#thomas keefer

Even from here, you could see it in his face. His brows were furrowed, a deep crease between them as though the thoughts crowding his head were fighting for dominance. His jaw was locked tight, lips pressed together in that hard, unreadable line that you had learned meant restraint–like he was holding something in.

But you let your eyes roam, and your heart fluttered despite yourself. He was breathtaking in that uniform–the same one you had seen dozens of times–but somehow tonight it looked sharper, and far more dangerous. The black fabric of the jacket hugged his shoulders like it had been cut and tailored just for him, and the brass buttons that secured it against his frame gleamed with every little motion he made. His name plate sat bold on his chest and on the other side his service ribbons sat on full display in three neat rows. The black tie at his throat was still in pristine condition like he had tightened and adjusted its position multiple times to make sure it was just right, and the pressed white shirt beneath was immaculate. But it was his posture–that straight-back stance that puffed out his chest and exuded power–that undid you completely.

When he pushed open the door his scent flooded into the living room. The subtle bite of the cologne he favoured, something woodsy and animatic, mixed with the starch of his uniform and the faintest trace of clean sweat, leather, and the saltiness of his skin from the long hours of work. You breathed it in instinctively, letting it fill you like oxygen.

You had meant to shower before he got home, he usually sent you a message to be ready, to get dressed in the lingerie he would pick out for you that morning–the soft green lacy set that made his eyes darken the second you had slipped it on to try it on for him. But he didn’t, and now here you were–caught off guard in shorts and one of his t-shirts, looking slightly messy, and unready. The thought had crossed through you with a faint throb of heat, that maybe this was exactly how he wanted you tonight–caught off guard and vulnerable–and that only made your stomach tie up into knots.

Thomsa dropped his keys on the entry way table with a low sigh, his fingers brushing through his light brown hair, fluffing out of place, releasing it from its regulated neatness. The sight alone stirred the warmth that began to pool between your legs. He looked exhausted. But then his eyes–those cool, ocean-clear and slightly calculated eyes–found you sitting on the couch, and for a moment, every line and crevice in his face that displayed frustration softened.

”You’re here,” He stated, his voice rougher than usual, threaded with fatigue, but unmistakably warmer now that he was running his eyes over your body.

“Of course I am,” You answered quietly, tucking a knee beneath yourself. He crossed the living room in a few long strides, each one purposeful, as though he couldn’t shake the Navy-like precision that had been branded into his blood. When he reached you, he didn’t say a word. He just leaned down, with one hand braced on the arm of the couch, while the other sunk into the back cushion, caging you in. You tilted your face up to him, ready for the kiss you needed after a day of being apart, but Thomas swayed right when your lips were about to meet, and kissed you on the cheek instead.

Your breath caught instantly.

”Thomas…” Your voice came out softer than you had meant it to, a little whine leaking through the syllables, “Don’t tease.”

That smirk appeared on his lips, the one that always sent heat rushing through your veins–the one that shows that he knew exactly how much he affected you. He looked down at you, his eyes roaming over your face, keeping his lips hovering just a little out of reach.

”Please,” He drawled, his voice lower now, intimate from the closeness, “You live for me doing this to you…Don’t make it seem like it doesn’t turn you on.” Your body betrayed you with the sharp clench of your thighs together, and his eyes flicked downward, catching the small motion. He leaned in even closer, just enough that his breath skated over your lips but any time you moved forward he moved back slightly.

”Thought so…” He whispered. You swallowed hard, trying to hold his gaze, but it was impossible not to get lost in the weight of him. The authority. The way the sharp cut of his uniform fit him like a second skin.

When he finally pulled back, it wasn't to leave you. It was worse. He moved to the armchair directly across from the couch, lowering himself slowly, the leather squeaking beneath him, as he leaned back into the chair. And then–with aching slowness–he spread his thighs wide and your eyes went straight to them.

The black fabric of his slacks stretched tight, the crisp creases only making the muscles beneath look more powerful, more solid. His polished black shoes glinted under the lamplight, the sharp cuffs of his pants breaking just so against them. He was a Lieutenant through and through–perfect lines, perfect composure–except for the way he was looking at you.

Thomas tilted his head slightly, catching the way your gaze lingered, the faint tremble in your thighs as you tried to press them together without him seeing it, and his lips curved into a wicked, knowing smile.

”You’re drooling baby,” He murmured, his voice a velvet taunt, “Maybe you should close that pretty little mouth of yours.” Heat shot straight to your core, and you forced yourself to swallow, to rally back, shaking your head stubbornly.

”I’m not drooling…” His exhale was sharp and controlled, and his eyes dropped for a second, before lifting back to you, his irises blazing with hunger now.

”But you’re soaked,” He countered, “I already know that for sure.” Your eyes widened at the boldness, your mouth opening as though to protest, but he didn’t give you the chance.

”Come here, Y/N.” Your heart had skipped, beating against your chest. His voice had shifted–commanding now, firm in the way that pulled every nerve in your body taut.

“Crawl to me,” He continued, leaning back just enough to let the words sink in, “I want to see you on your hands and knees. Right here.” He motioned lazily to the floor between his spread thighs, widening them even further, his expectant gaze locked to yours.

The room went quiet, and the tick of the old grandfather clock on the wall filled the silence as your pulse hammered in your ears. Your jaw clenched slightly, your pride prickling, but you found yourself slipping down from the couch cushion anyways.

The carpet brushed your palms as you set your hands down, as your knees followed, your body bowing low in obedience even as your face burned with heat.

A low hum left his throat as he watched, his lips twitching at the sight.

”Good girl,” He whispered warmly, like you had taken a shot of alcohol and the warmth of it slid down your spine.

You kept your eyes on him, refusing to look away as you crawled forward slowly, your hips swaying to test him, to tease. You could see the way his eyes roamed over you, following every shift, and every line of your body as you crossed the space between the both of you.

By the time you had finally reached him and settled between his thighs, your pulse was like a drumbeat in your chest, building up in anticipation.

Thomas leaned forward, biting down on his bottom lip for just a second as he brought his hand to you, sliding his fingertips along the front of your shirt, trailing towards the hem of your shorts before teasing the waistband, tugging lightly at it to give himself a bit more access.

Your instinct kicked in and you closed your legs, your thighs pressing together tight, and you could see the way his smirk only deepened.

”Oh?” His tone was mocking, the words curling around you like smoke, “Trying to hide something?” You shook your head, swallowing hard before you let your lips curve into something sly, something just barely defiant.

“I’m not hiding anything…” Your voice was quieter, breathier, but you pushed the words out anyway, “I’m bargaining…I’ll only open them if I get a proper kiss from you.” Thomas let out a short huff of laughter, the sound low and rough in his chest, before exhaling in a sigh that told you he found you amusing–and infuriating. His thumb pressed lightly into the band of your shorts, heat blooming against your skin, but he leaned closer, his nose almost touching yours.

”You think you can bargain with me?” He murmured, his tone both indulgent and laced with warning.

”Yes,” You whispered back, stubbornly. His mouth quirked at the corner, that wicked smirk returning. And then he dipped his head, brushing his lips against yours–just a single, teasing press, a peck. Too fleeting to satisfy, and too fleeting to do anything but make your entire body ache for more. The needy sound that broke from your throat–half moan, half protest–slipped out before you could stop it.

”Another,” You said, desperate for more. His brows lifted just slightly, amused by your audacity, but he didn’t make you beg twice. He leaned in again, his lips slanting over yours a second time, firmer, lingering now, tasting you. His hand lifted from your waistband to your jaw, holding you still as his mouth moved with yours. This kiss melted deeper, tongues brushing, a low vibration rumbling in his throat.

When your arms came up, wrapping around his neck desperately, clinging to him as if you could pull him closer still, he let out a groan–one that sent fire down your spine. But then he pulled back suddenly, catching your lip between his teeth for a split second before breaking the kiss.

“Alright,” He rasped, his voice darker now, commanding. “That’s enough. Now open those pretty legs up for me.” The order cut through the haze. Heat spread between your thighs at the bluntness of it, at the way his tone left no room for hesitation. Slowly, you shifted on your knees, spreading your legs just enough to allow him access, your breath shaky as you waited.

Thomas hummed in approval, his eyes locking to yours as his hand slid back down to the waistband of your shorts, dipping beneath them, and your panties. The first brush of his warm fingers against your slick folds made your head tip back, a whimper escaping before you could swallow it down.

“Mmm.” He hummed, the sound smug, and satisfied. His lips hovered near your ear as he whispered, “Knew you’d be all worked up for me.” His fingertips dragged lightly over your clit, putting just enough pressure on it to make your body jolt before sliding down again, tracing the dampness that coated you.

”Fuck…Thomas…” You gasped softly, your thigh twitching at the sensation.

”Look at you,” He murmured, rubbing your clit with slow, deliberate circles now, his touch controlled, and devastating, “I walk in the door, still in uniform and you’re dripping for me.” His teeth grazed his bottom lip as he watched your lashes flutter at the comment, his eyes darkening with lust, “You get wet the second you see me in this, don’t you?’ You shook your head, a small, breathless sound slipping out, even though your hips were already pressing up against his hand, chasing the friction.

”Don’t lie to me, baby,” He warned softly, pressing harder against your clit, the motion stealing your breath, “This uniform drives you crazy…Makes you weak and needy.” A moan tore from your throat as your fingers clawed at his shoulders, your nails digging through the stiff fabric of his jacket. You wanted to deny it, wanted to keep up some semblance of defiance, but your body betrayed you with every slick shift of his fingers. His eyes narrowed as he felt the way you pulsed under his touch.

”Such an easy little thing…Always willing to obey…Always ready to spread those thighs the second I ask.” You whimpered, clutching at him harder, leaning into him, trying to wrap your arms around him to hold him close. His lips ghosted against your temple as he chuckled lowly.

”Mm…Think I’m going to have to tie those hands up since you’re not able to control yourself.” He taunted, hearing your breath hitch in your throat, as you felt yourself twitching at the mere thought.

“Thomas…” You whispered, but it came out more as a plea than protest.

He didn’t give you room to argue. His free hand moved to his throat, tugging at the knot of his tie. You watched with wide eyes as he loosened it with practiced ease, sliding it free from the collar. The motion was casual, but the sight of that black tie hanging from his hand made your chest thrum.

Meanwhile, his other hand pulled slowly from your shorts, dragging his damp fingers up your lower stomach, before lifting them to your mouth. His gaze pinned you as he pressed the glistening digits against your mouth.

”Clean them off for me,” He ordered softly, teasing the seam of your lips until you parted for him, opening your mouth obediently before he pushed them in, sliding two fingers across your tongue. Your lips closed around them instantly, sucking them deep, letting them brush the back of your throat. His eyes sharpened instantly, his breath catching at the sight of you gagging softly on his fingers, and you let your lashes flutter before dragging your tongue along the length of them, tasting yourself.

Salty. Musky. Sweet at the edges. The unmistakable taste of your arousal coated your tongue, and you moaned around his fingers, sucking harder. Your lips sealed tight, cheeks hollowing as you worked them like you’d work his cock, tongue curling around the pads, teasing the webbing between them.

Thomas tilted his head, watching you with dark, molten hunger. A low hum of satisfaction slipped from his throat, quiet but thick with approval. The sound made your thighs clench, and when your eyes flicked down, you caught sight of the outline pressing hard against the seam of his slacks. Even bound in stiff, regulation fabric, his cock strained, tenting the black material. He was getting off on this–on you–just from the sight of you licking your own slick off his fingers. When you hummed around them, his jaw twitched, and after another long moment, he slipped them from your mouth, dragging them slow over your lips, leaving a wet sheen behind. You chased after them with a needy little whimper, but he didn’t give them back.

“Hands.” The single word cracked through the room like a whip. You smirked faintly, leaning back just enough to keep your wrists close to your chest.

“What if I don’t feel like it?” The brat in you slipped out in a taunt, even as your breath came heavy.

His brows lifted once, but he didn’t argue. Instead, his tone dropped into something colder, sterner. “Give me your hands, Y/N.” That shift in his voice cut through you, straight to your core. Your pulse skipped, and after a beat of defiance, you gave in, slowly extending your wrists toward him, bound together in surrender.

“That’s my girl,” He murmured, taking them firmly, looping the black silk around until the knot was snug, tight enough you couldn’t slip out, loose enough not to hurt. He gave a test tug, watching your chest rise in a shaky breath, then released them, smirking.

“Now…” His voice softened into a velvet drag, “Stand up for me, baby. And let me take those pretty little shorts off so you can get onto my lap, hmm?” Your breath hitched, trembling in your bound hands as he helped you rise from your kneeled position. Standing before him, you felt small under his gaze, heat coiling low in your belly. He looked up at you with that wicked smile that made your knees weak.

His hands found your hips first, fingers sliding under the waistband of your shorts. He tugged them down agonizingly slow, peeling the fabric over your ass, down your thighs, his knuckles grazing your skin. The shorts slid past your knees, pooling at your feet with your panties tangled inside them. You stepped out of them, kicking them aside, and his eyes devoured you–bare, wet, trembling, and standing above him.

“Beautiful,” He muttered, almost to himself, before leaning back into the chair. His hands moved to his belt, undoing the buckle with a swift flick. The sound of the leather sliding free was sharp in the quiet room. He unbuttoned his slacks, and unzipped them slowly, before pushing them down just enough to free his cock, which was already thick, and glistening at the tip.

It slapped up against his stomach, hard and heavy, leaving a wet streak against his jacket. He exhaled harshly through his nose, catching the way your eyes widened, and smirked as he reached for you again.

“C’mere.” His voice was gravel.

You barely had time to gasp before he was tugging you closer, his grip on your hips firm as he guided you onto his lap. He spread your thighs wide, placing each on either side of his, forcing you open. You could feel the slick heat of yourself smear against him as your pussy brushed over his cock.

He grabbed the tie binding your wrists, tugging them up and over his shoulders so that your bound hands rested behind his neck, keeping you close, as his mouth ghosted over yours, his hot breath fanning your lips.

“You feel that?” He murmured, shifting just enough that the head of his cock dragged along your wet folds, smearing your slick all over him. “You’re dripping all over me…” A whimper broke from your throat, hips instinctively grinding forward.

“That’s all this is, isn’t it?” His voice sharpened with a cruel smirk. “Me in this uniform, and you can’t fucking help yourself. You see me in it and you’re already spread and ready to be fucked.”

“Jesus Christ. Thomas…” You gasped, nails biting into your palms. He ignored your plea, dragging the fat head of his cock slowly through your slick, teasing your clit, pressing just barely at your entrance before pulling back. Your back arched, your bound wrists tightening behind his neck, desperate.

“All you’ll be able to do is ride me, baby,” he continued, his tone filthy, taunting. “Arms tied up, with nothing to hold onto. You’ll just take me while I sit here in full dress, watching you soak my cock…That’s all you’re good for right now.” Your eyes rolled back, a breathless moan breaking free from your throat.

“Fuck Thomas…I need it so bad.” He hummed approvingly at the way you begged, as one hand came up to cup your ass, coaxing you to lift just enough for him to line himself up with your dripping slit. He shifted his hips, the thick, swollen head of his cock catching against your entrance.

”You feel that?” He rasped, pressing slowly, teasing your tightness. “That’s what you’ve been begging for.” You whined at the feeling, your hips trying to push down, only for him to hold you just out of reach.

“Uh-uh,” He chided, his smirk curling. “Not until I move you.” Your chest heaved, your entire body trembling as he dragged the tip along your slit one more time before finally easing you onto him.

Inch by inch, his cock stretched you open, filling you until you cried out, your back arching, bound wrists straining behind his neck.

“Fuck–yes,” You gasped, shuddering as the stretch burned sweet, the way it always felt when he fucked you. Thomas groaned low, his forehead pressing to yours for a moment as he exhaled.

“That’s it…Take it all like the good girl you are.” Your walls pulsed around him, as your nails bit harder into your palm.

”You’re so fucking big…”

“And you take it so fucking well,” He grunted, thrusting his hips just a little to seat himself deeper, groaning when your slick gushed down over him. “God you’re dripping all over my cock…Getting everything all wet.” Your head fell back, mouth open in a moan.

”Holy shit.” You whispered under your breath, feeling him pressing against your cervix. His palm gripped your ass firmly, squeezing until your breath stuttered, and then he flexed inside you–just a subtle twitch of his cock that made your walls clamp down in reflex. You cried out, writhing against him, and his eyes dropped between your bodies to watch the way your wetness gleamed along his thick length, slicking down to the base, dripping onto his thighs. The sight pulled a guttural groan from his chest, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he lifted his gaze back to you.

He caught your mouth in a kiss–hungry and searing, his tongue claiming yours like a reward for the way you’d taken him so perfectly. His lips broke from yours only far enough to growl against your cheek.

“You love it, don’t you? Getting fucked with me dressed like this. Makes you weak…Tell me how much you fucking love it.” Your moan was strangled, desperate.

“I love it when you’re in co-control like this…When you tie me up, when you make me obey. It–fuck–it makes me so fucking wet. I fucking love it so much.” His grin was feral, his breath hot against your lips.

“Good girl. That’s what I wanted to hear.” His hands squeezed your ass again, guiding you as his hips snapped up sharply, driving into you deeper, “Now ride me, baby…” Your bound hands tightened at the back of his neck for leverage as you lifted yourself, thighs trembling already, before sinking back down with a sharp slap of skin on skin. He groaned, low and raw, and met your movement with a hard thrust of his own, making you cry out.

“That’s it,” He hissed, dragging you up again only to slam you down harder. “Ride my cock. Take every inch. Show me how much you love it.”

Your voice broke with the rhythm, high and breathless. “I love it, I love your cock–I love when you use me like this–”

“Fuck, baby, yeah…” He reached up with one hand, palming your breast through his t-shirt, squeezing until you gasped. “Your tits bouncing in my shirt, soaking me everywhere…You’re so fucking perfect.” You bounced on him, your thighs smacking against his, wetness splattering with every thrust. The obscene sound of it filled the room, your slick coating him, dripping down onto the chair, your thighs sliding against his uniform trousers. Every movement smeared more of you across him, the filth of it only spurring him on.

“Jesus Christ, listen to you,” He rasped, sweat beading at his temple as his hips pumped up into you. “You’re fucking soaking me…Ruining my pants, dripping all over my thighs…”

“Can’t help it,” You moaned, your voice breaking into a whine as his cock pressed deeper, nudging your cervix. “You feel so good, Thomas–I can’t stop–”

“That’s right,” he grunted, snapping up harder, grinding into you until your walls convulsed. “Can’t stop when I’ve got you like this. Tied up and spread on my cock…You’re mine like this.” Your body shook, every nerve screaming as the pleasure built sharp and fast. You cried out, loud and unrestrained, your thighs twitching as your climax broke through. Slick gushed down his cock, soaking his lap, your body seizing around him.

“Fuck, Thomas!” You wailed, grinding helplessly as he kept you moving, coaxing every ounce of release from you.

“That’s it, baby,” He groaned, his voice raw, his hips driving up to meet you. “Cum all over me…Drip for me…Fuck, you’re so fucking good.” Your breath came in sobs, your nails biting into your palms as your bound arms twitched against his neck. He thrust up hard, pulled you down tight against him, and with a strangled growl, he spilled inside you. Hot, thick ropes filled you, your pussy milking him as he groaned into your shoulder.

“Fuck, baby…” He moaned, still grinding through the last shudders, holding you against him. “You’re so fucking good.” You trembled in his lap, your body weak and shaking, thighs twitching with aftershocks. Your chest heaved, breath coming in ragged pants. He pressed a brief, tender kiss to your lips, then pulled back just enough to cup your cheek with his large hand.

“You look so blissed out…” He whispered, his thumb stroking your damp skin. “It’s always so easy to make you cum like this.” You let out a soft, satiated sigh, your lips quirking with a breathless smirk.

“I should sue the Navy for making these uniforms irresistible.” Thomas barked out a low laugh, his chest vibrating against yours.

“Hun…I don’t think it’s just the uniform.”

You arched a brow, smirking as you leaned in to kiss him again, your voice teasing. “I guess it’s you too.”