Tivo's Blog

BRUNO

Bruno’s heart raced as he made his way inside their shared apartment, the noisy thrum of the bar fading into a muffled drone as he paused outside Wilbur’s bedroom door, excitement thrumming in his veins.

Wilbur’s warning of do not wake her echoes in his ears as he takes a deep breath, steadying himself as he slowly opened the door, even though he knows it’s unlikely you were going to wake up with the way you had been downing drinks all night. 

He doesn’t look at you as he closes the door, resting his forehead against the wood and breathing deeply for a few minutes, letting the butterflies in his stomach multiply until he feels a little sick with the anticipation. The room is dark and silent, except for the faint sound of your breathing.

He should leave you be, he knows wanting to be with you with you, to touch you, when you are passed out in his brother’s bed isn’t right, isn’t normal but his cock is already stirring, half-hard from nothing more than the mere thought of you asleep and unaware. But he still tries to convince himself to leave. If he left now, he could pretend nothing ever happened and just go back to pining after you from across the bar, but he doesn’t move. He can’t.

There’s a brief blank moment and then a sudden awareness as he blinks, staring at your peaceful sleeping face as he finds himself at the edge of the bed. You’re beautiful. His hand reaches out, fingers hesitating over the curve of your cheek.

 “Sugar?” He whispered. You didn’t answer, you didn’t even twitch. Just your soft breaths and the occasional little snore. You were so so cute like this. Bruno bit his lip as his cock twitched. Any pretence at stopping was long gone.

“So pretty,” he let his fingers drop, tracing them across your cheek and towards your lips, letting them linger for a second by the corner of your mouth, feeling your breath as his gaze trails over the line of your body. “My pretty girl.” He tugged the sheet down from your shoulders ever so slowly, the way it glided so smoothly over the dips and curves of your body made him shiver, it felt like unwrapping a present. You were wearing one of Wilbur’s old t-shirts, the worn fabric only just reaching mid thigh.

His thoughts flicker so fast that he can’t get a coherent handle on any of them. He zones out again, lost in the sight of you as he just stands there in silence.

He’s not sure how long he’s been standing there when you suddenly mumble, the noise startling him back into awareness as he watches you shifting ever so slightly. Your lips parting with a sleepy sigh that has his hand subconsciously going to the front of his pants, squeezing at the hardness in an effort to ease some the growing pressure.

It doesn’t help, and the sudden feeling of suffocation has him fumbling for his zipper, clumsily shoving his pants down to his ankles while he reaches into his underwear to wrap his fingers around his cock.

His hips buck at the contact, teeth painfully sharp in his bottom lip as he tries not to moan out loud. He likes you like this, asleep, unaware, but if you did wake he knows you wouldn’t mind, that you’d understand. You know how much he loves you, you must do. He knows he can’t hide the lovesick devotion in his gaze whenever he looks at you, Rowen has teased him about it on more occasions than he cares to remember.

He swipes his thumb over the pearls of pre-cum gathering at his tip as he stands over you, smearing them along the shaft of his cock to ease  the slow pumps of his fist as he steps a little closer to you. His hand shakes as he cautiously rested it on your knee, an awkward strangled noise escaping him. He slides it up, pushing the t-shirt up over your hip and letting it fall against your stomach. You were still wearing panties and Bruno’s breath caught in his throat. He leant down, pressing his nose to your skin, just under your belly button, nuzzling softly at you with a contented sigh.

He inhaled deeply, filling his nose with your scent. You smelled good, there was a  hint of Wilbur’s body wash but there was still the scent of you underneath it, warm and sweet and his jaw clenched as he fought the sudden urge to sink his teeth into your hip.  Instead he stands, sliding his underwear off completely before leaning back over you, pausing and watching your face closely for any signs of you waking.

Your nipples were hard, tempting little peaks under the t-shirt and he didn’t hesitate in brushing his thumb over one. You didn’t even twitch and he felt a flicker of disappointment but the lack of reaction emboldened him, leaning down to flick his tongue over your left nipple, sucking gently at your skin through your t-shirt.

His groan is too loud for the quietness of the room, but he can’t stop. He’s messy in his sudden desperation, half spitting half drooling as he lets his saliva soak through your t-shirt. It’s hardly that obscene but can’t sucking at your skin through the fabric as he wraps a hand back around his cock. Coud he leave a mark like this? Could you wake up in the morning with a hangover and a trail of love bites across your breasts? He swears as his hips buck, he isn’t going to last long, but he doesn’t care, giving himself a firm slow stroke as he trailed his fingers down your bare stomach.

He groans, his balls drawing in tight as he traces the hem of your panties.

“You’re so beautiful.” He shuddered as he pulled back, his gaze flicking back up to your mouth, bucking into his fist a little more erratically. Would you wake if he brushed the tip over your lips?  or would you instinctively open your mouth for him? He groaned low in his throat as he presses his knee onto the mattress, carefully shifting his weight until he was kneeling over you, rubbing the head of his cock over the front of your panties. He knew he was pushing his luck but he couldn’t stop now, no longer caring if you did wake up as he watched precum drip and stain into the fabric just above your clit. His thighs shook with the need to shove them to the side and just fuck you, to fill you up and send you back down to the bar with him still dripping down the inside of your thighs. Watching you work until the end of your shift when he’d shove you over the bar and clean you up with his tongue.

That thought was too much, a quiet drawn out moan of your name and he spills hot and thick over the front of your panties, a slurred I love you between his whimpers. He took a moment to calm himself down, cock hanging limp and heavy between his legs, reluctant to leave your side. He swipes his fingers over the mess before he gets off you, sliding them between your legs as far as he can reach to make sure you are covered in him as much as possible.

He wants to curl up beside your sleepy form, help you recover from your inevitable hang over with soft orgasms and softer praise but he has work to do. He does however give into the urge to take a picture of you, finger hovering over the button of the group chat before he decides to keep it to himself. He presses a quick kiss to your stomach before slowly pulling the sheet back up over you, not bothering to wipe you down or straighten your t-shirt. He pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Goodnight sugar.”

ROWAN

You sit uncomfortably at the quiet end of the bar, watching your friends at the opposite side as you swirl the drink in front of you. The cocktail in your hand was overly sweet for your tastes, but it was free so you hadn’t said no when Wilbur had set it down in front of you.

Bringing your friends to the bar you had grown so fond of had seemed like a good idea, but it hadn’t gone as smoothly as you’d hoped. From Bruno meticulously checking all your friends Id’s before letting them in, to the way they had slowly drifted away from you after being introduced to Wilbur and Rowen, the whole night had been a complete let down and you’d ended up drinking more than you had planned just to ease the hurt inside you. “You’re very quiet.” Wilbur finally has chance between the endless queue of customers to turn his attention to you. “What’s up?”

You shrug. You weren’t in the mood for chatting, preferring to wallow in self-pity with more alcohol than you could probably handle.

"Forget them,” Rowen slides into the bar stool next to you as you raise your eyebrow, a little surprised at how well he seems to be reading you. "Just stay here and hang out with the cool kids.”

“Can I have another?” You slide your glass towards Wilbur, ignoring the way Rowan tenses at your blatant dismissal.

“One more, then I’m cutting you off Sugar.”

You glare at him, opening your mouth to argue but you can see Rowen giving you that look out the corner of your eye so you shut your mouth. Instead you watch quietly as Wilbur makes you a drink.

It’s brightly coloured, but it’s not the same fizzy sickly sweet cocktail you’d been enjoying so far. You take it, but hesitate in taking a sip.

“Come on, can’t be wasting bar stock, not even for you.” Wilbur raises his hand to push your glass up to your lips, not letting go until you've taken a couple of sips. "Good girl." He swipes his thumb across the corner of your mouth, so quickly that you don’t have time to flinch back.  “Is it good?”

“Uh it’s-, yep.” You nod even as you try not to grimace. It’s bitter, not awful, but definitely not something you’d choose again.

“Very convincing.” Wilbur grins and Rowen just watches you for a few more seconds until you shrug.

“It’s not bad,” You take another sip. “I just prefer the other one.”

“Not bad?” Rowen echoes. “Wow you must be losing your touch Wil.” “Maybe if you gave me a hand and actually did some work, – “

You can’t help but give a small smile as you go back to your drink. The bickering between the two was usually a great source of entertainment for you but tonight you feel too tired and too tipsy to keep up with the volley of insults so you zone out. Letting their playful squabbling drift over your head as you sip at the bitter alcohol until your eyelids start to droop.

“You ok? Hey,” Your name is accompanied by a couple clicks of fingers that are too close to your face. It startles you back into a sluggish consciousness as you try to focus on Wilbur’s concerned face. “You look a little green.”

“Don’t do that,” You swat at his hand. “M’not a dog.”

“You drunk on shift pretty girl?” Rowen grips your elbow as you start to lean, Wilbur quickly sliding your half drunk drink away before you can send it flying.

“I’m off shift,” You point somewhere to your left, amused when Rowen follows your movement with a slightly confused frown. “Friends remember?”

“Friends, right. Friends where exactly?”

You  blink, trying to clear the momentary double vision as you look for your friends. “Over there.” They're not over there, and the hurt you thought you’d drowned under copious amounts of alcohol surges back to  life. "You don’t need them you know,” Rowen murmurs, leaning further into your space as his hand tightens slightly on your arm. "You have us.”

 “I’m-,” Your stomach twists and you fight back the urge to gag. You really needed to get out of here. “Maybe that was one drink too many.”

“You’re not going to vomit on my bar are you?” Wilbur cups your chin, tugging you away from Rowen’s grip, his thumb running down the length of your jaw as he forces you to look up at him.

“Maybe.” You meant it as a joke but you’re suddenly not so sure as the room suddenly tilts, but as you sway Rowen’s arm wraps tightly around your waist.

“Easy Pup,” His breath is hot against the shell of your ear and you shiver. “I think you’ve had a little too much to drink, let’s get you out of here before you embarrass us.”

“I can manage,” You snap,  your mouth moving before your brain can engage. You really need some air. “Sorry, I just-, I can manage.”

Rowen’s grip on your hip turns painful for a second before he lets you go with a shrug. “Suit yourself.”

You hesitate, aware they are both watching you as you prop yourself up against the bar, your legs feeling shaky and uncoordinated as you take a few rather clumsy steps towards the staff area. “You sure you don’t want help?” Wilbur’s voice is soft and the worry in it is enough for you to admit defeat, swallowing hard to steady yourself before reluctantly holding out a hand. Neither of them move and you hate yourself a little for the quiet little please that slips from your mouth.

Wilbur smiles, that small little twitch of his lips that you’ve come to learn means he’s very happy with you, but instead of coming to help he turns back to his bar and his customers, leaving Rowan to loop an arm back around your waist to hold you steady.

“C’mon pup, let him work and let’s get you some fresh air.”

-----------------------

“Thought we were going outside.” You mumble, although you feel a little better already, the staff room is cool and dark and the low thrum of the bar is oddly soothing.

“I know.” Rowen’s arm is firm around your waist as he guides you in, closing the door behind you. You slouch back against the wall, eyes closed as you try to focus on your breathing, you just want to go to sleep.

“Rowan.” You groan as he steps into your space, close enough that his chest almost but not quite brushes yours.

He rests a warm hand on your waist, thumb rubbing gentle circles into your hip, his hands fluttering down to your thighs and back up. “How you feeling sugar?”

“Not good.”

“No?” He leans in, and it takes you a second to realise what he’s doing, your teeth biting down harshly on his lip. He hisses, yanking his head back but not moving away.

“No.” You lean back, pushing against his chest and he grabs your elbow to stop you tumbling sideways. “Let’s not, not now.”

"You like it rough when you’re drunk huh?” Rowen cuts you off with a huff, thumb swiping over his bottom lip as he checks for blood.

“Get off.” You shove at his chest but it's pointless, he's bigger, stronger and all it does is encourage him to press his hips harder against you, hands cupping your face as he rests his forehead against yours.  “Stop Rowen.”

“Say it again.” He groans and you shake your head, tears pricking at your eyes. “Aw baby, baby, what you crying for?”

Rowen murmurs praise at you between little fluttery kisses against your mouth, a quick lick of his tongue across your tear stained cheek to distract you as he nudges your legs further apart and a hand slips between your thighs, one finger pulling the fabric aside. "Fuck you're wet. Drunk little whore aren’t you?" Your breath hitches at his insult, a soft sob that has him shushing and cooing at you again, another flurry of chaste kisses across your mouth. “C’mon sugar. You like it when I touch you. Remember how good it feels with my cock inside you?” he whispered into your ear, thumb circling your clit until you moaned and he took that as his cue to slide a finger slowly inside. “Don’t you want that again?”

 “Rowen,” you pleaded, unsure about what you wanted. “Let’s just… stop a minute ok?” you tried to push him away again, your mind was mushy and you needed a minute to just breathe without his presence smothering you.

“Let me make you cum first,” He curled a second finger inside you, his pace quickening as you clench hard around his fingers. You moaned in a mixture of pleasure and distress but he kept going, fucking you on his fingers until your thighs were shaking and your moans had turned pleading. He could feel how close you were, the tremble in your limbs as you fought to rock against his hold. You were close, so close.

So he stopped, pulling away just before you found release. 

“Ro, please!”

“You said you wanted a minute,” He dipped his head, nibbling along the skin of your collarbone as you begged. He loved this. He could probably cum from this alone, your mouth saying no but your body saying yes, wet, dripping and so very desperate for him. “I’m only doing what you wanted.”

“Rowen.” It’s a high pitched whine, a sound you’d be mortified of making if you weren’t so close to breaking down completely.

“Shhh,” He drew in a shaky breath cupping your jaw as he forced you to make eye contact. “Didn’t you want me to stop?”

“I-,”

You winced as his nails scratched down the inside of your thighs, tugging your underwear to the side. “ I can keep going if you want?” You jolted as he moved his hips, the feeling of his cock sliding over your cunt making your breath catch, unsure when he had managed to strip down.

“Ro wait,” you panted. “I don’t-, I’m really dizzy.”You groaned when Rowen continued to rock himself against you, hard and throbbing between your thighs.

“Rowen,” you mumbled, you felt rushed, overwhelmed by sensation and his words, but there was still a little nagging voice at the back of your head that didn't want to disappoint  him. “Can we g-,” You choked on your words in surprise at the feeling of his palm suddenly squeezing your throat.

“You’re talking too much, puppy, just be quiet ok? You want it so let me give it to you.” He eased one of your legs up and around his hips, notching the head of his cock against your entrance. You protest again but he ignores you, his hips pressing forward slowly, the head of his cock slowly easing into you. “Fuck can feel you squeezing around me already.” his hand cupped your cheek, looking at you almost in awe as his thumb traced the shape of your mouth. “So needy.” 

You whined helplessly as Rowen pushed himself deeper inside you.  He was kissing you again, his mouth constantly peppering your skin in sloppy wet kisses.

“Not going to ask me to stop now?” He sounds disappointed,  his thumb sweeping along the column of your throat. He rocks his hips and you yelped, pressing your nails into his back as he slid inside of you to the hilt.   It was impossible to focus on anything other than the way his cock felt dragging against your walls. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he thrust into you, never taking his eyes off of you, watching your face as he picked up his pace.

You gonna cum?” He’s panting hard, grunts and raspy moans that send shivers down your spine. “you gonna cum on my cock even though you don’t want it?”

He’s mocking you, but the humiliation is lost to pleasure as Rowen’s thumb finds your clit again, circling the sensitive nub with maddening precision,  coaxing out a breathy whimper from your lips.

"That's it, good girl," He purrs, his hot breath washing over your face, "Just let it happen."

You swore, struggling to catch your breath.  “Please, Please Ro…I need to-,”

 “I love how you beg puppy,” He slides back in, slow and deep and then stills, the head of his cock grinding painfully against something that has  your free hand snapping to his thigh in an effort to stop him. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Too much, too deep Rowan,” Your words are strained, the pressure of him inside stealing your breath away.  “Hurts.”

“No it doesn’t,” Rowen huffs into your mouth and you can’t stop the fresh flow of tears, his hips starting a deep slow grind, leaning back again so he can press his thumb against your clit.  “Beg me and I’ll let you cum.”

“Please.”

“Please stop or please make me cum?” He taunts before he starts to fuck into you with a roughness that has that pressure inside rising. You whine, but he doesn’t slow down, doesn’t give you any reprieve, making you sob and forcing you up on to your toes in an effort to pull away.

“Too much, too much Ro stop.” You scramble desperately at Rowans shoulders, trying to push him back or pull him closer you’re not entirely sure as the intense sensation spreads through you, shooting down your spine and making your cunt clench tight around him. It’s too much, you’re half screaming and half choking as your orgasm hits you. The pressure explodes and you’re cumming hard, the unexpected sensation of wetness gushing down your inner thighs making tears of humiliation flood down your cheeks.

“bad fucking puppy.” Rowen’s hand tightens around your throat, it’s making little tiny stars dance at the edge of your vision and you try to choke out some kind of plea for mercy. “Gotta get you toilet trained huh?”

His hips snapped forward, pushing himself as deep as he could as he came inside you with slew of curses bitten out between his moans.

He rolls his hips slowly through his high until he’s sated, squeezing your thighs too tightly as he slowly pulls out. You grab onto his arm to stop yourself falling but he makes no move to actually help you.  He has a bright flush to his cheeks as he watches you clumsily tug your dress back down.   Your panties cling uncomfortably to the wetness between your legs, and you can feel bruises forming nearly every where he touched you but you don’t push him away, won’t push him away. You know he won’t leave you here, but the silence and his lack of effort to help you has you doubting once again, makes you reach for him in a sudden desperate need for reassurance. You mumble his name into his chest as you latch on to him. His little chuckle adding to your shame but it’s soon forgotten as his arms curl around you. You feel sick. It hurts to move, there’s a throbbing pain between your legs and your skin feels over sensitive but you don’t want to do anything except let him hold you as you try to get control of your tears.

“Such a pretty thing when you cry,” His fingers flick under your chin to make you look up at him, his pupils are blown wide but you can’t read his expression. It makes you uneasy all over again. Was he happy with you? Mad? “Watch the teeth in future,” He taps your cheek sharply making you flinch, his smile not quite meeting his eyes. “it'd be a shame to muzzle up that pretty mouth of yours.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean too I was-,” You hiccup,  breathing getting caught between your tears. He is mad. The little impatient click of his tongue makes you stop talking. You always seem to get everything wrong with Rowan, never get it right the first time despite how patient he is with you. “I’m sorry.”

 “I’ll forgive you, sugar,” his voice softens, hand smoothing up your spine and into your hair, pushing you forward until you’re nestled flush against him, your hands curled tightly into his shirt. “You’re mine after all,” His fingers stroke over your hair, a soft kiss pressed to the top of your head. “Always will be.”

WILBUR

The atmosphere of the pub is lazy, quiet, the calm before the chaos of opening time. Wilbur is behind the bar, polishing glasses as he watches you sip at cup of coffee he had made for you. The occasional rustle of paperwork from behind you as Rowen goes through deliveries and orders. You weren’t entirely sure where Bruno was, but you knew he’d turn up close by pretty soon.

It was so relaxing that you let your eyes drift close as you inhaled the warm aroma from your cup, more than content to let the next half hour pass by in silence until you felt a prickle at the back of your neck. That unnerving sensation of being watched, or more accurately, being glared at. 

You know you’re going to make eye contact with Rowen before you even glance back, but you do it anyway, breath hitching slightly as you take him in. Seemingly done with his paperwork, he leans back in the chair he’s perched on, legs spread and one arm draped lazily over the back of chair next to him, fingers restlessly tapping at the air as he watched you.

“What did you do?”

You huff, turning back to Wilbur with a frown at the immediate accusation. “Nothing.”

“Uh huh,” With an amused hum, Wilbur taps the underside of your chin gently, forcing you to look up at him. “Don’t lie to me.”

“What’s he going to do? Fire me?” You give him a half-hearted grin.

Wilbur’s eyes narrow at your flippant tone but his gaze flickers over your shoulder at the sound of papers being gathered and you stare nervously down at your coffee, holding your breath as Rowen stops at the end of the bar next to you.

There’s a tension filled silence, you can tell both are staring at you but you refuse to look up.

“I’m going to help Bruno.” Rowen taps his fingers along the bar as he speaks, the click of his tongue stud running along his teeth as he waits for an answer makes you flinch slightly.

You’re pretty sure he’s not talking to you but you refuse to answer anyway taking a sip of your coffee as he disappears out the back.

“Sugar,” It’s the disappointment in Wilbur’s voice that finally makes you move.

“What? He needs to lighten up more,” You hop of your stool, walking past Wilbur to rinse your mug out in the small sink behind the bar. “He’s so strict sometimes.”

“Hey,” Wilbur grabs your arm, turning you to face him. He looks genuinely worried, his shoulders tense and you feel a little flutter of guilt. “what happened?”

“He took my phone away,” You huff, feeling a little embarrassed at the admission. “Like I’m some spoiled kid. He’s my boss not my dad.”

Wilbur gives you a knowing look and you look away. Rowen is more than just your boss, they all are but you haven’t been brave enough to put words or a meaning to the odd growing relationship between the four of you.

“No phones at work, you know that.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, not wanting to escalate this into an argument with Wilbur as well. But he is nothing but  annoyingly patient as he waits for you to respond, a silence that stretches until you finally meet his gaze.

 “But I need my phone-,” You stop with a sigh at Wilbur’s raised eyebrow and just nod instead.

 “No, use your words sugar.” His fingertips graze along your jaw before tapping on you bottom lip.

“I get it, no phones while working.”

“You need to stop testing him, ok? Being a brat is only going to get you in trouble.”

“I’m not a brat.”

”Sure. Adults don’t have tantrums over their phones being taken away.” His thumb brushes over your lip again and you resist the urge to open your mouth. “Still, you’re cute when you pout.”

“Hey, it wasn’t a tantrum.” You feel a little insulted but the small smile twitching at  the corner of his lips makes it hard to be truly annoyed at him. “You think I’m cute?”

He grins at you, ignoring your question. “If you’re going to act like a brat sugar, then you’re going to get treated like one. Which means privileges been taken away,” He’s teasing you now, obviously relaxing at the realisation that there wasn’t a major issue going on between you and Rowen and when his fingers hook into your belt loops, tugging you a little closer, you go willingly. “or punishments being given.”

“Punishments, really?” You poke his chest, enjoying his closeness. “You gonna make me work over time for free or something?”

His chest rises with a slow inhale, his hands sliding round your waist. “No.”

Oh. The atmosphere shift has your breath hitching, butterflies swarming in your stomach as his pupils dilate at the sound.

He holds your gaze, a pause like he’s waiting for you to step away but you don’t.

 Wilbur murmurs your name, pushing you backwards until your back hits the rough edge of the bar, fingers dragging up your thigh as they dip under your skirt to tug at your panties. There’s an annoyed growl as you grip his wrists, a noise that makes you shiver as you stop him from going any further.

“We don’t have time for that,” You turn out of his grasp, switching your positions and feeling a little surprised that he lets you do so easily. You grin as your hands wander down to his belt.

Wilbur lets out a deep groan and presses his forehead to yours. “you don’t need to do that, I can wait.”

“I know, but I want to.” You look up at him one more time before looking down to tug at his zipper, biting your lip as you drop to your knees. “No underwear at work? Surely that’s breaking a rule.” You tease to hide your sudden nervousness, you’d done this a couple of times but you still couldn’t get over how big he was.

Wilbur blinks lazily as he takes you in, his lips curling into a cheeky smile at your hesitance. “, Sugar?”

You roll your eyes at him before taking the tip of his cock in your mouth. Wilbur groans, a noise that you so desperately want to hear again that you take him deeper than you meant to, making yourself gag around him. You pull back, embarrassed, your eyes watering as you look up at him.

“Aw baby girl, too big for you?” Wilbur reaches down to cup your cheek.  “You need daddy to teach you how to suck his cock?”

You're torn between agreeing and reminding him exactly what you can do but you stay silent for a beat too long and he takes your non answer as a yes.

“Open up and stick your tongue. Can you do that for me?” he commands gently, gripping his cock and tapping it on your tongue before gently sliding it into your mouth.

“That’s it, slowly now.” Your lips close around him and Wilbur sighs in bliss at the warmth of your mouth. He slowly pulls back and you suck gently, pulling a hiss from him.

“Good job, Sugar,” he praises and you shiver in pleasure.  He lets go of his cock and presses his hands into your hair. “You’re doing such a good job,” he whispers, encouraging you as you slowly take more of him in.  “Look at you, taking daddy’s cock so well.”

It makes you shudder, a quiet moan escaping your lips.

“You like it when I praise you?” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, but it’s not mocking and you hum in response. “My good girl.” You take a deep breath and move forward, one hand reaching up to grip the back of his thigh as you take him as deep as you can, gripping the rest of his length with your hand and stroking him firmly. “My good dirty girl.”

“You never put that on your cv.” Rowan’s voice makes you startle, trying to pull away from Wilbur but his grip in your hair tightens and a low unhappy groan rumbles in his throat.

“No, don’t stop.”  

You feel uncomfortable as Rowen circles you, but Wilbur won’t let you go, his hips grinding against your face. It doesn’t seem to bother Rowen, you still can’t see him but you can feel the heat of him as he crouches down next to you, just behind your line of sight.

“Look at you,” Rowen murmurs, “Love having your mouth stuffed full of cock, huh?” 

You make a low muffled sound, somewhere between indignation and arousal.

“Yeah she does.” Wilbur answers for you, his voice breathy and strained.  

Rowen’s hand trails down the length of your back and gripping the meat of your ass and squeezing hard. You whine, the vibrations from your throat has Wilbur arching his back, a slew of curses muttered above you as he fucks himself into your mouth, ignoring your little whine of protest as tears begin to prick at the corner of your eyes.

You want to tell Rowen to stop, but you can’t do much more than give another muffled moan, unable to stop the saliva dripping down your chin. 

“Are you getting off on this?”  He murmurs, “does that needy little cunt need something to fill it?” You whine,  arching slightly in an inadvertent invitation and he laughs. A quiet muttered whore as he stands, giving you a hard sharp slap to your ass that makes you jolt, knocking Wilbur further into your throat and making you retch.

“Jesus Ro, fuck off,” Wilbur sounds wrecked, voice strained as he tries to hold his hips still. “You’re distracting her.”

Rowen snorts,  his amusement making your cheeks burn in humiliation. “We open in 10, Sugar, speed it up.”

He moves away and you can’t tell if he’s left or is still watching but you refocus on Wilbur.

You pull back a little, easing the pain in your throat to suckle on the end of his cock, fingers fluttering around his balls as he groans, the muscles on his abdomen tightening and flexing. “Shit, that’s it, Sugar, wanna cum in that pretty mouth of yours,” He pushes your hands away, reaching down to stroke himself quickly as you hold your mouth open obediently. “gonna swallow for me aren’t you? Swallow it like a good girl.”

His cock pulses on your tongue, and a loud, guttural groan spills from him as hot, thick spurts of his cum coat your tongue. He can’t take his eyes off you as you swallow, he lazily thrusts upwards and you take the hint, running your tongue over him as you lick him clean. his chest heaving from exertion.

“4 minutes!”

“I know!” There’s a tinge of annoyance in Wilbur’s voice that has an answering faint snicker of laughter from Rowen. You sit back on your thighs, taking a moment to breathe but Wilbur doesn’t move. His cock hanging heavy and glistening in front of you. You lick your lips and Wilbur’s hitching breath and the way his cock twitches has your cunt clenching hard around nothing.

“Drinking, really?”

You shake your head. “No, Mr Hoffman, I wasn't. I was just-,”

He stares at you as you trail off. Your gaze caught by the way he holds the opened beer bottle between two fingers.

"You were what?"

You feel your face heat as you meet his eye. It doesn’t help that you can see the slight amusement under his disappointment. He knows what he does to you and you swear he does it on purpose.

“What other rules have you been breaking when you’ve supposed to been watching my son?” His eyes narrow as he considers you. “Have you had friends over? Boys?” His jaw ticks on the last word.

"No, I wouldn't, it’s not like that,- I’ve been good."

There's a silence where you internally kick yourself for your word choice. Did it sound as suggestive as you thought it did?

"I hired you because I had heard that you were a good babysitter, that you were good at following directions.” He sounds so disappointed that you start to feel a lump in your throat, tears starting to prick at your eyes.

“I am, I know it looks like-,” You swallow hard cutting him off in your desperate need to appease him. "I finished my coursework, Ben was asleep and I just wanted to relax a little."

You can’t think properly. He’s so intimidating and you can’t stop glancing at his hands. "Please, I’m sorry. I need this job," you stutter as his fingers tighten a fraction round the neck of the bottle. "I really like Ben too, he’s a great kid."

“Are you good at following directions?”

“I-, yes?” His question throws you off, but the way his thumb is slowly circling the mouth of the bottle is making you truly flustered.

“Turn around,” He places the bottle next to the sink, keeping his gaze on you. “Rules keep chaos contained. Break one, and the whole structure collapses. I won’t have that.”

“I didn’t-,” You cut yourself off at his look. He’s not wrong, but there’s something about him that brings out the defiant side of you.

“I don’t want to repeat myself honey.”

You lower your chin, a little show of submission that has him giving a little hum of approval, and your breath hitches at the sound as you turn around.

You lean forward slowly, bracing your hands on the edge of the counter. You know you’re pushing it by moving slowly, and you genuinely can’t tell if you’re doing it to wind him up more or if you are genuinely nervous about where this was going. He sighs, obviously not in the mood to wait for you to figure it out; one warm hand pushes you down impatiently, your hands sliding across the marble.

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry!” your panicked apology is ignored, his hand sliding down to the small of your back to keep you in firmly in place as his other gripped the hem of your skirt, pulling it up over your hips.

“I don’t believe in games. I believe in consequences.” He’s strong. Your squirmy attempts at freeing yourself from his grasp doing nothing but tiring you out. “and this is your consequence sweetheart.”

You are stunned into silence when his hand comes down hard on your ass, but you can’t stop the loud pained cry when he smacks you again.

Pain blooms across your skin and your hips jerk, trying to pull away from his hand. Another sharp spank lands against your ass and your tears start to flow freely.

“I’m sorry Sir, I am.”

“I know sweetheart,” His hand strokes over the curve of your ass and dips between your legs. His fingers slide into your panties, brushing over your clit with the tip of his finger. It’s a gentle touch compared to the hard spanking and the pleasure blooms low in your gut.

“no–,” This is the furthest he’s ever gone and the rapid escalation has you feeling off kilter.

“Shhh, it’s okay, you took your punishment, now you get your reward.”

His tone doesn’t bly arguing with so you don’t, lifting your hips towards his hand as he gently stroked your clit.

“Mark, ple-,” You whimpered as he clicked his tongue, the disappointment in that small noise enough to make you worry he’d stop. “Mr Hoffman, please.”

“Not quite right either,” his voice is tinged with amusement as he slides his finger through your wetness. “but it’ll do.” He doesn’t ask you for more, doesn’t make you beg, he gives it to you freely, slipping two of his fingers inside you and listening to your little moans of pleasure.

“Jesus,” His voice breaks as you clench around him, you're so damn tight he can barely fit. “You’re a good girl aren’t you? My good girl, taking my fingers so well."

He grunted as you whined, pressing himself closer till he was fully pressing you into the counter, his chest warm against your back. His palm grinding against your clit as he pumped his fingers slowly in and out, your hips working in tandem with the thrusting of his hand.

"You love having my fingers buried deep in that tight little cunt, don't you? Making a mess all over me," he growled. "Bet you wish it was my cock instead."

"please, yes," you begged and babbled as he curled his fingers, you felt suffocated, surrounded by him inside and out. Your orgasm starts low in your belly, spreading quickly and with another curl of his fingers you're already too close.

In one quick heartbreaking movement, he stops. His fingers leaving you and bringing his palm down to give your pussy a sharp slap. Firm enough to make you jolt backwards as you cry out, but the heat of his body against your back gives you no room to move.

“Did I say you could cum?” His voice sounds more than a little strained and you feel a little tinge of pride despite the pain. “Did you ask?” His hand is pressed firm between your legs and you try desperately to rock against it.

“Please,” He slaps hard against your clit again, making you squirm beneath him, and he takes the opportunity to kick your legs further apart. “Mar- Mr Hoffman, Sir,” He’s still not moving and your brain panics, latching on to one singular word that you can’t stop repeating in your delirium. “daddy!”

That breathy whimper seems to appease him, your thighs trembling as he slides two thick fingers back inside you as deep as he can. You arch your back at the pressure, and he presses closer, the thick hard press of his cock against your ass. That’s all it takes for you to feel that hot coiling pressure in your belly reaching breaking point again.

"That's it, sweetheart,” He turns his head, letting his lips brush over your ear as he whispers. “cum for daddy."

With a sharp cry you lose it, the incoherent babbling that falls from your mouth would mortify you if you weren’t completely lost to the bliss that crashes over you.

"Such a good girl." He keeps you there, pinned beneath him until you stop twitching, until the soft questioning murmur of your name earns him an actual response rather than a half sobbed moan.

He moves back slowly and your legs finally give out, feeling slightly dizzy as you slump to the floor.

He makes no move to help you back up, and you let your eyes trail over him slowly as you try to gain control of your breathing and your thoughts. The bulge at the front of his pants makes your mouth water and you swallow hard.

You must look a sight, face flushed and clothes askew, kneeling before him. You're not sure what the dark flicker of emotion is over his face but it makes you shiver in anticipation.

His fingers flex and you tense, expecting him to grab your hair, half hoping he's going to shove his cock down your throat but he doesn't. Instead he reaches down to adjust himself, his fingers still soaked with your wetness as he grips his cock through his pants. He's big, and he smirks at your needy whine.