sluttapes

[sluttapes]

and for chris & matt’s birthday, i’ll rub birthday cake all over my tits and let them eat it off of me. thank you, and goodnight.

[sluttapes]

⌞ 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞⌝

christoper owen & matthew bernard sturniolo

ㆍ𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦ㆍ𝘸𝘢𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺ㆍ𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹ㆍ𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬ㆍ𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴ㆍ𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘦ㆍ

▸ tape length — 2.1k

the room was dim, the curtains drawn shut, the only light coming from the soft flicker of candles scattered around the bed.

your wrists weren’t tied—but they might as well have been, the way you lay there, limbs limp, breath shallow, completely at their mercy.

matt was on your left, kneeling beside you, his fingers ghosting up your side while his mouth pressed soft, reverent kisses along your ribs. he looked calm. focused. like he was studying every inch of you.

chris, on the other hand, stood at the foot of the bed, shirtless, a thick white candle burning steady in his palm. the flame crackled gently as he tilted it just the slightest bit—enough for a single drop of hot wax to spill from the wick and fall.

you jerked, gasping, the warmth blooming across your skin like fire and silk all at once.

“easy,” matt whispered, his lips still brushing your stomach. “doing so fucking good.”

chris grinned, his eyes dark and hungry. “she likes it. i knew she’d like it.”

you didn’t speak. couldn’t. your body was too lost in sensation—too tangled up in the way their energy wrapped around you like vines. matt kissed higher now, his mouth grazing between your breasts. his hand slipped under your thigh, steadying you as chris let another drop fall, this one landing right below your bellybutton. your spine arched.

“shit—” you breathed.

“yeah?” chris asked, his voice rough. “too much?”

you shook your head instantly. “no. don’t stop.”

matt chuckled softly, tracing a finger through the cooling wax. “you’re shaking,” he murmured, kissing just above it. “but i bet you’re fuckin soaked.”

“always gets like this when she knows we’re watching her,” chris added, stepping closer. “you like putting on a show, don’t you?”

you swallowed, your cheeks burning as the heat from the candle returned. this time, three little droplets in a row. one on your hipbone, one on your thigh, one right above your clit. you cried out, hands gripping the sheets beneath you.

matt moved lower, his mouth trailing after the wax. he kissed over the hardened drips, licked slow at the edges of the red designs melting into your skin. “fuck, sweetheart” he groaned. “you’re art.”

and you were. spread open between them. flushed and twitching.

chris climbed onto the bed, crawling over your legs until he hovered just above you. he leaned down, hand cupping your jaw. “can i?” he asked.

you nodded. he kissed you hard—slow at first, then deeper. matt’s mouth left your body, climbing up the bed to sit next to you, while chris devoured your lips like he owned them. the candle was gone now, set aside, forgotten, but the warmth hadn’t left. it was in the room. in your chest. in the way their bodies pressed into you like gravity.

when chris pulled back, his lips were slick with your spit, his eyes locked on yours. “you ready?”

you breathed out a soft, “yes.”

he smiled, then looked over his shoulder. “you wanna take her first, or should i?”

matt didn’t even look up at chris, just took his cock into one hand and started stroking it slowly, watching your eager body. “you’re already in position.”

chris kissed your throat once, then reached down, guiding himself to your entrance. “you good?”

“yeah,” you breathed.

he pushed in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you open, your fingers digging into matt’s bicep as the fullness hit you. you moaned, legs shaking as he bottomed out, head dropping to your shoulder with a guttural groan.

“fuuuck—you always feel so good.”

you were still catching your breath when matt shifted beside you, hand moving faster on himself. “look at her,” he murmured to chris, one hand brushing your cheek. “she’s already gone.”

“not yet,” chris muttered, starting to move, slow and deep. “but she will be.”

you were barely grounded, gasping with each thrust. but then matt straddled your chest, his cock ready and hard, resting against your lips. he didn’t say anything—just looked down at you, thumb stroking your bottom lip.

you opened your mouth without having to be asked.

he slid in, groaning softly as your lips closed around him. “juuust like that, baby.”

it was overwhelming. the stretch of chris inside you, the weight of matt on your tongue, the leftover sting of wax along your skin. your body was on fire. every sense lit up. every moan muffled as you were taken from both ends, no escape from how good it felt.

“shit—she’s suckin’ me in so hard,” chris groaned, thrusts picking up pace, more erratic now. “fuckin’ loves this.”

matt was no better, hands braced on either side of your face, hips rolling slow. “you’re such a fucking mess,” he murmured, his voice husky. “moaning around my cock like that...”

you whimpered, tears welling in your eyes—not from pain, not even from intensity, just the raw pleasure. the feeling of being completely devoured by both of them.

you didn’t last long.

chris hit that spot just right, the slick sound of him driving into you only making the pressure in your gut coil tighter. matt was groaning above you, jaw clenched, your name a low growl on his lips.

and then you shattered. your whole body went tight, muffled cries spilling around matt’s cock as your orgasm ripped through you, thighs shaking, nails clawing at the sheets. you barely noticed when matt pulled out of your mouth, brushing sweat-damp hair from your face while chris held your hips down, fucking you through every last twitch.

“that’s it,” matt breathed, kissing your temple. “just like that, sweetheart.”

you were still shaking when chris groaned low and deep, his pace faltering. “fuck—gonna cum—”

he pulled out and spilled onto your thigh with a broken sound, panting against your neck as slowly pulled away from you.

you could barely think.

barely breathe.

but then matt was there, gentle hands lifting your hips, shifting you enough to slide into the mess chris had left. you whimpered, too sensitive, but you didn’t stop him. you wanted it.

he kissed your back, lips soft and slow as he filled you again. “one more, baby,” he whispered. “give me one more. you can do that, right?”

you nodded weakly, letting him take you, letting him use your already fucked out body like he knew you needed him to. he was gentler than chris—at first. but when your body started to respond again, clenching around him, arching into his thrusts, he lost the softness fast.

his hands found your wrists, pinning them above your head. “you’re so fucking perfect like this,” he muttered, pace brutal now. “such a pretty little mess.”

you moaned, voice raw, lips parted in silent pleasure as the second orgasm built even faster than the first.

“cmon,” he whispered, voice tight. “cum for me again. show me how much you can take.”

you did. you broke again, legs shaking, mouth open in a silent scream as you gushed around him, your whole body trembling. matt came with a growl, hips jerking as he spilled inside you, head dropping against your shoulder, breathing hard.

the room was still for a moment. silent, except for the soft crackle of wax and the faint rise and fall of breath.

chris leaned over, brushing your hair from your damp forehead. “you okay?”

you smiled weakly. “yeah.”

matt kissed your shoulder. “you were sooo good, sweetheart.”

they didn’t leave your side. not when you were trying to catch your breath. not when the aftershocks made you twitch. not when the tears—slow, quiet, but not from pain—started to fall.

they just held you. warm skin against yours, tangled limbs and gentle kisses and soft praise. you were their canvas. and you’d never felt more seen.

more alive.

🎞️ — @tits4matt @loser41ifee @sweetshuga @nickysturnss @courta13 @sophsturns @starsforu @h3arts4nat @emely9274 @chestersturn @watercolorskyy @httpssturns @cherryystemm @adoremattsturns @jaybirdie34 @sturnspecial @secretaccountx5 @ivysturnss @fmalewokk @zenithsturniolo @iloveduckssm @facetimemethatpussy3 @iloveduckssm @mattsturnioloswife01

[sluttapes]

you’re so creative and i lovee your works

tysmmm. <3

[sluttapes]

⌞ 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ⌝

matthew bernard sturniolo

ㆍ𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘹ㆍ𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘮ㆍ𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦ㆍ𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘹ㆍㆍ𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺ㆍ

▸ tape length — 721

you’re panting, again. faster than you have in a while. hips slamming down on matt like it’s your last goddamn chance to forget everything outside this room. the night is humid, window cracked open but the air’s not moving. you’re both sweating, sheets kicked somewhere onto the floor, mattress groaning with every motion. matt’s hands are on your hips, tight. tight like he’s bracing himself, or trying to keep you there. but he’s not trying to stop your unusually brutal pace. not anymore.

he’s let you use him like this before. over and over. for weeks now, it’s been like this. but lately, it’s been only this.

you grind down hard, head thrown back, mouth parted, and the only sounds in the room are your breathy moans and the wet slap of skin meeting skin. no talking. no teasing. not anymore. you don’t want any of that. you don’t want to hear your name from his mouth, soft and gentle like it means something.

you just want it gone. everything. the pressure. the thoughts. the ache behind your ribs from the struggles of life that won’t go away. so you ride him faster. rougher. like maybe if you move hard enough, fast enough, you’ll shut the voices up. the worry, the worthlessness, the fucking noise.

but it’s not working.

matt’s beneath you, panting hard, brow furrowed like he’s trying to figure out if this is really happening the way it feels. he twitches inside you and it should make you moan, should make you close your eyes and lose it, but instead—instead, your pace falters.

your body stutters. legs shaking, not from pleasure this time, but from the sob that’s trying to push its way up your throat. you squeeze your eyes shut like that’ll stop it.

but it doesn’t.

a tear slips out. then another. you go still. still as a statue, sitting on top of him with your hands braced on his chest, your own chest heaving. your walls flutter around him — the aftershocks of what could’ve been pleasure. matt leans up slightly, one hand leaving your hip to press against your spine, holding you steady. you don’t look at him. can’t.

“hey,” he says, voice quiet, breathless. “what’s going on?”

you shake your head. wipe your face with the back of your hand and sniff, trying to pull yourself together.

“i’m fine,” you mutter, but your voice cracks halfway through.

his other hand moves from your hip to your jaw. tilts your face down gently, not forcing — just coaxing. your eyes meet his and it makes it worse.

because he’s not mad. he’s not smirking or smug or saying “i told you something was wrong.”

he just looks at you like you’re fragile. like he wants to fix something he doesn’t know how to.

“you’re not fine,” he says softly. “you don’t do this when you’re fine.”

you want to shove his hands away, get off him, go curl up somewhere alone. but you don’t move. you stay there, half-naked, still straddling him, tears slipping silently down your cheeks, throat burning.

“just…” you whisper, voice shaking. “i wanted to feel something else. that’s all.”

his eyes flicker, and you feel his chest rise slowly beneath you.

“you are feeling something else,” he says. “you just didn’t expect it to be this.”

you laugh, bitter and small. “yeah. surprise.”

he brushes your hair back from your face, fingers delicate in a way you didn’t ask for but can’t bring yourself to pull away from.

“why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

you sniff again. wipe your nose with the back of your hand.

“because it’s easier to fuck you than talk.”

you expect him to laugh. or roll his eyes. or say something sarcastic like he used to.

but he doesn’t.

he just pulls you in. leans up and wraps his arms around you, your chest against his, your chin hooked over his shoulder, and he’s still inside you. warm. solid. real. and it’s the quietest your mind’s been in days. you don’t say thank you. you don’t need to. he gets it. he’s always gotten it. even when you pretend he doesn’t.

you close your eyes, let the tears fall freely this time. let yourself breathe, finally. and for once, you’re not running. you’re just… held.

🎞️ — @tits4matt @loser41ifee @sweetshuga @nickysturnss @courta13 @sophsturns @starsforu @h3arts4nat @emely9274 @chestersturn @watercolorskyy @httpssturns @cherryystemm @adoremattsturns @jaybirdie34 @sturnspecial @secretaccountx5 @ivysturnss @fmalewokk @zenithsturniolo @iloveduckssm @facetimemethatpussy3 @iloveduckssm @mattsturnioloswife01

[sluttapes]

I’m gonna need a part two to tape six pleaseeee

oh dear 🥹 ima try and work on one, no promises tho. :(

[sluttapes]

⌞ 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 ⌝

christoper owen & matthew bernard sturniolo

ㆍ𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘪-𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘦𝘹ㆍ𝘷𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘮ㆍ𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬ㆍ𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯ㆍ𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴ㆍ𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺ㆍ𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴ㆍ

▸ tape length — 2.7k

you’re in the backseat with chris. the sun’s gone down, but the heat of the day still clings to your skin, sticky and warm from the beach. your thighs are bare beneath your skirt, and you’re sitting on your boyfriend’s lap, hands fighting to keep your body up against the back of the drivers seat, like it’s nothing. like it’s casual. like you’re not full of him right now.

the car is full. matt’s driving. the rest of your guys’s friends packed into the front and middle rows. laughter bouncing around the space. the music’s loud. everyone’s talking over each other, drunk on ocean air and cold drinks. but you’re barely there — barely breathing. every time the car hits a bump, your body jolts, just a little, just enough. just enough to make chris shift under you, his cock buried so deep inside you it’s maddening. his hands are on your hips under your skirt, holding you down like he knows you’ll fall apart if you move even an inch more. you bite your lip hard. try not to make a sound. try not to let the whimper rising up your throat escape.

you can feel his breath against your neck, the way he’s laughing softly every time you tense up. so amused. so fucking pleased. his lips graze the shell of your ear, voice a whisper, “you’re doing so good, baby. so fuckin’ good for me.”

you try to act like nothing’s happening. like your heart isn’t hammering in your chest. like you’re not completely at his mercy, stuffed full and trembling with every subtle shift of the road. and then — your eyes lift. the rearview mirror.

matt.

his gaze is already on you, and your breath catches. he’s not watching the road. he’s watching you. watching your fucked out face, the way your brows pinch together, lips parted, teeth sinking into the soft swell of your bottom lip. and he’s not looking away. but there’s no shock. no disgust. nothing even close.

just that smirk.

the same damn one chris is wearing against your neck.

matt licks his lips slowly, adjusts his grip on the steering wheel, shifts in his seat like he’s the one losing composure, like this is getting to him too. and it is. you can see it.

he wants to be the one under you. wants to be the one making your eyes roll back, the one pressing bruises into your hips, the one feeling your pussy clench around his dick while you fall apart.

and then it hits — another bump.

just enough friction. just enough pressure. your muscles tighten around chris, and your head falls back against his shoulder, body shaking slightly as you come, silently, desperately, right there in the backseat. your hands clench into the fabric of the seat. chris lets out a low groan, muffled in your hair. but all you can focus on — are matt’s eyes.

still locked on you.

still burning. still wanting.

✰ ✰ ✰

the house is quiet now. all the voices are gone, the front door long shut, and your legs are still trembling. chris is upstairs in the shower. the water’s been running for minutes no — too hot, too loud. you can hear the hum of it echoing down the hall. matt’s downstairs with you.

the tension sits heavy between you, thick and unspoken, like smoke in the air, curling under your skin. he hasn’t said a word since the others left. just leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching you with that same look you caught in the mirror. and you shouldn’t be here. not alone with him. not with your heart still racing from earlier, not with your thighs sticky, your body still sore from chris. but you didn’t go upstairs. you stayed. because maybe you wanted this.

maybe he did, too.

you’re standing near the sink, hands gripping the edge like it’ll keep you steady. but it doesn’t. nothing does. not with the way matt keeps looking at you. like he knows everything. like he felt it.

“so.” his voice cuts through the silence, low and smooth. “you like showing off, huh?”

your stomach drops. you don’t answer, you can’t.

his footsteps are slow when he moves toward you. careful. measured. like he’s hunting something fragile. like he doesn’t want to break it yet.

“sitting in his lap like that…” he chuckles under his breath, tongue wetting his lips again. “lookin’ into the fuckin’ mirror like that while i drove. thinking i wouldn’t notice?”

your throat dries out.

“matt—”

“nah,” he says sharply, cutting you off, stepping closer until your back hits the counter and he’s right in front of you. “you wanted me to see, didn’t you?”

his fingers ghost over your thigh. just a brush. not enough. but it sends heat spiking through your spine.

“you were so quiet, sweetheart.” he murmurs. “trying to be so good. but your face gave it away. every single fucking bump in the road.”

your breath stutters. his hand slides up higher, under your skirt. your mouth opens — maybe to stop him, maybe to beg for more — but nothing comes out. just a shaky exhale.

“what’s wrong?” he mocks, voice darker now, huskier. “not so cocky without chris under you?”

you hate how much your body reacts to it. to him. to the way he corners you, how his palm presses into the counter beside your hip, how close his mouth is to yours now.

“he’s not here right now,” matt says, breath hot against your cheek. “you know that. i know that. we’ve got time.”

you shake your head, barely. he sees it, but he doesn’t move away.

his eyes drag across your face, searching, dark and dangerous. “you came while looking at me, hm?”

your lips part in shock. you try to deny it — try to shake your head again — but he laughs under his breath like he already knows the answer.

“you looked so pretty,” he whispers. “so fuckin’ desperate. squirming on his cock while i watched. and now you’re still here. soaked through. letting me talk to you like this.”

you whisper his name. a plea. maybe a warning. he brushes his nose against your jaw, lips not quite touching your skin, his voice barely there.

“say the word,” he breathes. “and i’ll stop. but if you don’t—i swear to god, i’ll fuck you so good you’ll forget who got you off in that backseat.”

a beat passes. your pulse pounds in your ears. upstairs, the water shuts off. you freeze, but matt doesn’t.

his hand stays beneath your skirt, fingers ghosting against your inner thigh. “don’t worry,” he says, voice low and calm, like he hasn’t cornered you in your own skin. “he won’t be down for a while.”

you open your mouth to say something — anything — but before you can speak, the water starts again. you exhale, but it’s shaky. unsure.

matt notices. “see?” he smirks. “plenty of time.”

your nerves spark again. you’re not thinking straight — not with the way his body’s brushing yours, not with his fingers dancing so close to where you still ache from earlier. he’s not even touching you properly and yet your knees feel weak. your chest’s too tight.

he leans in again. “you always act like i don’t get to you,” he murmurs against your neck, teeth grazing the skin there. “but you’re melting right now. just like i knew you would.”

your pride wants to fight back. scream at him. push him off, but your body betrays you. your hips shift forward. your fingers curl around the edge of the counter. you hate the way your breath shakes, hate the way your skin burns under his hands. matt pulls back just a little, tilting his head, studying you.

“look at you, sweetheart.” he mutters, eyes flicking over your face. “always so mouthy. so smug. but now?”

he brushes his knuckles up the inside of your thigh, barely touching you. “now you can’t even look me in the eye.”

your mouth parts. something breaks inside you — some mask, some defense you always had around matt. he always got under your skin, but you never let him see it. not like this. never like this. and suddenly — a shift.

matt pulls back, just a few inches. you blink, and then you hear it.

a quiet step.

you turn around, and chris is standing in the doorway. not dripping. not wet. he’s dry, fully clothed. he’d never gotten in the shower in the first place. your stomach drops. his arms are crossed, shoulder leaned casually against the frame. his eyes are fixed on you. no emotion in them. just… heat. calculation. amusement.

your lips part in stunned silence. “chris—”

he doesn’t move. doesn’t speak. just watches you. watches how you freeze, how the realization hits, how every wall you built around yourself is suddenly crumbling. matt doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even seem surprised.

he leans down to your ear, lips barely grazing the skin. “told you we had time,” he whispers. “didn’t say he wouldn’t watch.”

you feel sick, and turned on, and so deeply out of control you can’t breathe. chris finally steps into the room. slow. calm.

“you always act so fuckin’ tough,” he says, voice like velvet over broken glass. “but look at you now.”

his gaze drops to where matt’s hand still rests on your thigh.

“told you she’d fold,” matt says to him, not even pretending anymore.

“yeah,” chris murmurs. “didn’t think she’d do it this fast though.”

you hate how true it is. hate how your thighs tremble. how your lips are parted, chest rising and falling way too fast. how their eyes devour you.

chris walks up, lifts your chin, forces your eyes on his. “you gonna let him finger you right here in the kitchen?” he asks, voice low, words sharp. “after i spent all day keeping you full, keeping you satisfied?”

you don’t answer, you can’t.

his thumb brushes your bottom lip. “maybe i should just watch.”

he says it like a threat. but the worst part?

you want him to.

you want both of them to keep going, and they know that now. matt’s hands slide higher again. and this time, you don’t stop him.

you don’t say a word. your lips stay parted. your body tenses, but you don’t move away, and that’s all the permission matt needs. his fingers slide beneath your underwear — slow, deliberate. two of them dip through your folds, and his breath catches when he feels how wet you still are.

“fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. “you’re dripping.”

chris is still next to you. standing close. watching everything. his arms are folded across his chest again, but his jaw flexes as matt eases a finger into you. you gasp — soft and sharp, head tipping back against the cabinet.

“don’t look at him,” matt says, voice rough near your ear. “look at me.”

you try. god, you try. but chris is still there, still burning into you, and your body is already shaking from the way matt curls his finger inside you with practiced precision. he knew what he was doing. they both did. you realize it then — the glances, the teasing, the way matt always pushed your buttons while chris sat back and let it happen. this wasn’t new.

it was a game.

one you didn’t even know you were playing.

“you should see her face,” matt says, low, smirking as he curls fingers. “that smug little attitude she always has? gone.”

chris finally speaks. “yeah?”

you hear his steps — slow, deliberate — and when you look up again, he’s closer now. watching over your shoulder as matt works you open with his fingers.

“her thighs are shaking,” matt murmurs, eyes locked on your face. “squeezin’ around me already.”

you hate the way your body reacts to the words. hate how right he is. you moan — too loud —and chris reaches out, grabs your jaw, turning your face toward him.

“keep it down,” he warns, eyes sharp. “you were so good at being quiet in the car. you can do it again.”

matt’s fingers pick up speed, slick sounds obscene in the quiet kitchen. his thumb brushes your clit and your whole body jerks, thighs pressing together. he leans into you, lips brushing your ear.

“you wanna cum already?” he asks, laughing darkly. “that easy, huh?”

you nod—helpless.

chris tilts your chin higher, more to the side. eyes narrowing. “what happened to that lil attitude now, huh?” he asks, low and cruel. “matt gets his fingers in you and you forget who you belong to?”

you whimper — because yes, you still belong to him. but matt’s fingers feel too good. too deep. and you’re getting there too fast.

“she’s so close,” matt mutters, voice low and tight. “can feel it.”

“let her.” chris says, letting go of your jaw, stepping back just enough to watch. “but she’s not gonna come until she looks at me.”

matt’s pace slows. dangerously slow. enough to edge you, to drive you mad. you try to chase the high, hips rocking, desperate.

“look at him,” matt breathes, fucking his fingers into you deeper. “go on. he said look.”

your head turns on instinct, eyes snapping to chris. he’s watching you. every single twitch of your face, every shaky breath leaving your lips. you meet his stare — and your orgasm hits you immediately. it crashes through you fast, sharp and messy, thighs clenching, back arching, a cry choking out of you before you can swallow it. matt keeps his fingers moving through your orgasm, dragging it out, dragging you out — until you’re a trembling mess on his fingers, clinging to the edge of the counter like it’ll hold you together.

chris steps closer, fingers brushing against your shoulder as he moves your hair out of the way, lips grazing your neck. “attagirl, there you go, baby.” he whispers.

and then his mouth is on your skin. hot, wet — while matt’s fingers keep going.

your breath stutters. your thighs are shaking, and finally, just as chris pulls back, matt’s fingers slip from your body, soaked. and for a second, no one speaks. no one moves. the only sound is the hum of the house and the wild pace of your breathing as you try to remember how to stand, how to think. his hand lingers against your skin — like he’s not ready to let go.

he pulls away from you, and your knees nearly buckle from the loss of pressure, the heat of his body gone. your hand catches the edge of the counter again, grounding you. barely. matt steps back without a word. he looks at you like he’s still inside you. like he could be again, if he wanted. the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, like he’s satisfied with the way he’s left you. ruined, wrung out, breathless.

and chris — chris just watches you.

quiet.

his jaw is tight. his hands flex at his sides like he’s deciding what to do next. his stare isn’t soft — it’s sharp, possessive. and under it, you shrink. not out of fear, but something else. something deeper. guilt. shame. need.

you can’t even meet his eyes.

he moves closer, slow and deliberate, until he’s right in front of you. his fingers brush your chin again, tilting your head up.

“you came on his fingers,” he says softly.

not a question, a statement.

you nod.

“and now you’re gonna sit with that,” he murmurs. “until i decide what to do with you.”

your breath catches. he leans in — not to kiss you, not to comfort — just to whisper against your lips, “this ain’t over, baby.”

and with that, he steps away. doesn’t touch you again. just turns toward the hallway. matt doesn’t follow, he just wipes his fingers off on the hem of his shirt, smirking under his breath. you stand there, pulse still racing, heart caught somewhere between guilt and want, legs still trembling from the way matt’s fingers wrecked you.

you came on matt’s fingers, and chris let you.

but, apparently, this wasn’t over.

🎞️ — @tits4matt @loser41ifee @sweetshuga @nickysturnss @courta13 @sophsturns @starsforu @h3arts4nat @emely9274 @chestersturn @watercolorskyy @httpssturns @cherryystemm @adoremattsturns @jaybirdie34 @sturnspecial @secretaccountx5 @ivysturnss @fmalewokk @zenithsturniolo @iloveduckssm @facetimemethatpussy3 @iloveduckssm @mattsturnioloswife01

[sluttapes]

⌞ 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐱⌝

christoper owen & matthew bernard sturniolo

𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦ㆍ𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵ㆍ𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴ㆍ𝘴𝘶𝘣!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳ㆍ𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹ㆍ𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦-𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 ㆍ𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴ㆍ𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘮𝘴ㆍ𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘱𝘪𝘦ㆍ

𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴

▸ tape length — 2.6k

the living room was dim, the kind of lazy, golden light that made everything feel softer than it was. some late-night show murmured in the background, forgotten, the only real sound the occasional click of chris’s lighter and the soft hum of your phone. you were curled into the couch between them—chris sprawled out to your left, his bare knees brushing yours, and matt to your right, leaning back with a can of soda in hand and that usual unreadable look on his face. it’d been quiet for a while, comfortable, familiar. nick was out somewhere, and the night had settled into the kind of calm where conversations twist in ways they’re not supposed to. you didn’t expect the edit on your fyp to be the thing that cracked it open. but there it was. an old video—one of those q&a’s where a fan had asked, “who would win in a threesome?”

you snorted, volume low, thumb pausing on the screen. “do you think there’d be a winner?” you asked it like a joke, letting the phone drop to your thigh.

matt shrugged, noncommittal. “i dunno. weird thing to wanna win.”

but chris? chris just grinned, eyes lighting up with that cocky spark he wore too damn well. “me. easy.”

matt looked over, brows lifting. “what?”

“you heard me,” chris said, stretching, the hem of his shirt lifting just enough to show toned stomach. “you’re too careful. you’d overthink it. i don’t think you know how to really make a woman feel good.”

you laughed, hand over your mouth, but matt straightened up, scoffing.

“what, you sayin’ i can’t make a woman cum or some shit?” he snapped, half-serious now, jaw tightening.

“i’m sayin’ i’d get there first,” chris replied, smirking. “and she’d remember me more.”

they started bickering, voices rising, throwing half-serious jabs, and you leaned your head back on the couch, groaning.

“not like y’all would ever even have a threesome. i’m sure that shit’s weird, no?”

silence. heavy and immediate. you blinked, glancing between them.

matt’s voice broke it, quiet but pointed. “you ever had a threesome?”

you went still. eyes shifted your way—first matt’s, then chris’s. you swallowed, suddenly too aware of the space between your legs, the way the air thickened.

“…no,” you answered, and you hated how soft it came out.

chris tilted his head, his smirk dropping into something slower. heavier. “you want to?”

your mouth parted. nothing came out. and you didn’t know how it escalated from there, not really. it was a blur. touches that lingered too long, glances that grew darker, bolder. and now—now you were perched on chris’s lap, his shirt gone, bare chest warm against your back, and matt was in front of you, kneeling on the floor, steady hands guiding your hips as he lowered you slowly onto his brother’s cock. your breath caught, lips parted, heart pounding so hard it ached.

chris groaned behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you steady. “fuck—shit—so tight,” he breathed into your shoulder.

matt looked up at you, brows drawn, fingers digging into your thighs as you sank deeper. “you okay?” his voice was quieter than before, a little hoarse, like he was trying not to lose it already.

you nodded, shaky, eyes locked on his. your hands found his shoulders, gripping tight.

“yeah,” you whispered. “just… fuck.”

“you sure?” matt asked again, but this time his thumbs smoothed circles into your skin.

you nodded again, this time with more certainty. and when chris rolled his hips up from below, and matt leaned in to kiss you—soft at first, then hungrier—you stopped thinking entirely. your whole body trembled, hands braced weakly against matt’s thighs, face buried there as your chest heaved in time with every slow, deep thrust chris gave you from beneath. he was relentless, cock buried so deep inside you it was like he wanted to live there, dragging whimpers out of you every time his hips snapped up into yours.

“you’re so sensitive, jesus, kid,” chris groaned against your back, voice rough and laced with disbelief. “when’s the last time you got laid?”

“chris.” matt’s tone was sharp, standing now, his hand curling gently at the back of your neck. protective.

but chris only groaned louder, your walls fluttering around him with no warning. “no, m’ serious. she’s fuckin’ clamping down on my dick like crazy—shit—”

you cried out a breath, shaky and broken, forehead pressing tighter against matt’s thigh as your body jolted with the force of chris’s sudden buck up into you. the stretch, the fullness, the heat—it was all too much. had been too much since it started.

“i thought you were messin’ round with that dude you were friends with?” matt asked, his voice gentler than his brother’s, but teasing all the same, eyes focused on the way you squirmed.

you barely managed a reply, voice thin, fucked-out. “o-only sucked him—off.”

chris scoffed behind you, hands digging into your hips. “he didn’t even fuck you or nothin’?”

“chris.” matt again, firmer this time, but it barely registered through the pounding in your head, the building pressure curling deep inside you.

“w-we were—fuck—we were pretty drunk,” you managed, breath hitching when chris angled his hips up again, hitting something that made your vision flash white.

“pretty irresponsible,” matt murmured, his voice dropping lower as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his sweats. he pulled them down slowly, his cock already half hard, his gaze never leaving your face.

“matt, you gonna keep fuckin’ lecturing her,” chris grunted through his teeth, thrusting into you harder now, “or you gonna fuck her mouth?”

matt let out a breath of a laugh, one hand brushing a thumb along your bottom lip as you looked up at him, pupils blown wide, drool shining at the corner of your mouth.

“m’ gettin’ there.”

and with that, he stepped forward, guiding his cock to your lips, tapping it lightly once—twice—against your tongue. you opened up for him like instinct, like need, moaning as he slid inside, slow and deep. now you were full in every sense of the word—chris fucking up into you from below, matt filling your throat with quiet groans above. you didn’t stand a chance. matt’s hand settled at the back of your head, fingers gentle but firm as he guided you down on his cock, inch by inch, until your lips were flushed against his skin. he let out a low hiss, thumb brushing soothingly along your cheek as you whimpered around him, tears already brimming in your lashes from how deep he was.

“that’s it,” he whispered, soft and full of praise. “doin’ so good for me, baby.”

behind you, chris was the complete opposite—rough hands gripping your hips like he owned them, holding you still just to drive up into you with bruising, punishing thrusts. the stretch burned, your whole body tensing with every slap of skin against skin, but you couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to. not with the way chris groaned every time you fluttered around him. not with the way matt was stroking your cheek so gently like you were fragile, even with his cock shoved down your throat.

“fuck, look at you,” chris grunted, breath hot against your shoulder. “droolin’ all over matt’s cock while i’m fuckin’ that pretty pussy.”

you whined around matt, choking slightly when chris bucked up harder, your throat constricting. matt’s other hand came up immediately, soothing over your jaw, easing you back just an inch so you could breathe.

“slow, chris,” he warned, voice still calm but firmer now. “she’s not a toy.”

“she’s takin’ it,” chris snapped, though his thrusts faltered for just a second. “pussy’s so wet, she’s fuckin’ beggin’ for it.”

he slapped your ass, hard, and you yelped around matt’s cock, choking slightly again. matt cupped your face, shushing you softly, easing you off him just enough so you could breathe again. “you okay, sweetheart?”

your lips were glossy, jaw aching, mascara smudging under your eyes. you nodded quickly, overwhelmed and desperate, your hips still rocking back into chris with every thrust, chasing the high even if it was tearing you apart.

“atta girl,” matt whispered, pushing his cock past your lips again, slower this time. “you tell me if it’s too much.”

“god, she’s fuckin’ squeezing me,” chris groaned, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair. he tugged, hard, forcing you back against his chest as he fucked up into you. “so fuckin’ desperate, huh? that mouth, this pussy—fuck—gonna make me lose it.”

you sobbed around matt’s cock, everything tightening inside you, your climax winding up impossibly fast from the overstimulation. between the sweet praise dripping from matt’s lips and the rough grip of chris slamming into your soaked cunt, it was like your body didn’t know how to handle it.

“you gonna cum for us?” matt asked gently, brushing your hair out of your face. “you wanna be good and let go, baby?”

chris leaned in, his voice rough against your ear. “do it. c’mon, mama, make a fuckin’ mess all over my cock.”

and you did. hard. your body seized, trembling so violently chris had to hold you up, your mouth falling open around matt as a broken, choked cry escaped you. everything blurred—pleasure so sharp it hurt, heat crawling up your spine, stars exploding behind your eyes.

“holy shit,” chris groaned, hips stuttering as you clenched around him. “fuck—‘m gonna—”

chris groaned, fucking you through his own release, hips jerking as he spilled inside you, his grip bruising on your hips. you were still shaking when matt eased you back into his hands, lifting your chin to look at him.

“can you take me now, or is that too much?” he asked softly.

your lips trembled, eyes glassy.

“w-want it,” you breathed. “please, matt.”

he smiled—slow and sweet—before guiding you down onto the couch.

“good girl,” he murmured, kissing you softly. “let me take care of you.”

you didn’t even notice chris disappearing to calm himself down with a shower when matt laid you down gently, like you were made of glass, one hand behind your head, the other soothing down your side as chris backed off the couch, chest still heaving, his eyes locked on the mess he made between your thighs. but matt wasn’t looking at that. his focus was all on your face—your flushed cheeks, your swollen lips, the tremble in your thighs that hadn’t stopped.

“you sure?” he asked again, thumb brushing tender over your jaw.

you nodded, legs already falling open for him, greedy in a way you couldn’t even be ashamed of anymore.

“want you,” you whispered, voice ruined.

matt gave you a soft, crooked smile. “you got me, baby.”

and then he sank down, pressing a kiss just below your ear, another on your neck, trailing lower, worshipping you in a way that made your chest ache. his fingers slid between your legs first—careful, coaxing, easing through the mess chris had left inside you, his brows pulling in as you whimpered.

“you’re still so sensitive,” he murmured, more to himself than you. “so fuckin’ beautiful..”

when he finally pressed inside, it was slow—so fucking slow you felt every inch stretch you out all over again, your back arching instinctively, a soft moan slipping from your lips.

“oh my god—matt,” you gasped, hands flying to his shoulders.

he groaned low, lips brushing your temple. “fuck, you feel so good. you okay, sweetheart?”

you nodded again, nails digging into his skin as he bottomed out. he started to move, hips rolling in that sweet, steady rhythm that left no space between your bodies, his forehead resting against yours.

“you don’t gotta do anything,” he whispered between kisses. “just let me feel you, yeah? just this.”

you whimpered, body already twitching from how deep he was hitting, but it wasn’t like chris—there was no punishing pace, no sharp snap of hips. matt moved like he wanted you to melt under him, like he wanted to erase every rough edge with every soft, slow thrust. you felt yourself build again, overwhelmed but weightless, like your body was floating under him.

“you gonna cum again, baby?” matt breathed, voice warm against your mouth. “c’mon, let me feel it, pretty girl. wanna feel you cum f’me.”

you clung to him like you were drowning, jaw slack, moans high and soft and broken.

“matt, i—fuck, i can’t—”

“yes, you can,” he said, kissing you again, deep and slow and dizzying. “you’re already there. i got you, baby.”

and he was right. your whole body seized again, wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you, softer this time—but no less intense. your thighs shook, your head fell back, a sound escaping you that barely sounded human. matt groaned when he felt you tighten, his own pace faltering as he buried himself deep one last time, hips grinding as he came with a low, breathless moan right against your lips. everything went quiet except for your breathing. the sound of your heart racing in your ears. matt stayed there for a while, forehead against yours, his hand stroking your hip gently, grounding you.

finally, matt eased out of you slowly, kissing your shoulder, your cheek, your jaw.

“gonna clean you up,” he murmured, already standing.

you reached for him lazily, eyes half-lidded. “stay. i’m fine.”

he gave you a crooked smile, brushing your hair off your damp forehead. “not gonna leave. just gonna get a towel, alright?”

you nodded, letting your eyes fall shut, your body spent and warm and safe on the familiar couch. you were still draped across the couch like your bones had melted, limbs heavy, skin buzzing. matt had tucked a blanket over you before disappearing into the kitchen, muttering something about water. your body ached in the sweetest way possible—thighs sore, lips swollen, your mind floating somewhere far off and soft. the front bathroom door clicked open. chris strolled out in a cloud of steam, hair wet and curling around his ears, shirtless again—of course—and toweling off the back of his neck as he stepped into the room. he paused when he saw you, a low laugh huffing out of his chest as he dropped into the seat beside you.

“you okay?” he asked, quieter this time. his fingers ghosted across your lower back, drawing slow, idle circles. not trying to start something, just… grounding you. like he actually cared how you were doing.

you hummed, too content to even lift your head, cheek smushed into the couch cushion. “m’fine.”

he smirked. “you look fucked out.”

“that’s ‘cause i am.”

he chuckled again, the sound softer this time. “fair.”

you let the silence hang for a second, too cozy to speak, the heat from his hand a steady warmth against your spine. but then—because he couldn’t help himself:

“soo…”

you cracked one eye open.

“who won?”

you let out a sharp breath through your nose, scoffing, head shaking in disbelief. “are you serious right now?”

chris grinned like a bastard. “it’s a valid question.”

“jesus christ,” you muttered, grabbing the nearest pillow and shoving it into his face, not even hard enough to hurt, just enough to wipe the smugness off him.

he laughed behind the fluff. “you didn’t say no to making this a game!”

“i didn’t say yes either.”

he peeked at you from behind the pillow, still smirking. “well. i know it wasn’t matt.”

matt’s voice chimed in from the doorway, smooth and casual as he handed you a water bottle. “yeah? pretty sure she was still shaking when i finished.”

you groaned, burying your face again. “this is insane.”

“so lettin’ your best friends fuck you isnt?” chris replied.

“i’m sorry, he’s got a point..,” matt added with a chuckle.

you rolled your eyes—but you didn’t stop smiling. tonight wasn’t about either of them ‘winning’ or ‘proving’ something. not for them, (at least not for matt,) but it definitely was something.

dividers by @strangergraphics

🎞️ @tits4matt @loser41ifee @sweetshuga @nickysturnss @courta13 @sophsturns @starsforu @h3arts4nat @emely9274 @chestersturn @watercolorskyy @httpssturns @cherryystemm @adoremattsturns @jaybirdie34 @sturnspecial @secretaccountx5 @ivysturnss @fmalewokk @zenithsturniolo @iloveduckssm @facetimemethatpussy3 @iloveduckssm @zenithsturniolo @sturnsrecord

[sluttapes]

what if…

@tits4matt @loser41ifee @sweetshuga @nickysturnss @courta13 @sophsturns @starsforu @h3arts4nat @emely9274 @chestersturn @watercolorskyy @httpssturns @cherryystemm @adoremattsturns @jaybirdie34 @sturnspecial @secretaccountx5 @ivysturnss @fmalewokk @zenithsturniolo @iloveduckssm @facetimemethatpussy3 @iloveduckssm @zenithsturniolo

[sluttapes]

⌞ 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞⌝

matthew bernard sturniolo

𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘮𝘴ㆍ𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯ㆍ𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬ㆍ𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴ㆍ𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨ㆍ

matt’s fingertips dig into your hip, pressing you harder against his lap, head leaned against his chest as his other hand works between your thighs. the faint murmur of chris and nick’s laughter bleeds through the wall, muffled by the thrum of your pulse in your ears, and matt's heartbeat.

his breath is hot against your neck, lips brushing your skin as he whispers, “shhhh, i know sweetheart… gotta stay quiet for me.”

his fingers plunge deeper, curling just right, and you bite back a whimper, nails scrambling at his forearm. his palm smothers your mouth tighter, stifling the broken sounds fighting to escape.

“just a little more,” he coos, voice low and strained. “let me make you feel good.”

your legs tremble, sweat-slick and shaking, as he drags you through another orgasm—your third? fourth?—body seizing as slick spills over his knuckles. he doesn’t stop. the squelch of his fingers is obscene, rhythmic, loud, but his rhythm never falters.

“c’mon,” he grits out, hips shifting under you, his own arousal obvious against your back. “i know you can do it.”

the pad of his thumb grinds against your clit, relentless, and you writhe, tears pricking your eyes. overstimulation burns like fire, but he’s merciless, murmuring, “shh, baby, one more. you can give me one more.”

your back arches involuntarily, a silent scream trapped behind his hand as your body betrays you again, convulsing around him. clear liquid gushes, soaking his wrist, the couch, your thighs. “attagiiirl,” he breathes, finally slowing, easing you through the aftershocks with gentler strokes.

a floorboard creaks in the hallway. both of you freeze.

“matt?” nick’s voice, closer now. “you good?”

his fingers slip free, glistening. he wipes them casually on his jeans, arm loosening around your waist. “yeah,” he calls back, steady. “just washing my hands.”

🎞 @tits4matt @loser41ifee @sweetshuga @nickysturnss @courta13 @sophsturns @starsforu @h3arts4nat @emely9274 @chestersturn @watercolorskyy @httpssturns @cherryystemm @adoremattsturns @jaybirdie34 @sturnspecial @secretaccountx5 @ivysturnss @fmalewokk @zenithsturniolo @iloveduckssm @facetimemethatpussy3

[sluttapes]

uhm so maybe that was a lie..

are we getting another tape?🛐

yesss tonight

[sluttapes]

are we getting another tape?🛐

yesss tonight

[sluttapes]

hello beautiful people! :)

since it’s mental health awareness month, i wanted to come on here and let everyone know that you are seen.

mental health is something that’s very easily overlooked and often not cared about, sadly. it’s a huge struggle and makes life a lot harder for so many people. as someone who’s struggled with mental health issues like anxiety & depression from a very young age, i know how it feels and i want people to know that i understand them and i am always here to talk if anyone ever needs it.

its important to believe in yourself when no one around you does, and that can be hard. it can take a while to learn how to live with these struggles, sometimes it’s nearly impossible, but there’s always something to hold on to. even if it’s the tiniest bit of a happy memory, hope, or the love you receive from the people around you.

if you got up today, you can be proud of yourself. you’re here, and i am proud of you for that.

no matter how hard it gets, remember that one day you can look back on yourself and on those moments where you struggled the most, and be proud of yourself for getting out of that. the strongest thing you can do is ask for help, never hesitate. i am here and i see you, i understand you.

you are loved, you are amazing.

big hugs, and lots of love, malia 𖦹✮⋆˙

[sluttapes]

ily ily ily ily

hehe, hehe. 420. (thank you)

[sluttapes]

Same thing I said on my main goes here aswell. If you support ableism, spread any form of hate or bullying. Get the fuck off my blog.

You’re not better than anyone else because you have a gc where you are genuinely just rude and disrespectful in. saying slurs, making it a joke, taking a screenshot and posting it without even thinking about how wrong and disrespectful it is. In fact, it makes you look incredibly stupid.

“Out of context”

“Our kind of humor”

“Supposed to be a joke”

“Someone in the gc can reclaim it”

Your little excuses are embarrassing. Every single one of them.

[sluttapes]

hehe, hehe. 420. (thank you)

[sluttapes]

anon bc it’s my main but fuck your writing is so good dude literally better than any fic i’ve read. you write the boys so good too they’re so sexy

heheh ty! now i wanna know who this is LMFAOO

[sluttapes]

https://www.tumblr.com/sluttapes/781758768580018176/begging-for-another-part-literally-have

Omg omg ???

I’m so excited

its up its up its up