#multirono writes

your body lies slack in bed, limbs clammy to the touch. the only thing that can be heard aside from your gentle exhaling is the humidifier perched in the corner of the bedroom. 

anton’s body is firm behind yours, static—until he begins to stir.

one of his long arms is heavy and drawn over your waist, his hand subconsciously drawing you impossibly closer at the hip until you’re pressed to his front. each twitch of his cock that’s now leaking and hard meets your backside. 

you’d had numerous conversations about exploring the world of somnophilia, you’d even gone as far as consenting. 

but the two of you had never tried it. 

in true anton fashion he felt like a monster laying at your side, plotting. compelled to wake you right in his moment because he was needy.

and although he felt awful, you know, about the fact that the first thing you’d hear today would be him asking if you’d satisfy his urges and let him fuck you, the ache of his cock nestled in the curve of your ass felt worse.

against his own discretion anton’s hips rut behind you, his heartbeat is sporadic at the thought of you waking up and seeing—or catching him like this. his eyes are heavy when he forces them open, only to squeeze them shut attempting to bypass the groan resting on the tip of his tongue. his cheeks burn with a crimson tinge as the wet patch on the crotch of his underwear expands. his entire body is scorching behind you as he cranes his neck, creating more surface area for the air con to graze.

your hips momentarily jolt backwards, a particularly breathy sigh that almost mimics a whimper falls from your lips. anton freezes, swearing that he heard you mumbling something.

but you don’t wake up, in fact your lower body falls motionless again.

a thin layer of sweat causes the lousy material of your pajamas to adhere to you like a second skin. 

writhing around in your sleep was unlike you—so was having a wet dream to be fair, although you weren’t entirely sure that you’d been dreaming this whole time.

truthfully your imagination could never replicate the weight of anton’s wandering hands on your upper body and the warmth of his mouth on your thighs.

your mind is hazy, eyes weighing the same as a stack of bricks. they almost burn when you open them for a split second to turn your head and check the time.

it's just shy of 6AM, which was certainly early by your own definition. but never too early to feel the broad presence of anton’s shoulders between your legs.

you feel an untamed mess tickling the insides of your thighs, anton’s figure forcing them wider and wider apart until the hinge of your hips start to ache due to the stretch so shortly after waking up.

“toni?” you call out, the yawn escaping your lips louder than your voice in volume.

no reply.

supple lips ghost the exposed skin of your knees, then the insides your thighs, leaving a wet spot behind each time there was a change in location.

your nipples harden when anton’s thumb brushes the underside of your bust. the anticipation has you covered in goosebumps, shoulders shuddering when he places a kiss to the waistband of your panties and nudges your clit with his nose. 

“fuck—are you serious?” you attempt to plead. the question is rhetorical, but a groan is drawn from the back of anton’s throat, muffled by your flesh. you crack an eye open, immediately lifting yourself onto your elbows to watch the disturbance.

“anton?” you urge again, voice barely any louder and rough with the remnants of sleep. 

still no response. 

just another kiss, this time it’s hot and open mouthed with lips puckered against your covered clit. then a kitten lick through the cotton barrier has you absentmindedly bucking your hips away from the mattress.

anton has no intentions to tease after already fondling you awake, two of his lengthy fingers swipe the crotch of your panties to the side and he has half a mind to smirk at the way you twitch, his knuckles brushing your puffy folds.

you’re panting in anticipation, lips parted and throat dry.

the first drag of anton’s fingers through your wetness has your back ached. your pussy begins leaking on command as if it were crying, pleading for more. hole puckering, practically a “welcome” sign.

“couldn’t even sleep,” anton murmurs, lips still ghosting the inside of your right thigh. “I needed you so bad, baby.” 

“i can tell.” you sigh, threading a hand through the mop of hair on his head and holding him impossibly closer to where you needed him “so badly”.

the same two digits from before are buried knuckle deep instantaneously, the way that anton hisses as he watches your cunt choke on his fingers is sinful.

“ohhh my god—toni, please!” you yelp, unsure what you’re asking for. 

you’d been asleep less than 5 minutes ago, so the combination of his fingers so deep inside and his lips continuing to travel up and down the expanse of your exposed skin has you struggling to form a coherent thought.

“how is it that you’re always this tight?” anton asks, eyes finding yours. the way his gaze reads innocence, as if he has no idea what he’s doing to you sends your mind into a frenzy. 

“d-don’t know—shit! i don’t know, just don’t stop!” you plead, head thrown back between your shoulders at the feeling of anton’s fingers curling upwards until they’re pointed back at him.

it doesn’t shock you all that you’re this close to cumming, not with the speed in which your boyfriend is stretching you out. your hips meet each flick of his wrist halfway, eager. abdomen tense as you fight to hold out. 

but it was useless.

a particularly hard thrust of anton’s fingers has your body jerking upright. your hips are hungrily bucking but his free hand is quicker, abandoning its assault on both your tits to anchor your lower body to the bed.

from this angle you can see the man below you in his entirety.

his hair is a mess, partially from how he’d slept and partially from the way you’d been using his head to for leverage. he’s in just a tank top and pajama pants, biceps flexed due to the hold he had on your hips.

but his hips were what possessed your wandering eyes.

anton’s rutting helplessly against the mattress beneath him, each whimper and sigh of relief to leave his mouth meets your cunt. 

the sight has you mindlessly spreading your legs even wider, eyes dewy and jaw dropped in awe as the grown man that was easily twice your size continued whimpering whilst getting off on playing in your pussy. 

anton’s mouth finds your clit, sucking until the skin is pulled taut between his lips. he releases momentarily with a faint “mwah” sound before pressing his tongue flat against the swollen pearl and bobbing his head up and down. 

the next noise to leave you is pornographic—arguably too loud to pair with the time that the digital clock on your nightstand reads. 

if you were capable of being any more conscious this early in the morning you’d feel a slight bit embarrassed. but right now the only thing you can focus on is the squelch of anton’s fingers as he simultaneously feasts on your clit.

“antonnn! nng—i can’t, i can’t!” you mewl, the hand in his hair contradicts your statement, holding him flush against you while your orgasm has you making a mess in the palm of his hand.

“i know, baby. i know.” anton coos, releasing your clit to utter the praise that barely meets your ringing ears. 

your chest heaves and your eyes are painfully heavy, but you pry them open when anton rises to his knees between your legs. he’s got one hand beside your head for balance and the other cradling your chin.

his lips meet yours for the first time this morning and you feel the pit of your stomach heat. the kiss is slow, a mixture of both your labored breathing. anton’s tongue is hot in your mouth, languid and precise in an attempt to completely merge with yours.

you’re chasing him when pulls away, only to drop your head onto the pillow beneath you in defeat.

you’re whimpering when you feel him press his hips forward, eyes fluttering at the weight of his rigid cock on the front of your panties that cling to your cunt shamelessly.

“you’re fucking huge.” you whisper, clit already paired with the heartbeat in your chest.

the only response you receive from anton is a smirk before he’s dry humping you again. his bottom lip caught between his teeth when he felt another bead of precum leak from the tip of his cock and onto the cotton beneath his pajamas.

then he’s leaning forward, until his head meets your shoulder, placing a tender kiss right beneath your ear.

“need to fuck you.” he pants as hips remain in motion. "it's been the only thing on my mind since i opened my eyes."

you’re nodding, unable to fix your lips to form a proper sentence.

that’s all anton needs to begin lowering the waistband of his pants just enough, tucking his fingers into the hem of your panties and tugging them down. he waits to hear the sound of them hitting the ground once you kick them off, then he’s fisting his cock and pumping it once, twice…three times. hissing at the lack of care in which he was gripping himself.

nudging him out of the way you take over. with one hand you barely cover half of what he was able to, but you can tell when anton’s hips buck forwards that he prefers your grasp over his own.

“y-you gotta stop.” he warns, stuttering when you squeeze. “or i’ll cum in your hand.”

huffing as if saying “fine.” you release your hold, hand moving to grip at his forearm next to your head.

using the hand that’s not supporting his weight he holds his cock at the base, circling your clit with the tip just to watch you squirm and hear your sounds of protest. 

then he’s easing himself forward, trembling with restraint as every vein in his neck and arms becomes visible. it takes everything in him not to force his hips flush against yours at once.

“anton—f-fuck!” you pant, back arched away from the bed. although it felt like he was fully inside, you could tell he wasn’t with the way he'd barely been able take a deep breath, his entire frame frozen above you.

one more fluid roll of his hips and you’re gasping, followed by a sob at the feeling of him bottoming out. 

“this…t-this—fuck! this is what i needed from you, baby.” anton pants, each of his thrusts deep, hips brutally slow in pace. 

“y—ah, so deep, i feel so full.” you moan, hand curled around his bicep. the pads of your fingers basically committing the feeling of his muscles flexing beneath your digits to memory. 

“yeah?” anton taunts, grinding his hips at an angle that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your mouth open so wide that you think you may drool when you start nodding in response.

“shit—are you splitting me in half?!” you cry, chest rising and falling rapidly.

the chuckle that leaves anton’s mouth is cut short by a strangled groan when your cunt spasms around his cock.

but his hips don’t falter. 

a large hand finds its way to your front, applying slight pressure to your stomach where the outline of anton’s cock comes and goes.

“can you feel me here?” he whispers, shoulders shuddering at the weight of his own hand pressed down on his cock through your gut.

you’re a mess, an array of “yes” and “oh my god” rushed from between your lips, similar to a chant.

“i’m gonna cum—anton, please!” you beg, doubtful that you’d be able to hold it in anyway due to your last orgasm having been minutes ago.

“i’m not stopping you, baby.” your boyfriend encourages. “c’mon give it to me.”

his hand finds its way between your legs once again, thumbing at your clit. the inflamed nob aches as you’re on the brink of overstimulation, but the burn is addictive and the knot in the stomach grows painfully tight.

you can’t warn anton again before you begin to milk his cock. your body goes rigid for a split second, mouth open. the breath you’d been trying to let out is caught in your throat, depriving you of oxygen momentarily.

your hips mindlessly move in tandem with anton’s, only stopping when your limbs begin to sting. the hand that has a hold on his arm, tightening in grip, enough to bruise.  

you let the man above use you as you attempt to catch your breath, cooing in contentment with each lick of praise you both exchange. his hips finally slow as he paints your insides, thrusts growing sloppier with each thick white rope of cum being stuffed back into your mess of a hole.

anton bottoms out one last time, strength waning. then he’s using both his hands to support his weight while he pulls out. you greedily whine at the loss inside, this only makes the nasty grin on his lips spread wider.

once he’s laying comfortably he waits for you to turn towards him, seeking his hold.

placing your head on his chest you crane your neck, placing another kiss on anton’s lips before your head rests on him again.

you intend to go back to sleep, already sensing the physical consequences of sex before the sun was fully up.

but you have one thing to say to your boyfriend before your eyes shut for the umpteenth time since they’d first opened.

you’re giggling before you fully ask, but your lips don’t curl in mockery. you’re genuinely curious.

“what was it, a wet dream?”

“if that would help my case, then yes. i had a wet dream.” anton says, cheeks rosy and eyes glued shut avoiding your gaze.

“next time—because i’m sure there will be a next time,” you start. your voice is embarrassingly low in volume when you pause in slight hesitation. 

nonchalant!jo that has no idea just how good he is at taking care of you. but that’s because he doesn’t do it for validation, he’s just good at knowing what you need—sometimes before you need it.

nonchalant!jo will never truly understand that you’re just as obsessed with him as he is you, but since being with him makes you the happiest girl in the world he wouldn’t dare do anything to interfere.

early in your relationship he has to grow accustomed to what it means to be “needed” by someone that he would consider so "out of his league". but once he gets it he realizes there truly is no match better for him than you.

nonchalant!jo finds no satisfaction greater than making it happen. whatever “it” is and by any means. 

at the drop of a hat he’s carrying your things without even asking if you’d be fine doing it on your own. propping your legs up after a long day and asking you if you want to talk about it, ready to change the subject or be all ears depending on your response. greeting you at the most spontaneous times with tokens of apprecitation. not only because he knows you will give him the same look you always do before you're wrapping your arms around his neck in a tender embrace, but because he feels like it.

nonchalant!jo wants nothing more than to make you feel good, even if in the beginning of your relationship he has no real experience.

he spent hours recalling everything he'd been told by his friends who had been sexually active for years ahead of him, even attempting to watch porn he'd been unfamililar with. all of this to ensure that he'd be prepared to show you another way he was more than capable of taking care of you.

nonchalant!jo admits that he doesn’t know the first thing about foreplay when you finally begin to explore intimacy together. 

but despite his lack of experience he handles the situation with an abundance of poise. he apologizes more than you know humanly possible, offering you a firm kiss on the lips before he’s already taking your advice and trying again, easing his warm slender fingers back inside—slowly this time. his eyes, like magnets, are watching your every move. committing the visual of you contorting in pleasure to memory. 

jo doesn’t stop until he truly feels like he’s got you figured out. 

the tips of his fingers prune between your trembling thighs before he finally pulls away, cooing at your limp figure and offering you praise. your chest swells as he mutters a hushed “thank you” into the damp skin of your neck, retreating to the foot of the bed. he glides a warm cloth against your puffy cunt, careful to be gentle. then he grabs you anything he thinks you may need: water, a clean pair panties, and your shorts from their abandoned place on the floor. 

he lays behind you, aware that you can feel his brick-like intrusion nestled between your thighs. he knows you wouldn’t have minded going further, but it’s not important.

as long as you’re taken care of.

once nonchalant jo! knows the literal ins and outs of your body, he becomes a big problem. 

you’re sat atop his lap, your hands clasped behind his head as you shamelessly squirm.

“jo, please—d-don’t tease.” you whine, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. he shivers at the contact, hissing and tilting his head without breaking eye contact with you. your bottom lip is trapped between your teeth, you’re fighting the smirk off your lips as you watch goosebumps decorate his skin’s surface.

“i’m not teasing you…well not intentionally.” jo whispers, his hand at your hip delivering a firm squeeze before it falls, dragging down the side of your thigh until it rests lazily. 

“just tell me what you want, pretty girl.”

“you know exactly what i want.” you mumble, taking jo’s hand in your own and placing it on the front of your pants instead. 

without another word his fingers dip into your waistband, as if to silently reply.

the first press of jo’s thumb against your swollen clit has your back arched, forcing your chest towards his face. he wastes no time planting numerous open mouthed kisses to the exposed skin at the neckline of your top. his own flesh runs hot at the combined thud of your heartbeat beneath his lips and the throbbing of your clit against the pad of his thumb. this is all extremely addictive.

“fuck!” you pant, holding jo impossibily closer with your hand at the back of his head.

your heat is more than welcoming to the first two fingers jo thrusts inside. it only takes a few flicks of his wrist for your arousal to quickly pool in the palm of his hand. 

“you take my fingers so well baby, love seeing you like this.” jo mewls, pulling his head away to watch you fall apart.

when you notice the way he refuses to pull his eyes away from your body you whimper, ironically growing shy as a deep huff leaves your lips, your cunt brutality clenching around his fingers.

you're well aware that he's just as affected as you are, but he barely shows it and you're salvating at the fact.

with his free hand jo alternates between toying at your nipples until they grow hard and palming your tits. 

you pull the front of your tank top down messily until your top half is practically bare, hungry to be fondled properly. 

jo's pupils dilate, he's focused. his gaze follows your ministrations until you're exposed then he's leaning towards you again without breaking eye contact. his lips enclose around one of your nipples and the pit of your stomach is molten.

“nng! jo—baby i’m so close,” you whine, gasping as he repeatedly punches that familiar gummy spot inside. your eyes flutter, head lulling, suddenly too heavy to be held upright. you can’t help but dig your nails into jo’s shoulder for leverage. he hisses beneath you at the bite but you both know he all but minds.

“what are you waiting for?” jo quips, none of his motions between your legs falter.

“don’t wanna finish like this—shit!” you choke on your words when his teeth graze your nipple. your core begins to burn as you fight off your orgasm. 

“please—w-want you inside. need you inside.”

in a blink jo’s pulling his fingers out of you. his hand are already on his belt buckle so he ignores the way you whimper at the loss. freeing himself he messily pumps his cock, hissing at the lack of care that he’s handling his leaking flesh with. but that’s immediately of little importance as he watches you position yourself over him with no hesitation. 

he knows what you need.

his grip on your hip is firm as he forces his cock between your folds. you roll your hips until his blunt tip nudges your clit, shoulders shuddering and lips parting in a gasp.

jo stills your hips before pulling you down until your pelvis is flush against his. the sound that escapes your throat is pornographic and you undoubtedly start to tremble. 

“shit! ‘s such a tight squeeze.” jo pants, to himself rather than to you, although he doesn’t adjust the volume of his voice much. 

call it placebo, or maybe just the jo effect, but you think you can feel the tip of his dick in your chest. 

without too much time to adjust you feel jo’s hips thrusting upwards and you have to force yourself to let out a breath you had no idea you were holding. he alternates between languid strokes and grinding into you when he’s buried the deepest. 

your eyes are glossed over as you can barely hold your weight above your boyfriend each time his cock is completely sheathed inside. 

it annoyingly seemed effortless—the way jo repeatedly delivered you satisfaction beyond anything you could’ve managed on your own. 

he couldn’t give less of a fuck about his own pleasure, enthralled by the sight of you writhing around in his lap. proof that you're being taken care of the way he knows you desire. the way he knows you deserve. 

once your eyebrows furrow—the way he knows they do before you start babbling and creaming his cock—his hand that was just inside of you a short moment ago is on the familiar path between your thighs, determined to send you over the edge.

in minutes you’re an incoherent mess at the mouth.

“that's it baby, give it to me.” jo insists, never stilling his movements.

suddenly the calculated torque of his hips forces your body rigid. a singular high pitched moan leaves your lips and once you start cum you don’t know if you’ll stop.

your cunt absurdly strangles jo’s cock at the base, his grunts fall music to your ears as they ring—and he’s never met a better feeling. 

being so deep inside of you was heavenly, but he could’ve cum from just the visual of you so fucked out that your body could barely withstand the stimulation.

as your breathing returns to normal and you can bear the weight of your own limbs with some assistance, jo is quick to find your lips with his own, whispering a plethora of praise in between the two of you when you finally pull away.

the smirk on his face is sinful, and your chest immediately grows hot.

because he’s not laughing at you, or even teasing.

he’s genuinely pleased, but not because he’s still buried deep inside of your cunt, victim to the way your walls spasm as your orgasm culminates. he’s pleased because your cum is leaking out of you and into his lap. 

you’re content, so he is too. that’s why he’s smiling. 

the thought has you nauseatingly smitten. enough to make your head spin more than it already is. 

because this is the jo you know, the jo he’s always been. 

after all…to take care of you was to take care of himself.

yomi note: yay ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ you made it to the end! thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed.

also i miss writing for all of you so much :( UGH i have lots of unfinished fics and also finished drafts that just need to be edited. i've been having such a hard time getting thoughts out of my head and into coherant sentences that can be published lmao. but just know i'm not abonding this account, it's harder to get rid of me than you think...

before you can properly position yourself above him he’s forcing you stationary with a hand on your hip.

you barely manage to whine in protest before anton’s chuckling beneath you, causing your own figure to vibrate in the process.

“relax, i just wanna see what all the hype is about.” he taunts, voice barely meeting your ears as he forces the smirk off his lips to match yours in a pout.

your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but that only lasts a split section.

when the crown of your head is met with the same charcoal colored polyester that got you in this position to begin with, you immediately understand what he’s getting at.

now instead of him, it’s you, sporting the black fitted cap on your head. it doesn’t fit you as well as it fits anton and you admit you feel ridiculous under his gaze. but you manage.

the final stamp of possession is embroidered near your right temple in cursive.

‘Anton Lee’

the visual forces another white-hot spurt from the tip of your boyfriend’s cock onto the exposed skin of your inner thighs.

“this getting you off?” you question, voice low in volume whilst you mindlessly secure the hat on yourself until. as soon as rests comfortably you tilt your head as if to ask “good enough?”

“didn’t you start this?”

before anton can tease your any further your hand is between your legs once again.

you don’t even bother pulling your his pants or underwear down fully, looking to save as much time as possible.

the contrast of anton’s angry pleaser between your thighs has you swallowing hard and praying he won’t take note of the way drool pools in your mouth.

he’s big enough to basically cast a shadow onto your front, easily reaching above your belly button in “height” with the way you’re currently positioned.

your skin runs molten, a mixture of vulnerability and the lack of space between the two of you.

eagerly forcing the crotch of your panties to the side you hiss at the first drag of his cock through your messy folds.

“all this…for me?” anton whispers, clearly referring to the way your cunt is leaking on his cock, the evidence reflected in the minuscule amount of light your bedside lamp provides.

growing shy you opt for a nod, whimpering as you buck your hips once more. his tip, heavy and oozing pearl colored beads, nudges your clit and you twitch.

in one singular motion you guide the entirety of anton inside, wrongfully holding your breath once he’s buried to the hilt.

the burn is familiar, and it only tempts you more.

“y–you’re—shit—so big, ton.” you whine, attempting to catch your breath and adjust to the stretch.

“yeah? you can take it, princess.” anton pants, anchoring both his hands at your hips, almost insisting you start to move. “my pretty girl can take it all.”

the fullness is nauseating—in the best way. anton’s cock admittedly had ruined sex with anybody else for you the moment you fucked him for the first time.

but clearly you had no complaints.

you couldn’t help but fall addicted to the demand that taking all of him called for. pressure from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

and you’d do it time and time again with no regrets.

the first lift of your hips is sloppy and uncoordinated, but anton is beyond satisfied. when you allow your eyes to drift downwards you can see every single vein from the tips of his fingers to the underside of his forearms.

he’s trying not to cum.

“mmm—you were made for this, weren’t you? made for me?” anton rasps, his teeth clenched in an attempt to resist.

“y—nng—yes, anton!” you cry , interrupted by an upwards grind of his own hips that punches the tip of his cock against that gummy spot inside.

your head lulls backwards, the brim of anton’s hat knocked by your shoulder blades.

but you don’t let it fall.

your free hand forces it the right way around until your view is partially obscured.

obviously the fact that an item from his closet adorns your figure is having a similar effect on him as it is you. he watches you put on a show as you adjust it before continuing to swirl your hips in his lap.

the noises escaping the back of his throat are a sinful mixture of moaning and whimpering.

if for whatever reason another body was near they may have mistaken them as sobs.

“wearing it better than me, baby” anton pants, nodding towards the accessory atop your head. then he’s hissing at the increased hold your spasming cunt has on each inch of him.

you can tell he’s close, but the way your abdomen is clenching proves that you’re in no position to judge. the squelching coming from below only sends your mind further and further into a frenzy.

“fuck—‘s good…really good.” you pant, tilting your head back slightly to gaze at the man in front of you. but the moment you lock eyes you find yourself regretting your decision.

his gaze is simultaneously near and far. he’s clearly spent but also zeroed in on you and only you.

beads of sweat are peppered across anton’s upper lip and you fight the urge to lean forward and take it between your own. the entirety of his neck is drenched as well. you unintentionally mewl at the sight, imagining the brine on your tongue if you were to lean forward for a lick or two.

fuck it.

careful not to allow anton’s cock to slip out you lean forward, rotating the hat on your head in the process to avoid it getting in the way. once you’re impossibly close you immediately connect your lips right below his collarbone, nipping until his moans follow as instant gratification.

the crack of his hand against your ass cheek causes you to jolt, whimpering shortly after. the sting forces you to clench around him once more, a hot gush trickling from your cunt down expanse of his cock.

your orgasm is coming in hot and fast, adding to the intimacy of the moment.

each of your limbs is tacky with sweat, your arousal practically gluing you to the man beneath you. at this point you’re barely even fucking yourself on anton’s cock due to the way your lower body is full of pins and needles—but to put it simply, you’re a mess.

and anton doesn’t give a fuck.

he’s the only man on earth that could get you this close to cumming, this quickly and with little to no regard for his own release.

truth be told, despite knowing the ins and outs of your body, he could’ve shot his load inside of you the moment you let his hat rest on your head. but you guiding his cock between your thighs was the cherry on top.

sick fuck.

you need to marry him.

eventually you and anton are in sync, slow grinding and labored breathing into each other’s mouths being the name of the game.

“c-close,” you choke, eyes momentarily rolling towards the back of your head. “shit! need—wanna c-cum. wanna cum with you.” the trouble finishing your thought comes with anton’s thumb on your clit, lewdly fondling like the joystick on a gaming controller.

“i’m with you, baby.” anton whispers, planting a kiss to the corner of your lips.

immediately you’re chasing him for a proper kiss when he pulls away, greedily whining as if he isn’t taking you in his arms as leverage and flipping the both of you until your back meets the mattress and his knees bracket your hips.

now it’s anton’s turn to finish what you started.

all it takes is a series of careful deep strokes to get you where you needed to be. the change in angle has you convinced that you can feel each of anton’s thrusts in your chest. tears prick behind your eyelids and your mouth starts to move beyond your mind’s capacity.

“ohmygod!” you manage to cry out, words both slurred and music to anton’s ears as he fucks you through your orgasm.

he follows right behind you—well the mess you made of him. once he can feel you slobbering around his cock his hips aren’t as precise, but you’re too far gone for it to matter.

your ears start to ring and through the disarray you can hear him begging you to cum inside.

in an instant you’re a blabbering mess. nodding like you’re answering the proposition of a lifetime and careful not to let anton’s hat slip from your head.

that’s all it takes for him to press his hips to yours one last time, painting your insides ivory.

anton leans down, finally delivering you the kiss you’d been waiting for. your heart swells and you shockingly manage to kiss back, parting your lips in anticipation of the weight of his tongue on yours. you sigh into his mouth, noticing that he hasn’t even gone soft inside of you.

when you pull back first his eyebrows lift, as if to challenge.

“one more?” you murmur, suddenly coy beneath his gaze.

“on one condition,” anton starts. now it’s your face that reads confusion.

“keep the hat on.”

even when you two were actively fucking anton had to have some part of you in his mouth or on his tongue. 

specifically, he always found an excuse to play with your tits. claiming that it was to please you.

although it was abundantly clear to the both of you who truly enjoyed it more.  

it’s the tail end of your period and although anton insisted…you opt against period sex. 

so now you lay sprawled out in bed, dry humping your boyfriend like a crazed freak. 

anton’s lengthy body is slotted between your legs; the weight of his hardened cock against your thigh is no help in soothing the agonizing ache of your cunt. each drag against his thigh sending a wave of pleasure from the pit of your stomach up through your chest.

your tits are beyond swollen, sensitive to the touch.

and anton’s busy making a whiny mess of you. 

your shirt is completely deformed from the way he continuously yanked at it to tongue at your nipples. begging, “please.” in his featherlight voice just swearing he just wanted to make you feel good, despite the way he’s rock hard and rutting against the underside of your thigh.

his hand, gentle in contrast with his mouth, cradles your unoccupied mound. 

“toni,” you sigh, jaw borderline unhinged with the way your mouth is wide open—whimpers seeming to be the only way you can indicate to him that he’s making you feel good. 

“shit—baby, you look so pretty like this,” he groans, “wish i had a photo of your tits.” his words are muffled by your cleavage.

you can tell he didn’t intend for you to hear the second part, but he commits.

“proof that you let me do whatever i want when i get you like this.” 

you whine, legs twitching near his hips that force you wide open.

“then take one.” 

his eyes momentarily got wide at the suddenness of those three words.

“yeah? you wanna pose for me?” he urges, eyeing the way you’re covered in the sheen of his spit, scattered hues of violet already in bloom across your entire chest. 

you don’t have to oblige again before he’s already got his film camera in the hand that isn’t squeezing each of your tits, grip embedded like he’s got a hold on a piece of memory foam. 

he hisses at the way your plush flesh bulges from each space between his slender fingers.

you’re embarrassingly responsive as you let anton have his way with you, the noises that fall rushed from between your lips meet his ears, unwavering and combined with the shuttering of his camera. your cheeks flushed, eyes glossed over as they take in the mess of your boyfriend while he’s straddled above you. 

his hair is tousled from the way you ran your fingers through it moments ago, a thin layer of sweat altering the way his shirt clings to his sculpted upper body.

your cunt clenches around nothing.

“gonna develop every. single. photo.” anton mumbles from behind the camera.

your doe eyes peer up at him through the lense. pleading, although you’re not sure what for.

"say cheese." he snorts sarcastically.

*click*

the shutter sounds and a brief flash blinds you.

“for all the nights that i have to be away from you,” anton continues, throwing the camera to the side of your body not caring how it lands on the mattress with a faint thud. 

then his hips are flush against yours, the press of his cock against your clit that’s completely covered makes your thighs shake.

“maybe i’ll scatter the photos across the bed, fuck my hand, wishing it was you touching me instead—cum all over the prints, paint your tits...this pretty face.” he rolls his hips forwards, bringing a hand up to tilt your head towards him. his sentence is punctuated with the way your lips part in a moan.

the way the blood leaking from your insides mixes with your arousal is embarrasingly erotic. each time anton grinds between your hips a squelch can be heard.

you feel disgusting, but the feeling fades immediately when you consider how anton was ready to stick his dick in you earlier despite the crimson beneath your soiled panties. that was a dead give away that you being on your period didn't actually matter to him much.

you lose it, biting down on your tongue to contain yourself.

“you’d like that, hmm?” your boyfriend taunts, his hips not stopping but instead pressing harder. he’s watching your face with intent to watch your resolve continue to slip.

“pretending you don’t, always coy with me so i get embarrassed for wanting this.” he tugs on one of your nipples particularly rough, then he lands an open handed strike in the same spot, watching the way it bounces back right in front of his face.

you yelp, head lulling back between your shoulder blades. both your eyes grow extremely heavy before they fall shut.

“my dirty girl.”

you’re gushing at the lewdness of the nickname, your ankles that are now locked behind him cause the heels of your feet to dig into his lower back.

then his lips are on you again, soothing the increased throbbing of your poor buds.

anton takes both your breasts in his hands, pressing them together until your nipples almost create an arrow pointing directly towards his greedy mouth.

parting his lips he holds out his tongue, flattening it and shaking his head side to side against your nipples that grow even harder than before at the sensation.

the way you choke on a whimper makes his stomach flip, his brows furrow at the feeling of his cock sloppily leaking into his boxers.

“anton—oh my god!” you practically scream, imagining how your throat will ache in the hours to follow.

the thought that you weren’t the one that was supposed to enjoy any of this more than anton is furthest from your mind.

all you can do is reel at the feeling, pussy beginning to spasm. 

it doesn’t take much longer before you start to cum in your shorts, entire body trembling while you hold onto anton like he’d disappear into thin air.

you can feel the heat of his own release against your thigh. his tip damp through the rough barrier of his pants. he’s persistent in smearing his cum against your legs that are still spread impossibly wide. both your hips continue in motion until his cock begins to soften.

anton releases your nipple from his mouth with a pop, bottom lip glistening as it’s connected to you by a singular string of his salvia.

you’re spent, painfully overstimulated now. you attempt to physically recoil against his touch. hissing when he places one last kiss to each of your tits before attempting to fix the disarray of your garments.

when both your bra and shirt are somewhat back in place you’re huffing, struggling to catch your breath. but your mind begins to venture.

your heart hammers in your chest at the thought of how many photos he’d taken, and you become dizzy with the uncertainty of his true intended use.

anton would never show the photos to anybody other than you.

he’d actually rather die than let someone else see the way you looked underneath him: fucked out, clothes messily pulled aside, covered in the evidence of just how much you belonged to him. the thought never crossed his mind. but you knew that.

that’s not why your heart was near lurching out of your chest.

you could only pray that he’d use the pictures of you to get him through a lonely night or two…or three.

but the mental image of him taking a massive hand to yank at his angrily leaky cock while he panted and whimpered as his stomach flexed, sweat soaking every inch of him—it was enough to send one final gush of wetness from of your cunt.

because he’d be doing it while looking at a plethora of photos that would reveal your tits that you let him bruise and abuse.

the last thing you remember before heading to work was how hard it was to leave anton. 

the way his body felt against yours beneath the sheets immediately after you woke up, the way he returned your kisses just as deeply despite being so sluggish. even how his voice sounded as he did a horrible job convincing you to leave because he’d “be here when you got back”. needless to say, there was nothing you wanted more than to stay in bed with him all morning.

but you also had to remain employed.

so with every ounce of self control you could muster, you got ready and planted one last sloppy kiss on his lips, bolting out the front door to avoid another wave of hesitation.

the day that followed was excruciating. 

numerous complaints, your boss on your ass in the most passive aggressive way, and obviously a bunch of texts from anton about how much you were missed.

textbook definiton of your own personal hell, but of course you managed. the man waiting for you at home acting as incentive to get you through several hours of misery.

when the time comes you basically teleport home after clocking out, not even bothering to text anton that you’d be back soon.

because he was already waiting for you.

once you made it through the door you greeted each other and then you practically started clawing at him, dodging most questions about how your day had been.

“take me back to bed?” you plead, already dropping your bag and peeling your shirt off your body.

anton obliged with a smile on his face, giggling every time you’d pull away from a kiss to shed another layer of clothing.

it doesn’t take much time for you to end up back where you started earlier today—this time on top of the sheets, resting on all fours while anton’s hips brutally snapped into yours.

there was no doubt that it felt good, of course it did. but you were positive that you had a maximum of two orgasms in you at the moment and you were already too close to creaming all over anton’s cock. 

it was all too much too fast.

“toni—wait a second!” you pant, not missing the way your boyfriend goes completely rigid behind you. 

“baby, am i hurting you? i’m sorry let me–“

“no!” you interrupt, peering at him over your shoulder. when he gets a good look at you he can tell that you’re not upset, or disappointed even. 

you’re almost smiling.

anton’s face reads a mix of fear and confusion. but this only makes the grin spread wider across your lips.

“i don’t want you to stop,” you insist, reaching behind you to grip at his waist and urge him to untense. your touch is tender, contrasting the ache between your legs.

“but it could last longer and feel even better…if you just take it easy.” 

anton’s cheeks flush in an instant, but he doesn’t look away. he can’t bring himself to.

you genuinely don’t say it to embarrass or discourage him. it was the opposite actually.

but clearly the best way to get your point across would be to demonstrate.

“let me show you.”

you can feel his eyes on you as you arch your back, stopping when your chest is almost pressed into the mattress beneath you. then you use your free hand for balance, holding the rest of your weight as your knees slightly buckle.

the same hand that rests on anton’s waist forces his hips away slightly and you sigh. the brutal drag of each ridge of his cock against the warmth of your cunt has you shuddering.

then you press your hips backwards until his balls tap your clit. your head falls forward, feeling impossibly heavy when the tip of anton’s cock is buried inside. 

the change in speed is effortless, it feels like you’d waited all your life for the opportunity to show him how to take you this. how you wanted him to have you.

slow and deep, without any intent to rush through this.

anton hisses behind you, his bottom lip is caught beneath his top row of teeth as he watches your hole flutter around his cock.

a second passes before you lean forward and retreat again, just as unhurried in speed as before. you unintentionally clench and unclench, head spinning at the way anton fills you to the brim, your movements allowing him to him to bottom out completely. 

“shit—can you feel how deep you are now, ton? i’m sooo full.” you whine, mind racing as you ignore the sudden urge to feel shy while trapped under his stare.

anton places a hand on your lower back.

for leverage, not control.

“y-yeah,” he rasps, chest heaving as he has to fight off his orgasm even harder than before. “i can feel all of you, baby.”

his eyes travel down to where you’re connected and his hips buck forward on their own, disrupting your flow and forcing a gasp out of you.

every time the back of your thighs meet the top of his, your flesh slightly recoils, making him whisper a rushed “fuuuuck” under his breath. a faint smacking noise echoes across the four walls of your bedroom.

after some time you and anton silently agree on this pace you’ve set, then you’re planting both your hands back on the bed in front of you. 

instead of drawing yourself back and forth on his cock you let him have free reign, trusting that he understood what you needed.

the first controlled roll of his hips has you groaning, the sound is muffled by the sheets beneath you. your is cunt immediately responsive—dramatically squelching around anton’s cock, strangling like he’d try to run away.

“fuck! antonnnn,” you whimper, your breathing heavy and labored.

“right there, baby? is this what you wanted, am i doing a good job?” anton whines, tone nauseatingly sweet. him fishing for praise causes you to moan in response and you figure it's a better reply than none, words barely at the forefront of your mind.

he can’t help himself, pulling a hand away from its place on your hip to land an open handed smack on your right ass cheek.

you don’t mind at all—and he knows that. the sting has your mind hazy, body jerking and lips parted to whimper.

anton’s eyes are once again glued to where you’re intertwined. he's shockingly composed while he intentionally watches the way your pussy devours every inch of him, greedy and unashamed. 

but the moment he notices a white ring forming at the base of his cock he loses it.

his hips stutter and his head is thrown back. the noises that leave his mouth hit the ceiling before they meet your ears but the vulnerability of him whining and begging has you spent.

“you’re milking me dry,” anton pants, hips still meticulously grinding, occasional strokes so deep that your body threatens to fold further. “fuck—it’s like you're trying to swallow me whole.”

you feel dizzy at the sound of him of all people fixing his lips to say something so obscene.

“toni—c-close!” you mewl, throat growing dry with the way your mouth had been hanging open.

your head tilts, struggling to find the strength that allows you to spare a glance at anton over your shoulder. 

when your eyes do reach him you have to stop them from falling towards the back of your head again. 

“i know, baby.” anton coos, eyes trained well as they stay planted on you. 

then everything comes to a halt. 

you don’t have time to register what’s happening but you’re immediately whining at the loss of anton inside of you, lips fixed in a pout ready to complain.

meanwhile the same hands that dug into you, anchoring you to bed, are forcing you flat on your back and you’re met with a greedy gaze as anton hovers over you.

his ample lips are parted and looking excessively chewed on. he’s drenched in sweat, hair a mess—the longer pieces stuck to the sides of his neck as a sign of him avoiding a haircut for a few months. 

he tilts his hips, the blunt head of his cock nudging your throbbing clit. a cry leaves the back of your throat and you clench around nothing.

“toni, please.” you beg, already reaching between your legs to guide him back to where you needed him most.

“please? what happened to slowing down?” anton quips, tilting his head in forged confusion before taking your hand in his own and  placing it beside your head.

his eyes fall to your chest, watching the way your nipples harden, bust trembling with each jagged breath you take.  

whatever would’ve been next to leave your lips is left unsaid. anton’s already holding your thigh flush to his side, hips pressed forward at once until he’s buried to the hilt. he catches you completely off guard and you're positive that the way your face contorts is extreme.

with literally anybody else, missionary may have felt mediocre. 

but the weight of anton’s cock had you at a loss for words, forcing your chin toward the ceiling to avoid drool slipping out the sides of your mouth.

“nng—you’re so big, toni!” you moan, reaching out towards the man in front of you.

your grip finds his bicep, crescent moons indented in his skin as evidence of your squeeze. the corners of his lips twitch, but the smirk is wiped from his face in a heartbeat because your cunt continues to smother every sinful inch of him.

“you gotta stop squeezing, baby—fuck,” anton pants, abdomen flexing as you pulse around his rock hard cock. “i can’t move.”

“i’m trying, i swear.” you whine, eyes fluttering and struggling to stay open. “j-just so f-full.” 

you’re cockdrunk.

but it was nothing new, and there was not a lick of humiliation to be felt.

not while you think you can feel the tip of anton’s dick poking at your ribs.

after a few shallow breaths you feel two slender digits heavy and hot on your clit. the pressure loosens your hold on the breach between your legs, allowing anton to continue with slow thrusts.

your pussy is dribbling, the sheets beneath you completely soiled—no thanks to your boyfriend and the pit of your stomach has gone static, every surface of your body tacky with sweat.

when your ankles lock behind anton’s back to force him impossibly closer he let's out a strangled grunt. you can tell he’s straining every muscle in his body, forcing his hip not to snap into you. his jaw is clenched and his fingers dig into the flesh of your thigh so hard that you hiss.

your own hands come up to grasp at the supple flesh of your tits, anton’s eyes are glued to the way you begin to fondle your nipples. his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip like he hasn’t eaten in days and you’re dangling a steak in front of him.

moving your hands out of the way he leans forwards until he’s within tonguing distance.

the first contact between his pout and your nipples has your toes curling until you feel a cramp. each breath you take ends in a whine, back arched towards anton.

“so good to me, ton.” you practically purr, hands cradling the sides of his head. your entire chest vibrates when he hums, biting down. not hard enough to actually hurt but the slight ache causes goosebumps to cover your body in an instant.

anton can tell you’re close when your hips that have been matching each of his thrusts grow sloppy, rhythm lost.

forcing your legs wide he holds you by the calf and places one of your ankles atop his shoulder, taking note of the way the next noise to leave you sounds similar to a sob.

“feels like you’re splitting me in half—goddd!” you whine, cut off by the gasp that rips through your chest when one of anton’s hands skillfully toys with your clit again. it’s gentle, the way his fingers circle and pinch just enough to make you tremble a bit.

it doesn’t take much longer for you to warn the man above you that you’re cumming. 

anton’s right behind you, breathing sporadically as his hips remain slow but less fluid due to each hot spurt of cum that he stuffs right back inside.

you're leaking an awful lot, every foggy through the length of your orgasm. but it's not too loud, you’re not begging him to pull out because it’s too much or clawing up the bed at the burn of overstimulation.

it was just enough.

before anton pulls out he places a kiss on the inside of your ankle that rests on his shoulder right next to his head, then he's lowering your leg until it’s flat against the mattress once again.

your eyes are nearly closed when you feel a pair of lips on yours. you melt into the kiss, a gentle hand holding anton at the side of his face. you’re greedily chasing after his lips when he tries to pull away.

when you finally have the energy you roll onto your side, awaiting anton’s entry into your field of view. your ears are ringing slightly as you lay still, beaming.

“you were right,” anton blurts out bashfully, his ears grow crimson. 

propped up on his elbow and completely facing you now he lifts his hand to your face, thumb carefully tracing the expanse of your cheek. “sorry you had to uh…tell me to slow down—well, for you to enjoy it i mean.”

your eyebrows furrow, chest heavy as you’re filled with admiration for the man in front of you. nudging your cheek further into the palm of his hand you turn your head to plant a peck there.

“don’t be ridiculous, toni.” you rasp, raising your own hand to brush the hair near his eyes away.

“i always enjoy myself,” you scoot closer. “i didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t satisfying me. you satisfy me plenty.” you emphasize the last word with a nudge of his cheek that now rests in your hand.

his massive eyes soften, pools of honey locked on yours. then he nods, lips curling at the sides as he fails to mask his relief at your confession. 

your hand returns to your side and then your head hits the pillow beneath you with a thud as you hold eye contact. now you’re the one grinning, lips parting again and voice no louder than a whisper. 

anton was never really into gaming, but you were able to coerce him into exploring the world of it. 

it happened little by little. whether it was him listening to your infatuation with a new pc game being developed, or him actually playing one. 

of course you essentially begged him to and he insisted you watch the entire time incase he needed any help beyond the instructions shown on the screen.

but truth be told? he naturally had a knack for almost anything. 

in a short amount of time anton became better than you at essentially any and every game you introduced him to. honestly it didn’t even matter if he knew how good he was, you were just pleased to see him enjoying something that you were fond of too.

the problem came when all he wanted to do some days was game. 

you were well off allowing him whatever time he needed to himself, but it slowly became agonizing to watch him sit in front of a screen for hours when you wanted him all to yourself.

now he sits in the same spot as usual, headphones on. the pc screen borderline alarming in brightness as you entered the room to bring him his phone that started ringing in the next room.

when you place it on the desk you linger for a moment, waiting for him to acknowledge you. he nods quickly, turning his head towards you. he flashes a smile, his eyes wrinkling at the sides. then he’s facing the LED screen again. his “thank you” is rushed, faint in volume. you try to fight the roll of your eyes but it’s not like it matters, he wouldn’t have seen you do it anyway.

“anton.” you start. it’s firm, but loud enough to not be muffled by his headphones. you’re biting back annoyance when you have to repeat yourself twice before he acknowledges you.

“yes? what is it, baby? i’m almost finished.” he murmurs. his eyes once again not leaving the screen for too long, but when they do you can see how they soften when he notices your expression.

“you’ve been at it for hours, take a break.” you whine, pacing until you find yourself behind him within arms reach, placing a tender hand on his chest, your other hand on the headrest of the chair.

“i will,” he whispers, turning his head until his lips meet the back of your hand that’s resting on him, “soon! i promise.” 

your heart swells momentarily at his mindless gesture. then you’re shaking your head in annoyance.

glancing over his shoulder your eyes are momentarily on the screen, and you fight the urge to compliment your boyfriend on his gameplay. 

surely he doesn’t need any more reason to keep playing.

then you make the mistake of allowing your eyes to drift down, your attention now on his hands. 

anton’s fingers are long, both his hands take up the entirety of the keyboard. his fingers are diligent in keeping up with what’s happening on screen. veins run from the tips of his digits up to his forearms that also flex with each click of the keyboard. the sight has you absentmindedly pressing your thighs together in an attempt to dull the throbbing between them. 

and he has no fucking clue because he won’t turn away from the screen and pay some attention to you.

you groan, walking around the chair again until you’re facing him, occupying the space between him and the computer desk. 

you don’t miss the way his head tilts to avoid his view being obstructed and you have to swallow the profanity that rests on your tongue.

plopping yourself into his lap, you force his arms further apart to make room for yourself. your legs cage his in, knees digging into the plush seat of the chair beside his hips.

he momentarily pulls one of his hands off the keyboard and it rests on your hip, helping you settle onto him out of habit. 

you can tell that he’s essentially still paying you no mind.

“anton, look at me.” you insist, fully blocking his field of vision now.

he does, taking in your appearance fully for the first time since before he sat in front of the computer. 

you’re wearing his shirt. it drowns your frame due to how you both differ in size and he can’t tell if you’re wearing anything underneath.

not like he’d mind either way.

finally abandoning the game he leans in, lips seeking yours. you turn your head at the last second, pleased with the noise of disappointment that leaves him.

when his plump lips meet your cheek with a soft smack you can feel him smirk against your skin.

“not gonna let me kiss you?” he taunts, his tone twisted as his mouth rests next to your ear 

“mmm, that depends. are you done?” you ask, voice laced with sass, and rightfully so.

instead of answering you he leans in again for the kiss he was denied, this time bringing a hand up to grip your chin ensuring that your lips meet his.

you can’t help but relish in the feeling, body melting into his when your lips lock. he hums, immediately attempting to deepen the kiss but you’re one step ahead and already pulling away. you have to place a hand on his chest to enforce a slight distance between the two of you.

“toni, you didn’t answer my question,” you complain, eyebrows furrowed to mock his expression. “are you done?”

“why, are you upset?” he asks, voice low in volume as his hands run up and down your sides.

“upset? no.” you shake your head, removing his headset and placing it on the desk behind you. anton’s expression softens, you can tell he’s already fixing his lips to apologize.

“i mean, i was upset.” you mock his pout, the corners of your mouth are immediately upturned when you see his expression morph into something similar to regret. 

“you sit in front of a screen all day, i don’t bother you for hours.”

his lips twitch, hands wandering farther down your sides until they’re on your thighs. his thumbs draw circles on the skin right above your knees. but he doesn’t interrupt you.

“when i finally do need some of your attention you barely even look at me.”

it’s your turn to pout.

“let me make it up to you,” anton starts, he’s already using his grip to pull your lower body impossibly closer to his. “whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he hums in agreement, flashing you the same closed lip smile from earlier.

“i want you to watch me.” you murmur, licking your lips in anticipation.

you lean towards him, placing both your hands on his chest that’s firm beneath your palms.

“i’m gonna use you to get off,” you pause, forcing one of his hands that rests on your back into his own lap with a light shove. “you’re gonna sit here like you have been all day. and you’re gonna watch.”

if anton is confused or taken aback by your statement he doesn’t show it.

you lift the hem of your– no, his shirt, dragging it up your body. you can see anton’s eyes follow your ministrations and your chest swells with pride. his head tilts slightly as he continues to follow each of your movements with his big brown eyes.

as more of your skin is exposed you can see the way his eyebrows flutter before they furrow in concentration. 

tucking the hem of the shirt into the bottom of your bra your entire bottom half is left exposed. it’s just your panties that lay beneath and they’re very evidently soiled. the outline of your cunt is puffy and inviting. 

it doesn’t take long for anton’s cock to react, fighting the thin material of his sweatpants.  

when you take his wrist in your hands, his eyes are back on yours.

your tongue juts out wetting your lips as you separate his middle and index finger from the other three digits. when you bring his hand to your mouth he takes his own bottom lip between his teeth. his eyes are low while he watches you intensely, gaze piercing. 

it’s in no real effort to intimidate you. he’s focused. 

when his eyes fall to your lips you feel yourself clenching around nothing. your panties are stuck to you, an unnecessary reminder of just how badly you wanted anton to touch you. 

but you don’t have it in you to feel embarrassed. 

your chest is tight with the urge to prove a point. you feel warmth from the pit of your stomach, up your chest and your neck.

“you know how much i love your fingers, don’t you?” you ask, not waiting for him to respond before you press his digits to your bottom lip and use your tongue to trace the space between them both. 

“fuck–yeah i do,” he groans, hissing when you drag your teeth against the ridges of his knuckles. “baby, your mouth is so pretty.”

“yours too.” 

then you take his fingers in until they’re nearly resting at the back of your tongue. you hum at the weight of his fingers in your mouth. you’re putting on a show now, but you’re enjoying it just as much as he is.

when you gag on anton’s fingers you let any excess spit slip from the corners of your mouth, some running down the length of his wrist.

you can see and hear his breathing pick up, his chest is heaving with each puff of air that he lets out from his flared nostrils. his jaw is clenched in an attempt to calm himself.

it’s not working.

you pull his hand away from your lips with a pop. you can’t help but admire how they glisten in the low light of your bedroom.

then you’re dragging the same two fingers that were just in your mouth down the expanse of your now exposed stomach. 

you intentionally go slow, your own breaths now labored as goosebumps kiss the skin that becomes saturated with your own saliva in the wake of anton’s fingers. when you guide his hand further towards your heat you force his fingers into the waistband of your panties, stopping at the space where your hip meets your thigh. his breath hitches with yours simultaneously. 

“kiss me.” you whisper, not missing the way your boyfriend’s lips twitch. 

he attempts to lean towards your face but you use your free hand to stop him, playing with the curls near his ear out of habit. you then force his head downwards until his eyes are met with your chest.

you feel a hot stream of air on your skin as a disgruntled noise escapes from the back of his throat.

his lips are stout and hot when pressed against the skin right beneath the hem of your shirt that’s lifted. he stays in that spot, placing another kiss there this time more open mouthed. you sigh, allowing your head to dip slightly while you watch his display of compliance. then he’s kissing at your ribs, his nose nudging you as his lips travel the expanse of your abdomen.

he kisses your side, his tongue peaking out from between his lips causing you to whine at the sensation. 

your grip on his wrist tightens and you finally drag his hand towards your cunt, the tips of his damp fingers kiss your folds and you have to force yourself not to fold in half at the slight sense of relief.

anton uses the back of his fingers to tap your clit and you flinch due to the sensitivity.

“d-don’t.” you whimper, taking control again and rolling your hips forward.

“just wanna please my baby.” he utters, his words muffled by your flesh as he starts tonguing at the skin on your neck. “that’s what you wanted, yeah?”

“let me do it.” your tone is firm, but you’re fooling nobody with how hard you’re panting. 

slowing the roll of your hips you force yourself up into your knees until anton’s fingers are just below your fluttering hole.

you use your free hand, doing the best you can to force anton’s back against the chair once again. before he can muster any form of protest you sink down onto his fingers.

“oh my god–anton!” you whine, immediately clenching around his lengthy digits. you have to hold onto one of his shoulders for leverage, your nails dig inwards.

he hisses, his head lulling backwards for a split second. you’re treating him a bit like a rag doll but clearly it’s of no real issue to the man under you. 

between his legs the outline of his hardness is perfectly visible. the tip begins to leak, dampening the other cotton barrier that’s between you both. your mouth waters at the mental image of bouncing on his cock instead.

you circle your hips, forcing your clit against the heel of his palm, your shoulders shudder with pleasure. 

“that’s it, take what you want.” anton edges you on, partially because he knows how badly you need this and partially because of how bad he needs it. 

the strain in his pants is borderline painful, he thinks he might cum just watching you use him. 

it was so lewd. the squelching of your pussy around his fingers, the same fingers that were in your mouth a short moment ago. they’re now slick with you as you’re clenching around him with each upwards thrust of his digits inside.

your mouth agape in pleasure, the noises you’re making just as pretty as the rest of you.

you lift yourself until just the tips of his fingers are inside of you, then you descend again. 

you choke on a whimper, biting down on your bottom lip so hard you can’t tell if you taste blood or if you’re imagining it. 

you set a manageable pace, your mind cloudy as you’re already chasing your release.

“toni, i need–” the words die on your tongue, a gasp yanked from your chest as anton curls both his fingers upwards, punching that familiar gummy spot inside. he repeats the same action again, this time you yelp.

“what do you need? what is it, baby?” he shushes you, cooing when your eyes shoot open now flooded with tears.

you’re teetering on the brink of your first orgasm of the night, your chest burns and you’re struggling to continue riding your boyfriend's fingers. if you were any more sentient you’d feel a tinge of shame, but there’s no room for that.

reaching down with a shaky hand you do your best to rub your clit, sighing when anton smacks your hand out of the way to replace it with his own.

“fuck, you’re so mean to me” you manage to get out, your voice is airy.

“i know, princess. so so mean.” anton mocks, you can hear the smirk in his voice but the burn of his fingers is too intoxicating for you to actually give a fuck. “so mean that i’m letting you make a mess in my lap while you bounce on my fingers like a fucking bunny.” he teases, the fingers that fill you curling again until they’re pointing right back at him.

“you’re so messy–fuck, my messy baby.” he groans, watching your hips stutter. "but…you always have to get your way, isn't that right?"

your legs are on fire, the pit of your stomach molten as well. 

“you like me like this.” you whine, the tears that were welling in your eyes finally painting your cheeks, cascading down your temples when your head falls back between your shoulders momentarily.

the next time anton uses his fingers to simulate beckoning you closer, your enter body is forced upright, you can feel your toes curl behind you and your eyes are painfully squeezed shut.

your mouth forms an “o” and you can’t tell if you’re crying out or if the noise gets caught in your throat. 

“hnng!”

you feel a hot gush from between your legs and a sputter can be heard below you.

anton’s eyes fall onto the space in his lap right in front of you, the material of his pants and the bottom of his shirt now darkened with scattered wetness.

“shit, baby.”

he made you squirt.

his fingers are still inside of you and surprisingly your hips don’t stop moving. reaching out toward him to support your body you lean away from the desk behind you, your hand reaching down to force him to keep his fingers inside but insisting they still.

your head meets his shoulder with a soft thud, that part of his shirt now soaked too but with the tears that had finally begun to cascade down the apples of your cheeks.

the next two minutes aren’t something you could recall even if you tried, but when you pry your eyes open you feel your chest start to rise and fall slower and slower each time. you’re picking out objects within your sight to help ground you, anton’s hand that’s not between your legs is heavy as it runs up and down the length of your spine. 

you do your best to make out what he’s telling you—how that was the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, that you did so good for him. the corners of your lips tremble when you try to grin.

you feel his fingers scissor inside of and you mewl, forcing your hips up until his hand falls back into his lap. you bite down on his shoulder, satisfied with the groan that he lets out before his laughter vibrates both your chest and his.

you lift your head away from him with the little energy you have left, you own hands resting on your bare thighs. that seems to be the only place your eyes can focus, until you feel a calloused hand beneath your chin forcing your heavy head upwards. 

you’re the one to break the silence between the both of you. your voice is hoarse and low in volume.

“i’ve never done that before.” you whisper, throwing your head back in embarrassment, attempting to escape the weight of his stare.

anton plants a kiss on your neck, humming in what you’d assume is in acknowledgment. but you can feel the way his lips curl against your skin.

it was stupid how good anton looked. like ridiculously stupid.

his hair was messy from the way the wind picked up on his walk home, skin just barely showing a sheen of sweat. 

when you greet him he meets you halfway, placing the sweetest kiss on your lips, muttering how he’d missed you into the space created when you pull away.

you wanted him right then and there. 

but you didn’t tell him that. 

being the great girlfriend you are, you let him shower and continue on with the rest of his day.

you both had dinner, talked about how exhausting the week was. then he helped you wash the dishes and you sat together in bed watching tv.

you tried really hard. 

you tried to ignore the throbbing between your legs, but it wouldn’t dull. every time you turned to the side and caught a glimpse of your boyfriend it only got worse. 

the way the light from the tv casted a reflection, the light bouncing off his nose. the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. the heat radiating off of his hand that’s resting on your hip as you sit beside him.

you felt insatiable.

your eyes drift towards his mouth. you notice how his bottom lip is glistening, because he’d absentmindedly wet it with his tongue. 

he can feel you staring and it’s evident in the way he’s fighting the smirk off his face. you’re inadvertently coy at first and he thinks you’re adorable.

but he knows what you want. 

his hand, warm and now on the bare skin of your leg is inviting. then he’s turning your body towards his completely, your knees pressed against the side of his thigh. 

“baby, you know you don’t have to keep staring at me like a piece of meat. if you need something just ask.”

you don’t even get the chance to say anything back. his hands move to your hips, they’re firm and calloused on the skin that’s exposed from your tank top riding up. 

anton tugs once, and then you’re mounting him completely. when your knees meet the bed beside both his hips he doesn’t give you the option to hover, forcing your hips down. 

he leans in, pecking you on the lips once and pulling away before you can go back for more.

“antonnnn!” you whine, rolling your eyes because you know he can feel how wet you are, the only thing separating the flesh of your cunt from his cock being underwear on your part, a pair of sweats for him.

his eyes go wide momentarily, not in genuine shock, but to tease you. you don’t give him the time to say anything because your lips are already back on his. 

despite your need, the kiss isn’t rushed. you want him to feel just how badly you need him. 

when your tongue meets his you can’t help but whine into his mouth, he just kisses back harder, tilting his head to take complete control. you feel his same smirk from earlier against your lips but you can’t even pretend like you care.

your hands move from their place on his shoulders to grab his hands. they’re still anchored to your hips that have slowly started to grind down onto anton’s hardening cock, his groans were all the indication you needed to keep going.

you guide his hands to your ass and he's using the grip as leverage, pressing you onto him harder.

when anton pulls away, he’s groaning and whispering out a “fuck” onto your swollen lips that now are covered in a sheen of saliva.

“are you gonna keep rutting against me until you cream your panties, or are you gonna tell me what you really want?”

then you feel the crack of his massive hand against the skin of your ass cheek. your head is thrown back, a whimper ripped from your throat.

“talk to me, pretty,” he utters, leaning in and peppering wet kisses on the exposed skin of your chest. “what do you need?” he asks, lips hot against your neck before he moves to mouth at the skin beneath your ear.

your hips don’t halt, but they slow. an attempt to ground yourself so you can speak properly.

“you know i’ll do anything for you,” he said, voice gentle. “how do you want it, princess?”

“i need ride you, so badly.” 

you don’t even register that by the time you’re done talking he’s pulled away and opted to lean against the headboard.

now your hips still.

“yeah? go on then.” he taunts, head nodding towards his lower half.

you don’t know if he expects you to bend down until you’re eye level with his bulge, but his facial expression doesn’t show any sign of protest. 

lowering the waistband of both his pants and his underwear at once, you feel your mouth involuntarily watering. 

he’s big, but that’s news to neither of you. it’s just not something you get used to. 

the tip is pink and leaking when you lay eyes on it for the first time tonight. eager to feel the weight of him in your mouth you place a kiss on the bead of precum that rests on the underside of the tip, your tongue sneaks out to taste.

“fuck, i love your mouth” anton praises, “so much.” one of his hands abandons its spot on the mattress to cradle the side of your face.

you hold eye contact with him before finally taking him between your lips. he bites his tongue in an attempt to muffle the noise that jumps from the back of his throat.

you know you can’t fit his entire length in your mouth and he would commend you regardless of if you could take all of him or not, but you’d probably die trying.

when you gag around him his eyes flutter shut, his head lulls to the side and meets his shoulder with a soft thud.

“you’re so pretty like this baby. wish i could take a picture of you, frame it.” he pants, eyes heavy and glossed over. 

as you lay between his legs you’re in just a tank top and panties, neither of which are the most flattering they could be, but that doesn’t matter to anton. 

your ponytail sways with the bobbing of your head and he can see your ass perched up behind you due to how your back is arched.

he thinks he might cum from just this visual.

you hum in response to his praise, forcing the next bit of his cock into your mouth. one of your hands occupying the last inch or two that wouldn’t fit.

you swallow hard around him moaning when he accidentally thrusts upwards. you gag around him again and you hear his head hit the headboard, a whimper caught in his throat.

you pull off to catch your breath but your hands don’t leave him, they just grip tighter. you can see the way his adams apple bobs while he swallows.  

“anton, you have the prettiest cock i’ve ever seen.” you praise, voice hoarse.

your free hand pushes the hem of his shirt up until you can see the toned skin of his abdomen.

“all of you is pretty actually.” you admit, punctuating your statement by gathering the spit in your mouth and forcing it out from your puckering lips until it falls back onto the head of anton’s cock.

then your mouth engulfs him again, everything more intense. 

you’re moaning at the taste of him in your mouth, eyes shut in bliss. the weight of him on your tongue is intoxicating. 

when you suck particularly hard, the hand that held your face originally moves to grip onto your ponytail. he tugs and you whimper around his cock. the vibrations too much for him, you can tell by the way his chest starts to rise and fall rapidly.

“close, baby i’m so close.” he moans, eyebrows furrowed when you catch sight of his face again.

“so good to me, princess, you're so good. my messy baby,” he throws his head back again, the next part of his sentence faint in volume but it doesn’t miss your ears, “it’s like you were meant for my cock.”

there's a scorching gush between your legs while you attempt to nod in agreement, but you know it doesn’t matter.

bobbing along the length of his cock, you know he’ll cum any second. then you allow your teeth to just barely graze his tip and he’s a mess. he tries to control the bucking of his hips but it’s no use.

and he knows you can take it.

he lets out a whimper, sweet when it hits your eardrums. that’s then followed by your name and several hot spurts of his cum gliding down the back of your throat. 

he’s on the brink of overstimulation but you stay right where you are, eyes closed while you focus on swallowing everything he’d given you.

you pull off of him with a soft popping noise and he’s a panting mess, but you know he’s nowhere near done.

you’re up on your knees in front of him and he notices that a few drops of his cum managed to slip through your lips and down your chin. 

his thumb gathers the remnants before pressing on your bottom lip until you drop your jaw slightly and take the digit into your mouth. you suck slow, your eyes never leaving his. you can’t even tell if you’ve licked his thumb clean but you don’t care.

anton forces his thumb out of your mouth, blood rushing to his dick again at sight of your lips looking so overused.

“i was meant for your cock, by the way.” you whisper, not missing the way he grins in amusement before reaching out to pull you back atop his lap.

“damn right.” he responds, lips near your ear. 

he’s kissing up your neck and you feel one of his strong hands just above the hem of your panties.

the same pair that are now completely ruined because you couldn't stop the flow of arousal that came with giving him head.

“anton, i need you inside of me.”

your voice is tired, you know you’re whining but you don’t mind, and you know your boyfriend doesn’t either. 

“babe, NOW p-please!” you lower your voice and immediately stutter when you feel his fingers sneak inside the waistband of your panties, pulling at the elastic until it snaps back into place. you hiss when the sting bites your skin, anton kisses your chin as a silent apology.

“are you sure? you know i–”

“if your cock isn’t inside of me soon i think i’ll cry.” you interrupt.

he doesn’t hesitate to pull you taut to him, grip so tight that you can see the veins in his hands and forearms straining against his flesh. your chest is flush against his and of course he’s hard again.

you can feel the weight of him against your thigh, but you can’t focus on that because the same hand that was teasing you before pulls the crotch of your panties to the side. his knuckles brush your clit and you’re shuddering with want.

anton pulls you in for your umpteenth kiss tonight, and it’s slow but it’s wet. the sounds that both of your lips are making echo against the four walls of the room. 

the kiss successfully acts as a distraction while he pumps himself a few times before pressing the blunt head of his cock to your entrance. you break the kiss, a short desperate huff from your lips meeting his ears with ease.

both his hands find your waist again, then he’s guiding you onto him. 

the first breach of him inside you feels like too much and not enough all at once, you'd be damned to stop. 

he’s fucking huge, but the burn is so addicting and soon it won’t even matter. he’ll have to pry your pussy off of him.

your mind is flooded when you finally have taken the entirety of anton. you think you can feel him in your chest as you choke on whatever sound managed to escape your mouth. your ass is flush against his thighs and you get a minute to adjust.

then you feel anton grab your chin forcing it down to meet your chest, his eyes already on yours. 

“are you gonna move or do i have to do all the work?” 

he’s taunting you. he’d never truly rush you when it came to any of this but it was fun to watch the fire ignite behind your eyes in determination. 

his hand falls from your chin and joins the other on your hips again. you can feel the expanse of your entire back covered by his hold on you. heat travels along your entire essence as you force your hips to circle in his lap.

forcing yourself to rise onto your knees until just the tip is inside of you, you take a shallow breath before lowering onto him completely. 

he lets out a noise of satisfaction, whatever else he says falls on deaf ears. the feeling of being split in half by him is ecstasy, the moans you’re producing are borderline pornographic. 

you manage a steady rhythm that satisfies the both of you, the only thing besides the slapping of skin that can be heard is the combination of your whining. both yours and anton’s.

you feel him forcing the front of your top down below your tits, he’s fast. eager. 

his mouth is immediately glued to one of your nipples, his tongue circles the bud languidly before switching sides. goosebumps contaminate your skin when the air of the room contrasts the warmth of his mouth.

he bites down gently and your back arches closer to him out of habit, your hips stutter when you feel two of his slender digits between the two of you, swiping against your swollen clit. 

“fuck me, you feel so good anton.” you mewl, your hands clasped at the back of his neck holding him impossibly closer.

then he pulls back from your tits, reluctant but possessed by the urge to push you just a bit further. 

“fuck you?” 

when says that you hear him, but you can barely process it. being on his cock rendering you useless. featherbrained.

but that’s exactly how he wanted you.

planting his feet behind you he’s now meeting you halfway with upwards thrusts. the noise that you make is similar to a sob. 

anton’s just watching the way your face contorts in pleasure, his own mouth agape as he focuses on matching your pace. then his eyes fall to your tits, the way they bounce in rhythm with of the both of you is palatable.

you have no idea how he’s staring daggers through you, your eyes have been on and off screwed shut since you started to bounce like a maniac on the man beneath you.

him being this deep inside of you felt so good that it almost pained you to feel your orgasm approaching.

glancing down for a split second you place a hand on your lower belly and you can feel just now much of your core he’s devouring as he pistons into your cunt.

you hear how wet you are before you feel it. a squelch lingering every single time his muscled thighs meet the plushness of yours.

replacing his hand on your clit with your own you clench around him, tears painfully prickling in your eyes as your vision goes blurry.

“you gonna milk my cock? i can feel it, baby give it to me cmon” anton pants, not anticipating a response from you but wanting you to know that he was reaching that point.

“anton, oh my god!” you yelp, not knowing what to grab onto and opting to place your free hand atop his that rests on you.

“go head, pretty” anton whispers.

you pant, throat dry and lips raw. and your voice acts before your brain does.

“please, cum inside of me.”

then your walls are clenching around him so hard that his hips stutter one last time before he’s doing exactly what you asked. 

when you finish there’s fever from your head to your toes, sweat clings to your limbs, eyes wet with tears that never fell.

you peek down at anton and he’s already looking at you, he gestures for you to lay on him. you don’t need any convincing to oblige, immediately collapsing on his chest.

you can feel the thud of his heartbeat beneath your cheek, his hands, tender, caressing your back. he's tracing his name in the clammy divot of your lower back.

he’s gone soft inside of you by the time both of your breathing returns to normal,  but you don’t make the move to disconnect yourself from him yet.

it's you that breaks the silence with a sigh, the sound soft and you know he can tell it’s you indicating that you’re satisfied.

you pull you head away from his chest and bring your hands up to rest your chin on them. angling your neck so that you capture anton’s lips in a peck so sweet that it’s toothaching, you’re both beaming.

“you’re so cute when you’re like this. so needy, i mean. just my needy baby.” his voice is low and he’s giggling between the next few kisses he plants on you, not missing the way you scoff and use his shoulder as a shield from the teasing.

“you’re just as bad.” you mumble, already craning your neck and puckering your lips again.

he doesn’t argue, because it’s true and it doesn’t bother him. there’s no shame in needing you just as badly as you need him.

omg! you made it to the end