#sumbissive

Playing Dirty

It’s been days since you’ve heard from Hank, and as the evening settles in, you find yourself glancing at your phone, thinking about him. You miss him, more than you’d like to admit, and you try to push the feeling aside as you focus on tidying up.

You clean your apartment, putting away the dishes, picking up the living room, changing the linens. With everything in order, you stand back, taking in the quiet stillness of the place.

You decide to take a relaxing shower and just as you head to the bedroom your phone buzzes on the coffee table.

You rush back into the living room, relieved to see Hank’s name lighting up the screen. Without hesitation, you pick up.

“Hello?” you answer, breathless from the sudden dash.

His deep, familiar voice comes through with a hint of warmth in his tone. “It rang this time,” he teases.

“Hank, where have you been?” you ask, unable to mask the desperation in your voice.

He hesitates, a slight pause before he finally speaks. “Can I come to your place?” he asks, and there’s an urgency in his tone that catches you off guard making concern flicker in your chest.

“Of course is every thing okay,” you ask feeling worried.

“Yeah I just… need to see you,” he slowly admits and the vulnerability in his voice catches you off guard.

“I’m sending you my address right now” you respond as you finish texting it to him.

“I’ll be there soon” he says and you both say your goodbyes ending the call.

You stand there after you hang up, the phone still clutched in your hand and your heart is tethered between excitement and uncertainty.

Part of you is overjoyed at the thought of seeing Hank again, but then there’s the other part, the unsettling ache that he can disappear for days without a word, like you’re just one small part of his life—a life you know nothing about.

Your mind goes over every possible scenario, wondering what could be wrong, why he keeps you at arm’s length only to reel you back in with that unmistakable intensity.

His touch, his presence, the way he makes you feel like you’re the only one in his world—it’s all become a pull you can’t break free from, completely unsure of where it will lead.

Though you try to deny it, you’ve fallen for him, fallen in a way that feels reckless and all-consuming.

Even though you know he’s complicated, you can feel yourself surrendering, unable to resist your need for him, even if you wanted to.

An hour passes by until you finally hear his gentle knock on your door and all the emotions you’ve been holding back flood forward, impossible to contain.

You open the door, and there he stands, Hank’s tall frame silhouetted in the doorway, his sandy blonde hair tucked behind his ears, and those intense blue eyes meeting yours with a look of complete desire.

Without even thinking, your arms are wrapping around him, your body pressing into his. You breathe in his familiar scent, and in that instant, all the walls of uncertainty come crashing down.

His arms come around you, holding you close, and it feels like finding something you’d been missing even though you tried to pretend you were fine without it.

You pull back just enough to look up at him, biting back the questions threatening to spill out, and instead, you search his eyes. As he looks at you, his expression softens, a small smile forming on his lips, and you can’t help but smile back, feeling the tension between you dissolve.

He leans down, his forehead resting gently against yours, his touch tender and unexpectedly vulnerable. “I missed you so much,” he whispers, his voice low, almost fragile, and all of your lingering thoughts vanish into thin air.

He leans in and kisses you, his lips soft and hesitant at first, but then he kisses you deeply, and you feel all your emotions ignite for him as you surrender to the undeniable pull between you both.

His hands slide down your back, bringing you closer, and as your arms wrap around his neck your fingers graze the familiar curls at the ends of his hair.

Still lip-locked, he guides you in pushing the door shut behind him, one hand reaching back to lock it with a quiet click.

His hands quickly returns to you, and he pulls your top over your head in one smooth motion before tugging off his own shirt, the warmth of his skin meeting yours.

He guides you to the living room couch, his hands firm and steady as he unzips his pants, his gaze dropping as he retrieves a condom from his pocket, letting his pants fall to the floor as he kicks his shoes aside.

He focuses on tearing the condom open and sliding it on his cock as you kiss along his jaw, trailing down to his neck.

His hands return to you with confidence hooking fingers into the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down, his gaze dark and focused.

“I couldn't stop thinking about you,” he admits, his voice barely more than a whisper as he unclasps your bra.

The raw honesty in his tone sends a thrill down your spine, and as he trails kisses along your collarbone your fingers slide into his hair feeling the soft strands. His movements are slow and unhurried, filled with reverence as he begins to pull your panties down your hips.

He leans in, his lips brushing over yours in a silent plea. “I know I’ve kept you waiting,” he whispers, his breath warm against his lips. “There are things I’m dealing with… things I can’t share yet. But I’m here now, and I need you to know—-I never stop thinking about you.”

You feel a surge of emotion as you look into his eyes seeing his sincerity and his mouth finds yours again in another slow, consuming that erases every lingering question, every doubt.

His hands slide down your body as his tongue brushes against yours, his kiss growing so intense making it impossible to think about anything else.

His infatuation is undeniable, his mouth moving against yours with a heated determination savoring every touch of your lips, as if he’s afraid to let you go.

A flicker of concern pulls you from the haze as you lean back slightly, searching his face seeing a shadow of something darker in his eyes

“Hank tell me what’s wrong” You ask breathlessly, your voice filled vulnerability.

He lowers his lips to your shoulder, tracing a delicate path of kisses “ Later ,” he whispers against your skin his voice heavy with longing

“Right now,” he whispers, as he lowers you onto the couch, “I want to give you everything you’ve been waiting for.” He says with a quiet intimacy, pressing his body firmly against yours, grounding you beneath his weight.

His mouth finds yours again, his tongue moving against yours in a slow, tantalizing rhythm. Each stroke is deliberate and unhurried, drawing a soft, helpless moans from your lips that’s muffled against his mouth.

His tip nudges against your slick entrance, and you softly gasp feeling the firmness of it.

“Is this what you want?” he whispers, his voice low and breathless as he kisses along your neck gliding his tip along your wetness, as soft moans escape your lips.

“Please,” you whisper, voice heavy with desire.

“So eager,” he teases, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, holding you firmly in place as he lean in whispering into your ear. “beg for me” he breathes.

“Hank… please,” you beg instantly, barely able to contain your arousal as you arch your hips up, aching to feel him deep inside you. But he doesn’t give in, he holds you there, savoring the way you respond to him, every pleasing sound, writhe of your hips driving him to the edge.

“Let me hear how much you want it” he says as he slowly pushes in an inch before stopping.

Your loud moan fills the room, fueling his desire, as his hips tilt, pressing the tip just a little deeper before he pulls back, leaving you gasping with desperation.

“That bad, huh?” he whispers, his voice low with a hint of a smile playing on his lips. His mouth slowly trails kisses up your neck until his voice is a low, teasing whisper in your ear. “You can take it all at once, can’t you?…”

Before you can respond, he thrusts into you with one powerful motion, filling you to the hilt. A moan tumbles from your lips, your back arching as he hits that perfect depth, sending a wave of pleasure through you.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his tone both commanding and reverent as he begins a steady rhythm, each thrust deep and controlled. “I want to feel every bit of you… squeezing me, just like this.”

You moan, hands clutching his shoulders, feeling the fullness of his cock with every slow, torturous thrust. Your moan trails off into soft cries as his hips press even deeper, drawing every sensation out.

“Is this what you’ve been waiting for?” he breathes his voice rough and thick, his hands digging into your hips, guiding you to meet each thrust.

Your dumbstruck, lost entirely in the intensity of the moment enduring every pleasurable sensation he creates in you.

He leans in close, his mouth hovering over yours, his breath warm as he waits for you to kiss him, holding back just long enough to make you crave it.

His lips brush over yours, soft at first, barely there, teasing you as your fingers tighten on his shoulders, urging him to kiss you. But he just grins, a slow, seductive smile that sends a thrill through you.

“You want more?” he teases, his lips barely an inch from yours, his eyes dancing with a playful, knowing gleam as you nod for him.

In one smooth, forceful motion, he pushes deeper, his thrusts sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. His hips snap between your legs, each movement precise and intense, as uncontrollable moans escape your lips

The sound of your pleasure only drives him further, a spark igniting in his eyes as he presses his chest firmly against yours.

His hands tilt your hips as he thrusts himself into you finding that perfect place within, setting off a cascade of emotions that leaves you breathless.

Your moans blend with quick, shallow gasps, every muscle in your body tightening as the familiar wave of your orgasm builds.

He smiles, his mouth returning to yours, finally deepening the kiss. His tongue sweeps over yours in a slow, tantalizing rhythm, filling you with the taste of him.

Your walls instinctively tighten as you feel each push of his cock becoming deeper, more intense, his pace building, his hips thrusting harder between your legs.

The sounds of his pleasure is rough, the way he pants and grunts against your ear, adding to the intoxicating heat building between you

“Taking this cock so well“ he praises his voice low with exertion.

Desperate moan escape your lips, feeling every powerful flex of his muscles as he drives into you with a force that leaves you dazed. Your mind is hazy, completely overwhelmed as his fingers grip your waist holding you in place as you take each powerful thrust of his cock bringing you both to the edge.

His lips graze your jaw as he loses himself , his loud groans against your ear spurring you further into the haze of desire that’s taken over.

Your face is unrestrained with pleasure, your lips parted as moans spill out, growing louder and needier with every moment.

You can feel yourself unraveling, every part of you under his control, and your body finally gives out and you orgasm, your back arching as your hips push against him.

His hips wetly clap against you as you come and the sensation is so pleasurable you feel another pressure swell deep within as a second release rushes from your core.

“Look at you, soaking my cock,” he praises, his voice filled with satisfaction as he takes in the sight of you in a blissed out beautiful mess beneath him.

His hands slide over your hips, steadying you as he moves with purpose, each thrust designed to push you further into euphoria as he savors every shiver, every quiet moan.

His pace begin to falter, each movement becoming more erratic as his own climax builds, and with one final, deep thrust he comes.

Your walls clench around him, drawing him deeper, his name spilling out uncontrollably from your lips as a wave of pleasure crashes over you both.

His breaths are ragged, his hips grinding in slow, deep circles as his body tenses against you. He groans from his chest as he empties himself, the warmth of his come sending a final, powerful wave of pleasure through you both.

He's breathless as he rests his hands on your hips holding them steady as he slowly glides his cock out until you both sigh.

He sits back on the couch, staring off into space, a look of complete satisfaction softening his features.

As you slowly sit up beside him his gaze is distant, lost in his thoughts, and you trail your hand down his jaw with a soft, reassuring touch.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” you ask him gently, your voice barely above a whisper.

His shoulders drop, and he leans forward, covering his face with his hands. Slowly, he drags his fingers through his hair, pulling it back, his eyes filled with a raw, almost unbearable intensity. The usual confident, guarded expression slips away, revealing something deeper, something vulnerable and anguished.

“It’s bad” he out right admits, his voice heavy with a seriousness that makes your pulse quicken.

“What is it Hank?” you ask, becoming more concerned by the second.

“Do you have any liquor here?” he asks, looking around your place and you shake your head trying to lighten the mood with small talk.

“No, that’s why I go to your bar,” you tease, hoping to coax a smile out of him.

He nods, the corner of his lips tugging upward, but the worry never fully leaves his eyes.

“Let’s go to a bar,” he suggests, catching you off guard and you blink, surprised, with his change in plans to drink due to his kidney removal.

But the tension in his face tells you something’s shifted, something’s drastically changed in his world, and as he rests his hand on your knee, his fingers tapping nervously, you realize something’s very wrong.

The night starts off well enough, Hank begins to unwind after a few drinks the conversation and flirtation flowing easily as you sit together. But as the night wears on, it becomes clear this isnt just a casual night out for Hank.

He begins drinking like there is a void he is trying to fill, each glass disappearing faster than the last.

You try to be understanding , but the warning bells are already ringing. Hank isnt just getting drunk—he’s getting wasted.

His charming familiar edge of sweet and wild begins to change into something darker after a couple rounds.

As a baseball game intensifies on the screen above the bar, Hank’s attention is entirely drawn in, his composure slipping the deeper he gets into the action.

“Are you kidding me?” he yells, jutting his hand out at the tv in frustration. “That was a clear strike!”

His eyes are fixed on the screen his irritation growing as he watches the game continue. “What the hell are they looking at? He’s safe, are they blind!” He yells, his voice heavy with bitterness in his tone drawing glances from other patrons.

“Hank, I’m getting us a taxi,” you finally say seeing he’s beyond his limits.

His eyes flick from the screen to you, a faint smirk softening his expression “Look at you…-all responsible…trying to keep me ..-in line..-“

He says dragging out the words, a lazy smile spreading across his face as his gaze drifts over you,

“Thought you liked me ..-a little wild,” he says seductively, his voice low and challenging heavy with the weight of alcohol.

“That’s why I’m taking you to my place,” you whisper with a grin your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you speak.

As you pull back to look at him his eyes are dark with desire, and that smirk—lazy and dangerous makes you bite your lip.

After settling the bill, you glance over at Hank, his eyes glazed and unfocused, the weight of the night’s drinks clearly settling in. You know full well he’d never have let you pay if he were in any condition to argue.

“Come on, Hank,” you say, offering him your hand. He blinks up at you, eyes flickering with something soft and unfocused, as if he’s just now realizing what kind of situation he’s in.

He takes your hand, his grip warm and surprisingly gentle, but the second he tries to stand, he slightly sways, leaning heavily against you, forcing you to reach for his arm to keep him steady.

He looks at you then, a slow smile tugging at his lips, his gaze lingering in that way that’s softened by the haze of alcohol.

“You really can’t resist taking care of me, can you?” He says slowly as he looks down at you, and in that moment there’s no denying your feeling for him.

His eyes hold a magnetic pull with an intensity that seems to cut right through you.

His sandy blonde hair falls perfectly into place, framing his smirk that’s equal parts devilish and alluring.

Even in his wasted state— Hank is irresistible, and before you know it, his hand is in yours, fingers intertwining as you pull him out into the night.

Hank’s laughter echoes through the quiet street, loud and unrestrained, as he stumbles out of the bar with you. He leans heavily against your shoulder as you wave down the first cab you see.

But Hank isn’t ready to call it a night, and as the cab pulls up he slips from your hold, stumbling in front of the it with a wild, defiant grin and spreads his arms wide, yelling like he’s a baseball announcer.

“He’s safe!” Hank yells, his voice booming as he throws his arms wide, mimicking an umpire calling a play. “The bases are loaded, and he’s safe!” he shouts again, wild with enthusiasm, drumming his hands down on the hood of the cab. The sharp sound startles the driver, who slams on the gas, tires squealing against the pavement as Hank stumbles back, grinning.

“He’s outta here!” Hank slurs, pointing sloppily after the departing taxi and laughing like it’s the funniest thing in the world, completely oblivious to the situation until he catches the concerned look on your face.

“Hank, what was that for?” you ask, your tone edged with frustration. You’re tipsy, a little off-balance yourself, but nowhere near his level of wasted.

“I… I’m not going back to your place,” he mutters, his gaze fixed on you and your expression shifts waiting and expecting him to take it back, to laugh it off like some twisted joke, but he doesn’t.

“Hank, what are you saying?” you manage, your voice wavering from the alcohol clouding your head.

Hank’s gaze drops to the ground, his expression shifting, like he’s struggling against something he can’t put into words and you catch the flicker of frustration in his eyes as he avoids your stare.

“You’re not safe with me,” he mutters, barely audible. “We… we can’t see each other for a while.”

His words hang in the air between you, completely catching you off guard as you search his face, desperate to understand.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he mutters, his voice low, almost like he’s talking more to himself than to you.

Your breath catches, a sinking feeling settling in your chest. “Hurt me? Hank, what are you even talking about?” You take a step closer, trying to catch his eye, but he looks away.

He shakes his head, frustration flickering across his face. “You don’t get it. There’s… things about me that you don’t know.” He swallows, his voice raw. “I thought I could keep you safe from all of it, but I can’t. You’re not safe with me.”

A chill runs down your spine, and you feel your heart pounding faster. “Hank, you don’t get to just decide that for me. Whatever you’re dealing with, let me in… I want to understand. We can handle this together.”

He lets out a hollow laugh, finally lifting his gaze to meet yours, though there’s a hardness there you’ve never seen before. “You think it’s that easy? That I can just let you in and everything will be fine?” His words are harsh, but you can sense the pain underneath. “I’m telling you, we can’t see each other for a while. It’s better this way.”

“So… that’s it?” you ask, your voice sounding strange, thin, and trembling

He runs a hand through his hair, the gesture tense and agitated. “I’m a mess,” he mutters, his gaze finally meeting yours, a mix of regret and something almost like fear shadowing his eyes.

“You wanted me, Hank. You brought me into this—you made me —feel things, flaws and all. I know you’re not perfect. I’ve seen you struggle, and I still wanted you… chose you. And now you’re just telling me I should leave?”

He opens his mouth as if to respond, but nothing comes out. Instead, his expression hardens, like he’s trying to keep everything locked away, the silence stretching between you, heavy and raw. The alcohol only amplifies the ache, blurring the edges making it harder to hold back the emotions threatening to spill over.

Finally, you draw in a shaky breath, willing your voice to stay steady. “Fine. If you’re not going to let me in… if you’re just going to shut me out when things get tough… maybe your right .”

Without a second thought you walk away from him as you wave down an approaching taxi.

“You’re the one who pulled me in, Hank. So don’t you dare act like you’re doing me some kind of favor by pushing me way,” you yell over your shoulder, the words raw and full of everything you’ve been holding back.

“Wait… please!” he calls after you, stumbling forward, his voice breaking. “I didn’t… I don’t… this isn’t what I want!” His words are jumbled and desperate, with his internal struggle.

But it’s too late. You’re already sliding into the backseat of the cab, slamming the door shut on whatever the hell this was supposed to be, finally letting him feel the weight of this situationship for once .

As the taxi pulls away, you can still hear him calling your name in the street, his voice fading with each passing second.

Over an hour passes as you begin to sober up, the sting of the night slowly dulling as you step out of a long, hot shower. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you breathe deeply, hoping to wash away the heart ache that lingers, though it clings stubbornly, refusing to dissolve.

You slip into your nightie, the silk fabric sliding over your skin, doing little to ease the strange emptiness settling inside.

You wonder if Hank is okay, wonder if he’s feeling even a fraction of what’s tearing through right now and you suddenly just want to be back in his arms, without thinking, you grab your phone from your purse.

The screen is lit up with notifications—over a dozen missed calls from Hank. Each one a silent plea, his desperate attempt to reach you, a sign that he wasn’t ready to let you go any more than you were ready to leave. But you don't answer. Not in the taxi, and not now.

You clutch the phone tightly, staring at his name on the screen, and your heart fills with the reassurance that at least for now he wants you just as much as you want him.

You almost press the call button, but you can’t, not yet. You need him to show you what you truly mean to him, to stop pushing you away only to pull you back in when it suits him—-to finally stop playing dirty.

A knock comes softly at your front door barely audible at first, but when you don’t answer, it becomes more insistent filling the silence of your apartment.

When you check the peephole and see Hank standing there, your heart skips a beat as you slowly open the door.

He stands there with his hands shoved into his pockets, his tall frame slouched, shoulders down, his whole posture reflecting the weight of his guilt.

His sandy blonde hair is now tousled, his full lips almost in a pout, and his eyes, those soft blue pleading eyes, are practically begging even before he speaks.

“Can I come in?” he asks, his voice lower laced with a hint of shame as his gaze flickers downward.

“For what? So you can tell me to leave you again?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

He blinks, clearly taken aback, his expression flickering with surprise and a hint of hurt not expecting such a cold reaction from you.

“That’s not… that’s not what I meant, alright…” His voice trails off as he looks down, avoiding your eyes.

You watch him struggle with his feelings, his hands running through his hair, frustration clear in every movement. “Fuck—I don’t know how to do this,” he mutters, his voice rough as he tries to gather his thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, his voice softer now, and he looks up at you with the most unmistakable puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen.

Your breath catches at how pretty he looks but you hold firm, waiting for him to finally decide whether he’s willing to trust you enough to let you in.

“You hurt me tonight, Hank.” You remark, you our voice laced with dissatisfaction.

His head lowers “I know…” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “I just—fuck, I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t have said that”

“It’s just…” he pauses, taking a shaky breath. “Right now, I’m caught up in something that’s spiraling out of control— and I …I don’t want you to leave me— I want you more than anything right now.”

You lift your chin, feeling his words stirring something deep inside.

“Then tell me what it is you’re hiding from me. If being with you is such a risk, then lay it out, Hank. Be honest with me.”

He stares at you, a mix of fear and yearning in his eyes, like he’s torn between wanting to let you in and wanting to protect you by keeping his distance.

“I will tell you,” he finally says, nodding slowly,“But you have to give me time.”

He reaches out, his fingers brushing your arm. “Please just… let me in. Please let me make it up to you.”

You feel your resolve soften as his words linger in the air and he looks so vulnerable, practically begging with those eyes of his.

With a sigh, you step aside, allowing him to walk in.

“You owe me more than an apology tonight Hank,” you confirm, your tone steady as he watches you lock the door.

“What can I do?” he asks, his voice quieter, his expression laced with remorse. “I’ll do anything.”

His words send small wave of satisfaction through you, though you don’t let him see it, instead you hold his gaze, watching as he waits, anticipation flickering in his eyes.

“Like I said you owe me more than an apology,” you repeat, your voice taking on a more dangerous edge as you walk past him.

Hanks eyes follows your movements, his confusion slowly turning into understanding that this is about more than an apology.

You pause for a moment, letting the silence hang between you, before you give him your command casual and calm.

“Get on your knees for me.”

Hanks body tenses, and for a split second, you can see him hesitate.

But then he does just as you say and slowly sinks to his knees.

As you watch him a small smile forms on your lips, because there’s something deliciously satisfying about seeing Hank this way.

As you stand directly in front of him, his breaths are a little uneven, and when you place your hand in his sandy blonde hair, tilting his head back a gasp escapes his lips.

His eyes are pleading as they meet yours, his usual confidence nowhere to be found and as you tug his hair a little harder making him wince, the thrill of having him completely at your mercy sends a surge of excitement through you.

“Look at you,” you tease, your voice soft but commanding. “kneeling in front of me like the mess that you are.”

Hank’s breath catches in his throat, hearing his own words thrown back at him, and his hand reaches out, trembling just a little as his fingertips trail up your bare thigh, inching toward the hem of your nightie.

You narrow you eyes as you tsk at him.

“Did I say you could touch me?” you ask with authority.

He brings his hand back immediately, “No you didn’t” he says full of apology as he looks up at you.

You faintly smile at how he listens and release his hair gently tucking the strands behind his ears.

“Good boy,” you coo, your voice dripping with satisfaction as you look at him. “You’re going to do exactly what I say tonight, aren’t you?”

Hank nods, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “Y-yeah,” he stammers, his voice unsteady, eyes flickering with a mixture of vulnerability and uncertainty.

You lean down just enough so that your fingertips trail over his jaw. “You’ve got a lot to make up for tonight Hank,” you whisper, your tone laced with promise. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you do it right.”

You slowly straighten up, your nightie brushing softly against your thighs and Hank’s eyes lock onto it but his hands stay obediently at his sides, exactly where you want them.

Your hands freely glide down your body teasing him, and you can see the lust in his eyes—his desperate desire to touch you, to be forgiven in the most physical way.

He slightly licks his lips, and you smirk, watching the way his fingers twitch, wanting to touch you.

Slowly, you lift up your nightie, just enough to give him a teasing glimpse of your bare skin.

“You’re not wearing… panties,” he breathes, his voice filled with an unmistakable edge of desire and as he stares between your legs his restraint immediately falters as he tries to stand.

With one fluid motion, you drape your leg over his shoulder pushing him down with just enough force to keep him on his knees.

His breath hitches in surprise as you reach down, grabbing a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back just enough to assert your control.

“Where do you think you’re going?” you ask, your voice a low purr. Hank groans, a pitiful sound that only makes you tug harder. His eyes dart up to meet yours, wide with a mix of apology and raw desire.

“Please…” he whispers, his voice barely above a rasp, his lips brushing against your thigh as he speaks. “Let me fix it—let me just—”you cut him off with another firm pull on his hair.

“Fuck!” He yells his face wincing as you tilt his head back harder.

“No Hank, you don’t get to decide what you want.” you command, your voice unwavering. “Tonight you’re here to please me. Isn’t that right?”

Hank’s blue eyes flicker up to meet yours, a hint of vulnerability and arousal shining through as he slowly nods.

“Good boy,” you coo, your voice soft and sweet “Now, do as you’re told.”

With your hand firmly in his hair, you position him exactly where you want him between your legs.

“Show me just how sorry you are.” You command him.

He obeys, opening his mouth and eagerly licking his tongue along your pussy.

He moves his head in perfect rhythm, his mouth working with a combination of desperation and skill that has you softly gasping.

You look down at him and see hes enjoying every minute of eating you out, his eyes fluttering closed as he focuses entirely on pleasing you, the tension in his body telling you just how badly he wants to do it right.

“You like this don’t you Hank,?” you ask, your voice breathy as you watch the way he devours you like a man starved.

He nods eagerly, his mouth too occupied to respond properly, but his moans against your pussy are the only answer you need.

You arch your back slightly, feeling a wave of pleasure roll through you as he intensifies his efforts. “Mmm Hank… Just like that,” you praise, tightening your grip in his hair, guiding him exactly where you want him. He moans against your pussy, your praise driving him wild as he keeps going with raw devotion.

A soft moan escapes your lips as he deepens his attentions with his tongue, every thrust sending a ripple of sensation through you. “You’re doing so well for me Hank…-almost making me forget …-what an idiot you were tonight ” you praise, your fingers tangling tighter in his hair.

Hank’s eyes flick up to meet yours, and the sheer devotion in his gaze is almost enough to make you forgive him. Almost. But for now, you’re going to make him work for it.

As he becomes more focused, you feel a surge of arousal building within you, your breaths becoming heavier, each one a little more unrestrained, until soft moans begin to spill from your lips.

The intensity in his gaze only deepens as he senses you nearing the edge, spurring him to work harder, each movement faster and perfectly timed.

Your body tenses as your head falls back and you orgasm with Hank’s mouth pressed against your pussy.

You push against his face as the pleasure rolls though you until the intensity of your orgasm begins to subside, then you gently pull his head back, releasing his hair and savoring the dazed dreamlike look in his eyes as he catches his breath.

“Please…” he whispers pressing his face against your leg ”Let me give you more” he asks, his voice is low and desperate and you can feel his ragged breaths against your skin as he presses gentle, lingering kisses along your inner thigh,

His hand starts to move up, his fingers reaching to satisfy you, trying everything in his power to get the reaction he wants, but you catch his wrist before he even touches you.

“You don’t get to decide when or how you please me tonight.” you say, your tone resolute.

You release his hand his eyes are filled with a dying need, craving the chance to satisfy you again.

“Get up,” you order him as you lift your leg from his shoulder and he immediately stands.

Hank is much taller than you and as you stare up at him you can see the way he holds himself back.

You take a step aside, your gaze steady as you point to the bedroom. “Go,” you command your voice unwavering.

Hank doesn’t hesitate as he stumbles toward the bedroom door. The adrenaline of the moment is still coursing through him, but the alcohol delays his movements just enough to make him a little less graceful than usual. You follow behind, taking your time, knowing exactly what’s in store for him.

Once he’s inside the bedroom, you stand at the door, watching the way he waits for you, his body tense with anticipation and you let the silence linger, as he feels the full weight of your gaze.

You take in every detail of his stance, his pupils wide his breaths panting and the unmistakable hardness of his cock pressing insistently against the fabric of his cargos.

“Undress for me” you command your eyes flicking up to meet his and he readily obeys.

You watch as he fumbles with his shirt, stripping it off clumsily then his hands move to his belt and he struggles with the buckle due to his drunkenness.

“On the bed,” you instruct, your voice direct and sharp cutting through the room before he’s even undressed.

Hank looks up at you desperation in his eyes still half clothed “shit” he mutters moving faster his belt slipping from his hands as he drops his pants to the floor.

He’s hard—so hard, you can practically see the tension in his heavy cock as he climbs onto the bed, laying back.

His eyes follow your every movement, his chest rising and falling heavily with anticipation. His cock is strained hard with the need for release, but he’s smart enough to know you’re still in control.

You step toward him, bending down slowly to pick up his discarded belt from the floor and you can see the realization flash across his face as you loop the leather strap around your fingers, testing its weight.

“Hands,” you command, nodding toward the headboard.

Hank’s arms shoot up without hesitation, his eyes never leaving yours as you lean over him, wrapping the belt around his wrists and tying him securely to the bars of the headboard. He squirms a little beneath you, testing the restraint.

“Comfortable?” you ask, your voice filled with amusement as you pull the belt tight, securing it with a final tug.

“Y-yeah,” he breathes out, his voice shaky but eager, the restraints on his arms only making the moment more exciting for him.

“Good,” you say,as you run your hand down the length of his chest, watching the way his muscles tense under your touch. “Because you’re not going anywhere until I’m satisfied again.”

A soft sigh of pleasure escapes his lips as you climb on top of him, your thighs brushing his, teasing him with just enough contact to drive him insane but not giving him he craves. His hips buck instantly, and you press down on his chest, holding him still.

You shake your head as you lean in, your breath warm against his ear. “You don’t move until I say so.”

Hank bites down on his lip, his eyes screwing shut as he tries to control himself. His whole body is tense, as you slide a hand down his abs, purposefully avoiding his erection. You tease him every where else with touch and lean back, just enough to watch his reaction, enjoying how desperate he looks.

“Do you think I’m going to let you off easily tonight?” you ask, your voice soft but filled with authority.

“N-no,” he whispers, shaking his head. He’s panting now, clearly fighting to keep himself under control, and you can see the strain it’s causing him. Every vein in his hard cock is pulsing with need, but he knows better than to push you.

You reach into your nightstand, retrieving a condom. His cock stands hard and flushed, the tip a deep pink, from his arousal. His breath hitches as you put it on but he doesn’t move as you carefully roll it down his length to the base.

You smile, pleased with his obedience and you shift your hips, finally positioning yourself over him, just enough to brush yourself against him, letting him feel you without giving him what he so desperately desires.

His hips jerk upward instinctively, and you push them back down with firm hands, keeping him pinned beneath you.

“You’re going to wait until I’m ready.” you instruct and Hank lets out a low groan, his wrists pulling against the belt as he strains to keep still.

You slowly lower down onto his large cock, watching the way his face softens with pleasure, it feels so good you both moan as you settle on the base and you begin to ride him gently, your breaths coming in soft pants as you roll your hips against him.

His eyes are wide and pleading, as he watches you gliding up and down on his cock with agonizing slowness never giving him just enough to push him over the edge.

His face is a picture of barely contained bliss, his usually steady jaw now slack, lips parted as he tries to keep his focus.

You feel the subtle twitch of his cock inside you, the undeniable sign he will come despite his efforts to hold back.

You stop your movements, leaning down to press a single, lingering kiss against his neck. “You come when I say,” you whisper,lowering your mouth with intent, gently sucking a sensitive spot just above his collarbone to form a bruise.

Hank lets out a soft, sigh,savoring the sensation as your lips leave a subtle mark.

You continue to use him for your pleasure, grinding down on him, taking your time, reveling in the way his body trembles beneath you.

His breaths grow ragged, his chest heaving as he tries to keep himself from coming, and you can feel the tension building in him, his cock becoming harder as his desperation mounts with every passing second.

Your climax builds within, your thighs tightening around his waist as the tension peaks, each pulse intensifying the sensation between you. As you orgasm, your walls tightens around him, every contraction amplifying the pleasure for both of you.

He groans feeling you come, his hands pulling futilely against the belt as you begin to grind down on him harder, sending him spiraling over the edge.

“Come for me, Hank,” you gasp, your voice filled with anticipation, and he lets out a deep, guttural groan, his head tilting back as his eyes squeeze shut feeling the intensity of pleasure take over.

His abs are flexing hard as you feel the full power of his release, his hips jutting up hard as he comes in you.

You moan above him feeling all his control and composure lost in one, overwhelming moment. He is left breathless, his chest rising and falling rapidly as the condom holds the warmth of his come inside you.

Before and he can even think about moving, you lean down, your lips close to his ear.

“Don’t you ever hurt me like that again,” you say, your voice breathless but firm.

Hank nods weakly, too spent to say anything, but you know he understands.

You reach up, finally releasing the belt from his wrists, and the moment his hands are free, he moves quickly, his fingers finding their way to your hair, pulling you in as his lips press against yours in a heavy desperate kiss.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers between kisses, his voice laden with the sincerity. “I didn’t mean it… I’m so damn sorry.”

You run your fingers gently through his hair, soothing him as you pull back from the kiss. “I know,” you whisper, a small, affectionate smile tugging at your lips as you meet his gaze.

You continue to stroke his hair as he sighs, the tension in his body easing under your touch.

His face is soft and vulnerable, his sandy blonde hair falling gently along his jawline, framing his captivating blue eyes.

As he looks at you, his full lips curve into a faint, knowing smile, and his hand finds yours, guiding it to rest over his chest.

“You played hard ball with me tonight,” he says, his voice low, a spark of that familiar mischief lighting his eyes. “And I liked it,” he grins, the softness in his expression and the way he looks at you like he’s ready to do it all over again, tells you it won’t be just reserved for earned punishments.

His expression shifts, a glimmer of something raw flashing across his face.

“I don’t want to lose you ” He confesses the words slipping out before he can stop them, and he searches your face, almost uncertain, as if he’s laid himself bare in a way he hasn’t before.

The simple truth of his words resonates deeply, and you feel a pull to ask him more, to understand what’s haunting him, what he’s been carrying in silence.

But instead, you settle into the warmth of his embrace, grateful knowing that in time, he will tell you everything.

You want Hank—more than what’s good for you, more than what is safe for your heart and as he holds you close, so peaceful and serene you know a part of him feels the same way about you.

End 🧢

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