Rawr:3

Now, ‘bout 2 decades after the world went to shit, the sign was dark. Dark like the rest of this place. You would’ve been a baby when it was open. Hell, it’s probably older than you are. It’s kind of beautiful, if you think about it. You’re on your knees waiting for dick in these ancient ruins, here to worship the gods of anonymous sex, just like so many others who came before you, and probably all over the walls while they were here.

At this point, you might as well chop the number 6 off that sign, and you’d do it if the floor ever needed more broken glass to crunch under your boots. A whopping 60 channels down to 0. The only porn that’d be showing would be if some other patrons were here to make it themselves. Actually, the silence actually made it easier to find a partner. You wouldn’t be trying to make out footsteps from underneath the droning moans of various girls and twinks across dozens of screens. Since this dilapidated sex store was one of the very few cruising grounds left in the Boston QZ, you’d usually hear a couple sets of shoes shuffling around, but tonight was bone dry. For now, at least. You’d only been here for 10 minutes, sitting in a stall by yourself taking a Rorschach test with the cum stains above the gloryhole. Anything to pass the time.

Then, you heard it. That sweet symphony of slow and steady footsteps, atop an orchestra of creaking floorboards. Just one pair, it sounded like. They scoped your surrounding area, checking the stalls in the rows behind you. They got louder and louder, and soon you could hear them coming down your aisle. They stopped when they saw a closed door: yours. Barely hanging onto the hinges with a busted lock to match, but a sign of intelligent life. You saw a flashlight click on, confirming that this stall was indeed occupied, then the light swept past you along with the footsteps. The bright beam circled around you, from the door, down to the floor, and up and over to the gloryhole partitioning your stall and theirs. Bingo. Target acquired.

The flashlight flicked off…

A bag was tossed into the corner…

Another flimsy door squeaked as it shut…

Then, everything was quiet…

…

And the next thing you heard was a belt unbuckling. 

You scrambled into position and peered through the hole. Judging by what you could see—a pudgy, fuzzy belly peeking out from unzipped jeans, and large calloused hands tugging on a fat cock growing harder by the second—they seemed like your type. You stuck your fingers through the hole, beckoning the mysterious suitor to come forth and give you what you came here for. They approached the hole, and you withdrew your fingers to allow them entry. They continued to stroke themselves in preparation, just barely out of your reach, taunting you, mocking you, though you dared not interrupt them. Finally, before the last of your restraint could slip through your fingers, their gorgeous cock slipped through the hole.

“Mmm…” You involuntarily mewled in appreciation, instinctively grabbing the stranger’s dick and kissing its tip. Your tongue teased its slit, coaxing sweet precum to spill from it. You vacuumed the head into your mouth before gliding your lips down the shaft.

The stranger merely grunted, barely audible through the wall. Ah, the quiet type. The kind who keeps their feelings to themselves when they get their dick sucked. You wondered what they were thinking of. What was this for them? A quick stop after the day’s work to blow off some steam? A breach of fidelity against an unsuspecting wife at home? The fulfillment of a long-desired fantasy, or just another Tuesday night blowjob?

Even though your partner wasn’t a talker, their cock was very responsive. You could feel it twitch and leak, pulsating in your mouth, somehow getting even harder than you thought possible. It was the perfect specimen. You had to get it inside you.

You popped your lips off and wrapped your hand around the fat shaft, letting the stranger know that you weren’t going anywhere, and that they shouldn’t either. You stood up and undressed your bottom half with your free hand. Once exposed, you turned around and bent over, attempting to guide the cock into your waiting cunt. Attempting, being the key word there. It’s hard to fuck with a wall in the way.

First, your hips were too high, then too low. Then you got the altitude right, but the angle was all wrong. It started to poke your asshole, which would’ve been fine if you had any lube, but you did not. Looks like it’s front entry only tonight. You tried to put it in your cunt yourself, but your own arm was just getting in the way. Fuck. Okay. Let’s recalibrate. You braced your hands on the wall opposing you, and pushed your hips back, completely airballing the cock. If only your holes had eyes. The flimsy door jiggled as you strained against the walls. You tried again, this time feeling the hard shaft rubbing up against your ass cheek. Getting warmer. Just gotta angle it. Thank god your newfound partner was standing still and letting you do this. You put all your weight into your hands, pushing as hard as you could on the far wall, and went to thrust your hips back once more…

And then the shitty door broke off its hinges and fell backwards on top of you.

You got knocked to the ground with a loud crash and a louder yell of “SHIT!”

“Y’alright in there?” A gravelly voice asked from the other side.

With nothing hurt except your pride, you shouted, “Y-Yeah! I, uhh… I think I’m good! Fuckin’ door fell on me…” You tried pushing it off, but it was too heavy, and too dark to see where you could crawl out from under it. You kicked around on the floor for a few seconds, until the voice asked,

“Need help?”

After taking the time to consider your considerably limited options, you said, “…That would be appreciated, yes.”

And thus your knight in shining armor came to rescue you from entrapment. You heard the click of a flashlight, the rustling of some clothes, and then you saw a haze of light around your wooden prison. Two hands much bigger than yours slipped under one side of the door and pried it off you, freeing you and allowing you to meet your hero face to face. You were greeted by the sight of a concerned, rugged, sexy older man, and you already knew he was packing heat in his pants. He was everything you could’ve hoped for.

You, on the other hand, were not given positive feedback upon first glance. When the light was on your face, you gave him a timid, lighthearted and limpwristed wave, and he merely furrowed his brow in response. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, kid, how old’re ya?”

“23,” You said, sitting upright on the floor, criss-cross applesauce, your bare cunt hiding in plain sight. “I’m legal, I swear.”

“Still, that’s…” He grumbled, casting his eyes away from your distressingly youthful face. “You’re too young for this. Shit, I been coming to places like this since before you were born…”

You felt honored to be in the presence of such a historian. “Really? Wow…” So many questions you could ask. What was it like back then? Were there a lot of places like this? Did you go to them a lot? What was your best experience? While you flipped through the available dialogue responses, you reached up to palm his still-hard cock, which he’d tucked back into his boxer-briefs, his fly still unzipped. You smiled up at him seductively, and selected the statement, “That’s kinda hot…”

The stranger chuckled, enamored by your boldness and naivety. “The hell were you even try’na do just now t’ make the door fall off like that?”

“I was trying to get you into my… my, uh…” Oh, shit. How the fuck do you explain that? You were counting on the wall between you two to keep your secret safe. Semantics didn’t matter in the dark; a hole’s a hole. You twiddled your thumbs and subtly opened your legs, waiting for the stranger to see for himself.

And indeed he did see. He locked eyes with it, and knelt down to see it up close. “How’d you get that?”

You shrugged. “Was born with it...”

“No shit…” Joel pushed your legs further apart to ogle your pussy. His rough fingers spread your lips, and he made a confused face at the sight of your t-dick. You couldn’t blame him, though. He’d probably never seen anything like it. “That s’posed to be your clit?”

“Mhm…” You nodded.

“Why’s it so big? Looks like you got a tiny li'l dick.”

You puffed a breathy laugh, “Heh heh… Hormones…”, hoping that’d be a sufficient explanation.

And it was. “Huh. Cool.” He mumbled, and nonchalantly rolled his thumb over it. Your entire body jolted forward, grabbing onto his bicep to ground yourself, and he pulled back. “Woah, y’alright? Want me to stop?”

“No, no, no, you’re fine… Y-You’re okay, just…” You took a sharp inhale, a deep breath that shuddered on its way out. You batted your eyelashes at him, a gesture of playful confidence alongside the intimacy and vulnerability of eye contact. “Just keep going… Please…”

That eye contact between you two didn’t last long. Your partner shifted his focus downwards. He had to. He couldn't go in blind. You were something new, uncharted territory to explore and conquer. He traced two of his fingers up the length of your pussy until they diverged at your dick. They pinched your tiny length and jerked you, tentatively at first. Though when you twitched, and let out the sweetest little cry of,

“Aah~! Fu-u-uck…”

He was hooked, both metaphorically and literally now with his arm around your waist, tugging you into his lap. He took you into his experienced embrace and started to jerk you off like he meant it. Those big, rough man-hands, worn from decades of hard labor, more decades of handling dick than your entire existence, were fucking amazing. Your mind went dumb in seconds, your face slumped against his chest, pawing at his flannel shirt and whimpering. Honestly, you were so deep in a trance that you didn’t even realize it when you said,

“Nnnn, Daddy…”

The stranger stopped dead in his tracks. He knotted his fingers in your hair and ripped your head backward. A searing pain shot from your scalp, down your spine and snapping it into an arch. You made a sound somewhere between a wince and a whine, and the thickest, deepest, roughest voice you’d ever heard growled at you, “The fuck you just call me?”

Oh shit, oh god, oh fuck fuck fuck. You froze. Suddenly you were a prey animal, a helpless little bunny rabbit with no chance of winning against the big bad wolf. Or, probably more accurately, you were a clueless dipshit hunter who stepped in his own fucking bear trap. Then and only then did you realize the sheer stupidity of what you were doing. It’s almost if going out alone to fuck strangers is risky, or something. Huh. Who'da thunk it. You better pray he has mercy on you. 

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” You chanted, hoping your repeated apologies would smooth things over with him. They didn’t seem to be doing anything, so you tried to explain yourself. “It’s just, I… I don’t know your name, so-“

But he wasn’t buying it. “Oh, cut the shit. That ain’t why ya said it.”

You stammered, trying to make sense of his accusation. “I… I don’t—I don’t understand…” 

“It’s Joel.”

“Huh?”

“My name. It’s Joel." He said with no pleasantry in his tone, "‘N’ now that’cha know that, how’s about you look me in the fuckin’ eye and tell me you don’t still wanna call me Daddy?”

Motherfucker. This guy could read you like a book. Like a book intended to teach reading to children, you were that easy. Your Very Hungry Caterpillar lookin’ ass had nothing to say in your own defense. There was nothing to say, except maybe “I… I do… I do wanna… call you Daddy…”

With your admission, Joel relaxed his grip, but still held onto your hair. “Good boy…” He mused. That Southern drawl of his, rich and sweet like honey, seeped into the valleys of your brain‘s wrinkles. “Daddy’s got you.”

He pressed his lips to yours, and you were gone, completely blasted into subspace, perfectly malleable for him. Joel was a good kisser. Slow, but firm. Dominant. His slightly chapped lips coaxed you open, sculpting himself into you with that scratchy beard against your skin. You draped your arms over his shoulders and let him lead. He smelled like aftershave over man-musk with a light tinge of cigarettes or maybe pot smoke. Intoxicating. His hand untangled itself from your hair, now petting instead of pulling, as the other trailed back down to your tiny cock, squeezing and rolling it between his fingers. 

“O-Oh~! D-Daddy!” you squealed. 

“I know, baby, I know. Be good. Be a good boy, and Daddy’s gonna make you feel real good, okay?”

“Mmm, okay, Daddy…”

“Attaboy.” Joel dotted kisses from your lips to your jaw and to the side of your neck. It was unprecedented, how quickly you latched onto him, but understandable. An older man taking a young boy like you into his arms, holding him tight, telling him to be good. Of course you’d be putty in his hands. Your train of thought was just sampling and remixing his praise over and over. I know, baby. I know. Daddy’s got you. Be good. Be a good boy. Good boy. Daddy’s got you. Oh, Daddy’s got you, alright. Daddy’s got you wrapped around his fucking finger. 

“Ohhh, Daddy, pleeease, I… I want…” You swallowed, attempting to choke down a moan. It didn’t work. “Ngah, I want your cock in meee…”

“Quit whinin’, whore. I’ll fuck ya when I feel like it.”

Well, that was some tonal whiplash. Just a few seconds earlier he was cooing to you, encouraging you to be a good boy for him. Now you were nothing but a whore, just three warm holes for him to blow a load into. You couldn’t cope, and you certainly weren’t above begging for it. “Nooo, nononono, please, Daddy, please fuck me, please fuck me, I-AH!”

A swift bitchslap ended the discussion on that. Evidently, your Daddy believed in the old ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’ expression.

“Told ya to quit whinin’,” Joel hissed as he grabbed you by the jaw and dug his nails into your face. “You’re the one who wanted a Daddy, right? Well, now you got one. And Daddy don’t like when his bitches talk back. Got it?” 

“S-Sorry!” You cried, “I’m sorry, Daddy! I’m sorry, I–Ohhh, fuuuck, yeees…”

In the midst of your bitching and moaning, Joel plunged two fingers into your dripping cunt, dragging and twisting them any which way he pleased. 

“Aw, pretty boy’s got a tight little kitty now, don’t he?” He sneered. Even his compliments were backhanded. “‘N’ so wet, too… How many cocks you take up here before?”

“I do–oh! Fuck!” You yelped when his fingers tapped your g-spot, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck in an attempt to hide. “I don’t… I don’t know!”

“Yes you do, slut.” He took you by the hair again and tore you out of your hiding spot. “Tell me.”

You gulped. “N-No, I really… I really don’t… I stopped counting…”

Joel was stunned by your admission of guilt. Initially, he’d felt bad about hooking up with someone so much younger. He’d felt like he was corrupting you. Like a dirty old man creeping on someone young enough to be his kid. But now, any shred of hesitation had been tossed out the window. After all, you can only get so dirty, right? It’s not like he’d be doing any more damage to you. He laughed with a cynical sense of admiration. “Oh, you’re nasty, kid… Nasty little fuckin’ cuntboy…” Joel slid his fingers out of your cunt and stuffed them into your mouth, making you slurp your arousal off them. “You want mine too, huh? You want me on your fuckin’ dick list? Your li’l whore roster?”

You nodded with his digits pressed into your tongue and drool dripping down your chin. 

He slid his wet fingers out of your mouth, smearing spit all over your face, and grabbed your jaw again. “I need ya to say it, boy. Say ‘I want my Daddy’s big cock in my little wet whore hole.’”

You pursed your lips and whined, hoping you could weasel your way out of saying something that degrading. “Daddy, pleeease…”

“Y’ain’t gettin’ it ‘til ya say it.”

Fuck. No such luck. Oh, well. If that’s what you had to do to get what you needed, so be it. “I want... I want my Daddy’s big cock in my little…” The sharp, cruel words seemed to cut your vocal cords like shards of glass. “w-wet… whore hole…”

“Good job, slut.” Joel said flatly before nudging you off his lap. “On your back.” 

You rolled onto the hardwood floor, opened your legs, held them up by your ankles, and brought your knees to your chest. Such an obedient little slut you were, assuming the position perfectly, not even caring about the dingy, disgusting floor you were lying on. Fuck it. At least it was dry. Well, for now, at least. Who’s to say that you wouldn’t be the one leaving behind a puddle of mystery liquid. Actually, that reminds you…

“Oh! I, uh, I should probably warn you… I squirt.”

“Fine by me,” Joel knelt in front of you and took hold of you by your hips. He dragged you up his thighs and then pulled your legs even wider apart. You’d certainly feel that stretch in the morning, likely along with several others. “You clean?” He asked out of the blue.

You tilted your head, mesmerized by the sudden question. “Hah…? Wha?”

“I said, are you clean? Like ya get tested and stuff?” He explained, hastily fishing his cock out of his pants.

How genuinely reassuring. He actually gave one tiddlywink of a fuck about your wellbeing. It was a nice surprise. “Oh!” You nodded confidently, “Yeah! I’m good!  And, I’m on, uh… I’m on birth control, too, so, uh… if you wanna…”

Joel snickered, “Well, shit, that’s a tempting offer.”

And you smirked back, “You gonna take me up on it?”

“Just might have to…” He leaned down to kiss your neck, that scratchy stubble tickling you again. “Ya want Daddy raw?” 

“Mhm…”

“Gotta say it, pumpkin. Say you want Daddy raw.”

“I want Daddy raw… I want Daddy raw…” You babbled, grabbing onto his flannel shirt and climbing up his chest. One of your hands landed perfectly on his pocket, in which was a small, hard object. Maybe glass? You couldn’t tell through the fabric. “Mm? What’s this?” You asked, prodding the hidden treasure. 

“What, this?” Joel huffed and reached into his pocket, retrieving a teensy tiny glass bottle, bearing the remnants of a red and yellow label eroded by time. “They’re called poppers. You ever heard of ‘em?”

You shook your head. No clue. 

“‘s basically nail polish remover,” Joel said, unscrewing the cap and bringing it to his face. “Ya huff the fumes, and it relaxes your muscles. Opens you up. Gives you a rush for like 30 seconds. Feels pretty intense.” He brought the lip of the bottle to his nostril and huffed it. 

Oh, yeah. That sounds vaguely familiar. You heard a rumor that gay men would huff chemicals for sex, supposedly to make anal easier. This must be that. You counted his breath, trying to gauge how big of a hit one’s supposed to take. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5… 

Then the other nostril. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

He let out a rumbly exhale and held it out to you. “You wanna try?”

Under most circumstances, you think you’d know better than to huff strange chemicals offered to you by a stranger. But something about him—his paternal vibe, his subtle gestures of care, and the fact that he huffed it first—was trustworthy. You decided to go for it. “Sure!”

“Kay. I’mma give you a little to start. See how you react.” Joel touched the bottle to one of your nostrils. “Breathe it in.”

You did as you were told, and inhaled, not as long as he did. 1, 2, 3…

And then he pulled it away, screwed the top back on, and plopped it back in his pocket. 

“Tap me if ya want more.” He grabbed hold of your thighs and held them open. His bulbous tip started to poke at your cunt, already juicy and winking at him. “Ready?”

Feeling the come up of the poppers, you sighed blissfully, “Yeah…”

“Deep breath for me baby. In…”

You listened to your Daddy and took a deep breath in…

“And out.”

…and let it go.

“Hahhh–ah! Fuck! Ngh! Yes!”

And then your Daddy’s massive cock ripped your tiny twat open for him. It stung, for sure, but whatever jungle juice type concoction in that bottle must’ve helped. There was a dull ache as he continued to push in, seemingly moving your internal organs out of his way, but it was nothing compared to the floating, swirling sensations you were feeling everywhere else.

“Shhh, take it, baby…” Joel cooed. He let go of one of your legs, which you instinctively crooked behind his back. He leaned down, planting his now free hand on the floor for balance, and kissed you on your forehead. “You can take it… Just gotta get used t’me, is all…”

“It’s so… It’s so deep…”

“Yeah, baby, I know… I know it is…” Joel validated you verbally, but kept pressing in deeper. And deeper. Deeper than you thought your cunt could go. 

“F-Fuck!” You cried out in surprise and pulled him tight against you, chest to chest. It wasn’t necessary; he definitely wasn’t going anywhere, not after burying himself in your body like this. You just needed the contact, physical touch to help you cope. You were honestly mesmerized. It felt like his cockhead was in the back of your throat. You’d never felt anything like it; no dick or dick substitute before had come close. “H-How… Haha… Wha… What the fuck?! How do you do that?!”

Joel laughed against you, his belly rumbling against yours. “I don’t… I don’t know? You just feel real nice, kid. Makes me wanna get real deep in ya… S’okay. You’ll get used to me…” He reiterated.

And with time, you did. Your body gradually relaxed around him, and you felt a deep buzzing sensation within your pussy, an itching need for more. 

“You can move now…”

“Yeah?” Joel hummed, and left another sweet smooch on your cheek. “Ya sure?”

“Yeah-yeah! Fuck!”

He cut you off with a firm snap of his hips, spiking his cock deep inside you in one hard hit. 

Then another. 

“Daddy!”

And another. And soon he had a steady beat going, a beat accented by your cute little yelps,

“Aah!… Fuck!… Oh!… Mm!”

and your feeble attempts at communicating in a complete sentence. 

“Fuck!… Fuck!… Daddy!… B-Big!… Cock!…”

Joel smirked as he drilled your cunt. “Daddy’s got a big cock, huh? You like your Daddy’s big cock?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, fuck! Yes!”

“Say it.” He commanded, “Say your Daddy has a big cock.”

“My Daddy has a big cock!” You cried out, your voice echoing through the rubble of humanity’s ancient vices. Maybe in another life, years before your time, there was another little cuntboy, an ethereal deity crowned and illuminated by a neon halo, who once whined the same thing as you, in the exact same spot as you, with the exact same cadence as you. “My Daddy has a big cock!!!”

“Mmm, damn right, I do, boy.” Joel grunted, barely audible over your audacious bitching and moaning. Even when you blew him earlier, he was quiet. Maybe he just doesn’t feel the need to make noise, or maybe he’s shy. You, on the other hand, couldn’t shut the fuck up. Any half-baked thought in your fucked-out mind slipped out with no filter in its way. 

“Daddy! Daddy! Fuck me, fuck me, Daddy! Yes! God, fuck me, yes! So deep! So fucking deep! Oh my god, you’re so fuck—fucking deep, Daddy! So fucking big! Ah~!”

“Christ, yer fuckin’ loud.” Joel huffed, “Wake the dead with a voice like that.”

“W-Want me to… mmm, be quiet?”

“Nah, scream for me, bitch. Ain’t nobody here but us.” Joel grabbed you by your shoulders and squeezed your whole body against him, jerking off with your very being like a living fleshlight. It worked like a charm, making you howl even louder. 

“Fuck! Ahhh, fuuuuck, ye-e-e-e-es!” 

While getting your guts rearranged on the grimy floor, you happened to crack your eye open, and you saw something. No, someone. Someone was tugging their cock as they watched you through the doorway. It turns out you were not the only ones here. Joel was facing the other way, meaning he couldn’t see them, but he stopped when he heard a cough that didn’t come from you. 

“Hm?” He looked up and saw the voyeur enjoying your show. But it didn’t bother him. He just went right back to work. “Well, goddamn. Looks like you got us a little audience, baby boy. Look at you. Star of the show.” He praised, and gave you a proud smack on the ass. “I’mma fuck you doggy. Get on all fours.”

Sure, you know he meant doggy style, but damn, if only he’d enunciated a comma. As in “I’mma fuck you, doggy.” Now wouldn’t that be something. It fits. You’re dumb, obedient, and eager to please. That fat cock slid out of you, leaving you unbearably empty, and you crawled onto your knees. It was more of a downward doggy style, with your cheeks resting against your arms, crossed and propped up on the floor. Face down, ass up. A classic. 

“Perfect,” Joel praised, punctuating his compliment with another spank, “Good boy.”

“Nnn, thank you~” You whined. Pathetically. You tend to do that a lot, especially when a big cock splits your cunt in half. Again. “Mmm, fuckfuckfuck!”

“Yeah, c’mon, now, take it. Take that dick, take that dick, pretty boy. You got it. Daddy’s got you.” Joel cooed as he bottomed out from behind. He gave you some time to adjust to him before his hips retreated, a deliberately slow drag out, then a hard pump back in,

“Ah-ha~!”

then another,

“Fu-u-uck~!”

and another,

“Daddy~!”

And soon he was fucking you a tempo. You cocked your head to the side and rested it on your forearms. Without the luxury of even a dingy motel pillow to grab while a stranger fucks you raw, you had to resort to your own body for comfort. Sniffling, drooling, dripping with depravity as this old man cored you out, you were distracted by a distinct—

Thump. 

—right above your ear. Right where the gloryhole was. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what caused it.

But you didn’t get a chance to confirm your suspicions before Joel intervened. 

“Hey.”

He grabbed your hair and yanked your head up from the floor, the cock grazing your cheek as a result. 

“Suck it. C’mon, now. Be a good boy. Suck ‘em like you sucked me.”

You needed no motivation beyond that. Being a good boy for Daddy was enough to get you to suck another strange cock through a hole in the wall. You wrapped your lips around it and slurped their half-hard, less impressive length all into your mouth at once. It wasn’t the best blowjob you’d given, after all you were more than a little preoccupied, but it made Joel proud. 

“Yeah, that’s it, good boy.” He purred, petting your hair as he continued to use your cunt, “Put that little whore mouth to work. Do a good job, now. Bet a lotta guys here gon’ want a turn on you.”

Threatening you with a good time, now, wasn’t he? You dutifully sucked the mediocre cock in front of you, choking on it not from size but from your own pleasured sobs interrupting your work. The stranger didn’t seem to mind. In fact, they seemed to be enjoying themselves, heavy breathing behind the wall, twitching and leaking precum on your tongue. Suddenly, they retreated from your mouth, and blinded you with a spray of hot jizz, painting your whole face from hairline to chin. Some dripped into your mouth, and it tasted… a little yucky, but tolerable. It felt nice on your face though, and Joel loved your new look. 

“Ooh, yeah, pretty boy. So cute, takin’ it on the chin like that. Little fuckin’ cumwhore, aint’cha, queer?” He spanked your left ass cheek, then your right, and jiggled them both before yanking you backwards, “C’mere,” and pulling out to flip you on your back. “Let Daddy look at’cha.”

His firm muscular hand grasped you by the chin and squished your cheeks, anonymous cum cascading down his fingers. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he mused, jiggling your jaw back and forth. His other hand dipped into his shirt pocket and retrieved the bottle of poppers. He cracked it open, served himself, then loosely capped the bottle and held it out for you. “Help yourself, sweetheart.”

You took the bottle in your hands and huffed its fumes one nostril at a time, perhaps a little too hard on the second one. The caustic liquid shot up and singed the inside of your nostril, leaving behind a poignant sting. Though briefly disoriented upon splashback, you finagled the cap back on and clutched the bottle in your fist as Joel pushed back inside.

“Fu-u-uck, Daddy! Daddy~!” you cried, curling up into him. 

Joel didn’t answer you. He was too preoccupied with bending your body in half and squatting over you into a mating press. He had the perfect angle to dig deep. Deep. So. Fucking. Deep. The sound of his balls slapping against your sodden cunt was salacious and sickeningly loud. 

“Aw, poor baby, look at you. You’re just a hot mess, ain’t ‘cha boy?.” Joel punctuated his statement by spitting in your face. The glob of spit mixed with some cum, rolled down into your mouth, and naturally, you swallowed. “You wanna take my load inside you though, right? Want me to breed ya?”

“Yes! Yes, please, inside! Please, inside, fill me up! Please breed me! Knock me up, please!!!” 

“Relax, boy,” Joel stilled inside you, your cunt throbbing petulantly in need of friction. “I‘m not there yet. And besides,” He gave your clit a sharp slap, making you jump, yelp, and clench around him, “I ain’t cummin’ ‘til I see this kitty squirt for me, ya hear?”

A feeble whine of “Okay…” was all you could manage at the present moment. Your mind was gone, floating away with the rest of your being, or at least it would be but for the iron grip your pussy had on his cock, tethering you to reality, to him. All of your body’s strength went into your cunt, contracting, squeezing, milking him for all he was worth. Was he the perfect fit? Or were you just that good at taking him? Either way, your inner walls shifted, and you felt the ridge of his cockhead scrape your g-spot, a shock to your whole system. “Fuck! There! Right there!”

“Where, right here?” Joel asked, making sure to strike you at the same angle again. He hissed when he felt you clench and whimper in response. “Oh, yeah, that’s the spot, ain’t it? Gon’ cum for me, baby boy?”

“I–ah! Fuck! So close! Daddy! P-Please!”

Joel grabbed your hand and brought it to your own cunt. “Jerk that tiny little dick for me, pretty boy. Come on. Cum on Daddy’s cock. Lemme feel it. Lemme feel ya fuckin’ gush.”

You pinched your aching t-dick and stroked it vigorously, your fingers occasionally slipping off due to your own wetness. Luckily, it didn’t take much to send you over the edge. With a loud, embarrassing squeal, you squirted all over Joel: his cock, his belly, and his jeans that he’d foolishly left partway on. Although, he didn’t seem to mind, that is, until your orgasm pushed his cock out. 

“Nuh uh, don’t kick me out.” Joel growled, grabbing his cock and forcing it back inside you. He made sure to look you right in the eye as he said, “Don’t you fuckin’ kick me out, whore.”

You sniveled and cried, continuing to squirt as he rammed the rest of your climax out of you. A certified mess, head to toe, covered in bodily fluids: cum, sweat, spit, squirt, and now, tears. “I’m s-sor—I’m sorry-y-y, Daddy-y-y…”

“Aw, no, honey, ‘s’okay. I know you ain’t mean it.” Joel cupped your face in his hand, swiping your tears and some jizz away with his thumb. “Jus’ can’t handle a big cock like mine, huh? Too much for your little kitty to take, ain’t it?”

You nuzzled your face into his hand, “Mhm…”

“Well, I’m almost there, sweetheart, don’t you worry. Little kitty’s gon’ get her cream.”

Your face soured at the wrong pronoun being used for your “kitty”, as he’d so affectionately called it. You saw fit to gently correct him. “H-His…”

“Hm?”

“His cream… p-please…” You mumbled.

“Right, my bad, sweetie.” Joel craned himself down to kiss your forehead once more, “Your little kitty’s gon’ get all the cream he can handle.”

You giggled and wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug, pulling him somehow even deeper into your guts.  “Thank you Daddy–fuck! Fuck, oh my god, how do you do that?!”

“‘m not doin’ anything, honey. That’s all you, openin’ up for me, pretty boy.” Joel cooed, slowing his thrusts to sharply punctuate his words. “Such a good boy, openin’ up that pretty cunt for me. I only got so much dick I can give ya, y’know.” 

Easy for him to say when he’s not the one taking it. Because what he sees as only “so much dick” to give, taking it feels like so. much. dick. 

“Fuuuck, Daddy, god, Daddy, you’re stretching me out~!”

“Shh, sh, pumpkin, it’s okay… you’re okay… You’re okay, keep squeezin’ it. Keep squeezin’ it. Mmm, hold onto Daddy, now—gooood boy…”

You flexed your inner muscles, all of your body’s strength around his cock, determined to milk this motherfucker dry. Your brain had no room for rational thought. You were overtaken by one desire, one primal urge that unites and drives all life on this planet: breed, breed, breed. 

All you wanted, all you needed, to feel was him shooting a big warm batch of his babies into you. You had no bandwith left to think, especially not with him asking you,

“What’s my name, pretty boy?”

Your answer was instantaneous, a reflex at this point, “Dadd—!“

“Nope, mm mm, nuh uh. I said my name, pretty boy… You rememb—?” Joel’s question was cut off by an unintentional clenching of your cunt around his cock. “Nghhh, Shit, shit, shit, so fuckin’ tight…*inhale*  Woah-h-h…” He panted heavily, trying to regain his composure and finish his thought. “You… You remember my name, don’t ‘cha?” 

You rifled through the folders in your brain’s filing cabinet. Everything you pulled out was blank. Blank after blank after blank. Shit. What was this guy’s name again? He definitely told you. It starts with a J right? That tracks. He seems like a J-name kinda guy. 

“Uhhh…”

“It’s Joel.”

“JOEL!” You shouted in his face, the pieces all put together, and repeated his name as a sacred rite on your way to another heavenly climax. Your one hand still clenching the poppers, your other fisted his hair. “Joel, Joel, oh my god, Joel! Joel, Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t! Joel, Joel, fuck, fuck me, Joel, I can’t— I’m gonna! C-Cum again!”

“Do it.” Joel snarled, his hips stuttering inside you, “Fuckin’ do it, cum on this dick, pretty boy, I—Yeah, fuck! Gon’ fuckin bust inside you, yeah. Yeah-h-h, oh, fuckin’ take it.”

Your orgasm, its vice grip and burst of wetness, triggered Joel’s. He sunk his teeth into the spot where your neck and shoulder met, growling into your flesh as he emptied himself into you. He gave you a few hard thrusts to kick out any lingering ropes of cum, not wanting to waste a single drop. You were gonna take everything he had to give. 

And you certainly took everything out of him.

He collapsed on top of you, his sweaty flannel against your equally sweaty tank top, his arms caging you in a delightful aroma of man-musk and sex. Post-sex endorphins washed over you both, making you feel floaty and giddy inside each other’s afterglow. Joel was the first to verbalize it.

“Jesus H. Christ, kiddo, that was… Fuck, you’re incredible. Pussy make a man feel young again.”

Sufficiently fucked, without much intelligent thought left in you, you chuckled and petted his hair. “Mmm, hehehehe, thank you~… You’re… fucking amazing”

“Aw, you’re welcome, sweetie pie.” Joel gave you a peck on the lips, and adjusted his hips the tiniest bit, though it was enough to send you into an irrational panic.

“Nooo, nonono, don’t—don’t pull out!” You cried, locking your limbs around him and keeping him anchored to you.

“Alright, alright,” Joel laughed and settled back into you, “Relax, pumpkin. I’ll keep it in for a bit. You just can’t seem to let go of your Daddy, now, can ya?”

“Nope! Hehehe…” You giggled, mind fuzzy, cunt satisfied, heart content, and sighed. “Ah… Fuck.” 

“Should prolly wipe the jizz off your face too.” Joel reached into his left back pocket and pulled out a dark blue bandana to wipe you clean. “Lemme get it for ya.”

His delicate touch with the hanky was so soothing, so paternal. You purred as the rough fabric wiped your sins away, and when you were all clean, he dropped it on the floor beside you both. 

“Alright, I’m pullin’ out, now. My leg’s cramping. And we sure as shit ain’t sleepin like this.”

You rolled your eyes and pouted petulantly. “Boo…”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the worst.” Joel scoffed, then slowly, gingerly pulled his soft cock out of you, admiring the pool of white that followed it and dribbled onto the floor. “Ooh, wow, that’s a big load. Dumped a whole damn little league team into ya.” He gave your tender cunt an attaboy-type slap, then stood up and held his hand out for you to join him.

“Thank you,” You said, stumbling as you rose to your feet. As you reached for your discarded pants, you realized you were still holding the poppers. “Oh! This is yours.”

“Eh, you keep ‘em. I can get more. ‘s no trouble.” Joel stretched his arms over his head and cracked his neck, seemingly resetting himself after such a draining activity. “Okay… How’re you getting home, kid?”

You nonchalantly waved it off, “Oh, I’m walking. It’s just a couple blocks.”

“‘Couple long blocks?”

“Uh…”

“Gonna be sneakin’ around past curfew y’know. Mind ‘f I walk ya home? Just for my own peace of mind, honestly. Hate to never see ya again.” 

“Sure! Thank you!”

“No prob. Least I could do for ya.”

Arms linked together, you both crept through the back alleys of the QZ to get to your place. Without the freedom to talk, you pointed out which turns to make, which blocks to avoid, and which FEDRA pigs (all of them) should be flipped the bird as you snuck behind them.

“Welp. This is me,” You said when you arrived at the front door to your place. “Thank you again. For like… everything, tonight. I had a great time.”

“You’re welcome, babe.” Joel patted you on the shoulder, then looked both ways down your block. “Think you live pretty close to me, actually. I’ll have to come by some time.”

“Tomorrow evening?”

“I got late shift sewer maintenance,” Joel crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side, “I can’t in good conscience come over and fuck ya after that.”

You snorted, “Fair enough. Day after?”

“Yeah… should be good. I can do that.”

“Great!” You said eagerly, standing outside your house, expectantly. Stalling for time, maybe? Joel could tell something was on your mind.

“Y’alright? Look like ya got somethin’ ya wanna say.”

“Well, yeah, uh…”

You tried to think of the most tactful way you could phrase your request. You thought you landed it with,

“Would you like to come inside?”

but you walked right into this one,

Joel was already in your booth when you pushed through the door—the old ripped up one, tucked against the back wall near the kitchen.

He glanced up over the rim of his mug as the door jingled.

"There he is. Thought you got lost."

Your coffee was already sitting across from his, cream exactly the way you liked it.

The place smelled like burnt coffee, fryer grease, and syrup. Somebody had fed a few quarters into the old jukebox, filling the diner with low country music that mixed with clattering dishes from the back.

"Hey, you." You said, not even touching the menu. You didn't need it, you already knew what you wanted.

The waitress wandered over with a pen and pad on stand by before you even settled into the booth.

"Y'all want your usual?" she asked.

Joel answered before you could.

"Yeah."

You'd only been apprenticing under Joel for a few weeks, but lunch at Ellie's had already become part of the job. Some days you'd eat before heading out. Other days you'd stumble in afterwards covered in drywall dust, arguing about whether or not that doorframe was uneven or about a deck tint.

But you weren't new to this.

You'd met Joel through Tommy, who had gotten married to your cousin Maria the previous fall. Tommy had seen your work. A kitchen table you'd built for your mother, the shed you'd helped build with your uncle. You were capable, sure, you just needed the experience to go with it. Which is where Joel came in.

You started apprenticing in May. The pay was decent, the work kept your hands busy, and the schedule fit around your night shifts at the gas station.

Joel probably had a decade on you, if you had to guess. Maybe thirty-two or thirty-three. He was handsome, definitely, but you hadn't dared to make a thing out of it. You caught yourself looking a little longer than you probably should whenever he laughed. Not that it happened often.

There was no point entertaining the idea anyway. Dating was complicated enough as a trans man living in a town where everybody seemed to know everybody else's business. Throw in the fact that Joel was your boss, and the fantasy died pretty quick.

"You coulda told me about that traffic." You said, clutching your coffee cup. "I-10 was so backed up that I just pulled into the grass and turned around."

Joel snorted. "You know that's illegal, right?"

You shrugged and reached into your pocket, pulling out your wallet before dropping it on the table. "Didn't get caught, though."

"Miracle, considerin' who's behind the wheel."

You frowned. "I've never hit anything."

Joel lifted an eyebrow. "Jeremy's mailbox."

"That mailbox was already leaning."

"I bet." Joel said, taking another sip from his coffee cup.

Joel always had this half-smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth whenever he looked your way, like he was holding back a comment he'd already decided wasn't worth saying. Sometimes it made you wonder if he'd already figured you out. Every now and then he'd study your face for just a moment too long, or catch himself looking before glancing away. Maybe he was just thinking. Maybe he was trying to remember measurements for the next job. But you couldn't help but feel like maybe, just maybe, you'd let too much slip through the cracks.

You weren't embarrassed about it, hell no. You just knew the way cisgender men around here could be, especially considering that you were in a male dominated career. You were a man, a capable man, you'd proven it time and time again. But you didn't want any trouble, not with Joel, and not with any clients.

After wrapping up your late lunch, the two of you ducked out the door. You stopped near the threshold, retrieving a battered pack of cigarettes from your pocket. You pat two out onto your hand and after propping one between your lips, you offered Joel the other.

"Dunno why you always ask," Joel shook his head and raised a flatten palm.

"M' trying to be thoughtful, old man." You rolled your eyes, cupping your cigarette with one hand and sparking your lighter with the other.

Joel frowned slightly.

"Wind's kickin' up."

He stepped around you like it was a given, putting himself between you and the breeze.

You didn't notice until your lighter caught on the first try.

"Still oughta quit that." He said, both hands in his pockets and his boot mindlessly kicking at the dirt.

If only you hadn't heard that a million times before.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So is drinking."

"Quit that."

Joel exhaled through his nose. "One of us has got to have a little sense."

"I'll be alright, I think." You took a slow drag, blowing smoke off to one side.

"I'd like to see ya with all your teeth in ten years."

"Oh, I bet you would." You snickered with a shit-eating grin.

The corner of Joel's mouth twitched before he could stop it. He covered it by folding his arms across his chest. "...Don't flatter yourself."

"Too late."

He shook his head, looking away toward the parking lot. "You're impossible."

"I've been told."

"By me."

"Mostly by you."

Joel sighed, though there wasn't much irritation behind it anymore.

"Okay, okay," you relented. "I've been trying to taper off, if it makes you feel any better."

Joel was quiet for a spell.

"...Good."

It was such a simple answer that you almost missed it.

Joel wasn't the type to fuss over people. If anything, he usually kept whatever he was thinking to himself.

Which made it all the stranger that he seemed to care whether you quit smoking.

You chose not to think too hard about why.

(Three months later)

"No— It has to be an inch and a half. No it'll be too short for the— I understand, Mr. Fischer, but we'll be there in less than ten minutes. Let us figure it out." You held your phone to your ear with one hand and the wheel with the other.

"Yes, I'm driving."

You sighed.

"...No, Joel isn't driving."

Beside you, Joel slowly turned his head.

"No, sir, I haven't hit any mailboxes since then."

Joel quietly covered his mouth with one hand, as he twisted the volume button down on the radio.

"Alright, we'll see you soon. Seeya."

You slowed at a stop light and groaned, letting your forehead fall against the wheel.

"Don't."

Joel looked out the windshield. "…Wasn't gonna say anything."

You glanced over, "Liar."

"Reckon that mailbox is more famous than our entire operation, here."

You grimaced, starting down the road again as the light turned green. "Not my fault everyone and their mother saw it."

"Tommy didn't see it."

"No, but he still makes fun of me for it."

Joel leaned back in his seat. "...Told him to knock it off."

"You what?"

He shrugged, like it wasn't worth talking about.

"Joke got old."

You smiled to yourself.

"...Didn't know you were in my corner." You said, almost sarcastically.

Joel was quiet for a moment, watching the road roll by outside the window.

"...Something like that."

You stopped at the first gas station on the way. The sign was a big faded metal piece hanging in the window that read "JESSE'S PIT STOP, open 24 hours!"

You shouldered through the glass door, Joel a few inches behind you.

It was the kind of mom-and-pop shop that hadn't changed in twenty years. Dirty linoleum with a foot path worn through the aisles and little displays of vapes and cigarettes on the front counter. The air smelled faintly of gasoline, burnt coffee, and stale cigarettes. Somewhere overhead, a fluorescent tube buzzed loud enough to make your head start to ache.

Joel meandered off toward the coffee station while you made for the coolers, though you caught him glancing your way every few seconds.

Two men occupied the far aisle. They both sported leather, grease-stained boots and patched vests. One of them glanced up as you walked by before returning to whatever he'd been looking at.

You reached into the cooler and grabbed the closest can you could find.

As you backed out, you noticed one of the men hadn't moved. With plenty of room behind him and plenty of room beside him.

He watched you anyway.

His elbow drove into your shoulder as you attempted to squeeze past, despite there being more than enough room.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Joel straighten from the coffee machine.

"Asshole." You scoffed under your breath as you started towards the front counter. The man didn't seem to like that.

The man stopped and slowly, he turned around.

"What was that?"

You kept walking.

"Didn't say nothing."

You set the energy drink on the worn laminate counter with a dull thunk. The elderly cashier glanced up over his wire-rimmed glasses.

"N' can I get a pack of Marlboro Menthol Lights, please?" You pointed towards the rack behind him. "Right there."

You flipped your wallet open for your debit card, leaving it splayed on the counter while you dug through the sleeves.

Until, movement caught your eye. The man from the cooler stepped up beside you, close enough that his shoulder nearly brushed yours.

You frowned.

There was plenty of room and his gaze wasn't on the cigarettes.

It had settled on the open flap of your wallet.

You snapped the wallet closed, but it was too late.

The corners of the man's mouth curled into a smug grin. "Hm."

"Anyone ever teach you to mind your own business?" You asked, slapping your card on the counter and shoving your wallet into your pocket.

Goddammit, why was this asshole looking for trouble?

"Excuse me, sir, I'm not sure that ID belongs to this young man." The man said, sneering. "What, you snag that from your mommy's purse while she wasn't lookin'?"

The man behind the counter sat the cigarettes down, but made a face like he'd thought better of it and sat a hand on top of them, slowly drawing them back towards him.

"Oh come on, dude." You sighed and pulled you wallet back out. "Here, it's my ID, I'm [early twenties]!" You plucked out your driver's license and held it up next to your face. "See? It's my license."

"Is there a problem…?" Joel stepped in beside you, close enough that his shoulder brushed yours.

It wasn't dramatic or anything. But it was enough to force the biker to take a half-step back.

"No, sir, I just ain't sure this ID belongs to this young man. I mean, clearly the picture is a woman," The leather-clad man said, resting a hand on the counter.

Stuffed between the two, you sighed, crossing your arms.

"The ID is his and it's none of your damn business." Joel said flatly, narrowing his eyes at the man.

"You stickin' up for this chick, Miller?" The man scoffed.

But before Joel or the man could say anything else, you jabbed an accusing finger at the man.

"I'm a grown man and I don't need your permission to buy a pack of fuckin' cigarettes! Now leave me the hell alone before I call the damn law!"

The man traded one last stare with Joel for another second, but Joel didn't move.

"...Alright, alright," the man muttered, raising both hands as he backed away. "Hell."

He bumped the other biker with his shoulder.

"Let's go."

The bell over the door jingled as they disappeared into the parking lot.

And the gas station fell silent again, other than the soft hum of the drink coolers.

Joel yanked his wallet out of his pocket, pulled out two crumbled up five dollar bills and dropped them onto the counter.

"Sorry, Joel…Didn't realize he was with you…" The gray-haired clerk murmured, taking the bills with a shaky hand.

Joel didn't acknowledge the apology. He just quietly took the cigarettes, nudged the energy drink toward you, and jerked his head toward the door.

"C'mon."

You followed him out the door wordlessly.

He didn't raised his voice. He didn't threaten anyone.

He'd just walked into the room, and somehow that had been enough.

some sketches as a bonus ↓

he brings his hand up to his mouth, lips pursing as his tongue allows a generous bit of spit into his finger tips. you watch him twinkling eyes as he coats what he can onto his shaft. “spread ’er open for me, sweetheart.”

“mm.. fuck..” you gasp a little as your fingers pull back the fatty lips of your cunt, exposing the hardened fat bud peeking shamelessly from beneath the hood. “she’s so wet for you..” your bottom lip gets pressed in between your teeth as you watch him. you have that stare, the one where it looks like you could very well could eat him alive—your (color) irises meeting your lash line leaving nothing but a space of white beneath.

“yeah? how sweet is she.” leon’s cock bobs under its own weight, which is always astonishing in itself because.. his dick is so heavy. his hand comes up, squeezing your lips together while the other strokes his shaft. his gaze is locked in between your legs taking in the sight for what it is, because the pressure from his thumb and pointer push some excess wet slick through your folds. and fuck is it pretty. “got all those naughty pictures you sent me when i was away—drove me crazy. had to jerk a few out.”

“that’s so sexy..“ you reach for him and he obliges almost immediately, leaning down and his forehead rests onto yours. “love when you do stuff like that..” you say shyly.

“i know,” he murmurs, his eyes are on nothing but you as he rubs his cockhead against your folds, pushing so mean against your clit. your hips start to roll, following him in opposite directions while a lazy arm is wrapped around his neck, breath catching at the sensation. “you’re a fuckin’ pervert.”

“i can’t help it..” you whine, the smallest pout pushing at your bottom lip. “look at you.” your fingers wander up to his scruff absentminded, you’re too distracted by him to stop, eyes all wide and adoring. “you’re so handsome.”

“and you talk about me being a charmer,” he chuckles under his breath. “listen to yourself, mama.”

there’s a slow pressure as his cock presses in against your soft, soaking heat. and for a second leon just lets it linger, playing and teasing with it because he knows you can feel every inch of him—length and width. slowly, he starts to give, pushing in deeper little by little as your warmth yields around all eight and a half inches of dick, stretching you out enough to take it in.

“god—i love this cock, baby.” you grit through your teeth as you look down at where you two are connected. “fucks me so good—makes me so fuckin’ stupid.”

“your mouth.. is so filthy.” he says through a breathy laugh. “stupid, huh?” a smile. “gonna be my stupid girl on my cock?”

this part is really on leon because he can’t stay still for too long. he can be greedy himself but honestly he deserves it. his shaft presses in harder now—faster, the heat around it soft and pliant, giving just enough as his cock slides deeper. every inch feels thick and makes you feel so full, your body quite literally wrapping around it and holding him in. you can feel the way it stretches you, you can feel everything throb and shift as your soft folds part around the fattest part. your fingers dig into whatever you can reach, because my god is leon kennedy a whole lot of man. it was overwhelming.

he pins your thighs up against your chest with one hand—god, he’s so strong. it just never fails to make you swoon, like wow. one hand could hold you in place so effortlessly, it makes you feel crazy in a love as consumption way. your legs press into your body, soft and warm against you and the way he keeps you still makes your whole body hum with this dizzy ache.

his grip is firm enough to make you feel held and a little helpless all at once. you can feel the weight of him behind it, every muscle taut, and it’s like your body is wrapped around him and trapped in the best way possible. your thighs press harder into your chest as he fucks you—deeper, carving out a rhythm into your pussy, soft folds and curves squish together under his hand.

your head feels all light and fuzzy, every thought has melted into a soft hazy swirl. every touch, every press, every movement is like this overwhelming wave that makes your knees weak and your chest flutter uncontrollably. you can’t even think straight, your brain turning into a squishy and warm mess where all you know is fuck.. this man makes me feel good.

heat blooms through you in slow stretching waves, making your fingers tremble and your hands clench at whatever’s beneath them. your chest rises and falls faster than your thoughts can keep up with, every nerve screaming and humming at once, and it makes your vision go a little, the world itself has melted into soft spinning warmth at this point.

“i love how you make my pussy feel—oh my god—this fucking cock is so good. want you to make me cum all day, all day, all day-! never stop fucking me, leon please!” you’re babbling at this point, and leon—well, leon is fighting for his life inside of this pussy.

his jaw tightens, teeth clenched, “christ—” it drags out of him low and irritated, more exhale than word as his grip tightens just a fraction to ground himself. his head dips, eyes shut as he pounds into your hole, voice thick with restraint.

“buttercup—” he breathes it out. the word’s caught between his throat and he doesn’t have the patience for it at all. the nickname softer than anything else about him right now, completely at odds with the tension winding through his body. his teeth grit again before he forces the rest out,

“need you to be good ’nd just—” he cuts himself off for half a second, fighting for control before he finishes it through his teeth, quieter, “shut up.”

“fuck, ’m gonna cum! ’m gonna cum—!” you whine, your hips bucking upwards as your high starts to unravel.

“i know, can feel it..” he breathes, cock starting to falter in its pacing. “gonna make me cum..”

it hits him all at once, dragging a rough sound out of his chest as his whole body tenses through it. his grip tightens without thinking, fingers digging into your supple flesh as he rides it out, breath coming in short and uneven bursts because he can’t catch it fast enough. he’s filling you up—pumping your pussy full of his cum.

his head pulls back, jaw clenched and nose scrunched as a strained exhale pushes past his lips. it’s too much and not enough at the same time, leaving him wound tight even as it starts to fade, because his body doesn’t know how to settle back down from it. physically, he’s tired. but mentally? he wants to keep fucking into you until he’s cumming again and again. good pussy will do that to a man.

he swallows hard, chest still rising and falling a little too fast, grip loosening just slightly. but it’s all still there—that tingly heat from an orgasm. its under his skin, in the way his muscles stay tense, in his breathing, in how he doesn’t quite pull out of you away right away.

you tilt your head up to look at him, eyes all bright and a little dazed, but there’s that tiny knowing spark sitting there as your lips curl into this soft, mischievous smile.

your teeth catch your bottom lip again, biting down a giggle. your fingers barely shift where they rest against him—light, absentminded, you’re still a little floaty from your high.

“welcome back, space cadet,” you murmur, voice soft and a little smug. you know you’ve got him a little out of it, and frankly.. you’re enjoying every second of it. “enjoy your time on neptune?”

“you’re funny.” he says, unamused but there’s no real heat behind it. he pulls out of you slowly. “don’t think i forgot about—” he starts to mock your moans.

“leon!”