Summary: Joel is on his seventies, but he still has needs.
A/N: Ok, so. One pic made the rounds in one of the discord servers I frequent and it made me wild, I won't lie (it was a pic/meme with aged Pedro Pascal). Highly inspired by @toxicanonymity's GILF!Joel (mine is a bit of a perv, but this isn't really a dark fic). It was also inspired by @atticrissfinch's MMITB (I wish I had a fraction of her talent for dirty talk, but I'm not even a native speaker of English, so I do what I can). Now you go read them both, I ASSURE YOU it'll be a good time. Huge thanks for all the people that cheered me on with this: Toxi, @romanarose, @beefrobeefcal, @gwendibleywrites, I love you all.
(I must admit that I don't know if I'll ever continue this, honestly, although part of me wants to get to the sex scene. xD)
Pairing: No outbreak old man!Joel x Reader
CW: Joel being bold, dirty talk. That's it <3
No beta, we die like lonely writers xD
It wasn’t a bad job.
Sarah wanted to hire you to take care of her father, Joel. He wasn’t that old, but years of hard work in construction gave him some mobility issues. Sarah worried he spent too time alone, and that he could fall, get hurt and trapped without help because of his pride (which seemed to be a real possibility, considering Joel didn’t want to lose his independence in any way).
You were supposed to get the night shift, which was nice. The night shift was calm, except when it wasn’t. Sarah assured you she talked to her father, she wanted to introduce you to him, before you started working.
You prepared for war, if the man was as stubborn and grumpy as his daughter described.
Sarah introduced you and the old man looked at you over his glasses.
“You sure this pretty thing can lift me off the floor?” He asked, a crooked smirk stretching his lips. You considered answering him, but he raised his face defiantly and winked.
He was teasing his daughter.
You chuckled, to Joel’s delight. Sarah hired you on the spot.
***
Joel was grumpy most of the time. You could understand. Getting older was specially hard on some people. Losing their independence seemed to be a horrifying blow.
You admired the family pictures displayed on the walls and the bookshelves. They showed a younger Joel, large and proud, wearing tight tshirts that showed his big arms.
He didn’t change much, to be honest. His hair now was completely silver, as his beard. The wrinkles didn’t spoil his roguish smile. He was on his seventies, but looked younger, somehow. You blamed his brown eyes.
***
“You know what I miss most about my youth?” He said softly one day, entering the living room. You were looking at his pictures. He slowly moved by your side and placed a hand over your back, rubbing gentle circles. “All the pussy.”
You turned to him, astonished at his boldness. He smirked, then shrugged. You felt your face getting warm and a different, slick, syrupy warmth pooling on your lower belly. He licked his lips and sighed.
“It was easy to get pussy with those looks.” He pointed at one picture of himself and smiled proudly. “Didn’t fuck as much as I wanted, or as much as I could. Tried to be a good dad. Don’t regret anything, but... Oh boy, I miss it.” He looked you up and down, his smile turning appreciative.
“Thought old pervs like you liked tiny thin teenagers.” You scoffed.
“Only dumbasses want those.” Joel chuckled, his hand sliding lower on your back. “I like them older. Like you. With those eyes, like you know and did everything under the sun.” Joel hums, closing his eyes. “Get them cockdumb and they cry so sweetly… Mmmm, the surprise in their wide eyes...” He licks his lips, watching your reaction. You laugh, trying to hide your own arousal.
“Well, Joel, I think the preference is because they are supposed to be tight.” You said firmly, standing your ground. You refused to look shocked, and you saw no reason to scold him, at least not yet. Maybe it was your pussy talking.
Joel leaned over you slowly; you stayed very still. His warm breath tickled your ear.
“After a certain size, honey, everything feels tight.” He said softly, grabbing his half hard cock through his pants. You looked down and gasped, noticing the girth of his bulge inside his huge hand. Joel stepped back, smiling proudly, and moved into the house, dragging his feet. “Lemme know if you want a ride, sweetheart. Them blue pills are easy to get.” He turned and winked at you.
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I need a cuddle from a ficcional character, that may become a cuddle fuck to comfort me and distract me from my neuroatypical exhaustion.
So, some comfort images with some of my favorites because I need the comfort myself ❤️
HUGS, HUGS, HUGS
Alexei would be a sweetheart, smothering you. His body over yours was an almost suffocating presence restraining even the expansion of your chest as you breathe. He's warm and smells of sweat and power. He nuzzles your ear, humming a song. His hands move over you, squeezing your flesh, and his lips brush right under your earlobe, peppering your skin in pleasantly prickly kisses. You know you'll stay in bed for a long while but you don't wanna move anyway.
"Better now?"
Tommy pulls you against his body, and it's like crashing against a warm soft wall, but a wall nonetheless. The impact is followed by his arms wrapping around you, crushing you against his chest. He smells like the rosemary oil he uses on his hair and a fresh, cold morning. You feel his mustache tickle you as he kisses your hairline. It makes you giggle, and that makes him chuckle in response.
"There, baby. You can relax now."
Hopper watches you walk into the living room, observing your body language. When you walk close to the recliner, he grabs your wrist and pulls you over him, manhandling you into straddling his thighs. He leans back and pulls you with him, large palms over your back, patting rhythmically. He smells like cigarettes, cheap cologne, salsa, coffee and safety. Once you settle, his embrace tightens. He breathes slowly and deeply, until your body melts over his. He cocks his head so he can keep watching the TV, as if nothing is happening, as if he isn't paying attention to your reactions, as if he isn't comforting you and caring for you. He kisses your forehead as the tv whispers something.
"Hmmm."
Joel raises his eyes from the papers on his desk the moment you step at the door. He folds his reading glasses and stands up, a resigned sigh escaping his lips as he stands up and his body complains. His hands cover your shoulders and he squeezes tightly as he looks into your eyes, reading your expression carefully. He pulls you ever so gently against him, one hand burying itself on your hair, fingernails scratching the back of your head ever so slightly as he directs you to rest your cheek against his chest, your face partially hidden under his arm. His other hand moves over your waist, and it's only after the hug is completely that he squeezes you, nuzzling the top of your head. He smells like pencil shavings and a bonfire.
"Shhhh."
My particular bonus under the cut 🤣😍
Santa beckons you to the sofa with a hand movement and a pat on his thigh. You frown and he chuckles, patting this thigh a second time. When you hesitate he pulls your hand and makes you sit on his lap. You curl around him, your nose against his neck, as one of his arms supports your back. He smells like cookies, alcohol and leather, like a little bit of sadness, some regrets and a lot of hope. His free hand pats your hip, rubs your thigh, then pats you again, as he rocks your body, as if you're a baby. You pull back to look at him and he is looking right down at you, smiling. He kisses your forehead and slides one thumb over your eyebrow, then goes back to pat your hip and thighs.
"You're never too old to sit on my lap, you know..."
Summary: You're not at home, but he finds you. And gives you a special gift. *wink*
A/N: So, yeah. I couldn't stop thinking of them, so there is more, 2 years later. Some things are very inspired by earlier Santa fic, we had some lovely writers who deactivated, but their ideas live on. Thank you Kitty! <3 <3 <3
Pairing: Santa x Naughty!reader (fem)
CW: a quickie, with your friends in the other room. And more christmas cheer!
Not proofread, and you guys know english is my second language, so there.
I really hope you had a good, peaceful eve, and I wish you a peaceful day today. Christmas can be harsh, but we can always do whatever the fuck we want, even defile Santa! XD *giant hugs*
You sighed softly, watching your friends chatting around the table. You wish you were home, getting ready to wait for Santa, your toys charged and ready. You spent the whole year thinking of him, wet and desperate…
But your friends needed you. 2024 was a particularly rough year for everybody, and when your friends asked gently if you would like to join them on the 24th… You couldn’t say no.
You couldn’t be a good girl for Santa Claus, but you surely were a good girl for your friends.
And now they were laughing and giggling, sadness, hardships forgotten, the heavy weight of the holiday gone. You huffed.
Only one good fuck a year and you gave it up for them. If they only knew.
So after almost a year of writing dirty letters to Santa Claus, you sent a heartfelt one. You told him you would be with your friends, followed by paragraphs on how would you miss him, and dirty fantasies for the next year.
You hoped he wouldn’t mind.
In your heart, you were sure the action would put you in the nice list anyway.
So you would probably get home to a cute gift. No Daddy Christmas cock for you this year.
“Sorry guys, I’m feeling a bit tired.” You said softly, standing up, some weird restlessness commanding you. “I’m going to lie down a bit, take a nap…”
“Take my room!” The owner of the house said, smiling. “And lock the door, some of us here are drunk and we have pranksters at this table.”
“Santa isn’t coming for any of you this year, you assholes!” You laughed and went to the bedroom, locking the door anyway. You would hate to wake up to a thousand ridiculous pictures of you sleeping, some screaming and sharpie doodles all over your face.
You heard the lock, then soft bells rang behind you, as the warm breeze moved the curtains. You shook your head, smiling to yourself. He wouldn’t…
Golden sparkles swirled from the window, materializing the red wearing giant in front of you.
“Santa!”
“My favorite little shit.” He chuckled, silver waves framing his crooked smirk. Santa took a few moments appreciating your expression, a mix of excitement and surprise, then chuckled again. “You thought I wouldn’t come? After another year of you tormenting me with the dirtiest shit I’ve ever read…”
Santa Claus huffed, playfully, throwing the sack on the floor then taking off his gloves and throwing over it. He prowled in your direction, opening his jacket.
“And I can’t skip the fucking letters, no. I have to read them in my workshop, in front of all those fucking elves.” He towered over you and you stepped back, against the door. “They keep stealing the damn things. They all giggle, looking at me weird. Like I am the pervert.”
He picked you up and pressed you against the door, his thick thigh between your legs and the weight of his body against you keeping you slightly off the floor. He had you pinned.
“You really thought I wouldn’t look for you?” He growled against your lips, his blue eyes tinkling with playful anger. You gasped, leaning towards him, but he pulled slightly back, not allowing you to kiss him. “After a year of disrespect? I should fuck you in front of your friends, show them what you really want for Christmas, how much of a pervert you are.”
You moaned, feeling yourself pulse, so warm and so wet.
“Ho, ho, ho.” He chuckled low, releasing you and stepping back. His face a picture of mirthful surprise. “Really? Whoa.” He sits on the bed, tutting, shaking his head. “You are shameless. I don’t know what I expected. I can smell you, filthy little slut.”
You kneel between his legs and nuzzle his cock over his pants. You lick the leather, whimpering softly. Santa pets your hair.
“You can’t help yourself, can you?” He coos, softly, his voice gentle and loving. “Aaaaw, look at you. I didn’t know little shits get in heat too. So desperate.”
“Fuck.” You gasp, scrambling to open his pants.
“Language.” He chuckled, leaning back, making the process easier for you. His pants are large, and he did come prepared (no suspenders, the devious old man). The fabric easily falls open, showing his cock, hard and pulsing precome. No underwear either. You look at him, wide eyed, then at his cock. “It turns you on, doesn’t it? Disrespecting me. Writing those letters, asking Santa to stuff your stocking.”
You grab him with both hands, your hungry mouth descending over his cock, quickly swallowing as much as you can.
“We don’t have much time.” Santa said, pulling your hair. “Come sit on my lap, quick.”
You stand up, pulling your dress up; he grabs your hips and turns you to the door. You feel one big thumb pulling your panties aside, then the hands on your hips press you down. You feel him positioning himself, and like magic, he slides perfectly into you.
A loud moan escapes your mouth and your friends stop laughing for one second. You both stop, panting, alert. The noise outside restarts and Santa breathes, relieved.
It’s quick and hard, almost brutal, his hands tightly grabbing your hips, pulling you up and down… You felt like a doll, like his little toy. You come quickly, eyes rolling back. The only noises in the room are his soft grunts and the loud noises of your thighs slapping against his, punctuated by wet sloppy sucking sounds.
He keeps hitting that delightful place inside of you. You come a second time and he doesn’t stop until he’s covering your insides with merry, creamy white.
Santa nuzzles your ear gently, his soft beard and hair brushing against your ear. His arms wrap around you, holding you tightly against his chest.
“Now you’re filled with christmas cheer.” He whispers against your ear.
“You won’t let me forget that, right?” You chuckle, feeling like you’re in slow motion. You rest your head against his shoulder, blushing.
“You’re going back to the party with christmas cheer dripping down your thighs, little slut.” He laughed very quietly, your body shaking with his. It gave you a warm, soft feeling in your chest; you placed your hands over his, petting him. “I find it funny that’s what makes you blush. Not só shameless after all.”
“In my defense, I was cockdumb and completely fucked out. It was a ridiculous post orgasm joke.” You sighed, enjoying the feel of his body against yours. He shrugged, squeezing you tighter.
“You need to stop asking for these things.” Santa said, and you could hear he was smiling. It made you smile too. “It’s wrong on so many levels.” You heard the soft ho-ho-ho against your ear.
“Do you really want me to stop?” You teased, as you did every year.
“No.” He whispered.
“What does that say about you?”
“We both know under all this I’m just a dirty old man.” He said, gently pulling from you, sitting you on the bed.
Santa stands up and quickly arranges his clothes.
“They are coming to check on you.” He grabs his sack and his gloves. He reached quickly inside the sack and pulled a large package wrapped in stripped gift wrap, with a red bow. The tag said ‘To: Little shit. From: Santa.’ He placed it by your side, smirking. “This is my gift for you.”
He cups your cheek gently, looking into your eyes, and smiled. After a moment, he gently leaned over, kissing your forehead, then your lips. Stepping back, he tapped his nose with a wink and vanished through the window in a flurry of golden sparks. You heard a knock on the door; a friend calling you to open the gifts.
Your friends never laughed that hard. You eagerly tore the wrapping, to reveal a beautiful red box. Taped to the top, a card with elegant writing.
He sees you when you're sleeping
And he knows when you're awake
He knows if you've been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake
Inside, a candy cane striped dildo; you could recognize that shape anywhere. Over the head there was a carefully placed small decoration that clearly was supposed to represent mistletoe. There was also lube, a thick, stuffed envelope and a mobile phone.
“I can’t believe you went through all this trouble for yourself. Who gave you this?”
”Santa.” You laughed, waving the tag, then storing it inside the box. You couldn’t wait to read that letter.
He could not avoid it, he was just way too big. Too tall, his legs too long. Every time Alexei sat, his knees drifted apart as he relaxed, his thick thighs spreading slowly.
He always tried to control his body when he sat by your side, but he always ended up taking all the space, squishing you between him and something.
You rolled your eyes, chuckling, as his thigh pressed against yours, all his attention on the tv. Biting your lower lip, you slid your hand gently along his thigh.
Alexei rumbled, distracted. He scooted forward, spreading his legs more. You hummed, looking at his bulge, your hand sliding up and down his thigh ever so lightly.
You watched as his breathing changed; he blinked slowly, his eyes half lidded. Alexei licked his own lips, distractedly.
"You are playing with fire, little girl." He finally said, his voice menacingly low. You gasped softly; he always looked bigger when he was that serious. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, then your hand. You squeezed his thigh lovingly and he grunted, directing his eyes to the tv. "Do not tempt me."
"I can't help." You chuckle, sliding your hand up his thigh, then sliding forward, over his cock. You sighed, as you felt him getting harder. "You always sit like you're offering yourself."
Alexei looks at you from the corner of his eye, smirking, and grabs your hand. His grip is tight, perfectly squeezing your hand immobile. He presses your hand against his thigh and scoots even more forward. He hooks his thumb on his sweatpants waistband and with one smooth movement he pulled it down, tucking it behind his balls.
His cock smacked heavily against the back of his hand. You moaned lightly, eyes completely focused on it. Thick, veiny, heavy, his cock twitched and pulsed as it hardened. You licked your lips, mouth watering.
Smiling brightly, he held his cock with his free hand. You whined, a needy desperate sound.
"Patience." He growled, watching every single one of your reactions. You whimpered, nodding, relaxing your hands against him. Alexei smiled, enjoying the teasing; his hand moved around his cock, lazily. "After the show, hm?"
A/N: Sorry guys. My writer's block is killing me, I'm super frustrated, work is killing me, but I saw that save both in Thunderbolts and Superman (except that's with kids). I'm horny and I couldn't stop sexualizing strong men, etc etc etc. This is short and sweet and dirty in all the wrong ways. There are other notes on the end.
Banner from @cafekitsune
Pairing: Alexei Shostakov x fem!Reader (It's a 'happily retired' kind of fic).
CW: There is a hard cock, everybody is horny. No pussies were harmed during this fanfic.
The house was a complete mess. You had bought it recently; you and Alexei were searching for a place where you could have some peace. The downside was realizing that the cheap, beautiful place you luckily got was falling apart.
You had to admit the house had its charms, and it would probably be perfect when you finished renovations, but right now it was a death trap.
Alexei wanted to live there and work on the house full time. You thought it was dangerous to leave him alone; only God knew the kind of adventures he could find himself in, and while he was strong and very resilient, you worried he wouldn't be that resilient to electricity.
It became almost romantic. You two sleeping in a makeshift bed in the living room, with cute lamps around, badly illuminated, chuckling over delivery food. Watching cartoons together on a tablet. Making love whenever you wanted (and you wanted a lot, Alexei was always hungry).
***
The kitchen was somewhat functional, mostly water and electricity. An old fridge hummed, and you fried eggs on the portable electric stove as you chuckled at the old toaster. Everything looked so cute, even in that state of decay.
You sighed, turning the coffee pot on, wondering how you could convince Alexei that you could both stay at a cheap motel or rent a place while contractors worked, at least until the house was safe. Inhabitable.
"Birdie!" Alexei shouted, and before you could register the urgency in his voice, you felt his thick arm wrapping around your middle.
Your body was tugged in a circle and forced down, as his other arm wrapped around your side, the big palm cradling the back of your head, pushing it forward and down.
Alexei's chest glued to your back, he folded forward, covering your body with his, a protective cocoon. You heard a loud thud and felt Alexei's body tensing around yours, the hair escaping from his lungs; a small 'oof' escaping from his lips.
You saw the debris falling around him, hitting the floor, raising a dust of powdered concrete and bits of paint.
Plaster. You closed your eyes, realizing what had happened. From Alexei's noise, it was a big piece; it could have hurt you.
"Are you ok, birdie?" He said, low, against your ear, then he looked up and around to survey the damage and check for danger, keeping you protected, his body immobilized under his.
You moaned.
It escaped from your chest, clawing its way through your chest and your mouth, followed by a full-body shudder. You stood very still, surprised by your own reaction.
The whole world stopped for a moment.
Then you felt his beard and his lips against your ear.
"Birdie..." He said, his voice low. You could feel he was smiling from the way he said it. You could feel the warmth between your legs, Alexei's cock stirring against you. "Dirty birdie, hot for hero."
He chuckled and kissed right under your ear, making you whine. He stood up and held your shoulders, making you turn to him. With a soft, gentle smile, he checked you for injuries.
You felt out of breath as he looked over your body, thoroughly, carefully.
"Sorry, birdie. Will need to find other place to stay."
"There. Ok." He says softly and smacks your ass playfully, pushing you out of the kitchen. You turn at the door, trying to see exactly what happened.
Alexei stood in the middle of the kitchen, hands on his hips, looking up at the massive hole in the ceiling. Half his body was covered in dust, debris all around him... His grey sweatpants tented with the volume of his heavy, half-hard cock. Alexei hummed; one hand moved to hold the shaft over the pants, gently massaging himself.
"Good. I was having fun, but this place isn't safe." You sigh, relieved, nodding. "We go now? Breakfast on the way?" Alexei looked into your eyes and opened a bright, predatory smile.
"After sex, yes. Don't want you smearing the car seat." He moved toward you in broad steps. You shrieked his name, laughing and running to the makeshift bed. "You get the seats wet. I smell you all day, stay hard all day. Can't even wait in the car; the car is the issue. Groceries get uncomfortable."
You laugh, stumbling into the pillows.
"Am already stressed, can't deal with this traitor." He looked down at his cock. With a smirk Alexei climbs over your body.
***
A/N 2: I don't know why, but I'm sure this is an older version of this Alexei. RedRocket!Alexei? Oh god.
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FLOYD is an awkward, unsuccessful man with the most adorable face but imaGINE him getting that chicago job with better pay, and being happy with himself and you still take care of his sensitive personality and have his ADORABLE little babies UGHHDsjsj
yeah, oh god.
I love how he is successful in a way, and it's the hardest way: he found joy in his work <3 God, he was DANCING in that concert, living his best life, you go Floyd, I love you
He may be socially awkward but he is so... FOCUSED. HE IS TRYING, OK?
So come with me in this journey. No Carol, no Richard bc I am a lazy human. You are the one married to him <3
***
You are worried, Floyd should be home by now. Some little spirit whispers in your ear to check the cameras, and there you find him. Your husband. He is wearing his suit and his messenger bag, a small bouquet of flowers in his big hands.
Something about him invites the mystery, so instead of opening the door and throwing yourself into his arms you wait. You observe him. He is so beautiful and he has no idea.
Floyd looks down to the flower on his hands, and to the door, a huge smile on his face. Then he moves his wait from one feet to the other. He is excited...? He looks down again, takes a big breath and moves his feet, turning in an adorable circle. It seems to be good news, so you don't feel any urgency to open the door.
You let him prepare himself, breathing deeply, straightening his shoulders, then he moves toward the door. You put your phone in your pocket quickly. He doesn't need to know you like to watch him.
You have to admit you were a stalker. At least a little bit of a stalker. You didn't see the magazine and then found him, no. But when you met, you didn't tell him you recognized him. And you knew of his past. (He should be proud of it.)
The fact is that you love watching him, the unguarded version of him. Slumped shoulders, soft watery eyes and cheeseits, with his comics. Touching himself when he thinks you are out. Scratching his underbelly as he watches something in the tv. Stealing food. (He is handsome even when he shouldn't be. He is specially handsome when he shouldn't be.)
He opens the door, swinging it wide, and says loudly: "Honey, I'm home!"
Floyd hears your giggles before seeing you; his expression softens immediately.
"Hey." He smiles again, extending his hands. The flowers look small between his fingers.
"What is that for?" You point at the flowers, and he pushes them toward you in small excited moves, until you hold them.
"I got it." Floyd says, wide eyed and earnest, his arms at his side, feet a bit apart. "I got the job!"
You throw yourself into his arms, screaming and celebrating. He squeezes you hard, his arms iron bars crushing you against his chest as if he wants to meld into you. His nose is firmly pressed against the top of your head. He pulls back, look into your eyes and smile, mouthing "I got it!" then kisses your forehead and crushes you again.
His mouth and his nose firmly pressed against the top of your head, he takes deep, slow breaths.
"I got it." He says softly. "Maybe we could have a cornhole celebration."
Summary: Joel is on his seventies, but he still has needs. Well, we all have needs.
A/N: Ok, so. Look, I'm gonna be honest: life kicked my ass, I just got into college (again eeee), god knows how this is gonna go, but here, I heard you all: I wanted more and there is more. I can't help myself, I want this man in dirty, horrible ways. Thanks @romanarose, for the pair of eyes and as always, thanks for everyone who asked for more and cheered me with this. Really, I can't thank you enough.
(I must admit that I don't know if I'll ever continue this, specially with the way life is going now. Although part of me wants to get to three thousand sex scenes, I need to be honest: not even I know if this will continue. Don't wanna give y'all false promises.)
Pairing: No outbreak old man!Joel x Reader
CW: Joel being bold, me trying dirty talk and failing miserably, a handjob, very much predator/prey dynamics
No beta, we die like lonely writers xD
Joel behaved as if nothing happened, and so did you.
Things were somewhat tense though. Not for Joel, no. The man just smirked everytime he saw you then lowered his head and chuckled, as if he knew something you didn’t know.
You had to admit it bothered you.
Cocky bastard.
You moved into the kitchen, needing some water. You could hear the faint sounds of tv in the living room, so Joel was sitting down on his recliner, watching some late night sports.
You wondered if Joel would want a snack before sleep, as you filled your cup distractedly. You took a drink, considering the options in the fridge, when a loud cheering sound comes from the living room. You startled, the glass shatters on the floor with a loud noise and your yelp.
“What happened?” Joel yelled from the living room, concern clear in his voice.
“I just dropped a glass, Joel! You don’t need to worry, I’m gonna clean it.” You said, getting on your knees carefully. You placed your hands on the floor and lowered your face to see better. Glass was tricky to see.
You checked the floor, picking the pieces of glass and piling them together; you thought of getting a bag, or some paper to wrap them on after making sure all the glass was retrieved.
“Mmmm…” you heard, and you turned your head back. Joel was at the kitchen door, looking down intensely at your ass. “Such a heavenly view… Makes me wanna get on my knees… Worship your asshole and your pretty pussy with my tongue.” Joel licked his lips and you blushed.
“Joel!” You said, sternly.
“What?” He asked, no shame whatsoever.
“Come on.” You complained, picking the rest of the shattered glass as quickly as you could. As you move angrily you felt a sharp sting of pain. “Fuck!”
Joel quickly wobbled by your side and watched your bleeding finger.
“Here, honey… Leave it. We can clean it later.” He offered you his broad hand, suddenly overflowing with gentleness. “Lemme see your hand.”
You stood up, mesmerized by his eyes, and show you his hand. He held it between his calloused, big, bony ones and slowly leaned to suckle on the tip of your finger.
You were so mesmerized by his deep brown eyes focused on yours, glinting with mischief, that you only realize what he is doing with the first gentle swipe of his tongue against your skin. He gently swirled his tongue around your fingertip, suckling softly; he was showing you what he can do with your clit.
He smirked when you moaned, still holding your wrist with one hand, the other moving down out of your sight.
Joel sighed deeply, in relief, and you realized he opened his pants and took his cock out. He massaged the shaft slowly and you could only watch, dumbrounded, your mouth half open.
“He always wakes up for you, honey.” Joel chuckled. “I thought we were retired, but there he is. Since you came into the house my pants got way too tight. I keep thinking of making you my three-hole-wonder, honey.” He licked his lips and smirked. “Maybe you should give him a little kiss, at least to calm him down.”
The old man looked down, pouting and doe eyed, then back to your face. You found it hard to resist him, when he looked at you like that.
“We can’t do this, Joel.” You swallowed your saliva, considering his cock. It was long, and thick, from tip to base, the head an angry purple that made you want to suck on it. You considered the pain and the stretch he would give you, and the more you thought, the more you wanted to just give in. “I’m supposed to care for your needs.” You said, distractedly.
Your mouth watered and you licked your lips.
“We are both adults.” His eyebrows raised, and he cocked his head. “This is clearly a need. And only you can care for this one.” He smirked again, proudly. His hand kept moving, in this slow, hypnotizing pace.
“So you don’t do this to the day nurse?” You scoffed.
“She’s not my type.” Joel shrugged, a playful expression in his eyes. “Way too young and way too thin.” After a moment of silence, Joel steps forward and holds your hand. He watched your reactions carefully, sliding his calloused thumb over the back of your hand.
You didn’t move.
Joel raised your hand to his face and spit on your palm. You jumped, startled; another chuckle came from him, filling the space between you. Gently, he wrapped your hand around his cock. His big, bony fingers engulfed yours, guiding you into his rhythm.
His cock felt a bit soft at first, but it still got bigger and harder in your hand.
“Mmmmm… Haven’t felt this good in decades.” He muttered, his voice low, eyes closed.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whispered, more a reminder to yourself than a refusal.
“Not standing in the kitchen, we shouldn’t.” Joel growled. “But you didn’t give me much choice… You keep running, bunny. I’d rather taste you, but I take what I can get.”
“I… I…” You lost your words as you look into his eyes. He watched you intensely, his eyes locked into yours. You felt like he was drinking every single one of your reactions, a hawk-eyed creature looming over you, ready to devour you whole.
“Give in, honey.” His voice was gentle, soft, in contrast with the hunger in his expression. “It will make our nights much more fun.”
You whined, leaning forward, your eyes closed. You felt Joel’s lips against yours, one big hand cupping the back of your head, pulling you closer. He growled into the kiss. Your whole body tensed; you squeeze him, the meaning of what you’re doing suddenly very real.
Joel’s fingers clenched, tugging on your hair tightly. Your head moved back; you gasped as Joel’s slips slid down your jaw, towards your ear.
“Wanna run, bunny?” He whispered, his voice suddenly soft. “Don’t run. Just wanna ruin you a little bit.”
His hand squeezed yours; you followed his move, squeezing his cock. Joel moaned, cock twitching in your hand. He moaned loudly, hips thrusting forward. Grunting, he came; some of it transferring to your hand, some splashing against your thigh.
Joel stepped back, releasing you, a smug satisfied smile on his lips.
“See? Just a little bit.” He chuckled, pulling himself into his pants.
“Joel, we shouldn’t…”
“Honey, if you didn’t want me to keep trying, you would have told me. Or Sarah.” Joel huffed, interrupting you impatiently. “She would have killed me by now.”
“How do you know… You could lie to her and she would believe you.”
“I raised her right. And hell if she doesn’t know exactly the kind of man I am.” Joel chuckled, looking at you with a warm, appreciative smile. He shrugged. “You keep saying we shouldn’t, we can’t… You just don’t say we won’t.”
You bristled, puffing your chest and placing your hands on your hips, glaring at him. Your mouth half open, a thousand million tiny things you could say bubble in your throat.
“Go on. Just say: Joel, I won’t play this game with you. Stop right now.” Joel stood in front of you, watching your expression carefully.
The silence extended between you both.
You considered saying it, but you knew it would not be true. Deep inside you wanted him to hunt and ruin you. His smile broadened slowly, as the silent seconds went by. You blushed, lowering your head. You shook it gently.
“That’s what I thought.” He stepped closer to you, even his voice smug. “It’s ok, honey.” Joel caressed your hair, burying his fingers into the strands. He pulled your hair, making you look at him. “Nothing wrong with wanting this.”
Joel kissed you, hungry, impatient, devouring.
Then he left, informing you he would have an early night with a wink.
