#Christopher sturniolo clips | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hjvi · 20 days ago

Text

Love her madly

Pairing: Bsf!Chris Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Summary: Chris is more than willing to lend a helping hand, even on film.

Warnings: SMUT. MDNI. Camgirl!Reader, fingering, dirty talkin’, all that good stuff.

Word Count: 4.6k

Everyone had a career, whether it was accounting, mechanical engineering, or meteorology - everyone had something that provided monetary income. Something to survive, hell, some people even loved their jobs. For you, work was a bit more personal. You interacted with customers frequently, purchased things to pull in newer eyes, and you were damn good at it.

Questions directed your way on the topic of your career were quickly, and skillfully deflected. Most dropped the subject, willing to delve into the next conversational topic, others were persistent. Your friends were the ladder, childhood companions who knew you better than you knew yourself. They’d nudge your arm with their elbow, teasing you with their theories on what you did for a living.

Hitman, masseuse, dog trainer. All of them were incorrect.

Except for one, one whispered statement into the crook of your neck on a night when all of you found yourself way past the point of inebriation. It had caught you off guard, admittedly sending a flush of heat across your chest and cheeks. If it had been anyone else, you might’ve gotten away from it unscathed.

But you didn’t, because Chris had been the one to guess correctly.

Luckily for you, Chris had no issue keeping a secret he found amusing to himself. However, his keeping of your secret included a few ill-made quips at your expense. Whenever company dwindled low, leaving only the pair of you sitting together, he’d inquire about your line of work. His words always came off hushed, almost near a whisper, but the questions were genuine nonetheless - and his intrigue was palpable.

Usually, your work centered around yourself, toys and props were included every few clips, but it was mainly you on your lonesome. Your viewers seemed to love it enough, and if one tipped particularly heartily, you usually indulged in a little fantasy-making. Every few days you’d check your inbox, mainly to clear out spam messages and the occasional creep, but one caught your eye as you scrolled through the monotonous topics.

A regular, a nearly fifty-year-old man with enough wealth and boredom to stock your tip jar with obscenities tied into compliments. He was kind, and lascivious, but nice enough to leave you genuinely considering his request - it certainly helped that he’d stuck a hefty tip onto the end of it all.

All you had to do was find someone to sleep with, no biggie.

Right?

Whatever method you’d used in the past to hype yourself up had failed you, miserably, leaving you drumming your fingers against the cool tabletop of your booth in feigned hope to ease your worried mind. Out of your friends, and coworkers you were acquainted with, only one struck you with genuine possibility.

Christopher.

You framed your meeting around buying him lunch, which admittedly, you had promised to do after he bought you lunch the past fourteen times. It didn’t take much convincing, and after a whopping thirty-second phone call you found yourself waiting at your local diner.

The complimentary fries were enough to keep your mind distracted, the sharp sting of the salt against your well-bitten lips keeping you settled in the present. You weren’t worried about embarrassing yourself, you had walked in on Chris with enough women to officially blind yourself. The worries flurrying around your mind centered around your friendship with Chris, one you’d had since the both of you were scraggly kids.

“Hey, kid.” Chris quipped with a sharp push to the back of your head, quickly snapping you from your mind with a groan. He only laughed at your reaction, a lopsided smile crinkling the skin by his eyes as he plopped himself down across from you.

“Ass.” You murmured, fighting away your smile with a rub to the back of your head. “Go ahead, order what you want. I’m like, what- fifty dollars in debt?”

“More than that.” Chris replied with a sigh and a reach across the table, grabbing a few fries before tossing them into his mouth. “Who’s counting? I ain’t.”

You had spoken to Chris on nearly every topic under the sun; sex, academics, money, drugs - all of it. Yet you were left feeling uneasy about raising such a premise with a lifelong friend. As you two finished your orders, you found yourself willing your silent mind into words, hopeful that there would be an eloquent way to word wanting your best friend to fuck you on camera.

“Chris-“ You started with a clear of your throat, free hand grasping one of the few remaining fries from the basket between you both. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Chris hummed, not bothering to hide his intrigue as he relaxed back against the leather booth, legs spread in a manner that left nothing to the imagination as the denim of his jeans clung to his upper thighs. You weren’t sure if he noticed your blatant staring, the way your eyes couldn’t decide if they wanted to focus on his parted lips or his parted thighs, he wore a smirk nonetheless.

“You know what I do for work, so I don’t have to explain that part.” Before you could finish your words, he leaned forward, resting his elbows against the cool tabletop between you. “I was wondering if you wanted to film something with me?”

“You want me to fuck you on camera?” He asked, tone full of nonchalance and loud enough to turn a few heads from those seated close to you. You were half-inclined to leap across the center table and clamp your hand over his mouth, but you knew Chris well enough to know that would’ve fueled him more.

So, with a crimson-tinted face, you nodded.

To your surprise, he lifted his drink to his lips with a shrug of his shoulders and a quick, “Alright.”

Relief flooded your senses quicker than relative confusion on his quick decision, your mind not wanting to jinx things or have him second guess it all. Chris had done risky things before just to say he’d done it, maybe he viewed this under the same lens?

Some childlike part of you was left wondering if he still saw you the same. It wasn’t every day that someone called their best friend over for a lunch date, only to spring on in the middle of it all that they wanted you to fuck them on camera.

“Chris-“ You began, clearing your throat halfway through the word. “Do you- do you look at me the same?”

His brow quirked, confusion written clear across his face as he chewed away on another fry. Once he saw you were being genuine, his eyes rolled and he let out a lengthy sigh.

“‘Course I do.” He mumbled. “Everyone does something for cash. I don’t mind lending a helping hand.”

Even though his words ended in enough insinuation to leave you choking back another laugh, you were thankful for him. He was an odd friend, one you were constantly worried about the mental and physical well-being of, despite knowing that his brothers take care of him, but you knew that he’d fucked enough girls in his lifetime to leave him perpetually unbothered.

“Cool.” You chimed, beaming him a genuine smile as you lifted your hips, fishing around in the back of your jeans for your wallet. “Little weird you’re willing to do it with no convincing, but I’ll take it.”

He snorted at your words, leaning back against the cracked leather of the booth with his drink in hand. “You make me sound bad, kid. Just want to help you out is all.”

“Is all?” You asked, placing down enough money to cover your tab and his, along with a hefty tip in a silent apology to your waitress for having overheard Chris’s filthy mouth. “You realize what I’m asking you to do right?”

His eyes flickered up to yours, a look within them you hadn’t seen before, it left your stomach flipping in on itself. With a quick placement of his empty glass against the table, he leaned closer to you.

“I’m going to fuck you on camera.” He stated, once again, not quiet enough for your liking. “And when you post it, you get paid. Helping hand, right?”

A ‘helping hand’ was a different frame of mind for it all, but you agreed with a shallow nod and a quick sip of your drink.

“There are people here.” You whispered as you fished an ice cube from the bottom of your glass. “Don’t need them knowing my business.”

“You aren't seeing these people again.” He quipped with a quick reach across the table for your glass, his thick fingers slinking to the bottom of the cup for an ice cube of his own. “I’ll make it up to you later, how’s that?”

“You better.”

You tried to ignore the cocky smile that overtook Chris’s lax features, the way his lips wrapped around the ice, the droplets of water curving around his wrist. While you lost yourself in the flex of his jaw as he chewed away at the ice, Chris let his mind run wild with everything he could do to make you regret your words.

Your apartment was modest, never something you bragged about, but you felt comfortable and proud enough of it to have people over several times a month. The guys had made their home in your apartment, each having their own designated spot they’d relax in for the time being until they moved onto something else that captured their attention.

Chris was your couch, pressed tight against the exposed brick wall, directly underneath one of the bigger windows overlooking the land beneath the building. He’d always push the window up, leaving the screen down to ensure no bugs crawled in while talkin’ to whoever had come with him to bother you.

Just as you assumed he would, he kicked off his boots and slung his jacket over the back of a nearby armchair, giving you a short-lived grin that sent your stomach careening in on itself before he made his way down the adjacent hallway. You followed behind him, abruptly kicking off your shoes as well before padding after him.

“Chris?” You called, watching as his form disappeared behind the beads you kept stapled to your doorway. They served as a makeshift curtain, only Matt and Nick seemed to love them as much as you did, Chris always swatted at them - not that day, however. “Hell are you doin’ in there?”

As you parted the beaded curtain to the side, you caught sight of Chris making himself comfortable on your bed, legs sprawled out before him as he struck a match against the side of his belt buckle. His blown pupils gave away his internal thoughts, so you decided against wasting time. You already had a set-up near your bed, it took no time at all to have everything propped up, and with the click of your camera, Chris looked up to you.

“Strip.” He murmured, a sharp inhale following the order as he took a drag from his cigarette. “Come closer, darling. You want the camera to see, don’t you?”

You nodded, moving closer to the end of your bed. His hips lifted as he not-so-discreetly adjusted himself through his jeans. The sight of his cock straining against his jeans sent your confidence through the roof, and with little more than a smile directed his way, you lifted your shirt up fingers softly running up your ribs and over your head, letting the fabric fall to your feet.

“Shit-“ He breathed, eyes widening as you began unfastening your belt. You didn’t try to contain the giggle that left you at his comment, you knew you’d feel the same in only a matter of minutes.

“C’mere.” He murmured around the filter of his cigarette, a soft smile toiling with the corner of his full lips. You listened without wasting a second, kicking your unbuttoned jeans off your thighs until they were a crumbled mess against the hardwood floor.

His eyes watched you as you moved over to your bed, how your chest flushed a deep crimson, the heat spreading up your throat until it turned your cheeks the same hue. You noticed the faint lift of his hips as you sunk to your knees, the soft bedspread enveloping your legs as you crawled over to him.

“Sit between my legs, baby. Want them to see how pretty you look.”

You were used to holding yourself to a certain degree whenever you filmed your videos, a personal disconnect from your real self. Chris had done away with it, his eyes coaxing you in, deep brown hues echoing each pant that left your parted lips. As you moved to sit between his legs, he hooked an arm around your middle, effortlessly pulling your back flush to his chest.

The smoke from his cigarette left your eyes watering, but all you could focus on was the steady throb of arousal between your legs, every atom of your body screaming for his touch. Your hips shifted, twisting, inadvertently brushing your ass back against his lap. You felt the rumble of his breath circling his chest, the reflection of his head falling back reflected on your nearby camera lens.

“Stop that.” He laughed out, words muffled as he kept his cigarette steady. “Already hard, baby. Gonna make me cum before I get to show you off.”

Wherever Chris had learned to talk filthy, you made a mental note to pay homage to. Each word sent shock waves through you, leaving your cunt clenching down around nothing, cum dripping down the cleft of your ass. As you tried to refocus yourself, Chris leaned back behind you, snubbing his half-gone cigarette on a nearby windowsill.

With a slow exhale, his hand moved to cup your throat, tilting your head back to face the camera fully. You could see yourself in the reflection of the lens, face, and chest flushed, lips parted - pitiful.

“Come on, pretty girl.” He urged, tone a centimeter away from being an all-out beg. “Spread your legs, show them your cunt.”

He spoke of your body as if he’d seen it, mapped out your being beneath his skilled tongue, and left kisses in places unseen by your own eyes. You obeyed, lips parted in a silent moan as his hands helped your thighs apart with a gentle push to your inner knees. His chin rested on your shoulder, eyes fixed on yours in the reflection of your camera lens.

“Look at that.” He whispered, tilting his head to see you, a coy smirk written across his face. “Soaking wet already, huh? That desperate?”

You watched yourself, your cunt twitching around nothing, dripping cum onto the bed sheets below. His hands moved from your knees, slowly caressing your trembling thighs until his fingertips brushed against the swell of your sex.

His left hand slipped back, fingertips digging into the hollow before your hipbone, pressing down in a manner to keep you steady as his right slipped down your cunt, fingers parting your soaked folds with ease. You allowed your head to fall back, eyes shutting in a relief so packed with bliss you could��ve thanked Chris until your voice gave out.

With a chaste kiss to your shoulder, his middle and ring finger pressed into your cunt, gently curling up in a ‘come hither’ motion. Your hips rocked into his touch, pulling his fingers deeper, your body doing a better job at voicing your neediness than your vocal cords ever could.

“Think you could cum from this?” He asked, even though you were both keenly aware of the fluttering of your cunt around his digits, the pants of breath that left you with each push of his fingers. You nodded, and he smiled. “Want to make you cum on my fingers first.”

You turned your head, tucking your face into the crook of his neck as his fingers plunged into your cunt, the heel of his palm brushing against your clit. You lifted your arm, curling it around the back of his neck, holding onto him as though you were petrified he’d vanish beneath your grasp.

A ravenous pleasure blossomed in your lower stomach as you rocked your hips into his palm, small pants and whimpers of his name tumbling past your parted lips. He whispered praise against the shell of your ear, gaze set on the reflection of you in the camera lens, legs spread, hands clinging to his forearm and along the back of his neck, cunt stretched around his fingers.

“Christoph-“ You whined, voice breaking off into another desperate moan as your cunt fluttered around his fingers. He hummed, pressing a kiss to your temple as he pushed his fingers deeper, curling them upward with each thrust. He sent you careening over the edge with a gentle circle of his thumb around your clit, continuing the same blissful motion as you cried out his name into the crook of his neck.

“That’s it-“ He hushed, cheek pressed to your temple. “Good girl, so fuckin’ good.”

Cum dripped from your cunt, dampening the comforter beneath you. Chris caught sight of it in the reflection of the camera lens, pride swelling in his chest at the realization that he’d made you cum hard enough to coat his fingers and the bedding in your arousal. Only when your moans broke off into desperate pleas did he slow his movements, fingers still gently rocking forward into your cunt, leaving you teetering on the edge of mind-shattering oversensitivity.

He lifted his arm after slowing his movements to a halt, exposing his glistening fingers to the warm sunlight pouring through your bedroom window. You watched with bated breath as he brought his fingers to his lips, his eyes locked on yours. It was as if the air was knocked from your lungs when he parted his lips, pushing the soaked digits against his tongue. You could hear the deep-set groan reverberating within his chest as your saccharine taste coated his tongue, all but making him drool as he sucked your taste from his fingers.

His left hand moved to cup your jaw, tilting your head back as he lowered himself to meet your lips. His right grabbed at your breast, smearing his saliva along with the remnants of your arousal across your skin as his lips met yours. The moan that fell from your lips was pure, completely instinctive. He swallowed it with a moan of his own, fingers tightening their hold as they slipped down to cup the curve of your throat.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, the muscle swirling around your own, ensuring you tasted yourself just as he had. It was lewd, debaucherous, leaving you clenching around nothing as you sucked on his tongue. His fingers tweaked your nipple in between rolling squeezes of the tissue, you couldn’t help but notice his tongue moving in sync with his fingers.

“Chris-“ You panted, eyes fluttering open to meet his, recognizing the same carnal desire reflected in his irises. He nodded in response to your unspoken question, placing another chaste kiss on your lips as his hands hurriedly moved to unbutton his jeans. You smiled into the kiss, elated laughter bubbling in your chest as your hands moved with his, nearly tearing the fabric of his boxers in haste to have him.

It was as if there was no camera, no incentive to keep you both pawing at each other besides the heavy lust hanging in the air, polluting your mind into nothing but a heavy daze of desire. Your cunt ached, desperate for some form of attention, but you refused to appease yourself - you wanted Chris, and by God, you’d have him.

“C’mon.” He urged, wetting his lips as he reached behind him for a pillow. You hardly understood what he wanted from you before he pushed the pillow beneath your hips, his free hand settling against the small of your back, gently guiding you over the bunched-up fabric. You could feel his fingers spreading your folds as you settled yourself against the pillow, face turned toward the camera.

“So fucking wet.” He whispered, tone riddled with equal parts amazement and disbelief. A wet squelch sounded through the silence as he pushed his middle and ring finger into your cunt, a sharp hiss leaving him at the feeling of your warmth enveloping his digits. Part of you wanted to be pissed, to yell at him for not fucking you, but the way his fingers curved inside of you left you pushing your hips back against his hand.

As soon as you grew accustomed to the feeling of his fingers writhing inside of your cunt, he pulled them free, using your arousal to lubricate his already leaking cock. You pushed your face flat to the mattress, arching your back in a display so riddled with desperation it made Chris’s cock twitch. His hand grasped at your hip, steadying your trembling form as he swiped his tip along your folds.

He was a performer, a natural before the camera. Each movement was fluid, and effortless in a way that made you pine for him. With a gentle push forward of his hips, he bottomed out inside of you, stretching your cunt in a manner that left you whining into the duvet. You could hear him steadying his breathing, hands tightening their hold on the flesh of your hips.

“Move-“ You ordered, or more so begged. “Please.”

He responded with a grunt and a sharp push forward of his hips, bullying the tip of his cock against your cervix. Once he was sure you had grown accustomed to his size, he pulled out, pushing back in rough enough to force the air from your lungs. You wove your hand down beneath yourself, circling your middle and ring finger around your swollen clit.

“So fuckin’ tight-“ He rasped, right hand releasing your hip for a moment to smack at the plush of your ass, leaving a red imprint of his hand behind. You felt his hand smoothing up your back, fingers pressing into the muscle of your upper back before slinking around your shoulder.

His hand wrapped around your throat, fingers pushing your jaw up, forcing your attention onto the camera in front of you.

“Look at the camera, doll.” He grunted, fingers tightening around the curve of your throat. “Let them see how you look taking my cock.”

You could only moan in response, the noise strangled due to his impeccably tight hold around your throat. You pushed your hips back against him, eyes bleary with tears from the combination of sheer pleasure and lack of oxygen.

His thumb pushed into your mouth, pressing against the wet muscle of your tongue as he fucked you. You sucked at the digit, your moans concealed for nearly a second before his hips jerked against you, pushing his cock deeper into your cunt. You could feel your spit dripping down your chin and onto your breasts, breaths haggard the longer he kept you pressed back against him.

Your breathy moans were no deterrent for him, his thumb against your tongue all but forcing your noises to be heard by anyone nearby. His free hand held you by your hip, his thighs slamming against yours with each eager thrust of his hips. You could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix, deep enough to knock the wind from your lungs.

Pleasure swirled within your lower stomach, settling heavy. The chase of your climax urged you to push your hips back, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing throughout your bedroom. Your cunt squeezed around his cock, each roll of his hips leaving you both breathless, hands grasping desperately at each other as your arousal built to a fever pitch.

“Chris-“ You whined, tone carrying enough of a warning for Chris to trail kisses along the hollow of your throat in between rough groans of your name. Your hand slipped between your slick thighs, fingers finding home against your clit where you eagerly swirled your digits. “-I’m gonna cum.”

“C’mon.” He urged as he smoothed his hand down your side, grasping the other side of your hip. “Cum for me, baby”

A broken, garbled mess of a moan tore its way from your throat. Your eyes squeezed shut as pure euphoria shot through your veins, igniting every facet of your being as your cunt spasmed around his cock. You could hardly register the curses that slipped past his gritted teeth, how his hold on your waist tightened as he fucked himself into you, pushing his cock deeper.

Your hands reached behind you, blindly fumbling against his dampened skin as he continued to bully his cock into you, fucking you into mind-numbing oversensitivity. His hands moved from your hips, both lacing around your wrists, pulling you back to meet each eager thrust of his hips. Your moans broke off, well past incoherent, delving into the grounds of depravity.

“Sound so good for me, doll.” He rasped, his voice mirroring yours in its spent nature. “Want me to fill your cunt up, huh? Don’t you?”

Without giving you a moment to reply, not that you could anyhow, given your fucked-out state, he buried himself to the hilt inside of your still spasming cunt. You felt his grip on your wrists tighten to an almost painful degree as he grunted out your name, his hips jerking with each mutter that fell past his lips. Warmth flooded your cunt, spilling down your inner thighs, leaving a mess beneath you.

As soon as Chris released your wrists you crumbled to the bedsheets below, deep, ragged lungfuls of air heaving your chest as your mind tried to remain in the present. Chris kissed along your spine as his hands smoothed up your sides, tracing your ribs, muttering words of praise lost on your fatigue-ridden mind.

“Doll?” He asked as he shifted behind you, left hand moving to cup the underside of your jaw, gently tilting your head back to meet his gaze. “You alright? Didn’t fuck you dumb, did I?”

You shook your head as you smiled, a small bout of laughter following the movement as you threaded your fingers through his, feeling your damp skin against your pulse point. His words didn’t shock you, if anything you might’ve been worried if he babied you for too long without jabbing at you - that was simply his nature.

“Alright-“ He groaned, moving his hand from yours to pat your cheek as he moved from your bed. “Stay here, I’ll go get a washcloth.”

As the bed dipped from his departure you took a moment to catch your breath, stretching your legs out beneath you. You were sure you could’ve fallen asleep right then and there if it hadn’t been for Chris’s return.

The mattress dipped beside you and a cool washcloth wiped away at your inner thighs and cunt. Chris cleaned himself off, tossing the dirtied washcloth to a nearby corner of your room before moving back to your side.

“Turned your camera off.” He stated as he stretched his arms over his head, leaning back afterward to retrieve his nearby pack of cigarettes. You responded in a thankful hum, or what you attempted to make sound thankful. “Figured you wouldn’t want to use your legs for a while.”

Cockiness laced heavily in his words, but you were in no state to dispute it - even if you did, you couldn’t deny he’d fucked you until your legs were jelly. You glared at him through your tired eyes, taking note of his self-satisfied grin as he leaned back against your bedroom wall, a lit cigarette hung between his lips.

“Ain’t arguing, are ‘ya?” He asked, to which you swatted at his exposed thigh with a stifled laugh. “Hittin’ ain’t denyin’.”

“Shut up.” You responded, not bothering to hide your smile. “You’re too cocky for your own good.”

“Still ain’t sayin’ I’m wrong.”

A/N: I'm reposting this fic from my old account onto here:))) thank you so much if you take the time to read this!

tags - : @swagalicious260 @watercolorskyy @coquettechris @lovesturni0l0s @christmastreecake @ellbowmacaroni @blog-luvdance @sophand4n4 @meg4-matt44 @mommymomm @chriss-slutt @humpster35

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