caalifornia looove

Michael Afton always threw the best parties.

With the best music, the best beer, and the best house since he commutes to college every day. It’s perfect, truly the place to be.

Not to mention his dad always being around to supervise. It’s a little weird when you think about it, a middle-aged man watching a bunch of young adults get shitfaced at his pool, but everyone is too caught up to even spare him a glance.

Besides, it’s not that creepy. He just hangs out to make sure everything is still relatively under control and everyone stays safe… or so he says.

The truth is, he likes to watch how the scene plays out. How the college girls hang all over the guys pretending to be drunk so that they’ll take care of them, how wrecked all of Michael’s friends get over one game of beer-pong. He likes how naïve everyone is… at the best it’s entertaining, it reminds him of when he was young.

He also likes to watch you. He likes to watch your face when you take shots, no matter how many you take you still can never adapt to the flavor, or the feeling of it burning all the way down. You’re so innocent for your age, such a delicate little darling you are. He wants to protect you, which is why he also likes to make sure no one’s trying to pull anything with you, he wants to make sure you’re safe.

He wants to make sure that you, above everyone else, is having fun at these parties.

So when he watches you from across the pool, water lights glowing against your skin and illuminating the tears that trickle silently down your cheeks with a faded smile, he understands that he has failed his job.

She didn’t mean what she said, your friend. It’s true, you’re not a fast learner, especially when it comes to card games, but she didn’t have to tell you that you were too stupid to play.

It hurt, and rightfully so, but truth be told you probably wouldn’t care so much about it if you weren’t six drinks deep. Now, it’s too loud. The music, the chatter, everything. You just need it to stop.

You take another long swig of your beer, holding the bottle by the neck as you sway through the sea of people. You’re hoping that if you reach the perfect level of drunk, nothing will matter to you anymore.

You wipe the tears from your eyes before pausing your steps to take another drink, tilting your head back as you attempt to chug your beer, but losing your balance and stumbling backwards into somebody else.

You gasp as your drink pours all over your shirt, and you knock a little bit of the other person’s drink out of their hands as well.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” They grunt.

The tears halt for a second as you flash them a cheesy, apologetic grin that’s laced with guilt.

“My bad…!”

You try to angle your face just enough so that they can’t notice the tears on your face in the dimly lit night sky, and you figure that it seems to have worked as they shrug and turn back around. You scoff lightly to yourself, letting the tears continue to run as you take another swig of your drink. Then, once your head begins to pound, you decide it’s time to get out of here.

You put your head down and continue your trip around the pool, stumbling into people in every direction as you forget which foot is left and which is right. Warm tears cascade down your cheeks, hugging your skin to tell you everything is alright! but you can’t even see the ground clearly enough to believe it.

Suddenly, you bump straight into a solid surface, nearly falling on your ass before a big hand grabs your shoulder to save you.

“Woah, careful there!”

Oh, you know that voice!

You squint your eyes to try and fight the drunken spinning, cocking to the side as you try to make out the tall figure.

“M-Mr. Afton?” You question, slurring with a squeak in your voice as you swallow a hiccup.

He thumbs at your tears, cocking his head to the side to hum to you.

“Oh, darling… have you had too much to drink?”

Your body heats at his comforting words, he sounds so safe. You can’t help but nuzzle your cheek into William’s big palm, face twisting as you fall apart, tears pouring out of you. You sniffle when you nod, parting your lips to let out soft sobs.

“Oh, dear.” William mumbles, “come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

You shake your head in agreement, feeing him place his hand on the small of your back, wet shirt reeking of beer as he leads you inside. The cool air soaking your hot skin feels heavenly, you take in a breath of fresh air as William shuts the door behind you, separating the two of you from the chaos outside.

He keeps a tight hold on your bicep as you trip through his kitchen, reaching to take the Corona bottle out of your hand and making you whine when you try to chase after it, only being able to go so far with the restraint of his grip.

“Ah, ah,” William takes it out of your reach. “You need to stop drinking, dear,”

You only huff, crossing your arms defensively over your shivering body as tears never stop. William continues to guide you through the house, leaving the beer somewhere on the kitchen counter.

“Let’s get you into the shower, alright bunny? That’ll sober you up.”

You pout. You don’t want to be sober, but you know it’ll make you feel better.

“‘Kay…” you mumble, reluctantly.

You and Michael have been friends for a few years now outside of these parties. If you asked Michael, he’d probably consider you one of his best friends. So, you’d never admit this to Michael, but his dad is hot.

It’s one of the only things you can think about as he leads you through the house, and into the guest room as your head buzzes with toxicity. Once you’re in the bathroom, William shuts the door behind you two and reaches into the shower to turn on the water. In the absence of noise, your tears already begin to slow.

“Here, tell me if this is alright.”

He takes your hand and runs it under the water, letting you feel it on your skin as it sends chills down your spine. You know he asked you a question, but all you can think about is how tiny your hand looks held inside his own. You zone out on the image, you’re like… half the size of him! The length of his fingers tower over yours, and the width of his index is probably double yours. Your mind begins to wander, thinking about what other parts of your body would look as tiny as your hands do in his grasp, or how it would feel to—

“Darling?”

You blink, accidentally echoing a loud and clueless, “what?”

To which William can’t help but stifle a chuckle as he decides that your silence is a good sign, stepping back to sit on the closed lid of the toilet.

“Come here,” he murmurs, pulling you toward him by your waist so that you’re standing in between his man-spread knees. “Let’s get you out of these clothes, shall we?”

You nod, blinking a few more nameless tears from your eyes as you stare into his, or try to, since you’re too dizzy.

William starts with your shorts. He reaches underneath the hem of your large t-shirt, keeping eye contact with you while he pops the button and unzips them, taking note of how disheveled you look. Your eyelashes are clumped together with tears and your face is splotchy… he finds it rather cute, how you look so vulnerable, so fragile and innocent as he undresses you with his own corrupt hands…

Your shorts pool around your ankles. You place a hand on one of his broad shoulders for balance as you kick them off of your feet, letting them discard somewhere else on the tile floor for William to pick up later.

Next, he reaches for the hem of your shirt. Something William notes as he’s pulling off your shirt is that as stressed as your complexion makes you out to be, your eyes look at him with complete and utter trust. You lift your arms when he pulls off your soaked t-shirt, exposing your breasts to him and making something inside of him snap. If you could see straight, you might be able to see the way William’s jaw clenches when he comes eye-to-eye with your soft nipples.

Steam from the running shower fills the room as William’s hands ghost up your sides, raising goosebumps on the back of your neck. He caresses the smooth skin of your chest as the last few of your tears fall, and while he watches his lanky fingers trace your skin, he can’t help but wonder if this is your first time. You’re a young and naive little thing, who knows if you’ve ever been undressed before somebody else, or if you’ve ever been touched, even fucked before. He thinks about it while grazing a thumb lightly over one of your nipples, pulling the air from your lungs as you suddenly tighten your palms on his shoulders, and he comes to the conclusion that nobody could ever fuck you as good as him… if given the chance, of course.

He finds quick interest in your breasts, your big puppy eyes watching carefully as he grazes the calloused pads of his thumbs over your hardening buds, watching as each one raises to a peak under his manipulation. It’s a miracle that he had decided to hold your shirt on his lap, especially now that his pants are growing so tight. Soon, you begin to pant. Hot breaths passing through barely parted lips mix with the shower fog as you let William play with you. You’ve never felt this way before, you feel alive, buzzing with electricity like a race car revving its engine before it sets off. With every knead and trace of your breasts in his rough, tainted hands, you feel lightning in your blood, spiking a libido in your veins and making your pussy soak your panties; the last layer you have on. You have no choice but to squeeze your thighs together in front of him. Both of you get lost in the moment.

A sudden stumble from you breaks William from his trance and he remembers the sound of running water, the heat in his hands, and when he looks up to your glossy eyes he can remember that you’re drunk… he takes his hands off of you so fast that you’d think he’s hurt himself after realizing that this is wrong, that you’re half his age and he shouldn’t be doing this. His head bows, ashamed.

“Alright,” he clears his throat, swiftly reaching up again to pull down your underwear and helping you step out of it. “Go shower, I’ll get you some clean clothes to wear and set them on the bed for you.”

He gathers your dirty clothes and leaves without another word. Dumbfounded, you drag yourself into the shower and let the hot water cleanse your skin, washing the alcohol from your bloodstream.

You’re certain that you’re sober by the time you leave the bathroom, peaking around the corner to make sure you’re in private before entering the bedroom and finding a folded t-shirt and your cleaned panties, cheeks warming at the memory of William as you slip them on.

Is it wrong for you to wish he was still touching you?

Or is it worse to want more?

Almost on cue, a few soft knocks tap on the door. The hinge creaks as it’s pushed open to reveal William, poking his head in to check on you.

“Are you feeling any better?” He asks, voice laced with faux sympathy.

You shrug, “a little,”

He steps closer, closing the door behind him.

He raises his eyebrows. “Are you lying to me?”

Your face heats once more, and you keep your eyes fixated on your lap, playing with thumbs to avoid eye contact with him.

“Maybe…” you mumble bashfully, pulling your knees to your chest.

He sits down at the edge of the guest bed, shaking his head with disappointment.

“It’s a shame, really,” he clicks his tongue. “You’re too pretty to be crying.”

You let out a humorous exhale through your nose, his charm never fails.

As the conversation grows quiet, only the loud party music from the pool area thumping through the house keeps the room from falling silent.

The thought of William still plagues your mind. The curiosity of what it might be like to feel his salt and pepper scruff on your skin, or his calloused fingers skillfully tweaking your taut nipples again… your core aches at the thought, and out of the corner of your eye, you swear you can see his gaze linger at the thin cotton of your panties peeking out from between your thighs.

Maybe it’s the boost of confidence from the alcohol still swirling in your gut, but you wonder what would happen if—

“Come on, now,” he chuckles darkly, “don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re about to start something you can’t finish.”

The words hang heavy between the two of you. He can see the mischief flash in your eyes, lips curling slightly at his words.

You turn over onto your knees, hesitating for barely a second before you move, crawling slowly towards him until you can feel his breath on your skin.

Your lips stay parted, absentmindedly, too busy thinking about the fine line you’re treading. You want him so bad you’re surprised you’re not drooling, yet.

You glance up to his stormy eyes just once, to see if he really does want this as bad as you do.

Then, he closes the gap.

You sigh into the kiss almost immediately, melting in his grip as a warm hand comes up to cup your jaw, fingers curling around the base of your skull to pull you in closer, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You hook your knee over his leg, and he stabilizes you, bringing his free hand up to the curve of your waist.

Your senses overflow with him. The lingering taste of whiskey on his tongue, the smell of his cologne, mixed with the musk of his sweat from the humid summer night… You can feel your heart pounding inside your chest, threatening to jump out. You can feel the adrenaline in your veins. You need him like a drug.

The heat between your thighs continues to grow, and soon William finds you squirming aimlessly in his lap, searching for some sort of relief. Then, he tenses the muscle below you, eliciting a surprised hum from you. You can feel the smile grow on his mouth.

He’d be lying if he said that he’s not entertained by how desperate you are, still having the eager libido of a twenty-something year old. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so needy. It’s cute.

It’s even cuter when you start rocking your hips back and forth on his thigh, letting out barely-audible moans with every drag, selfishly using his leg for your own pleasure. You can feel your pussy leaking onto the thin fabric of your panties, head filling with cotton.

Soon, the heat blooms, and you get lost in the moment. You pick up the pace, eagerly grinding your cunt against his thigh with no shame, moving faster and faster, kissing him deeper until you’re practically sucking the air out of his lungs…

William grunts in protest, planting two firm hands on your hips and halting your movements. You struggle against his grip for a moment before letting out a defeated whimper.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” he says, voice low.

“But it hurts,” you whine. “Please, help me…”

He watches your eyes gloss over again as you begin to beg, and a pitiful laugh slips through his lips. There’s no way you need it so bad that you’re about to cry because you can’t have it. You’re unreal.

“Oh, you poor thing…” he pouts with faux sympathy as your bottom lip juts out. “Don’t worry, I’m going to make you feel so good.”

His promises only make you ache more as he uses his tight hold on your hips to gingerly lay you down against the pillows of the guest bed. He settles between your legs, hooking two fingers into the lace lining of your panties and looking up to study your expression for any protest before pulling them down and discarding them. A string of drool connects them to your core as he does.

He nudges your knees apart to admire your sorry, swollen cunt as it weeps all over the bedsheets.

“Look at that,” he clicks his tongue, cocking his head to one side. “Your poor pussy’s so desperate it’s just clenching around nothing. It needs this, huh?”

Now exposed and humiliated beneath him, you finally begin feeling some shame and instinctively raise your hands to cover your flushed face, hiding from him.

But William isn’t having any of that.

“Come on, pretty girl, let me see you.” He hums, reaching for your wrists.

At the same time, he takes two fingers from free hand and slides the through your folds, just collecting your slick on his fingers before circling them around your hole, and finally sinking inside.

Your hands fall down as you keen with pleasure, and he can’t help but chuckle to himself.

“There she is,”

He swirls his fingers around inside of you, letting them swim in your soaked pussy. When he finally curls them forward, you gasp. William raises his eyebrows, your reaction having piqued his interest.

“Yeah?” He hums, “that feel good?”

Your face twists in pleasure as he rubs his fingertips back and forth on the newly discovered spot inside you, and your head nods back against the pillow.

“Mm-hmm,”

He can’t hide the proud smirk on his face as he watches you squirm around on the sheets beneath him, toes curling and thighs beginning to shiver around his wrist when he lifts his thumb up to press on your clit.

“Oh, God!” You moan.

He begins kneading it in steady circles while his middle and ring fingers continuing their beckoning motion inside your warm walls. Your jaw hangs slack, soft gasps and mewls falling from your mouth, egging him on to push you closer and closer to your orgasm.

There’s something so gross, disgusting and downright dirty for you to be fucking your friend’s dad, someone twice your age. But yet you’ve never felt better in your life.

Every swipe of his thumb draws a new sound from you.

“Ah, ah, ah!”

His cock strains against his pants.

When your moans suddenly take a turn into whines, William knows you’re close. Your back arches, and a fire burns deep inside of your core that pulls your head underwater. Your swollen cunt is practically swallowing his fingers at this point, and he has every intention to keep going.

“Oh—! P-Please don’t stop,” you gasp, “please, please—!”

He shakes his head. He wouldn’t dare. Having you all spread out like this, just for him, is all he’s ever dreamed of.

The fire in your stomach grows, tightening the all-too-familiar coil that pulls you right to the edge. You get louder, almost like you want the party to hear you, hear how good he’s making you feel.

Maybe you do.

“You’re close, aren’t you?”

“Yes—!” You mewl, tears welling in the corner of your eyes again.

A fire lights behind his eyes, and you can see it for a split second before you arch your back, crying out with pleasure.

He can feel your tight walls spasming around him, he can see your abs tighten as the coil threatens to snap.

You cum around his fingers.

“Atta girl,” he coaxes, watching your orgasm wrack your frame.

Electric sparks shoot from your core, sending shockwaves through every inch of your body.

His cock twitches in his pants as he watches a single tear rolls down your cheek as silent cries escape your mouth, he continues working that soft spot inside you until you sigh, finally coming down from your high.

He pulls his fingers from you, dripping with your heat, then raises them

You watch with glassy eyes, head still fuzzy from your orgasm.

His lips curl as he looks down at you, flushed, hair messy, shirt rolled up, and pussy soaking the sheets below you. Satisfied with his work, he leans down to seal it with a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“Get some rest,” he tells you before rising to his feet.

Suddenly dumbfounded, you prop yourself up on your elbows. You don’t want this to end.

“Aren’t you going to fuck me?” You ask, confused.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart.”

“B-But you—“

“Don’t worry about me.” He interrupts, “just get some rest.”

You watch him flick off the light switch as he leaves, and you lay back down on the fluffy pillows of his guest bedroom.

Music still leaks in from the party outside.

What have you gotten yourself into?

The emergency department was unusually quiet, the kind of quiet that made every sound feel louder than it should. Monitors still beep steadily, nurses still move with purpose, but the chaos had softened into something almost… breathable.

You’re off in South 15 with a patient who had come in complaining of some unusual dizziness, and a slight fever of 100.3°. You lean over the patient’s arm, tying off the tourniquet with practiced ease.

“Okay…” you whisper, voice calm and steady as you line up the butterfly needle, “a little pinch,”

Blood labs are a routine procedure in the emergency department. Predictable, safe, and within seconds, dark red is filling the vial.

Once you have two tubes filled up, you remove the needle and patch up the patient’s arm with some gauze and tape. You label the sample, double-checking the name and date like you always do, before looking up to your patient again with a friendly grin.

“I’ll run this upstairs,” you inform him with a nod, “we should have the results within the hour. If you need anything before then, just call for me.”

“Sure thing, doc.”

With that, you leave the room, tapping the vial lightly against your palm as you make your way to the elevator. The hallway lights buzz faintly as you walk, sneakers squeaking against linoleum floors.

The elevator ride to the lab is short and uneventful, as per usual. You hand off the sample, exchange a few words, and turn back toward the emergency department.

You hum softly to yourself on the elevator ride back down, watching the numbers go down while you think about little things. What you’re going to have for dinner tonight, what might happen in the next episode of that new show you’re watching. It’s quiet today, you had the time to think about domestic things like that, for once.

Soon enough, the elevator dings and the steel doors open. You step out and begin to make your way back to the hub to pick up your next case from Dana.

That’s when you see him.

Dr. Langdon stands at the far end of the corridor, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed. He looks like he always does: composed, a little tired, and entirely too aware of your presence.

He always has this look in his eye when he finds you, like a sly fox that’s just waiting for his prey to walk into his trap… and here you are.

You try to not let him notice your steps slow, try to not let your composure falter, but it’s too late. Once your eyes meet his and get caught in that mist of cerulean, you’re done for. His trap.

Suddenly you can’t avoid him anymore.

“Doctor Langdon,” you greet professionally.

He nods politely, “doctor,”

He pushes off the wall and closes the distance between you in a few strides, keeping his arm crossed in front of him.

You should have kept walking.

Instead, you don’t.

He lowers his voice. “You’ve been avoiding me,”

“I’ve been working,” you reply coyly, keeping your voice even.

But your pulse had already picked up, betraying you almost immediately once in his proximity.

“Have you?” He tests, cocking his head slightly.

You don’t respond. Not at first, anyways. Just watch his face for a moment with your wide doe eyes, and that’s all he needs.

He reaches for your biceps. Not rough, not forceful, but certain, and almost eager. He’s quick to pull you into the nearest exam room, muting the outside world the second that the door clicks shut.

Then, he’s on you.

Lips crash together almost instantly, like there was some magnetic force pulling you towards him. He tastes like spearmint and sin, a flavor you can never get tired of.

You melt into him.

When he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, you let out a soft moan against him, and he quickly ceases the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your hot mouth.

Tongues battle for dominance as your soft fingers reach up to cup his jaw, his anchored on your hips.

Then, you come back.

You’re at work, you’re married. This is wrong.

“This is a bad idea,” you pant between kisses.

“You always say that,” Langdon replies.

“And I’m always right.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, “you are.”

But neither of you let go.

How could you, when his strong hands are wrapping around the small of your back to pull you impossibly closer? When you can already feel his growing hard on beneath the rayon of his scrubs?

Then, he pushes into you again, closing the little space between you and the wall. He grinds against you once, twice just to let go of some of the pressure, yet still careful enough to not let you notice. But you do, of course you do, and your body, shaped like clay to please him, is already eager and begging for more.

He reaches for the tie of your scrubs, wasting no time pulling them lose and slipping a hand down into them, cupping your pussy with his palm and letting his calloused fingertips dance along the wet spot that’s already soaking through your panties. He hums with satisfaction.

“I bet you don’t get this wet for your husband, do you?” He growls lowly.

When you don’t respond, he leans in closer, lips ghosting over yours.

“Hmm?” He hums, and you can feel his hot breath on your skin.

You bite down on your lip to stifle another whimper as your heart throbs in your chest. His fingers continue their gentle, precise movements over clothed clit, giving you just enough to rile you up even more, and not nearly enough at the same time. A shiver racks through your core.

“Yeah, I know he doesn’t touch you like this,” he continues, “because it’s only been a few seconds and you’re already shaking.”

Your head lulls back at his words, pussy aching for his touch.

“Please,” you whisper, helplessly.

He looks up at you, “what was that?”

“Please…” you repeat, face flushing a deep crimson. “Please touch me.”

He hums approvingly, dipping his head down to place tender kisses to the exposed skin of your neck as he pushes your underwear to the side and plunges two thick fingers inside of you.

Your jaw falls slack with a sharp gasp, hand reaching up to grab his bicep, fingernails digging into the material of his shirt as you adjust to the stretch.

“That’s my girl…” he praises, a prideful smirk on his lips when he glances up to watch your face twist with pleasure.

Soft moans spill from your mouth as he works a gentle rhythm with his middle and index fingers, curling them carefully against that sensitive spot inside you before dragging them out and starting over again.

He keeps his steady pace until he has you dancing on your tiptoes, desperately trying to chase your release, but it’s just out of reach.

You’re a whining mess now, glassy eyes frenzied with lust as he keeps you teetering right on the edge of pleasure. He can play you like a piano, and you just make it so easy for him.

“Please,” you breathe, “please…”

“What now?” He sighs, mockingly, “you want me to fuck you?”

Your eyes shut tight when a spike of pleasure shoots through your core at his words, clenching your jaw to keep your composure.

“Mm-hmm,” you nod.

But he shakes his head. “No, let me hear you say it.”

You swallow your pride.

“Please fuck me,” you beg.

He has to bite his own lip to distract him from the aching in his trousers now, eyes looking you up and down, studying your writhing figure before he pulls his hand from your pants, dripping with your desperation.

“Alright,” he starts, voice low, “how about you bend over on the bed for me?”

You nod in response, eyebrows knit with pleasure. Langdon takes a step back from you, giving you the space to walk past him and position yourself on the hospital bed. He follows behind.

You arch your back, folding your arms on the mattress to cushion your head when you place it down. You glance over your shoulder, watching him, eyes blown wide with lust.

In one swift motion, he pulls your scrubs and panties down around your thighs, using his spare hand to push your top up further, just to get a look at that beautiful curve of your spine, and those two dimples above your ass that he loves so much.

Then, he reaches down to push his own pants down, letting them pool around his ankles. With his hand still coated in your wetness, he takes a moment to pump himself a couple times, lubing himself up real good before nudging the swollen tip against your cunt.

He’s slow with it at first, teasing like he always does. His cock plants a few kisses to your tight hole, enjoying taking his time with you before you grow desperate enough to try to push back on him, ever so slightly.

He tuts, “so eager…”

He slips it in, trying not to let his eyes roll back at the way you’re squeezing him so perfectly. He swallows back a low growl as you begin struggling underneath him.

“F-Fuck,” you gasp. “Frank—!”

“Shhh,” he soothes, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin of your ass.

A broad hand slides up your spine to push you back down to the mattress, and you let him mould you like putty.

He tries to hold back from his indulgences, tries to be slow with you and take you apart piece by piece, but he starts to lose himself, too. In seconds, his hips are snapping mercilessly against yours. Your fingers claw at the sheets of the perfectly made bed below you.

You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, burying your head in the mattress to try to stifle your moans, but he can still hear them.

He doesn’t mind it, though. If it were up to him, he’d let you scream his name at the top of your lungs.

Hell, why would God give him ears if not to listen to you cry out for him?

With every withdrawal of his cock, your pussy is already sucking him back in. His tip kisses against your cervix with every thrust, and before long, your legs are starting to shake beneath you.

That’s when you hear it.

Footsteps in the hallway, voices on the other side of the door.

“Do we have the labs back for South 15 yet?”

Langdon’s thrusts slow, but they never stop. Instead, he just leans down over you and wraps his palm around your mouth, keeping it shut tight.

Your pussy tightens around him.

“Yeah, you like that?” He whispers in your ear. “You like getting fucked with people right outside the door, huh? What if someone walks in?”

You bow your head into your arms, stifling another lewd whine. As you shake in his grip.

“…or do you want them to?”

His words make your core burn. You can already feel the ever so familiar burn begins to twist inside of you. Completely blissed out in his grasp, you can’t do anything but sigh helplessly.

The doctors outside continue their conversation, “well, let me know if you see her.”

With that, the footsteps recede, and you can finally let out a relieved sigh. Your relaxation only lasts for a moment though, as Langdon wastes no time picking up the pace of his thrusts again.

Your eyes are rolling back, and it isn’t long until the heat coiling in your stomach starts sending lightning bolts through your body. Your muffled cries slip up a pitch higher, and he knows exactly what you need.

“O-Oh god— ’m close—“

He doesn’t even need you to say it, he can tell by the way you’re clamped down around him, milking the life from his cock.

“I know, baby,” he grunts, “I know…”

His words make you whimper as you begin to shake with anticipation. Your orgasm looms over you, seconds away.

“C’mon, just let go for me…”

Then, as if on command, your body crests over. Pleasure shoots to every corner of your body and Langdon can’t help but watch with awe as you twitch with the crashing waves of your orgasm, feeling your tight cunt spasm around him.

Suddenly, his hips stutter, foot planting down against the floor as he chases his own release, delivering each thrust now with a deep growl, gradually getting louder the closer he gets, practically using your swollen and spent body. In one quick motion, he pulls out, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing as he spills out over your back.

He jaw clenches tight as he swallows his own moans, head reeling.

With a few final strokes of his cock, he begins to relax as he starts to come down from his high. Both of you share deep pants as you catch your breath, muscles aching as you go still for a moment to take in the quiet afterglow.

Then, you’re back to reality.

You’re at work. In a dark room that is filled thick with the heat from your affair.

Your legs shake beneath you as Langdon wipes you down with a paper towel.

You stand, pulling up your pants and smoothing over your scrubs with your hands, carefully avoiding eye contact. You don’t know what will happen if you gall into that trap again.

This is always the worst part, when the guilt sets in and there’s nothing left to say.

The exam room is too small for the weight of everything you’re not saying.

“We can’t keep doing this.”

Langdon nods, but there’s no conviction in it. “I know.”

“You’re divorced, you get to walk away from things.” You sigh, “I don’t.”

“That’s not fair,” he replies, though gently. “You think any of this is easy for me?”

You don’t answer.

The words land heavier than anything else.

Neither of you say anything for a second.

“I should go.”

He looks away, biting back words he knows he cannot say.

“Yeah.” He murmurs.

Silence, again. Thicker this time.

The only sound is the quiet ticking of the wall clock, the sound of time passing.

With that, you turn on your heels, and head for the door.

The noise of the emergency department rushes back in. Voices, footsteps, the steady rhythm of buzzing machines.

You step out without looking back. Just like that, everything returns to routine.

You’re quick to push the quiet moment with Langdon to a dark corner in the back of your mind and focus on the tasks at hand.

You head back to the hub, checking the board for any updates or new cases to pick up.

Dana glances your way.

“We’ve been looking for you,” she notes.

“I just ran to the bathroom,” you smile surely, shrugging it off

The entrance doors slide open, and a familiar figure fades into the corner of your view. When you turn to look, your heart drops.

“H-Hi, honey!” You stammer.

Your husband walks in, holding up a takeout bag in his hand as he approaches you.

“Thought I’d bring you some lunch,” he explains.

Across the hub, Landon watches the board, trying not to let his gaze shift down to you but he can’t help it.

His arms cross in front of his chest as your husband lean in to place a kiss on your cheek. He watches your smile twitch with shame.

The sight makes his lips press into a thin line, jaw tight with envy.

It’s okay, though.

They never last long anyways.

“perfect.” click.

“great job, princess.” click.

“atta girl.” click.

you were confused by the sound at first, you can’t lie. you thought maybe it was in your head, or one of the animatronics ticking at coincidentally the same time. you don’t know.

what you do know, is that you’ve been associating this strange clicking sound with each one of his quaint praises. he has you wrapped around his finger. his dumb little girl.

soon, after your relationship kicks off, you can hear it at more convenient times.

when you’re wrapping your soft lips around his tip under his desk, and you do this thing where you suckle on it for a moment before taking it deeper, click!

or when he takes you by the hair and pulls you down to where your nose rubs the stubble on his pelvis and you’re gagging, click!

or — most importantly — when his fingers are playing with your weeping pussy and your back starts to arch, plush thighs shaking around his wrist (or his head), and your moans start getting higher, and higher…

“ahh— will, I-I’m close, please—!”

click!

and with each new twitch and spasm of your body as the coil in your core grows tighter, and tighter, you hear it. click, click click click!

until you’re finally pushed over the edge.

william will never admit it to you, but training you has proven to be extremely helpful.

especially in situations where he’s had a long week running the restaurant, and all he wants to do on a friday night is make his baby feel so good that she can’t take it anymore, drawing orgasm and orgasm from you nonstop, any way he can, until beads of sweat roll down your temples as you flail underneath him, overstimulated.

“come on, just one more.” he’s encourages in whispers to you, “i know you can do it.”

you cry, “I can’t!”

you’re so, so close again, but your body won’t give in. teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure, you grind down against him, chasing your own teasing release.

“yes, you can,” he urges.

click!

your whole body twitches at the sound.

click, click, click!

slow, daunting, until you finally crest over, juices spurting all over him with a loud sob.

you can feel how needy he is through the thin layer of his boxers as he uses his strong arms to grind you back and forth over his lap. what had started as small, tedious movements had quickly turned into borderline aggression as he drags you brutally over his cock, but no matter how fast or how hard he pulls you back and forth, it’s not enough.

and when he’s gingerly kissing down your collarbones and you’re sighing, eyes fluttered shut with pleasure, the words can’t help but slip out.

“can you eat me out, ani?” you breathe, “please…”

he pulls away, eyes blown wide as he nods eagerly. “yes.”

carefully, he flips you over onto your mattress, lying you down, moving slowly, as if you were so fragile you’d shatter if he didn’t.

then, as he scootches down between your thighs… he pauses. as badly as he wants to make you feel so good that you can’t breathe, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

icy blue eyes gaze up at you.

“c-can you teach me how?” he whispers. “I want to make you feel good…”

propped up on your elbows, you nod, aching in your core spreading up to redden your cheeks. then, with careful confirmation, he hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties and pulls them down your thighs, over your knees and discarding them somewhere on the floor.

you reach down to grab his jaw, stroking his cheek carefully with your thumb before guiding him in to your core. his eyes flutter shut with focus, and you swear you can hear him moan at the taste of you.

eagerly, he dives in to your dripping hole, sucking up all of your fluids and prodding into you. but, as good as it feels, that’s not where you need him most.

“you’re gonna wanna go—higher—“ you guide his jaw up, and as soon as you feel his tongue curl over your sensitive bud, you feel sparks fly from your cunt, sending shivers up your spine. “there,”

you keep one hand rested carefully on the hinge of his jaw, the other carding through his hair.

“oh, fuck— right there, please—“ you moan out etween pants, and he just hums back affirmatively from between your folds.

then, with rapidly gaining confidence, he reaches down behind your knees and pushes your thighs apart, adjusting your position to give him better access.

“y-you can use your hand, too, if you want—“

keeping one hand on your leg, he slumps the other over his shoulder and sneaks two fingers beneath his chin, sinking them into your swollen cunt, plunging them in and out, stretching you open and just purely exploring you, curling them until—

“oh, right there, fuck— please don’t stop, please!”

you’re starting to shake, and anakin tries to conceal the smirk on his lips.