#pierced babe

“You’re not fucking him again, are you?” Michelle, your only non-momfriend leaned against the counter. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you retorted, bending down to get a better look at the brownies in the oven. 

Michelle huffed. “I’m only saying … you’re making a lot of excuses for absent father behaviour. The only thing I can think of that could cause that kind of amnesia is dick.”

You motioned for her to step aside as you opened the oven door, took out the tray and placed it on the counter. “When these cool, try them for taste, will you?” 

“Don’t try to change the subject. I’ll gladly remind you of you ugly crying in my apartment when that Ada girl picked up his phone in the middle of the night.”

You sighed. “Michelle, I’m not fucking him again. In fact, I’m not fucking anyone. And especially not at my daughter’s seventh birthday party.” 

She narrowed her eyes on you. “Show me your bra.” 

“What?” 

“If you’re not trying to fuck him, why are you wearing a matching set? I saw your thong when you bent over to take the brownies out.” 

“Michelle,” you squealed and pulled your jeans up by the belt hoops. 

She chuckled. “Only messing with you.” She tentatively dabbed a finger on one of the brownies to check the consistency. “Very suspicious reaction though, I gotta say.” 

You grimaced. You better not tell her you also shaved your entire body last night. Not for Leon obviously. Just in case some attractive dad showed their face or something and you wanted to feel confident. Or who were you kidding? You wanted to feel confident in your own skin in order to deal with the other parents. You hadn’t seen a hot single dad in a long time. And even if you did, they didn’t have any time either. 

Meeting someone and getting laid as a single parent was no easy feat. You simply had no time to date and no interest to open up your life enough to let anyone in properly. Besides Lottie, there was no room for anyone taking up your time. Even for casual sex, you needed to organise a babysitter. Most men just weren’t worth the effort. But you and Michelle both agreed you deserved some fun encounters every once in a while. 

“How many grams did you put in these?” 

You blinked. “What?” 

Michelle inspected the brownies, deadpan. 

“It’s my daughter’s birthday party, I did not bake space brownies.” 

“But wouldn’t it be so funny if you did?” She shot you a grin and you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“The kids aren’t even the problem, the other moms however,” you blew out a breath. 

“Here.” Michelle handed you a cup of coffee. “And fuck them, you do everthing for your daughter. You even baked her brownies from scratch because she requested them,” your friend replied, using her hands to fan said brownies as if that would make them cool quicker. 

“Show me one of those suburban bitches who could handle being a single mom, hm?” 

You sighed, tentatively taking a sip of coffee and leaning back against the counter. “I feel like I’m never doing enough, you know?”

She gently touched your shoulder, but her gaze was stern. “Which brings me back to Leon needing to step the fuck up.”

You ran a finger along the rim of the cup. “It’s complicated, you know that.” 

Michelle shook her head in annoyance. “There’s nothing complicated about being a little more involved in the ballet recitals and parent-teacher meetings. You work shifts at the diner and still get it all done.” 

“I take Lottie with me sometimes. It’s not like he can do that,” you said.

Michelle lifted her cup to her full lips. “Please, he’s a cop, not some kind of government special agent working in bioweapons or something.” 

You choked on your coffee, coughing and gasping for air. You had never told Michelle anything. Leon’s job was highly confidential. The fact that she had just casually hit bull’s eye caught you off guard. 

While you were battling asphyxiation, she checked her watch. 

“What time is he showing up anyway?” You avoided her gaze. He was Lottie’s dad. Granted, he hadn’t been an angel and there were a bunch of reasons you two had called it quits, but neither of you had planned to have a baby at twenty-one either.  Just like Leon hadn’t planned on showing up to his first day of work the night after you had told him you were pregnant and the world quite literally ending. Just like you hadn’t planned on the father of your child being force recruited into a top secret government programme right after you had given birth. 

It was all a little much to go through while your frontal lobe wasn’t fully developed yet. And neither of you knew even the first thing about being healthy partners for each other. 

“You’re making excuses for him in your head again, aren’t you?” Michelle’s voice cut through your thoughts like a knife. 

You opened your mouth to retort something but the doorbell rang and you raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s probably him.” 

You glanced outside, hoping to see Leon’s car in your driveway, even just to prove your point. Instead, you saw your daughter’s friend Brinleigh-Mae and her god awful mother. The first guests of the afternoon. “Shit,” you cursed and Michelle craned her neck to see who it was. 

“Where do you keep your whiskey?” she mouthed and pointed her chin at your coffee cup, as she took it out of your hands. “I’ll make us some Irish coffees.”  You shook your head no and walked up to the door, but not missing the casual shrug Michelle did before tiptoeing to one of your cabinets. 

Brinleigh’s mother greeted you with the fakest smile you had ever seen. “Where’s the birthday girl?” 

You smiled back, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “She’s upstairs. You’re a little early,” you said. “Hi Brinleigh.”

The mom pushed her child forward into your house, her floral perfume wafting over you. “We were hoping to finally meet Mr. Kennedy. Lottie has been talking about him non stop the past few days.” 

You pursed your lips, cheeks growing hot. “He’s not here.” You cleared your throat. “Yet.” 

“I am,” you heard Leon’s voice coming from further up the driveway. He had just gotten out of his car, carrying a giant present for Lottie. “Sorry, I’m late. I’m so jetlagged.” The timbre of his voice made your stomach flutter. Fuck. Shit. Fuck, shit, fuck, god, fuck. How sex-starved were you that all of a sudden your ex started to sound delicious again? He looked delicious, too. 

To your horror, he pressed a feather light kiss to your temple and you caught Michelle watching you both through the kitchen window. You squeezed your lips together, hands hanging by your side because if you lifted them and returned his hug, you would come dangerously close to his bicep. 

Michelle held up the coffee cup and a bottle of liquor, nodding. “I got you,” she mouthed and you sent a small express prayer upstairs to live through this kids birthday party unscathed. 

Much to your surprise, you actually made it to the end of the night alive. And much to Michelle’s dismay, Leon did really step up today and took the lead in pretty much everything. He apologised for showing up late and promised you he'd take over from here so you could just sit back and enjoy spending Lottie’s seventh birthday with her. After all the presents had been opened and nearly all of the brownies were gone, Lottie insisted on being carried to bed. Leon would never deny his daughter a single wish and lifted her up in one smooth motion, her hands locked tight around his neck. The sight of it pulled on your heartstrings---and your ovaries.

You frantically searched for Michelle’s eyes, but she just slapped her thighs and murmured, “Well, time for me to go.” 

“Wait,” you reached out an arm toward her like Lottie had reached out for Leon earlier. 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Michelle whispered before slipping into her coat and boots. 

“That doesn’t help,” you hissed, but she just shrugged and pulled the door shut behind her. You rubbed your temples and your gaze fell onto the whiskey Michelle had brought out to spice up your coffees. You hadn’t had any, of course. But all the kids were gone now, so you figured why not? You changed into your pyjamas, put your hair up in a messy bun and poured yourself a glass, leaving all the paper plates and food scraps for tomorrow morning. You were absolutely wrecked. Hanging out with a whole bunch of seven year olds running a muck in your house and trying to keep them all alive—no matter how present Leon was in all this—was no joke. 

“She’s out,” Leon murmured, closing the door to the hallway. 

“Fancy a drink?” 

He looked at you, eyes snagging on the way your boy shorts barely contained the curve of your ass. “Sure.” 

You poured him a glass too and sat down on the couch, patting the seat next to you. “You did great today.” 

You felt the couch dip beside you. “Don’t lie. I was so late.” He threw back his drink in one go. “I want to do better. I know I haven’t shown up for Lottie as much as I should have. I didn’t even know she’s been having all those ballet recitals.” 

You grimaced, but didn’t say anything. He figured it out himself, good. 

“So you can stop punishing me now.” 

“Punish you?” your brows shot up and your head whipped around to him. 

“You’re wearing the same shirt you broke up with me in. Which is also my shirt. The irony isn’t lost on me.” 

“I—,” you lifted up the hem of your shirt a little, barely exposing a sliver of skin above your belly button. You hadn’t even realised what you were wearing. Or had been wearing to bed almost every night, your favourite pyjama combo. It was his. Oh hell no.

Leon drew in a sharp breath. Was he…? No, surely not. For all you knew he was having a weird on and off again fling with that Ada girl. 

“I can take it off, if it bothers you,” you murmured, taking a sip from your drink. 

“God, no,” Leon cut in, frantically and you looked at him. His eyes flicked to your chest for only a split second, but you saw it clear as day. You rolled your shoulders back a little, lifting up your boobs with the barely detectable movement. 

“Are you—did you—” Leon furrowed his brows, leaning forward, staring shamelessly at your tits. “Did you get your nipples pierced?” 

You huffed out a laugh. “Oh those? Yeah, Michelle’s idea.” 

It was the whiskey for sure. Because nowhere near in your sober mind would you ever do what you were about to do next. You pulled the shirt over your head, exposing your pierced tits to Leon, the waft of cold air making your nipples harden. 

Leon licked his lips. “Interesting.” He peeled his gaze away. “I uh, I should probably leave.” He shifted on the couch. 

“Okay,” you whispered, your cheeks hot with embarrassment. Had you actually just shown Leon of all people your pierced nipples when he didn’t even ask? You slung your arms around your chest, waiting for Leon to get up and leg it. 

But he didn’t. His mouth opened and closed like he didn’t know what to say, all while his hands were awkwardly propped up either side of his thighs. Your gaze fell onto the prominent bulge in his pants. Oh. 

You let your arms fall to your sides, casually leaning back on your elbows. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. You didn’t think Michelle meant Leon, but sure who cared about the fine print? Fuck it. In fact, fuck him. You deserved a little bit of fun. Who was taking care of Lottie? Putting food on the table, driving her to ballet twice a week? You deserved a reward. 

When Leon didn’t look, you got up and casually took his glass. “Another one?” 

He lifted his head, coming face to face with your chest. “Or do you want to keep pretending like we’re not both not thinking about screwing each other’s brains out right now? Your choice.” That was all Leon needed. 

His  hands pulled at the back of your thighs and you collapsed into his lap with a yelp. His mouth was on your tits instantly, sucking your nipple and the cold metal between his lips. “Why do they taste like house keys?” 

“Because you’re home, baby,” you whispered and gasped when he trailed kisses up your neck and crashed your lips to his. You couldn’t believe you were kissing Leon like that, all needy and pathetic. Panting and rubbing up against him like a sex-crazed whore. But he was just as bad as you, pressing his rock hard cock into you, the fabric of your boy short barely numbing any sensation. 

“Leon, we shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered, as he grabbed a fistful of your ass and bucked up against you. 

“Tell me no and I’ll stop,” he breathed, but you didn’t tell him to stop. Instead you rubbed your pussy up against the seam of his jeans, desperate for the friction of it. Ever the attentive lover, Leon noticed instantly and slipped one hand between you, groaning when he felt the slick wetness seeping through the fabric of your shorts. 

“We’ll do this just this once,” he whispered, fingers dipping beneath your waistband. “Just for me to apologise and—fuck.” A finger slipped into you to the knuckle like it was nothing. “You’re so wet.” He started curling his finger inside your walls, his thumb gently pressing against your clit. Your back arched, pressing your pierced tits into his face. 

“Lottie,” you hissed. “What if she comes in?” 

Leon groaned into your chest, slipping his hands out between your legs and you squirmed at the loss. He hooked his arms under your legs and lifted you off the couch. Without even looking where he was going, he kept kissing you like his life depended on it, as he carried you to your bedroom. He still knew his way around. Of course. This used to be his house, too. 

He locked the door and you fumbled for his belt, popping open the button on his pants. He set you down and slipped his shirt over his head, revealing the muscled plains of his stomach rippling under smooth skin. You reached out for the scar right under his ribcage and he shivered at the touch. The next kiss was sweeter, softer and he rested his head against yours, as he watched you push his pants over his hips. 

“I missed you,” he breathed, eyes locked to yours. 

“Don’t,” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut as you pushed his boxers down, too. “Just fuck me, Leon, please.” 

His cock sprang free, the heavy length of it hitting your belly. Leon quite possibly had the prettiest cock you had ever seen. Long and thick, slightly curved at the tip that was already glistening for you. Your mouth watered at the sheer sight of him. You wanted to kiss it, lick it, taste it. Dropping to your knees, you pulled his hips forward, looking up at him as your lips barely ghosted over the tip. 

Leon stared at you, brows drawn together in helpless arousal, full lips parted. “Fuck,” he exhaled shakily and your tongue darted forward, giggling at the moan that elicited from him. He tasted salty and like soft skin that was begging for your touch, stretched over hard flesh. You tentatively licked up the seam on the head of his cock and Leon’s head fell back and his hips pushed forward, desperate for you to take him into your mouth. 

You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “Be a good boy for me and stay in place.”

Leon whined and covered his face with his arm. “Lick it, suck it, fucking do something.” 

“Ah, ah, ah,” you scolded him again. “Be nice.”

“Please, suck me off, ah—” he pleaded and you finally licked in one broad stroke over his tip, closed your lips around him and sucked him in, hollowing out your cheeks. His desperate groan went straight between your legs, and you hummed in response, the vibration drawing a whimper from Leon. A hand threaded into your hair, removing the hair tie and gathering it up at the back of your head by himself. You pushed forward, taking him deeper, until the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and saliva ran down either side of it. You gagged and came back up for air, a string of spit connecting your lips to your favourite toy. 

Leon cursed and his eyes found yours, realigning his cock with your mouth and pushing in slowly. You sucked at it, gliding up and down his thick length, never breaking eye contact. Leon’s eyes glazed over and his lips twitched, a loud moan falling from his lips as you sank down again, throat bobbing around him. 

“Ah fuck, oh fuck, holy shit,” he whined, pulling you off him by your hair, releasing him with a lewd popping sound. 

He didn’t say a word before he manhandled you onto the bed, pressing his hips flush into yours. 

“Do you have protection?” he breathed heavily, one arm caging you in, the other pinching your pierced nipple. You pressed your eyes shut, at the sensation and at the realisation you had absolutely no condoms in your house whatsoever. You shook your head, squirming underneath him and rubbing your slick folds against his cock.

Leon swallowed, aligning himself with your entrance, circling your clit with his other hand. “It’s fine, I’ll pull out,” he panted. 

It wasn’t fine. That’s how you had ended up with Lottie in the first place. But you were too far gone to be burdened with reason now. 

He pushed in and you whined at the delicious stretch, clawing at his shoulders, leaving little half-moon indents in his smooth skin. 

“Fuck, Leon, you feel so good,” you moaned, as he started moving, pushing in a little deeper at every thrust. “You’re so big.” Your lips fell open in a perfect ‘o’ shape and you closed your legs around his waist. 

“I’m only giving you half, baby,” he chuckled, snapping his hips into yours and pushing in all the way in one punishing stroke. Your eyes fell open and you held onto him for dear life, as he knocked the breath out of your lungs. 

“Can you still handle all of it?” he whispered in your ear, pulling out to the tip. You nodded forehead resting against his shoulder. 

“Yes, Leon, yes.” 

“Say my name like that again,” he ordered, pushing back in and you cried out, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. 

“I love it when you say my name like that.” He drew in a sharp breath, looking between you, at where you were joined, obscene squelching sounds and skin slapping against skin filling the bedroom. 

“Leon,” you moaned and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, squeezing his eyes shut to not spill into you right then and there. Your pussy clenched around him and he pulled out, his breathing ragged. 

You mewled at the loss, but didn’t have time to grieve long, as Leon was moving down your body, throwing your legs over his shoulders and replacing his cock with his mouth, sucking your clit until you cried out, arching off the bed. He lapped up your juices like he was starving for it, starving for you, tongue playing with your clit, sucking it into his mouth, pushing his tongue into your pussy and groaning into you when he felt you ripple. 

You wanted to say real words, you did. You wanted to praise him, tell him how good he was, how close you were to coming all over his pretty face, but all you could do was moan and writhe like the cockdrunk slut you were. 

“Come for me, baby,” Leon groaned, adding two fingers and fucking you with both his hands and his mouth. 

Your moans became high pitched and you shook your head in disbelief at the intensity with which you could feel your orgasm building.  

“Leon, oh my god, oh my god.” You cried out, thighs clamping around Leon’s head, locking him in like a vice. Release crashed over you like a tidal wave, leaving nothing and no one in its wake. 

“That’s it, baby, fuck yeah,” Leon moaned, licking you through every wave of your orgasm. You barely had regained your bearings, when Leon flipped you over, gravity making you sink down on his cock. 

“Ride me,” he panted, “fuck yourself on my cock.” 

And you did, taking him deep enough to hit your cervix at every stroke, tits bouncing in rhythm with your movements. 

“I missed you, so fucking much,” you whimpered, reaching down to prop yourself up on Leon’s pecs, bouncing on his cock. 

A smile spread across his lips, quickly wiped out by his entire face contorting in pleasure. You felt him twitch inside of you and you picked up your pace, Leon’s moans urging you on. You loved that he had never been quiet in bed. Leon was very vocal, always had been. You loved that he let you know exactly how good you made him feel, every desperate whimper falling from his lips a praise for how well you were doing. 

Leon propped himself up against the headboard, slinging his arms around you, pulling you closer. “Grab the headboard,” he ordered, the words having a hard time slipping past his lips. He was so close. 

You did as you were told, using the wooden headboard as leverage to fuck him harder, his hips meeting you at every thrust. 

“Oh fuck.” His voice broke and his head fell forward, sucking one of your pierced nipples into his mouth. “Give me one more, baby, please, come with me.” His hand found your clit again, coaxing pathetic little whimpers from you somewhere between overstimulation and pure bliss. Your velvet walls pulsed around him again and your pace faltered, but Leon grabbed a handful of your ass and forced you to keep going. 

You let go of the headboard and grabbed his head, forcing him to look at you. Neither of you said a thing. You could see the climax in each other’s eyes and for a split second the whole world stopped moving. Before your hips snapped back together and tipped you over the edge. Leon desperately pulled you into him, a string of the most obscene moans tearing from his lips. You pulsed around him as he shot his load into you—pulling out be damned—painting your inner walls with his seed like fucking Picasso. 

“Oh god, Leon,” you panted as you came down, still feeling him twitch inside of you. “Oh fuck, ah.” 

You swallowed, mouth dry. Leon leaned back against the headboard, pulling you with him, cradling your head to his chest, whole body moving in sync with his heavy breaths. 

“Apology accepted,” you murmured, smacking your lips when you almost caught yourself drooling. 

“What?” 

“You said we’d do this once, for you to apologise. I accept.” 

Leon’s chest vibrated underneath you. “I don’t even—” He stopped himself. “I’m glad.” 

“This was so stupid. I’ll get Plan B in the morning.” You pushed yourself off his chest, gently climbing off him, biting your lip when he slipped out of you and pulled out a glob of cum with him. 

“You think so?” 

“Having unprotected sex with my ex who’s also sleeping with other people? Yeah, kinda.” You shrugged, snuggling into the pillows. 

“I’m not sleeping with other people,” Leon said, laying down beside you. 

You had to tell Michelle about this. Leon was not sleeping with other people. But you kept your cool. “Oh. I just assumed, you know.” 

“Are you sleeping with other people?” The panic he tried to pass off as non-chalance wasn’t lost on you. 

“I mean, we’re both allowed to sleep with other people. We’ve been broken up forever and it’s not like we owe each other anything.” 

Leon rolled over on his back, staring at the ceiling. “Right. We’re co-parenting. Well, you’ve been parenting more than I have.” 

“Yeah, but you cooperate well when asked,” you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips, remembering exactly how cooperative he had been only minutes ago. 

“So, this is a one time thing, right?” he whispered.

“I guess … I—”