Thursdays
Every Thursday night, Joel sneaks across Jackson to fuck you into your mattress and soak your sheets in sweat and cum and spit and lube - and tears if he got lucky
His calloused hands, rough from wood working and playing guitar, rub up and down the insides of your thighs as he eats you out. He’s devouring you like you’re his favorite dessert and it’s been too long since he’s had a taste. Both of those things were true
When you ride him he holds your plush hips so sweetly, telling you he loves the couple extra pounds you put on (something you’d made a neutral comment about the other day) and that he wouldn’t mind a few more if things happened to go that way
He’s always loved your body, it’s more recent that he’s fallen in love with you. He hasn’t said the L word yet, but you both know you want to. This was still secret. Thursdays were still a sacred ritual, just for the two of you. Nobody knew. Nobody needed to know.
When he cums inside you, both of you tipping over that sharp edge at the same time, sweat is dripping down your foreheads and his hands are bruising your hips and everything is just so~
Later, after helping you clean up, he kisses you goodbye.
and then you both just wait
for next thursday
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