someone asked so pt. 2 to this post of being on Simon's lap high. i hope you like it im new to this. fyi Simon “Ghost” Riley x black plus size!reader (AFAB, implied fem anatomy)
you're still on his lap, a haze in your brain, and your body weight like a warm, heavy blanket over his thighs. you barely notice how hard his hands are now gripping your hips, or how his cock is straining against the fabric of his pants beneath you, thick and unforgiving.
you’re too high. too relaxed. the show on the screen has your attention, your lips slightly parted, skin buzzing from the mix of weed and Simon’s body heat.
your hips? still moving. lazy, sensual little rolls. unintentional, hypnotic. just your body finding its own rhythm.
and Simon? he’s fucking dying.
he hasn’t moved,doesn’t dare to. every muscle in his body is locked. you shift again, something slow and soft, and you feel it now. feel what you’ve been grinding on without realizing.
“Oh…” you murmur, the tiniest smirk twitching at your lips as the fog lifts just enough for you to register the pressure against your center.
Simon’s jaw ticks. he still won’t look at you.
you lean back slightly, your ass pressing down, your voice all soft and syrupy, “You hard right now?”
his nostrils flare. his head tips back against the couch.
“Been hard, sweetheart,” he grits out. “You’ve been fuckin’ grinding on me like that for ten minutes. Thought I was havin’ a religious experience.”
you let out a lazy little giggle, fingers trailing up his chest. “You could’ve said somethin’…”
“I was tryin’ to be good,” he mutters.
One wraps around your throat, not tight just there while the other drags down your body and dips beneath your waistband.
you gasp as thick fingers part you, feel you, and he groans low in his throat.
“Fuckin’ soaked…” he murmurs, almost in disbelief. “That why you kept moving, baby? Couldn’t help it?”
you hum, nodding lazily. “Didn’t even notice…”
he growls, actually growls, and in one smooth motion, he stands, lifting you with him like you weigh nothing, carrying you to the bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock pressed against you hot and twitching between your thighs.
“You’re gonna notice now.”
he lays you out on the bed like you’re the finest thing he’s ever seen, kisses your thighs like he’s praying at the altar of your body, and when he finally pushes into you, slow and deep, thick enough to stretch, you both gasp.
“You keep bouncin’ on me like that,” he murmurs in your ear, “and I’m never lettin’ you off my lap again.”
