#spree

Until recently, Kurt had only ever filmed himself.

He'd tried the "normal" path first— painfully earnest tutorials, vape unboxings that nobody asked for, daily vlogs where he'd ramble about nothing like it was profound wisdom. Shoot. Edit. Upload. Repeat. The views stayed stuck at double digits. Comments were mostly bots or people straight-up telling him to delete his account and disappear.

So he pivoted.

If the internet didn't want him informative or relatable, maybe it wanted him raw. Exposed. Desperate.

He didn't think it'd actually work. Why would it? He'd never been the guy anyone noticed. In school he was background static—or worse, the easy punchline. No girl had ever looked at him like she was starving. No one had ever wanted him like that.

Still, he hit record.

Three videos. That's literally all it fucking took.

Three shaky, harshly lit, way-too-long clips dumped at 3 a.m. like dirty confessions.

And somehow… it clicked.

Followers started climbing. DMs flooded in. Notifications pinged with tips, subs, custom requests. People started typing his name like it tasted good in their mouths.

It wasn't love. It wasn't real connection.

But it was attention.

And for Kurt, attention was enough.

You found him by accident.

You barely touch Twitter anymore. You were just killing time, thumb flicking mindlessly, when a thirty-second clip auto-played. You almost swiped past.

Almost.

Something made you pause. Then tap.

@KurtsWorld69 8,418 followers. Cam link pinned. OnlyFans in bio.

Instant cringe crawled up your spine.

That username alone should have ended it.

The bio was somehow worse.

Yet you kept scrolling.

It was pathetic.

The emojis. The fake-laugh confidence. The way he tried to play it off like he wasn’t literally jerking off for strangers’ validation.

And still—you didn’t close the app.

It was cringey. Stupid. Borderline embarrassing.

But you watched every single video that night.

Curiosity? Sure. Morbid fascination? Definitely. Same Kurt every time: flushed cheeks, messy hair flopping into his eyes, staring straight into the lens like it could touch him back. Like he needed the camera to tell him he was good. Needed someone—anyone—to want him.

By the third video your thighs were already clenched tight. Heat coiled low and heavy in your belly. Your breathing turned shallow, uneven.

You didn’t even register your hand slipping under the waistband of your panties until your fingers met drenched, swollen heat.

“Fuck,” you breathed, barely audible.

You didn’t stop.

On screen, Kurt’s shirt was bunched between his teeth, jaw clenched so hard the muscle jumped. His tummy flexed with every rough pump of his fist around his cock—thick, flushed, leaking at the tip. He was loud. Shamelessly loud. Broken moans and whimpers spilling out like he couldn’t cage them anymore. No fake porn-star groans—just raw, needy, unfiltered sounds that hit you like a punch.

It shouldn’t have worked.

It did.

You propped the phone against your pillow, volume low, his ragged breathing filling the dark room like he was panting right against your ear.

You hit follow before common sense could catch up.

Then killed the light.

You lasted maybe thirty seconds in the pitch black before your hand was back between your legs—slower now, deliberate. Fingers dragging through your own slick before plunging inside. You gasped when your fingertips grazed your clit—already so sensitive it almost hurt. Your hips rolled up instinctively, back arching off the mattress.

You pictured him.

That same pleading stare aimed at you instead of a lens. That same desperate edge. All that pent-up hunger with nowhere to go except his own fist… until you imagined it going somewhere else.

What if those shaking hands gripped your thighs instead? What if that wrecked voice begged against your throat while he fucked into you—deep, frantic, like he couldn’t get close enough?

Your fingers curled, thumb circling tight. You matched the rhythm from memory—the wet slap of his hand, the hitched “fuck—yeah—please—” leaking from the speaker.

You told yourself it was just curiosity.

Curiosity doesn’t make your thighs quake like that.

Curiosity doesn’t make you bite your knuckles raw to keep quiet.

When you finally came it wasn’t gentle. It ripped through you—sharp, sudden, almost violent. Your cunt clenched hard around your fingers, slick dripping down your wrist, a choked whimper of his name muffled into your palm.

Your body stayed hot. Oversensitive. Breath still ragged.

You lay there staring at the ceiling, aftershocks pulsing faintly, the room heavier, quieter.

Then—

Buzz.

You flinched.

Another buzz.

Heart slamming back into your throat, you rolled over. Screen glowed in the dark.

@KurtsWorld69 followed you back.

You stared. Blinked. Stared again.

No fucking way.

You hadn’t liked. Hadn’t commented. Just… followed.

Pulse roaring, you tapped anyway.

His profile loaded. Same dumb bio. Same try-hard energy.

Except now: Follows you.

Your mouth went dry.

Had he scrolled your page? Seen the unfiltered you—the beach pic with the crooked bikini top, the blurry concert selfie where you’re laughing too hard, the candid where you look soft and real?

Another notification.

A DM.

From him.

You waited three full heartbeats before opening it.

“Hey :)”

Too casual. Probably automated. A funnel script. “Hey cutie, special discount just for you 😉”

You should’ve ignored it.

You didn’t.

You typed. Deleted. Typed again.

You: Hi

Sent.

Typing bubble instantly.

He’d been waiting.

Kurt: oh shit hi Kurt: didn’t think you’d actually reply lol Kurt: you’re real right?? not a bot 😭

You huffed a quiet laugh through your nose. Not what you expected.

Kurt: sorry that sounded dumb af Kurt: i just get so many fake accounts Kurt: but your pics are… normal. like actually normal

Normal.

He’d seen them.

Your skin prickled, suddenly hyper-aware he’d looked.

Kurt: anyway Kurt: hi :)

That stupid smiley again.

For a second you considered blocking him. Thumb hovered over the dots.

This was stupid. Humiliating. Dangerous in the pettiest, most pathetic way.

You’d literally come five minutes ago fantasizing about him.

And now he was here. In your DMs. Acting like some awkward guy saying hi.

Shame hit late and hard—crawling up your neck, burning your cheeks in the dark. He didn’t know. Of course he didn’t. But you did.

You could end it. Block. Pretend it never happened.

He’d think you were a bot.

Your thumb dropped.

You typed instead.

You: yeah I’m real You: promise I’m not here to sell you crypto

You cringed at yourself.

Typing bubble popped up immediately.

Kurt: LMAO okay good Kurt: that would be actually tragic 😅 Kurt: imagine getting scammed by my own followers 🥺🥺 #notcool

A pause.

Then:

Kurt: sooooo… Kurt: what made you follow me? 👀

Your stomach twisted—different heat now. Sharper. More exposed.

What the fuck do you even say?

I binged your whole page and came so hard thinking about your cock I forgot how to breathe?

You shifted under the sheets, bare skin sliding against fabric, still slick between your thighs.

Kurt: wait !! don’t ghost pls Kurt: i was just curious 🥺 Kurt: i mean… i’m just asking 😏 nothing weird unless you want it to be weird… then i’m 100% in 😳

Heat flooded your face. He was terrible at this—awkward, over-explaining, spiraling—but god, it was working. Your cunt gave a traitorous throb.

Kurt: be honest… Kurt: you followed cuz you think i’m hot right? Kurt: …don’t you? 😏

Your heart hammered. Shame and want twisted together until they were the same thing.

You: maybe

Instant.

Kurt: oh 😳 Kurt: okay… wow Kurt: that’s… uh… really flattering lol Kurt: and also kinda hot that you just said it 😏

You rolled your eyes, fighting a stupid grin even as your cheeks burned.

You: don’t get used to it

Kurt: lol i won’t…Kurt: unless you want me to 😏

You leaned back against the headboard, thumb hovering, smiling despite yourself.

You: we’ll see.

He didn’t reply right away.

Maybe he was already stroking himself again—thinking about you this time. About the “maybe.” About what your voice would sound like moaning his name instead of just typing it.

You set the phone down, heart still racing, thighs still slick.

Because whatever this was, it definitely wasn’t over.

The silence after “we’ll see” settles like fog—thick, quiet, impossible to ignore.

Thursday is empty. No ping at dawn with some frantic “you still there???” No panicked voice note rambling apologies. No blurry selfie begging “pls don’t hate me”with big puppy eyes and messy hair. You wake up half-expecting it, half-dreading it, and when nothing comes you feel oddly off-balance.

During your mid-morning coffee break you check his profile anyway, telling yourself it’s just curiosity. Follower count now 9,312. A pinned post from yesterday teases:

hey kurties ! late night live in 20 👀 come say hi 😎✌️

You close the app fast, cheeks burning with how ridiculous you feel. He’s a cam guy. Thousands watch him every week. You’re just some random who stumbled into his orbit.

You spend the rest of the day telling yourself to block him. Delete the chat. Go back to normal life—spreadsheets, endless traffic, burnt office coffee. But you don’t unfollow him on Twitter. You just leave it. Like a door you’re not ready to slam shut.

Friday afternoon, 3:58 p.m., he finally breaks through.

Kurt: hey …  🥺 Kurt: didn’t wanna doubletext like a desperate loser but i’ve been staring at our chat since that night Kurt: “we’ll see” is officially haunting me LOL Kurt: sorry if that’s pathetic :/

You’re home now, kicking off your heels in the entryway, still in the wrinkled pencil skirt and blouse that smell faintly of toner and stale meetings. The message lands low and warm, like fingertips brushing the back of your neck. You change into soft shorts and a tank top, buy yourself time by staring into the fridge like it holds the answers, then reply anyway.

You: Hey You: Not pathetic

Kurt: FR ??!  😳 Kurt: okay okay that just Kurt: made my whole day hehe Kurt: did a live last night actually 😎 Kurt: peaked at like 1,180 viewers Kurt: some girl tipped big for a custom but i kept restarting bc my head was elsewhere 😭

You huff a quiet laugh into the empty kitchen. You saw the teaser post. He knows you’re still following even though you didn’t reply all day, didn’t engage, didn’t tip, didn’t do anything. Still here. Still watching from the sidelines.

The chat drifts for a long while—easy, almost normal.

You complain about the 405 traffic that made you twenty minutes late and the coworker who “forgets” to mute every single call. He sends a blurry photo of one of his dogs on the floor by his gaming chair, tongue lolling out like he’s judging the whole situation:

professional distraction,, he thinks the whole apartment is his throne !! 😡😡

You reply laughing and a picture of your half-dead succulent on the windowsill:

Tired as fuck zzzz

He asks what kind of music you’ve been replaying lately; you mention that one indie playlist that’s been on loop. He sends back three voice notes—his voice softer than in his videos, hesitant and stumbling over his words, a little raspy as he laughs at himself and admits he tried to film earlier but couldn’t focus on anything except your messages. You send a short one back, teasing him gently. He floods the chat with heart-eyes and:

your voice is literally perfect WTF i’m smiling like an idiot now LOL 🥲

It’s comfortable. Too comfortable.

Saturday night, 9:42 p.m., you’re already in bed scrolling when he shifts the tone.

Kurt: can i like be honest for a sec Kurt: you don’t have to answer if it’s weird 🥺

You: Go ahead

Kurt: i keep wondering what you look like when you’re  .. Kurt: alone ?? Kurt: like thinking about me Kurt: maybe like Kurt: touching yourself Kurt: that’s creepy right Kurt: i’m SORRY 😭😭

You set the phone face-down on the nightstand. Walk to the bathroom, splash cold water on your face, stare at your reflection in the mirror. This is insane. He comes on camera for strangers every week. Thousands watch, tip, beg for more. You barely know him. What if he’s recording this? What if tomorrow he posts a screenshot somewhere? What if you regret every single second? Your pulse is already racing, heat pooling low despite every warning light in your head. You come back to bed, hesitate a full minute, thumbs hovering.

You: It’s not creepy You: I do think about you

Kurt: fuck Kurt: okay thats Kurt: wow Kurt: i’m getting hard just from you saying that Kurt: is that too much ??

You hesitate again—thumb frozen over the keyboard. Part of you wants to type “yes, too much, goodnight.” The other part is already soaked, thighs pressing together under the covers, imagining him right now in that dim room.

You: No You: Show me

The photo loads almost instantly. Dim bedroom light, hoodie shoved up to his chest. Slim, soft torso—no cut abs, just pale skin with a faint happy trail of dark hair trailing down from his navel. Scattered moles dot his chest and stomach like tiny perfect beauty marks, the kind that look almost deliberate, warm and human under the lamp glow. Boxers pushed low, hand wrapped tight around a thick, flushed cock curving upward—tip glistening and dripping pre-cum. He’s clearly been stroking for a while; the head is dark, slick, flushed deep.

Kurt: fuck Kurt: thats what you did to me Kurt: just from you saying you think about me … Kurt: i’m shaking rn Kurt: your turn?? Kurt: pls? Kurt: only if you want Kurt: no pressure I SWEAR 🥺

You stare at the photo longer than you should. Heat floods your belly, insistent and undeniable. Your clit throbs even before you touch. You stand, tug your shorts and panties down just enough—dark wet spot already soaking through the fabric, clinging to your swollen folds, a visible damp patch spreading. No face. Just the evidence. Send.

Kurt: OH MY GOD Kurt: you’re fucking soaked Kurt: that wet spot Kurt: shit Kurt: i can see how puffy your lips are through the fabric Kurt: i’m literally shaking harder now

You sit on the edge of the bed, heart hammering. Your hand slips between your legs over the fabric, slow hesitant circles over your clit through the cotton. You’re dripping already, slick seeping through. The hesitation is still there—loud, screaming—but your body doesn’t care.

You: Tell me what you would do if you were here with me right now

His typing bubble appears, disappears, appears again. Then the messages start flooding in, frantic and explicit.

Kurt: fuuuckk Kurt: ookay Kurt: my hand is shaking so bad i can barely type Kurt: i’d walk in and kiss your neck first Kurt: then drop to my knees Kurt: spread your thighs wide Kurt: drag my tongue over your panties first Kurt: just to taste how soaked you are for me Kurt: pull them aside Kurt: bury my face Kurt: lick slow circles around your clit suck it into my mouth Kurt: push two fingers inside you, curl them while i keep eating you out Kurt: make you come on my tongue Kurt: i’ve never done this irl so i’d probably be messy AF Kurt: but i’d try so fucking hard to make you feel good

You: You wouldn’t be messy You: Keep going

You push your panties aside completely now—two fingers sliding deep into your dripping cunt, curling, pumping slow while your thumb grinds tight circles on your swollen clit. Breath coming faster.

Kurt: o ok Kurt: okay Kurt: then i’d stand up Kurt: rub my cock against your clit Kurt: teasing Kurt: push in slow inch by inch watching your lips stretch around me Kurt: yk i’m a virgin LOL Kurt: i know that’s kinda pathetic, no one ever wanted me irl Kurt: but you do, right?

You: Yes

Kurt: fuck Kurt: okay Kurt: i’d go slow at first Kurt: then once i’m all the way inside i’d lose it Kurt: fuck you deep and messy and hard Kurt: probably come embarrassingly fast the first time Kurt: but i’d stay hard for you, keep going Kurt: i want to be good for you Kurt: fill you up Kurt: watch it drip down your thighs Kurt: breed you so deep you feel me for hours Kurt: idk why that part gets me so fucking hard

The confession hits like gasoline on fire. You add a third finger, stretching yourself, pumping faster, thumb frantic on your clit. The room feels too hot, too small.

You: I’m so close already

Kurt: fuck yes Kurt: me too Kurt: stroking faster now Kurt: picturing your pussy clenching around my fingers Kurt: or my tongue Kurt: or my cock Kurt: i’m Kurt: shit

You shatter hard—back arching off the mattress, thighs trembling violently, a choked “Kurt—” breaking into the dark room before you clamp your hand over your mouth. Slick gushes over your fingers, soaking your hand and the sheets beneath you.

His messages flood in seconds later, messy and frantic.

Kurt: coming Kurt: fuck Kurt: so much

A photo loads; thick ropes of cum streaked across his soft stomach, caught in the happy trail and those scattered perfect moles like little stars, pooling in the dip of his navel. His cock still twitching in his loose grip, last bead dripping from the slit. Chest flushed.

Kurt: … holy shit Kurt: i’m actually shaking 😭 Kurt: came so hard i think i blacked out for a second LOL Kurt: that was insane  .. Kurt: but idk i don’t wanna keep doing this over text Kurt: we’re both in LA right?? Kurt: i could drive over tomorrow night after you get off work Kurt: protection or not i don’t care ATP 😅 Kurt: i just need to feel you for real Kurt: no recording stuff ofc !! Kurt: i’ll be SO good i swear Kurt: PLEASE say yes 🥺

You lie there panting, thighs sticky and trembling, heart hammering against your ribs. Every rational thought screams no—this is a stranger, a cam guy with thousands of fans, what if he’s not who he seems, what if it’s awkward or worse, what if you regret opening this door you can’t close? But your body is still pulsing, clenching around nothing, and the image of him showing up at your door—nervous, inexperienced, desperate and real—makes you clench again.

You stare at the ceiling for a long minute, phone heavy in your hand. Then your thumbs move before the doubt can win.

You: Yes You: Tomorrow night. My place. Around 11. You: I’ll send you the address You: Don’t overthink it. Just show up.

Kurt: fuck Kurt: yes Kurt: i’ll be there Kurt: thank you thank you thank you !!!!!!! 😭 Kurt: i can’t believe this is actually happening

You set the phone down in the dark, city lights flickering through the blinds outside. Tomorrow. No more screens. Just him—awkward, needy, painfully real despite everything.

And no matter how many times you tell yourself this is crazy, you’re already counting the hours.

The apartment feels too quiet in the hour before 11:00 p.m.

You’ve spent the day channeling anxiety into motion: scrubbing counters that were already spotless, remaking the bed with fresh sheets that still carry the sharp, clean bite of detergent. In front of the mirror you stood far too long, holding up jeans, then a tighter top, then leggings—each option feeling wrong in its own particular way: too deliberate, too casual, too obvious, not obvious enough. In the end you pulled the black cotton sundress from the back of the closet. Sleeveless. Thin straps. Hem skimming just above mid-thigh. Loose enough to pretend this was casual, light enough that the fabric would slide up easily if things went that way. Nothing desperate. Nothing calculated. You were lying to yourself the whole time.

You almost texted him to cancel. Draft after draft: actually maybe not tonight, headache, long day. Every time your thumb hovered over send, you remembered last night—his cracked “thank you” like you’d handed him something fragile and rare; the photos he sent; the way you’d come whispering his name into an empty room like a secret you weren’t supposed to keep.

You didn’t cancel.

At 11:01 p.m. three soft knocks—careful, almost scared, like he’s afraid of waking someone who isn’t even asleep.

Through the peephole: Kurt, green hoodie zipped to his chin, hair falling messily into his eyes, shifting from foot to foot. A small paper bag dangles from his white-knuckled grip.

You open the door.

And there he is.

The guy you found by pure accident on Twitter—@KurtsWorld69, the one with the ridiculous username. Real. Not a clip. Not a thumbnail you tapped out of curiosity. Him.

Your stomach flips, a quick, dizzy rush of disbelief. A soft, almost amused laugh slips out—more exhale than anything. “Can't believe this is happening.” You mouthed.

He freezes. Eyes widen behind the fringe. Mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.

“Hey…” The word cracks. He clears his throat, tries again softer, grin too big. “Hi. Fuck. You look… insanely good. Yeah. Hi. Sorry, I’m already short-circuiting.”

You step aside. “Come in before the neighbors think I’m harboring a fugitive.”

He huffs a small, relieved laugh—real this time—and slips inside. Door clicks shut. Outdoor light dies. Just the warm amber glow from the living-room lamp now, soft and forgiving, turning the edges of everything golden.

He stops two steps inside, clutching the bag like armor. Eyes flick everywhere: couch, windows, the faint mix of your perfume and yesterday’s takeout. He looks ready to bolt, then squares his shoulders, summoning the same bright energy he uses on camera.

“Brought… stuff,” he says, lifting the bag a fraction. “Condoms—obviously. Waters. And gummy bears. I panicked at the store trying to guess what you’d actually want after… y’know. Or during. Fuck, saying it out loud sounds so dumb. Sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous. Like right now. Hi again.”

You lean back against the door, arms loosely crossed. “You okay?”

He nods too quickly. “Yeah. Totally.” He rubs the back of his neck, cheeks pink. “Okay, maybe freaking out a little. In a good way. Thousands watch me jerk off on stream every week, but this? This is you. In your apartment. With gummy bears. I’m… stupid happy I’m here.” He swallows, voice dropping lower. “Also… been hard since I left my place. Like, painfully. Had to sit in the car reciting license plates just to calm down enough to walk up here.”

You study him. Taller than the camera angles ever made him look, but still slim—lean shoulders, soft middle you already know by heart. His hands—surprisingly large—flex nervously at his sides. The nervous buzz rolling off him is electric, but underneath it that familiar extroverted spark flickers.

You push off the door and close the distance slowly. He doesn’t step back. Just watches, dark eyes tracking every step.

When you’re close enough to catch the faint woodsy bite of his cheap cologne, you reach up and ease his zipper down a few inches. His breath hitches.

You can feel it already—the unmistakable hard line of him pressed against your thigh through the denim, straining, insistent. You’ve known since the moment he stepped inside; the way he’s been shifting, the faint flush creeping up his neck, the way his eyes keep darting down to your mouth and then away like he’s trying not to stare. He’s not subtle. He’s never been subtle.

“So... you've been hard since you left your place, am I right?” you say, voice low, teasing. Inside, doubt spins quietly: stranger, bad idea, what if he ghosts, what if tomorrow feels empty? Your body ignores all of it, already warm and tightening, pulse heavy between your legs.

His eyes snap to yours, wide and glassy. A choked sound escapes him—half laugh, half whimper. “Yeah,” he breathes, voice wrecked already. “Fuck yeah. Since I locked my door. Since I got in the car. Kept having to adjust myself like some desperate teenager. I’m… sorry? I mean—not sorry. Just—yeah. You do that to me.”

He swallows hard, Adam’s apple jumping, cheeks burning brighter under the lamp glow.

You let your hand linger a moment longer, feeling the heat of him through the fabric, the faint twitch when your fingers curl just slightly. Then you slide both palms under his hoodie instead, pressing flat against the warm, trembling skin of his stomach.

“Good,” you say quietly, thumb brushing the soft line of hair trailing down from his navel. “I like knowing.”

His whole body shudders at the words. Eyes flutter half-closed.

You kiss him first—slow, careful, testing.

He melts into it with a helpless little noise, kissing back messy and hungry at first—too eager, a little sloppy—then softer, like he’s terrified of ruining it. His big hands find your waist, fingers curling, pulling you flush until there’s no space left between you, until you can feel every inch of how badly he’s been aching for this.

Foreheads resting together. Breathing ragged.

“Bedroom?” you ask.

He nods fast. “Yeah. Lead the way.”

You turn. He follows—stumbles once on the edge of the rug in the hall, catches himself with a quiet “shit—” and you both huff soft laughs under your breath like teenagers sneaking around.

Bedroom door open. Lamp low. Gold light pooling across the sheets. You push him gently until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. He drops to sit, knees spread, looking up at you with those huge honey eyes—pupils blown, lips parted, cheeks blotchy red.

“Can I see you?” Voice cracks on the last word. “The dress… please? No pressure. I just… you’re so beautiful.”

Doubt flickers—quick and bright—but you step back and pull the black dress over your head in one smooth motion. No bra. Just the black cotton panties already clinging damp between your thighs. His gaze drops, pupils blowing wide.

“Fuck…” Almost reverent. “You’re… holy shit. Perfect. Actually perfect. Can I touch? Please?”

You nod.

His hands come up—shaking at first—cup your breasts gently, thumbs brushing over nipples that pebble instantly. He exhales like he’s been punched. “So soft… so warm… fuck, your skin…”

You climb into his lap, straddle him, roll down once against the bulge in his jeans. He groans deep, head tipping back, hands flying to your hips.

“Off,” you murmur, tugging his hoodie.

He yanks it over his head in one frantic motion—hair staticky, wild. Bare chest now: lean but soft in the middle, moles like stars, happy trail dark and inviting. You drag your nails lightly down his sternum; he shivers hard, goosebumps rising.

You tug at his belt loops. “Jeans.”

He fumbles—buttons, zipper, shoves denim and boxers down in a rush. Cock springs free—heavy, flushed dark, tip slick and leaking steadily. Thicker than the pics. Harder.

He’s trembling just from being exposed. “Shit… look how hard I am. All for you. Been like this since I left home.”

You shimmy out of your panties. He stares, chest rising and falling fast.

You wrap your hand around him—firm, slow stroke. He jerks up into your grip with a choked “oh fuck—your hand—so much better than mine—”

You chuckle softly. “First time anyone’s touched you like this, huh?”

He nods frantically. “Yeah. Never… fuck. Feels… unreal.”

You guide him to your entrance, sink down slow. The stretch is exquisite—thick, hot, filling you inch by inch until he’s seated fully inside. Your inner walls flutter around him instinctively, adjusting to the fullness, the heat radiating from him. He’s trembling beneath you, every muscle locked tight.

“Breathe,” you whisper.

He tries. A shaky laugh escapes. “If you move I’m gonna lose it so fast. Swear. You feel too good.”

You start small—tiny rolls of your hips, grinding in slow circles so your clit drags against the coarse hair at his base. Pleasure sparks low in your belly with every motion, building in lazy waves. He groans low, hands gripping your thighs, fingers digging in just enough to leave faint marks.

“Yeah… fuck, roll like that. Just like that. Don’t stop. Feels perfect.”

You lift and drop once—harder this time. The sudden depth makes you gasp, a sharp bloom of sensation spreading through your core. He bucks up on instinct, chasing the feeling, and the friction sends another jolt straight to your clit.

From there it’s rhythm: steady at first, then faster, grinding down so every stroke rubs you exactly right. His hands roam—waist, hips, breasts—holding on like you might vanish. He doesn’t talk much now—just short, desperate sounds: “fuck,” “so good,” swallowed moans when you clench around him deliberately, testing how it makes him twitch inside you.

“So good,” he pants. “Better than anything. Fuck—I’m—” He stills you suddenly, hands gentle on your hips. Panting against your throat. “Wait—want you to come first. Can I taste you? Please? Need to make you feel good. Really need it.”

You nod, pulse racing.

He flips you carefully—settles between your thighs, spreads you open slow, reverent. “So pretty… so wet… all for me? Fuck, that’s hot. Tell me if I mess up, okay?”

Broad lick up your folds. The first contact is electric—warm, wet tongue dragging slow and deliberate. Then focused—soft sucks, tongue circling your clit in tight, patient loops. You thread fingers through his hair; he moans into you, the vibration traveling straight through your core. Pleasure coils tighter, building in slow, insistent pulses.

“Like that? Tell me… fuck, you taste so sweet… driving me crazy…”

“Circles,” you gasp. “Slower.”

He obeys instantly. “Like this? God—tell me if it’s good… wanna be perfect for you.” Two fingers slide in—curl slow, searching, pressing against that sensitive spot inside until your hips lift off the mattress. “Tight… wet… fuck, am I okay? Please tell me.”

“Good,” you breathe, voice shaky. The combination is overwhelming: his tongue flicking steady, fingers stroking in perfect rhythm, the soft, needy sounds he makes against your skin. Heat surges, coiling low and tight until it snaps—your thighs clamp around his head, back arching, his name spilling out in a broken cry as waves crash through you, sharp and consuming.

He pulls back slow, chin glistening, grinning wide and dazed. “You okay? Fuck… you came so hard. Felt it. So hot.”

“Yeah,” you pant, chest heaving. “Really good.”

He crawls up, kisses you deep—lets you taste yourself on his tongue, salty-sweet and intimate. “Inside again? Please? Need to feel you. Need it bad.”

You pull him close. He settles on top of you, weight comforting, grounding. He pushes in carefully, groaning the whole way down. “So tight. Warm. Perfect.”

He bottoms out and stays still, trembling, forehead pressed to yours. “Can I move? Please?”

You nod.

Slow thrusts first—deep, careful, savoring every slide. Words spill between breaths: “Feels so good… love how you squeeze… tight… perfect… don’t stop… gonna lose it… so fucking good…”

You whisper “Good boy” once.

He shudders hard. “Fuck—say it again? Please? Makes me… yeah.”

“You’re such a good boy, Kurt…” The words come between soft whines as he hits deeper, the praise making him thrust harder, more desperate.

Pace builds. Then he snaps—harder, deeper, hips snapping with raw need. “Gonna come,” he rasps. “Inside—can I—please? Wanna fill you… need to… please say yes.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Pill.”

He buries himself deep—comes with a long broken moan, hot pulses flooding inside you. The sensation tips you again—clenching hard around him, gasping as another orgasm ripples through, softer this time but no less intense, your body milking every last tremor from him.

You collapse together—sweaty, shaking, hearts slamming against each other.

He stays inside a minute longer, kissing your shoulder, collarbone—soft, open-mouthed. “You okay? Was I… too much? Too fast? I talk too much, I know—”

You lace fingers with his. “You were perfect.”

He exhales, shaky relief. “Really?”

“Really.”

You feel him smile against your skin. He pulls out gentle, grabs a warm cloth from the bathroom, cleans you both—careful, tender, almost worshipful.

Climbs back under the covers, curls around you—face in your neck, arm across your waist, leg slung over yours.

You hum, tracing lazy patterns on his back. His breathing evens out slowly. You card fingers through his damp hair. “Stay tonight. Sleep here.”

He stills. Lifts head just enough—eyes searching, vulnerable. “You sure? Like… really sure?”

“Yeah. Want you to.”

Something soft and wrecked flickers across his face. “Thank you… Fuck… thank you. For this.”

Quiet stretches—warm, easy. His breathing slows, body heavy against yours.

Then, sleepy murmur: “Hey… random thing.” Thumb brushes your hip under the blanket. “What if… sometime… we recorded something? Just us. You’d be totally anonymous—no face, no voice, nothing. Could be hot. Fun. No pressure. Just… putting it out there.”

You stare at the ceiling a beat. His heart thumps steady against your side.

“We’ll see,” you say softly.

He laughs quiet against your throat—happy, sleepy. “There it is again. ‘We’ll see.’ Those are my favorite words now… for real!”

You turn your head, meet his eyes. “Maybe,” you murmur. “We’ll see.”

He chuckles—low, warm—pulls you closer. “That’s enough for me. For now. But, seriously, like… You would totally get so much clout! I mean, you’re so pretty and I’m sure my followers would love to… know you? I mean, like your sexy-anonymous-internet sona, or whatever.. so there’s this—”

He starts rambling again, words tumbling out in that familiar, nervous rush. You simply listen, letting the sound wash over you without paying close attention. Something in your chest feels warm, at ease, comfortable—quietly surprised by how right it all feels in this moment.

The lamp glows. City hums outside.

Night stretches—warm, quiet, open-ended.

Liked by sadiesink_, romymars, oliviarodrigo, and 123,182 others yourusername 🐞🍷

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Liked by sadiesink_, calebmclaughlin, djotime, and 523,129 others yourusername the bts 🫧🪞🎬

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Liked by djotime, sadiesink_, mayahawke, and 612,912 others yourusername and scene! thank you to the stranger things cast for always letting me tag along to the premieres, i always have such a blast. i've been watching this show since it came out in 2016 and i'm so impressed by what it has become. i remember begging my unofficial little sister @/sadiesink to join the show until she finally became the max mayfield we all know and love today. it's so beautiful to see a show with such community and bonding 🤍 love you guys

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Liked by djotime, finnwolfhardofficial, priahferguson, and 700,128 others yourusername the after party on digi cam🥂

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djotime posted the worst photo you've ever taken of me by the way

yourusername posted the only photo i could post of you by the way user44 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN...???? user90 OH THEY'RE SOOOO DATING user79 js overly freaked out for no reason whatsoever 😭

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Liked by honeymoon, noahkahanmusic, sadiesink_, and 618,120 others yourusername oh the places you'll go

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sadiesink_ so gorgeous ❤️ Liked by creator

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Liked by yourusername, gatenmatarazzo, charlie.r.heaton, and 532,185 others djotime some stuff

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gatenmatarazzo can't believe you didn't bring me

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user66 Y/N IN THE LIKES. VACATIONED TO THE SAME PLACE. ITS HAPPENING EVERYOEN

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Liked by djotime, sadiesink_, finnwolfhardofficial, and 972,832 others yourusername hi

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“babe,” he whispers, his voice full of sleep, but still soft as his face nuzzled deeper into your neck, his words coming out muffled. “are you awake?”

“mm?” you’re still half asleep as you respond, but you can feel kurt smile against your neck immediately. “what?”

he rolls you onto your back, keeping his leg thrown over yours, before practically dropping the rest of his body on top of you, still holding onto you as tight as he possibly can, like he thinks you’re just going to leave.

“it’s my birthday,” he says before a short, breathy moan escapes his lips as he grinds against your thigh. you hum in agreement, not opening your eyes and letting him drag his hips against you. kurt lets out a whine. “ba-uh-babe…”

“what?” you mumble, turning your head and doing your best to bury your face deeper into the pillow beneath it, your words almost slurring together, speaking raspily. “kurt, what time is it? ‘s too early.”

“it’s, um–shit–it’s, like, five,” kurt answers, then places a gentle kiss to your throat, where his face has been hiding. “just… i need you.”

“i gave you a blowjob at midnight, baby,” you point out, letting his grip around you tighten. his nose rubs against your neck as he raises his head to look you in the eyes, only to find yours closed, and he frowns. “jus’ go back to sleep for a bit, kurtie.”

“but, babe,” he whines, practically humping your thigh like a dog in heat now. though, you won’t lie, the act had caused a tingling warmth to bubble in your stomach, and a wetness to form inside the pair of your boyfriend’s boxers you’re wearing. “you– you said we could, like, do… what i want to do today. please? i just–fuck–i want you. please? please, i-i’ll be so good. i promise.”

“kurt,” you sigh, peeking one eye open, just to meet those big brown eyes giving you a pleading look, his bottom lip jutting out into a begging pout. it’s enough to make you give in. “okay, baby, fine. but only ‘cause i promised.”

kurt’s face lit up immediately, the frown on his face switching to a grin and the sadness in his eyes disappeared, a glimmer of hope shining in them now.

you look up at kurt’s face, already feeling more awake than before after opening both of your eyes, and a playful pout appeared on your own lips.

“aw, kurt, you’re just so cute,” you say, reaching one hand to grab his cheek, pinching at the pink-flushed skin. he pulls back, but he’s smiling. 

“hey, stop it,” he tells you, still blushing, and still smiling, sounding more embarrassed than anything. your palm flattens itself against the side of his face, moving up to push some of his hair back before you hold the side of his face. you lift yourself from the pillows and pull kurt down to kiss his lips.

he melts into it immediately, a soft sound escaping his lips at the contact as he sinks down on top of you, his leg still thrown over yours as one of his hands slides up your shirt to grab at your bare breast beneath it.

your hand slips away from his cheek and moves to the back of his neck, keeping his lips overlapped with yours, letting your tongue slip inside as he lets out a soft whimper. your other hand makes its way to the very little space between where kurt’s tummy is pressed against yours until your fingertips find the waistband of his boxers.

after giving your breast another squeeze, kurt pulls back from the kiss, a string of saliva keeping the two of you connected as his wide-blown pupils stare into you. 

“can i see ‘em? your– your boobies?” he asks, his other hand slipping beneath your shirt and touching the warm skin beneath. “i… i wanna suck one… or– or, like, both… can i? please?” 

you chuckle, then pull your hands away from him to grab at the hem of your–or, technically, his–t-shirt. “you’re the birthday boy.”

kurt grins again and watches as you lift your shirt over your head and toss it somewhere across your bedroom, discarding it on the ground, revealing your breasts to the cool air of the bedroom, and within seconds his mouth is latched onto the nipple of your right tit.

his tongue swirls around the sensitive peak as he sucks on your nipple, his hand squeezing your other breast, pinching at it. you let out a breathy moan of your own, hooking one leg around kurt’s back and arching your body upwards, grinding up against him. kurt whimpers softly, drooling around your tit.

your hands are back on his body; one’s in the back of his hair, fingers massaging into his scalp and holding his head to your breast, while the other digs into his shoulder blade, nails leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin, and kurt loves it.

he’s painfully hard in his boxers now, and feeling you grind against him doesn’t seem to be helping as he detaches himself from your nipple and lifts his head to look at you once more, his lips shining with his own spit.

“can i– i need… babe, i gotta–” he’s stammering over his words, blinking erratically. his eyes aren’t focused, like his brain is moving faster than his mouth can keep up with. “i want–”

he lets out a whine and juts his hips against you again, rolling his bulge against your clothed and soaking core.

“use your words, kurtie,” you whisper, pulling him down so your lips could attach themselves to his neck, leaving wet, slobbery, open-mouthed kisses to his throat, sucking on the skin to leave marks and soft bites that make him whimper.

“i gotta…” he swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing beneath your tongue as you drag it up his throat. he moans loudly, cutting himself off, and you smirk against his skin. “s-stop teasing. i wanna– i gotta be inside you, please, please, please, babe.”

“yeah?” you ask, your grip on his hair loosening so he can lift his neck away from your mouth. “you need me to take care of you, baby?”

“yes. yes, please,” he pleads, then leans down to kiss you, losing himself in your mouth, letting your tongues overlap and tangle against each other, groaning as you pull back, only to bite at his bottom lip a second later.

“where do you want me, birthday boy?” you ask and he finally pulls his hands away from your tits to drag them down your body, grabbing at your waist.

“on– on top,” he chokes out, letting you rake one hand down his chest, your fingers brushing through the patch of dark hair in the middle. “please, mama.”

“you’re so polite, kurt,” you giggle, pecking his lips before both of your hands settle on his shoulders and you carefully push him onto his back and throw one of your legs over his lap to straddle him, your clit brushing against his boner making you draw in a sharp breath. you shuffle back to hover above his thighs as your fingers reach for the waistband of his boxers and you pull them down. 

his cock springs out immediately, his red tip oozing with pre-cum, and kurt whimpers at the feeling while you bite your lip. you drag his underwear the rest of the way down his legs before throwing them away like you had to your shirt. you let saliva gather on your tongue before spitting down on your palm, then you reach forward to grab the base of his dick, pulling your hand upwards, spreading the spit towards his tip. as your thumb traces his slit, kurt’s hips jerk upwards and he lets out a low whine, and you spread his pre-cum down his shaft, hardly noticing the way you drag your hips against his thighs in search of friction.

as you stroke him, kurt stares up at you, his eyes blown wide with lust and love. he reaches forward, grabbing onto your hips, desperately wanting to touch you.

“such a good boy, kurt,” you purr, and you smile at the sound the name causes him to make. “always so good f’me, aren’t you?”

“y-yes,” he moans, bucking his hips up. “yes, mama.”

“good,” you say, then your hand slips away from his cock. kurt whines at the loss of contact, pouting again before he watches you pull the pair of his boxers you’re wearing down your hips and throw them away with the rest of your discarded clothing.

your hand returns to his dick a moment later as you shuffle back up the bed, hovering above him and slowly dragging his tip along your soaking folds.

when his tip makes contact with your hole, you both moan, and as you sink down on his cock, your pussy clamps around him tightly.

“fu-fuck, babe, you–” kurt throws his head back as another whimper escapes his lips, followed by a loud, desperate moan as he thrusts up into you. “so good. so wet, so tight.”

“all yours, kurtie,” you tell him, lifting your hips just to sink down on him again. “so wet just for you, baby.”

you’re quick to pick up the pace, riding him faster, your hands pressed against kurt’s chest for balance while he grabs at your tits again, biting his bottom lip and letting out another strangled groan.

“i’m– fuck, fuck, mama, y’feel so– uh– fuck,” he’s babbling now, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping onto you tighter, bucking up into you again. “need– ungh– ‘m gonna– babe… close…”

“you close, baby?” you ask and he nods quickly, whimpering once more. you pull one hand back from kurt’s chest to start rubbing circles against your clit, moaning at the feeling. “where do you wanna cum, kurtie?”

“in– mm, shit, i-i wanna… inside,” he’s lost in it now, hips jerking upwards into you, hitting that spot deep inside with a hard thrust. “please. can i cum inside?”

“it’s your birthday, kurt. we agreed, whatever you want,” you remind him between your own breathy moans, soft ‘uh, uh, uh’s escaping your lips with each rock of your hips. “you gonna cum?”

he nods, and after a few more thrusts, kurt lets out a long, and loud whine, his hands slipping away from your tits as you feel his cock twitch before he spills inside you. he keeps jerking his hips up, pushing deeper inside even after he’s finished filling you up.

with a few moans, still riding kurt and overstimulating his poor cock, pleasure washes over you like a wave, and kurt’s hips keep bucking up into you, riding out your orgasm before the feeling is too much and you drop down on top of him, sweat-coated skin sticking together as you both breathe slowly, attempting to catch your breath.

kurt’s hands slip around your middle again, pulling you in closer. he doesn’t pull out, his now-soft cock still inside of you and keeping you full.

you kiss one of the moles on his cheek, then one on his jaw, and another on his neck.

“i love you,” you tell him and he smiles, eyes already fluttering shut.

“i love you,” he whispers back, burying his face in your hair, his voice already thick and mumbly, like he’s falling back asleep already. “thank you.”

you kiss his cheek once more. “happy birthday, kurt.”

–

a/n: wow… i hope it’s not totally obvious that i’m actually a total loser virgin (omg just like kurt) wow it’s almost 6 am here oops i stayed up all night writing this, i hope u enjoyed. likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

“You sure you don’t mind?”

You’d asked Kurt this question about a million times, but you wanted to make sure. You respected his feelings. You didn’t want to do anything that would make him uncomfortable.

“Of course not,” Kurt said, brows furrowing, surprised you’d even ask in the first place. A wide, excited grin spread across his lips, his whole face lighting up as he turned in his gaming chair to look at you. “I mean, think about it. You starting OnlyFans will bring so much attention to the channel. Imagine how many new subscribers I’m gonna get!”

It didn’t surprise you that that’s what Kurt cared about, but if there were any hidden feelings, you wanted to know. You brushed your hand through his brown hair, which was getting a little too long and starting to hang into his eyes. He leaned into your touch. “You’re really sure?”

“Yeah,” he said eagerly, visions of skyrocketing views flashing through his mind. You could practically see the wheels turning. “Plus,” he added, “it’s not like you’re gonna be doing anything with other guys.”

“Oh no,” you said, shaking your head. That was never even on the table. “Probably just some sexy pictures. Solo stuff.”

Kurt smirked, his hand lifting to rest on your hip. “Maybe I can help with that part?”

“You wanna be my photographer?” You smiled down at him. You loved the way he looked at you—like he just wanted to be good for you.

“Hell yeah!” he exclaimed. “Just make sure you tag me.”

The OnlyFans launch had been a success. You had a decent enough following on your instagram - much bigger than Kurt’s, though he pretended that didn’t bother him. He always gained at least a few followers when you posted pictures together and tagged him.

You promoted the launch on insta with a sexy lingerie pic teasing more, and within your first day you had plenty of hits.

“Woah!” Kurt exclaimed, grabbing your phone and looking at your page. “This is crazy! You’re gaining so many subscribers.”

Kurt was excited for you, but you could tell he was a little jealous. He had worked so hard on his Kurtsworld96 channel, but he was still stuck at only 1k followers. You had gained that in your first few days on OnlyFans.

Tagging him as your photographer had worked a little, sending a few people his way—mostly driven by the desire to see more of you. His videos that included you in the thumbnail were the biggest on his channel, even if all you were doing was taste testing different brands of Monster with him, or unboxing and reviewing the new camera you’d bought.

A couple weeks into the launch of your OnlyFans, your boyfriend was feeling a little down. You could tell something was up; you knew him better than he knew himself, you sometimes thought. Kurt had begun talking about his channel stats to an obsessive level the way he always did when he was stressed, looking at his channel analytics every twenty minutes. It was driving him crazy.

You came up behind him where he was checking his channel yet again and turned the monitor off, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Hey—“ he protested, but quickly relaxed in your arms as you placed kisses over his neck and jaw.

“You’re stressing yourself out too much,” you murmured gently between kisses, your hands rubbing his chest. His eyes were drifting closed as he melted back into your embrace. “I think you need to get your mind off things, baby.”

“Don’t you have your content to film for today?” he mumbled, a half-hearted jab. He was pouting like a child, bummed out and obviously very, very jealous.

You began to tell him no, you could do it later, it wasn’t important—but then an idea popped into your head. A really good idea. “Yeah, I do,” you said, your voice low, sultry. “Would you want to…help me?”

“What, film for you?” he asked, looking up at you.

You hummed. “I was thinking…something else.”

He sat up to look at you better, suddenly way more invested. “What…what do you want me to do?”

“How about,” you paused, hands slowly rubbing over his chest the way he always liked, “…a collab?”

“A—a…collab?” Kurt stuttered, his hazel eyes going wide, roaming up and down your body without shame. His cheeks tinged an adorable pink color, pink lips parted. “Like…you mean…film with you?”

“Yeah,” you said, hand trailing down his chest. You could feel his breathing picking up, his heart pounding. “I think my subscribers would like that.”

An hour later and the bedroom was set up, cameras on your tripods, positioned to capture all angles. This was going to be a whole production, your best video yet—you wanted it to be hot for both the two of you and your viewers.

You and Kurt hadn’t actually had sex yet. The relationship was still fairly new, and every time you tried, you were constantly interrupted. Kurt was 23 but still lived with his mom, and your content creation kept both of you busy. You didn’t think Kurt had actually had sex with anyone yet. He reacted to you like someone who had never been touched at all before.

He laid back on the soft bed, looking up at you, watching your every move. You had stripped down to your lingerie, a sexy matching black lace set that had Kurt beyond hard already. The outline of his cock was clear, perfectly visible through his boxers. There was a small wet spot from where he’d been leaking so much precum just from the sight of you, not a single touch to where he needed it most. He had been waiting so long to see you, to touch you, and now that it was finally happening, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

“I might not—I might not last,” he said sheepishly. He glanced over at the camera. “You can cut stuff out, right?”

“Yeah, baby, I can.” You straddled his lap, hands pushing his shirt up as they trailed up his stomach, the soft hair there. “I just want you to lay back and enjoy it. Do whatever feels natural.”

Kurt nodded shakily, swallowing as he laid back on the extensive assortment of pillows. His cock throbbed against you beneath the dark blue cotton material, so hard he was aching. His hips bucked up softly against you in tiny, needy little thrusts—he wanted you bad.

Kurt lifted up to help you pull his t-shirt off, falling back against the pillows and watching you, waiting to see what you’d do next. His hands came up to rest tentatively on your bare thighs. You could feel the soft tremble in them, nervous but wanting.

You leaned down over his body, placing kisses along his skin, kissing every mole like tracing constellations. He was shaking ever so slightly, his nerves as evident as his desire. When you reached his lips he met yours all on his own, kissing you with an eager, inexperienced passion. It was sloppy, messy, desperate. One of his hands tangled in your hair, and you slowly rolled your hips against the throbbing arousal pressing against you.

Kurt let out a whiny moan as your heat grinded over the tent in his boxers, cock twitching hard from the slightest attention. His hips bucked up against you, his body craving more. This was your first time filming something for OnlyFans with another person, and your first time touching Kurt like this. He was so responsive to everything you did—you knew your subscribers would love this. 

“Feel good, baby?” you asked him, moving down his body. You kissed his soft lips before moving down to his neck, which he tilted his head to give you more access to. You could feel his chest rising and falling beneath your palm, and if you listened close enough, you could hear his breathy moans as you nipped at his neck.

“Uh…uh huh,” he breathed, his long eyelashes brushing his cheeks as his eyes fluttered closed. “Y-yeah. Feels good.”

“Good,” you said. You moved against his cock harder and Kurt whined, his hips bucking up uncontrollably. You didn’t stop, your movements slow and languid, getting him good and worked up for you. You wanted him needy and desperate, but didn’t want to make him cum in his boxers. It didn’t take much to get him there.

“You ready to try something else?” you whispered, lips ghosting over his jawline. He shuddered beneath you, his eyes closing before he forced them open again. He was so far gone already, totally content and willing to let you do whatever you wanted to him.

“Like…like what?” he stuttered, looking up at you with full trust and total adoration. His fingers dug into the plush skin of your thighs, his hips canting up just barely, desperate for more of that perfect friction.

“Have you ever had your cock sucked before?” you purred in his ear. Another hard shudder wracked his body, his cheeks turning bright red.

“N-no,” Kurt said. He cleared his throat, swallowing hard. “I…no, no one’s done that before.”

Yeah, he was a complete and utter virgin.

You smiled, and placed a soft kiss to the corner of his lips. “I’ve got you,” you said softly. “Let me show you how good I can make you feel.”

Kurt nodded quickly, his hazel eyes wide. “Yeah, I…please. Do that.”

The kisses you placed along his body were hot and reverent, trailing down his neck, over the thick hair on his chest, down his stomach. Kurt watched your every move, his cock throbbing in the confines of his boxers. He let out these little breathy whimpers as you went that started a throbbing between your own legs, panties damp and clinging to your pussy.

Being with a submissive man was never something you’d put much thought into, or thought would be a turn on—but the way Kurt laid there beneath you, needy and pliant and so, so responsive to everything you did…

It was unbearably hot.

You looked up at him as you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his boxers, pausing there for a second. He looked like he was holding his breath, watching you closely, looking down at you like you were a total revelation. The worshipful shine in his eyes boosted your ego, you had to admit.

Finally, taking pity on him, you pulled the material down his body. His cock sprung free, thick and hard and beading at the tip. He hissed in a sharp breath at the feeling of the cool air against his sensitive skin, a sound that quickly faded into an involuntary moan. God, you still hadn’t even touched him.

With his boxers off and thrown onto the floor, you finally took in the sight of him. Your mouth watered at the sight—you couldn’t wait to get him in your mouth, to feel the weight and heat of him against your tongue.

“You’re so big, Kurtie,” you said, trailing your fingernails teasingly, just barely, over the skin of his balls. It made him cry out, cock jerking hard against his stomach.

“F-fuck—“ he stuttered, his hips bucking upwards. “I—oh my god.”

“You’re so cute,” you praised, and you meant it. You wrapped your hand around the base of him, feeling him throbbing against your palm. You’d have to be careful if you didn’t want him to bust in five seconds. “So responsive for me. You’re always so good.”

Kurt whimpered, and you could see how hard he was fighting to keep his eyes open, to not miss seeing a single second of what you were doing to him. “Y-yeah,” he breathed. “You’re—oh—you’re touching me.”

You laughed softly, slowly stroking his thick shaft. “Yeah, I am.” You leaned in, pressing your lips to his tip in a soft, gentle kiss. “Do you like it?”

“Yes.” His answer was immediate, thighs trembling and hips thrusting up helplessly into your fist. “Yeah, yes. I like it, I-I like it a lot.”

“Good,” you said. You smirked up at him—his eyes hadn’t left you once—and stroked him a little bit faster, squeezing slightly on every upstroke. He whimpered, breathy and ruined. You dropped your eyes from his face to look down at his beautiful, perfect cock, and traced your tongue from his base to tip.

The noise Kurt made was choked and broken, his hips bucking again. He gripped the sheets in tight fists. “Oh—f-that’s—“

You wrapped your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around it before slowly taking more of his cock into your mouth. You set a slow, gentle pace, bobbing your head on his cock while using your tongue against the sensitive underside.

Kurt lost it.

“Oh, s-shit, oh fuck,” he cried out, his eyes finally squeezing shut. His hips jerked up in shallow thrusts into your mouth, unable to help himself, lost to the pleasure of it instantly. He panted, drawing in gasps of air, and babbled mindlessly above you. “Oh fuck, you’re s—you’re sucking me, my c-cock—oh fuck, fuck, f-fuck, don’t stop, I, please d-don’t stop doing—oh y-yeah, yes, that, do that again, p-please, I—b-baby, I—oh fuck, I’m—“

Kurt made a loud, strangled noise, reaching down on desperate instinct to grab your hair in his fist, and came hard in your mouth. It felt endless, you had no idea someone could even cum so much. He was seeing stars, ears ringing, moaning and crying and babbling your name over and over as his hips twitched with the force of his orgasm, his hot cum pulsing against your tongue. You moaned around him, working him through it until he couldn’t take it anymore, shaking and gasping.

You pulled off of him with a wet pop, a trail of spit connecting your lips to his head, a sight that made him let out a shaky groan. “You did so good for me, Kurtie,” you praised, smiling up at him with your lips red and slick. Some of his cum dripped down the side of your mouth, and you swiped it away with your thumb, making a show of licking it off while holding eye contact. His spent, soft cock twitched again.

“I didn’t mean…” he said, chest still heaving with his panting breaths. “I wanted to…wanted you to f-fuck me.” His cheeks went red, blushing hard.

“Aw, baby,” you cooed, moving up his body to kiss him. It was soft and brief, and when you pulled back he leaned up after you, chasing your lips again. “You were such a good boy, though. So hot, watching you fall apart like that for me.” Your breath was warm against his cheek as you nuzzled your nose over his skin, whispering low and quiet and just for him. “You taste so good.”

Kurt let out a quiet whine, shuddering hard beneath you. “Can we do more?” he asked, soft and shy. But then a more familiar grin spread over his lips, sounding like the Kurt you knew when he spoke again. “I wanna make a really good video. If your subscribers like it, they’ll come to my channel!”

You laughed, sitting up on your knees. “I just want you to have a good time, baby. We can do whatever you want. They’re gonna love it.”

Kurt’s eyes trailed over your body with undisguised hunger. His hand came up, hovering for a second before resting on your thigh. “Can I try…” His gaze, which had been locked on your body, lifted to meet your eyes. “Can I taste you?”

Your breath hitched. You hadn’t expected him to say that. You’d been so focused on his pleasure, on putting on a good show and making his first time as mind blowing as possible, but it had never once crossed your mind that he might want to take care of you in return.

“You want that, baby?” you asked, rubbing your hand over his chest. You could feel the hard, rhythmic thumping of his racing heart. “You wanna make me feel good, too?”

Kurt nodded fast. His hands trailed up your body with a little more confidence, feeling every inch of your soft skin, the lace of your lingerie. “You look so hot—so beautiful in this,” he said, “but I really wanna—want to take it off.”

A soft smile spread across your lips, looking down at your boyfriend with such genuine love and affection. Here he was, spread out beneath you while you brought him pleasure like he’d never experienced—and he was thinking about pleasing you.

“Okay,” you said, leaning in to ghost a soft kiss to his jaw. “Go ahead, Kurtie. I’m all yours.”

Kurt’s breath hitched audibly, hesitating for only a second before sitting up. He kissed you abruptly, hungry and a little sloppy. His hands slid up the soft skin of your back until he reached the strap of your bra. He kept kissing you as his fingers nervously fumbled with the clasp, moaning as your tongue swiped against his.

After a solid minute of him fighting with it, his lips eventually stilling against yours as he focused on trying to figure it out, you pulled back with a soft giggle. “Do you want some help?”

“No, I…” he said, the look on his face one of pure concentration. “I can…I got it…”

Finally, the hooks came undone. Kurt grinned, accomplished, but the look on his face transformed into pure awe as the material fell away from your chest. Your tits were now on full display, right in front of his face. Without thinking, he surged forward and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples with a ragged moan, his hand grasping at the other breast greedily.

You moaned, head falling back, his actions a genuine surprise. He sucked on your nipple, moaning around it, rubbing his tongue over the hardened nub.

“Fuck, Kurt,” you breathed, one hand moving to cradle the back of his head, tangled in his brown locks, while the other rested on his shoulder. “That feels so good, baby…”

He moaned again before pulling away and switching, taking your other nipple into his mouth while he grabbed your other breast in his hand, squeezing. His cock gave another twitch, starting to harden again already.

“You—you have the most perfect tits,” Kurt said, breathing heavily as he finally pulled away from your nipple with a wet sound. He couldn’t stop staring at them. “Like, wow. No wonder so many people follow you.”

You laughed, loud and surprised. “Thanks, Kurtie.”

He kissed you again, slower this time but no less hungry. You bit lightly at his bottom lip, making him sigh into the kiss as you laid down against the soft sheets. Kurt’s hands went straight for your panties without breaking the kiss, pulling them down.

“Oh,” he said in an awed whisper, looking at the lace in his hands. His thumb rubbed over the damp fabric that had been pressed against your heat, still smelling like you, a scent he found intoxicating. “They’re…wet.”

Another soft laugh spilled from your lips, Kurt finally looking away from the panties to see your face again. “Yeah. You got me so wet, baby.”

“Y-yeah?” he stuttered, eyes wide. “Just from suck—sucking my cock?”

You nodded against the pillows. “Mmhmm. It was so hot.”

Kurt let out a sigh, looking back down at your panties. He brought them up to his face, breathing them in. “Fuck. Smells so good.”

He tossed the panties to the side of the bed as if suddenly remembering the real thing was waiting for him. He settled between your legs, his cock already fully hard again. He rubbed reverently over the skin of your legs, squeezing the plush of your thighs. He lowered himself to lay on his stomach between your spread thighs, his mouth right at your pussy, but not touching you yet where you needed him most.

As he settled there, positioning himself—he paused. “I just—?” he asked, then furrowed his brows. “I, um. What do I do?” He looked down at your glistening core, hunger written all over his features, but hesitating, uncertain. “They don’t show much of this part in porn.”

His words pulled another soft laugh from you. “Maybe not in the kind you watch.” You carded your fingers through his hair, looking down at him there, between your legs, ready and eager to please. “Just use your tongue. Against my clit, my pussy…like you’re kissing.” You tugged lightly at his hair. “And you’re such a good kisser, Kurtie. Remember how I showed you?”

Kurt nodded. “Yeah, you just…like…” He leaned in, sticking his tongue out and dragging it between your folds, a groan rumbling in his chest as he tasted you. “…like that? Jesus, you taste fu—you taste so good.”

The sensation had been nice, if short lived. “Yeah, baby,” you said in a breathy sigh. “Just keep going like that. Try whatever you want, just—put your mouth on me.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. Kurt dove in, licking through your slick folds again. He flicked his tongue over your clit, moaning against it, sending vibrations through your body that had your back arching.

“Fuck!” you moaned, tightening a hand in his hair. “Oh god, Kurt, yeah, just like that.”

The praise had him moaning again, his eyes falling closed, soft lashes brushing his cheek as he devoured you. He was clumsy and messy and really just trying whatever came to mind, but it was working. He held onto your thighs, lapping at your pussy eagerly. 

The alternating between delving his tongue into your cunt and massaging it over your clit had a knot tightening in your stomach. Soft, breathy moans spilled from your lips, forgetting all about the cameras, about any semblance of putting on a show. The only thing you could focus on was the pleasure Kurt was giving you with his mouth, practically making out with your pussy, bringing you to your peak fast without any further instruction.

A sharp gasp left your lungs as he slipped a finger inside. He thrusted it in and out of your tight cunt, quickly adding a second. He was inexperienced and unsure, but the desperate rocking of your hips down against his mouth and fingers spurred him on. He moaned, curling his fingers deep inside, sucking on your throbbing clit—

It shattered. A broken cry filled the air, pulling his hair hard and riding out your orgasm on his face. Kurt took it all, moaning against your soaked pussy and rocking his hips into the mattress, cock leaking onto the sheets beneath him. He was worshipful, adoring, like he was finding god himself between your legs.

You had to push him away when it became too much, when the sharp pleasure faded into painful overstimulation. He pulled back to look at you with his pupils blown and soft lips parted, your wetness all over them, even his chin slick with your sweet honey. It was obscene. It was so hot.

“Did I do good?” he asked, nearly ruining you. “Was that good? God, your pussy, it—your pussy is so good, so sweet, and wet and warm, I—“

“You did perfect,” you praised breathlessly, stopping his rambling. He smiled up at you and lifted up, moving over your body. He kissed you, slow and sweet. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

“I’m hard again,” he told you, smiling sheepishly. As if there was any way to miss it, huge and rock hard and demanding your attention. He rolled his hips against you, smearing precum on your thigh. He let out a soft whimper at the friction. “Can I fu—can I fuck you now?”

You carded your fingers through his hair and pulled him down to kiss you again. It was slow, languid, taking your time to feel him, to massage your tongue against his. It wasn’t the most exciting for the video, but you could cut this out if you needed to. You cared more about Kurt than the content. He didn’t seem to mind, letting you take your time, simply happy and grateful for whatever you gave him. And he always loved kissing you. You’d spent many nights together, lazily making out, Kurt trying to hide the raging hard-on in his jeans.

You grabbed onto Kurt’s shoulders, flipping him. His back hit the mattress, forcing a soft huff of air from his lungs as he smiled up at you. His hands gripped your hips instinctively as you settled on his lap, drawing in a sharp hiss as his cock made contact with your wet heat.

“Fuck—“ he cursed, squeezing your hips a little tighter. He swallowed hard. “Uh, should we…get a condom?”

You rubbed your hands over the hair on his chest. He let out a deep groan, the rumble of it vibrating against your palms. “Do you want to use a condom?”

His eyes flew open wide, darting up from your tits to your face, like that was something he didn’t even realize was negotiable. “I—we don’t have to?”

You rolled your hips over him, drawing out another strangled moan. His reactions never got old. “We don’t have to,” you said. You stilled, seeing on his face that there was no way he could form a coherent thought if you kept moving against him like that. “I’m on birth control. I’m clean, you’re clean. It’s up to you, baby.”

Kurt drew in a deep breath. His eyes moved from your face, to your tits, to your pussy, his cock nestled so close to what he’d been dreaming of for months. He met your eyes again—sure. Resolute. “No condom. I don’t…don’t want to use a condom. I want to f—feel all of you. On my cock.”

You smirked down at him, rubbing over his chest soothingly one more time. “Okay, baby.”

Kurt watched intently as you lifted up over him. You wrapped your hand around his thick cock, tracing his head through your folds, coating him in your wetness. His breath stuttered, body shivering beneath you in anticipation and need.

“Ready, Kurtie?” you asked, watching his face for every slight reaction he gave you.

All he could do was nod wordlessly against the pillows, never pulling his eyes away from where you were about to be connected. That final bridge—that most intimate connection with you he’d been craving, dreaming about with his cock in his fist after you’d gone home for the night.

Slowly, you began to sink down on him. The thick, blunt head of his cock pierced you with a dull sting, fading into an overwhelming fullness as you took more and more of him. Carefully, inch by inch until you were fully seated on his lap, stuffed full of him.

Kurt was gasping and moaning, just from that first initial feel of you. Your cunt was perfect, gripping tight around him, wet and velvety soft and so, so warm, the best thing he’d ever felt in his life, even better than your mouth was—and that had been earth shattering.

His fingers flexed on your hips, his gaze not moving for a second. The sight of himself buried in you, cunt stretched around his girth, taking him all, was intoxicating. You could feel him throbbing hard inside of you, cock twitching against the tight confines of your walls. His hips jerked up sharply, his body chasing more of that pleasure, a choked sound coming straight from his chest.

“Sorry!” he apologized in a panic, even as his hips bucked helplessly up into you again. “Shit—sorry—“

Hands planted on his chest, you lifted yourself up until only his tip remained, then dropped back down onto his lap. You tossed your head back, moaning at the perfect fullness, at the same time Kurt let out a strangled cry, his back arching against the mattress. You set a steady pace, watching him, every reaction on his face all-consuming.

A thin sheen of sweat coated his skin, a flush blooming on his chest and neck. You’d never seen Kurt look like this, so utterly wrecked and lost to pleasure. His brow was furrowed, pretty lips parted to let out those soft moans and whimpers that only fueled your own desire, bouncing on his cock faster.

“Such a good boy for me, Kurtie,” you breathed, alternating hard, grinding rolls of your hips with the quick bounces, taking his cock so deep with every drop down onto him, you could feel him in your stomach. Kurt’s eyes nearly rolled back at the praise combined with the pleasure of your body. “So good—god, baby, you might make me cum again with that perfect cock of yours.”

The sound Kurt made in response was utterly broken, a moan so ragged and primal and consumed by the sensation of you, it made your cunt instinctively clench around him. He began bucking his hips up into you with a frantic desperation, unable to hold back anymore and not really wanting to.

“So—good, oh god so good, your cu—your pussy, it’s—oh j-jesus,” he babbled mindlessly, eyes squeezed shut, panting and moaning and whimpering beneath you. He was dizzy with pleasure, absolutely out of his mind with it. “Tight, i-it’s so tight, so wet, feels good on my—my cock, oh fuck, please don’t stop, keep—keep fu-fucking me, shit—“

You rode him faster, your own head tilted back now, eyes closed, the pleasure coursing through your veins as you fucked yourself on his perfect cock. You could feel the coil tightening again, building quickly deep inside, pussy fluttering around his girth. “Kurt—oh fuck, baby, making me feel so good, so good for me, my good boy, so perfect…”

He choked, digging bruises into your hips and fucking up into you frantically, chasing his second release. Somehow, by complete, beautiful accident, he found that bundle of nerves deep inside you and was hitting that spot every time. Your vision began to go white, nails dragging down his chest as you rode him, taking everything you wanted and needed from him, the orgasm building within you nothing like you’d ever felt before.

It crashed over you in a wave of pleasure that almost made you black out, crying out desperately and moving your hips faster. “Kurt! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Kurt’s eyes opened wide, his pupils nearly eclipsing the hazel around them. He pulled you back down onto his cock with every brutal thrust up into you, making sure you didn’t slow down for a second. You didn’t even think he was aware he was doing it, his need for the pleasure your body was giving him overriding any rational thought, purely primal and desperate.

“You’re so—you’re perfect, your pussy is s-so perfect, taking me deep, so fu-fucking deep, letting me fuck—fuck you, taking my cock—“ He cut himself off with a loud, shaky moan, eyes squeezing shut and back bowing off the bed. “It fe—els so good, feels so good, it’s so—oh fuck oh fuck holy shit holy fuck please baby don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop you’re gonna make me cum—“

The yell that ripped from his throat was like nothing you’d ever heard from a man in bed before, so overwhelmingly hot it had your cunt clenching around him, milking his cock as he pumped up into you in desperate thrusts. You felt the warmth of his cum flooding you, still so fucking much, even after the way he’d spilled into your mouth earlier. He chanted your name like a prayer with every pulse of his release.

You rode him through it, every last shuddering thrust of his powerful orgasm. It took a few minutes before he could even open his eyes to look at you again, his whole body still shaking with the force of it.

When he finally did open them, looking up at you, his eyes a little wet—a wide, amazed grin spread across his lips. “Holy shit.”

You laughed, leaning down to capture his lips in a soft kiss, his softening cock still buried inside you. “Good?”

“Good? I—“ He laughed, breathless and euphoric, skin still flushed and warm. “I’ve never cum like that before, never—I mean, I always cum a lot, when I’m alone, but I never—“ He looked down, eyes widening in wonder at the sight of the cum that dripped down around his shaft from inside of you. “—holy fuck.”

After you’d recovered enough to move, which took a while, you cleaned up and turned the cameras off. You’d never been more excited to rewatch footage. It felt like you’d forgotten all about the cameras in the heat of the moment, but you had a feeling you’d just made the best one yet.

The video was edited and posted a couple of days later. You were right—it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. Everything about it was perfect. Kurt’s reactions were intense but authentic, and you knew the more submissive men who subscribed to you were going to love this.

You knew it would be successful, but you weren’t prepared for just how much people would love it.

Your paid subscriber count jumped by the thousands. Every day you’d check your account, nearly choking as you saw the view count, the amount of people paying for the video, for more of your content. The video was a total hit.

When Kurt came running to you, nearly jumping up and down as he told you how many subscribers his channel was gaining, you really knew you’d made the right choice.

“Look!” he’d practically yelled, shoving his phone in your face. The familiar Kurtsworld96 channel analytics screen was there, the follower count now over ten thousand. A lot of the comments on his videos were asking for more of you, more of what you’d done together, but Kurt didn’t mind that. He was thrilled. “They’re following me! They’re watching!”

Kurt begged you to film with him again, promising to be good for you, begging for the chance to be your good boy again. With your boyfriend happier than you’d ever seen him and people offering you money left and right for more content…

How could you say no?

thank you for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are so appreciated!

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A gasp escaped your mouth; your eyes wide and teary from all the previous orgasms he had given you.

"Look, fuck... Look at the camera mama. Let all your viewers see how much you like my cock. You creaming all over it, right now," he said, his chin resting on your shoulder, face fronting the phone that was currently recording the whole thing. "People on onlyfan are going to like that, right?" He whined, his hips picking up the pace, his fat cock stretching your dripping pussy more and more.

His hand tugged again onto your hair; letting you view yourself in the screen. all drooling, crying, making a mess on his cock.

He groaned in your ear when your walls clenched around his length, your juices making it all slippery.

You gulped, muscles cramped as you came, your come soaking his thighs, balls and the leather of the car seats once more—but Kurt didn't stop, even after that. His hand fell down to your hip to grip it and he buried himself harder inside you, cursing and whining your name. You squirmed; your pussy too sensitive to take it, all soaking down to his balls.

"Ah—ah! Fuck, m'coming! Mama, I'm coming. Going to fill that little pussy up, yeah?" Kurt said before he buried himself all the way in, hips jerking when he came; filling your cunt with his warm cum. Your thighs shook, your back melting against his torso, his semen slowly dripping out of your sloppy hole. You both stopped moving before Kurt looked up at the phone and his hands suddenly grabbed the back of your thighs to lift them up.

His cock slipped out and you whined at the emptiness; your pussy clenching around air. Kurt took adavantage of the new position to slip a hand down to your mess.

"My cum's dripping out... That won't do, nah." He said before gathering a glop of his semen with two fingers and pushed it back inside your cunt, making you gulp in surprise. He pushed his digits deep inside, curling them against your gummy walls and thrusted them in and out of your used hole before pulling out.

"There mama, all filled up. That's better, yeah? Bet I'll become a super-star with that one."