HornyAsHell🏳️‍🌈🔥

The offer is tempting, you’ll admit, but this is typical of Tristan. While he did do the homework and take your tutoring sessions seriously, he also flirted with you like his life depended on it. Complimenting you, teasing you, practically begging for you to come home with him so he could show you a good time. And while you would love to say yes, it wasn’t why you spent time with him.

His grades were slipping prior to you tutoring him and he only had two choices: get his act together or get shipped to boarding school. So he found you and soon his grades and work ethic started to improve. While tutoring him, you two developed feelings for each other. Yours was kept locked inside your mind and heart while Tristan let it all out in the open.

You don’t mind at all, but you don’t want to compromise his learning because you want to kiss him. So you let him flirt with you, playing the shy girl card and not giving into his advances. But little does he know, you want to be with him so badly.

You slowly pull away from him, fighting every instinct in your body to lean forward. “How was your Calc test?” You change the subject.

Tristan’s shoulders sag and he turns away. “Horrible.”

“Do you say that because you hate Calculus or because you actually think you did bad?” You question. “Both,” he answers.

“Do you know your test score?” You ask. “Nope,” he shakes his head.

“Well, let’s see.” You log onto your computer and into the school’s website. You log into Tristan’s account, finding the newest Calculus test date. Your eyes widen and your jaw drops. “You got a B+, Tris!”

Tristan’s jaw drops to the floor. He looks at the screen, not believing what he sees. “Are you sure this is my test?”

“Yes!” You grin. You turn to him, hugging him tightly in excitement. “I knew you could do it! See, you’re really smart, you just need to put in the work!”

Tristan wraps his arms around you lightly, placing his palms flat on your back and holding you close to him. “I do have a awesome teacher.”

“Ah, Tristan. It’s ‘an’,” you pull away. “Just because you’re doing better in math doesn’t mean you can slack off at English.”

He chuckles, “I’m just kidding.” “Mmhm, you better be,” you snicker, a small smile on your face. “I’m happy to say that I think your parents will not send you to boarding school.”

“All thanks to you,” Tristan says. “You deserve some credit, too.” You shut off the computer, packing up your textbooks and papers. “You’re really smart, Tristan. You just needed a little help, which isn’t something to be ashamed of.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” he remarks. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

“Believe it or not, I failed junior high math,” you say. You hold your finger up to your lips with a smile. “But don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.”

“How come you’re so good at math, though?” He asks. “I got help like you did,” you say simply. You stand up, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You adjust your skirt, pulling the back down as you walk away.

“Are we done already?” Tristan pouts. “Yep. I’m sorry, Tris. My parents are expecting me,” you give him a small smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Make sure to have your essay done for me to revise!”

Tristan sighs as he watches your retreating figure. “I promise,” he mutters. He looks back at the desk, seeing one of the notebooks you had left. He grabs it and

————

“Goodnight, Mom!” You shout as you close your bedroom door. You flip on your light and change out of your Chilton uniform. You slip on a tank top and cotton shorts, heading to your bathroom to brush your teeth.

Your phone chimes as you walk back to your room. You curl up in your bed, opening your phone and smiling as you see a text message from Tristan.

Thinking of you ;) is attached to a picture of him posing next to his essay. You can’t help but laugh at his antics. You text him back, sending a picture of yourself to go along.

You take a picture of you holding the book that his essay happens to be about, captioning it Looks like you could use some company. You send a book emoticon with it, making sure he knows where your head is at.

And while Tristan knows you aren’t flirting with him at the same extent he is, he knows for a fact that you aren’t not playing the same game he is. He texts you back saying Does the girl come with the book? He waits a few minutes, a little disappointed that you didn’t next him back yet. He figures your asleep already. It is pretty late and you are a goody-two-shoes and all.

Tristan decides to get ready for bed as well, but when he puts his papers away, he sees your notebook. He knows he should leave it and return it tomorrow, but it was only 10 PM, and the off chance that you are actually awake pushes him to go to your house. If you are awake, then he could make an excuse for you to revise his essay now, which he knows will take a while since he’s halfway finished and he bull-shifted his way through it. It’s a chance to spend time with you, and in the end, that’s all he desires.

Tristan sneaks out of his house, taking his bike and riding your to house. He’s thankful that you’re house is only a mile away, otherwise it wouldn’t be as easy to sneak out.

He parks his bike in your lawn, rushing to the side of the house where your room resides. He tries to throw rocks at your window, but it doesn’t catch your attention. It’s weird, he thinks, as your bedroom light is still on.

Inside your four walls, you’re still awake. Your laying on your back in your bed, your phone resting on your nightstand beside you. Your shirt is riding up your stomach, your hand massaging your left breast while your other hand is in your panties, rubbing your clit.

“Mmm, Tristan,” you hum, your eyes closed as you imagine him fingering you instead of yourself.

You picture his perfect body over you with his big hands groping your body. His tongue licking your nipples and mouth sucking on your tits while he teases you between your thighs. You imagine him to make you beg for it until your practically crying for him to fuck you.

You spread your legs wider, getting deeper into your fantasy. “Fuck, Tris,” you pant as you slip a finger inside of you. His fingers would stretch you out more, getting you ready for the real deal. His tongue would lick down your body, nibbling softly as he goes further and further south. You’re aching by now, needing more than just your fingers.

Your eyes flutter behind your lids as you try to imagine how his tongue would feel on your clit. His lips sucking the aching bud, the tip of his tongue flicking it and making you squirm. You can’t help but whimper out loud as the thought. You need him so bad.

As if the universe was listening in on your wishes, you find Tristan outside of your window. At first, you think it’s a dream. Your vision is fuzzy from your eyes being closed for so long, and your body is tired from doing the work yourself. But as you get up and walk towards your window, you discover that it’s very much real life.

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself. Heat crawls up your neck and embarrassment takes over your features. You cannot that you just got caught masturbating, especially by the the person whom you were thinking about.

Tristan taps on your window, gesturing for you to open it up. You sigh and decide to face your fears. You slid up the window, immediately crossing your arms as he climbs in.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You ask, your voice low so your family doesn’t hear you.

Tristan opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He can’t get the imagine if you masturbating out of his mind. Your hips bucking up to your hand, the sight of your tits as your tank top was half covering them, the way your face was scrunched up in pleasure. The more he thought about it, the tighter his pants became.

“Well, come out with it! You’re not supposed to be here,” you gripe.

“I-I came here to return this.” He holds out your notebook.

Your eyes widen as you look down. “Oh. Thank you.” You toss your notebook on your desk. You look back at Tristan, raising your brows. “Is there anything else you want.”

“N-No,” he shakes his head. His eyes rake up and down your body, burning holes in your skin. You clasp your hands in front of your thighs, looking away shyly. As Tristan looks at your face, he regains his usual cocky attitude, smirking a little. “But it looks like you could use some help.”

You roll your eyes. “You saw nothing, okay? Go back home and go to sleep. I’m sure you still have to write that essay tomorrow morning, right?”

“I actually brought it here,” he gestures to his backpack that’s on his shoulder.

“Well, tutoring center is closed. Sorry.” You spin on your heel, taking a step to your bed. Tristan sets his bag down and reaches out, grabbing your forearm and spinning you around.

“C’mon, angel. We both know you need me,” he whispers.

Your heart hammers against your ribcage. “H-How do you know it’s you I need? It could be Dean, you know?”

Tristan chuckles, “you’ve never looked at Dean a day in your life. And plus, I can read lips, angel. You were most definitely saying my name.”

You take in a shaky breath, your head spinning. You’ve spent months fantasizing about him. Never in your wildest dreams did you think they would become a reality - not on purpose, at least.

“I’m sure you know this by now, but I share your feelings,” he hums. He skims his fingers up your bare arm, reaching his hand up to your face and cupping your cheek. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.”

Your stomach flips. “I bet I’ve wanted you for longer.”

He grins in reply. He places his hand on your waist, spinning you around to face your mirror. He pulls you flush against his chest. You can feel his boner against your ass.

“Tell me, what do you want from me? What were you imagining earlier?” He hangs his head down and softly kissing your jaw. Your eyes are glued to the mirror as you watch his hands ghost over your body. “Unless you don’t want me to touch you, you have to speak, princess.”

Your throat becomes dry as you think of the words. You can’t think about anything but his lips on your skin. They burn as they trail down your neck. His kisses become more sloppy and more needy as he continues. He nibbles at the nape of your neck, causing your knees to buckle. You never knew something simple as being kissed on the neck could feel this good.

You bring a hand up to the back of his head and clutch the hair at the nape of his neck. His arm holds you up for support, his teeth sinking further into your skin.

“I guess I’ll go,” he sighs. As soon as he pulls away, you yelp. “No! Stay. I-I need you.” You hate how desperate you sound, but you can’t help it. Your panties are soaked and he’s the only one who can fix it.

“What do you need me to do?” He asks.

You breath in deeply as you set your eyes on your reflection. “I… I need you to touch me here.” You gently grab his hand, slowly placing it into your right boob.

“Mhmm, and what else?” He slowly massages the soft tissue, feeling your nipple harden against his palm.

“And here,” you place his other hand on your hip, guiding his fingers down to your drenched core. “Oh, yeah? Is this what you were thinking about earlier?” He whispers.

“Yes,” you nod. “I was thinking about how good it would feel to have you pressed up against me. The way you would stretch me out. I was thinking about how good your cock would feel inside of me.”

Tristan shudders behind you, not being able to control himself anymore. He takes ahold of your hips and pushes you onto the bed. “Mind if I make your dreams a reality?” He asks.

“Please, be my guest,” you nod eagerly.

He dives down and captures your lips in a heated kiss. You moan in his mouth as your tongues skim alongside each other. Kissing him turns you on even more. It’s just what you need to get yourself out of your daze.

You buck your hips up to his, his erection brushing up against your clothed clit. Tristan lets out a soft moan in your mouth. He kisses you faster, gasping for shallow breathes in between. His hands roam your body, tracing your curves a million times as if you commit it to memory. You decide to take your lead in touching him, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head.

He pulls away for a split second to help you take off his shirt. You throw it onto your ground, mouth watering at the sight. Your hands skim his toned stomach, your fingertips trailing across his very prominent v-line.

“Who knew Tristan Dugray looked like this?” You breath out.

Tristan shrugs nonchalantly. “It’s all natural.”

You giggle in reply, grabbing his neck and bringing my him back down to kiss you. You take the initiative and take off your tank top, leaving you practically naked under him.

Tristan sits back on his heels, taking in your almost naked body. “You are beautiful.”

You smile, “thank you.”

He fingers the hem of your panties, looking to you for confirmation. You nod at once and he slides them down your legs, tossing them to the side. He’s mesmerized by you. You’re perfect.

“Are you going to keep staring or do something, Tris?” You tease.

His cheeks glow pink and he grins. “Just admiring the prettiest girl in the world.”

You sit up on your elbows, placing your lips next to his ear. “How about you make the prettiest girl in the world cum then?”

Tristan’s heart drops to his feet. He nods feverishly, placing his hands on your inner thighs. You sigh contently as he wraps his mouth around your tits, flicking your nipple with his tongue and sucking on the swollen tissue. His hands run up and down your skin, his fingers tip-toeing to your pussy. He’s so close you can almost feel him. You buck up your hips to his wrist, whining in desperation.

“Patience, angel. Good girls are patient, you know,” he mumbles against your skin.

“I’ve waited long enough,” you whine.

“Desperate little princess,” he taunts. “You need my fingers, hm?”

“Yes,” you nod. “Tell me how bad you want it, baby.” He nips at the skin around your nipple, peering at you through his lashes. Your eyes find his as you speak. “I need you so bad, Tris. It hurts, that’s how and I need you.”

He grins like a devil. “Let me sooth your pain then.” He easily slips a finger into you, groaning at the wetness. You’re like a slip-n-slide. He takes the liberty in slipping two fingers in, your back arching in response.

“Oh, Tristan,” you moan, your pussy squeezing his fingers. He curls them inside of you and brings them to fuck up against your g-spot. He brings his thumb up to your mouth. “Suck for me, angel.”

You do as he says, eyes wide as you wet his finger. He takes it out of your mouth, placing it onto your clit. Your toes curl as he rubs tight little circles over the throbbing bud.

“Ah, Tristan. Mmm, fuck.” His fingers fuck you deeper, picking up the pace just slightly. He rubs your clit faster, his thumb moving from side to side to stimulate each and every nerve.

“Tristan,” you whine. Your walls tighten around him as your stomach coils. “M’gonna cum,” you warn.

“How about you cum on my tongue then,” he suggests, diving down and replacing his thumb with his tongue. You body jerks up, his nose brushing against your vulva as he envelops your clit into his mouth. The sensation is heavenly. His tongue flicks up your clit, his lips sucking loudly. He puts more focus on your clit as his fingers continue to pound inside of you, driving you to your orgasm.

You slap your hand on your mouth as you cum, trying to muffle your moans as to not wake your parents. Tristan draws out your orgasm, licking a stripe up your pussy as he takes his fingers out. You let out a relieved sigh, looking at Tristan through hooded eyes.

“Was that okay?” he asks. You nod, “it was perfect. Man, I should have done this a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you?” he asks. “I was worried it would get in the way of us tutoring,” you explain.

“Maybe we should use this to our advantage,” he grins.

You laugh, “oh, yeah? And how do you suggest that?” You slowly sit on your heels, placing your hand on his thigh. You slide your hand up to the tent in his pants, touching him lightly.

“M-Maybe,” he mutters, his eyes fluttering close. “You can kiss me every time I do something right.”

You sit up on your knees, pressing your bare chest to his as you palm him. “I could get behind that.”

He looks down at you, getting impossibly more turned on. “Y-Yeah?”

You nod with a mischievous grin. “Of course.” You bring your other hand up to his face, running your fingers through his hair. “You know, I didn’t realize how easy you were. My hand isn’t even fully touching you, and you’re already a stuttering mess.”

“And I didn’t realize you could be so dominate,” he states. “You didn’t know from tutoring?” You him. “You should really pay attention more.” You kiss his neck, finding his sweet spot and sucking on it.

He takes in a shaky breath, sitting down on the bed as to not lose his balance. You slip your hands into his pants, looking into his eyes.

“Is this okay?” You ask, slowing your movements. “Way more than okay,” he confirms.

You pump him a few times, collecting his pre cum on your thumb and using it as lubricant. Tristan’s hands find your waist and pulls you closer, your body rubbing up against his.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, his breathing ragged.

You smile, “please do.”

You lay down on your bed after giving him a condom. You watch as he undresses, butterflies fluttering in his stomach as you see his length. He’s a little above average, definitely, and has a good amount of girth to him. You cannot wait to know how he feels.

“Lay back for me, princess,” he says. You do as he says, spreading your legs for him and wait patiently. He smiles as he looks at you. “So gorgeous.” He puts his hands on your waist, bringing you close to him.

“Are you ready?” He asks. “Yes,” you answer.

“Let me know if anything hurts or you just want me to stop,” he says.

You smile, “I will.”

He watches as he slips inside of you, your walls clenching around every inch of his length. You whimper as he stretches you out.

“This feels okay?” He mumbles. “Yes,” you say.

He pulls out of you, then sheathing himself inside of you.

“Ah, Tris —” Tristan crashes his lips into yours to muffle your moans.

“We have to be quiet, baby. Can’t wake up your parents, now can we?” He mumbles against your lips.

You whimper in reply. “Feels good good to be quiet.”

“I know, princess. But be a good girl for me, yeah? You can do that, right?” He hums.

You nod, “m’kay.”

He thrusts inside of you, hitting your sweet spot deliciously. Your back arches, pressing your chest up against his. Your hips buck up, the new angle allowing him to dig deeper. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, dragging down his skin.

“Mm, Tristan. Fuck. Feels so good,” you groan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Feels fucking amazing,” Tristan agrees, holding himself up on his elbows. He fucks you faster, causing your bed to freak, but you two don’t care. All the matters now is each other and how amazing it feels to finally get some release.

Your pussy pulsates around him and he can feel the heartbeat up against your walls. His dick twitches inside of you as he gets close to his orgasm.

“Shit, Y/n,” he breathes out. He fucks you harder, keeping the same pace as before. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling his hips closer to yours. Your room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin and your muffled moans.

“Tristan,” you pant, as you feel yourself getting closer. His movements become sloppier and you know he’s about to cum.

“Tristan, I-I —” your hand grabs at his, bringing it between you two.

“I got you, baby.” He begins to rub your clit, causing you to squirm under him.

“Fuck, Tristan. M’gonna cum,” you mumble.

“Do it for me, baby. Cum all over my cock,” Tristan pants.

You bury your face into Tristan neck as you cum, your body lifting up as you reach your climax. You feel his condom grow heavy inside of you, signaling that he’s cum, too.

His sweaty body rolls off of you and onto your mattress. He takes off his condom, finding a trash can and throwing it away.

You two lay beside each other, cooling off.

“What if your parents find us?” Tristan worries. “It’s a little too late for that,” you chuckle.

Tristan laughs with you. “True.” He throws his arm around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You feel okay?”

“I feel amazing,” you hum. You hug his side, burying your face into his chest.

You two stay in silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s company before Tristan speaks.

“Can we do a round two?” He whispers.

You sit up and smack his chest. “Tristan!”

————

Like and Reblog!

taglist form

It started with regular old bullying. You were one of the few gay guys in your classes. Nate's (external)internalised homophobia drew him to you, and the rest was history. You'd get cornered by the massive quarterback by your locker and get punched in the gut. You'd get called a fag in passing. Nate would even hold you up by your collar and spit on your face after he was done threatening you about something random. But as Nate kept bullying you, as he kept watching you cry benath him, as he kept focusing on the bruises and marks he'd leave on you, something clicked. Or rather, something got hard. Really hard.

At first, Nate didn't wanna believe that some pretty boy crying got his dick hard. But he figured what was the problem with getting his rocks off from time to time, whilst getting his fix of adrenaline from bullying. Your 'relationship' with Nate started with the tall man getting you to blow him for him to leave you alone. He'd proposed the idea like it was nothing! A simple "Blow me in the bathroom and I'll leave you alone for the rest of the day". Part of you was disgusted at the idea of giving that asshole any more pleasure than he was already getting from making your life a living hell. But the temptation of a Nate-free day was too great. You snuck into the disabled student bathroom together. And that's when Nate realised he had a much bigger problem on his hands than he'd thought. 'Cause, whilst getting his dick wet from time to time was fine and all, he didn't realise it was you specifically that was getting him like this... The way you'd gag as Nate fucked your face, the way tears would slowly fall down your pretty face, the way your own dick would twitch in your pants when Nate would call you a fag and a slut. It all went straight to Nate's head. Oh, he was kinda down bad.

Eventually, secret meetings in bathroom stalls turned into late-night visits to each other's houses. Nate had kept to his word and left you alone as long as the two of you kept messing around, so you knew it was in your best interest to keep this little thing going. And though you hated to admit it, holy shit did you enjoy it just as much as Nate did... Hey! That dickhead knows what he's doin'! Nate's skills in the bedroom sure were something; enough to make you forget the past year of relentless bullying, at least for the moment. The way Nate would call you a 'little slut' and a 'pretty boy' whilst he fingered you, spreading your tight walls with his thick, long digits, it would always push you past the edge. And the degrading, patronising comments you'd receive from the mean hunk? Oh, they were the cherry on top~ You came too early? "God you can't even hold off on cummin'? Can you do anything?" You were on your knees, worshipping every inch of Nate's body? "Fuuuuck yeah~ Such a pretty little fag~ Fuckin' love these muscles don't ya?" Problematic? Yes. Hot as fuck? Also yes.

And though the body worship, degrading, and minute bullying really does it for Nate, it's when you start crying that Nate reaches peak satisfaction. The fact that he's brought you to tears from pounding his hips against your ass and being a little mean sends a euphoric (lol) wave of pleasure through Nate. It practically invigorates him to go 10x longer and 100x harder. The quarterback can't get enough of how fucking pretty and sexy you look with puffy red eyes and tears contouring your perfect face. And it helps that Nate knows exactly what buttons to push to get you there too; a couple mean words mixed in with some patronising compliments, along with his huge, veiny dick drilling into your prostate and some slaps to your ass. That's all it takes for your lip and voice to tremble and a few tears to spill down your cheeks. That being said, it's not like you're crying from pain and your feeling getting hurt. At least, not fully. You actually thoroughly enjoy it when Nate pushes you to tears. The amount of pleasure he has to put you through to get you to that point is certainly something you enjoy, and you quickly got behind the light impact play and the mean words that spewed out of Nate's mouth. And fuck did you find it hot when Nate would grab your face harshly by squishing your cheeks and forcing you to look him in the eyes as you cried. Especially when the sadist would lick your tears up, dragging his tongue across your face and giving you a mean chuckle and smirk.

Specific Scenarios:

Getting backshots from Nate in front of his mirror and being forced to look at yourself as he ruins you. Nate holding both your arms back with just one hand; literally just to show off. Ugh, and his other hand tight in your hair, hurting you just enough so you'd tear up, but never harsh enough to actually hurt you.

Giving Nate a blowjob after a big game; his sweaty, musky crotch practically scent marking you. "fuuuck yeah~ Y'love my fucking sweaty dick? Not just a fag but a pervert too, huh [name]?"

Your conversation with your hot classmate was interrupted by your 'boyfriend'. Nate's rough hand gripped your shoulder with a little more force than necessary; he was clearly trying to make a point. His face was as douche-y as ever, his jaw sharp enough to cut, his eyes seductive, and a barely noticeable smirk on his lips. Few words were exchanged, a small 'hey' and some stupid excuse about needing to talk to you alone - but you could understand the subtext; Nate was pissed, as he so often was. As the two of you walked through the emptying corridors, you studied Nate, to guess what exactly you were in for. You walked behind the taller man, taking in his broad, tall figure; Nate was the star quarterback of your college, it made sense that his shoulders were wide and his back was muscular. His arms were built too, swaying slightly as he walked in front of you, his walk masculine and effortlessly dominant - damn, even though you were already getting annoyed at the man, you couldn't help but be very, very attracted to him.

After what felt like hours of awkward silence, the two of you finally reached wherever Nate wanted to take you. The boy's locker room; dirty as always, but quiet for once, the final bell having rang a good while ago. Immediately, you were backed up against a wall; the cool tiles of the locker room against your skin as you stared up into Nate's dark eyes, waiting for him to say something. The taller man looked you over in silence for a moment, his hands in his pockets and his jaw obviously clenched, his demeanour trying to stay cool; but you know him too well for his act to work on you.

"The fuck you think you're doin' letting that dick woo you 'n shit?" Nate spits out, his tone not obviously angry but rather spiteful

"Huh? He wasn't- Even if he were flirting with me, why's it my responsibility to stop him?" You rebuttal. Nate's jealousy was annoying, but you have to admit that you like it when he gets like this; you like pushing his buttons even more.

"Probably 'cause you're my fucking... 'cause you're mine." Nate hesitates, anger starting to seep through via the sound of his voice and his actions; his hands darting out from his pockets to make a 'what' gesture.

"Hm hm! You can't even bring yourself to call me your boyfriend! You're the one who wanted whatever this is to never go public, Nate." You say with a chuckle, emphasizing your situation by gesturing circles with your finger. "So don't get all pissy with me 'cause some guy is flirting with someone who's single in everyone's eyes!" You bark back at your boyfriend, your words calculated and shooting to kill.

"Stop being such a bitch, [Name]." Nate scowls, his eyes fixated on yours. He's back to his cool and collected self; not a good sign.

"Make. Me." You scowl back.

Without a second thought, Nate had already darted towards you; his hand grabbing your cheeks and forcing your face towards his, Nate's other hand resting on the wall above you in a fist. It was a blur, that's how fast the livid man was moving. Within milliseconds, Nate's lips were crashing against your own; his manly, rough hand squishing your cheeks to force your lips apart for him to explore your mouth with his tongue. The quarterback knew you like the back of his hand, his tongue toying with yours in a familiar rhythm, his other hand sliding down the wall to grab your waist; pulling your smaller frame into his massive, built body. Instinctively, your hands slide up Nate's body, feeling up the peaks and valleys of the jock's muscular abs and chest, then settling for gripping one hand on his shirt and another on his buff shoulder as you return the kiss. He must've just finished practice, his shirt damp with sweat and sticking to his bulging muscles. The steamy make-out session seemed to last forever; Nate's lips constantly pushed against your own, and his tongue practically colonised your mouth. But finally, the brunette broke away from you, his face just an inch away from yours as his rugged and uneven panting bounced off of your lips. Fuck. Nate looked so hot. You kept your eyes locked on his, looking up at your boyfriend expectantly as you waited for him to make another move. But Nate had other plans.

Abruptly, the close feeling of Nate's sweaty, jacked body on yours was gone - replaced by the cold, humid air of the locker room. You watched as Nate walked over to the shower cubicles, not moving to follow along.

"You fuckin' coming or what?" Nate probes as he turns to face you but keeps walking backwards into the cubicle; his poker face still in full effect, hiding the scorching anger and possessiveness beneath the surface.

With a roll of your eyes, you follow your boyfriend into the cubicle; shamelessly eyeing him up as he strips his varsity t-shirt off with one hand, his muscles flexing erotically. You follow suit and take off your top, but your hand is halted to a stop by your boyfriend's grip when you reach for your pants. You roll your eyes once more at Nate's childish behaviour but let him do what he wants; resulting in you being backed up once again against the shower door, Nate sliding down your pants and feeling up your thick thighs and ass. The two of you are back to making out, only that this time you're both naked - Nate gripping and kneading your asscheeks like dough, his large, rough hands juxtaposed against the smooth skin of your body. His tongue toyed with yours as small moans escaped your throat and were swallowed by Nate; his ego swelling up subconsciously, knowing that just kissing you is getting those sounds out of you. Wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's thick neck, your breath hitches in your throat at Nate's sudden lifting of your body - his strong arms holding your thighs up, your body squished between the shower cubicle and his buff body, Nate resting you on the hip so that he could grind into you as he kept passionately kissing you. Your arms tighten around Nate's neck, peaking down at him as your mouth continues to be dominated by the quarterback; your boner very obviously rubbing up on your boyfriend's six-pack as you let your body be taken over by excitement and lust.

Nate finally breaks the kiss. Forcing his lips away from yours and taking in the sight before him - his hot boyfriend panting like a dog in heat just from kissing him, a string of thick spit connecting your lips you his, and your face flushed light pink while your eyes glaze over lightly with tears and lust. You let out a whine as Nate starts to kiss your neck. Targeting the spots that he knows make your mind go numb, that will make you let out the noises Nate jerks off to. Mewl after whine leaves your lips, quiet but definitely there; the sounds you make and the way you move your head and contort your face, it's all so fucking hot to Nate. You can feel as the well-endowed man goes from gentle grinds of his dick to full-on dry-humping you - the feeling of his huge dick poking against your ass, it's one that you're now able to recognize within a second.

"You want this dick? Want me to fuck you right now? Stop being such a little bitch 'n I'll fuck you good, babe" Nate lightly grunts out against your skin as he continues to gently mark you.

"Ha ha... Seems like you want it more than me, sweetheart~" you tease

"You're so fucking difficult" Nate mumbles, making a point to bite your collarbone a little harder

"H-ah! -You fucking love it" you grunt out, the (pleasurable) bite interrupting what was meant to be a quick-witted reply.

After a little more foreplay, Nate's patience had finally worn thin; his dick was about to explode from how pent-up he was. So once Nate was satisfied with the state of your upper body (that being: your neck, shoulders and nipples being covered in hickeys and bite marks), he made his move. Nate manhandled into somehow only holding you up with one of his arms (holy shit this man is scary strong) and began undoing his pants with his free hand; dropping his draws as quickly yet as effortlessly as he could. With his Calvin Klein's and jeans around his ankles, Nate slipped a condom on easily and lined his 8-inch monster up to your hole; his tip pressing against your entrance, a feeling all too familiar to the both of you - you two fuck like it's a hobby! With no warning at all, in a jealous attempt at getting you back for being a flirt, Nate thrust his hips up into yours; his dick forcing all the way inside of you. Thank god that condoms come pre-lubed - 'cause HOLY SHIT THAT HURT. You yelp in pain and instinctively bite your boyfriend's muscular shoulder; stifling your moans of pleasure and trying to distract from the pain. Your eyes immediately flushed red, glazing over with tears as the sting of Nate's girthy, long dick pried your walls apart. Even with the condom on, you could still clearly feel Nate's veins, his dick pushing against your walls so snuggly that without even trying, the man was pressing against your prostate already. Your hands gripped the brunette's biceps harshly, your fingers digging into his skin as you try to register the intense feelings of pain and pleasure combining and co-attacking your brain. But you don't have very long to try and get used to your boyfriend's absolute weapon, 'cause he can only be so nice - thirty seconds of holding back is more than enough! He's still fucking seething mind you! Nate's jealousy is only getting grander, rather than lessening at the feeling of fucking you; he felt even more possessive, even more jealous, like a wild animal resource guarding what his.

Moans escape your throat involuntarily. Groans, pants, and whines getting forced out of your throat from the sheer impact of Nate's hips against your ass. Your legs tighten around your boyfriend's small yet muscular waist, your arms having moved from gripping Nate's arms back to wrapping around his neck; visible scratch marks forming all over the jock's massive, buff back. Nate's one arm is holding you up against the shower cubicle as his other hand is slammed against the door above your head; his fucking massive, rough, sweaty palm against the cold plastic cubicle door being the only thing kind of grounding the sex-crazed version of Nate in the moment. As his dick thrusts in and out of your tight, warm hole, Nate keeps mumbling different mantras to himself; nursing his bruised ego, the only thing he can think about is being you with other guys. A carousel of 'mine... all mine, mine, mine', '[Name]...', and 'fuckin' belong t'me' being on loop as your boyfriend fucks you like a mad man. The few moments of silence Nate did have were due to him going back to marking up your body as he continues to fuck you silly. His strong, sharp incisors pressing against your soft neck; sometimes much too harshly.

"Fuck! NATE you're biting too hard!" You shout, pissed off at the man. But your anger doesn't last very long, it can't when your boyfriend's thick dick is assaulting your prostate every other second; sending insane waves of pleasure through your core, and most importantly: your dick.

Your legs dangled on either side of Nate's waist; feet bouncing in rhythm with each one of the quarterback's hard thrusts. You didn't even have to hold yourself up anymore (not that you even could from the fucking you were getting), Nate's arms were able to hold your weight easily, and you were also literally squished up between the wall and Nate's sweaty, ripped body. You could feel Nate getting closer to orgasm, his usual tells showing up like usual; his eyes forcing shut as he focused on keeping his pace, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, his kisses getting softer and softer, despite his pace getting rougher and rougher. Finally, Nate was pushed over the edge - or more so he was fucking lobbed over the edge from the intensity of his orgasm. The brunette was moaning louder than usual, your name falling off of his tongue more than normal, amongst his usual 'fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck's. You weren't too far behind, between Nate's constant pounding into your prostate and the fucking HOT sight before you, it didn't take you more than a minute to follow suit and shoot your load onto your chest and Nate's. That man always made you cum untouched. He had the skills but it was mostly the way Nate looked that pushed you over the edge most of the time; c'mon, he always looked so hot fucking you like his life depended on it! And this time it was no different! His muscles gleaming with a sheen of sweat, Nate's arm flexing as he continued to hold himself up, his damp armpit hair showing ever so slightly; he just always looked so fucking manly, Nate really was your ideal guy...

"Haaa... Haa.... See? Don't need dick from any other guy- haaa- so stop being such a tease and fucking stop flirting with other guys" Nate grunted out. His voice rugged, panting as he tried to regain his breath.

"hngggg.... fuck~ I wasn't flirting! I'll tell guys to back off when you tell them that I'm your boyfriend" you retort, your breath still uneven and pleasure still tingling throughout your body.

Nate chuckles and looks into your eyes for a moment. You can tell he's thinking, something he rarely fucking does, but you don't know what thoughts are running through his head exactly. But here's a little snipped:

'Fuck I love him so much... FUCK WHY DO I LOVE HIM'

'He's mine. My boyfriend. Don't give a fuck about what people think'

'Shit... I do care what others think'

'Fuck it.'

'No'

'Yes'

'No'

'YES'

"Fine... Whatever you want, gorgeous~" Nate mumbles with the smallest smirk, and then leans down to give you a peck on the lips.

You smile back at him, hands gently cupping his face, and whisper a soft 'good'.

Bonus:

Nate's room was like your second home. You were there every other day, either sleeping 'round or just to hang out for a bit. Contrary to popular belief, your relationship with Nate wasn't all sex! You two did have a pretty wholesome relationship! It's just that you both loved having sex with each other as well, so most of the time something sexual was bound to happen.

Like any other day, you were in Nate's room. Your hunk of a boyfriend at his desk playing whatever fps he was into at the moment, and you on his bed scrolling mindlessly. Finally having had enough of your phone, you make your way over to Nate, wanting some attention as always. You rest your arms around his neck and hug your boyfriend from behind, head resting against his shoulder as you mumble an 'I'm bored' into his ear. You watch as Nate finishes his round, his long fingers gliding over the controller; why the fuck was it turning you one...?! Once he's put his game away, Nate takes your hand and has you stand between his legs, looking up at you from his gaming chair with a soft, very small smile.

"What's up?" he asks.

Your hands instinctively cup your boyfriend's cheeks. His sharp jaw resting in your palms as he closes his eyes. You admire the man in front of you, his messy hair, his attractive features, but mostly how different he's become since you met him; he's so much kinder, less hurt than he seemed before.

"Just wanted some attention" you mumble, biting your bottom lip ever so slightly as you keep admiring Nate.

"Well... Depends what kind of attention ya want~" Nate teases, his typical horny smirk plastering across his face as his big, manly hands slide up the back of your thighs and reach your ass. Nate gently holds your plump cheeks in his rough hands, gently squeezing as he looks up at you expectantly.

"What did you have in mind, baby?" You playfully respond, knowing that the pet name had an effect on your boyfriend.

Nate pats his lap and gestures for you to sit, which you do. His hands keep cupping your ass as Nate's lips make their way to yours; soft kisses, the kind that really make you feel at ease. Nate slips his fingers under your waistband and slowly slides your shorts and underwear under your cheeks; gripping them softly and spreading them as he continues to softly kiss you. Bringing a hand up to your face, Nate gestures at you to suck on them; doing this by obscenely poking his cheek with his tongue as he smiles with his eyes. You do as you're told, too lazy to put up your usual battiness.

After a brief moment of sucking on your boyfriend's two fingers as if they were his cock, Nate takes them out of your mouth and brings them back down to your hole. It's a feeling you're used to; one that you particularly enjoy. Hey! Nate's good with his fingers, what can ya do? As the two of you continue your previous kiss, Nate's fingers slowly push past your rim; your tight hole accepting them with ease. Knuckle deep, Nate reaches your prostate immediately, causing you to break the kiss and let out a small, quiet moan. Nate chuckles as you rest your head on his shoulder, gripping onto his sweatshirt as the quarterback continues to work your prostate to perfection; drawing out muffled moans and whimpers despite your best efforts to hold them in.