Adult Content

You dramatically slump yourself over the small table in the diner, “what is wrong with me?!” you groan, lightly banging your forehead against the surface.

“I take it things didn’t go to plan last night?” Angie asks, trying not to laugh at your theatrics.

“Not quite,” you mumble, pushing yourself back up to a seated position.

It’s been 2 months since your first date with Frankie and everything is amazing. Except for one thing. You still haven’t been able to bring yourself to sleep with him. 

Things have progressed from strictly phone sex. Not that you still don’t indulge in that on the regular, especially after he’s worked a long shift and he calls you, exhausted but never too tired to hear about your day. It always inevitably ends up with you knuckle deep in your pussy as he tells you all the dirty thoughts he’s having. 

You’ve sucked his dick more than a few times and watching him come undone because of you is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever seen. It has left you with somewhat of an oral fixation, and you often find yourself daydreaming about taking him in your mouth and sucking him dry. It doesn’t hurt that he has one of the prettiest dicks you’ve ever seen in your life. Long and girthy and uncut, smooth as velvet, nestled in a bed of dark hair at the base. Hair that you just love to nuzzle and bury your nose in, his unique Frankie smell so concentrated there. You could get high on it. 

And you’ve let him inside you, with his fingers at least. Your panties are often stolen away by him. It happens so often now that you’ve taken to only wearing skirts and dresses around him to facilitate his blatant theft, but skirts and dresses always remain in place as he squeezes his thick fingers inside you and blasts you to ecstasy. 

It’s not that you don’t want to take things to the next level. As good as he fingers you and as much as you love having his cock in your mouth, your pussy drools at the thought of taking him. At how good he will stretch you and how far inside he’ll reach. You’re desperate for it. But also terrified. You know you don’t need to be naked to have sex but Frankie seems to have taken your refusal to shed your clothes as a sign that you’re not ready yet. And he’s insistent that things will go no further until you are. He never pressures you. But you can see the disappointment in his face every time you flinch when he tries to remove an article of clothing. It’s quickly hidden and he moves on but you hate how pathetic you are. But no matter how much you talk yourself up to it beforehand, when the moment arrives the panic sets in. You know that he can see you’re not svelte like all the models you see on social media and tv even with your clothes on, but the fact is you can’t understand what it is he sees in you. A man like Frankie could easily bag himself a woman like that. And him realising he could do better after he’s seen you naked would be a blow to your psyche that you’d never recover from. 

A part of you has wondered once or twice if it’s just the chase that has him on the hook now. That even if he isn’t repulsed by your body, that once he’s had you the thrill will be gone and he’ll move on. Something which prompted Angie to tell you that you needed your head seeing to. She’s been trying her best to help hype you up, trying to bolster your confidence but last night had been another in a long list of failures. 

“Look, you’re just putting too much pressure on it. You need to stop thinking about it so much and let it happen naturally.”

“What if I can’t ever bring myself to though? He’s not going to wait around forever.”

“See that’s what I’m talking about. You need to stop thinking in absolutes. You just need to give your confidence time to catch up with what your brain has already figured out.”

“And what has my brain figured out?”

“That Frankie is not like all those other losers you’ve been with and worships the ground you walk on. You don’t need to rush this.”

And deep down you know she’s right. Frankie has proven to you time and time again that he is kind and caring and trustworthy. It only the critical voices in your head - the ones that sound an awful lot like your mother, would get the memo. Speaking of which…

“Well if confidence is what it’s gona take we can write off this weekend, I’m having brunch with my mom.”

Angie grimaces at you, well aware of your fractious relationship with your family. 

“I can call you and pretend I’m having an emergency?” she offers.

You snort, “you assume that she would care enough about anyone else to consider that a good enough reason for me to bail.”

Angie snickers along with you, her sympathy for your mother non-existent with the number of times she’s seen her tear you down. 

“I still don’t get why you don’t just go no contact.”

“She’s my mom,” you say simply. 

“Yeah and she treats you like garbage.”

“It’s not that bad. And I only see her once a month as it is.”

“Honey, I mean this with the greatest love and affection. But you’re an idiot for letting anyone treat you that way, whether they pushed you out of their body or not.”

“I know, I know. But seeing her once a month is definitely easier than dealing with the fallout of cutting her off. Trust me on this.”

Angie huffs and rolls her eyes, “ok, but try and not let her get into your head. It sounds crowded enough in there already,” she jokes, laughing as you throw a bread roll at her. 

///

That night, after dinner and a trip to the movies, you’re back at your house, Frankie sat on the sofa with you on your knees between his legs. He’s moaning in ecstasy as your tongue rolls around his shaft and your head bobs up and down. 

“Fuck baby, just like that, fuck yes,” he groans, his hand cradling your face as you continue to suck, eyes locked on his. Watching him as he watches you take him, eyes lidded, pupils blown, it has you dripping for him.

“Jesus, your mouth, your sweet fucking mouth,” he moans as his head tips back, another hearty moan escaping him as you take him deeper and start fondling his balls. “Jesus, you’re fucking killing me baby.”

He picks his head back up, finds your eyes again as you pull back, tongue stroking his underside as your lips drag over him. As you reach his head, you gently pull back his foreskin to run your tongue over his rosy, leaking tip before giving it a little kiss and lick, scooping up everything he’s leaking for you before taking him fully back into your mouth and resuming your rhythm. 

“Fucking minx,” he grumbles, “too fucking good at this baby, been dreaming about it all day.”

“Mmmmmm,” you hum around him in agreement, making his hips buck and burying him deeper into your mouth. 

“Fuck, sorry baby, just feels so good,” he apologises, stroking your cheek with his thumb, you hum around him again and take him even further, working him into your throat now, breathing through your nose and pushing, pushing until your nose is buried in that little thatch at his base that you love so much. He sees your eyes roll as you breathe him in and it breaks him, he twitches and spurts down your throat.

“Oh God baby, oh God, so fucking good, drink it down baby, drink it all down.”

You do. Gladly, pulling him just out of your throat so you can feel him pulse into your mouth, so you can taste his spend before swallowing it down. When he’s finished you slowly release him, making sure you clean up any errant cum that’s coating his shaft as you go. 

He’s looking at you in awe and you wish you had your phone handy to take a photo of him right now, so that you can always remember how you made him feel in that moment. 

He leans forward and gently cups your face, pulling you into a kiss. You eagerly accept his tongue, your hands finding his meaty biceps and copping a feel as you do. He’s so beefy and manly and his body drives you crazy. Your pussy is literally pulsing as you kiss and fondle him. And as always when he pulls away, it draws a pathetic whimper from you. He chuckles and rubs his nose against yours to pacify you. 

“C’mon baby, off the floor,” he tells you, helping you to your feet. You’re standing between his legs now, with him still sitting on the sofa. He reaches round and grabs you by the ass and buries his face into your chest. Your very much still clothed chest. And oh, how you want to feel him, his skin against yours. But when his hand sneaks up towards the zip on your dress your brain goes into overdrive. You can’t let this happen now. You’re in your comfy underwear as you’d met straight from work, you haven’t had chance to shower and shave, you can’t let him see you like this. And apart form all that you can hear in your head your mothers voice ringing, “so he dumped you huh? Guess it was only a matter of time.” Having only just told her about him, there’s no way you could face her tomorrow if he broke up with you now. Just once you’d like to get through a family meal without the withering tone of your mother and aunts telling you that you’ll never attract a man until you start to ‘take care of yourself,’ and they eye every morsel you bring to your mouth. 

You reach behind you and grab his arm, redirecting his hand to your breast. He gives it an appreciative squeeze and lifts his head to look at you with a soft smile and you can’t stand it. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

He’s on his feet, in seconds, pulling you into his arms. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he tells you as he cradles you and kisses your forehead. 

“I-” you start to protest and he shushes you with a kiss. 

“Nothing,” he reiterates when he pulls away, “ok?” 

“Ok,” you agree, unable to resist giving him another peck on the lips. 

“Good girl,” he tells you, “now drop those panties for me.”

You groan as your pussy throbs, rushing to obey his command. You shuffle your panties down until they fall at your ankles as he sinks to his knees now. You let him retrieve them himself as has become your ritual. He ever so gently lifts your calf and pulls one foot out of your soaked underwear, before repeating with the other side. He immediately buries his face in them and a wave off heat engulfs your body, the vibrations of his moan rocking you to your core. 

“Always smell so good baby, could wear you like cologne.”

Your body jerks with how hard you clench at the filthy thought of him wandering around smelling of pussy. Smelling of you, marked and claimed. Your legs almost give out beneath you as all the blood rushes to your centre. 

There are no thoughts in your head other than him as he guides you onto your back on the sofa, lying down next you, one arm looped under your shoulders to keep you close to him, the other sneaking under the hem of your dress and up your thigh. He presses his lips against yours and it’s far too wholesome to go along with how filthy and desperate you feel right now, every teasing  brush of his lips against yours drawing insensible little whines out of you that make him smile. That beautiful, lopsided smile that makes his whole face light up and you can’t decide if you want to slap him for his teasing or stuff your tongue down his throat. 

You gasp as his fingers brush over your clit, softly circling your sensitive little button until you think you’re spiralling into madness. You come after a few seconds having worked yourself up so much as you sucked him. Your head tips back as you groan and quiver and he wastes no time at all in latching his mouth to your throat, nibbling gently at the skin there. He keeps rubbing you, prolonging your orgasm until you go limp in his arms and pull his head back by his hair, making him groan, to kiss him on the lips again. With more fire than his sweet little kisses just a minute ago. He lets out an amused sound as he reciprocates, finally pushing his tongue into your mouth, his hand just cupping your pussy while you devour each other. You only break the kiss when you feel his fingers moving against you again, circling your entrance now and it’s your turn to let out a little chuckle, and murmur a little “insatiable,” against his lips. 

“Is this ok baby?” he asks as he dips just the very tip of his finger into you. 

“More than ok, please Frankie,” you beg him, loving how considerate he is and immediately feeling guilty that you can’t give him more. What he deserves. 

But that lopsided grin is back on his face as he pushes two fingers into you and your ability to think about anything other than the feel of him, the stretch, is completely stolen away. 

“There we go, good girl, take my fingers,” he coos at you, biting his lip when he feels your walls bearing down on him as he pushes in and out of you. You clutch at his shirt and moan, pushing your hips into his hand, wanting him deeper, harder. He’s happy to oblige, picking up the pace and fucking you harder with his middle and ring finger and drawing the sloppiest sounds out of your cunt. 

“Yes baby, hear how wet she is for me, this pussy is fucking magic baby, always so fucking ready for me.”

“Ah! Oh! Frankie! Ah, fuck! Fuck, Frankie!” is the only response you can manage as he keeps fucking into you, his face now down at your chest, nuzzling your clothed tits with his nose. 

“Can you take another one for me baby hmm? Can you take 3?”

You wail and nod your head, moments away from something spectacular. You hear him growl before he gives a quick bite to your nipple, “words baby,” he commands. You clench around him hard, that authoritative tone always driving you crazy. 

“Hnnnnn, yes, Frankie, yes,” you half yell as he winds you tighter and tighter. Then you feel it. His thick forefinger pushing its way inside you as well and as he reaches full penetration, you shatter, absolutely losing your mind in the pleasure as your pussy pulses and drools around him. You shriek his name in ecstasy and he keeps fucking you hard, singing your praises until you are once again flopped on the sofa, completely boneless and sated. 

He snuggles into you with a contented sigh, your cunt still wrapped tight around his fingers. You bury your fingers in his hair and gently scratch at his scalp and he practically purrs into your throat where his head is currently nestled. 

It doesn’t take long for the guilt to return. You can’t help but feel that he is too good for you. Part of you wishes he’d be harder on you. He’s making it too easy for you to hold back. And you’re going to lose him because of it. 

“Hmm c’mon baby, lets go to bed before I fall asleep right here,” he murmurs, finally removing his fingers from you. You nod your head in agreement, knowing your voice will give you away, will be thick with all the emotions and frustration that you’re holding it inside. And Frankie’s gentle admonitions and reassurances would only make you feel worse. 

He helps you off the sofa and give you a kiss before heading into the main bathroom as you scurry into the ensuite, grabbing your pjs as you go. You strip in the bathroom, purposely avoiding the mirror so you don’t catch a reminder of how gross you look. You quickly wash your face and brush your teeth before rushing into the bedroom and scrambling under the covers before Frankie comes in. Fact is, you hate wearing pjs to sleep. You’d prefer to sleep naked but that wasn’t going to happen with Frankie here, you were just very careful to make sure he didn’t catch too close a look at you in your sleep shorts. 

He comes in shortly after, stripped down to his boxers and the sight of him makes your mouth water. He’s so broad, his chest is smooth. His torso isn’t hugely defined but he’s not soft either. He’s strong from his intense military training, muscle built for utility rather than aesthetics. And that gorgeous trail of curls down his abdomen disappearing under his boxers. He’s so perfect. Not for the first time you wonder what it is he sees in you. He could have anyone. You try not to dwell on it as he climbs in next to you, pulling you into his arms to give you a goodnight kiss. You settle with him on his back and your head on his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart lull you to sleep. 

///

You’re late pulling up to the restaurant the next day for brunch with your mom, aunts and cousins because you couldn’t resist blowing Frankie again and there was no way he was letting you out of the house without making you come in return. He was dropping you off on his way to pick up his friend Santi from the airport and your plan had been to arrive early so that he would be long gone before any of your family spotted him. You were so not ready to introduce him to them but you were sabotaged by your own libido. Just as you pulled in you spotted your mom, aunt and cousin climbing out of their Uber. Frankie is unbuckled and out of his seat before you can protest, running round to open your door and help you down, unaware of the lurking danger. It’s too late to prevent it now, they’re marching over. 

Your cousin Daisy reaches you first, running over to give you a big hug, excitedly babbling at how excited she is about brunch. Newly 21, this is the first time she’s been allowed to join what always ends up being a boozy few hours. Your mom and aunt following at a more sedate pace, whispering together furiously as Daisy turns and offers her hand to Frankie.

“Frankie, this is my cousin Daisy, Daisy this is Frankie. My boyfriend.”

“It’s very nice to meet you Daisy,” Frankie says shaking her hand. 

“You too. Now I’d like to know what your intentions are with my favourite cousin.”

He laughs as you groan, “just ignore her please, she delights in embarrassing me,” but Frankie wraps his arm around your waist to give you a kiss on the cheek, before finally responding, “my intentions are pure, I promise.”

By now your mom and aunt Helen have arrived. Frankie reaches out a hand to each of them as you introduce them and Daisy mouths “he’s gorgeous,” and gives you a thumbs up behind his back and you roll your eyes at her. Your mom is being almost aggressively polite while her face remains stony. Meanwhile Helen coos over how handsome and strong he is, practically feeling him up as she runs a hand over his biceps. You want the ground to swallow you up. You need a drink. Pronto. 

“Will you be joining us for brunch?” Helen asks hopefully.

“No!” you practically shout, “Frankie is picking up his friend and he’s already late,” you turn to him, giving him an apologetic look, “you should go baby, don’t leave Santi waiting too long.” He smiles at you, leans in to give you a kiss before saying goodbye to everyone and promising to see you later. 

You wave him off before turning and reluctantly following your family into the restaurant, already knowing the next few hours are going to be torture. 

You’re proven right almost immediately, you’ve barely sat down before the older women start dissecting the whole interaction. 

“He’s handsome,” Helen sighs dreamily. 

“Mmm, a little too handsome. What’s the catch?” your mom asks as she unfolds her napkin. 

“What’s the catch with what?” your aunt Denise asks as she walks up to the table, offering cheek kisses to everyone before sitting down, her daughters Gabby and Amber following behind her. 

“Her boyfriend,” Helen fills her in, nodding towards you. 

“You met him? Spill!” Amber demands as she takes her seat.. 

“He’s so dreamy,” Helen gushes.

Your mother rolls her eyes, waving the waiter over to order a round of mimosas. “I’m not sure I trust him,” she announces.

“I’m confused,” Daisy says as she looks over the menu, “he seemed nice to me.”

“He is nice,” you try to defend him, studiously avoiding looking at your mother “better than nice actually, he’s amazing.”

“A man that good looking, still unattached at his age? He must have some serious baggage,” your mother pushes. “Is he employed? Has he asked you for money?”

“Yes he has a job mom, and no he’s never asked me for money. He’s not a grifter,” you snip, already wishing this brunch was over. 

“What does he do?” Gabby asks, trying to steer the conversation in a more positive direction. 

“He’s a helicopter pilot,” you tell her, not even trying to hide how proud you are, “he flies for the air ambulance.”

“Oh wow, thats amazing,” Daisy pipes in, “how did he get into that?”

“He was in the army, special forces,” you tell her. 

“Ah! There it is,” your mother exclaims, “probably has a trail of children in every place he was deployed. These army men are always so promiscuous.”

You take a deep breath, you’re well versed with your mothers nonsense. And normally you let it roll over you. But picking you apart is one thing, attacking Frankie’s character is another. 

“You know most moms would be happy that their kid has found someone who is kind and sweet and makes them happy. Not to mention being handsome and having a good job,” you gripe, holding yourself back from pointing out that for the last decade or so she’s been pushing you to find a man and settle down. Luckily the mimosas arrive and you take a big swig as you try to get your emotions under control 

“But, therein lies the problem,” she tells you as she takes a sip of her own drink, “a man that good looking, good job, no baggage would be snapped up in a heartbeat. Why would he settle?”

The unspoken “for you,” hangs in the air. You own mother thinks you aren’t good enough for him.

“You know, if he was that serious about her, he would have stayed for brunch, shown an interest in getting to know her family…” you mother ponders, almost as if to herself but you know better.

“He didn’t stay because he has to p-”

“Pick up his friend, yes, yes. Thats his story anyway.”

“What does that mean.”

“You know, there’s a girl at work,” your Aunt Denise chimes in, “was dating this guy for a few months, said he had some shift job so he couldn’t see her all the time, avoided meeting her family any time she brought it up, turns out he was married and had a family and was just keeping her on the side.”

“Frankie isn’t like that.”

She gives you a pitying look. “I’m just saying, you wouldn’t be the first woman to be used for sex.”

“Frankie isn’t using me for sex, we haven’t even had sex yet,” you bite back and immediately regret giving them that nugget of information. 

“I thought you’d been together a couple of months.”

“We have, just drop it ok.”

“2 months and he hasn’t slept with you, doesn’t want to spend time with your family. Doesn’t seem like he’s that interested at all. Probably best to end it yourself before he does.”

“Aunty thats cruel,” Daisy admonishes her as your head spins at the 180 the conversation has done from Frankie using you for sex to him not even being interested in you.

“I’m just being practical dear, you know how she gets when she’s heartbroken, all mopey and sullen, and we’ll be the ones dealing with the fall out. Not to mention she can’t really afford the extra weight that always piles on after being dumped.”

It’s the casual way she says it. Like it’s an inevitability. But can you really blame her for thinking these things when you’ve been thinking them yourself? You fight to hold back tears. You can’t even argue with her. She’s right. When Frankie finally comes to his senses, it will break you.

You quietly stand, “I’m gona go,” you tell the table as you pick up your purse, your voice quiet as you try to hold back the emotion. You know she will be unaffected by it. 

“Oh sit down, and stop being dramatic. You’re always so sensitive.”

“Stop it aunty,” Daisy rebukes her as she gets out of her seat to give you a hug. It’s the last thing you want right now. Someone showing you kindness when you’re on the brink of a meltdown is usually what shoves you over the edge. You take a deep breath and hold it as you give her a quick squeeze back before pushing her away. 

“Please don’t go, it’s my first brunch,” she begs, “we can change the subject and talk about anything you want.”

But you know thats not true. Now that they have the bit between their teeth, this will be the only topic of conversation for the whole meal. Your hands are curled into fists, fingernails biting into your palms as you try to hold it together. 

“I’m sorry Daisy, hope you have fun, I’ll see you next month,” you tell her before turning and walking away, refusing to look back. You hear Helen behind you, “do you always have to be so hard on her?” You quicken your steps to avoid having to hear your mothers response. 

You walk a couple of blocks over before finally letting the tears fall, trying to order an Uber as your hands shake. You get a fair few funny looks from the people passing by but thankfully no one stops to see if you’re ok. The kindness of strangers is really not what you need right now. 

You sniffle your way through the journey home but as soon as the door closes behind you, you collapse on to the sofa and let yourself fall apart. The rational, sane part of your brain is telling you that what they said isn't true. That Frankie has shown you time and time again that he is serious about you. That he treats you well and is interested in you as a person, that he’s willing to go the extra mile for you. And that he is willing to go at your own pace. But the twisted voice in your head tells you that if he was really interested in sleeping with you, he’d be pushing you more to do it. And now another ugly thought rears its head. Is the reason he’s not pushing you to sleep with him because he’s getting sex elsewhere? 

You try to bury that voice as soon as it pops up. Frankie isn’t like that. That’s just your mom talking. You know him and you trust him. You’d already had a conversation about exclusivity, about a whole bunch of things that wouldn’t need to be discussed with someone you’re not serious about. You’d both agreed to get tested before advancing your physical relationship, both panels thankfully coming back clean. You’d talked about birth control, and and agreed that you would get an implant, back when you assumed you had the ability to progress this relationship like a normal adult. You’d talked about your goals, your dreams, your hopes for the future. It wasn’t something you’d ever done with a man before. You refused to believe it was all made up. Frankie had never given you any reason to doubt him. So you wouldn’t. You just needed to bite the bullet and get it over with. Get the first time out of the way. 

Not for the first time, you wished Frankie would push harder to get you there. Force you. Show you that he’s desperate for you as well. You feel sick as soon as the thought comes. Frankie would never hurt you like that. He’s the sweetest man you know and his integrity is one of the things you love most about him. He really does deserve better than someone wishing him to be worse instead of improving themself. You don’t deserve him. Maybe your mom is right. Maybe you just need to cut your losses now before he finds out how awful you really are. 

///

By the time Frankie arrives later that evening you’re completely spiralling. You can’t even look at him after the awful thoughts you had earlier. How could you ever want to push this sweet man to that? And Frankie is beside himself trying to figure out what has happened to have you so upset. He’s on his knees as you sit on the sofa, whimpering and sniffling and desperately trying to keep a hold of yourself. You know if you look at him now you’ll see his beautiful face twisted in anguish and it builds the hatred you feel for yourself to new heights. Your brain is firing at 100mph, you don’t know what to do, what to say, how to feel. You just wish you could turn your brain off for 5 minutes. Empty out all of your thoughts and arrange them into neat piles you could sort through and categorise. 

“Baby, please talk to me,” Frankie begs, his hands cupped around yours in your lap. “Please baby, I can’t bear to see you this way, please tell me what happened, did someone hurt you?”

He’s starting to sound frantic and you know you have to say something, anything. Your mouth opens and words start tumbling out.

“I had a fight with my mom. She said the most horrible things About you and about me and she thinks I’m not good enough for you, and she’s right. I’ve been a terrible girlfriend and-”

“What?! No baby, don’t say that, you’re an amazing girlfriend, I’m so lucky to have you.” He cups your face and turns you towards him.

You’re crying now and you’re so ashamed and so embarrassed but the dam has broken and your mouth is forming words before you can even stop yourself, slipping out in a stream of consciousness that your brain is half a step behind in interpreting.

“I’m so sorry Frankie, I want you so badly but every time we even come close there’s just so much noise in my head and I can’t stop it and it tells me that the second you see me, really see me, it’ll all be over and I’ll lose you and if you go anyway because I can’t do it that it’ll hurt less than you not wanting me for how I look, and you’re always so kind and so understanding and I hate it that I can’t be good enough for you, and sometimes I just wish that you’d force me and get it over with and I know you won’t because you’re so good and that’s such an awful thing to do.” 

You finally manage to get your mouth under control and suck in a huge breath to make up for not breathing once through your whole rambled speech. And you take one small glance at Frankie’s face, enough to register his shock, and you break down immediately, mortified at what you’ve just admitted to him. All those awful thoughts that have been bubbling away, drawn to the surface after your awful afternoon, now given voice and unable to be retracted. You’re disgusted with yourself.  

“I’m so sorry Frankie,” you sniffle, completely dejected, “I hope you find someone who deserves you.”

“Wait, you’re breaking up with me?” he blurts, suddenly animated after his stillness in the wake of your confession, pushing to his feet and pacing back and forth in front of you.

“I kind of thought you’d want to break up with me after what I just admitted,” you huff quietly as your heart breaks. 

“No, no, no.” Frankie rushes to you, pulling you up into his arms and crushing you against his chest for a moment before turning with you still in his arms and sitting on the sofa, trying to pull you down with him to straddle his lap. You struggle a little against him. 

“Frankie I’m too heavy,” you protest as he pulls you down, arms locked tight around you. 

“Settle,” he commands in that tone that makes you melt. Which is exactly what happens, your body relaxes but you manage to hold most of your weight on your knees to avoid crushing him under your body. 

He pinches your chin between his finger and thumb and makes you look at him, as his other hand skates down your back to your hip, applying gentle pressure to guide you to sink down onto him fully. 

“Sit baby, it’s ok.”

“Frankie,” you mewl, a final attempt at protest. “I said sit, baby.”

You do. You slump down onto him and he cradles the back of your head, guiding it onto his chest as his other arm holds you close. He kisses you on the forehead and gently rocks you until your cries die down. 

And you love it. Being held by him like this. Being enveloped in him. Even after he’s seen you at your very worst. Another meltdown, a terrible confession, and still, he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. Even though you must be absolutely crushing him. A small spark of hope lights in your chest that you haven’t ruined the best thing thats ever happened to you. It is quickly dashed when Frankie says, “I think we need to have a talk baby.”

You take a deep breath. You really don’t want to talk about it. You want to agree just to forget it ever happened. But you know thats not fair with everything you’ve just dumped on him. 

So you swallow and nod and try to sit up more fully so you can look at him properly but he just holds you tighter and kisses your forehead again to keep you still and instead angles your head a little so he can look you in the eye. 

“I don’t ever want to hear you say that you’re a bad girlfriend again baby, especially not because you haven’t been ready to have sex yet.”

You open your mouth to respond but he shuts you up with a peck on the lips, “let me talk baby,” he commands and you nod and steal another quick kiss for good measure making him smile. The sight of it eases some of the tension in your chest and allows you to take a deep, calming breath. 

“I need you to know I think you have the sexiest body baby, all those beautiful curves, drives me mad.” He punctuates his statement with a gentle squeeze of your butt cheek and another little smirk. “But you’re so much more than your body. You are so kind and sweet and smart. You take the best care of me baby and I love being around you. You make everything feel lighter and brighter. You’re my sunshine baby and you’re the only person I want.” 

You take another breath and address the elephant in the room. “Even after what I said? About wanting you to force me?”

He kisses you again. “You know I would never do that and I don’t think you really want it. I think what you want is to hand over control, let your brain switch off a little, does that sound right?”

You nod, “yes! My head gets so jumbled and I overthink and I panic and I just want you to tell me what to do.” You bury your head in his chest. You feel so raw and vulnerable and you need to not look at him for a moment. 

His hand soothes up and down your spine until you turn to look at him again. 

“Have you ever done anything like this? Giving up control?” he asks and you shake you head. “Ok, well I need you to understand, giving me control isn’t about me making you do something you’re not ready for. It’s about me taking the decisions out of your hands within agreed boundaries and letting your brain go quiet so you can actually sort through your feelings. Does that sound good?”

“Yes Frankie, that sounds amazing.” The thought of having relief from the constant barrage of intrusive thoughts makes you want to cry again. But with joy this time. 

“Good girl. Tomorrow, we’re going to have a proper discussion about boundaries and limits and things you’d be open to trying but for right now I think we need to try and give you a little peace within your own head, how does that sound?”

“Perfect,” you hum, feeling an odd mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration. 

“Now, I think I have an idea of how we can do that but it’s a little intense. So before we start, I need you to understand, I have control but you have the power. You want me to stop, we stop, no questions, no repercussions. Do you understand?”

“Yes Frankie.”

“Tell me.”

“I want to stop, we stop.”

“Good girl. Now tell me. Have you ever been spanked?”

///

I don’t even know how you manage to write him so perfectly but he makes my heart melt and my knees weak every single time, I love him your honor 😭♥️

And this was such a good part, I loved the smut at the beginning, oral was 10/10 (description of Frankie’s cock alone could get me off - here I said it 🤭🤭🤭) and Frankie fingering her??? Hello??? 911? I have an emergency, I’m about to burst 🥵🥵🥵

And then I loved how sweet he was with her and how he tried to calm her down, he’s so considerate and tender and made me tear up 🥹🥹🥹

I’m so deeply sorry she’s still struggling with her appearance because I know she’s gorgeous and funny and smart and she has such a good heart and Frankie is 100% right, he’s lucky to have her ♥️

I understand her relationship with her mom more than I would like to do, UGH she’s the worse and how dare she judging her and Frankie, she knows nothing about him goddammit, I’m so mad at her 💀 give me five minutes with this woman, I’ll put her back in her place 😤

Angie is such a delight as usual and I totally agree with her!

I want to hug reader so badly and tell her she deserves everything and especially to be loved and cared and desired for what she is, there’s nothing wrong with her ♥️

And the ending? Oh my god? Spanking? I’m so excited, you have no idea, I’m already frothing at the mouth at the thought 🤤🤤🤤

I loved this so much, thank you for sharing this amazing story with us, darling, you’re doing an amazing job with them! 😍😍😍

You dramatically slump yourself over the small table in the diner, “what is wrong with me?!” you groan, lightly banging your forehead against the surface.

“I take it things didn’t go to plan last night?” Angie asks, trying not to laugh at your theatrics.

“Not quite,” you mumble, pushing yourself back up to a seated position.

It’s been 2 months since your first date with Frankie and everything is amazing. Except for one thing. You still haven’t been able to bring yourself to sleep with him. 

Things have progressed from strictly phone sex. Not that you still don’t indulge in that on the regular, especially after he’s worked a long shift and he calls you, exhausted but never too tired to hear about your day. It always inevitably ends up with you knuckle deep in your pussy as he tells you all the dirty thoughts he’s having. 

You’ve sucked his dick more than a few times and watching him come undone because of you is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever seen. It has left you with somewhat of an oral fixation, and you often find yourself daydreaming about taking him in your mouth and sucking him dry. It doesn’t hurt that he has one of the prettiest dicks you’ve ever seen in your life. Long and girthy and uncut, smooth as velvet, nestled in a bed of dark hair at the base. Hair that you just love to nuzzle and bury your nose in, his unique Frankie smell so concentrated there. You could get high on it. 

And you’ve let him inside you, with his fingers at least. Your panties are often stolen away by him. It happens so often now that you’ve taken to only wearing skirts and dresses around him to facilitate his blatant theft, but skirts and dresses always remain in place as he squeezes his thick fingers inside you and blasts you to ecstasy. 

It’s not that you don’t want to take things to the next level. As good as he fingers you and as much as you love having his cock in your mouth, your pussy drools at the thought of taking him. At how good he will stretch you and how far inside he’ll reach. You’re desperate for it. But also terrified. You know you don’t need to be naked to have sex but Frankie seems to have taken your refusal to shed your clothes as a sign that you’re not ready yet. And he’s insistent that things will go no further until you are. He never pressures you. But you can see the disappointment in his face every time you flinch when he tries to remove an article of clothing. It’s quickly hidden and he moves on but you hate how pathetic you are. But no matter how much you talk yourself up to it beforehand, when the moment arrives the panic sets in. You know that he can see you’re not svelte like all the models you see on social media and tv even with your clothes on, but the fact is you can’t understand what it is he sees in you. A man like Frankie could easily bag himself a woman like that. And him realising he could do better after he’s seen you naked would be a blow to your psyche that you’d never recover from. 

A part of you has wondered once or twice if it’s just the chase that has him on the hook now. That even if he isn’t repulsed by your body, that once he’s had you the thrill will be gone and he’ll move on. Something which prompted Angie to tell you that you needed your head seeing to. She’s been trying her best to help hype you up, trying to bolster your confidence but last night had been another in a long list of failures. 

“Look, you’re just putting too much pressure on it. You need to stop thinking about it so much and let it happen naturally.”

“What if I can’t ever bring myself to though? He’s not going to wait around forever.”

“See that’s what I’m talking about. You need to stop thinking in absolutes. You just need to give your confidence time to catch up with what your brain has already figured out.”

“And what has my brain figured out?”

“That Frankie is not like all those other losers you’ve been with and worships the ground you walk on. You don’t need to rush this.”

And deep down you know she’s right. Frankie has proven to you time and time again that he is kind and caring and trustworthy. It only the critical voices in your head - the ones that sound an awful lot like your mother, would get the memo. Speaking of which…

“Well if confidence is what it’s gona take we can write off this weekend, I’m having brunch with my mom.”

Angie grimaces at you, well aware of your fractious relationship with your family. 

“I can call you and pretend I’m having an emergency?” she offers.

You snort, “you assume that she would care enough about anyone else to consider that a good enough reason for me to bail.”

Angie snickers along with you, her sympathy for your mother non-existent with the number of times she’s seen her tear you down. 

“I still don’t get why you don’t just go no contact.”

“She’s my mom,” you say simply. 

“Yeah and she treats you like garbage.”

“It’s not that bad. And I only see her once a month as it is.”

“Honey, I mean this with the greatest love and affection. But you’re an idiot for letting anyone treat you that way, whether they pushed you out of their body or not.”

“I know, I know. But seeing her once a month is definitely easier than dealing with the fallout of cutting her off. Trust me on this.”

Angie huffs and rolls her eyes, “ok, but try and not let her get into your head. It sounds crowded enough in there already,” she jokes, laughing as you throw a bread roll at her. 

///

That night, after dinner and a trip to the movies, you’re back at your house, Frankie sat on the sofa with you on your knees between his legs. He’s moaning in ecstasy as your tongue rolls around his shaft and your head bobs up and down. 

“Fuck baby, just like that, fuck yes,” he groans, his hand cradling your face as you continue to suck, eyes locked on his. Watching him as he watches you take him, eyes lidded, pupils blown, it has you dripping for him.

“Jesus, your mouth, your sweet fucking mouth,” he moans as his head tips back, another hearty moan escaping him as you take him deeper and start fondling his balls. “Jesus, you’re fucking killing me baby.”

He picks his head back up, finds your eyes again as you pull back, tongue stroking his underside as your lips drag over him. As you reach his head, you gently pull back his foreskin to run your tongue over his rosy, leaking tip before giving it a little kiss and lick, scooping up everything he’s leaking for you before taking him fully back into your mouth and resuming your rhythm. 

“Fucking minx,” he grumbles, “too fucking good at this baby, been dreaming about it all day.”

“Mmmmmm,” you hum around him in agreement, making his hips buck and burying him deeper into your mouth. 

“Fuck, sorry baby, just feels so good,” he apologises, stroking your cheek with his thumb, you hum around him again and take him even further, working him into your throat now, breathing through your nose and pushing, pushing until your nose is buried in that little thatch at his base that you love so much. He sees your eyes roll as you breathe him in and it breaks him, he twitches and spurts down your throat.

“Oh God baby, oh God, so fucking good, drink it down baby, drink it all down.”

You do. Gladly, pulling him just out of your throat so you can feel him pulse into your mouth, so you can taste his spend before swallowing it down. When he’s finished you slowly release him, making sure you clean up any errant cum that’s coating his shaft as you go. 

He’s looking at you in awe and you wish you had your phone handy to take a photo of him right now, so that you can always remember how you made him feel in that moment. 

He leans forward and gently cups your face, pulling you into a kiss. You eagerly accept his tongue, your hands finding his meaty biceps and copping a feel as you do. He’s so beefy and manly and his body drives you crazy. Your pussy is literally pulsing as you kiss and fondle him. And as always when he pulls away, it draws a pathetic whimper from you. He chuckles and rubs his nose against yours to pacify you. 

“C’mon baby, off the floor,” he tells you, helping you to your feet. You’re standing between his legs now, with him still sitting on the sofa. He reaches round and grabs you by the ass and buries his face into your chest. Your very much still clothed chest. And oh, how you want to feel him, his skin against yours. But when his hand sneaks up towards the zip on your dress your brain goes into overdrive. You can’t let this happen now. You’re in your comfy underwear as you’d met straight from work, you haven’t had chance to shower and shave, you can’t let him see you like this. And apart form all that you can hear in your head your mothers voice ringing, “so he dumped you huh? Guess it was only a matter of time.” Having only just told her about him, there’s no way you could face her tomorrow if he broke up with you now. Just once you’d like to get through a family meal without the withering tone of your mother and aunts telling you that you’ll never attract a man until you start to ‘take care of yourself,’ and they eye every morsel you bring to your mouth. 

You reach behind you and grab his arm, redirecting his hand to your breast. He gives it an appreciative squeeze and lifts his head to look at you with a soft smile and you can’t stand it. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

He’s on his feet, in seconds, pulling you into his arms. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he tells you as he cradles you and kisses your forehead. 

“I-” you start to protest and he shushes you with a kiss. 

“Nothing,” he reiterates when he pulls away, “ok?” 

“Ok,” you agree, unable to resist giving him another peck on the lips. 

“Good girl,” he tells you, “now drop those panties for me.”

You groan as your pussy throbs, rushing to obey his command. You shuffle your panties down until they fall at your ankles as he sinks to his knees now. You let him retrieve them himself as has become your ritual. He ever so gently lifts your calf and pulls one foot out of your soaked underwear, before repeating with the other side. He immediately buries his face in them and a wave off heat engulfs your body, the vibrations of his moan rocking you to your core. 

“Always smell so good baby, could wear you like cologne.”

Your body jerks with how hard you clench at the filthy thought of him wandering around smelling of pussy. Smelling of you, marked and claimed. Your legs almost give out beneath you as all the blood rushes to your centre. 

There are no thoughts in your head other than him as he guides you onto your back on the sofa, lying down next you, one arm looped under your shoulders to keep you close to him, the other sneaking under the hem of your dress and up your thigh. He presses his lips against yours and it’s far too wholesome to go along with how filthy and desperate you feel right now, every teasing  brush of his lips against yours drawing insensible little whines out of you that make him smile. That beautiful, lopsided smile that makes his whole face light up and you can’t decide if you want to slap him for his teasing or stuff your tongue down his throat. 

You gasp as his fingers brush over your clit, softly circling your sensitive little button until you think you’re spiralling into madness. You come after a few seconds having worked yourself up so much as you sucked him. Your head tips back as you groan and quiver and he wastes no time at all in latching his mouth to your throat, nibbling gently at the skin there. He keeps rubbing you, prolonging your orgasm until you go limp in his arms and pull his head back by his hair, making him groan, to kiss him on the lips again. With more fire than his sweet little kisses just a minute ago. He lets out an amused sound as he reciprocates, finally pushing his tongue into your mouth, his hand just cupping your pussy while you devour each other. You only break the kiss when you feel his fingers moving against you again, circling your entrance now and it’s your turn to let out a little chuckle, and murmur a little “insatiable,” against his lips. 

“Is this ok baby?” he asks as he dips just the very tip of his finger into you. 

“More than ok, please Frankie,” you beg him, loving how considerate he is and immediately feeling guilty that you can’t give him more. What he deserves. 

But that lopsided grin is back on his face as he pushes two fingers into you and your ability to think about anything other than the feel of him, the stretch, is completely stolen away. 

“There we go, good girl, take my fingers,” he coos at you, biting his lip when he feels your walls bearing down on him as he pushes in and out of you. You clutch at his shirt and moan, pushing your hips into his hand, wanting him deeper, harder. He’s happy to oblige, picking up the pace and fucking you harder with his middle and ring finger and drawing the sloppiest sounds out of your cunt. 

“Yes baby, hear how wet she is for me, this pussy is fucking magic baby, always so fucking ready for me.”

“Ah! Oh! Frankie! Ah, fuck! Fuck, Frankie!” is the only response you can manage as he keeps fucking into you, his face now down at your chest, nuzzling your clothed tits with his nose. 

“Can you take another one for me baby hmm? Can you take 3?”

You wail and nod your head, moments away from something spectacular. You hear him growl before he gives a quick bite to your nipple, “words baby,” he commands. You clench around him hard, that authoritative tone always driving you crazy. 

“Hnnnnn, yes, Frankie, yes,” you half yell as he winds you tighter and tighter. Then you feel it. His thick forefinger pushing its way inside you as well and as he reaches full penetration, you shatter, absolutely losing your mind in the pleasure as your pussy pulses and drools around him. You shriek his name in ecstasy and he keeps fucking you hard, singing your praises until you are once again flopped on the sofa, completely boneless and sated. 

He snuggles into you with a contented sigh, your cunt still wrapped tight around his fingers. You bury your fingers in his hair and gently scratch at his scalp and he practically purrs into your throat where his head is currently nestled. 

It doesn’t take long for the guilt to return. You can’t help but feel that he is too good for you. Part of you wishes he’d be harder on you. He’s making it too easy for you to hold back. And you’re going to lose him because of it. 

“Hmm c’mon baby, lets go to bed before I fall asleep right here,” he murmurs, finally removing his fingers from you. You nod your head in agreement, knowing your voice will give you away, will be thick with all the emotions and frustration that you’re holding it inside. And Frankie’s gentle admonitions and reassurances would only make you feel worse. 

He helps you off the sofa and give you a kiss before heading into the main bathroom as you scurry into the ensuite, grabbing your pjs as you go. You strip in the bathroom, purposely avoiding the mirror so you don’t catch a reminder of how gross you look. You quickly wash your face and brush your teeth before rushing into the bedroom and scrambling under the covers before Frankie comes in. Fact is, you hate wearing pjs to sleep. You’d prefer to sleep naked but that wasn’t going to happen with Frankie here, you were just very careful to make sure he didn’t catch too close a look at you in your sleep shorts. 

He comes in shortly after, stripped down to his boxers and the sight of him makes your mouth water. He’s so broad, his chest is smooth. His torso isn’t hugely defined but he’s not soft either. He’s strong from his intense military training, muscle built for utility rather than aesthetics. And that gorgeous trail of curls down his abdomen disappearing under his boxers. He’s so perfect. Not for the first time you wonder what it is he sees in you. He could have anyone. You try not to dwell on it as he climbs in next to you, pulling you into his arms to give you a goodnight kiss. You settle with him on his back and your head on his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart lull you to sleep. 

///

You’re late pulling up to the restaurant the next day for brunch with your mom, aunts and cousins because you couldn’t resist blowing Frankie again and there was no way he was letting you out of the house without making you come in return. He was dropping you off on his way to pick up his friend Santi from the airport and your plan had been to arrive early so that he would be long gone before any of your family spotted him. You were so not ready to introduce him to them but you were sabotaged by your own libido. Just as you pulled in you spotted your mom, aunt and cousin climbing out of their Uber. Frankie is unbuckled and out of his seat before you can protest, running round to open your door and help you down, unaware of the lurking danger. It’s too late to prevent it now, they’re marching over. 

Your cousin Daisy reaches you first, running over to give you a big hug, excitedly babbling at how excited she is about brunch. Newly 21, this is the first time she’s been allowed to join what always ends up being a boozy few hours. Your mom and aunt following at a more sedate pace, whispering together furiously as Daisy turns and offers her hand to Frankie.

“Frankie, this is my cousin Daisy, Daisy this is Frankie. My boyfriend.”

“It’s very nice to meet you Daisy,” Frankie says shaking her hand. 

“You too. Now I’d like to know what your intentions are with my favourite cousin.”

He laughs as you groan, “just ignore her please, she delights in embarrassing me,” but Frankie wraps his arm around your waist to give you a kiss on the cheek, before finally responding, “my intentions are pure, I promise.”

By now your mom and aunt Helen have arrived. Frankie reaches out a hand to each of them as you introduce them and Daisy mouths “he’s gorgeous,” and gives you a thumbs up behind his back and you roll your eyes at her. Your mom is being almost aggressively polite while her face remains stony. Meanwhile Helen coos over how handsome and strong he is, practically feeling him up as she runs a hand over his biceps. You want the ground to swallow you up. You need a drink. Pronto. 

“Will you be joining us for brunch?” Helen asks hopefully.

“No!” you practically shout, “Frankie is picking up his friend and he’s already late,” you turn to him, giving him an apologetic look, “you should go baby, don’t leave Santi waiting too long.” He smiles at you, leans in to give you a kiss before saying goodbye to everyone and promising to see you later. 

You wave him off before turning and reluctantly following your family into the restaurant, already knowing the next few hours are going to be torture. 

You’re proven right almost immediately, you’ve barely sat down before the older women start dissecting the whole interaction. 

“He’s handsome,” Helen sighs dreamily. 

“Mmm, a little too handsome. What’s the catch?” your mom asks as she unfolds her napkin. 

“What’s the catch with what?” your aunt Denise asks as she walks up to the table, offering cheek kisses to everyone before sitting down, her daughters Gabby and Amber following behind her. 

“Her boyfriend,” Helen fills her in, nodding towards you. 

“You met him? Spill!” Amber demands as she takes her seat.. 

“He’s so dreamy,” Helen gushes.

Your mother rolls her eyes, waving the waiter over to order a round of mimosas. “I’m not sure I trust him,” she announces.

“I’m confused,” Daisy says as she looks over the menu, “he seemed nice to me.”

“He is nice,” you try to defend him, studiously avoiding looking at your mother “better than nice actually, he’s amazing.”

“A man that good looking, still unattached at his age? He must have some serious baggage,” your mother pushes. “Is he employed? Has he asked you for money?”

“Yes he has a job mom, and no he’s never asked me for money. He’s not a grifter,” you snip, already wishing this brunch was over. 

“What does he do?” Gabby asks, trying to steer the conversation in a more positive direction. 

“He’s a helicopter pilot,” you tell her, not even trying to hide how proud you are, “he flies for the air ambulance.”

“Oh wow, thats amazing,” Daisy pipes in, “how did he get into that?”

“He was in the army, special forces,” you tell her. 

“Ah! There it is,” your mother exclaims, “probably has a trail of children in every place he was deployed. These army men are always so promiscuous.”

You take a deep breath, you’re well versed with your mothers nonsense. And normally you let it roll over you. But picking you apart is one thing, attacking Frankie’s character is another. 

“You know most moms would be happy that their kid has found someone who is kind and sweet and makes them happy. Not to mention being handsome and having a good job,” you gripe, holding yourself back from pointing out that for the last decade or so she’s been pushing you to find a man and settle down. Luckily the mimosas arrive and you take a big swig as you try to get your emotions under control 

“But, therein lies the problem,” she tells you as she takes a sip of her own drink, “a man that good looking, good job, no baggage would be snapped up in a heartbeat. Why would he settle?”

The unspoken “for you,” hangs in the air. You own mother thinks you aren’t good enough for him.

“You know, if he was that serious about her, he would have stayed for brunch, shown an interest in getting to know her family…” you mother ponders, almost as if to herself but you know better.

“He didn’t stay because he has to p-”

“Pick up his friend, yes, yes. Thats his story anyway.”

“What does that mean.”

“You know, there’s a girl at work,” your Aunt Denise chimes in, “was dating this guy for a few months, said he had some shift job so he couldn’t see her all the time, avoided meeting her family any time she brought it up, turns out he was married and had a family and was just keeping her on the side.”

“Frankie isn’t like that.”

She gives you a pitying look. “I’m just saying, you wouldn’t be the first woman to be used for sex.”

“Frankie isn’t using me for sex, we haven’t even had sex yet,” you bite back and immediately regret giving them that nugget of information. 

“I thought you’d been together a couple of months.”

“We have, just drop it ok.”

“2 months and he hasn’t slept with you, doesn’t want to spend time with your family. Doesn’t seem like he’s that interested at all. Probably best to end it yourself before he does.”

“Aunty thats cruel,” Daisy admonishes her as your head spins at the 180 the conversation has done from Frankie using you for sex to him not even being interested in you.

“I’m just being practical dear, you know how she gets when she’s heartbroken, all mopey and sullen, and we’ll be the ones dealing with the fall out. Not to mention she can’t really afford the extra weight that always piles on after being dumped.”

It’s the casual way she says it. Like it’s an inevitability. But can you really blame her for thinking these things when you’ve been thinking them yourself? You fight to hold back tears. You can’t even argue with her. She’s right. When Frankie finally comes to his senses, it will break you.

You quietly stand, “I’m gona go,” you tell the table as you pick up your purse, your voice quiet as you try to hold back the emotion. You know she will be unaffected by it. 

“Oh sit down, and stop being dramatic. You’re always so sensitive.”

“Stop it aunty,” Daisy rebukes her as she gets out of her seat to give you a hug. It’s the last thing you want right now. Someone showing you kindness when you’re on the brink of a meltdown is usually what shoves you over the edge. You take a deep breath and hold it as you give her a quick squeeze back before pushing her away. 

“Please don’t go, it’s my first brunch,” she begs, “we can change the subject and talk about anything you want.”

But you know thats not true. Now that they have the bit between their teeth, this will be the only topic of conversation for the whole meal. Your hands are curled into fists, fingernails biting into your palms as you try to hold it together. 

“I’m sorry Daisy, hope you have fun, I’ll see you next month,” you tell her before turning and walking away, refusing to look back. You hear Helen behind you, “do you always have to be so hard on her?” You quicken your steps to avoid having to hear your mothers response. 

You walk a couple of blocks over before finally letting the tears fall, trying to order an Uber as your hands shake. You get a fair few funny looks from the people passing by but thankfully no one stops to see if you’re ok. The kindness of strangers is really not what you need right now. 

You sniffle your way through the journey home but as soon as the door closes behind you, you collapse on to the sofa and let yourself fall apart. The rational, sane part of your brain is telling you that what they said isn't true. That Frankie has shown you time and time again that he is serious about you. That he treats you well and is interested in you as a person, that he’s willing to go the extra mile for you. And that he is willing to go at your own pace. But the twisted voice in your head tells you that if he was really interested in sleeping with you, he’d be pushing you more to do it. And now another ugly thought rears its head. Is the reason he’s not pushing you to sleep with him because he’s getting sex elsewhere? 

You try to bury that voice as soon as it pops up. Frankie isn’t like that. That’s just your mom talking. You know him and you trust him. You’d already had a conversation about exclusivity, about a whole bunch of things that wouldn’t need to be discussed with someone you’re not serious about. You’d both agreed to get tested before advancing your physical relationship, both panels thankfully coming back clean. You’d talked about birth control, and and agreed that you would get an implant, back when you assumed you had the ability to progress this relationship like a normal adult. You’d talked about your goals, your dreams, your hopes for the future. It wasn’t something you’d ever done with a man before. You refused to believe it was all made up. Frankie had never given you any reason to doubt him. So you wouldn’t. You just needed to bite the bullet and get it over with. Get the first time out of the way. 

Not for the first time, you wished Frankie would push harder to get you there. Force you. Show you that he’s desperate for you as well. You feel sick as soon as the thought comes. Frankie would never hurt you like that. He’s the sweetest man you know and his integrity is one of the things you love most about him. He really does deserve better than someone wishing him to be worse instead of improving themself. You don’t deserve him. Maybe your mom is right. Maybe you just need to cut your losses now before he finds out how awful you really are. 

///

By the time Frankie arrives later that evening you’re completely spiralling. You can’t even look at him after the awful thoughts you had earlier. How could you ever want to push this sweet man to that? And Frankie is beside himself trying to figure out what has happened to have you so upset. He’s on his knees as you sit on the sofa, whimpering and sniffling and desperately trying to keep a hold of yourself. You know if you look at him now you’ll see his beautiful face twisted in anguish and it builds the hatred you feel for yourself to new heights. Your brain is firing at 100mph, you don’t know what to do, what to say, how to feel. You just wish you could turn your brain off for 5 minutes. Empty out all of your thoughts and arrange them into neat piles you could sort through and categorise. 

“Baby, please talk to me,” Frankie begs, his hands cupped around yours in your lap. “Please baby, I can’t bear to see you this way, please tell me what happened, did someone hurt you?”

He’s starting to sound frantic and you know you have to say something, anything. Your mouth opens and words start tumbling out.

“I had a fight with my mom. She said the most horrible things About you and about me and she thinks I’m not good enough for you, and she’s right. I’ve been a terrible girlfriend and-”

“What?! No baby, don’t say that, you’re an amazing girlfriend, I’m so lucky to have you.” He cups your face and turns you towards him.

You’re crying now and you’re so ashamed and so embarrassed but the dam has broken and your mouth is forming words before you can even stop yourself, slipping out in a stream of consciousness that your brain is half a step behind in interpreting.

“I’m so sorry Frankie, I want you so badly but every time we even come close there’s just so much noise in my head and I can’t stop it and it tells me that the second you see me, really see me, it’ll all be over and I’ll lose you and if you go anyway because I can’t do it that it’ll hurt less than you not wanting me for how I look, and you’re always so kind and so understanding and I hate it that I can’t be good enough for you, and sometimes I just wish that you’d force me and get it over with and I know you won’t because you’re so good and that’s such an awful thing to do.” 

You finally manage to get your mouth under control and suck in a huge breath to make up for not breathing once through your whole rambled speech. And you take one small glance at Frankie’s face, enough to register his shock, and you break down immediately, mortified at what you’ve just admitted to him. All those awful thoughts that have been bubbling away, drawn to the surface after your awful afternoon, now given voice and unable to be retracted. You’re disgusted with yourself.  

“I’m so sorry Frankie,” you sniffle, completely dejected, “I hope you find someone who deserves you.”

“Wait, you’re breaking up with me?” he blurts, suddenly animated after his stillness in the wake of your confession, pushing to his feet and pacing back and forth in front of you.

“I kind of thought you’d want to break up with me after what I just admitted,” you huff quietly as your heart breaks. 

“No, no, no.” Frankie rushes to you, pulling you up into his arms and crushing you against his chest for a moment before turning with you still in his arms and sitting on the sofa, trying to pull you down with him to straddle his lap. You struggle a little against him. 

“Frankie I’m too heavy,” you protest as he pulls you down, arms locked tight around you. 

“Settle,” he commands in that tone that makes you melt. Which is exactly what happens, your body relaxes but you manage to hold most of your weight on your knees to avoid crushing him under your body. 

He pinches your chin between his finger and thumb and makes you look at him, as his other hand skates down your back to your hip, applying gentle pressure to guide you to sink down onto him fully. 

“Sit baby, it’s ok.”

“Frankie,” you mewl, a final attempt at protest. “I said sit, baby.”

You do. You slump down onto him and he cradles the back of your head, guiding it onto his chest as his other arm holds you close. He kisses you on the forehead and gently rocks you until your cries die down. 

And you love it. Being held by him like this. Being enveloped in him. Even after he’s seen you at your very worst. Another meltdown, a terrible confession, and still, he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. Even though you must be absolutely crushing him. A small spark of hope lights in your chest that you haven’t ruined the best thing thats ever happened to you. It is quickly dashed when Frankie says, “I think we need to have a talk baby.”

You take a deep breath. You really don’t want to talk about it. You want to agree just to forget it ever happened. But you know thats not fair with everything you’ve just dumped on him. 

So you swallow and nod and try to sit up more fully so you can look at him properly but he just holds you tighter and kisses your forehead again to keep you still and instead angles your head a little so he can look you in the eye. 

“I don’t ever want to hear you say that you’re a bad girlfriend again baby, especially not because you haven’t been ready to have sex yet.”

You open your mouth to respond but he shuts you up with a peck on the lips, “let me talk baby,” he commands and you nod and steal another quick kiss for good measure making him smile. The sight of it eases some of the tension in your chest and allows you to take a deep, calming breath. 

“I need you to know I think you have the sexiest body baby, all those beautiful curves, drives me mad.” He punctuates his statement with a gentle squeeze of your butt cheek and another little smirk. “But you’re so much more than your body. You are so kind and sweet and smart. You take the best care of me baby and I love being around you. You make everything feel lighter and brighter. You’re my sunshine baby and you’re the only person I want.” 

You take another breath and address the elephant in the room. “Even after what I said? About wanting you to force me?”

He kisses you again. “You know I would never do that and I don’t think you really want it. I think what you want is to hand over control, let your brain switch off a little, does that sound right?”

You nod, “yes! My head gets so jumbled and I overthink and I panic and I just want you to tell me what to do.” You bury your head in his chest. You feel so raw and vulnerable and you need to not look at him for a moment. 

His hand soothes up and down your spine until you turn to look at him again. 

“Have you ever done anything like this? Giving up control?” he asks and you shake you head. “Ok, well I need you to understand, giving me control isn’t about me making you do something you’re not ready for. It’s about me taking the decisions out of your hands within agreed boundaries and letting your brain go quiet so you can actually sort through your feelings. Does that sound good?”

“Yes Frankie, that sounds amazing.” The thought of having relief from the constant barrage of intrusive thoughts makes you want to cry again. But with joy this time. 

“Good girl. Tomorrow, we’re going to have a proper discussion about boundaries and limits and things you’d be open to trying but for right now I think we need to try and give you a little peace within your own head, how does that sound?”

“Perfect,” you hum, feeling an odd mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration. 

“Now, I think I have an idea of how we can do that but it’s a little intense. So before we start, I need you to understand, I have control but you have the power. You want me to stop, we stop, no questions, no repercussions. Do you understand?”

“Yes Frankie.”

“Tell me.”

“I want to stop, we stop.”

“Good girl. Now tell me. Have you ever been spanked?”

///

How grateful I was that this place stayed open late hours. I wondered if people felt odd buying adult products in broad daylight. The store always put the purchases in a nondescript paper bag. It’s not like anyone would know if you bought a ten inch glow in the dark dildo at eleven a.m. on a Tuesday.

Surprisingly the store was practically empty. A couple perusing the BDSM area and another person checking out the butt plugs were the only customers at that hour. I made my way straight to the wall of vibrators and started shopping.

“Need help finding anything?” a voice asked from behind me. I looked up to find Clint, the usual night cashier.

A year ago I would have been too flustered to name my needs, even if it was only telling the employee what I was looking for. I felt like a perverted, abnormal freak for even thinking that I could be into spankings or having candle wax dripped on my bare skin.

I was way past all the humiliation by then.

“I’m looking for a new vibrator,” I said, the same as if I was somewhere else looking for a new pair of shoes.

“We have plenty,” he said. “Do you have anything particular in mind?”

There were so many – rabbits, thrusting rabbits, g-spot stimulators, wands, bullets. “I just really need to get off,” I mumbled helplessly, not realizing I’d spoken out loud until I heard Clint chuckle. “This one looks interesting.” I took a vibrating realistic cock off the hook and studied it.

“That’ll get you where you need to go, darlin’,” Clint murmured, “if you can handle that many inches.”

I smirked at him. “You think I can’t?”

“I might have something that can test that theory,” he replied, the air between us becoming something much more than just playful. “I’ve only got about ten minutes before closing. Why don’t you stay after?”

I was bent over the display of collars and leashes and paddles. My breath fogged up the glass as Clint eased my panties down my legs. I stepped out of them and Clint’s hands traced up my legs, his thumbs in the creases where my thighs met my ass, spreading me open from behind. His fingers eased into my pussy, two thick digits sliding in easily. “You’ve been wet all day, haven’t you?” he murmured. “Jesus, you’re all messy. You leaked right through your shorts, you know that?”

A sharp laugh escaped me, my cunt already trying to suck up every inch he gave me. “It’s been a long day.. nothing’s gotten me off.”

“You just want to come, don’t you?” he repeated my earlier words. “That’s why you’re here.”

He crooked his fingers, the calloused tips stimulating my g-spot. I shivered, moaning sweetly as he teased me. “I’ve never seen such a wet pussy,” he continued. “And tight..”

I’d masturbated all night, tried every possible solution, but they all led me here, where Clint was fingering me, the sloppy sounds nearly as loud as his filthy words. “Gonna give this pretty pussy exactly what she needs. I bet she’s been cryin’ for this all damn day.”

“Clint!” I gasped, lifting my hips, arching up as he slipped in deeper. He pressed against me, his chest covering my back. His cock, hard inside his jeans, poked my lower back. He tucked my hair behind my ear, giving my lobe a quick nip. “Come for me, pretty girl,” he rasped. I heard a slight buzzing sound as he pulled me back to him, his free hand cupping my pussy from the front. A sweet and shocking jolt made me gasp out loud. He was wearing a vibrating ring, pressing it against my clit as he fingered me, my climax coming quicker.

“There we go,” he murmured, holding me against him. “I got you, I got you..”

I cried out, sweet relief flooding my veins as I came apart at the seams, my pussy soaking his hand. He finally let go as the pleasure ebbed, gently placing me down on the glass again. “You might be ready for this,” he said. “You want that big, thick vibrating cock? We’re gonna have to see if it fits first. And I have something else that’s the right size.”

I heard him rip a condom open, and a bottle of lube being popped open. The sweet scent of strawberry filled my senses as he rubbed the liquid onto his sheathed cock. “You ready for me?” he asked.

“Yes..” I gasped. “Clint.. please..”

“How can I possibly deny that?” I could practically hear his smile as he teased me with the head of his dick. He notched himself, letting just the tip breach me. And oh boy, I could tell he was going to be a big one.

“This okay? Need more?” he asked, voice trembling from holding back.

“Yeah..” I whined, my cheek pressed to the glass. He asked if I was uncomfortable but honestly every single thought was focused on the way he started to fill me inch by blessed inch. He was a stretch to fit but the lube, and my still-sopping wet cunt, eased the way in.

“Feel that?” he whispered. “Jesus, you’ve got all of me. Every damn inch, sweetheart.”

Through the condom I could feel him twitch as he tried to stay still, deeply seated inside me. My eyes fluttered with the sweetness of being filled so fully. “Don’t move yet,” I gasped. My walls pulsed around him and he gritted his teeth, remaining exceptionally patient.

“Fuck yourself on me,” he said, “when you’re ready.” He lifted my hips to angle in deeper, ensuring I covered all of him, the angle perfect to hit that sweet spot inside. When I was ready I pressed back against him and he took a small step back, giving some space between us. Then I moved back and forth, Clint’s oversized cock sliding in and out at a leisurely pace.

“So good..” I sighed. “Please.. I need that ring on my clit again..”

He obeyed, keeping it at a low setting to match my tempo. His heavy balls slapped against my inner thighs, his grip tight on my hips, not pulling or guiding, just letting me move how I wanted. “There we go,” he rasped. “Just like that. Just take what you need from me..”

With a gasp I curled my fingers around the edge of the glass display and bounced my ass back on him, gasping louder, the wet and obscene sounds our bodies made like a symphony to my ears as I moved faster, Clint’s hand still cupping my pussy, his muttered words soft in my ear.

I came harder than I ever had in my life.

My cunt throbbed around his dick, squeezing, drenching him. He held onto me, caressing my hips, talking me through it as lightning shot through my veins, every nerve ending alive and pulsing. I wasn’t aware of anything but the central feeling in my body, a momentary out of body experience. Even in the aftershocks, I whimpered and mewled.

Clint followed soon after, slamming into me until he filled up the condom, a deep and satisfied roar erupting from some primal place in his lungs. We stayed slumped over one another, breathless and dizzy until he disengaged, carefully getting rid of the condom and wiping me down with his blue flannel he’d removed. He apologized for not having anything else on hand, even though he’d come prepared with everything else. The scent of sex and strawberry lube hung in the air around us.

“You need this,” he said, handing me a bottled water. “Poor thing. You really needed to come..”

I drank most of the water, thanking him for the hydration. “I did. Thanks, Clint..” I smiled as he gave me a soft kiss on my forehead.

“Anytime,” he murmured. “Will you still be taking the toy?” He tapped a finger on the package containing the vibrating dildo I’d been salivating over earlier.

“I don’t know. I think I like the real thing better.” I gave him a wink.

“Come by any time. I’ll be happy to help you out.”

dividers by @/strangergraphics 👑

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Tagging some people who might want to play again (because you all did way too good in the last one...)

@kirsteng42

@din-cognito

@tateypots

@jessthebaker

@sawymredfox

@bergamote-catsandbooks

@katw474

@paradiselady19

@theanothersherlockian

@rebel-held

@grogusmum

@oonajaeadira

@just-ashlee

@time-for-my-weekly-spanking

@aurorawritestoescape

@imaswellkid

@simpingforjoel

@sunnytuliptime

@missredherring

@clawdee

@burntheedges

@lady-bess

Joel Miller has been haunting your every waking thought since you first met him over Christmas break. You and your new college friend Katie spent a few days with her mom and her new husband after you decided you couldn't stand your own family for very long. And that was when Katie's stepdad became a fixture in your fantasy department.

Tall, broad, a permanent tan from working in the sun, and with biceps as big as tree trunks, Joel is first on your list of Old Men to Fuck.

Before him you never bought into the whole "older guy" kink. Most men Joel's age are balding, with bulging guts and tiny dicks. Mr. Miller himself has none of those things. And the third one you hope to find out for yourself.

You show up on Katie's doorstep unannounced, your overnight bag in hand. Your bikini is already on under your shirt and shorts. She looks less than enthusiastic. Surprised, even.

"I wasn't expecting you until next weekend," she tells you, looking like she might even shut the door on you.

"C'mon, don't leave your best friend hanging." You prop the door open with the flat of your palm, swooshing past her and into the foyer. Joel and his wife have a nice place. Lots of different rooms and a huge pool in the back. "My parents are fighting again. Don't be a shitty friend and turn me away." Your words have a bite despite the smile plastered on your face.

"How long are you staying?" she asks, trudging upstairs after you.

"Umm.. not sure. How long is your mom gone for work?"

"The rest of the week. She comes back Thursday night."

"Where's Joel?" you ask innocently.

A pause from Katie. "He's in the backyard."

You ignore Katie's weirdness and stride outside, through the French doors and onto the deck. Joel's out at the grill, and the scent of cooking meat greets your nose.

"Well, hello there Mr. Miller." You saunter up to him, your top and jeans chucked off in Katie's room, your big and perky tits on display under the neon orange bikini top. Your bottom isn't a thong but it may as well be, the amount of ass you're showing.

Joel smirks at your chipper greeting, offering a little nod. "Hey there, scooter," he says. You want to lick up the drops of sweat beading on his forehead. He's the epitome of the Ultimate Dad, dressed in a navy blue Dallas Cowboys shirt and tan cargo shorts, crisp white New Balance sneakers on his feet.

"That looks so good," you tell him, leaning over the grill, arching your back so he can get a good look your generous cleavage. "Ooh.. I just love a good, thick sausage!"

The brief smirk on his face isn't lost on you, and you give him a little wink as you walk to the pool. He wipes his face on his sleeve before going back to the grill.

It's so easy to flirt with him. He takes it in stride, but you know it's because he can't openly flirt back in front of his stepdaughter, who will surely tell her mom on you both.

You stay within his line of sight, spreading sunscreen on your skin even though Katie has the spray kind. You take your time, hands roaming over your body, surreptitiously glancing at Joel. And he's definitely watching. Smiling, you come up to him as he closes the grill, getting ready to join you and Katie in the pool.

"Get my back?" you ask, handing him the bottle.

You untie the knot holding up your halter bikini top, feeling the heat of his gaze upon your skin. His large, roughened hands knead the cream onto your shoulders, smoothing down your back, settling briefly on your waist, squeezing lightly before tracing back up, massaging the sunscreen into your skin. "Anywhere else?" he asks gruffly.

You glance over at Katie, who's sitting on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water. She's glaring at you, but turns away when she catches your eye. She's either angry or embarrased, probably both. You don't care. You're gonna be bouncing on her step-daddy's dick soon.

It's easy to keep Joel's attention on you once you have it. Your breasts are practically spilling out of your top. You make it a point to show them off as much as you can, especially in the pool, staying in the shallow end so they stay above the water, bountiful and enticing. You can practically see him licking his lips. Later when you eat you keep eye contact with him as you seductively eat the sausage on your plate. By the time lunch is over you're sure you're getting that cock tonight.

You lay on the lounge chair, soaking up the sun. Katie naps peacefully in the chair next to you, mouth open, snoring lightly. Joel's on your other side, the sunlight gleaming on the water droplets on his skin, his arm over his eyes to block out the harsh sun. You admire the soft paunch of his belly, the hairiness of his navel, the little peek of a happy trail leading down to his swim trunks. And there, currently at rest, the soft line of his thick cock, just visible through the material.

You run your tongue along your lips, reaching out ever so cautiously. But Joel looks up in time to grasp your hand. "What do you think you're doin', little lady?"

"Just admiring the view, Mr. Miller." you tease him, not releasing from his grip. You glance over to Katie. "She's asleep, she won't see anything," you whisper to him.

Joel's mouth is set in a firm line, and you can practically see the decision-making going on behind those dark lustful eyes. "You always this bold?"

"Only when I see something I want.."

"You're trouble," he whispers.

"You don't know the half of it.."

Katie wakes up suddenly, breaking the mood. But you've come prepared, and bring out the bottle of whiskey you brought with you. "Shots, anyone?"

You wake up groggy, your mouth dry and bitter, your stomach swirling with nausea. Your phone lights up at your touch, showing it's two in the morning.

The last thing you remember is doing shots with Katie and Joel. Maybe you went past your limit, though you pride yourself on handling your alcohol. Sitting up in Katie's bed you try to clear the fuzz in your brain as you reach for a bottled water on the nightstand.

Only then do you realize Katie's gone. Hopefully she just went to the bathroom. Refusing to divert from your plan of seducing Joel you get up and change into the sexy pajama set you'd bought for just this occasion, and start your way downstairs.

Your heart is thudding with excitement, your pussy already drenched with thoughts of what you're going to do to him.. and what he's going to do to you.

Halfway down the stairs you hear a thud coming from the living room, and then a harsh "Sh!" and a soft groan.

Joel's not alone.

Did his wife come home early? You peek into the living room where the TV casts its cerulean glow on a completely unclothed couple on the sofa, the woman writhing on the man's lap, his large hands on her hips. Your heart lurches when you see who it is.

Joel and Katie.

They're trying to be quiet, despite the rhythmic thwacking of flesh on flesh, and they're too absorbed in each other to notice you standing in the doorway. Katie's little whimpers of pleasure fill the room as Joel stares up at her, eyes evoking unbridled lust.

It makes your head spin as you put all the pieces together. Katie hadn't wanted you around this weekend - specifically because she wanted Joel for herself. She must have put something in your drink to make you fall asleep so she could sneak out and fuck him.

Katie's not as much of a shrinking violet as you thought. Part of you can't help being a little proud of her subterfuge.

You know you should leave, but a bigger part of you stays rooted to the spot, your hand going into your sleep shorts and under your panties as you watch your best friend and her stepdad.

Joel covers Katie's mouth as she comes, his huge palm barely able to mimimize the moan of pleasure that emits from her. Once she recovers he gently places her on her back, her legs hanging over his shoulders as he steadily pumps into her.

Your fingers are inside you, scissoring to spread you as wide as you imagine Joel's dick is, pumping your hand into you at the same speed that Joel is going. It should be you stuffed full of his cock on the living room sofa. It should be you moaning his name in ecstasy, barely attempting to quiet yourself.

Every time she comes he talks her through it, murmuring sweet things to her as he lets her come down and then switches position again, likely wanting to feel her in every way possible. Now he has her face-down ass-up as he pummels into her from behind, his grip on her so strong it's leaving bruises on her hips.

You whimper as you imagine yourself in Katie's place, but they're too engrossed in each other to hear it. You're waiting for her to come so you can let go too. And right as she's moaning his name Joel pulls away, stroking himself until he spills his load on her ass, both of them breathing heavily and slumped over. You come right after, soaking your hand in your panties, your free hand clamped over your mouth. What a rush, and yet you have so many questions as to what you've just witnessed.

They're talking now, speaking in low tones, likely trying not to wake you, under the impression that you're still asleep upstairs.

"I'll send her away," Katie's saying. "I know you don't like her. I don't like her very much, either."

Biting back a retort you harden your gaze at the two of them, laying side by side on the sofa.

"I saw the way she was throwing herself at you," she continues. "I wanted to push her into the pool."

Joel chuckles low and soft, the way you'd been fantasizing he would do with you. "She's the type of girl who's used to getting what she wants. She's nothing like you, soft and shy and quiet. I love that I don' t know what's goin' on inside that pretty head of yours." To top it off he kisses the top of her head.

"She's only my friend because she wants to sleep with you," Katie warns.

"She ain't gonna get that far," he says as a promise. "Look at me." He cups her chin and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead. "It's just you and me, okay? Not even your ma can come between us."

You're back in bed when Katie returns. Even as she stands over your bed, you feign sleep. You don't have the mental fortitude it takes to process what you just witnessed. It was like a porn coming to life. Except it should have been you, not Katie.

"Wake up," she says. "I know you saw us."

"What?" you murmur, feigning tiredness. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Cut your bullshit," she growls. "You saw me fucking Joel, didn't you?" You've never seen this side of her before. Sweet, gentle Katie, who cried at those stupid SPCA commercials and said yes ma'am/yes sir to everyone over the age of thirty. The Katie you thought was a virgin and saving herself for marriage, or at the very least, romance.

Maybe you've met your match.

You sit up, dropping the act. "So what if I did? I was on my way to fuck him myself. Little did I know his own stepdaughter got to him first. You're gross, you know that? He's practically like a father to you."

"He's not my father. Besides, I love Joel, and he loves me."

This makes you laugh. "You're kidding, right? Katie, he's married to your mother! The man's not gonna drop everything just to be with you. He found an easy lay. No one in the world is dumb enough to give that up."

"You're just jealous."

"Yeah, let me tell you how much I want to run away with your stepfather." You roll your eyes. "You really think he loves you? You're delusional, Katie."

She sits on the bed, shoulders hunched. The closer she gets, you can get a whiff of sex off her.

"It's real between us, you know," she says quietly. "It's not just sex. We really do love each other."

"Oh honey, be real," you urge her. "It's fine for you to have your fun with him, but it's not gonna go anywhere. He'd lose everything. It's not worth the risk."

She's quiet, as if she's contemplating your words. Of course sweet little virgin Katie would fall head over heels for the first older man to give her some attention. You just never thought it'd be Joel Miller of all people.

"How did it happen?" you ask out of curiosity, a gnawing need that must be sated. Scooching over, you make room for her in the bed with you as she begins her story:

She used to steal his flannel shirts from his hamper when he was out. She liked the scent of him, whether it was the cologne her mom had bought him for his birthday or his own natural scent, the sweat the lingered on him as he came inside from mowing the lawn or working in the shed out back.

It was her secret sin that she had a crush on the man her mother married. Her own dad left to start over in another state with a younger woman who worked at his office. He wrote emails, sent gifts, but didn't put the effort in that showed his love. Joel hated him for that, cussing him out whenever his name was mentioned.

"You deserve better than that," Joel would mutter, squeezing Katie's shoulder. It was innocent at first. He had eyes only for her mom. He saw her as a daughter of his own, or so he'd told her. He'd never done anything inappropriate or acted untowardly with her. Part of her was relieved. A deeper, darker part of her wished he'd cave in so she could do so too.

She studied you, your behavior around men when you used them to get what you want. Standing shyly on the sidelines, she learned how to move, how to use her voice, how to dress. Luckily Joel didn't seem to mind what she wore, always complimenting her whether she had on her worn overalls or the sundress she'd borrowed from your own closet.

She was wearing that sundress the first time she kissed him.

He'd froze at first before pushing her away, telling her she shouldn't have done that, it was wrong for numerous reasons. But then he gave in and kissed her again.

That's all it was at first, just kissing and touching, always when her mom was out, or upstairs in bed, aided to sleep by a combination of pinot noir and heavy medication. Katie was a virgin, but despite her curiosity she didn't want to rush into this.

Certain sins she kept from him, like the way she'd steal his favorite flannel shirt from the laundry hamper, still bearing his scent, his sweat, the remnants of his cologne.. When he was out she would sneak the shirt into her room and touch herself, playing with her pussy while she held the fabric to her nose, imagining things she didn't dare suggest to him outright.

One night she didn't count on him coming home so early, and had fallen asleep on his bed after bringing herself to pleasure over and over..

Joel's heart stopped as he took in the sight of her on his bed, her legs bare beneath the t-shirt. He felt a jolt of desire course through him, his fingers twitching as he resisted the urge to touch her. He stood there for what felt like an eternity, torn between doing what he wanted and doing what was right. He slowly approached the bed, his eyes roaming over her body. His hands itched to touch her skin, to pull her into his arms. "Katie," he whispered, his voice almost reverent.

"Mm?" she moaned, waking up slowly.

Joel froze as she stirred, his heart thudding in his ears, He didn't know what to do, what to say. "You.. you're in my bed," he managed to croak out, his eyes glued to her half-naked body.

"S-sorry," she realized she was still holding his flannel. Joel's eyes flickered to his shirt still clutched in her hands and swallowed hard, trying to find a coherent thought. "You shouldn't be in here.."

"I'm sorry," she repeated, with no excuse for why she was in there in the first place. Joel shook his head, his voice a low growl. "Don't apologize." He took a step closer to the bed, his body moving of its own accord, drawn to her like a magnet.

Her breath shuddered and despite herself her core grew warm and wet. "I'll go."

"No," Joel said firmly, his hand shooting out to grip her wrist as she started to get up.

"Joel?" She gasped when he pressed her down, undoing his jeans. Her panties were pushed to the side as she held onto him, heart buzzing with excitement.

"Katie.. God, I'm sorry," he groaned as he settled between her thighs.

All her breath left her as he pushed forward and she gasped in surprise. Joel stilled above her, his face mere inches from her. "Did I hurt you?" His body trembled with the effort to keep still.

"I'm okay," she whispered, the pain melting already. As soon as she said that he started to snap his hips against hers and she cried out.

His breath caught in his throat, fingers gripping her thighs as he thrust fast and deep. "Christ.. Katie.."

Before she knew it he was pulling away, removing from her as something warm and sticky covered her belly. Joel groaned as he spilled himself onto her stomach, feeling both relief and guilt wash over him. He looked down at Katie, her body trembling under his. "I'm so sorry.. I shouldn't have.."

"It's okay," she whispered, her mind still spinning with what had just happened.

"We won't tell anyone what happened, okay?" He found a towel and cleaned her, his touch gentle.

"And so.. what, you've been fucking him ever since when your mom's not around?"

Katie shrugs. "Yeah.. she's been going on more work trips lately. I don't think she suspects anything.."

"Katie, she's not stupid. You're fucking her husband under her roof. She's bound to figure it out eventually. You or him or both of you will slip somehow."

"What is wrong with you?" she counters. "You told me yourself that you mess around with your own stepfather."

"That's different," you huff. "I only blow him sometimes when I want a little extra spending money. I would never straight up fuck him!"

"It is different.. because Joel and I love each other," Katie stresses.

"He doesn't love you! He just wants to fuck you!" you nearly shout. "Jesus! What would happen if your mom found out? She owns a fucking gun!"

"Quiet!" Katie hisses. "She'd never hurt us. When the time is right he's going to leave her and be with me."

"You don't honestly believe that, do you?"

Katie doesn't answer you, she just gives you a sad look, as if you could never understand.

You're starting to think you don't want to understand.

Still, that doesn't deter you from pursuing Joel yourself. Now that you've seen that cock in action you need it. If a sweet, simpering virgin like Katie can somehow persuade him, you with all your know-how will land this easily. Piece of cake.

After making sure Katie won't bother the both of you, you find Joel on the deck outside, enjoying an ice cold beer.

"You look comfy," you purr, standing in his direct sunlight so he has to look up at you.

"What're you doin' out here?" he mutters, sipping a beer, sitting straighter up as you sit next to him on the deck sofa.

"I just wanted to come out and say hi," you say prettily, swiping his beer and taking a sip, letting the tip of your tongue linger on the bottle.

"Where's Katie?" he asks, voice rough as he watches you.

"She got her period or something. She had to run out to buy pads." A little smirk dances across your face. "So we're all alone. What should we do?"

He turns to glance over his shoulder at the house, as if to check that Katie really is gone. "It's up to you, darlin'. Wanna get in the pool? Sunbathe a little?" His smirk matches yours.

"I've got something better I'd like to do." You perch your barely-covered ass on his lap, grinding down slightly, his bulge twitching beneath you.

Realization dawns in his eyes and he keeps his hands at his side, a feat of restraint. "You're practically just a kid."

"The last time I checked, twenty-one is a full grown adult."

He exhales through his nose as you continue to press him. Another sip of beer passes his lips before he replies. "I'm over twice your age," he mutters.

"So?"

"I'm old enough to be your dad. I've got wrinkles and everything."

You trace your fingertip over his crow's feet and the deepening ridge between his brows. "I think your wrinkles are cute."

"You're just bullshittin' me." Joel's blushing though.

"No bullshit. Promise." You rub your hand on his knee. "Girls my age love older men."

He's intrigued now. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Because y'all know what we need while we're still figuring out what we want."

He makes a hmph sound in his throat, but he's nonetheless intrigued. "And what is it that you want, kid?"

Your fingers wander to the graying curls at the nape of his neck. "I want to take care of you, see that your needs are met."

Joel shakes his head. "Why waste all that on an old man?"

"I just think we could have a good time together."

"Good time, huh? What exactly do you think we'd be doin'?" His brow arches.

"Might be more fun to show you."

Joel gives an amused scoff as you pull him close, brushing your lips against his. His rough hands grab your waist, pulling you to straddle him. Your lips part, allowing his tongue in your mouth, exploring and tasting.

He's married, he's involved with his stepdaughter, and now this.. you're a beautiful girl and he's just a weak man.

His arms wrap around you, hands sliding up your tank top, stroking your soft skin. His kiss turns rough and greedy, biting your bottom lip and tugging it between his teeth. You start to grind on his lap, moving your hips in little circles as you slowly pull your top off. Joel's breath hitches in his throat, his eyes hungrily admiring your flesh. He'd be lying if he said he'd never snuck a look at you before. And now you're giving him exactly what he wants.

He leans in, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and chest. You arch into his kiss, his beard lightly scratching your skin. "I want to feel you," you moan softly.

"Yeah? Think you can handle me?" he mumbles against your skin. "I'm more than two decades older than you, sweetheart."

"I'm well aware." You grind down on his lap as he gazes up at you with his big brown eyes, his hands gripping your thigh, holding in you place on him. "They say older trees are the sturdiest," you add.

"Never heard that line before, darlin'.." He gives your thigh a squeeze, his hand sliding up the hem of your shorts.

"Glad I can give you some kind of first," you whisper, your lips running down his neck as you unbutton his jeans. You lift off him enough to touch him through his boxers. Joel inhales a sharp breath, reaching to grasp your wrist. "Don't you think you're gettin' a little ahead of yourself, darlin'?"

"What? Don't tell me you're feeling guilty.." you tease him, unclamping his hand from your wrist so you can pull down your shorts and panties in one go. "I wanna feel you, Joel.."

That's the moment when his self-control goes out the window. "Fuck," he growls, eyeing the slickness present between your thighs as you climb into his lap. "Think it'll all fit?" you murmur, allowing the tip of him to sink in.

"Gonna find out," he grunts, thrusting up into you, his hands gripping your hips. God, he's big, bigger than you'd dreamed, and thick.

"You okay?" He gives you a chance to adjust to him. After you nod, he pulls almost all the way out then back in again at a torturously slow pace. "Takin' me all the way in," he mutters, running his tongue along the side of your throat.

"Joel, you're huge," you sigh. "I can feel you in my belly."

"Yeah? Right here?" He presses his palm to the small bulge protruding in your lower stomach. "Come on, sweetheart, take it. Ride me like you mean it."

"Oh, fuck.. it's so good," you moan as you start moving in earnest, bouncing on his lap as your pussy squelches around his cock. He grabs your hips, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he tries to steady you. "Slow down, darlin'," he warns you. "I'm close. Don't want this to end so soon."

"Already?" You tsk-tsk. "Poor guy.. you must really need to get rid of that load." You hear his scoff and decide to go for the jugular. "I bet Katie never lets you come inside her.."

"What?" His eyes jerk up to yours, hands tightening on your hips, ready to throw you off. "What are you talking about?"

"Easy, tiger. She already told me everything. I found you two by accident on the couch, fucking like the perverts you are," you whisper, bearing down on him with punctuation.

"What the fuck.. you saw that?"

"I did.. and I got myself off to it.. so hard." You swivel your hips just so, still riding him. "You want to fill me up, don't you? Young and pretty thing like me, filled up with you?"

His eyes close as you kiss his cheek, his body reacting way ahead of his brain. "Yeah, I do. Gonna let me come inside this sweet pussy?"

"I have an IUD. You can pump me full of you." You gasp as he dips his head, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking it, swirling his tongue over it.

"You're gonna be leakin' me for days," he warns you, guiding you up and down, thrusting up into you at a relentless pace.

"Fill me up.. use me," you whimper, your walls starting to convulse around him. Joel felt the tremors beginning deep inside you and holds back until you're coming apart on top of him, wet and tight and urging him to spill. His hips stutter as he comes hard, bottoming out as his warm release jets up into you.

"Look at you. All messy." He lifts you off of him, a combination of your fluids already oozing out, glazing his dick and his pubes.

"I'm gonna go to sleep just like this, full of you," you plant another kiss on his lips before you get to your feet and get dressed. "And when I wanna get filled again, I know exactly where to go." You wink at him before going upstairs.

Checking on Katie upstairs you find her still asleep, knocked out from the sleeping pills you crushed into her drink earlier. A little payback for the way she'd drugged you the night before. "See? All I wanted was a taste," you tell her, softly stroking her hair. "You didn't have to be so greedy. We're best friends, after all. And that means we share everything."

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Most Romantic (or sweetest):

Saturday - poetry and chocolate ice cream - Father in Law!Joel Miller x f!reader

I think these two lovebirds are the sweetest thing I wrote so far, I didn't even plan for them to be like that, it just happened 🥹

Joel is still holding you, his big paws on your ass.  His lopsided smile makes your knees weak, his eyes are fixed on you, lustful chocolate for you to devour, a look that leaves so little to imagination.  Every little wrinkle on his face, every mole and skin blemish, dimples and bald patches in his beard. He calls them flaws, you call them the map of love.  There’s a little scar on his temple, he said it was from hitting something when he was a kid. You’re always eager to kiss it, just because it’s so him.  He makes you think of wabi-sabi, the Japanese concept you once read about. That little scar doesn’t need to be fixed, like everything in him. His beauty is imperfections, raw, authentic, unique, deeply human.  Joel is just like that. Flesh and blood that hunt you down and make you dirty and imperfect but you never felt more liberated and your true self than wrapped in his arms.  “You have my lipstick all over your chin,” you giggle.  “Well, you, too. Think it’s perfect,” he replies, the pad of his fingers brushing your lower lip.  You clean up his and your messy face, lead him to the living room and make him sit on the couch.  “I’m going to put this away and take something to drink, don’t move.”  He gives you that look that always appears on his face when you walk away - longing and yearning. You’d call you both pathetic, but you’re so drunk in love, it’s just sweet. You’ve never seen Joel with that face before, it’s a “yours” face and you wouldn’t give it away for all the money in the world. 

Your Angst-iest writing:

I'm still proud of Everything in its right place first chapter, even if this fic is on hiatus at the moment. I think it's the best angst I've ever wrote so far.

Everything in its right place - Joel Miller x f!reader - Chapter 1 : A wolf at the door

“You know this relationship isn’t working Joel.”  Joel watched his wife, standing up in front of him, saying him she was about to leave.  He hoped it wouldn't happen, but he knew he had taken too many things for granted. This person, this stranger who looked him in the eye and told him she was leaving home, he no longer recognized her. Her eyes were different, a veil of hardness had fallen over them. Her body was different, unwelcoming, her arms stiff at her sides. Her hands, which once enchanted him, seemed unfamiliar, cruel, her fingers thin as claws ready to tear his heart apart. Her entire evasive figure seemed to reject him. “I can't go on like this. You can't go on like this.” Her voice was no longer a melody; those inflections that once delighted him now seemed unbearable, repulsive, hurting his ears. The kitchen walls were oppressive, the sizzling of the pan on the stove an unpleasant backdrop to that confession, the smell of burnt eggs reaching his nostrils like the final confirmation of his defeat. He turned quickly to remove the pan from the heat, cursing when he grabbed the hot handle, throwing the pan and its contents into the sink with a crash that splattered scrambled eggs all over him, the backsplash and the sink.  She stood there motionless, as if none of it concerned her anymore. Not the scream that Joel made, nor the unusable frying pan, nor the eggs that had made a mess everywhere. Joel turned around again, catching sight of the suitcases in the hallway. He looked again at his partner of fifteen years, his high school sweetheart, the woman he thought he knew better than anyone else. The impassive woman standing before him was not her. “You know what's going to happen now,” he hissed. “There's nothing else I can do.” She turned away. Joel felt words welling up in his throat. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.  He wanted to shake her. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry.  Joel hadn't cried since they lost Sarah.  He did nothing. He felt a lead weight sink into his heart as she walked in the hallway. He clung to the kitchen counter, his knuckles tight around the white laminate. The daylight streaming in through the window made everything terribly real, the pale December sun enveloping the room in a yellowish, almost sickly hue. Like jaundice, like an infection. The doorbell rang. She opened the door and Brian hurried to take her luggage. Brian, the office colleague whom his wife had invited to dinner once. The office colleague who had eaten at his dining table. Brian. The man who rattled off anecdotes about everything.  Brian. The man who knew a little about everything but only superficially, by his own admission. Brian, the man who had no flavor, totally forgettable, the most ordinary face Joel had ever seen. Brian, the man Joel had thought he never had to worry about. Brian, the man who was taking her away from him. It was a comedy of the absurd. A revolting, low-grade theater performance. Joel yelled his wife's name once. Just once, as she gathered the last of her things. She turned, looked at him, a slight crack of remorse finally bent the corners of her lips and veiled her eyes, she mouthed “I'm sorry,” and she was out the door two seconds later. Everything was shrouded in a gloomy silence. He didn't notice the tears streaming down his cheeks until he saw the damp patches on his gray sweater.  He didn't move until he felt a lick on his fingers. He wiped away his tears and looked down. He didn't even know when Tommy had scampered over there. Brown eyes, black muzzle, black and white coat. He looked at him gently, his slightly panting breath blowing on his hand before licking it again. Joel slumped to the floor, Tommy climbed onto his lap, resting his muzzle on his shoulder. He hugged him. And cried. He cried until he had no more tears left.

Your most humorous:

Closer - Tess x f!reader x Joel

I think both Awakening and Closer have humorous part, especially when it comes to Tommy, he became my funny guy for some reason and I love him 🤭

Closer ending is probably one of the best example of it:

Just as you were about to fall asleep—Tess hugging you and you hugging Joel—the door opened again. All three of you snapped your eyes open, trying to cover yourselves as best you could, Tess grabbing her shirt off the floor, you hiding behind Joel, as Tommy walked into the room. “What the fuck?” Tommy’s jaw dropped; his eyes darted from you to Tess to his brother at a ridiculous speed as he tried to figure out what the hell had happened. “You guys…” he began, pointing his finger at Joel, “fuck, you had a threesome? While I was downstairs keeping watch?!” Then he looked at you again, his eyes lingering, then at Tess, and back at Joel. “Fuck you, were those noises you guys making?! I thought they were fucking infected outside the door!” All three of you burst out laughing; Joel shrugged. “Damn, you could’ve at least invited me!”

Your sexiest:

Bunny - younger!sub!Harry Castillo x curvy mistress!f!reader

For the sexiest thing, I chose Bunny because I love this reader and she turns me on 🤤 I'm really proud of her! And you know how much I love a good boy and Harry is the best boy 😌

The room was silent around you, filled only with your breathing. He felt his pulse quicken, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, a light sheen of sweat beading on his neck. Your pussy was just above his hard cock. “Do you want to feel me?” He had never nodded so quickly in his life. “Yes, ma'am.” Even so, he could feel the heat between your legs, the scent of your arousal. He wanted to reach down, dip his fingers into your slick, taste your flavor and make you come on his lips, while your juices were dripping down his mustache, lips, chin, and neck. You would have been sweet on his tongue, intoxicating like a drug. Unconsciously, he pulled hard on his wrists, meeting resistance from the silk ribbon.  You pushed your hips back, brushing his naked cock with your still-clothed pussy and Harry couldn’t help it. He gasped hard, lifting his hips, searching for more friction.  You slapped his face, shooting him a withering look. “Behave.”  “I'm sorry, ma’am,” he whispered, the stinging pain of your slap inflaming his cheek.  Nothing stopped his cock from throbbing, though. Quite the contrary. It had never been so hard. Harry couldn't take his eyes off your breasts, swollen and taut beneath your bodysuit. You followed his gaze. “Would you like to have a taste?” You whispered.  “Yes. Please. Just - fuck - I need it.” “Oh, poor boy, you need it so bad?” you cooed. There was no derision in your voice, no mocking, no pity, just honey and cotton-candy sweetness.  You pulled down the front zipper of your bodysuit, your tits popping free from under the fabric. You smiled at his eager, passionate gaze. He had never seen anything more perfect.  You moved your hips a little upward, your pussy now brushing on his stomach as you leaned in, your tits one inch above his mouth.  “Take it, baby, show me how much you want it,” you whispered in his ear.  Harry didn't need to be told twice. His neck stretched out, his lips closed over one of your nipples, and his cock twitched desperately at the sensation. It was soft, warm and tasted so good. It was like it was made for his mouth.  Your fingers entangled in his hair, roaming through his curls. You moaned, “Good job” and the praise went straight down his spine and filled his limbs. He felt your breath itching while his mouth continued to suck, his tongue swirling eagerly over your hardened bud, his teeth gently grazing, enough to make you moan again.  He smiled against your skin, feeling proud, feeling so good about being able to elicit that kind of reaction in you.  “Yeah, baby, go on, suck on them.” Your pussy was throbbing, he could feel it distinctively, your wetness making the leather slippery and wetting his stomach.  He put his mouth on your other breast, giving it the same treatment, your soft skin making his head spin. He wanted you so badly, so badly he wasn’t even able to express how much in words at that point. 

You’d never considered yourself jumpy. Living alone had never bothered you. The quiet cul-de-sac sat on the edge of town where nothing exciting ever happens. The loudest disturbances were usually kids kicking footballs or Mr. Harris mowing his lawn at eight in the morning. Your neighbour, Joel Miller, fit right into that peaceful routine. He wasn’t particularly social, but he wasn’t unfriendly either.

If your garbage cans tipped over in the wind, he’d silently set them upright. If your car battery died, he’d already be halfway across the driveway with jumper cables before you’d even finished sighing. He spoke in that deep Texas drawl that somehow made even complaining about the weather sound comforting.

You wouldn’t call the two of you friends, just friendly neighbours. Until Wednesday night. 

You found yourself standing barefoot on your front porch at eleven at night staring across the short stretch of driveway separating your house from Joel Miller’s.

You almost laughed at yourself. The age of you and you’re frightened by a few strange noises in the garden. Still, your hands trembled as you wrapped your cardigan tighter around yourself. Someone had been in your backyard, you were sure of it.

The knock barely left your knuckles before the porch light brightened. A deadbolt slid back, door opened and Joel stood there in faded grey sweatpants and a navy T-shirt, his salt-and-pepper hair going in all directions. The concern arrived before the words did. “You alright?”

Nothing came out.

His brows pulled together. “What happened?”

“I…” You swallowed. “I think someone’s in my backyard.”

He looked over your shoulder toward your house. “You see ’em?”

You shook your head. “No, but I heard someone.”

“What’d you hear?”

“Footsteps, mumbles.” Your voice shook despite every attempt to steady it. “Ive heard it a few nights now.”

Joel opened the door wider. “Come inside.”His tone wasn’t forceful, it simply left no room to argue.

The warmth of his house wrapped around you almost instantly. He locked the door behind you before guiding you toward the sofa. “You want some tea?” You nodded. He disappeared into the kitchen, the familiar sounds of a kettle filling and cupboards opening somehow grounded you. It was normal. Comfortingly normal.

Joel returned with two steaming mugs before crouching beside the coffee table. “You stay right here.” He was up and leaving before you could stop him. “What are you doing?”

“Gonna have a look.”

Your eyes widened. “No. What if someone’s actually there?” 

“I’ll be alright.” His mouth twitched into a faint smile. “—they’ll wish they picked on somebody else’s backyard.”

You couldn’t help smiling back, but it disappeared almost immediately. “I’m being serious, Joel—I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine, darlin—just stay put.” He pulled on a canvas work jacket hanging beside the door. “You lock this behind me.”

“I really don’t like this, Joel.”

“I know.” He rested a reassuring hand briefly on your shoulder. “But I won’t be long.”

Twenty minutes felt like two hours. You sat listening to the old clock in Joel’s living room, jumping every time the house creaked. When the front door finally opened, relief flooded through you. Joel stepped inside, wiping mud from his boots against the mat. His jeans were streaked with damp soil.

“Well?”

He sighed, “Yeah…” Your stomach dropped. “What did you find?”

He shrugged over his jacket, throwing it on the couch. “Your flowers’re all trampled.”

You closed your eyes. “I knew it. Damn it…”

Joel stood above you, adjusting his belt. “But I didn’t see anybody. Maybe it was a real heavy raccoon lookin’ for food.”

“A raccoon?”

“Yeah—big fucker.” Despite yourself, you laughed softly. “I don’t think raccoons flatten flowerbeds, they go for trash cans.”

He scratched at his beard thoughtfully. “Maybe it was somebody’s dog.” You looked into your mug. “I know what I heard, Joel.”

Joel’s expression softened. “Yeah I believe ya, Darlin.” After a long silence, he clapped his hands together. “Right, you can stay here tonight.” You shook your head quickly. “No no I can’t.”

“Of course ya can.”

You shook your head again, like it’s finalised. “No I’ll be fine. I’ll just lock my doors and have a knife ready.”

“Jesus, Girl—yeah but then you’ll spend all night wonderin’ if every noise is somebody outside.”

“…Probably. So?” Truth be told, you didn’t wanna leave, as much as you argued—your feet remained planted. 

“My bed’s clean, I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your own bed, Joel.”

“You ain’t kickin’ me nowhere.”

You sighed. “Oh my god, you’re stubborn.”

“So I’ve been told, darlin.”

It happened again three nights later. You were sat at your kitchen table, reading the paper when you saw a flash. It was one of those things where you don’t know if you imagined it or not, but you stood and went to look out the kitchen window. You couldn’t see anything in the sea of darkness, but then you heard shuffling from just underneath your window. You heard it again and banged a balled fist against the glass. “I know you’re out there fucker!” 

More noise then you saw—undeniably—a tall figure standing now a few feet away, hidden in the shadows. 

You scream and ran out the front door and sped to Joel’s, frantically knocking on his door. He takes him a minute to answer, you push your way in and slam the door behind you. 

“Sorry darlin I was in the basement. What the hell happened?” He reached for your shoulders trying to centre you. “Darlin, I need ya to calm down.” 

You were taking gibberish, panicked. “I saw someone. I saw them Joel! Big fucking guy—it had to be a guy. And he was right by my window!” Joel pulls you in against his chest. “Okay come on now, I need ya to calm down.” He strokes your hair a few times. “It’s okay, you’re here now—safe with me.” He shushes you and kisses the top of your head. “I’ll be right back.” 

You barely let him escape the grasp you have on him. “No, Joel please don’t go. Just—stay, let’s just stay here okay?” He gives you a kiss on the cheek. “Okay, darlin.”

The two of you ended up in Joel’s bed watching a movie. You kept looking towards the window and door. Joel noticed everytime. “Darlin, no one’s coming to get you okay? I’m here—not going anywhere.” 

You lowered your head with a defeated sigh. “Well…I can’t keep living like this—being fuckin’ scared all the time. I’m gonna get some of those little security cameras, stick a few around the place.”

Joel nodded. “Now that’s a good idea, darlin’. I know a guy who’ll sort you out with a good deal if you want me to ask.”

Thank God. You hadn’t the first clue about security stuff. “Aw, thanks, Joel. You’re the best. Do I need to meet him, or…?”

“If you want to. He’ll probably just drop ‘em off at my work site, though.” He gave you a reassuring smile. “I’ll help you get ‘em set up, darlin’. Don’t you worry.”

You were so grateful to have Joel in your life. At first, having a friendly neighbour had been enough, but recently he’d become the one person you could always rely on. You rested your head against his chest. “God Joel you’re so warm.” You giggle to yourself wrapping an arm around his torso. “You won’t leave me alone will you?” 

Joel brings you in for a closer hug, “darlin, only for pee breaks.” He crosses his heart, and relaxes against the pillows. You softly hum and drift off to sleep, some little snores rattling against Joel’s chest making him laugh. “Silly girl.” 

 A few minutes later, Joel carefully shifted you off him before slipping out of bed. He padded into the bathroom, flicking on the small light above the mirror. Rubbing a hand down his tired face, he pulled out his phone and made a call.

After a few rings, someone answered.

“Hey, man, it’s me. Listen, I’m gonna need a few of those cameras for someone… Yeah—a woman. Think she’s been seeing someone in her backyard.”

The man on the other end agreed, promising to drop them off in a day or two.

“Good man. I’ll have the money for you then. Take it easy.”

Joel ended the call and switched off the bathroom light before making his way back to the bedroom.

He paused in the doorway for a moment, simply watching you sleep. His T-shirt was bunched up but swallowed your frame. The sight of you wearing his boxers low on your hips, made him go hard in his. 

He quietly crossed the bedroom, careful not to disturb you, and made his way downstairs to the basement.

Stopping in front of the washer and dryer, he rested both palms against the tops of the machines and let out a long, defeated sigh.

“Fuck me…”

He crouched down, grabbing a pair of jeans and boots from the floor. Both were caked in dried mud, flecks of soil still clinging stubbornly to the leather. “That was fuckin close” He turned one boot over in his hand, a guilty smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He rubbed a thumb over the thick layer of mud, knocking loose a few crushed daisy petals caught in the tread. One petal floated to the concrete floor. “Fuckin’ flowers…” he muttered, shaking his head, thinking he could make it through them without sinking and crushing them more.

He chuckled quietly to himself, remembering the way you’d yelled and bolted for his house, and him barely making it back in time before you knocked. “Ya cut it fuckin close, Miller.”  

He scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed, unbuckling his belt and dropping his pants to the floor. He pulls out his phone, searching through it and places it down onto the dryer. the screen showed a picture of you, sitting at your kitchen table playing with your hair, moments before you witnessed Joel’s accidental flash. “No darlin, you weren’t imagining it.” He chuckles to himself. “Stupid fuckin flash.” 

Joel spat into his palm and drew in a slow, steady breath, his jaw tightening as he stroked his cock. “Fuck…” he muttered, his voice rough and low. His eyes slipped shut for a moment, his head tipping back thinking of you and your sweet mouth sucking him off. A crooked smile tugged at his lips despite himself. “So fuckin’ hot—fuckin slut…”

His breathing grew heavier, frustration and longing twisting together in his chest. He scrubbed a hand over his face with a quiet groan, as he grew closer and closer to tipping over the edge. He imagines you kneeling before him, big teary eyes, mouth full of his cock—thanking him for being your saviour.

“Yeah baby just like that.” He grunts low as his stomach tightens and cums—it landing on his phone. “Fuck—me—“ His body sputters while one hand rests on the dryer. “Fuckin hell.” He lets go of his softening cock still dripping cum for the tip. 

Joel wipes his brow, sweat dripping at his temples. He leans down and brings up his pants and tucks himself back in. He picks up his phone— giving it a much needed wipe—trying to focus on the name to call. The phone rings. 

“Yeah?” 

“Hey it’s Joel. Got one for ya if ya interested. Gonna have to give me a week or two to wear her down though.” 

The voice chuckles down the phone. “Joel you’re a cold bastard. She hot?” 

“Yup. Fuckin gorgeous figure, pretty face, pretty smile. And I bet she makes some sweet ass noises.” 

The voice laughs again, “well let me know when you’re ready—send me some pics of her in the meantime. Clothed, unclothed. Bikini. In the shower. Then we’ll talk.” 

“Sounds good. I’ll get ya the pics in a few days. Gotta be careful.” 

“Understood” then the line went dead. 

Joel cleaned himself up, putting his muddy jeans in the washer and he’ll finish the boots tomorrow. He wants to get back to you. And speak of the devil…

“Joel?” Your voice sounded so small, frightened coming from upstairs, he barely heard you. 

“Yeah, I’m here.” He heard the creaking of the floor as he goes towards the stairs, “I’m coming, darlin—don’t worry.” You stood at the top of the stairs, playing nervously with the hem. “Where did you go?” You asked sheepishly. 

“Sorry, darlin—had to sort out some laundry while it was in my head. Come on, back to bed.” He shooed you playfully, giving your thigh a small tap. “You gonna be a good girl, f’me?” 

You give him a shy smile and as you turn to walk back, the floor disappeared. “Whoa. Fuckin hell, Joel—put me down.” 

“Nah, we’ll get there quicker this way, baby.” 

You preen at the name, maybe turning a little pink as you rest your smiling face against his neck, “thanks, Joel—you’re just the best.” Youve put him on a pedestal, and Joel was eating it up. 

This was going to be so easy. 

“Divorced divorced? Like legally? Or just separated? There’s a huge difference.”

“Yes, he’s divorced divorced. And really cute! He’s a government agent.”

I let myself drift off as Pickle rambled on.

“So, this Saturday at eight?” she asked.

“Huh? Where? What?”

Pickle sighed, frustrated with my lack of attention. “You. David. Date. Saturday. Eight pm. Copper Creek Grill.”

“O.K.,” I responded, just as exasperated. “What’s the deal with him anyway? Why is he perfect for me?”

“Because he’s single and cute and has a good job. Plus he has kids from his previous marriage, so he probably wouldn’t expect you to get knocked up or anything.”

“Great,” I said sarcastically. “My Prince Charming.”

“So you’d be willing to date a divorced guy?”

“I have to meet him first, Pickle.” Content that my nails were dry I put my sister on speaker as I started on my fingers. “Don’t start choosing bridal shower invitations just yet.”

“I just want to see you settled, Dais,” she said gently. It turned my heart all around.

“I know.. and I appreciate it.. love you, sis.”

“Love you too, sis,” she said back. “So. Should I call David and let him know you’re interested?”

I sighed. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

“You’re David?” I asked the tall, broad gentleman at the bar, nursing a whiskey.

“Yes,” he said enthusiastically, standing to shake my hand. “And you’re Daisy, right? Your sister told me a lot about you.” He walked with me to get a booth nearby.

“She’s my older sister. I bet she had a lot of interesting material,” I said we sat down.

“Any other siblings?”

“Thankfully no,” I smirked.

“I see.” He smiled at me as he settled in across the table. “I have an older sister myself. I can relate.”

We talked a little bit about our families. He brought up his divorce, which was pretty recent but, in his words, was “long overdue.”

He was cute – I couldn’t stop checking him out as he spoke – his eyes lit up when he talked about his daughters, the soft plushness of his lips held my attention, the perfect thickness of his fingers as he held the menu had me wondering where else he’d be thick..

If he was feeling the same way he didn’t show it. He was a gentleman the entire time, and at the end of the date he only kissed my cheek. I supposed he was taking it slow because he didn’t want to rush into getting physical with someone so soon after divorcing.

He insisted on my calling him “Dave” instead of “David” and I teased him for having such a game show host name. Secretly I wondered how I was supposed to scream Dave in a fit of passion. Maybe I could scream baby or oh god yes or even daddy if he was amenable to it. I figured I had time.

After five dates (our first dinner, the movies, another dinner, a concert, and then late night drinks) I finally popped the question.

“Do you want to come up?”

We barely made it past the front door, leaving a trail of clothes in our wake. But as much of a hurry he was in to get there, he took his time with me. He ate me out as I bent over the bed, spreading me wide to lick up every inch of space he could, then using his fingers to fuck me until I came over and over again until I finally had to push him away, my pussy and clit oversensitive.

He liked me to ride him in reverse cowgirl, his big hands grabbing my ass and giving light spanks as he guided me up and down on his cock. And when I finally tired out after coming again he pressed me flat to the bed and fucked me so hard my bedposts rattled against the wall.

I ended up screaming Dave after all.

“You’re neighbors are gonna hate me,” he said breathlessly, falling next to me on the bed and getting rid of the condom.

“I hope that means you’re going to be coming over a lot more.. and coming over and over..” I grinned like an idiot as he held me close.

Pickle was insistent on knowing the details, so sure that I was going to tell her Dave was The One. I liked him, but I wasn’t too interested in maintaining an actual relationship. Even if he was hung and could fuck like a machine.

Getting invested in furthering whatever this was with Dave meant I’d eventually meet his kids at one point, and possibly his ex-wife. It was a lot to consider. I was just enjoying myself in the meantime.

We always ended up at my place, even just for lazy nights watching TV. “Are you living in a motel or something?” I teased him one night as we shared Szechuan noodles and pinot noir. “Did your wife get the house in the divorce?”

He just smiled and shook his head. “I’m there a couple nights out of the week, for the girls’ sake,” he said. “I’ve got a place a few blocks over, just to keep close to them.”

“That’s really sweet,” I said, touched by the efforts he made to stay in his daughters’ lives.

“Do I get any points for that?”

Smirking, I climbed onto his lap, grinding down slowly. “Just a few.. for now.”

“Come back to my place,” he invited me after a particularly long makeout session in the car after another date. We were still in the parking lot of the pub, a light rain dotting the windows around us.

“Are you sure?” Secretly I was excited to see where he lived. I wanted to see Dave in his own surroundings for once.

He nodded. “Yeah, come on. You can spend the night if you want.”

We tried to be quiet as we got in the door, but I was too excited, jumping on him immediately. My lips crashed against his as I jumped into his arms. “Take me to your room,” I whispered.

We were having fun under the sheets, Dave especially excitable as he fucked into me with more energy than he ever had before. He flipped me into every position, eager to make me come in every way imaginable. He had me in doggy style when his bedroom door suddenly opened.

I froze, ducking my head even as he kept thrusting into me, the bedframe rattling with the movement.

“Sorry,” someone whispered from the doorway. “It’s just me, honey, I forgot to put your laundry away. I don’t want it staying in the dryer overnight.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” Dave replied, albeit a little breathless.

MOM?? I muffled a shriek and pulled the pillow over my head, tapping Dave’s thigh to signal him to stop.

“Don’t worry, I’m not looking,” Mrs. York said in a teasing manner. It made me want to puke. “David, are you ever going to introduce us to your friend?”

“Dave,” I hissed. “Get. Off. Me.”

“Sure, Mom. Hey, can you hand up those shirts? I don’t want them wrinkled.”

“Of course, honey. And I’ll iron them for you in the morning if they need it. Are you two being safe?”

“Yes, Mom,” he said, somewhat annoyed.

“What’s your name, dear?” the lady asked me. I shook my head, wishing I could shrink or turn invisible.

“She’s Daisy, okay? She’s my girlfriend. Thanks for bringing the laundry, but can you give us some privacy please?”

“Sorry, dear. I’ll get out of your way. You two enjoy, and please don’t make too much noise. I don’t want you to wake your father.”

“I’m already awake,” a deep voice grumbled. I cringed. Both of his parents were in the room.

“Dad!” Dave protested.

“All right, son, we’re leaving. Say good night to your friend from us.”

The door closed. Dave had already gone soft.

“What the hell was that??” I hissed at him, pushing him off me and wrapping the sheet around myself.

“Well.. I’m living with my parents. It’s temporary,” Dave added sheepishly.

“You said you had a place close to your children,” I reminded him.

“I do,” he admitted with a sigh. “My kids are only a short drive from here..”

I shook my head. “Oh my god.. and why the hell did you let them walk in on us?”

“They always do that when I bring a girl over. Ever since high school. Believe me, it’s weird but I’ve learned to just put up with it.”

“It is weird,” I muttered, getting up and putting my clothes back on. “Is that why you never wanted to bring me over?”

“It’s either this or bring you back to the home I still share with my ex-wife.”

“I can’t do this,” I decided. “I’m sorry, Dave. I like you, but this whole situation is just too much.”

Dave sighed deeply, closing his eyes. “Yeah.. I understand.”

I felt bad, but a middle-aged divorced man splitting his time between his ex’s home and his parents’ place was not someone I could continue with. Maybe Dave would reconcile with his wife. Or maybe he’d find someone who was okay being interrupted during sex by his parents as if it were nothing.

All I knew was I had to get out, and that I probably couldn’t trust my sister’s opinions of men from here on out.

dividers by @/strangergraphics 👑

A friend invited me to a party off campus. Nothing special. It was the usual affair – men in their thirties making huge batches of jungle juice, playing bartender for the girls my age. Pretty pathetic overall. Nevertheless I grabbed a cup and poured my own drink – rum and ginger ale – and did a lap around the place. The big screen TV in the living room played Pulp Fiction. I rolled my eyes, looking for a means to escape.

Just to be nosy I wandered through the other rooms. In one a couple was passionately making out on a bed, another woman going down on the man. I closed that door, flustered but also turned on.

I made my way to another bedroom, the walls lined with bookcases filled with movies. Most of them were action, suspense, thriller, horror, even some porn.

“Pretty unoriginal, but he does have a few gems,” a voice said behind me. I turned to see a cute guy, mid-twenties, wavy brown locks that looked bleached naturally by the sun. His eyes crinkled when he smiled, emanating warmth. His voice was tinted with a Spanish accent.

“I’m Javi,” he introduced himself, extending a hand. He had a cup of jungle juice in the other, the ice clinking against the polystyrene.

“Daisy,” I said, taking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He took my hand and turned it over, planting a light kiss on top. “Are you having a good time?”

“Not really,” I admitted. “You?”

“Not really.” He smirked, strolling over to the DVD collection, running his ring-bedecked fingers over the titles, humming to himself as he skimmed them. “Ever seen this one?” He pulled out a copy of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

“No I haven’t..”

He popped it into the DVD player, the screen blinking to life. He plopped on the bed and patted the space next to him. I smiled and sat. The TV glowed, the movie started up.

We sipped our drinks, eventually getting comfortable on the bed. I had to admit, it wasn’t where I expected my night to go. Yet Javi was a perfect gentleman. He even put his arm around me when I started crying. “You could’ve told me this was a breakup movie,” I said through my tears. He smiled and gave me a handkerchief from his pocket to dry my eyes.

“It looks that way at first, but it has a hopeful ending,” he assured me.

I loved that movie. I almost insisted on watching it again, but we decided on another one, a Korean film with subtitles. This one was more action-oriented, taking my mind off everything for another couple of hours.

Javi knew a lot about movies and the filmmaking process. He’d written scripts and hoped to find a production company to make them, or he’d create his own company. He knew so much, but he wasn’t preachy about it. He asked what I liked to watch instead of telling me what I should watch.

He really wasn’t like any guy I’d met before..

At times we were interrupted by other party-goers until I locked the door.

Halfway through the third film the tension became unbearable. Javi was cute, he was nice, and he was there. I realized I hadn’t thought about Patrick in hours.

I made the first move, kissing him. His lips were soft, tangy from the jungle juice, and his hand held the nape of my neck as he kissed me back, slow and deep. When he pulled away his golden brown eyes were nearly overtaken by black. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered.

I’d never been asked that before. Patrick usually settled between my thighs and humped away. Or, if he was too drunk, told me to be on top.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

“Is it okay if I keep kissing you?”

“Yeah,” I whispered before he pressed his lips to mine again, his tongue running along my mouth, asking for entry. I parted my lips and his tongue, warm and strong, moved against mine. I instantly melted. His lips trailed down my neck, hands grabbing my hips, tracing upwards to cup my breasts over my shirt. “Can I have you?” he whispered against my throat.

“Yes,” I whispered back, and we slowly undressed. Layers of clothing were peeled away. Javi reached into the pocket of his jeans, which had been tossed to the floor just moments before, pulling a condom from his wallet, keeping it close by as he took his time to kiss and caress every part of my body. His lips lingered over my breasts, licking and teasing my nipples to stiff peaks before moving down over my belly to my pussy, tongue dipping between my drenched folds. Crying out, my hips bucked up, pleading for more, my fingers tangled in his sunlit curls. He stayed between my legs, his hips rutting against the bed, until I came apart on his tongue once, twice, three times.

I was still reeling from my high when Javi rolled the condom over his length. “Is this still okay?” he asked, positioning himself at my entrance. I gave a breathy sigh of a yes and gasped when he nudged in, my hands gripping his arms as he pushed in slowly, all the way to the hilt. He gave me time to adjust before moving, slow and deep, his eyes exploring my every reaction.

I moved my hips against his, our bodies undulating as one, both of us sighing and gasping. My hands roamed his back, his sides, his hips, his ass. Javi sped up, his breath quickening as he lifted my hips, the sounds of our thighs smacking together over the movie still playing in the background.

“Turn over,” he gasped, pulling out and positioning me on all fours. He pulled my hips back towards him, pushing in again, fingers sliding underneath and finding my clit. I moaned, dropping my head to the pillow as he played with my needy sweet spot, circling and swiping until I came again. Javi’s thrusts grew erratic and quickened before he finally let go, pulling me to him as he came, spilling inside the condom.

My limbs felt like jelly as I lay on my side, watching Javi remove the condom, tie it off, tossing it in the trash. After, we cuddled, too tired to move, and we talked. He told me about his home back in Spain. I told him about my own life, my heartbreak over Patrick. He held me closer as I mourned a man who never really loved me.

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful. I had a really great time with you tonight,” I told him.

“I’m glad you did,” he said sincerely.

“I don’t want you to think I slept with you out of loneliness.”

He smiled. “I don’t. And I don’t want you to think I slept with you out of a purely primal instinct to fuck.”

I chuckled, burying my face in his chest. “I’d be happy if you had.. to be honest, you’re only the second guy I’ve ever been with.”

“Really?” He looked surprised and pleased.

“Yeah.. it’s kind of embarrassing..”

“No, Daisy, I’m honored,” he murmured, kissing the top of my head. “Your ex is obviously an idiot for letting you go.” He paused so long I thought he’d fallen asleep until I looked up at him. He was deep in thought.

“What is it?” I asked gently.

“I’m just thinking.. and forgive me if it’s too soon.. but would you like to come back to Spain with me?”

“What.. really?” I sat up.

“I know it’s sudden, but I think you’d enjoy seeing Mallorca. Sunny beaches, glamorous nightlife.. we could spend the whole summer having fun.”

“It sounds lovely,” I said.

He lifted my chin. “Only if you want to, Daisy.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say yes, but I had no idea why the words wouldn’t come out. “When do you leave?” I asked.

“The day after tomorrow,” he replied. “It’s very short notice, I know.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think the timing is right, Javi..”

“I understand.” He tried to keep from looking disappointed.

After, he offered to drive me back to campus. I brought him up to my dorm, not yet ready to say goodbye yet.

dividers by @/strangergraphics 👑