen. all drooling, crying, making a mess on his cock.

He groaned in your ear when your walls clenched around his length, your juices making it all slippery.

You gulped, muscles cramped as you came, your come soaking his thighs, balls and the leather of the car seats once more—but Kurt didn't stop, even after that. His hand fell down to your hip to grip it and he buried himself harder inside you, cursing and whining your name. You squirmed; your pussy too sensitive to take it, all soaking down to his balls.

"Ah—ah! Fuck, m'coming! Mama, I'm coming. Going to fill that little pussy up, yeah?" Kurt said before he buried himself all the way in, hips jerking when he came; filling your cunt with his warm cum. Your thighs shook, your back melting against his torso, his semen slowly dripping out of your sloppy hole. You both stopped moving before Kurt looked up at the phone and his hands suddenly grabbed the back of your thighs to lift them up.

His cock slipped out and you whined at the emptiness; your pussy clenching around air. Kurt took adavantage of the new position to slip a hand down to your mess.

"My cum's dripping out... That won't do, nah." He said before gathering a glop of his semen with two fingers and pushed it back inside your cunt, making you gulp in surprise. He pushed his digits deep inside, curling them against your gummy walls and thrusted them in and out of your used hole before pulling out.

"There mama, all filled up. That's better, yeah? Bet I'll become a super-star with that one."

kurtsworld966: ur really fcking hot when you rage quit. gonna fuck my fist think about it later

Maybe it was the fact that you really, really needed to get laid. Maybe it was the fact your body felt so tense but that message sent something hot and electric straight to your neglected cunt.

You blink. The familiar soundtrack to the game fades into nothing as you become acutely aware of the sudden urge you had to press your thighs together.

The message clears. One of your mods had deleted it.

You figured that this Kurt guy made a new account just to send through the new message. There was some sick part of you that hoped he’d make another one. 

And he did just that. Barely five minutes later.

kurtsworld9666: bet your pu$$y tastes fucking incredible

One of your mods messages you privately and asks if you want him permanently banned but you’re too busy imagining the faceless stranger’s nose buried deep in your cunt to reply. 

Fuck—you needed to get end the stream.

“I’m going to head off guys,” you announce as you squeeze your thighs together beneath the desk, rubbing yourself against the chair beneath you for a small slither of relief. Your clit nudges the steam of your shorts and something warm jolts through you. You take a breath before plastering a smile on your face. “I’ll be streaming at the same time tomorrow so catch you all then! Good night!”

You click off before you can see all the messages roll in before your mods and followers could ask what was wrong. But instead of turning off your PC, you head straight to kurtsworld96’s Twitch page.

“Fuck,” you mutter when you realise he was blocked. One of your mods must have done it. Probably for the best. He was definitely some creep you shouldn’t want looking at your profile.

But you were horny and curious and it was a dangerous mix that made you hover over the ‘un-block’ button. Your finger taps without really thinking.

Your eyes widened when his profile finally loads.

It was an aggressive clash of colours, of memes that told you this guy was very clearly chronically online. There was an entire section of his profile dedicated to clips of him rage quitting Fortnite. Your eyes flicker to his profile picture and the first thing you notice about him are his eyes—big, brown like a damn puppy dog. He was cute—sure, he looked a little pathetic and he could probably do with a shower or two but he seemed sweet.

The next thing you notice was the stats next to his username. The fact he had been following you for over a year—since your very first steam in fact.

That turned you on even more and you weren’t entirely sure why.

You shut down your computer, grabbing your phone before leaving your streaming room. You were still stupidly horny and didn’t even think about grabbing a glass of water after a long stream. Instead, you headed straight to your bedroom.

You fell back onto your bed as you opened instagram. You hesitated for maybe twenty seconds before you typed in ‘kurtsworld96’ into your search bar. 

His instagram profile was almost identical to his Twitch. Same aggressively cringe graphics, same big brown puppy dogs eyes. The fact he was already following you.

You click on his latest post and your pussy clenches around nothing as you're met with the sight of his bare chest. It was a video of him messing around with what you sure was a fake samurai sword. But you didn’t give a fuck about the sword, too busy staring at this guy’s body. Because fuck, he was pretty. He had a generous smattering of chest hair which was unexpected but you found yourself staring at, mouth hanging open. He had moles and freckles dotted over his body and a soft tummy that you openly ogled.

You swallow, squeezing your thighs together as your fingers scramble to zoom in on those dark sweatpants he was wearing where you were sure you could see the outline of his cock.

But the sudden appearance of a large red heart stops you. 

Shit.

Fuck.

You lock your phone. Your heart hammers in your chest. You feel hot in a way that had nothing to do with how horny you were and everything to do with the accidental like you had just left on his post.

Stupid, stupid, stupid—

Your phone buzzes and you groan, suddenly fighting the urge to throw your phone into the nearest body of water. You take a moment before you glance at your phone but it was just your best friend who had texted you.

Maybe you had imagined it. Maybe you hadn’t really liked Kurt’s post. Maybe you should look again just in case. But one look at Kurt’s profile and you quickly realise you hadn’t imagined it. 

You could block him. You could bury the evidence and save yourself from embarrassment. But you don’t do that. Instead, you bite your lip before you press ‘follow’.

And you wait. Ten seconds, maybe a little more before your phone buzzes pnce again.

This time, it wasn’t your best friend.

holy fucking shit

you followed me?!

fuck

you’re fucking beautiful

i love your streams. you’re so pretty

hi

Your lips twitched as you try not to smile. You were right—he was sweet.

Hi

It was the only thing you could think to type back. You weren’t sure what you were doing, giving this guy attention. He could be crazy, he could be insane. He could be—

Your phone buzzes as Kurt sends through another message. You look down at your phone and—

“Holy fuck.”

You had received a lot of unsolicited dick pics throughout the past year of streaming on Twitch but this one? It had your attention.

Because Kurt’s cock was fucking beautiful. It was thick, long, veiny. It looked fucking heavy as it rested against his soft stomach. A large hand was wrapped around his length and you found yourself focusing on his fingers—on the veins in his hands before you went back to looking at his cock. Your eyes flickering to the tip which was flushed a dark pink and glistening with pre cum. Your mouth feels incredibly dry as you stare at the image for longer than necessary and that coil of desire stirred back up in your gut.

took this when watching ur stream earlier

You swallow, wetting your lips before you shakily type back a reply.

I saw your messages on my stream

You hesitate, your thumbs hovering over your keyboard as you see the three dots to indicate Kurt was typing a reply.

u like my cock?

You figured that this guy had probably never sexted someone before and had you not already seen his glorious cock, you may have thought twice about indulging him. But there was an ache between your thighs that had become impossible to ignore.

Yeah, I really like your cock Kurt

He doesn’t reply instantly. You wonder if you had broken him. You figured you may have done since you would have placed money on the fact that this guy had very limited—if not zero—experience.

You wondered if he was jerking off. If he was touching himself while texting you and you found yourself annoyed at the idea of not being able to see it.

Your fingers fly over the keys before you could stop yourself.

FaceTime me.

Your phone number follows.

You wait for perhaps ten seconds before your phone rings. 

You sit upright in your bed, running your hands through your hair quickly before you take a deep breath. You hadn’t yet changed from your t-shirt and gym shorts you had been wearing during your stream and you were a little self conscious about it. You glance at your phone screen to see an unknown number FaceTiming you. You rest your phone back against your pillows before accepting the call.

“Hi,” you say as Kurt’s face flashes across the screen. Like you, he was laying in bed. His phone seemed to be propped up on his bedside table. He looked completely breathless as he lay back against his sheets, cheeks flushed a pretty pink, those big brown eyes wide and lips swollen and wet as though he had been biting them. You can see yourself in the bottom corner of the screen, perched on your bed with your legs slightly spread and you feel yourself flush with pleasure when Kurt lets out a small groan at the mere sight of you.

“Holy fuck,” he mutters. “You’re fucking—you’re gorgeous. And real. Thank fuck. Not a catfish. That’s good. That’s—”

He was rendered speechless as you stretch your t-shirt taunt over your chest, giving Kurt a clear view of your pebbled nipples through the material.

“Fuck me,” he gasps out, lips parting. “I mean—fuck—I wanna fuck you so bad. Wanna fuck your brains out. Wanna see your pussy stretched over my—”

“—have you done this before, Kurtie?” You ask in a soft voice, head titled. 

Kurt whimpers at the nickname and frantically shakes his head. “No, no, I haven’t. I’ve never—”

“—that’s okay,” you practically purr, your clit throbs in anticipation as you watch Kurt’s face twist in pleasure. “Just watch me.”

“Holy fuck angel, you’re fucking perfect,” he babbles, eyes wide as you shift your position so he could see the globes of your ass peeking beneath your shorts. “Fucking gorgeous and perfect and—”

He cuts himself off, seeming to choke on his own saliva as you begin to lift up your t-shirt to show him your tits.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Kurt gasps out and you watch as he begins to palm himself over his sweatpants. The bulge there was hard to miss and you hastily tug off your t-shirt so you could run your hands over the sensitive flesh of your breasts.

You hum, head thrown back in pleasure as your fingers circle your nipples, your hips moving of their own accord as you grinded against your sheets. Your panties and shorts were starting to feel damp from how wet you had become. You desperately wanted to peel them off but you pulled your focus back to Kurt as you continued to play with your sensitive peaks.

He was whimpering, hand still desperately palming himself—eyes fixed on you and a bit of drool hanging from his mouth. It was pathetically hot.

You smiled at the screen sweetly as you trailed a hand down to the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down enough to expose your baby blue panties. 

“Show me your cock, Kurtie,” you tell him breathlessly. “Wanna see your pretty cock.”

You could have told him to throw himself in front of a car and he probably would have obliged.

His hands scramble to tug down his sweatpants and boxers at the same time. You hear him curse several times in his haste to do as you say. You continue to roll your nipple between your fingers, biting back your own small moan at the sensation as your other hand moves to cup your needy cunt over your shorts.

“Shiiiiit, you’re so fucking hot, baby,” Kurt tells you in a strained voice. You hear the faint sound of skin slapping against skin and your eyes flutter open just in time to see his cock slap against his stomach.

Your mouth feels dry again and suddenly, the pressure of your hand against your cunt isn’t enough anymore.

“Shit—are you going to—”

Your hands slip inside your shorts before Kurt could finish his sentence. You were soaked. That much was immediately clear as you ran your fingers along the damp patch your slick had left in your panties. Your hips bucked instinctively and you let out a soft moan as you repeated the action.

“Shit—fuck—you’re so fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot.”

You smile a little, eyes closed as you press down on your clothed clit and mewl out Kurt’s name.

Kurt felt like he had died and gone to heaven.

There was a brief moment of silence and then—an obscene sound of slickness on the other end of the FaceTime call.

Your eyelids flutter open just in time to see Kurt—a hand wrapped around his thick cock—as he stares at you. 

“You’re so fucking perfect. Fucking beautiful. Fucking gorgeous. Touching yourself because of me? Fuccccck.”

He’s babbling, complete and utter nonsense and that leaves your body buzzing. He was so eager—so fucking eager to please you, even over the phone and each compliment went straight to your cunt. 

Your hand slips out of your shorts so you could tug them off, along with your panties and Kurt’s movement stops for a brief second as you lay back so he could get a clear view of your glistening pussy.

“Holyfuckingshit, holyfuckingshit—”

The needy tone of his voice was everything you needed and more, your fingers glided easily between your folds and you didn’t think twice before you plunge a finger inside of yourself.

“Fucccck,” you hear Kurt gasp out. You could hear him pumping his leaking dick frantically, eyes feasting greedily on the way your finger pumps in and out of your dripping hole, your breasts bouncing with each and every thrust. “Look at her. Fucking looking at her.”

You let out a high pitch moan as you add a second finger, your head falling back against your sheets as you continue to fuck yourself with your slick fingers. Your hips bucking upwards to meet your movements, your eyes rolling back into your head and Kurt’s name falling repeatedly from your lips.

“You’re such a good boy, Kurtie,” you moan out as you plunge your fingers deep into your sobbing pussy, slick sounds filling the room obscenely. “Such a good boy. S’fucking good f’me.”

Pleasure was spreading through you—white hot and making everything around you feel sharper. The coil in your gut was pulled tight and all you could hear was the schlick, schlick, schlick from Kurt fucking himself with his fist.

“I’m gonna be so good,” Kurt was babbling desperately, whimpers falling unabashedly from his lips as he stroked his length over and over again at the sight of you. “I’ll be such a good boy. I’ll be so fucking good f’you.”

Slick was dripping down your wrist as your other hand joined the fray—your finger circling your clit once and causing your hips to jerk upwards as pleasure pulsed through every nerve in your body.

“Fuccck, I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum. Let me cum angel, please? I need to cum. Please. Please. I’ll be so good. I’ll be so fucking good—”

“Cum. Cum for me, Kurtie. Please be a good boy and cum for me,” you gasp out as you continue to fuck yourself with your hand toys with swollen clit. 

And Kurt? He does exactly what you ask of him.

He lets out a strangled whimper of your name as he spills his release all over his fist and stomach. You watch, memorised, at the amount of cum that was spilling out of him. Fuck, it was hot. Watching his hips desperately jerk as he babbles your name like it was the only word he knew.

And it was that—him whimpering out your name like that—was the thing that pushed you over the edge. Heat surged through you, sending shock waves through every nerve in your body as your orgasm crashed over you. Your thighs shook, your juices dripped down onto the sheets beneath you and your breasts heaved heavily as your body attempted to recover from the intensity of your release.

The only sounds that came from you and Kurt was the both of you trying to catch your breath.

“Can we do this again?” you hear Kurt ask tentatively. “Soon?”

You blink slowly before sitting upright, your eyes flickering to your phone to see Kurt looking at you. His stomach was painted white from his own cum but he didn’t care as his big brown eyes looked at you pleadingly. Honestly, he looked as though he might cry if you said no.

Lucky for him, there wasn’t a part of you that wanted to say that word.

“Of course Kurtie,” you say with a gentle smile. “You wanna come round tomorrow after my stream?”

Kurt’s eyes practically bulge out of his head.

“You want—this—in person? Are you—”

“—I’m sure,” you say before he could second guess himself. “I’ll text you my address.”

Kurt swallows before nodding frantically. “Yeah—that’s um—great. Perfect, yeah. I’ll be over.”

You smile because fuck, this guy was sweet. So fucking sweet and you couldn’t wait to make him a whimpering mess all over again.

“Cool. See you tomorrow Kurt.”

You lean forward, picking up your phone to end the call but Kurt says your name and you pause, looking at him expectantly.

“You look really pretty when you cum,” he tells you softly. The words make you feel hot and it had nothing to do with the orgasm you had just had and everything to do with the guy with the big brown eyes looking at you like you hung the stars.

“So you do,” you tell him sincerely, your heart thumping in your chest as he flushes pink. You need to hang up before you tell him he looked pretty when he was flustered too. “See you tomorrow, Kurt.”

“Yeah. Tomorrow, angel.”

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