sturnsiolos0

[sturnsiolos0]

ima just keep my mouth shut

[sturnsiolos0]

HIS HANDSSS YES GAWDDDD

[sturnsiolos0]

ok so these photos are giving me symptoms of psychosis

[sturnsiolos0]

choke me out

thanks💜😸

[sturnsiolos0]

my man looks so fiiineee😓

[sturnsiolos0]

ME.🙋‍♀️

[sturnsiolos0]

got over this tt way too quick cuz actually wtf omg

[sturnsiolos0]

he’s not real

[sturnsiolos0]

SOMEBODY SEDATE ME

[sturnsiolos0]

Never tired of-Matt Sturniolo

  Curled up on the sofa in the living room, you flick aimlessly through the same novel that you'd already read probably a thousand and one times, trying to focus on the plot that you knew would sweep you away to another world if only you would let it. But your attention is not focused on the pages, you cannot be captured by the printed words that you already knew like the back of your hand.

Instead, your mind keeps drifting to thoughts of your boyfriend, who had just recently returned home from a long day of filming and attending meetings, now sitting across from you scrolling mindlessly on his phone.

Your gaze would flicker up from the pages to skim his handsome profile, trace the sharp angles of his jaw and the contrasting fullness of his lips, before darting back down to read same the first line. Then back up again, you would study his dark lashes as they brushed his flushed cheeks every time he blinked. His sweatshirt having been discarded over the arm of the sofa a while ago now, you can't help but peek down at his bare arms.

As if reading your mind, he pauses to glance up at you, a curious smile on his face as he regards you staring at him from over the top of your book. "Are you alright..?"

"Of course. Just wondering how everything went?"

You nod with a soft murmur of acknowledgement as he explains what they recently discussed during the meetings.

"I think we'll finish it later though," He states moments afterward, and before you can reply, he continues, "I'm tired of going to all those though."

Matt shifts in his seat to give you his full, undivided attention. His eyes scan the book that your fingers were threatening to let go of in favour of tossing aside, and he lets out a quiet huff of amusement. "Speaking of tired, how are you not bored to death of that book yet? This has to be the hundredth time I've seen you with it."

Grinning, you finally close the worn novel and drop it onto the table with an over-dramatic sigh. "Some things you just don't get tired of."

Matt arches a single brow at your statement, casting his eyes about the room, before a smirk that is equal parts inquisitive and suggestive washes over his face. "Is that the only thing you don't get tired of, then?"

You allow a wicked smile to light up your face as you lean in towards him.

"Well, I can think of a couple of other things...For example..."

Without warning, you plant both hands on the cushion in between you and close the distance, launching yourself forward to capture his lips in a swift kiss. Pulling back after a moment, you find

Matt to be grinning, eyes crinkled and cheeks tinted scarlet at the sudden display of affection. His hands, warm and gentle, graze your own as they continue to prop you on his lap, before looping around your wrists and tugging softly; just enough to hint at wanting more.

"Yeah, I can agree with that example. That never gets old."

"What about you? What's something you don't get tired of?" You whisper, your traitorous gaze trickling down from his eyes to admire the plush curve of cupid's bow. His tongue darts out to skim his lip - you knew that he knew what he was doing - and your eyes flick up just in time to catch his own darting in the direction of his bedroom, his brows twitching up in a silent question that you immediately answer with another quick peck before pushing away and springing to your feet.

Matt grabs his sweatshirt with one hand and capturing your own hand in the other, your fingers intertwining instinctively as he nonchalantly makes his way out of the living room. When the two of you finally make it into his room, he drops his things onto the top of his desk in favor of pulling you close to his chest.

"Now, something I don't get tired of..." He murmurs, head tilting down as his lips ghost across your own; your fingers latch onto his arm, eager for more as your eyelids flutter shut. He indulges you with a deeper kiss, always so sweet and gentle with you, before pulling away, allowing a hushed whine to escape your swollen lips.

"That doesn't count," You huff breathlessly, "That's the exact same example I gave you."

Just like before, Matt is smiling down at you, though his eyes glint with an untamed excitement at the challenge as your fingers toy with the straps of his tank top taut across his broad shoulders. He hums quietly, as though pretending to think, before he loosens his grip and drops down to sit on the edge of his bed, patting the space beside him. Following his lead, you perch next to him, already leaning in to meet him halfway as he graces you with another indulgent kiss, although it only lasts a second before he's pulling away and slipping off of the bed to kneel before you.

He stares up at you earnestly as his gentle fingers slide up and down your calves, his touch like electricity despite the material barrier of your pants, and your breath catches in your throat as he leans closer.

"Okay, this is something I don't get tired of." Matt's  touch trails further up your legs, fingertips tickling the backs of your knees as he shifts his grip to allow his palms to completely cover your knees, where he pauses, the tips of his thumbs just daring to sneak higher up your legs. "May I?"

You nod dazedly at his question, and your fingers twist at the sheets as the anticipation of what was to come threatens to spill out of you. Heat pools deep within, and your breaths escape your parted lips in little pants; you bite at your lip, trying your hardest to regain control before he's even done anything, but the effect that Matt had over you was downright overwhelming to say the least.

Slowly, carefully, Matt's hands make their way up your thighs, his eyes latched on your own all the while. His fingers hook into the waistband of your pants and panties, and you can only lift your hips in compliance as he tugs them down, gently guiding them down your legs until he pauses at your ankles to slip your shoes off.

He sets them aside, doing the same with your panties, before returning his attention back to you, tender hands guiding you by the hips to the edge of the mattress before pausing and silently asking your permission once more.

"Please..."

His head bows at your whisper, lips trailing feather-light kisses across the tops of your thighs his hand snaking around to find purchase at the base of your spine, holding you steady in preparation. Your legs part of their own accord, thighs already sticky with your arousal, and you shudder as his breath ghosts over your exposed pussy.

Though Matt is unhurried in his actions, he is by no means a tease, and so you have no reason to beg for anything when his hot tongue finally slips between your soaked folds and languidly trails up to explore your trembling clit, his full lips finding purchase to give a firm suck before burying his face in your pussy. His nose nudges at your clit with every pass of his tongue, exploring your folds thoroughly, and your fingers find themselves weaving into his thick hair in a desperate attempt to ground yourself whilst you fight a losing battle against your heavy eyelids.

Matt continues to lap at your pussy, tongue laving at your core, before finally thrusting in. Your gasps grow to breathy moans, and then to desperate whimpers and stuttered cries. He introduces his fingers into the mix, deft fingertips trace mind-shattering circles around your desperate clit as his tongue explores your fluttering walls, before they would switch, and suddenly Matt's tongue was swirling around your clit whilst his long fingers were sliding deep within your pussy, settling on a pace that left you needing more yet felt as if you were experiencing all too much.

You don't quite know when your hips began to move, but now you're writhing against his face as he eats you out with a reckless abandon, his grip on your back tightening as he draws you closer still, fingers and tongue moving in tandem. Suddenly, the world seems to spark, and your orgasm tears through your body, fingers spasming in his hair and thighs trembling on either side of his face as you flood his mouth. Breathing feels like a distant memory, and you're vaguely aware of the fact that you're now laying on your back.

Blinking through the haze of your orgasm, you manage to lift your head far enough off of the bed to see Matt, hair a tousled mess and the entire lower half of his face glistening with your arousal, grinning up at you. He gets up from the floor to flop down on the bed beside you, legs dangling over the edge.

His lips are swollen and he seems to be just as out of breath as you, but he tilts his head and faces you to huff out, "I know I said I don't get tired of that, but it certainly tires me out."

"Well," You manage in between breathless giggles as you roll over to curl up into his awaiting arms, "There are definitely some other activities I can think of that have the same effect."

[sturnsiolos0]

Unrequited-Chris Sturniolo

You were no fool.

You knew that beneath the layers of cool charisma and calculated charm, Chris was incapable of true emotions. And yet, despite all of his faults - there was something about him that simply drew you in.

Perhaps it was the fact that apparently, you were the only one so painfully aware of such behaviours that made him all the more tempting to you. It seemed that to everyone else, Chris could do no wrong, but you saw through the lies, this false character he presented himself as.

You often wondered if that made what you were doing with him all the more terrible; Hooking up with him behind closed doors. Maybe it wouldn't seem so terrible if it was not one-sided, or if he was capable of displaying true emotion beside the satisfaction of bestowing dominance over you. It would seem even less terrible if you didn't enjoy what he did.

But how could you not when those nimble fingers would dance across your skin, igniting icy flame in their wake? Or when that smirk would rest perfectly on his face as he watched you writhe beneath him? To love Chris was a conscious sin, and most definitely a sure-fire way to break your own heart, but when he would give just enough to whisper sweet nothings in your ears, you found that you didn't much care about the inevitable fallout.

Especially now, stood before his towering frame. Chris leans against the counter, as proud and casually in command as ever, casting a neutral eye over your naked form in the center of the room.

A table is between you two, hip-high and dark mahogany, polished to a gleam until it reflected the dull lighting of the room. He nods towards it, eyes never leaving yours, and there is no need for you to voice your thoughts aloud as he answers your question.

"Come around. Lay yourself face-down on the table, display yourself to me, baby." He murmurs, voice like honey.

And of course, you obey, bare feet padding against the cool floor as you circle the table, daring to lift your hand and trace your fingertips along the smooth surface edge of the wood, your eyes dropping to follow. Stood in line with Chris, turned to the side, you cast a peek at him from the corner of your eye to see his face before turning to face the table fully. Slowly, as if the silence in the room was seeping into your movements, you lean forwards, closing the distance between you and the lacquered tabletop until the soft flesh of your torso, your breasts, are pressed firmly against the cold wood.

Your cheek rests on the surface, head tilted the side as you gaze absently at the room that surrounds you, your breathing remaining slow in spite of the thrumming of your heart and the mounting anticipation coiling within the pits of your stomach. Everything is cool - the slick table that supports your weight, the air that bites your exposed skin, the fingertips that are now ghosting your spine, leaving a torrent of shudders to rupture in their wake as he traces each vertebrae.

Chris starts low, at the dip in your back before gliding up the arch, sailing between your shoulder blades, before finding the delicate discs of your neck, brushing away the stray strands of hair that tickle your sensitive skin. His touch shifts, adjusting until he's gripping softly, palm pressed against the back of your neck whilst his fingertips rest on one side of your throat and his thumb on the other. He's still, as he usually is, and your breathing grows shallow despite the lack of pressure he applies.

His fingers flex, delicate fingertips digging deeper for a moment and drawing an uncontrollable gasp to slip past your parted lips before retracing their steps to retreat back down your spine.

Chris never kissed you. It was an unspeakable rule between you, that displays of affection were not to be confused with the pure physical desire he showed you, and yet, over the course of whatever it was between you, you had found him to betray his own rules. His touches lingered for longer, explored more of your body, and though he never left you unsatisfied, he seemed - in his own way - to be paying particular attention towards trying to ensure your pleasure.

His touch continues it's descent, tracing the curve of your ass before pausing. Your breath stutters to a halt as anticipation swells, and you steel yourself with a hard bite to your lower lip. Suddenly, fingers delve between your legs, fingertips seeking out your thrumming clit as the heel of his hand grinds against your entrance. Little more than a breathless whimper escapes you as his nimble fingers brush and circle your clit, dragging through your wet folds to tease at your entrance for only a second before his middle finger sinks deep into you, his index finger returning to your clit to draw forth more liquid arousal.

Chris's ring finger joins the other within your pussy after a few thrusts, and when obscene squelches fill the air with each thrust of his fingers, he pulls away. Tongue bitten hard to hold back your protests, your eyes clench tight as you envision the sights that are paired with the sounds emitting from behind you.

The click of a metal belt buckle unfastening, the swift drag of metal teeth as a zipper was undone, the rustle of the material dropping to pool at his feet. One hand rests at your hip, the cold bite of metal from his ring seeping into your hot skin, before the tip of his cock is suddenly brushing up against your slick folds before finding your entrance. You muse that it is perhaps the warmest part of Chris that you've ever felt, but with each velvet inch of his length that slowly fills you, you find it harder and harder to focus on anything else except for the deliciously intense pressure.

His skin grazes the backs of your trembling thighs as Chris buries the rest of his cock deep inside of your pussy, walls clenching and throbbing in earnest as he stretches you until your panting breath fogs the surface of the table. "Jesus Christ," He moans, his jaw slackened and open.

You dare to thrust backwards, grinding hard against his hips, and gain the satisfaction, however temporary, of hearing his grunt of pleasured surprise. Both hands now grip at your hips, a warning, holding you still against the edge of the table, and you fight a losing battle against the smirk painting itself across your flushed face.

"Careful now, you know not to get too ahead of yourself." He grits, before leaning in close, his torso a mere fraction of an inch from brushing your naked back as he breathes in your ear. "Especially when you're beneath me like this."

Chris delivers the first thrust whilst still draped over your frame, reveling in the close-up view of your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his cock filling you. He's quick to straighten back up, favouring to tower over you as he begins to settle into his preferred pace; an achingly slow withdrawal of his length to savour the drag of your tight walls, followed by a sharp thrust to the hilt, filling you so entirely and deeply that you could do little more than gasp and moan wantonly.

With each roll of his hips, you found your own twitching to reciprocate, but his grip kept you pinned firmly to the table. Bruises would most certainly form, but you didn't care, the bite of the wood was a tempting contrast of pain to the waves of pleasure he filled you with. Your toes, numb against the cool stone, curl tight, your legs giving out as they spasm uncontrollably.

"Chris-" You whisper, yelping when he delivers a particularly harsh thrust in response. "Please..."

Whether or not he does so in response to your plea, or simply because his pleasure dictated him to, Chris's pace increases, settling on speed over fully withdrawing. He remains buried deep within your throbbing pussy, his pounding becoming borderline-desperate as his length twitches, once, twice, before suddenly his hips stutter to a halt, his entire cock sheathed by your clenching walls as he swells and releases, white-hot fluids filling you.

"Come on baby, it's time for you to let go." He coaxes, voice barely controlled as his cock continues to twitch. His grip dares to slacken, and he reaches between your trembling body and the hard mahogany to find your desperate clit, throbbing for his touch that you so eagerly accept.

His touch draws forth needy mewls and whines, fingertips toying with the swollen bud of nerves, and it only takes a few expert flicks and touches before you're clenching tight around him, pussy spasming as your climax crashes over you like a bolt of lightening. You are only distantly aware of your own moan, high in pitch and awash in euphoria as it echoes through the room, but when you finally come to your senses, it's to Chris's gentle voice and the light caress of the backs of his fingers against your crimson cheek, the heavy stone of his ring like a bite of ice to your heated flesh.

"You did very well, you always do so well."

And, it was in this act, the soft praise and the angelic touches, that you knew the reason why you kept coming back to Chris.

[sturnsiolos0]

IM LOSING MY MIND

[sturnsiolos0]

Private-Matt Sturniolo

You will do anything to get what you want. And what you wanted? Well, that was the man currently dragging you up to his bedroom,a crooked grin lighting up his face as he glances over his shoulder to take in your half-running, half-stumbling form.

A breathless giggle slips past your lips as he begins to slow his pace, and when the two of you draw close to his door, he turns to walk backwards, not even pausing in his steps to tug you close and wind his arms around you. Matt leans down to plant an eager kiss to your lips, and before you can reciprocate, he's spinning you around, still pacing backwards to retrace his steps.

He repeats his actions once more, a firm, promising press of his mouth against yours followed by a sudden turn.

"You wanna tell me why i was dragged up here?" You comment jokingly, peering into the room before glancing back up to Matt, who is smirking down at you, pride and anticipation mingling into what would be an adorable expression if not tinged by the all-encompassing lust blowing his pupils and staining his cheeks.

"Thought we could use some quiet, plus Chris and Nick aren't here." He explains casually, hands slipping down from your waist to cup your ass, and a wicked grin reveals his intentions.

Liquid heat pools within you - It's the push you need for your hands to slip back down to grip at his shirt and yank him into the room, this time you being the one to walk backwards. He follows eagerly, hurrying into the room, and kicks the door closed behind him without a even half a glance.

You break away for a moment, "Quiet, what for?"

"Well, not that I don't enjoy our little midnight quickies in the kitchen or the car, but I thought we could do with somewhere a little more.." He gives pause as he considers the right word, and your heart beats double-time at what was sure to come; sure enough, Matt runs the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, walking you backwards until your knees buckle against the bed, flopping down to stare up into his eyes. "...private."

Matt studies you - lips parted in anticipation, cheeks flushed, eyes hooded as they mirror the lust in his own. A broad palm cups your jaw, fingers splaying across your warm cheek as his thumb takes its time tracing the curve your of bottom lip, before daring to slip into the corner of your awaiting mouth. Your tongue is quick to envelope the digit, sucking gently as you maintain eye contact; Matt swallows, his breath deepening as his pupils dilate like a spill of ink. Pulling back, his thumb slips from your mouth with a wet pop, and you smirk lazily up at him.

"What did you have planned then, Matt?" You breathe, steeling yourself against the temptation of simply grabbing him by the shirt and yanking him down on top of you, especially when he shudders at his name, whispered like something akin to a prayer if only it wasn't with such filthy intonation. Instead, you wait for him to put his own plans in motion.

"Well, I thought we could get naked for a change." He jokes, and your laughter bursts out of you; certainly, the pair of you got up to plenty of mischief together, but never more than a few half-undressed fucks or a heavy make-out session in the kitchen before one of his brothers would interrupt.

He drops down onto the bed beside you, knees bumping into yours as he twists to face your awaiting form, and you watch his every move in anticipation that increases with every passing second. Matt reaches out, curling a long arm around your waist and pulling you closer whilst the other cups the back of your neck, and your hands find purchase on his broad shoulders of their own accord as he closes the short distance. It's a swift kiss that quickly turns heated, his tongue exploring every word your mouth once uttered. The gap between you closes when you shift from the bed and twist to straddle his lap, knees digging into the plush mattress as you grind against his cock, already hard and ready though the layers of clothing separating you.

Matt grunts at the pressure, and you smirk against his mouth, daring to nip at his lower lip; it's enough to catch him by surprise, and you use the opportunity to push him back onto the bed before fidgeting with his shirt to take it off. Your breathing comes fast and heavy, a pace that matches Matt's as his hands disappear behind you to grab your ass, pulling you closer still.

With his shirt finally off, you barely have a moment to admire the exposed skin before he's sitting up once again and removing your shirt to reciprocate the act of removing his; he immediately was latching himself onto the exposed arch of your throat, nibbling and sucking a path down the sensitive flesh and across your chest until coming to a stop at your clothed breasts. Matt wastes no time in unlatching the clasp of your bra to toss away without a thought.

You lift yourself higher onto your knees, stomach pressed tight against his bare chest, and a breathless whimper escapes you when Matt's mouth once again reconnects with your skin, hot lips skimming the underside of your breasts before daring to caress your nipples. Matt's arms coil tight around your waist, pulling you close, and you run your hands through his hair, cradling his head. His tongue laves and swirls until they peak, and he takes the tender bud between his teeth to gently tug, to which you can only whine desperately, your fingers twisting in his hair and yanking in pleasure.

Matt continues his admissions on your breasts, alternating between playful nips, earnest sucking, and adoring kisses, and you fight against your closed eyelids to peer down at him, admiring the sheer devotion and passion written across his face, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Lowering yourself until your ass once again rests against his lap, you almost laugh at the way his neck bows in his pursue of your breasts, until he can't no longer; he pauses only a moment before redirecting his attention once again to your mouth, to which you eagerly respond.

You grind against his lap, feeling his thick cock press against you, and your hands graze down his chest, fingers splayed in appreciation, before reaching your destination and getting to work on undoing the buttons on his pants. Like-minded, Matt loosens his grip to undo the fastenings of yours, before giving a light swat to your ass.

"Up," He grunts, but he's already lifting you to stand you up; your pants slip from your body, and you kick them away, your shoes and socks quick to follow, as Matt does the same with his own remaining clothing, almost falling in his excitement.

Before you can remove your panties, already soaked, Matt is grabbing you by the waist and tugging you close. He's stripped bare, sat on the edge of the bed with his legs splayed, and you can only stare at him, a blend of awe and hunger alight in your eyes at his naked form. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugs them down, the material peeling away from your glistening pussy that he can't look away from.

"Fuck, come here," Matt mutters, voice like gravel as he pulls you close. He runs a thick finger through your folds appreciatively, and when he pulls away to inspect it, he nods in approval at your liquid arousal before slipping the digit into his mouth and sucking it clean. "Hmm, you're fucking delicious, love. All of this, just for me?"

"Mm-hmm." You moan, nodding fervently as your fingers once again entwine in his hair, and he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your stomach before guiding you to kneel on his spread lap, shins pressing into the solid muscle of his thighs as your feet catch against his knees. Matt's lips find yours, desperation tingeing the rough movements, and when you shift closer, you jolt with a needy moan when the length of his throbbing cock brushes against your pussy.

"Shit," He hisses through clenched teeth, and one hand leaves your ass to slip between your bodies. Fingers trace your folds, finding your swollen clit to rub a trembling circle around the bundle of nerves before once again slipping back down through your slick folds to tease your entrance. Despite the awkward angle, Matt still manages to slip a thick finger into you, his thumb brushing against your clit with each knuckle that he sinks in; one, two, and three, and he pumps a couple of strokes before withdrawing, only to return with a second finger. Your pussy clenches around the intrusion, his expert digits working you open in preparation, and you can only moan and sigh wantonly against his lips.

You try to return the favour, one hand untangling from his ruffled hair to stroke at his cock, but you only get as far as wrapping your hand around his throbbing length before Matt is withdrawing his fingers and leaving you empty. He can feel your cry of desperation on your lips before you can even utter it, and his fingers, drenched in your arousal, seeks out your own around his cock.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, tonight is all about you." He soothes, and he gently pushes your hand away to pump his cock, your slick mixing with his beading pre-cum as his fingers twist against his tip. Matt leans back to stare down, eyes fixated on your pussy as he runs cock through your dripping folds, the tip nudging at your clit, and you can only grind yourself closer as he continues to tease you; with every half-thrust guided by his hand, the head of his cock would catch your entrance before slipping through your pussy to brush against the throbbing bundle of nerves.

"Matt, Matt, please," You beg, voice needy and breathless as you clutch at his shoulders. "Please, fuck me, Matt, I want you inside of me now."

"Anything for you, love." He murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to your jaw before aligning his dick with your entrance. "Ready?"

You nod earnestly, loose hair flailing about your shoulders as you gaze into Matts's eyes, your own heavy-lidded and glassy with tears of pleasure-fueled desperation. Slowly, achingly so, he pushes in, inch by inch, and your high-pitched moan reverberates through the room as his thick cock stretches you to your limits. Finally, he bottoms out, and through your euphoria, you catch sight of Matt, slack-jawed and panting heavily as he tries to hold still; around him, your pussy twitches and trembles, and your moans are met by strained grunts as his grip tightens on you, palms squeezing your hips and fingertips sinking in to the flesh of your ass.

Your hips shift experimentally, slowly lifting an inch before dropping back down, and you can only offer him a dazed nod before tightening your grip on his shoulders and rising again, the drag of his cock against your fluttering walls alighting each and every nerve within you. It's difficult to ride him in this position when you're so over-stimulated, and Matt is quick to note this; his grip on you adjusts, and he lifts you before dropping you back down, repeating the act until your hips are rolling and he's thrusting up to meet you.

The room is filled with heavy panting and high moans, curses and profanity littering the air like prayers as sweat dampens your overheated skin and kisses become hungry clashes of teeth and tongue. You're distantly aware of your nails biting into Matt's shoulders, and when you drag them down his back, scrambling for purchase, Matt's hips stutter. Suddenly, you're being flipped, your back colliding with the rumpled sheets.

Matt looms over you, hasty hands grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his waist before burying his cock in you once more. You only have a moment to acclimatise before he starts to thrust, face buried in your neck, and the new angle combined with the sheer force as he drills into you makes the tension within snap. Your pussy clenches tight, walls spasming as you climax, and you can only chant his name as your hands clamp down on his biceps.

He continues to thrust throughout your orgasm, throbbing cock dragging against your velvet heat, until he finally shudders, hips faltering and stuttering to a halt as he cums deep within you. Matt collapses against you, softening cock still buried in your pussy, before rolling over with an exhausted grunt and pulling out. Strong arms seek out your shuddering form, still desperately trying to catch your breath, and Matt pulls you over until your head rests against his heaving chest, his pounding heart echoing in your ear.

"Holy shit," You murmur when you finally find your voice. "That was good."

"Only good?" He mumbles around a yawn, prompting you to yawn yourself. "How about we go to the shower and have round two in there?"

[sturnsiolos0]

More-Matt Sturniolo

(this one goes right into the smut i didn't rlly feel like writing a whole thing😭)

He closes the distance between you both, leaning down to brush his mouth to yours, and you eagerly respond, tongue darting past his parted lips before he quickly takes control, stumbling forwards to press you against the wall.

The kiss soon gives way to something hotter, something primal, and his hands are soon slipping past your clothes to seek out your skin. Your touch is just as hungry, grappling with his shirt and yanking it off him, before moving on to fumble with the button and zipper of his pants. Teeth nip at swollen lips and Matt's mouth strays to latch itself to your jaw, meanwhile you successfully manage to  get past the confines of Matt's clothing, one hand maintaining its grip on the rich material of his waistband whilst the other dips in to graze his cock, already half-hard and hot against your palm.

Matt hisses at the contact, hips jerking forward on instinct, and you gasp, liquid heat forming within you at the thoughts of what you wanted Matt to do to you, of what you wanted to do to him. Drawing back, you respond to his whine with a chaste kiss to his flushed cheek before licking your palm, fighting the urge to break the heavy eye-contact that he had pulled away to bestow upon you, and you watch the protest die in his eyes as he watches your tongue trail a wet streak over your digits.

Your hand returns once again, and you grasp his cock firmly, now throbbing and firm. A hand tangles in your hair, tugging your head back as Matt returns his attention to your lips, and your hand finds a languid pace, fingers tracing the pulsing vein and thumb teasing the smooth head of his cock with each upwards stroke. He grunts into your mouth, the hand half-way up your shirt gravitating towards your breasts as your chest heaves, and he roughly yanks at your bra to free them, deft fingers immediately seeking out your nipple to pinch and toy with the sensitive flesh until it pebbled at his touch.

Pre-cum beads at his tip, your fingers catching the fluid and smearing it over his cock before you pause. Matt's hips thrust of their own accord, seeking out your touch. Lust weighs heavily on his features; his kiss-bruised lips are parted as he pants for breath, cheeks stained crimson and pupils threatening to swallow the silver ring of iris.

"What are you doing?" He asks, voice gritty with arousal as he watches you.

Slowly, eyes still on Matt's, you slide down the wall, until the soles of your shoes are flat against the wall and your knees are digging in to the unforgiving floor, spread wide enough that you can feel the coolness of the ground through your soaked panties. Matt adjusts his stance as he stares down at you, one hand still tangled in your hair as the other braces against the wall, and you tug his clothing down just enough for his flushed cock to spring forth. Palms resting flat against his clothed thighs, you lean forward and tentatively run the tip of your tongue along the underside of his length, from base to tip, and he lets out a fevered moan, biting his lip in restraint.

"Do you want more?" You murmur, looking up at him through your lashes. He nods breathlessly in reply as you begin wrapping your lips around his leaking tip, you lightly bob your head a few times, to which he quietly grunts; you're salivating at his cock weighing on your tongue, and you tell yourself to relax, desperate for more of him. You can feel his thighs tremble, the muscles tense beneath your palms as he fights against the urge to thrust, and so you dig your nails into his legs until his eyes snap open to meet yours. You manage a nod, fingers twisting in the fabric to tug him closer as you convey your intentions silently; it only takes him a moment before his fingers are flexing in your hair and his other hand is peeling away from the wall to cradle your jaw, fingers splaying against the side of your throat.

He starts gently, almost hesitantly, a subtle twitch of his hips that pushes his cock a fraction of an inch deeper into your mouth. Again, you tug encouragingly, tongue laving at the white-hot flesh in temptation. Matt thrusts again, the velvety head brushing against the back of your throat, and something within him snaps; he sets a rapid pace, hips snapping vigorously as he fucks your face. Saliva dribbles from your mouth and your pussy drools; your grip on his trousers is quick to adjust, one hand wrapping around the back of his thigh as the other slips past your pants and panties to find your clit, and you can only whine and moan desperately as Matt's cock buries itself in your throat.

Matt's face is caught up in an expression of combined focus and sheer pleasure, teeth gritted as he fights against the urge to close his eyes; he's far too intent on watching you melt into complete debauchery, your chest heaving and hand disappearing down your pants as an expression of someone who has been thoroughly fucked into bliss works its way onto your features. A needy whine leaves you, the vibrations sending a tremor up his spine, and his thumb strokes your cheek encouragingly, fingertips pressing into the back of your neck as he feels his climax draw near.

It's sudden, unexpected. Matt's hips stutter to a halt, the hand in your hair tightening its grip to the point of pain, but before you can complain, searing ribbons of cum are spilling down your throat. He tries to pull away, the tang coating your tongue and smearing against your lips as the last few drops spatter your flushed cheek, and you can only swallow what remains in your mouth. He runs a finger over your sticky cheek, and before he can pull away, your tongue darts out to run along the slender digit.

[sturnsiolos0]

Hottub-Chris Sturniolo

You walked back into the hotel suite and kicked off your shoes before you hung your purse up on the empty hook. The patio doors were wide opened, so you sauntered outside. The cooling damp wood under your bare toes caused goosebumps to decorate your calves.

Chris was reclined in the hot tub, eyes closed as he took a long drink. It should be illegal to use your tongue like that without intent. You were well aware of how talented that tongue of his could be when he had intent. You shifted on your feet as a rush of heat passed through your body, but you kept your voice casual. "Did you finally decide that this place isn't all bad?"

"I guess." He lulled his head to the side, glancing up at you.

"Is it okay if i join you in there?" You let a small smile pass over your lips.

"Plenty of room, Princess."

"I need to change."

He smirked and gripped your wrist tighter, "Just throw your clothes on the rail. No one's around."

"Nice try." You slipped away from his hold and ignored his overly dramatic sigh.

"I'm always trying."

You rolled your eyes as you moved back through the hotel suite and into the bathroom. You place your jewlery in a dish on the bathroom sink after you tossed your clothing over the hamper in the corner.

You bit your bottom lip as a wicked plan popped into your head. You paced back to the patio, a smile forming on your face.

"Hey," He attempted to hold your  hand, but you didn't let him. He opened his eyes as you circled the hot tub, and they widened as he realized that you weren't wearing anything. The water sloshed as he started to get up.

"No." You stated plainly and he halted immediately. "Just sit back down." He complied without hesitation and a surge of power put a seductive smile on your face. Your fingers traced the edge of the hot tub as you positioned yourself directly across from him, letting the moonlight frame you from behind.

You ran your hands through your hair and held his gaze. Chris's knuckles were white as his grip on the rim of the tub hardened, "Y/n..."

"Shhh. Just relax."

Chris's eyes were nearly black with desire, he wanted you and nothing else mattered. You stepped into the hot tub and glided into his space as he gripped your thighs pulling you on top of him as he sought your mouth with his.

You placed a single finger to his lips. "No, no. Not yet."

"I'm not a fan of waiting." His tongue darted out and ran over the pad of your index finger.

"Really? I've never noticed." You settled yourself more firmly on him and rolled your body against his, feeling how hard he already was. You hook your fingers beneath his swimming suit before pulling it down just enough for his cock to come out.

He firmed his hold on your hips.

"Is there a reason i have to wait?"

"Because I say so." You leaned in closer and whispered, "Put your arms behind your head."

"Gonna be hard for me to touch you that way." He argued but still submitted.

"Harder is the idea, Handsome." You squeezed his thighs with yours as you reclined back into the hot water.  You were giving him a show, hair fanning out beneath you. "This feels amazing."

"Yes, it does." His voice was graveled. You loved his voice like that, it was like you were too much for him to handle. "How long I am going to be your hostage?"

You wrapped your legs around his waist and tightened your stomach to pull yourself up into a sitting position. You pressed your chest against his, the friction making him hiss and heat to burn through you all over again. You trailed your tongue along the shell of his ear until you caught the lobe in your teeth. "Until I say so. You do what I say,when I say...and maybe I'll let you get off...maybe if you're really, really good I'll let you get off buried inside of me. Would you like that baby?"

"Y/n." Chris groaned into your ear as he pressed his face against yours, trying to get closer.

"What is it?" You shifted back a bit and grabbed his chin. "You didn't answer my question." You dropped your voice to that purr that drove him crazy. "Do you want to cum buried inside of me, Chris?" You ground yourself down on his cock, relishing the searing jolt that you felt all the way to the base of your spine.

Despite the fact that his muscles twitched, Chris remained frozen and focused on your face, "Y/n, you know how much I love to cum inside of you,"

"Ah-ah-ah." You tapped your finger against him, "You didn't say the magic word."

His eyebrow arched, "I have to say please now?"

"Yes,"

"Please, I need you."

"I'm sure you do." You finally succumbed to your own urges and pressed your lips against his. He responded instantly molding his mouth to yours, trying to devour you as you acquiesced and let his tongue battle with yours. It was exactly what you needed, that erotic stimulation that made your toes curl every single time. You were letting him get away with too much. "Not so fast, baby." You panted.

He aimed to catch you in another kiss, but you avoided it, instead leaning away again this time palming your hands up your own body. "Do you want to touch me Chris?"

"Yes y/n, I..."

You pressed your finger against his lips again. "You talk too much sometimes. Yes y/n will do."

His stare was heated, but he kept silent as you rolled and teased your nipples not attempting in the slightest to control your moan. "This feels so good,the cool air on my wet skin, the weight of your eyes, and how hard you are under me. I can't wait to ride you." You massaged your breasts, dragging your lower half against his erection. "The question is...can you be good, Chris? Can you be obedient?"

"Yes, y/n." The phrase was so simple, but it fell so sinfully from those wicked lips of his.

You braced your hands on either side of him, he watched transfixed as you lifted elevated herself to put your chest level with his face. "You can taste me. You can run your tongue over my tits, you can suck on my nipples, but you have to stop when I say and you cannot move your lower half. Do you understand?"

"Yes, y/n."

His mouth was on your flesh before you could prepare for it. He sucked your right nipple with ravenous enthusiasm, it was akin to the way he kissed you, passionate and filthy. He switched the other breast and you whined as your body flushed. You couldn't help but slip one of your hands down your own body. He persisted in his ministrations drawing out another moan as you teased your throbbing clit and his cock in the process. He shuddered at your touch, but didn't thrust beneath you.

You always marveled at the things he could do with his tongue. You wanted him, but on your terms. The torment you were putting yourself through would be worth it. "That's enough." Your voice wavered.

He released your nipple with an obscene pop.

You slipped away from him and though he didn't move he was devouring you with his eyes, it was almost overwhelming. You dragged your nails up his chest and he bit down on the inside of his cheek as your pussy brushed against where he needed you most. His cock pulsed, but other than low moan, Chris remained compliant to your command to be still.

"Do you want me?" You asked coaxing another moan from him as you stroked him slowly.

His teeth were clenched, "Yes, please."

You worked him harder, you were so wet and achy that you wanted to take him in all at once. You were going to ride him hard and having him at your control was all the more intoxicating. You spread your legs a little wider as you moved over his lap. "You're going to keep your hands where they are and stay still."

You shamelessly crashed your body down onto him letting him penetrate you completely as you arched your back cursing at the magnificent thrill of the connection. He hissed and dropped his head back, since he wasn't allowed to do anything else and whimpered your name out like an obscene prayer. You flexed your internal muscles around him and gripped his shoulders. You used the leverage to impale yourself on him over and over as your blood pounded in your ears. You could feel your body already starting to tremble and the sweat start to gather on the nape of your neck.

"Kiss me." You ordered.

His mouth skimmed yours before drawing you in completely with searing desperation.  He shifted beneath you to get a better angle it was like he lit a damn match to your nerves. You could feel your cunt convulsing around his cock and you threw your head back to scream out his name with a plea for him to finish with you.

He released his hands from behind him and yanked your hips to give him some measure of control. He kept you over him, but pounded into you at a brutal pace. Instead of coming down from the high of your orgasm, you felt yourself re-climbing towards that peak. "Don't stop. Don't you dare fucking stop."

He snarled and bit down on your shoulder as he fucked you mercilessly, his hand dipped between your bodies claiming your clit and pinching down, flinging you over the edge a second time in a matter of moments. You were barely aware of his convulsing as he emptied himself into you.

"You are so fucking amazing. Fucking incredible." He kept you enfolded in his arms as he twitched with the last remnants of his orgasm, breathing heavily into you hair. He sounded spent, but still managed to question, "And no complaints, but where did this all come from?"

"Just felt like it. I've got a few things that I'm still wanting to try. I have to keep you on your toes." You placed your hands on his chest, "On that note, we should go to bed."

He chuckled, "Sure thing, but give me a minute, you may have broken me."

[sturnsiolos0]

Carried Away-Chris sturniolo

Listening to Chris talk about his interest was one of your favourite pass-times. The enthusiasm that would fill him whenever he got onto the topic, the passion that would fuel his voice and the excitement behind each gesture as he demonstrated his thoughts. Every time it somehow managed to make him even more endearing in your eyes. More often than not you would catch yourself staring at him, and would hurry to conceal your awe-struck expression lest anyone catch you out.

Listening to Chris also led you down a familiar path of emotions that you now knew the order of off by heart. First, you would be filled with admiration for his passion, which would then stray to a deliberation of how that passion would transfer to an activity that involved less talking - and less clothing - before abruptly colliding with the brick wall of reality and falling down into a well of disappointment at the knowledge of Chris not liking you the same way you liked him.

Chris didn't think of you in that way, didn't wonder about what lay beneath those layers of clothes, didn't dream about lips locked with lips and skin on skin. At least, that's what you told yourself. After all, everyone knows that it's a terrible idea to develop a crush on one of your friends.

The pair of you were sprawled out over the floor of his room, sat opposite from each other, and you try your very best to divert your eyes from staring at Chris's lips as he talks, and down to the disorganized books piled before you instead, computers also placed ahead of you both ready and waiting for you to start your essay. You would have been more than happy to have completed the essay by yourself - it would save you the distractions and heartache at the very least - but Chris insisted on helping with the studying if you helped with the wording, and of course, you couldn't say no to him, nor could you deny yourself the opportunity to listen to Chris's fervent lecturing and get lost in his voice.

You blink as your mind zones back in, just managing to catch the end of Chris's excited chatter. Glancing up, you find him looking over at you from over the top of his own stack of notes, and you flush guiltily when you realise he's caught you in the act of not paying attention. Chris’s cheeks tint pink and he glances away, back down at the open notebook in front of him.

"Sorry, got carried away again."

"No, it's fine." You reassure, smiling wider when his gaze flickers back up to you. "I'm the one who's sorry, my mind was a million miles away."

"Oh, you okay?" He asks, a concerned frown pinching at his brows as he considers your apologetic smile.

"Yeah, now should we make a start on that essay?"

Chris nods, turning his attention to the keyboard of his computer to type the title of the essay at the top of his screen. You continue to read, flitting between textbook pages as you absorb different details before finally finding a passage that you could reword and use as a solid introduction.

"Hey, Chris, how about we use this as a starter?" You ask, before starting to read aloud. Finishing the sentence, you look up expectantly to find Chris shifting uncomfortably on the spot, eyes focused on his lap.

"Chris?" He jumps, head jolting up and shoulders stiffening. "Are you alright?"

"Mhm” Chris hums, looking away. "Okay.." You mumble, not believing him for a second. "Well, what did you think of that for the introduction? We can switch the words around and everything so it doesn't look like we copied it."

"Good idea. I'll write it down." He offers, and you nod gratefully.

"Hmm, okay, so how about…" You re-read the paragraph again, trying to jostle the words about in your mind. When your musings are met with silence besides the whisper of rustling fabric, you look back up from the pages to find Chris once again shuffling where he was sat as he tugs at his sweatshirt. Narrowing your eyes, you straighten your spine and ask him once more, "Are you sure you're alright?"

He nods, swallowing thickly. "Y-yeah, just a bit hot, that's all."

You take note of his flushed cheeks and clammy forehead and nod. "You're right, it is pretty warm in here." You comment, before reaching down and tugging your own sweatshirt off to toss aside, leaving you in the top you had put on underneath. When you realise that Chris is still wearing his sweatshirt and staring blankly at you, your brow furrows. "I thought you said you were hot?"

"Did I? Oh, yeah, no. I'm, I'm fine." He rambles, completely flustered, and you consider him for a moment longer as he scrambles to snatch up his textbook and settle it in his lap before sighing and returning to the essay.

"Right…”

Chris’s breathing picks up, and you glance up with a mischievous grin to find him looking anywhere but at you. Giggling, you wait for him to reply with something, but he simply continues to avoid your eyes, and you stop, amusement falling away as your concern returns full force.

"Chris, seriously, what's wrong? You're like really worrying me now." Dropping your textbooks and shoving them to the side, you begin to crawl across the space between you, only for him to jerk away. The book in his lap tumbles to the floor with a thud in his haste.

All you can manage is a blink of surprise, mouth slightly agape as you realise that Chris is hard, his cock straining against his pants.

"Oh fuck, sorry" He stumbles over his words, and you force your wide eyes away from his crotch to focus on his face, burning red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, honestly, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't be sorry, I don't mind."

Biting your lip, you settle back, glancing down at your own lap as you fight to quell your own arousal. "You sure?" He murmurs. Raising your head, you meet his eye, holding your breath, you slowly shake your head.

"i’m sure." You breathe, the flicker of hope in your eyes mirroring that in his. Chris lets out a exhale, and you offer him a tentative smile, your hands twitching, desperate to reach out even though you force them to remain in your lap. Taking a deep, steadying breath, you steel yourself before whispering, "I could help you."

The room is silent, Chris staring at you with wide eyes that would be comical if not for the fact that you had basically just confessed your thoughts about him. Fidgeting in place, you find yourself holding your breath as the idea of the floor suddenly opening up to swallow you becomes really appealing.

"Really?" He finally asks. You give a small nod as a small grin begins to work its way onto his flushed face.

"Can I..?" You ask, reaching out and gesturing vaguely. Chris pushes up from where he'd been half-collapsed against the bed behind him with a frantic nod and leans forward, pausing a foot away from you. Hesitantly, you settle your hands on his shoulder as you tilt closer, your nose skimming his before your eyes flutter closed and you brush your lips against his. He gasps beneath you, movements unsure as his lips mimic the motions of your own, and you nod slightly in encouragement.

You shift your grasp on his shoulders, one hand slipping around for your fingers to thread into his hair at the nape of his neck whilst the other slides down to grasp at his clothed cock. You begin palming him lightly, a whimper then escaping his lips. Pulling away, an apology on the tip of your tongue, you open your eyes to find Chris frowning up at you.

"Sorry," He mutters, and your brows furrow.

"Don't be, did I take it too far?"

He shakes his head earnestly, the high points of his cheeks flaring crimson. "No, I liked it." He mutters lowly. Chris glances away at the admission, but you reach up to caress the sharp curve of his jaw.

He slowly leans in to close the distance, which you happily meet halfway. Shy explorations of each other's mouths are gradually met with timid brushes of Chris's hands at your sides, uncertain of where to place them. Without pulling away, your hands find his and you direct his hands to cup your breasts; he jumps slightly, breaking the kiss as he tries to catch his breath, and you lean back as you assess his face, although your hands remain on his.

Chris stares with wide eyes at his hands, gazing almost with wonder before his eyes flit up to your face. "Can I take this off?"

You almost giggle at his question, managing just in time to bite your tongue against the urge as you let go of his hands for him to pull off your top. You can feel his fingers tremble, and so you reach up and help him by tugging it over your head and dropping it beside you.

He seems to freeze as he stares, and so you reach out to cup his face before leaning in to kiss him again. It shakes him from his reverie, and he responds with shaky confidence, his hands finding a light purchase on your bare waist a few moments later. A breathy moan of approval escapes you, urging him on, and Chris's fingers begin to trace their way across your skin, gently as if he were handling something fragile, exploring the heated skin of your waist, your stomach, your back. Fingertips trace the band of your bra, ghosting from your spine to your front, where he pauses for a moment before reaching up to cup your breasts.

Whimpering quietly against his lips, you pull Chris closer, pushing yourself against his hands, and a smile tugs at your mouth when he continues on instead of pulling away. Your hands trail down his chest in reciprocation, fingers sliding beneath his sweatshirt, and you pause against his stomach before grazing your fingertips over his erection.

His hips jerk up at the sensation, and you're about to pull away and apologise for taking it too far again when Chris nods desperately, a quiet mumble of 'please' against your lips as he continues to caress and squeeze your tits. You fumble with the buckle of his belt, pulling away for a moment as you struggle, before tugging open his zip and pausing.

"You're sure?" You ask, and he nods. Reaching beyond his pants to caress his cock through his boxers, Chris's hips jerk up once again with a startled groan, and you smile softly before slipping your fingers beneath the elasticated waistband and pulling it down to free his stiff member, the head an angry red as droplets of pre-cum beaded at the tip in anticipation. You bite your lip for a moment before licking your palm and wrapping it around the base of his cock. Glancing up, you find Chris staring down at his lap, enraptured by your touch, and you give an experimental stroke before leaning forward and capturing his lips in another kiss.

Chris’s breathing is a jumble of ragged gasps and whimpers, strangled moans filling the air as you busy yourself with trailing kisses along his jaw. Your hand works its way up and down his length, a gentle twist at the base followed by the swipe of your thumb over the head on the upwards stroke, and he can't help himself but to thrust up desperately into your hand, desperate and needy.

"Do you want more?"

"P-please." He whines, and you give him one final kiss before shuffling backwards on your knees. Chris watches you with bleary eyes as you pull away, a question on his lips that dies immediately when you lean down and drag the tip of your tongue up the length of his cock. "Oh my g-, fuck"

You smile impishly, something about having this affect on Chris filling you with pride, and you give him another slow lick before wrapping your lips around the head and tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue. A loud moan escapes him, and you glance up through your lashes to find Chris struggling to keep his eyes open as his jaw hangs open, all but panting. He rakes one trembling hand through his hair, the other scrabbling with the floorboards, and you snake one hand up his leg, caressing his knee, grazing his thigh and settling in the center of his chest. You push firmly, and he drops backwards, flat against the floor, before you grab his free hand and guide it to the back of your head.

His hesitancy to hold your hair dissipates the moment you hollow your cheeks and bob your head, tongue flat as it laves at the underside of his cock, the throbbing of the vein like a pulse against your tongue. "F-fuck, oh, fuck! Please, please.."

You gradually pick up your pace as he begs, his hips twitching as he tries to restrain himself from thrusting up into your mouth. Part of you appreciates the consideration, although another, filthier part can't wait to drive Chris to the breaking point and have his way without a second thought to anything besides his own pleasure. A needy whine escapes you at the image your mind produces, of Chris writhing on his bed, hair damp with sweat and profanity falling from his sweet lips like a prayer, and his grip tightens in your hair as he chokes on a gasp.

"I-I’m gonna cum, s-shit," Is all he can utter before his hips jerk forwards, bumping into the back of your throat, and his cum spills into your mouth in thick bursts, coating your tongue. Pulling away in surprise, a ribbon of milky cum paints your cheek, and you swallow the contents of your mouth before sitting up.

Chris’s hand drops from your hair to flop onto the ground beside him, and you watch in amusement as he stares up at the ceiling with misty eyes, chest heaving and face flushed. He seems to snap out of it a few seconds later, his eyes flickering to find yours as he sits up, and his blush immediately darkens when he sees himself smeared across your cheek. "Shit sorry-"

Reaching out, you press your fingers to his lips, cutting off his hurried apologies. "No more saying sorry."

"Right, so-" He pauses mid-apology, a bashful smile tugging at his mouth, and you grin back. Chris clears his throat, glancing down and hastily tucking himself back into his boxers before meeting your eyes again, a nervous chuckle escaping him,

"Do you think we could do this again sometime?”

idk how to end these LMAO

[sturnsiolos0]

Study session-Chris Sturniolo

THEY SEEM LIKE SUCH NERDS IN THIS LIKE EWW idk i hate this

You had been sat in the library with your friends studying away together, the pinging of whispered questions and fluttering of book pages as each of you diligently searched for the correct answers a familiar and comforting pass-time. It was a fail-proof method of studying, and you had all gotten on by successfully for months with it.

Someone drilled you with questions, almost an hour in to the rigorous study session. You reel off answers, tapping your pencil absentmindedly against your notes.

"Wrong." An arrogant voice drawled, and you had jolted in surprise at the volume after conversing in only whispers for so long.

"Excuse me?" You squeaked, shock painting your features as you whipped round to catch sight of Chris draped languidly across a library armchair.

One of his brows had arched as he tilted his head back, the arm propped up on the armrest of the chair reaching up to rest his chin on his pale knuckles. "I said, you're wrong."

You had flushed deeply at his sneer, momentarily lost for words before scrambling for a comeback. "I-I'm not." You still felt like crawling into a pit to die every time you recalled that response.

He had laughed, dropping his hand back down before leaning forward, completely ignoring your friends glaring at him. He corrects you, explaining it to you like you were a child. Sniffing indignantly, you had shuffled in your seat a little before muttering your thanks and turning back around to continue with your group, trying your very hardest to pretend that Chris's pale eyes were not carving identical holes into the back of your head.

He didn't interrupt for the short remainder of the session, and when you and friends had all finally left, you found that he had slipped out of the library unnoticed. You had dawdled behind your friends, the weight of the stacked books in your arms dragging you down and diverting all of your attention to the task of not dropping the pile, as opposed to your surroundings. Which was why you had let out a feeble yelp and dropped most of the books in a pitiful heap when suddenly you were dragged into a darkened nook of the wall.

You had clutched the remaining book in your hands like a weapon, ready to hit your captor over the head with the dusty volume, except you had frozen when your eyes locked with none other than those of Chris.

"You're terrible at this you know." He had commented dryly, to which you blinked. "Not as terrible as your idiot friends, but still terrible."

Another blink. There had been too much spite in his words for you to take his comment as a backhanded compliment, but part of you had wondered if that was what he was going for. "Uh, okay. Thanks for letting me know."

He rolled his eyes, and your brows had formed a deep furrow at his next words. "Meet me in the library tomorrow evening at eight o'clock. Don't be late."

And before you had even thought to formulate a reply, he had stalked off, leaving you gobsmacked and with a pile of books to pick up.

Ever since the following night, you had been meeting with Chris for weekly one-on-one study sessions. It wasn't something you outright enjoyed initially; in the beginning, he was snappy and outright degrading to the point that you'd rather have literally anyone else tutoring you instead, and you had asked yourself more than once why he had even bothered to offer - or demand - his time to tutor you. But as the weeks had worn on, he began to calm down, his snappiness mellowing out to a tolerable curtness which only presented itself when he felt particularly frustrated, and he no longer insulted you with every opportunity.

In fact, he had started to praise you. Sort of. He no longer called you an idiot, at least. And your time with him had started straying from the austere regimen of studying and even delving into casual conversation. You had even made him laugh a handful of times , you were certain that his laughter was completely genuine, no traces of arrogance or cruelty to tinge the altogether pleasant sound. Each time, you had fought to quell the sticky heat the light sound had filled you with, swallowing it down alongside the whisper in the back of your mind that hinted towards something more than doing just studying with Chris.

These days, much to your surprise, you actually found yourself looking forward to the weekly study sessions. (🤓)

Every Thursday night at eight o'clock, you would eagerly venture to the darkened corner of the library towards the restricted section to meet him. Which is exactly where you were headed now.

Slipping into the library hall, you scurry through the crammed tables, no more than half of them occupied by hunched groups of antsy students, and dart around stacks of precariously piled books until you come to a stop before your regular hidden table.

Chris is already there, lounging in his chair as he flicks lazily through the thick volume propped before him on the table. He doesn't bother to glance up at you - barely even raises an eyebrow - as he continues to turn pages, and you shuffle over to the chair opposite, only to pause in pulling it out when you find his feet propped up on the cushion of said chair.

"You're late." He announces, ignoring your huff as he remains in the same position. He reaches out his hand to draw the chair beside him out from under the table.

"Now sit." He demands, nodding down at the seat expectantly, and so with little room for argument you find yourself plopping into the chair next to him. You reach into your bag to rummage around for your book, but he reaches out to stop you, a pale hand wrapping around your wrist. You jolt, and his fingers tighten as he tugs your arm away from your bag before letting go and depositing it onto the table top. "No textbook, I'll be testing you today."

"Testing?" You echo, taken off guard. You glance at him curiously, but his face remains as cool and passive as ever.

"We'll start with something easy.“ He says before he begins to test you. Clearing your throat, you begin to answer, but your voice cuts out suddenly. A hand is resting on your knee, the same hand that had been latched around your wrist not all that long ago. Your eyes dart up to his face nervously, but he gives nothing away, continuing to gaze down at the book he was flicking through with his other hand.

"Keep going." Is all he says, and you shuffle in your seat for a moment before nodding, mostly to yourself.

You attempt to continue on with your answer but once again, your voice gives out; Chris's hand all the while had been creeping up your leg, until it had slipped under your skirt. Cool fingertips press faintly into the soft flesh of your bare inner thigh, and you squeak quietly.

"Do you want to stop?" He asks in the same blasè tone, and your mind stumbles to decipher the vague question. He had said it as if referring to studying, but the fingers on your flesh squeezed gently on 'stop', and you take a moment to ponder. You glance over to the boy beside you to find him already staring intently at your face, no trace of cruelty in his expression - only patience as he awaits your response. As if on it's own accord, your head slowly shakes in wordless disagreement. No, you realise you don't want to stop, and he nods once.

"Carry on, then."

Swallowing thickly, you take a deep breath to steady yourself before pushing on with your answer, though your voice trembles with each word. The entire time, his fingers continue to skim up the sensitive flesh, and it's the moment before you almost finish your response that those cool digits finish their journey up your thigh to make contact with the edge of your panties. He’s then suddenly playing with the elasticated edge, rolling the hem between his thumb and forefinger absentmindedly, and your legs are parting in invitation.

Chris is toying with you, enjoying the way you stutter and stumble through your words, relishing at how your breathing hitches and jumps with every inch of skin his fingertips caress. He watches you from the corner of his eye, the crimson flooding the high points of your cheeks that he had admired from afar for so long, even before his first interaction with you in the library all those months ago. Your chest is already heaving with laboured breaths, lips parting as you huff quietly, and a faint smirk finds its way onto his lips as he continues on his exploration.

He's so close to you, his fingers so close to your core that they send jolts of blazing liquid desire coursing through you, and yet all he does is run those slender digits along the elasticated band, the soft pad of his finger brushing the fold of your flesh between the top of your thigh and what lay beyond the soft fabric of your panties. Squirming, you bite down on your lip, trying your best to control your breathing when you remember that you're sat in the library, and your eyes dart around anxiously, even though no one had ever interrupted you back in this corner ever since the first study session.

He asks the next question, but your throat feels bone dry, and you have to swallow several times before your voice successfully squeaks out, your response being littered with whimpers and cusses.

Chris’s fingers had abandoned their grazing of the crevice of your groin to brush a single digit through your folds. Both of his brows shoot up at your exclamation, and he pulls away, much to your disappointment.

"Didn't realise 'fuck' was part of that answer." He comments casually, hand shifting deftly to cup your pussy, fingertips pressing lightly. Your thighs clench in response to the pressure, and a breathless whine slips out of you. "Explain further?”

You bite out answers as he continues to touch you, gasping slightly as he pushes your panties aside to slide two fingers between your wet folds.

Fingertips find your clit, and your breath stutters at the contact. Chris brushes circles against your throbbing clit by nimble fingers before they return to running up and down the folds of your pussy.

"Very good." He murmurs, voice like honey and velvet as he praises you. "Next?"

You can barely think straight, his fingertips are paused at your entrance, and despite your hips desperately pushing forwards, he remains stubbornly still, and you whine, trying to recall the answer.

A single finger presses into you as soon as the answer comes to you, the digit long and sure as you take the first, then the second knuckle, until his entire finger is surrounded by your slick walls.

You moan loudly as he draws his finger out, quickly returning with two, and your hands scrabble with the edge of the table before you, nails biting into the aged wood at the sudden stretch.

He continues prompting you casually,head lulling forward as his fingers begin to move, pumping in and out at a languid pace.

Biting your lip, you fight against the drag of his fingertips and stretch of his knuckles.

Chris begins picking up the pace and grinding the heel of his palm against your clit. A startled moan escapes you, loud and breathy and high-pitched, and your hand flies up to clamp over your mouth in a desperate attempt to quell any similar noises that might betray what you were doing to the rest of the students in the library. Chris freezes, and your eyes, which you can't recall closing, snap open.

"That's cheating." He chides, pausing in his page-turning to tug your hand away from your mouth. His fingers linger on your heated cheek for a moment, eyes like molten silver as they connect with yours, before he turns back to his book. "Next answer?"

You grind out words, his fingers still pressed deep into your pussy.

"What was that?" He asks, and you blink, certain that you were correct.Your confusion is wiped away when he moves his hand, adding a third digit into the equation. Chris pushes them in slowly, and you can feel your stickiness dripping down as he stretches you deliciously.

He puts a pause on his relentless questioning, instead turning his full attention to your pleasure as he builds a slow rhythm, curling his fingers every time he plunges in deep. You whine and huff, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes at the intense pressure he was building within you, and when he returns to adding stimulation to your clit, you almost cover your mouth again to hold back your wanton moans before remembering that Chris had already told you not to.

And so your hand drops to clutch desperately at his forearm, fingers scrabbling with the cotton of his shirt sleeve as you try to ground yourself. He doesn't stop, nor does he push you away, and so you maintain your grip. Your tongue darts out to dampen your lip, and his eyes follow the movement. His facade starts to slip as he leans towards you, and you watch from behind lowered lids as his own lips part.

Suddenly, his fingers are withdrawing from inside your pussy, and a tear of sheer desperation and loss slips from your eye before Chris is swiftly twisting to grab you by the hips and dragging you towards him. Your knees clatter against his as he pulls you onto his lap, legs splaying onto either side as a pale hand snatches you by the hair and yanks you down for an open-mouthed kiss.

It's savage, hot and fast, with teeth colliding and breaths mingling, and your trembling fingers are eager mess up his platinum hair, clutching at the silken strands whilst his free hand fumbles desperately at your shirt to tug it free from its confines of your skirt's waistband. Chris grunts in frustration, redirecting his administrations to harsh biting kisses along your jawline and down your exposed throat, and you catch a glimpse of his furrowed brow before your eyes slip closed once more.

His grip slips from your hair to join his other momentarily, and with one sharp tug, he yanks your shirt off. Your gasp of surprise is immediately swallowed up by a low moan as his mouth works its way along your collar bones before leaving a sucking bite over your left breast. His tongue laves over the mark, soothing the tender flesh before your hiss can turn to one of discomfort, and he pulls back to study it for a second before once again grabbing your hips and lifting you onto the edge of the table, his book forgotten as you knock it away.

"Chris…" You murmur, his name a breathless whisper as you look down at his face. Blown pupils are surrounded by a ring of starlight as he stares up at you, the sharp contours of his usually-pale cheeks tinged with scarlet, and the lips that are so often stretched in a sneer are kiss-swollen and parted as quiet gasps of breath break free. Your fingers loosen their hold on his hair to study his face, tracing his temples, the hollows of his cheekbones, along the razor-sharp jawline. One delicate fingertip ghosts over his lower lip, and he shudders.

Cool hands slide from your hips, mirroring each other as they brush down your outer thighs, pausing to squeeze your knees, and he tugs them apart before trailing back up, fingers splayed to caress as much skin as possible. Your hands drop from his face to brace yourself against the table on either side of your hips. The pads of Chris's thumbs press against your inner thighs, and you tremble with anticipation as he tilts his head lower, gaze travelling over your face, your throat, your exposed chest, down your stomach, to pause on your skirt, half-hitched up your thighs and concealing his hands.

You wait with baited breath, frozen in the moment as you anticipate Chris’s next move. His eyes only flicker up to your face for a split-second before hiking your skirt up around your waist.

"Hold it."

You abide his instruction, one hand sliding further back on the table as you lean back whilst the other clenches the crumpled fabric into a fist. Your blush deepens as he stares down at your exposed panties, the white material soaked through from his attentive administrations on your dripping pussy, meanwhile his palms rest atop your thighs, fingers millimeters away from the sodden material.

"Good girl."

Whining at his hum of approval, you almost miss his smirk before he leans forward in his seat, tugging your panties aside in the same moment. He drags his fire-hot tongue through your folds without warning, lapping up your fluids with the tip, and you jolt forward, eyes clenching tight as you bite back the high-pitched moan he evoked.

"Eyes open." He commands, pulling back a fraction, and your bleary eyes snap open to meet his hyper-focused gaze. "On me."

Nodding desperately, your nails claw at the table surface as he resumes, burying his face in your pussy as he laves at your swollen clit, running the tip of his nose through your folds and teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue. Chris's hands grip your ass, holding you still as your hips threaten to buck against him.

You can only watch Chris for so long before the intense pleasure takes over. Head thrown back, you gasp and moan as quietly as you can, failing to catch sight of Chris staring up at you, watching as your flushed chest rises and falls with each jagged breath drawn, admiring the arch of your throat and the inviting curve of your parted lips.

You can feel your climax drawing near as Chris maintains his attentions, nose nudging your sensitive clit as his tongue fucks you, his pace languid yet the force brutal, and suddenly, that elastic tension drawing taut within your core snaps, and a stuttering moan comes tumbling out of you as you cum over Chris's face. Slumping forward, you bow over him, and it takes you several moments to notice that you had, at some point, grabbed at his hair with both hands to ride his face throughout your orgasm.

Fingers spasming, you slacken your grip on his hair and struggle to sit upright, a blush of mortification washing over you when the reality of the situation crashes down. "I-I-"

He interrupts your stuttering with the simple act of sitting up, and when his eyes meet yours, your voice dies in your throat. Reaching up, Chris absentmindedly wipes away at the lower half of his face with the back of his hand, wet with your arousal, before gripping you by the hips to slip you off of the table and back onto his lap. He leans back, the epitome of elegance despite your panting form draped across his chest, the chair once again his throne as he rights the book he had been reading and resumes flicking through it.

"You didn't finish going through that last question," He points out, voice tinged with accusation and completely contradictory to the gentle ghosting of his finger tips brushing the stray hair from your face. "We'll do it again next week."

should i write them shorter like what are y’all’s thoughts😋⁉️cuz this is kinda rlly long idk