blessed, stressed & pedro obsessed

He’s tall, broad, graying, and stern. His dark brown eyes apprise every counselor in front of him as the group gathers on the camp’s front lawn two weeks before opening day. He goes over the rules and expectations of all staff members. You pay attention even though it’s the same old drill: no fucking around during working hours, make sure the campers are safe at all times, please report injuries and have them sent to the nurses station, et cetera. You could recite the rules by heart.

Only one thing has you concerned.

You raise your hand to speak. Joel glances over at you but continues talking, stressing the importance of keeping away from drugs and alcohol during the next two weeks, especially once the campers come on opening day. You know all that. Still, you wait with your hand raised until Joel sighs, giving you time to speak.

“What happened to Frankie?”

Joel tries really hard not to roll his eyes. “Francisco Morales won’t be here to help us set up. He’ll be here on the camp’s opening day.” He snorts, arms crossed as he eyes you up and down. “What, is he your boyfriend or somethin’?”

“No..” you reply, unable to stop the embarrassment from creeping up your spine. Of course you and Frankie hadn’t set any firm definitions about what you are, but the past two years you’ve spent here have also been spent by fucking him in the woods during early morning hikes, blowing him in the storage shed, and sneaking him into your cabin to have him go down on you all night.

You have his number, but there’s been no answer when you’ve called before driving up to the campsite. You wonder what’s keeping him from being here.

Piper, the girl you’ve hated since you’ve been counselors together these past few years, shoots a smug look your way as the meeting is adjourned, and she walks off with Joel’s arm around her waist. She glances over her shoulder at you, giving you the finger.

She’s just jealous because Frankie chose you over her two years ago. She hasn’t let you alone in peace since.

Joel is a hard task master. At dawn he has the counselors up and jogging through the trail in the woods and chopping firewood before breakfast. Swim safety is in the afternoon when the heat is at its worst, the air humid with the scent of sunblock and stagnant lake water. At the very least you’re given some time to lay out in the sun afterward, drying off on the warm boards of the dock.

Back at the cabins only two people are unaccounted for – Piper and Joel. The other counselors make crude guesses as to where they are and what they’re doing. You’re elected to go and find them before it gets dark. Piper has dinner duty and Maya refuses to do all the cooking alone.

Slipping on your jean shorts, your towel slung over your shoulders to catch the water droplets from your still-damp hair, you set out in search of Joel and Piper.

The sun is just starting to set when you find them in a thick copse of trees near the edge of the forest, Piper pressed against a tree as Joel’s fingering her, his hand down the front of her red bikini bottom as he plunges inside her, head bent close to her ear, muttering dirty things. You stop, half-hidden by the trees as you watch them, your own pussy growing wet just bearing witness. You know you should turn and leave, forget you ever saw this, just tell the others that Piper and Joel are coming back soon.

But you’re frozen to the spot, watching them in the secrecy of the woods, your own hand ghosting over your clothed clit, imagining what Joel’s thick, rough fingers must feel like.

There’s a sharp snap of a twig that echoes in the air, causing Piper and Joel to quickly part. You’re already hurrying down the path, shame and lust heating your cheeks.

Everyone is split up in pairs, the counselor bunks only small enough to house two comfortably, and unfortunately Joel assigns you and Piper together. You tell yourself it’ll just be a couple months and most days will be too busy for you to have to deal with her very much.

Piper grabs the top bunk before you have a chance to claim it. But once you’re settled in the bottom, she makes you switch back after she finds a spiderweb too close to the ceiling.

But even your nights can’t be peaceful. Joel sneaks in after lights out, and you have to endure the soft giggles and moans coming from the bunk below you. The entire bed frame rocks with Joel’s thrusts as he fucks your bunkmate.

Great, just great.

They make no effort to hide whatever’s going on between them. His hand is permanently on her ass, barely clothed in the camp counselor uniform shorts, his entire paw covering her ass cheek. The others don’t notice or don’t care, too caught up in their own romantic entanglements.

It only makes you miss Frankie more. Out here in the woods you have no way of contacting him except through the main office line, but Joel stands right in front of anyone who wants to call home, dials the number on the rotary phone, and waits with arms crossed as the call is made. Nobody does personal calls while he’s in charge.

You try to keep yourself busy with helping get the camp ready. The grass near the cabins is maintained, repairs are made to the buildings themselves (which Joel oversees, and you can’t help but to check him out a little while he’s fixing the sign above the infirmary – he looks too good with a hammer), checking that the generators are working properly, and that the electrical system and water pressure are good.

There’s so much to do that by the time you climb up into your bunk you fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

The only thing that could possibly wake you is Joel fucking Piper in the bunk below yours.

Joel’s grunts and groans, paired with Piper’s moaning and gasping, keep you awake. You lose count of how many rounds they go, the entire bed bunk frame shaking with their movements. And at one point you can’t help it as your fingers travel beneath your sleep shorts, finding your wet pussy and tracing your slit. Two fingers fit inside you easily as you lift your legs to get comfortable. Closing your eyes you start fucking yourself on your hand, imagining Joel’s fingers inside of you instead of yours.

You’re trying desperately to keep your whimpering to a minimum but you doubt they’ll hear you over their own sounds. Your fingers match the pace of Joel’s thrusts, though you imagine his cock is a lot bigger than your two fingers combined. And the way he’s been fucking Piper for almost an hour solidifies the fact that his stamina is good.

Your fingers glide over your clit, circling and swiping, your hips arching up as you chase the friction you so desperately need for your release as you listen to Piper’s moans and Joel’s increasing grunts. Eyes squeezed tight you plunge your fingers as deep as you can, timing it just right with Piper’s final, momentous scream. You try to keep as quiet as possible as your release coats your hand, clit throbbing, legs quaking.

Joel corners you after breakfast the next morning, barring you from following the others to the field where a soccer match was planned. Instead he drags you to the boat shed. You hate it there. It’s dusty and cramped and there are cobwebs in the corners.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, your heart in your throat as Joel peers down at you, something unreadable in his deep brown eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he mimics you. “You think I don’t know you were gettin’ yourself off to me and Piper last night?”

The blood drains from your face, leaving you cold. “Wh-what?”

“Stop actin’ innocent. You weren’t exactly quiet. Piper was laughin’ at you, sayin’ you’re a lonely little virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin,” you tell him tersely.

“Really?” Joel’s voice is full of derision. “Prove it.”

The blood drains from your face. “H-how?”

“You’re a smart girl. You know how.” But just to be mean he explains it in detail. “How about you bend over–” he slaps the hull of a nearby canoe and puts his hand on your lower back, pressuring you towards it. “--pull those pretty little short-shorts down and let me check for myself.”

“You’re not serious,” you sputter.

“You afraid or somethin’?” he smirks.

You’re not afraid per se. But you’re definitely wet enough so that he’ll tease you if he finds out. “Of course not,” you stand up to him boldly.

He looks amused by this, and the way he cups his bulge in his own shorts shows he’s more than a little turned on. Your eyes drop down to where his thick cock is hardening under the skin-tight fabric.

With determination in your eyes, you’re certain of yourself when you reach up and grab Joel by the nape of his neck, kissing him. His eyes go wide at the initial shock of surprise, but then they close, a deep and satisfied growl in his chest as he kisses you back, his tongue slipping past your lips. Your gasp turns into a soft moan as his large paw on your lower back presses you closer to him, rubbing his hard-on against you.

“I bet this pussy’s already soaked,” he mutters, finally breaking from the kiss to nip at your neck. “But first..” he pulls away, a devilish look in his eye. “Lift up that shirt, honey, and lemme see those pretty titties.”

You scoff despite the fact that you are indeed soaked, but you’re already this far in. You might as well go all the way. You lift up your shirt, your white lacy bra on full display. Joel’s big meaty hands pull down the cups, palming your tits with his rough bare hands, bouncing them in his palms. “Look at these.. you gonna lemme suck ‘em?”

Fuck. This isn’t going how you expected but you can’t complain. You nod and he immediately pulls you close, picking you up and pinning you against the canoe as he takes your nipple in his mouth, groaning, using his free hand to pinch your other nipple. “So sweet,” he groans, releasing off you with a wet pop before sucking on the other.

“Joel!” you gasp, a fresh wave of wetness seeping through your underwear.

“Don’t worry, I’m gettin’ there,” he mumbles, helping you shimmy out of your shorts and pressing you forward against the boat. He lands a quick spank across your ass cheek, chuckling at the way your flesh jiggles and the sound of your yelp. Then he spreads your cheeks wide. “Look at that.. pretty as the mornin’ dew..” He kneels down and laps at your honey, making you moan. Almost too late you catch yourself, muffling your own sounds with your palm.

His large, rough hand trails down your spine, keeping you in place as the thick head of his cock slides through your folds, collecting your wetness and teasing you as he slides between your cheeks. You mewl in protest as he chuckles. “Maybe you’re right, maybe you’re not a virgin. Not the way you’re actin’ so greedy for my cock. Well darlin’, take it..”

He eases into you, using shallow thrusts and you can’t help but exhale, the rush of breath leaving you in surprise before he angles you down, sliding in to the hilt. “You’re full of me now,” he grunts out, holding steady to your hips. “God damn, tighter than a nun’s asshole.”

Your walls flutter around him with each stroke, your hands bracing you against the smooth wood of the upturned canoe. You whimper in time with each smooth thrust. Each time Joel bottoms out you feel it deep in your belly, probably deeper than anyone’s ever gone.

“Wish you could see how you’re soakin’ me,” Joel grunts, giving a few quick thrusts to let you hear the sound of your sloppy pussy. “How do you like it, darlin’? You want me to make a mess of you inside, or do you need me to pull out and shove this cock down your throat so you can swallow my load?”

“I-inside,” you pant. “I have an IUD.”

“That’s a relief,” Joel mutters, speeding up, one big hand wrapping around your front to tickle your clit. “C’mon, baby, need you to come on my cock before I bust inside you..”

He slows down just enough for you to work your way up to it, the heat building in your belly and your core, moaning at the way he lifts your hips to meet each thrust, sweat gathering at your temples. “Joel,” you whine, thinking of nothing but the way he’s fucking and filling and stretching your cunt. With an expertly angled thrust home you fall apart, moaning his name as you squeeze around him, and he picks up the pace, slamming into you until he swells inside you, his hot cum painting your walls. His cock is still twitching in the aftershocks when he finally releases his grip on your hips and pulls out of you. You quickly shove your underwear and shorts back on to catch his leavings already starting to leak out.

“Smart girl, bein’ on birth control,” Joel mutters, stuffing himself back into his own shorts. “I wish Piper was responsible like that.”

You school your features into nonchalance after you pull your shirt back down. There’s a little stab of guilt when you realize you’ve just fucked your bunkmate’s boyfriend.. even if she is a bitch. “What do you mean?” you ask innocently.

He reddens, as if he shouldn’t have spoken. “You’re sworn to secrecy, alright? Piper’s pregnant.”

“What?” Joel immediately clamps his hand over your mouth. He still smells like sex.

“Shut. Up,” he warns. “If I find out you told anyone else you’re packin’ your bags and goin’ home. Understand?”

You nod and whisper “Yes,” when he removes his hand. “It’s yours?”

He scoffs. “She says so. Still– not a peep. Got it?”

Piper becomes grumpy when Joel’s visits make an abrupt stop. But she’s no bitchier than usual, likely trying to get back into Joel’s good graces. Little does she know he’s only stopped coming to her because he’s taken up fucking you instead – in the storage shed, in the empty cots in the infirmary, the walk-in pantry in the kitchen. He maintains the position that he doesn’t like you very much while you’re in front of the others, sometimes giving you tasks you have to complete on your own – with the sole purpose of finding you to hook up.

The last night before the campers are due, everyone lets loose. Couples sneak off into the woods with sleeping bags and sinful intentions, some stay on the pier by the lake, drinking and laughing.

You’re the only one who’s made it to your bunk at an appropriate hour, wanting a full night’s rest before the big day. But your sleep is interrupted when Joel and Piper come in, slamming the door behind them, all over each other, kissing and giggling. With a silent groan you put your pillow over your head, already expecting to drown out the noises they’re about to make, which are going to keep you up all night.

They’re in the bottom bunk, a little quieter now that their mouths are busy. But soon there’s that familiar rocking rhythm and the sound of Piper’s moans and squeals, coming to a crescendo. Once again Joel’s stamina is off the charts. You’re in the middle of pleasuring yourself, two fingers shoved as deep as you can go, when everything stops and you hear Joel murmuring. There’s a creak as he gets out of the bunk, and Piper giggles as he positions her facing away. Now Joel’s eye level with your bunk and you gasp as you come face to face with him. He winks at you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you whisper as quietly as you can.

“She caught up with me. I couldn’t shake her,” he explains just as softly. “Don’t leave me hangin’, sweetheart. Bring that pretty pussy to my face.”

Without hesitating you lift up your nightdress, scooting to the edge of the bed, thighs spread around Joel’s face as he fucks into Piper – oblivious to everything going on – in the bottom bunk. He’s got his dick buried in her while he’s eating you out. You’ve never experienced anything hotter.

You hear Piper’s staccato cries as Joel pounds into her from behind, his own moans humming through your flesh, heightening your arousal, your clit standing at attention between Joel’s lips, his mustache tickling your soft skin. You already know you’re going to come when your legs start shaking, toes curling at the waves of pressure building up in your very core.

“Joel!” you try to whisper as softly as possible. “Joel!.. I’m gonna come!”

He only smacks harder into Piper, her own cries louder than yours. “Come for me,” he whispers back, the tip of his tongue giving one teasing swirl around your pearl before he dives back in. Your back arches off the bed, lightning shooting through your veins as your cunt pulses, drenching Joel’s mouth as you come. He groans, licking up every drop, watching you through his lashes. “Good girl,” he whispers, backing off when you become too sensitive, his lips warm on your inner thigh, stubble scratching at your soft skin as he pulls off of Piper, turning her around so she’s sucking him off.

You hear her moaning and sighing, gagging on his cock. Meanwhile Joel lazily fingers you, scissoring his digits inside your sloppy pussy, his eyes black and glossy while Piper deep-throats him. Your fingers card through his hair as you ignore the softening of your heart in seeing him so tame and vulnerable.

Your name is on his lips but he moans Piper just in the nick of time, his breaths growing unsteady as he comes close to the end, getting ready to bust in Piper’s mouth. You take his head in your cupped hands. “Come, Joel.. give her what she wants,” you whisper. He groans, his thrusts getting sloppy as he fucks his girlfriend’s throat, stilling at last, his features tensing then relaxing as Piper gasps softly, swallowing his thick load.

The next day Joel treats you the same as he always has. Everyone’s minds are on the Opening Day festivities ahead, even if some of the counselors look like they’ve only had a couple hours’ sleep. You’re bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, not just because of last night, but because you’re genuinely excited for summer camp to officially begin.

The campers hurry out of the stuffy buses and onto the rolling green grass, toting duffel bags, wearing the gold and blue camp tees and ball caps, eager for their summer to begin. Everyone is assigned to a counselor, and as soon as your group is ready you start to lead them to their cabin. You have a full day ahead: a quick icebreaker so everyone can become acquainted, a scavenger hunt that will enable the kids to work as a team, then a game of capture the flag, then lunch. You have your day cut out for you, and in the back of your mind you wonder if you’ll cross paths with Joel again..

Your thoughts are interrupted by someone shouting back at the buses. All the counselors turn to look, surprise written on their faces as they find one more latecomer to Camp Happy Trail.

Frankie Morales, adjusting the Standard Oil cap on his head, dark curls already sticking to the sweat on his neck, hurries off the last bus. His royal blue camp tee clings to his torso like sin, accentuating his broad frame. You’re speechless when he reaches you, putting his arms around you and lifting you off the ground before landing a big kiss on your lips. The campers are grossed out, giggling and making faces.

When he pulls away, cupping your face in his hands, you can feel everyone’s eyes on you, just as shocked as you are to see him finally arrive. “I missed you, babe,” he says, planting one more kiss on your forehead. “So what have I missed?”

if you made it this far, thank you! follow @baronessvonglitter-fics for updates 💚

SCHEDULE: Every Friday

Chapter 1. - (scheduled 7/17)

Chapter 2. - (scheduled 7/24)

Chapter 3. - (scheduled 7/31)

Chapter 4. - (scheduled 8/7)

Chapter 5. - (scheduled 8/14)

Chapter 6. - (scheduled 8/21)

Chapter 7. - (scheduled 8/28)

Chapter 8. - (scheduled 9/4)

Chapter 9. - (scheduled 9/11)

Chapter 10. - (scheduled 9/18)

You normally sleep in on Saturdays. But when you wake up today and remember that in a few hours Frankie will be arriving to take you on a date it’s like every cell in your body has been directly injected with caffeine. Its 7:15 and you’re already absolutely wired.

You check your phone and smile when you see you already have a message from Frankie.

F: Good morning beautiful.

You: Good morning Frankie. I hope you slept well.  

You lounge back in your bed and think about him, about last night. How easy it was to talk to him. And do other things with him. Your face burns as you remember how shameless you were with him. How filthy his words were. But he’d been so kind and sweet afterwards, giving you aftercare when he wasn’t even in the room with you. That was more than any of your previous partners had ever bothered to do.

Your phone buzzes, you grab it from the nightstand and almost drop it on your face in your haste to unlock it.

F: Like a log baby. How about you? You have more of those sweet dreams?

You: The sweetest

Your phone buzzes as a little heart emoji pops up on your message.

You: I can’t wait to see you later

 F: Me either baby. Good thing I have some errands to run or I’d be fixing to turn up on your doorstep 4 hours early.

You: I wouldn’t mind…

F: Oh baby please don’t tempt me!

You giggle. High on the feeling of someone choosing you. And choosing you without the hesitation or mind games that usually come with dating.

 You: Haha, go and do your errands baby, I’ll see you in a few hours.

F: Yes ma’am

F: I like it when you call me baby 😉

You put your face in your hands and scream. With embarrassment or joy, you’re not sure. You hadn’t even realised you’d done it. It had just flowed into the text naturally, like you were always supposed to call him that. You realise with glee that you have not overthought or spiralled once during this whole interaction. Angie is gona be so proud of you.

You’re halfway through your breakfast when you get a message from her.

A: So how did it go last night?? 

You: Amazing, he’s so lovely. 

A: C’mon, give me details! Where’s he taking you, did you talk long?

You: We talked for a bit but then we got…distracted.

A: ??? What does that mean?!

You: Things got a little frisky...

Your phone is ringing before you can even put it back on the table. You’re giggling as you answer and have to hold the phone away from your ear as Angie screeches down the line.

“WHAT!! What does frisky mean, I need details right now!” 

You giggle again, completely giddy at the memory of last night.

“Well we were talking about our days and then making plans for today-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, get to the good parts.”

“Well, he said if he’d seen me last night he wouldn’t have the energy to be a gentleman…so I asked him to tell me what he would have done if he was here. So he did. And things kinda escalated from there.”

“YOU DID WHAT?! Who are you and what have you done with my girl?! How escalated are we talking?” 

You’re laughing all through Angie losing it on the other end of the phone. It’s normally her telling you about her various escapades and you living vicariously through her. Or you recounting sad tales of mistreatment by the men you’re seeing. It’s nice for it to be the other way round on both counts. 

“Well he said some very lovely but very filthy things and we um, we listened to each other…y’know.”

“You had phone sex?!” 

“Well, yeah,” you laugh. 

“And how was it?”

You sigh dreamily, “it was amazing. I swear I’ve never had an orgasm like it.”

Angie squeals down the phone.

“And how was he after?”

“So sweet. Checking in with me, making sure I was ok.”

“Oh I love that! Sounds like you hit the jackpot! So where’s he taking you today?”

“Picnic in the park.”

“Oh that’s cute! What’s the outift?” 

“I was thinking the blue sundress and sneakers.”

“Yes, I love that on you! That is so your colour. He's gona be blown away." 

"You think?" you ask, first signs of nerves making themselves evident in your quiet voice.

"Honey I know! And by the sounds of it, you could turn up in a bin bag and he'd still be all doe eyed for you. Bet he turns up on your doorstep with a big bunch of flowers too."

Panic rips through you. "You think?

"Well yeah, it is Valentines Day," Angie says, registering the change in tone, "you love flowers, why would that be a problem?" 

"I didn't get him anything. He said he had errands to run, what if he's spent the morning doing something thoughtful for me and he turns up and I have nothing for him? Oh God but then what if I do get him something and he hasn't got me anything and he thinks I'm a weirdo?" 

Angie laughs in relief. "Ok, there's my girl, was beginning to worry you'd had a personality transplant."

"Angie!" you whine, "what am I gona do? Do I have time to go shopping? What would I even get him?" 

"Ok ok, relax. It's gona be fine. You don't have to go shopping. Men are impossible to buy for at the best of times and I know how much you hate generic gifts. You'd work yourself up into a tizzy trying to work out the best gift for a man you've spoken to twice."

"This is not helping!" you scold her. 

She just laughs, "ok, I'll stop teasing you. I'll help but you have to calm down first. Take a big deep breath for me."

You comply, just because you know you will get her assistance much quicker if you do. 

"And another one... there how's that, feeling calmer?"

"Yes," you tell her sulkily. Because you actually do and you hate it that she's right all the time. 

"Ok, so no shopping is needed. What is the one thing I always ask for when I want you to show me that you love me?"

"Brownies," you tell her with an exhale, a smile spreading over your face. While you hate it when she's right, you have to hand it to her. It's perfect. Its a thoughtful gift, that shows you thought of him without going over the top. And if he shows up empty handed then you can just say that you baked them for the picnic and he will never know what a loon you are. 

"Brownies," she agrees. "Poor sucker really doesn't stand a chance. If he's not already in love with you now, wait til he gets a mouthful of those bad boys. You'll have him eating out of the palm of your hand."

You laugh at her. Her love for your brownies knows no bounds. "Thanks Angie. I mean it. You always know what to do. I'd be lost without you you know?"

"I do know. And if you want to thank me with a brownie, I'd be all for that."

You snort. "You know there's no way in hell I'd make a batch of brownies and not save you one."

"And that my dear is why I would be lost without you too. Now, go get baking, time is ticking! And I want date details later on ok?"

"Ok. I'll speak to you later."

You hang up and immediately get to work. Brownies first, then they can be cooling while you get ready. 

It's as you're taking the brownies out of the oven that things start to go wrong. You catch your arm on the side of the tray and almost drop the whole batch on the floor. You somehow manage to make it to the worktop with the burn on your arm searing. The tray clatters onto the surface and you see a big crack form in your carefully crafted bake. Fucking great. Tears start to prick at your eyes as you run your arm under cool water. It stings like a bitch. 

Once the brownies have cooled you try to cut around the crack, but they're a crumbling mess. You try picking out the best brownies, putting them carefully in your nicest tub with a pretty napkin in the bottom. They look messy and the perfectionist in you wants to throw them out and start again but you don’t have time. 

You manage to make it through your shower without incident and try to shake off your earlier mishap. You focus on getting yourself ready, moisturising your body and listening to an upbeat playlist, singing along at the top of your voice, completely out of tune. 

You carefully do your make up, opting to keep it light and fresh but somehow manage to drop your foundation bottle and you groan in frustration as it smashes on the floor.

“Fuuuuuck!” you groan, staring at the mess of broken glass strewn across the floor and oily liquid seeping into your rug. You’re so annoyed, it had been almost full and you don’t have time for this but you can’t just leave it. You run to the kitchen for a dustpan and brush, googling the best way to clean foundation out of fabric. Head in your phone and panic setting in you completely misjudge where you’re walking and smack straight into the corner of the dining table with your hip. You scream in agony as the sharp corner makes contact. That will definitely leave a bruise. 

You’re sniffling as you make your way back into your room with your gathered cleaning supplies to clean up the mess, the flesh of your hip now tender and throbbing along with the burn on your arm. You do your best to clean up the glass without smearing the foundation further into the rug but you can see the sharp little shards that remain. Would be just your luck today to scratch yourself to smithereens. 

You blot up the oily liquid as best you can, not rubbing, trying to minimise the damage. You apply dish soap and blot again with warm water, hoping that it will work. You keep at it until you think it’s not going to get any better. The stain is still visible, the rug totally ruined.

You heave a defeated sigh, getting to your feet and fetching the vacuum to try and pick up all the remaining glass. 

You chance a look at the clock. You’re so far behind schedule. You’d planned your timings with such care so that you wouldn’t be rushing, knowing how stressful you find that and wanting to be in as calm a headspace as possible for when Frankie arrived. But now it’s already tipped past 12 and you still have to finish your make up, get dressed and get all your shit out of your drab work purse into the cute one you planned to bring today. 

You take a deep breath and try to calm your hammering heart. Of all the days for things to keep going wrong. You finish your make up and get up, quickly throwing on your underwear and your dress. You look at yourself in the full length mirror, and groan in despair, You’re so bloated your stomach looks round and protruding under your dress. 

“No, no, no, no,” you wail. Not today. You curse yourself for your food choices yesterday, a burger AND pizza the day before a date! What were you thinking?! This is by far your most flattering dress and you usually feel so good in it. It had been a no brainer for your date outfit but as you stare at yourself you feel so hideous and worthless you can’t help but burst into tears. 

You have nothing else to wear. If this dress looks bad on you, everything else will be 10 times worse. 

You rack your brains for a way to try and hide your belly but your mind has shutdown to rational thought and is instead berating you for being so stupid. For ever imagining that you could be good enough for Frankie. For making bad decision after bad decision.

You turn away from the mirror, knowing that the reflection isn’t going to change no matter how badly you wish it will. There is no comfort for you there. 

You manage to take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. It helps a little. You sit back at your dressing table to try and fix your make up but its made decidedly more difficult every time a tear slips down your face. 

And to make matters even worse your doorbell rings at 12:20. He’s early. But you told him you wouldn’t mind if he was so you only have yourself to blame. You trudge to the front door, no spring in your step. No excitement. You dread the moment Frankie takes a look at you and you see the light of desire for you burn out in his eyes. 

You steel yourself. You swing the door open and there he is, your breath catches in your throat. He’s even more handsome than you remember, his deep brown eyes look so deep in the light of day, the bright sun painting his face in golden glow.

His face lights up and his shoulders relax when he sees you and you and he’s holding out something to you. A Lego rose. Not the bunch of flowers Angie had predicted but something real and solid that you’ll be able to keep forever as a reminder of your first date.

The joy quickly drains from his face as he takes in your appearance and you think you’re about to vomit, certain you’ll never find anyone as wonderful as him again.

But instead of making his excuses and swiftly departing he’s pulling you into his arms, wrapping you up in his tight embrace. You break almost immediately, sobbing into his chest.

“Baby, what’s wrong, did something happen, are you ok?” His voice is full of concern and his hand is stroking up and down your back in an attempt to soothe you.

“Baby, please talk to me,” he pleads and you try to get yourself under control, to stop the embarrassing flow of tears, to catch your breath enough that you can respond.

“I-I’m s-so s-s-sorry Frankie,” you gasp between sobs and hiccups, “I’m so s-stupid.”

“Hey, none of that,” he tells you sternly. “You’re not stupid, you’re allowed to be upset, tell me what happened.” He clutches you tighter to him and your body just wants to melt. If he wasn’t holding you up you think you’d be a puddle on the floor.

“I-I burnt m-m-my arm, and I r-ruined your present a-and I s-stained my rug and I banged my hip and I-I look t-t-terrible in my dress, a-and I w-w-wanted to be perfect for you, I’m s-so sor-ry Frankie.”

“Hey, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. You are perfect, just as you are. Let me see you.”

You shake your head against him and bury your face fully into his chest, fists balling in his shirt. You know your face will be swollen and tear stained and your make up will be ruined. Paired with your awful big, fat belly you’re not fit to be seen.

"Ok, ok, just stay right there a minute and let me hold you," he whispers. His palm resumes the slow stroke of your back before he asks, "you said you hurt yourself baby, will you let me see? Will you let me take care of you?"

"You're t-too kind Frankie. Y-you don't n-n-need to take care o-of me. I know you're p-probably w-wanting to leave."

"What?! Baby no!" he tells you, forcing you out from his chest this time, one big hand firmly but gently wrapped around your upper arm and his other arm still linked around your lower back. Moving you out but keeping you close. You still want to wail at the loss of contact. You feel his hand cup your chin and direct your face upwards, and you finally see him, his face the image of distress. You hate yourself for causing him to look like that.

"I'm not going anywhere. I know you've had a bad morning and I hate that you're sad but I hate it even more that you think that it's a reason that I'd want to leave. I told you I didn't want you to hide from me. And the reason I want to know when you're feeling bad is because I want to take care of you and make you feel better,'" he takes a deep breath and rests his forehead against yours, "will you let me?"

You nod your head, in awe of this amazing man and his seemingly never ending patience for your nonsense. He smiles at you, it's wide and radiant and makes your heart beat a little faster. "Words baby, use that pretty voice."

You take a shaky breath, unsure if it's the remnants of your meltdown or the way he's using that commanding tone again.

"Yes Frankie," you manage to croak out, too tightly wound to utter much more.

He hums in satisfaction, "good girl, now show me where you hurt yourself."

Still sniffling you lift up your arm to showcase the ugly burn on the inside of your forearm.

"Oh baby, that looks sore," he says as he gently takes your arm and bends to place the softest kiss against it. It still stings but it's such a tender gesture that you notice the steady pulse that starts in your core. You've never been treated like this before and your body is fully on board.

He straightens up and looks back in your eyes, "what happened?"

Your shoulders sag, "I was baking you something, when I took it out of the oven I caught my arm."

His eyes widen and the arm still around your back squeezes you in, pulling you flush with him once more, cradling your cheek in his other big hand.

"You baked for me baby?"

You nod and a fresh wave of tears leak from your eyes, "I ruined it though, I nearly dropped the tray and I was too rough when I put them on the counter and it cracked and- "

"Hey, hey, hey," he murmurs, cradling you gently against his chest again. "You are so sweet baby, baking for me! I can't tell you the last time someone did something like that for me. You're so thoughtful."

You sniffle, "I'm sorry I messed them up."

"Nuh-uh, I know whatever you've made me will be delicious, I can't believe you did that for me baby. Thank you."

You relax into him. The tension starts to ease from your body. You feel so safe with him. You think even if he were to leave now it would still be the best date you've ever been on. Just standing with him, talking to him, being held by him. It's incomparable. He's just watched you in full meltdown mode and he didn't even flinch. You don't know what you did to deserve him.

"Ok, what else?" he asks you, "you said something about your rug?"

You huff a laugh against his chest, he really was working his way through your tale of woes, crossing items off like a grocery list.

"You don't need to worry about that. I just was clumsy and knocked something off my dressing table. I tried to clean it but it looks as though it's stained."

"Show me anyway, maybe I can help."

You smile against his chest. As happy as you are tucked against him you're feeling better so you take his hand and lead him into the house and into your bedroom. It's only once you're in there that you register how intimate this is. Him seeing your private space. You'd always intended to invite him inside for a few moments, into the living room before you headed out. But this is another level.

You sneak a look at him. He's not looking around or trying to snoop, he's fixated on one spot, seeing the problem straight away. He drops your hand and walks over to the spot, crouching down to run his hands over it. It's then you notice he's still got the lego rose in his hand and you want to throw yourself at him.

"What did you use?'

"Google said dish soap and warm water."

He nods, matter of fact. "You got any baking soda?"

"Um, yeah I think so," you turn around and run into the kitchen to rummage in the pantry. An excited "aha!" escapes you when you locate the baking soda.

When you turn around he’s leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, watching you with a crooked smile. It takes your breath away how handsome he is. You can’t believe that he is here for you.

“This is for you,” he tells you, looking slightly unsure. He pushes away from the door and moves towards you, extending the rose to you. You feel your face heat as you take it from him, overwhelmed by how thoughtful it is.

“I’m uh, I’m sorry it’s not real roses, the ones that were left were kinda crappy,” he tells you nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

You silence him with a peck to his lips and both his hands land gently on your waist to pull you closer.

“It’s perfect Frankie, I love it thank you.”

“Really?” he asks and you can hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“Really,” you reassure him, giving him another kiss, and looping your arms round his shoulders, “I prefer this actually, I’ll get to keep it forever.”

The smile he gives you sends warmth surging through your body. He leans in again and you meet him half way, savouring having him close, having his lips on yours. And when his tongue tentatively swipes at your lips you eagerly open to allow him entrance, moaning into his mouth as his tongue dances with yours and he holds you so close you can feel his heart hammering in his chest.

A whine escapes when he breaks the kiss. Just like at the bar. And just like at the bar he soothes you, pulling you in tighter to him and kissing softly over your cheeks.

"I know baby, I know. I'd stand here and kiss you all day but I'd really like to take you out, if you still want to go?"

"I want to," you tell him, "but how about just a little more kissing before we go?"

"You're killing me baby," he groans but it doesn't stop him leaning back in and thrusting his tongue back into your mouth. Where the first kiss was sweet and soft, this one is needy and passionate. Your arms loop back round his neck, rose still in hand and one of his wraps you tight and holds you against him, his other hand coming up to cradle your face. His tongue presses more forcefully against yours and he tastes so good it doesn't take long for your needy core to start throbbing again. You've never been so turned on just from a kiss.

When his hand on your back starts to roam lower and grabs possessively at your hip you break the kiss with a loud yelp. Frankie freezes for a moment, confused and horrified at your reaction.

"Baby what's wrong?" he begs you, taking a step back to give you space, afraid that he's crossed a boundary.

Tears prick at your eyes again, there's no point trying to hold them back, they always flow easier once the damn has initially burst and you've cried so many times today, their descent is inevitable.

You clutch at his shirt to keep him from going too far and the tension leaves his shoulders that you're still reaching for him, glad he hasn't ruined things.

"I'm sorry, I banged my hip earlier, it's a little sore."

He pulls you back into his chest, his arm back around your back and one hand gently cradling your head.

"I'm so sorry baby, I completely forgot. I can't believe I hurt you, please forgive me!"

You laugh against him, you're honestly starting to wonder if you've fallen ill and this is all some fever dream. Except you know it can't be because you know your brain could never conjure the prospect of a man this wonderful being interested in you.

"Shh Frankie, it's ok, you didn't do anything wrong. Honestly, I totally forgot about it, you had me very distracted."

He lets out a relieved huff, refusing to let you go for a minute, finally kissing you on the crown of your head before releasing you.

"How about we sort out the rug and then we go on our date? What do you say?"

"I say yes," you smile at him, "just going to find something to put my rose in, two seconds."

He picks up the baking soda off the counter and turns towards the bedroom, "you sort that out, I got this."

You watch him walk away, checking out his cute bum and broad shoulders. And those curls that make you want to run your fingers through them, maybe give them a gentle tug.

You shake your head to dispel those images from your mind, your panties are already soaked and you're not sure you're going to be able to sneak another pair to change them while Frankie is in your bedroom.

You hunt through your cupboards for something to put your rose in but you can't find what you're looking for. You head into the bathroom and find the vase you had in mind. A quick glance in the mirror reveals your make up is totally ruined so you quickly give your face a wash. You will have to go au natural the rest of the day seeing as your foundation is now soaked into your rug.

You put your rose pride of place on the bookshelf in the living room. the vase isn't ideal and you resolve to buy a better one but it will do for now. You can't help but smile as you admire it. The thought that he went out to look for roses for you and deemed none of them worthy so took the time to build you this instead makes your heart flutter and your oussy clench.

You take a deep, happy breath to steady yourself and try and force your body into line. You like him a lot and you feel so comfortable with him but you're not ready to share your body with him yet. Too many bad experiences built up in your past to make it an appealing thought. Except your body doesn't seem to have gotten the memo. Your pussy wants you to walk in there and throw him on the bed and let her take her fill. Your brain is wondering whether the first time he sees you naked he'll be able to maintain a boner. Because that's definitely not an experience you want to relive. Even if that guy had turned out to be a douche of epic proportions that you were better off without, the fact that his body had physically rejected you still stung.

You shake your head to try and dispel the memory. Frankie isn't like Dickhead Derek. He wanders out from your bedroom and you can't help but smile back at him. All thoughts of other men evaporating in a cloud of mist.

"I put some baking soda on the stain, needs to stay on for a little while, can clean it up when we get back."

You nod, "ok, thank you." You feel a little bad for making him do that for you on your first date. It really has been calamitous so far. But he doesn't seem put off by it.

"Shall we go?"

"Yes, lets." You start to head towards the door then remember, "oh wait!" You dash back into the kitchen and grab the little tupperware with his brownies in. You shyly hand them over to him and he pulls you in to give you a quick peck on the lips.

"I still can't believe you baked for me, sweet girl."

"I hope you like them."

"I know I will."

He ushers you out the door and into his truck. Before you set off he reaches over to the glove compartment and pulls out a little blue bag. He unzips it and pulls out a little silver container that when he opens contains a clear gel.

"Give me your arm a second baby." You hold it out for him and he gently smears some of the gel over the burn on your arm, it's cool and soothing on your skin.

"Aloe vera," he tells you with a wink, packing it away, "always getting little burns working on the chopper so always try to keep some close, it'll help."

"Thank you Frankie," you tell him. He definitely clocks how breathless your voice is because his mouth twitches into that crooked smirk that you find so endearing.

"You're welcome baby."

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

The rest of your date is thankfully uneventful. He takes you the bakery and you choose some delicious treats. You walk through the park hand in hand until you reach a little lake. He sets up a blanket and you get settled on it, he pulls out the food you bought and some drinks and you talk and spend the time getting to know each other.

You feed the ducks and at one point he gets up and pulls you into his arms to slow dance to a busker who has set up near the path. And it's so easy and lovely. The conversation flows so fluidly and the quiet periods are never uncomfortable. He listens attentively when you talk, nodding and offering insights when you ask for them.

Despite all the goodies you got from the bakery he still insisted on bringing the brownies with you. And when he opens up the tub he groans and tells you how delicious they smell. And he groans again at the first taste, fawning how delicious they are, pulling you down into a very chocolatey kiss when you've both finished your brownies, murmuring his thanks against your lips.

And then you sit on the blanket cradled against his chest and watch the sunset before packing up and heading back to the truck. He drives you home, his big hand settled over your knee the whole way. And you love it, the claim of it. The way it screams that you are his. By the time you get home you feel almost drunk on the endorphins that are coursing through you.

He opens the door of the truck and walks you to your door. You curse yourself for putting off changing the bulb in the porch light as you see him frowning up at it. He doesn't say anything though, just pulls you into his arms and kisses you on the lips.

"Thank you so much for today, I had the best time," you tell him and he looks like you just hung the moon and stars.

"Me too baby, thank you for letting me take you out. I'd really love to see you again if that's ok?"

You let out a little giggle, "yes baby, I would like that very much." And he groans when you call him that, pulling you into the most needy kiss yet, it's sloppy and frantic and your hands have looped round his neck and finally wrapped your fingers in those curls. Your body is pressed fully against his as his tongue dips into your mouth, his nose tickling your cheek as his mouth moves desperately with yours.

And you're moaning now too, right into his mouth and you tug on his hair drawing a pathetic whine out of him as his hands sink to your ass, carefully avoiding your bruised hip and you're now very thankful that you didn't change that light bulb so that all your neighbours aren't getting a show.

A growl rumbles in his chest as he squeezes the flesh of your ass and he crowds you against the door, breaking away from your lips and kissing down your jaw to your throat. And fuck you want him. You want him so bad as you feel his hand on your thigh, still over your dress but it's enough to send a wave of slick into your already sodden panties.

And it hits you all at once. How devastating it will be to lose him. You've been on one date but you're already addicted. You're not ready to take any risk of putting him off. Your head that was buzzing with want just a moment ago is now buzzing with fear. You're not ready to be physical with him.

So you gently push at his shoulders, "Frankie, Frankie, wait."

And that's all it takes. He straightens immediately, hands returning to your waist as he looks you in the eyes.

"Sorry baby, I got carried away."

"I'm sorry Frankie, it's not that I don't want to," you desperately try to explain yourself, "I really do, but I'm not sure I'm ready for that."

"Hey, it's ok, you haven't got anything to be sorry for. We go at your pace and not a bit faster ok?"

You bite your lip and turn your head away. You're so annoyed at yourself as you feel more tears pricking at your eyes. You're such a fucking mess.

"No, don't cry sweet girl, tell me what's going on."

"I'm so confused Frankie. I want you so bad but I'm so scared. It's like my mind and my body are at war with each other. And I know I'm sending you mixed signals and I don't want to scare you off but I'm terrified you'll get bored and give up on me."

He leans in and kisses his way over your cheek and back to your mouth. It's softer, more chaste and sweet.

"Baby, I want you too but you don't ever have to do anything you don't want. All of you. We don't have to go any further until your brain and your body are both ready, you hear me?"

You nod.

"Words baby," he directs you.

You sniffle, "yes Frankie."

"Good girl, come here." He pulls you into his embrace, your head finding a home on his chest once more. It's quickly becoming your favourite place to be.

He sways you gently, his arms engulfing you until he feels your heart and your breathing begin to calm.

"There now, feel better?"

You nod and belatedly throw in a "yes Frankie," already expecting to be told to use your words. "But..."

"But what baby?"

"I'm still so turned on."

He lets out a surprised laugh and kisses you again. "You're gonna be the death of me baby." He cradles your face and gives you lots of sweet little kisses that leave you mewling. You feel his cock twitching in his pants and that almost breaks your resolve but before you can even say anything his forehead falls to rest on yours and he's nudging your nose with his to get your attention.

"Did you like what we did last night baby? On the phone."

Your pussy clenches violently at the memory, a strangled "yes" escaping you as you clutch at his shirt.

"Would you like to do that again?" he asks, his voice sounding low and gravelly just like it did last night and you think you might pass out.

"Fuck yes!"

"Hmmm good girl," he murmurs against your check, his hot breath on your skin causing goosebumps to erupt over your body. "Here's what we're going to do," he starts, pulling back and looking you deep in the eyes, his pupils blown wide with desire. "You're going to go inside and I'm going to get back in my truck and I'm going to call you."

You whimper as he starts to kiss down your throat again. "And you're going to answer and let me listen to you playing with your pretty pussy ok?"

You whine as his kisses continue down over your chest, one soft kiss placed on the swell of each breast over your dress and still he's sinking lower.

"And while you play with your pussy and let me hear how wet she got for me, I'm going to stroke my cock and imagine how she'll feel when he gets inside her."

"Fuck," you whimper, your head tips back and thuds into the door, your legs already feeling like jelly at the thought of Frankie jerking off in your driveway. You look down and he's on his knees now looking up at you, and it's absolutely sinful how debauched he looks.

He leans in to kiss your belly and he feels you tense. Knowing you're sensitive about that part of your body, he diverts and places a gentle kiss on your hip, right on the bruise that this morning he grabbed by accident.

His hands are on the outside of your thighs now, and you think you're about to lose your mind when he says, "and if you want to be a really good girl for me, you'll let me take these panties, so I can smell your pussy while I stroke my cock."

Your whole body spasms with want. Fuck, he's so filthy but in the best way. He wants you but is willing to do this entirely on your terms. And seeing him on his knees for you makes you weak. You think you'd give him anything he wanted right now. You'd let him fuck you despite your own reservations, so how can you deny him when he's asking so little.

"Yes Frankie, take them," you tell him through your panting. Your chest is heaving, your body feels like a live wire.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your mound, making you whine as his hands sneak under your dress to hook into the elastic of your panties and slowly start to inch them down your legs, keeping his eyes on yours the whole time.

And you're completely mesmerised as you watch him gently help you out of your underwear. This feels so much more intimate than you've been with any other man. And you love it.

"Good girl." He lifts his prize and you see him run his thumb along the gusset. "So wet for me baby."

And you should be embarrassed. You really should be, but as you watch him bring his thumb to his mouth and suck off the moisture and see his eyes roll back in his head as he groans, "fuck baby she's a tasty little puss", you feel like a fucking Goddess.

"Frankie!" you whine, so fucking gone now that you think you could come just from watching him. But your desperate little whine snaps his restraint. He's on his feet in a flash, pressing a quick kiss against your lips and growling, "inside, now."

Your body reacts immediately, following his command without question. You fumble your keys out of your handbag and desperately try to get the door open. Once it is you feel him press a kiss against your neck and he's gone, rushing back towards his truck, panties in hand. He turns back before he climbs in and gives you a reassuring nod. You return it and close the door, rushing close the blinds and lay down on the sofa, pulling your phone out of your bag. 

Your heart is beating like it's about to burst out of your chest. And even though you're expecting it you still jump when your phone starts to vibrate. 

You answer immediately, "Frankie please!" you beg, needing to come, needing to hear him. 

"I got you baby, I got you. Gona make sure you see fucking stars."

"Fuck yes," you moan, your free hand already squeezing your breast. 

"Hmmm sound so pretty for me baby," you can hear a zipper through your phone and the thought that Frankie is sitting right outside your window, getting his cock out. 

"You in your bed baby?'

"No the sofa, closer," you huff. Closer to where you were or closer to him, you're not sure, maybe both. 

"Hmmm good girl, what are you doing now, tell me."

"I'm groping my breast."

"Fuck yes, those pretty tits need some attention. Can't wait to get my hands on them properly baby. Gona kiss them and suck on them and then I'm going to fuck them"

"Frankie!" You vocabulary seems to be diminishing by the second.

"You want that baby? My big cock sliding between those beautiful tits?"

"Yes God I want it, I want it so bad." 

"Good girl. Now I want you to slide that hand into between those gorgeous thighs and start playing with your clit while you tell me what else you want to do with my cock."

You whimper as you follow his instructions, your clit is so sensitive you cry out when you make contact. 

"Oh baby is she that worked up for me?" he asks as if he's not sitting outside with your soaking wet panties as evidence for how much he'd riled you up. 

"Oh Frankie!" you moan as you get used to your own touch. You hear him through the phone, the wet thwacking as he beats his meat right out there on your driveway. You hope none of your neighbours get an eyeful. 

"C'mon baby talk to me, where else do you want my cock?"

"Oh fuck! Want him in my mouth, want to suck him and taste him and make him feel good."

Frankie groans down the phone to you and it's a beautiful noise. "Yeah baby, can't wait to fill up that beautiful mouth, feel you all warm and wet around me, fuck! What else baby?"

"In my pussy, I need him in my pussy," you confess.

"Yes, fuck baby, I want to fuck your pussy so bad. I just know she's going to look and feel  as good as she tastes. And smells." He punctuates that with a very loud inhale and you can picture it, him in his car, his leaking cock in one hand and your panties held to his nose in the other and it makes you feral, your fingers speeding up against your poor clit. 

"Gona fill that pussy up so good for you baby, make her fucking sing for me. Put your fingers inside baby, I need to hear her."

You do as he says with a moan, two fingers sinking into your needy hole. You start to pump fast and filthy and the squelching rings round the room, loud and undeniable. 

"Oh yes baby, just like that, fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Gona come baby, tell me you're close."

"I'm so close Frankie, come for me, want to hear you!"

He growls and groans through his peak, panting and calling your name. 

You fucking burst, pleasure scorching through your veins, your whole body spasming, back arching off the sofa as you scream his name. It's fucking transcendent. Your fingers still inside you, your pussy convulsing around them as you pant and groan. Your body finally stills and you flop back on the sofa. 

"Woah," you murmur. You sound like you've just run a marathon, sucking in mouthfuls of air, your chest heaving and your body covered in a sheen of sweat. That was the most intense orgasm you've ever had. 

"Baby, are you ok?"

"Mmmm, I'm amazing baby, that was so good," you tell him. 

He groans again, "fuck, I love you calling me baby."

You giggle, "I love it too."

"Can- can I come in baby. Just to help you get settled and hold you for a while?"

Your heart wants to burst. The way he can go from being the filthiest to the sweetest in seconds is as astonishing as it is delightful. You've never had anyone take care of you or make you feel the way he does. So you don't even need to consider it, "yes please baby."

You hear a relieved sigh, like he'd been scared you would deny him something precious to him, "thank you baby."

"Um Frankie, my legs might be out of action for a few more minutes, but the door is unlocked." 

A minute later he gently knocks on the door before opening it and coming inside. You've managed to drag yourself into a semi-seated position. He rushes to you, "here let me help you up." He helps you to stand on very shaky legs and you can't help but lean in for a kiss. It's fairly PG compared to what you just did but it's so nice. Nice enough to give you the confidence to ask him to stay a little longer. 

"I'm going to go and get cleaned up and get into some pjs, would you like to stay and watch a movie with me?" 

He gives you a dopey, blissed out smile, "I can think of nothing I'd rather do."

Npt: @easybbgrl @aurorawritestoescape @magpiepills @mystickittytaco @misstokyo7love @puduvallee @katw474 @joelsprettygirl @ess-evo @ivoryandflame @brittmb115 @the-sophverse @baronessvonglitter

Tagging some people who enjoyed the first stories.