#Henrycavillsmut

[xdirtyxlittlexgirl]

More Than a Love Letter (Part II)

Pairing: Henry Cavill X Reader

Summary: Henry is away shooting and has been super stressed lately, so you come up with the perfect plan to surprise him

Warnings: Fluff, angst, smut, daddy kink, masturbation, phone sex, sex toys, daddy kink, dom male, sly exhibitionism, dirty photography, voyeurism, odour kink, and spanking

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A day later, you nervously paced around your apartment, waiting for Chelsea, your best friend and also a very talented photographer, to arrive. You couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and anticipation. You had been meticulously preparing for this day, wanting to create something special for Henry that would convey your love and desire for him like never before. The thought of posing in front of the camera in lingerie and even without any clothes made your heart race with both nervousness and thrill.

When Chelsea finally arrived, you greeted her with a warm hug. She had been your friend for years, and you knew you could trust her to capture the most intimate moments with artistic sensibility. She set up her camera and lighting equipment, while you fussed over your appearance, smoothing down your hair and adjusting the straps of your lingerie.

"Are you ready for this?" Chelsea asked with a reassuring smile, sensing your nerves. You took a deep breath and nodded, "I am. I want to make this special for Henry." Chelsea nodded in understanding, and she began to guide you through the shoot, suggesting poses and angles that would bring out your natural beauty and sensuality. Currently, you were in a red lingerie set, that barely covered anything. Your man loved it like that. Chelsea suggested you take off the bra, and cover up with your hands, being just in your panties. Her gentle and encouraging words helped you relax as you posed on the bed, feeling vulnerable yet empowered at the same time.

"Arch your back a little more, that's it," Chelsea said, her eyes focused on capturing the perfect shot. "Look into the camera with those gorgeous eyes of yours. Show Henry how much you desire him. Remove the hands, pinch your nipples. Make them hard for him. Just like that." She encouraged and you followed. It was as if with each word of hers your inhibitions were leaving your body, making you bolder. You followed Chelsea's instructions, letting your body express your love and longing for Henry. You stretched out your legs, pose just in your panties.

"Beautiful!" Chelsea exclaimed, her enthusiasm contagious. "You're doing great, babe. Henry will be blown away by these photos. How about we try something bolder?" She suggested a d you nodded. She was definitely good with her work you thought. She suggested you take off everything and just pose in the necklace he gave you. Just like Rose from Titanic, and you did. She even took some candid shots of you taking off your clothes, spreading your leg wide, your pussy well on display. This was obviously becoming more than just a boudoir shoot, but you were enjoying it. As the shoot progressed, you felt a growing sense of confidence and liberation.

"Okay, let's try something a little different now," Chelsea said determined . "I have an idea that I think you'll love." You watched with curiosity as Chelsea rearranged the sheets on the bed, creating a cozy and inviting setup. She suggested you lie down and let your hair cascade over your shoulders while intertwining yourself in the sheets. You hesitated for a moment, but then you decided to trust Chelsea's vision. As you settled into the sheets, feeling their softness against your skin, Chelsea started capturing some of the most sensual and intimate shots of the entire shoot. She slowly guided you into some of the sex positions like doggy style, sidh your ass puckered on display. You let yourself get lost in the moment, forgetting about the camera and fully immersing yourself in the experience. You even started fingering yourself moaning, as Chelsea just kept clicking. She then put some glitter in your hands and as you played with your nipples, and clit, moving your hands across your whole body, you ended up creating a beautiful art peace on yourself.

This was definitely getting wild and you had never felt this empowered before. You bit your lip as she even took some shots of you cleaning yourself up in the shower, and then later with sex toys and hand cuffs. There you were, ond if your hand tied to the bed, while you pushed a plug in your butt with the other. "Mmm, were you a pornstar or something? You're doing it like a professional girl." Chelsea said, but kept clicking without trying to make it awkward for the two of you. The chemistry between you and the lens was palpable, and you knew these photos would be incredibly special.

After the shoot, as you and Chelsea reviewed the images together, you were amazed at how beautifully they had turned out. Each photograph was a work of art, capturing your love and desire for Henry in a way that words could not express. You were blushing at some of the slutiest shots you took, but ended up feeling so confident in that. You were grateful to Chelsea for her skill and artistry in capturing these precious moments, and you knew that Henry would cherish these photos for a lifetime.

"Thank you, Chelsea," you said with tears in your eyes, "These photos mean so much to me. I can't wait to see Henry's reaction when I give him the album!" You said as she gave you a big hug all the while convincing you to star in a porn movie, or maybe atleast do something like 365 days with Henry. Although that does sound like a nice idea, now that you think about it.

~

Finally the day was here, and you had sent off the package to him. You anxiously awaited Henry's call, your heart fluttered with excitement. You had carefully coordinated with his manager to set up a box in his room and run a hot bath for him, complete with bath bombs, oils, and all the things you knew he loved. You couldn't wait to hear his reaction when he saw it all.

Finally, your phone rang, and it was Henry's familiar face on the screen. He looked tired, but his smile brightened as soon as he saw you. You greeted him with warmth and affection, telling him to return to his room and relax. You could see the curiosity in his eyes as he followed your instructions. As Henry entered his room, he was surprised to see a huge box with a note that said, "Open me after the bath." He made his way to the bathroom, and his eyes widened in astonishment as he saw a hot bath waiting for him, just like how you would set it up at home. The scent of the bath bombs and oils filled the air, reminding him of you. He couldn't help but grin, knowing that you had thought of every little detail to make him feel loved and cherished.

Just as Henry was about to undress and slip into the bath, his phone rang, and it was you. He answered eagerly, and your voice sounded as soothing and enchanting as ever. You could tell he was already in a better mood, and it made your heart swell with happiness.

"Hey, babe," Henry said, his grin widening, "You won't believe what I found in my room. It's like you're here with me." You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I'm glad you like the surprise, love. I wanted you to have a little piece of home while you're away." Henry's voice softened, and he couldn't help but express his love for you. "You're amazing, my princess. I can't believe how lucky I am to have you. Honestly, I don't deserve you babygirl" Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a blush rise to your cheeks. "You deserve every bit of it my lovely man. Now, go ahead and relax in the bath. You deserve it."

Henry smiles and slips into the warm water, and you could see the tension melting from his body as he sighed in contentment. You both sipped on your favorite wine, and the conversation flowed effortlessly, just like it always did when you were together. "I was having probably the worst days on set, and it was as if you knew it." He says as you chuckle. "Always here to rescue my man" You say as he chuckles and all you could do was admire that. Both him and you didn't know he needed this so much. Just the gesture made him feel so much better, and seeing him happy made your heart feel light, as if a huge weight was lifted off of it.

As you talked, you couldn't help but imagine Henry's bare body in the bath, and the thought made you smirk. You knew he was equally captivated by your presence, and you could sense the desire and love he had for you through the screen. It made your heart swell with affection. "I wish you were here with me," Henry said softly, his eyes filled with longing. You felt the same way, but you knew that this care package was the next best thing to being physically together. "Me too, Hen," you replied, your voice filled with tenderness, "But just imagine, we're sharing this bath together, even though we're miles apart." Henry's eyes sparkled, and he nodded, his fingers tracing the rim of his wine glass. "I can feel your presence, princess. It's like you're right here with me."

You smiled, feeling overwhelmed with love for this man who meant everything to you. "I'd never leave a good looking man like yourself alone anyway." You chuckle as he laughs with you. Henry's gaze never left the screen as he nodded, his eyes filled with adoration.

As the water grew colder, you both decided to get out of the bath. You quickly changed into one of his oversized shirts. "Enjoying the view Cavill?" You say chuckling and giving an intentional wiggle to your bum. "Yes ma'am" That's all he said as he gawked at you. "Go change and you can finally open the package." He chuckles and changes into his sleeping shorts, then sets up the camera so you can both see each other. You watch as he opens the box, and your heart swells with excitement.

He looks through the notes from your family, smiling at the sweet messages and even laughing at the funny ones. But then he reaches the letter you wrote him, and his expression changes. He reads it slowly, and you can see his eyes light up as he takes in every word. You watch him with a smirk on your face, knowing that you've turned him on with your words. As he finishes reading, he looks up at you with a smile and says, "Damn, babygirl. You know just how to make me feel loved and desired at the same time."

He then reaches the naughty things. Grabbing your panties with excitement as he immediately brought it up to smell it. "Fuck" He growled and you can see the bulge growing in his shorts as you squirmed yourself. He was addicted to your smell. He then reached for the fleshlight and lube and then looked at you. "You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?" He said, as he pulls it open, and slowly drives a finger in it, giving you a show. This was turning you on like crazy and you could feel the wetness building in your pussy. "God, baby," he says, a little breathless. "You're killing me here." He adds as you just squirm with all his teasing. He then retracts himself from teasing you and finally smirks seeing the candle you gave him, he immediately lights it up and a moan escapes his mouth. He is awfully hard. "God baby you really thought it all through. Didn't you?" He adds as you can't help but blush at his reaction. You know just how much he loves it when you take charge and get a little naughty. It's one of the things that makes your relationship so fun and exciting.

As he continues to look through the package, he comes across the boudoir album you sent him. "What is this...?" He lifts the album and flips through it."Holy fuck" He's almost shocked as he looks through the pages, and you can tell he's having a hard time keeping his composure. He has so much love for you, but at the same time, he's incredibly turned on by what he's seeing, and it's visible by the tent in his shorts. At the back of the album you had also put a QR code through which he could easily view the digital copies. Something you thought would come in handy for him.

You chuckle as he looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "God, babygirl," he says again. "You really outdid yourself with this one. You are the best, you know that?" You smile, feeling proud of yourself for being able to bring him so much joy and pleasure. "I'm glad you like it, Henry. I wanted to do something special for you, something that would make you feel loved and desired." "Well, you definitely succeeded in that," he says, his voice low and husky. "I can't wait to see you in person and show you just how much I appreciate everything you do for me." You feel your own body responding to his words, and you know that you're both feeling the same intense desire for each other. You can't wait to be with him again, to feel his body against yours and to lose yourself in the pleasure of his touch.

"Strip baby girl" He says as he very quickly just grabs the fleshlight, lube, your panties, and the album. You nod as you get rid of the only articls of clothing on your body, his tshirt. "Fuck you're beautiful baby" He says as he sets himself up on the bed and palms himself giving you a view of his cock. "Mm, baby open the second drawer and take out your vibrating dildo." He commands as you just nod. He just wanted to rip through the screen and eat that juicy pussy of yours that you left on diplay for him. He takes a huge whiff of your panties and growls pouring lube on him and palming himself. "Fuck sweetheart." He puts the digital copy of the boudoir on his TV screen as he started to push the tortch down his hard pulsating cock. "Mm fuck my love, take the vibrator, and rub it on your clit." You do as he says like a sex drunk doll awaiting to be pupiteered. "Mm slap your pussy with it whore. Just like you beg me to do it." He growls moving the torch on his cock as he sees the live view and also the images you sent him. He can't belive that it's you. That it's his girlfriend, that he owns that beautiful baby. "Mm put it in you princess imagine my cock in you, stuffing you up" "Mm yes daddy, fuck. This is nothing compared to you" You growl, the dirty words definitely riling you up further, as you start to move it in and out of you. Henry could control that dildo through his phone and he increases the vibration as you start to move it. "Take it like the good slut you are for your daddy princess, take it well". "Jesus fucking Christ Daddy. Fuck!" You moan loudly as he instructs you to grab the buttplug and slowly slip it in as well. You just follow his instructions as he beats his meat. "Fuck baby". He looks at the pictures and just as the shot of you spreading your ass standing naked on the window pops up, Henry loses it and cums hard, as you do too. "Fuck princess" he growls as his hot cum spurs out onto the fleshlight, he takes one last sniff of your panties before looking at you in the screen, a panting mess. You catch your breath. "Fuck daddy, that was good" you say as you were about to pull out the buttplug too, but he stops you. "Tut tut tut, that stays. All night long. Sleep with it in you. That's the first thing I want to see when I call you tomorrow." He says in his husky deep voice still trying to catch his breath.

As you two ride out your orgasm you can see the physical satisfaction on his face. He's happy and much more relaxed. You realise that this is the first time in a while you've seen him so relaxed. You can see his keep everything aside, as he switches off his television. Sleep is heavy in his eyes. "This was truly amazing baby. I mean it. Not just the package but the date, and this. I am so lucky to have you in my life my love. I can't wait to see you. I love you so freaking much." He says as your heart gets filled with love and joy and you chuckle as you see him tuck himself in the bed. "Mm I can't wait to see you either. I love you so much more. Go off to bed now. I know you're sleepy." You can see the struggle in his eyes as he almost fights to keep them open. "Goodnight my love. I love you* He says as he knocks out and you chuckles disconnecting the call. You were happy and proud as you wen to bed yourself. You wanted to amke your man feel special and you did, and that made you so much more happier. You loved him dearly and so did he. You finally slipped to bed moaning the rest of your night in the sleep because of the buttplug.

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A/N: Please leave feedback. It really helps to see the encouragement. Thanks. <3

[multiverse-is-real]

ℍ𝕀𝔾ℍ𝕊ℂℍ𝕆𝕆𝕃 𝕊𝕎𝔼𝔼𝕋ℍ𝔼𝔸ℝ𝕋𝕊 [𝘏𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘺 𝘊𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳] - prologue (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1308204238-%E2%84%8D%F0%9D%95%80%F0%9D%94%BE%E2%84%8D%F0%9D%95%8A%E2%84%82%E2%84%8D%F0%9D%95%86%F0%9D%95%86%F0%9D%95%83-%F0%9D%95%8A%F0%9D%95%8E%F0%9D%94%BC%F0%9D%94%BC%F0%9D%95%8B%E2%84%8D%F0%9D%94%BC%F0%9D%94%B8%E2%84%9D%F0%9D%95%8B%F0%9D%95%8A-%F0%9D%98%8F%F0%9D%98%A6%F0%9D%98%AF%F0%9D%98%B3%F0%9D%98%BA-%F0%9D%98%8A%F0%9D%98%A2%F0%9D%98%B7%F0%9D%98%AA%F0%9D%98%AD%F0%9D%98%AD-%F0%9D%98%B9-%F0%9D%98%B3%F0%9D%98%A6%F0%9D%98%A2%F0%9D%98%A5%F0%9D%98%A6%F0%9D%98%B3?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=vcqvill&wp_originator=BP%2BPvNoK5qbe2ee6Wo3e5mwoga8Ks7PnhA0Ixb1SqbQ0xHpqZTF%2FEp7bFMtxntGlzbtFtYuTUhbDoVGZZHoK9BZh7q2azJR4TKNw0wv4neh%2F%2BBidfC5o5HJGJcr9YwGG Henry Cavill is just a highschool school and every girl likes him in the school. Y/N is a new girl in school and she is finding friends but Henry bullys her. What will happen between them??? Lets find out.

[itstheimpossibledream]

Snow Day Secret

Please do not post or use my fics without my permission

Summary: Drabble where you and Henry get stuck inside for a snowday, and he comes up with a surprise to keep you both entertained.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Ofc

Warning: DaddyDom!Henry Cavill, Fingering, ddlg themes 

“Can I see it?”

“Not yet.” he blocks you from entering the room.

“Why won’t you just tell me what you got me? I’m sure it’s not this serious.”

He steps into you, cupping your face, “sweetheart, you have to be more patient. Also, your pajamas are ridiculous”he laughs.

“O come on! These are adorable!” you said gesturing towards the butt flap of your footie pajamas. He responded with an eyeroll, ever impressed by your childish antics. “Well can we watch a movie or something? Since I’m not allowed to walk about my own house now?”

“Sure.” he kisses you on the forehead before following you downstairs and into the livingroom. You sit on his lap, curling up to him; he cradles you as you inhale the warmth of his chest. 

Elf wasn’t exactly the romantic holiday movie you had wanted but, both of you had seen it so many times that at this point it was merely a courtesy to glance at the screen.

It wasn't a surprise when his hands began to wander. You loved that he never tired of your body no matter how much it changed. You ignored, as he delicately undid the flap towards the back of your pajamas. He calmly palms your butt cheek, letting out a low growl as he does.

You ignore it, pretending not to love the fact that he can’t control himself around you.

He moves his hand further into the space behind you,toying with wetness at your core.

You let out a small whimper as he dips one finger inside of you.

“Shhhhhh, hush  baby. You know you can’t be loud like that.”

You look up at him,eyes wide; hating when he toys with you in that way. You were never able to keep quiet when it came to him.

He pumped his finger in and of you, patting your hair softly while your eyes plead with him for more. You are sure you know he’s growing between his legs but his face doesn’t let on.

“You’re doing so well little girl.” his voice rumbles lowly , and you can’t help but feel your stomach flip. 

You can feel how wet you are, soaking his fingers but, you know it’s only a tease. And he knows you never cum from just riding on his fingers.     

“Please can you fuck me daddy?” you ask.

“Shhhh.shhh be patient I told you.”

“Well can we atleast go upstairs?”you ask, pushing his limits.

“I said be quiet.” he warns,grabbing your chin in his hand. Your eyes search his face and then you lean in to kiss him. 

He holds you back by your chin again stopping you from reaching his lips.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” he asks, finally leaning in to let you kiss him. 

“Yes daddy.”you nod excitedly jumping up.

He almost laughs at your vigor before asking you to go upstairs and put on the outfit he’s laid out in your bedroom. 

A smile spreads over your lips as you race to the room, knowing the deviant things his mind can conjure up. 

[wondersofdreaming]

Sex on Fire - 3

Co-written with @radaofrivia​

Characters: AU Captain Syverson - Gynaecologist, dr. Syverson x female reader

Word count: 7.601

Warnings: NSFW! Overthinking. Talking to a dog. Flirting. Nervous energy. A little awkwardness. Smut. 69. Making love. Love. Fluff. The end.

Author’s note: This story was co-written with the lovely @radaofrivia​​ - who wrote the beautiful smutty parts.

The dividers are made by @firefly-graphics

This story is dedicated to all the women who struggle with pain. It doesn’t matter where that pain is, but know that you are not alone.

Please go enjoy her stories here:

Rada’s Masterlist

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

MY MASTERLIST

Sex on Fire Masterlist

Feedback is appreciated.

“What have I gotten myself into?

You stood in front of the mirror, having changed into the fifth dress, but nothing you had tried on was good enough for a date with the hottest doctor in town. A loud groan left your lips, making your sister peek inside your room.

“Everything alright in here?” she asked, looking over the room. Clothes were spread everywhere, shoes thrown all over, and you pacing in front of the closet, desperately trying to find something fitting to wear. “Looks like a tornado went through.”

“I have nothing to wear! So please, either come help me or get out,” you snapped. You heard the angry tone in your voice and turned around to face your younger sister, who looked mildly annoyed at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like a bitch.”

“Care to tell me what’s going on? I thought you were excited to go out with the dashing doctor?” She asked and went to sit on the only available space on the bed.

You picked up the five discarded pieces of clothing.

“This,” you held up the first dress, “is too short. He’ll think I’m a whore.”

“Then wear leggings underneath it. Do I need to remind you, sissy, that he has already seen you butt-naked?”

You glared at your sister, feeling she didn’t understand your situation that this date had to be perfect.

What if our attraction was a fluke?

“This,” you showed the second dress, “is too long. He’ll think I’m a prude.”

“Then cut it to the right length.”

What if he thinks I was an easy prey? I was. I practically begged him to fuck me. Fuck!

You were starting to sweat as you held up the third dress.

“This shows too much cleavage. He’ll think I’m trying to seduce the entire restaurant.”

“Wear a shirt under it.”

What if he isn’t taking me to a restaurant? What if we’re going to his place?

You kept rambling about the fourth and fifth dress, and your sister retorted with solutions to each of them.

“Sissy, your thoughts are so loud I think even he can hear them.”

You threw a dress in her face.

“You’re thinking of every possibility that this could go wrong, aren’t you?”

“No…” you mumbled, but a good death stare from your sister made you change your mind from lying, “Yes, I’m scared, Pat. What if he isn’t the man he made me believe he is? What if he’s a serial killer disguised as a vaginal doctor? What if he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing? What if I’m walking right into grandma’s house and get eaten by the big bad wolf?”

“Stop, stop, you’re making no sense whatsoever…”

“And what if he doesn’t like me? What if we don’t have any chemistry? What if… oh my god, what if he only wants me as a fuck-buddy?”

You were pacing around your room, walking through the clothes, kicking the shoes away from your wandering path. Your sister grabbed your wrist and pulled you down on the bed.

“You are overthinking,” she booped your nose, “You are a gorgeous human being, very pretty too, if I have to say so myself. If he was only going to have you as his fuck-buddy, then you either say yes, because God knows you need a good fuck, or you say no because you’re looking for something deeper. And he wouldn’t have asked you on a date if he wasn’t into you! Take a deep breath with me.”

You both inhaled and exhaled, again and again, until your heartbeat wasn’t about to gallop right out of your chest.

“Now that you’re nice and calm… eh, ish, let’s put on some music and get you ready for your date. I have the perfect dress for you to wear tonight, just promise not to spill wine on it.”

Lucas walked out of the steaming shower, wrapping a large fluffy towel around his hips. His dog, a German Shepherd, was lying on the carpeted bedroom floor by the door. Her brown eyes were staring at him intensely like she knew that he was going somewhere.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can, Aika. And I promise to bring your favourite treat from the restaurant,” he told the dog. Mention of the treat perked her ears up.

Sy chuckled as he started grooming his beard. Then a light went off in his mind.

Fuck, what if she doesn’t like dogs?

He looked apologetically at Aika, who was drooling on the carpet, already tasting the treat on her palate.

Lucas finished in the bathroom and went to his spacious walk-in closet.

“What should I wear, girl?” He asked as if Aika knew what was hot in fashion. She walked over to where he hung his trousers, sniffed a few before picking a grey pair down from the hanger. She then managed to trot over to him with a pair of brown leather shoes.

“Well, thanks, girl, these are perfect. So what do you think, a white shirt or a black shirt?” Sy held each piece up to Aika, and she barked happily at the white shirt, her tail wagging excitedly. The dashing doctor also chose a matching grey suit jacket. He looked himself over in the mirror.

“I really want this to work, Aika,” he mumbled to his dog, who cocked her head to the side. “I think she’s amazing, and I hope she likes dogs because if not, I would be really sad… to say goodbye to you.”

Aika growled at him, making Sy laugh out loud.

“Sorry girl, I’m just kidding, I’m kidding. You belong with me, forever and always,” he scratched her belly. “What do I do if I make an ass out of myself?”

Aika rolled around and let out a loud ‘woof’ as if she was saying that he should just be himself.

“Okay, I’ll do my best. But what if she’s not who I think she is? What do I do then?”

Aika let out a deep rumble from her chest. I’ll bite her sorry ass if she isn’t.

You walked down the pavement looking for the restaurant Sy had texted you the address of. Sy was standing out front, waiting for you, he looked so handsome in his grey suit, and now you felt you might have been under-dressed. His face lit up in a warm grin, and his eyebrows arched when he saw you moving towards him. You smiled shyly back.

As Sy leaned down to kiss her cheek, you were going for his lips, ending in an awkward angled greeting.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you whispered at the same time he said: “Sorry!”

You stood there, looking down on the pavement, red-faced and suddenly very shy, not knowing what to do next while he was staring at you, not being able to take his eyes off you.

Lucas chuckled and presented his arm.

“Shall we go in?”

He was smiling at you, trying his best not to make your encounter awkward. You took his arm and was led into the restaurant. You looked around at the warm and comfortable atmosphere of the room. Chinese lanterns were hanging down from the loft, casting a soft light over space. The wooden tables had an induction heating plate for the hotpot that could contain either one, two or four different soups. The couple were seated near the covered fishing pond that was placed in the middle of the restaurant, a glass wall surrounding the pond, so no one could fall and get wet. The koi fish were swimming around, showing off their orange, red, white, and black scales. It was a soothing and calming sight and helped you relax in the presence of the handsome doctor.

A waitress came to take your drink orders while you looked through the menu.

“Oh, I don’t know what goes well with anything here,” you said, suddenly feeling so out of place.

“May I suggest one of their beers? They’re really good,” Lucas smiled at you warmly as he gave his drink order. You ordered one of their light and refreshing beers.

You looked down at the menu again. Not knowing what to pick as everything sounded delicious.

“There’s so much food,” you commented with a giggle.

“Do you want to try one of their special menus? That way, you can try a little of everything,” Sy suggested.

“I’d like that.”

The waitress came back with their drinks, and Sy rambled away your order. He ordered the four soup hot pot, various meats, seafood, vegetables, and an enormous amount of different types of noodles.

“How did you come by this place?” You asked, taking a sip of beer.

“I was walking around the neighbourhood one day with my sisters, and one of them wanted dumplings, another some noodles, and the third wanted some soup. I searched for a restaurant that had all three things, and this place popped up. It has become my favourite restaurant in the entire city,” he was a vivid storyteller that doctor.

“You brought me to your favourite restaurant?”

“Well, yes. I know it’s not the most traditional place to have a first date, but the food is amazing,” a pink blush crept up his neck and reached his cheeks.

“I think it’s the perfect place for a first date. I like trying new things,” you assured him, watching as a boyish grin of pride spread on his lips. God, how you wanted to kiss those lips.

“I hope you mean that because here comes the food,” Sy nodded towards the three waiters walking with an extra table full of food and the pot filled with the four soups.

“Oh dear,” you watched as they set the plates full of meat around you. “Are we feeding an army?”

“Trust me, darling, this might not be enough when we first get started,” Sy smiled. He reached for his chopsticks, “Have you eaten with chopsticks before?”

You gasped, pretending to be offended.

“I will let you know, doctor, that I was trained by the best to eat with chopsticks,” you showed him your hold, “My sister loves to get Chinese takeout when none of us feels like cooking, and there’s a restaurant that makes the best potstickers and chow mein.”

“Maybe we can order from there one day,” Sy suggested, his voice soft and full of promises.

“I’d like that. So, how do we do this?” you asked.

Lucas told you about the four different soups. They ranked from not-so-spicy to hell’s gate spicy. He talked about all the different cuts of meat, how to just put the ingredients in the soup, advising that you put in the lotus root first as it took a long time to cook.

While the doctor was talking, you were watching him. Your sole focus was on the way his lips moved and his tongue darting out from time to time. That tongue, that godly tongue.

His voice was rich and deep, so smooth and velvety you wanted to hear him talk forever. He caught you ogling at him.

“Everything alright?” he asked, looking a bit confused.

“Yeah, I was just thinking how amazing you look out of your white coat,” you blurted, making Sy laugh and blush an even deeper shade of pink before turning red.

“Why thank you, but I think the real showstopper tonight is you. You look beautiful,” he complimented.

“You’re just saying that because I complimented you first,” you giggled like a teenage schoolgirl with a crush.

Sy shook his head as he reached for the pieces of meat he had put in the soups. He picked one out and moved the chopsticks closer to your mouth.

“Try this,” he recommended. You closed your mouth around the chopsticks, letting the meat fall on your tongue. The sweet umami flavour of the pork was melting in your mouth, and you let out a soft moan.

Lucas was watching your mouth closely. The mouth that had been sucking him off a few days earlier in his office. The pretty mouth that swallowed his seed. His pants were suddenly feeling very snug around his groin area. Fuck, not now!

Thankfully his horny thoughts were interrupted by your suggestion.

“My turn to feed you,” you dove into the spiciest soup and picked out a dumpling. Why does he look so good? Lord, what is he thinking? Why is he looking at me like that? Something on my face?

Your hand was shaking a bit as you leaned over to give the dumpling to Sy, and then you dropped it, watching in slow motion as gravity did its thing, making the dumpling land on Lucas’ crisp white shirt and then down to his lap it went.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed. You quickly stood with your napkin and went over to clean the mess you had made. Lucas had picked up the fallen dumpling, not even thinking about the stain the red soup had made. He was having sinful thoughts of you sitting on your knees trying to wash off the red colour with your napkin.

“I ruined your shirt,” you sighed as the stain became worse, and it started to spread the more you rubbed the fabric.

“You’ve made it a habit to ruin my clothes, sunshine,” Lucas chuckled, but his laughter died quickly as you dabbed the napkin on his thigh, moving closer to the hard-on he was willing to go soft, but too late.

Oh, ooooooh.

“Maybe I don’t like that they’re hiding what nature has so gracefully given you,” you smirk up at him, giving him a sultry look.

Lucas swallowed hard. You could see his throat tensing as his Adam's apple bopped up and down. He’s looking you straight in the eyes, trying his best to restrain himself from taking you right then and there.

“God, I love your boldness,” his voice was low, soft, almost velvety, as if he was trying to tell you with the tone of his voice alone how much he wanted you. The smoothness of his voice was sending shivers down your spine, and some part of your brain was signalling that now was the time for you to attack him, rip his clothes off, ride him right there in the chair, not even caring about the people around you.

“Is everything okay?” A waitress asked, interrupting the moment. You snapped out of your lust-filled haze and went back to your chair. Sy coughed, masking his even dirtier thoughts.

“Yes, everything is good. The food is amazing. Can we get two shots of baijiu?” he asked, suddenly in need of something strong to stay put during dinner.

The waitress came back with the shots. Lucas held up his glass.

“Cheers,” he said and downed the clear liquid in one go, but you took a small sip.

“Oh shit, it’s burning my throat,” you gasped, putting the shot down.

“Believe me, you’re going to need all of it until we’ve finished eating,” Sy hinted at something more.

You inhaled the shot, letting the fire spread throughout your chest all the way down to your thighs and throbbing core. Your brain was slowly getting fuzzier, giving you the courage to ask him what had been on your mind since he asked you on the date.

“What are we, doctor?” You blurted, not thinking about how loud you actually were. You continued as you watched confusion spread on his handsome face: “What are you looking for in a partner? Are we going to be a no-strings-attached kind of thing? Casual hookup?”

You stopped and took a deep breath, waiting for his answer. You watched his lips, trying to avoid his eyes. If he wanted a ‘friends with benefits’-relationship, you would be devastated.

“There’s nothing casual about you, buttercup,” Sy was surprised by what you had just told him. He couldn’t deny the connection there was between the two of you. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he felt it deep in his guts that there was something more, and he wanted to be more for you. “I want to get to know you. I want to explore the deep connection that we have and see where it leads us. What about you? What are you looking for?”

“I… I want that too. Because to me, this. What we have is too good to be just an emotionless thing,” you started, “I feel safe around you, Lucas. I don’t know why, but I do. Do I make any sense? Because I feel like I’m just sitting here rambling…”

Lucas grabbed your hands across the table, avoiding the soups. He caressed the soft skin over your knuckles. His protective instinct was on overload, he wanted to protect you, and his heart was racing from hearing you say that you felt safe around him.

“You make sense to me, bug.”

Your first date had been perfect, so were the following dates afterwards. Lucas Syverson was the perfect gentleman and taken it like a champ when you had asked to take things slow, especially with you not knowing if it was still going to hurt when having sex. You wanted to have your ‘problem’ solved before you took that all-intimate next step with Sy. You built a beautiful relationship and a strong friendship from your attraction.

Lucas had invited you out for lunch one day. He asked about how it was going with the new gynaecologist he had recommended, a woman, as he wasn’t keen on knowing another man touching you in such an intimate place. You told him that you had been referred to a physiotherapist and was going to see a specialist in vaginal diseases.

With time you hurt less and less, and it was with the support from your sister and Sy that you continued the different treatments the doctors gave you. You stretched out muscles in your abdominal area. You used soap that was for intimate use only. You even started using an anaesthetic gel to relax the nerves in your vagina by Sy’s recommendation. You had cursed him all the way to hell the first time you’d used it, even as far as telling him that it burnt worse than the alcohol shot he made you drink at the Hot Pot restaurant. You were walking like you’d ridden a horse all day long until the burning stopped after a few minutes, and Sy had kept his laughter to himself, not wanting to hurt your feelings, but when you had started giggling from looking at yourself in the mirror, he couldn’t stop the roaring laughter either.

Sy was very helpful when you were exercising. He had made the stretching into a game of some sort. You might not be having sex, but you could still tease each other, orally or with your hands, anything to build intimacy between the two of you. He was determined to make the process sexy and fun, not dull and boring.

You asked him to penetrate you a few times but had to tell him to pull out because the pain became too intense. Sy was extremely understanding, and he helped you through the crying afterwards, as you felt that you were never going to heal again. He loved that you were comfortable enough around him to tell him to stop, and you felt so safe with him.

It became your goal not only to have sex but to be penetrated without the pain. And you would get there eventually. For now, you would just bask in the afterglow of a good make-out session with Lucas on the sofa.

You had always felt that there was a part of you missing, a vital part, and now, with Lucas, you felt whole. You couldn’t go a day without at least texting him, saying you missed him, or when you were together, and he went to the bathroom, you missed him. When you had to go home the following day after a night of cuddling, you missed him the minute you walked out the door. Both of you felt like you were addicted to the other. It was almost becoming an obsession.

Life with a boyfriend like Sy was amazing, incredible, fantastic. He was everything you needed without having known it. And Lucas loved to have someone he could take care of, protect and maybe even love. Sy had never felt this way about anyone before. It was a fantastic feeling to have this wonderful woman he could call his girlfriend. His.

Not only were you an extraordinary human being: you also loved animals just as much as he did. If you were allowed animals in the apartment you lived in with your sister, you would have filled it already. Sy had let out a breath of relief when you’d told him. You and Aika had become cuddle buddies whenever you were visiting Lucas. The German Shepherd would completely ignore Sy and follow you around instead, and Lucas was only happy to share his girl with his other girl. The sense of having found you excited him, completed him and made him so happy.

There are two kinds of tired: one that needs a good night's sleep and one that needs so much more. Lucas fell into the second category. He was both physically and mentally exhausted from a long and hard day at work, and he also had to face the guilt for ruining your plans for a quiet dinner.

“Plans are made to be changed,” you told him when he called you to cancel your dinner plans and suggest grabbing something to eat and spend the evening at his place instead.

"And I really like the sound of staying in and just cuddling with you, big bear," you whispered in your phone so your colleagues wouldn’t hear you.

"Big bear?"

"Yes, you're massive, hairy and just like a big cuddly teddy bear," finishing the phrase you noticed that one of your colleagues, Rita, was looking at you, chuckling at your big bear comment. You cleared your throat and with all the seriousness you could muster you told Sy: “I can’t talk right now. Call me when you get here,” and quickly ended the call, turning to her, “he’s an activist for the conservation of big brown bears.”

“Yeah, right,” she laughed. “Have fun with your bear-man, girl, you don’t need to explain yourself.” She winked at you and went about her work.

To your dismay, Lucas didn’t follow your instructions and decided that would be the day he showed his face to your work coming into the library to pick you up. He walked into the place, standing tall, his long strides and posture showing a sense of confidence and ease. He was as handsome as always, in his dress jacket, white shirt and jeans. Upon entering the library, he took off his sunglasses revealing his cobalt blue stare that made people stop in their tracks and this time was no different.

“Oh my God!” You heard your colleague gasping next to you when she laid eyes upon him. A small grin formed on your face to her reaction. You watched your man getting closer, noticing that his face looked tired, something only you would notice. The moment your eyes met a warm, sweet smile spread on his gorgeous lips, lighting up his face.

“Do they accept new members in the bear conservation club?” She asked not too loud, but loud enough for Sy to hear, who was standing right in front of you now. You blushed from embarrassment and broke eye contact with him. His soft laughter brought your eyes back on him.

"Sadly all positions have been filled up," he countered looking directly at you with a lopsided grin. “Ready to go home, sunshine?” You nodded excited, picking up your things quickly and moving on Lucas’ side, looping your arm around his offered elbow.

“Have a good evening, Rita,” you said giddily, looking back at her as she was fanning herself trying to cool off to the sight of Sy’s behind.

"What would you like to eat for dinner?" Sy asked as he opened the car door.

"You," you whispered silently.

In the shower, the water came down warm and soothing, washing the weariness and bad energy of the day off of Lucas’ body. He took some time for himself to relax and find his balance again. But the thought of you sitting on the other side of the wall made him impatient. He needed to be close to you.

Aika whimpered at you, licking your fingers and begging for another treat. You were lying on Sy’s bed, flipping through channels, nibbling at the leftovers of your Chinese takeout, with a comfortable, fluffy pillow behind you, soft and crisp sheets underneath you and Aika laying across your lap, sharing the guilty pleasure of eating in bed with you.

“Shhh, girl! Do you want him to hear us?” You whispered at her, feeding her another bite of the delicious potstickers you had for dinner. She gulped the treat and then licked your hand in gratitude. “Eating in bed is the best, right Aika?” You told her in a colluding way, scratching your accomplice behind her ears. You knew that Sy didn’t approve of eating in bed nor sharing food with Aika, so you both were on the lookout for when he would finish his shower. You didn’t want him to find out the ‘magic tricks’ you had used to gain Aika’s trust so fast.

The moment you heard Sy turning off the water, you both jumped up, Aika taking her usual place at the foot end of the bed acting all cool, and you ran to hide the evidence in the kitchen and wash your hands from the grease. In a minute, you were back in bed pretending you were watching TV. Of course, you had no idea what was on.

“What are my girls doing?” The bathroom door opened, and Sy came out with a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. He leaned lazily on the door frame, smiling in all his wet, half-naked glory, making you choke on your own drool. Quickly, you gathered yourself trying to sound as convincing as possible.

“Nothing special, just sitting here and relaxing.”

Sy walked across the room heading for his dresser that was on your side. Your eyes followed every move he made, studying even the tiniest dent and bump his muscles formed. At the view of his butt, a very unladylike sound escaped your throat.

‘Everything ok, sweetheart?” Lucas asked absentmindedly while looking for his underwear.

“Mh-mm,” you nodded, turning your eyes to the TV. There was a short pause after you heard him close the drawer.

“Babe, is there something you want to tell me?” You craned up your head to meet his eyes. His face was serious. The only thing that kept you from worrying was a small twitch of a smile on his lips. Oh, his lips.

“Huh? Like what?” You asked puzzled.

“I don't know, maybe you want to confess something?” Your mind started racing, a hundred thoughts per second: you are so hot, take off that towel, take me now, how lucky can a girl be, you are perfect, I love you. What? Where did that come from?

“Uhh, no. I don’t think so,” you mumbled trying to hide the instant blushing on your face.

“Don’t you think that trust and openness are important, darling?” He leaned over you, his hand running over your jaw. So busted! But how?

“Of course!” You gulped, readying yourself for the revelation.

“Then can you tell me, why are there crumbs on the bed, bug?”

“What?” That was not what you were expecting.

“Aika?” Sy turned to the German shepherd. She whimpered, hiding her snout in her paws and quickly left the room.

“Traitor,” you muttered.

“I thought we had an agreement on this,” Sy spoke softly, putting on his underwear and sweatpants and headed to his side of the bed.

“I want her to like me,” you confessed in a small, guilty voice.

Lying down, Lucas let a deep sigh out, finally being able to relax and cuddle with his girlfriend. He pulled you closer letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Baby, you don’t need to buy her off. I’m sure that Aika loved you the first moment she met you… just like her owner.” Sy’s voice drifted off as he started zoning out, feeling so relaxed in your arms. Your breath caught in your throat, gazing at him like you saw the sun for the first time after an eternity of darkness. You wanted to say so many things but couldn’t find the words to bring out of your head. The only thing you could utter was:

“Wrap your arms around me,” you felt the need to be close to him, lost in him.

“How’s that?” He murmured with his eyes closed.

“Perfect.” He brought his face in your hair, inhaling deeply from your scent.

“Mmmmm, you smell amazing.” This felt so right to him, holding you and being held. He tightened his arms around you. Being in his embrace felt so soothing, calming and safe to you, that you let out a soft purring sound.

“Did you just purr?” He opened his eyes, a huge grin forming on his face.

“No….”

“I think you did.”

“Uh-oh,” you said lazily, burying your face into his neck.

“Alright. But in case you did, I find it really cute.’’ He let you know in his deep, soft and gentle voice.

“I might have…” Your admission made you both dissolve into laughter allowing you to release all the pent up energy. Once out of your laughing fit, you were both left gazing into each other’s eyes. It was you who made the first move, bringing your hand on his cheeks, your fingers idly playing with the curls in his beard before you kissed him, slowly at first, lips tracing lips, becoming deeper, bolder and more intense as your tongues danced in a passionate rhythm. The moan that escaped his mouth when you finished the kiss, gently biting and tagging his lower lip set you on fire.

Sy felt he was on cloud nine. His head was spinning with giddy happiness. The way your body was moulded to fit him like a puzzle piece. His heart was galloping, his mind was going crazy, his feelings were all over the place with joy and love, he felt loved, so loved. But the minute you moved to sit in his lap, grinding against him as if you were riding a horse, his mind was transported to another place, only thinking about how good the friction between you felt, he wanted so bad to make love to you, to make you feel as good as you were doing to him at the moment.

He was still lost in your kiss, basking in your touch with his eyes closed as you kissed your way from his neck to his ear whispering:

“Baby, I think I'm ready.”

He opened his eyes, blinking lazily. At first, he didn’t understand what you were talking about. He looked straight into your eyes, his eyebrows furrowed with question. You caressed his face softly, waiting for realisation to hit him. The smile on your face, the feeling in your eyes soon let him in on the meaning of your words. His heart had skipped a beat as he truly grasped your words. You saw the surprise register on his face, his breathing quickened, his lips parted ever so slightly, his hands stilling on the lower part of your back and a faint wrinkle showed between his eyebrows. And then immediately his short-lived surprise gave its place to happiness shining through his eyes, fueled with desire as the colour of his blue orbs turned to a dark navy ring around his full-blown pupils.

His arms wrapped around you and you felt him pulling you onto his chest. You could feel the urgency in his movements, there was raw emotion in the way his fingers curled around the fabric of your dress. He claimed your lips once again, kissing you deeply, absorbing every detail of the moment, your scent, the weight of your body against his, all the feelings that were washing over him, raising a wave of heat inside him.

The taste of him stripped you from all your thoughts, fears and senses. His kiss, hungry and intense, ignited a fire inside you. Your palms were flat on his chest, your fingers were trying to dig into his skin as if wanting to hold on for dear life before you let go of all inhibitions and get lost in him. His hands trailed down your neck, never releasing your mouth from the hot, wet kiss he had you captured. Your body reacted to his touch, sending shivers down your spine and making you moan. You brought your hands to his deep brown curls, carding your fingers through them, tugging at his roots, to feel a little bit of control as your sanity was in the balance of tipping over. The little pain that he experienced made him exude more lust, he loved how you took control, as he could unwind and let you loose.

With one strong arm around your waist, he gathered you up and moved you both to a sitting position, letting you sit astride his lap. His fingers dug into your hips and pulled you closer to him, pressing your core to his straining bulge. You couldn’t help but grind against him, letting your instinct take over. Your kissing grew more passionate, more urgent, muffled moans and gasps filling the room. Sy brought his hands on your breast, kneading the soft flesh over the light fabric of your sundress and realising that you had no bra on. A throaty noise escaped him as he broke the kiss, looking at you with blazing eyes.

“You had it planned all along, you little minx!” he growled, his thumbs tracing your perky nipples through the thin layer, weakening your core, making you lean your forehead against his for purchase. He could feel the warmth coming off your skin through the lite fabric, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to touch you, he wanted to see the delicate, subtle flesh of your breasts.

You could feel the feral animosity inside him, as you kept grinding your core to his groin. You had never seen him like this before. His hands were eager to touch more than just your dress. Before you could think about taking the dress off, it was ripped from your chest, the fierce action kicking the breath out of you. Buttons flew in every direction and landed on the soft carpeted floor.

“That was my favourite dress,” you said in a shuddering voice, watching him take in the image of your naked body like a starving beast.

“Payback time,” he snarled. He studied you, running a finger over your breastbone slowly down to your stomach, his eyes following the invisible trail his touch burnt on your skin. He left a wet kiss on your chest and licked his way to one of your nipples, taking it into his mouth, torturing it with his tongue and tugging it with his teeth making it even harder. Although his moves were slow, you could feel how aroused and ravenous he was, his breathing shallow and fast just like yours. You closed your eyes, burying your face in his hair, feeling him everywhere; his lips on your breasts, his fingers pressing into the flesh of your lower back, his erection stirring between your legs. His scent and taste defined your reality now.

Sliding your hand between your bodies and pressing firmly on his arousal made him growl like a wild animal against your skin. He looked up at you with lustful eyes ordering you to take off your clothes. The demand in his husky voice stole your breath for a second. He commanded and needed you at the same time. You stood up obediently, let the dress fall down to your ankles, slowly peeled off your panties down your legs and stepped out of them with small moves while watching him watching you.

You crawled back onto the bed languidly, wrapping your fingers at the waistband of his sweatpants, removing them slowly along with his black boxer briefs, revealing his throbbing manhood and his muscular thighs. He stared at your face through half-lidded eyes with desire, taking in how you ran your tongue over your lips at the sight of the glistening precum that oozed from the top of the head, showing your eagerness to taste him.

He pulled you against his body, holding you close, feeling the warmth of your body skin on skin, your breasts pressed into his chest and his erection straining against your body. His lips captured yours in a deep passionate kiss, owning your very existence.

“The things I wanna do to you, right now,” he moaned in your mouth, locking eyes with you.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want to make you come. Hard.”

“Mmm, how?” you purred, biting your lower lip to the suggestion. His eyes fell on your lips again and a small wicked grin appeared on his.

“Ride my face and I’ll show you,” his voice low and heavy with desire. His words sparked an adventurous excitement inside you, making your heart start racing. A bold smile appeared on your face taking up his challenge and the look of awe in the doctor’s eyes gave you the courage to move over, stride his beard, facing towards his body. His strong hands guided your knees on either side of his head and then trailed over your body, adoring every inch of it.

The beautiful close up of your dripping core mere inches from his eager mouth made him salivate, yearning for the taste of you. His tongue started tracing the inner of your thighs, writing small circles on the sensitive skin, lazily finding his way to your lips, licking, sucking, and making them beautifully wet. But his hands on your butt cheeks, kneading the round flesh with fervour showed you that he was impatient to dive into the main course immediately.

A warm, coiled tension started building up inside you, feeling your muscles quivering in anticipation. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding on the soft bristles of his beard, the variation in textures making you weak. You leaned slightly forward, putting your hands on his stomach to hold on, the small change in angle intensifying the sensation and giving him more space to navigate. You couldn’t tell the difference between his lips or tongue. All you could feel was just a nice, sloppy warm mess. A loud gasp escaped you when you felt his tongue run over your opening, lapping your juices.

“You taste like honey,” he grunted into your core, the vibration of his bass hitting you hard. He didn’t wait for you to answer, he went on with his smooth, wet and warm stimulation. When he hit your clit, your whole body shuddered in his tight grip. The effect he had on you made his cock jump. You leaned lower, putting your mouth on him, your fingers wrapping around the base of his shaft. You felt his body jerk upon contact and he tried to drown a curse clenching his teeth, causing you to laugh around him. But you didn’t stop, taking him deeper, giving him the attention he needed.

For a moment, he let himself get lost in your ministrations, having your eager, soft tongue wrapped around him, eyes closed, moaning deep, feeling he was growing bigger and harder in your mouth. You took advantage of his openness and brought your hand over his sack, massaging it softly, accelerating the pace, your tongue twirling around his glands every time your lips were around his head.

“Fuck!”

His hips thrust up involuntarily, searching to go deeper into the wetness of your mouth. You felt like you had the upper hand, loving the power he granted you over him, the naughty side of you wanting to make this a race of who was going to come first. But you should have known better, Sy wouldn’t let you have this one. He pressed his tongue flat on your core, intensifying the sensation and then ran it over your opening and sliding it inside you. You couldn’t keep the needy moan from escaping, feeling his tongue teasing your moist entrance and penetrating you.

Your focus was lost and so was your balance. You leaned your forehead on his pelvis, concentrating on all the pleasure he was giving you, stroking him slowly with your hand.

"Don't stop,” you whimpered, feeling the warmth of your orgasm spreading all over you. He pulled you closer against his face and shoved his tongue deeper inside you, fucking you at a frantic pace while his beard set your clit on fire. Your legs started trembling, his firm grip not allowing you to move away from him, the light tremors of your orgasm building into an earthquake, making you shudder and scream.

“God, Luc! Your tongue is magical,” you gasped as you collapsed on the bed, panting with your eyes closed. You heard his deep chuckle and felt the bed shift as he moved over, lying next to you. His arm wrapped around your waist and he scattered small kisses on your shoulder and collarbone, his beard wet from your nectar left a cooling sensation on your skin. You turned to face him, bringing your hand on his jaw, guiding him into a deep kiss. His kisses were always a delicious treat but now that you tasted yourself on his lips and tongue, it made you feel amazing and aroused again.

Never breaking your kiss, Sy laid on top of you, his weight spreading your legs apart. You couldn’t stop your hands from tracing his taut body, relishing in the texture of his muscles. You could feel he was tense, his strength, his heat increasing as he was taking over you and you couldn’t get enough of it. You needed this. You wanted to watch his face as he came inside you, to have his sweat all over you and you couldn’t believe it was finally happening. And neither could he.

He fought to control his movements and the urge to claim you hard, pouring all his passion on you. He needed his mind to take over the primal, animal instinct he was feeling at that moment. He was too far gone by now, his whole body aflame. Your voice brought him back.

“Lucas,” you whispered more breath than voice.

“Say it again. Say my name,” he said in your ear, his voice a low groan.

“Lucas, do it.”

His expression was one of intense concentration, replaced by wide sensation, as he eased slowly inside you. His thrust was slow, gentle, allowing your body to get used to his size and open up for him. You took in a deep breath as your body prepared for that familiar feeling of pain to come and tensed up but his kisses, his bites, his touch, his fire engulfed you, making you relax and forget about everything. Without even being aware of it, your pelvises touched and there you were, one deep inside the other. The realization alone made you both gasp, staring at each other with awe.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sy murmured, the overwhelming feeling choking him.

You paused for a moment, running a mental check before nodding faintly and breathing: “More”.

Sy took a moment trying to catch his breath and allowing you to catch yours. Eventually, your bodies unwinded and your breaths almost synced. With slow, soft thrusts he started moving inside you, claiming your mouth at the same slow, languid pace. Your bodies now were the closest they could be. The intense feeling of your tightness made him moan against your lips.

“I can feel every muscle inside you moving,” he gasped, “and it feels fucking incredible.”

"I love the way you feel inside me," you said, your voice giving away a slight hint of breaking, feeling a lump in your throat. You just needed to say it, tell him before your heart burst.

"I love the way I feel inside you," he let out a low content groan, not picking up your emotional overload.

"I love that I can trust you," you went on, closing your eyes trying to contain your feelings, trying to find comfort in his motions, rocking back and forth inside you.

The tears in your voice were more evident, making Sy stop and look at you with worry on his face.

"Baby... Look at me."

You couldn't bring yourself to open your eyes, you didn't want to ruin this moment for both of you.

"It's OK, bug. I'm here for you. Open your eyes."

"I love how you are always here for me," you gasped an intense sob ripping through you. "I-I love... you."

His eyes travelled from your lips forming those three words to your eyes, gazing inside them, finding your soul and claiming it as his own. He saw you, really, truly saw you and loved what was there. He tenderly caressed your face with his fingertips, wiping away the trail of your tears. He placed a feathery kiss on your lips and whispered:

"I love you too."

[maximumninjavoid]

rewrites for Mining for Unobtanium

@indigosaurus she's AMAZING and really helped me....

so I took another dive at it and fixed some things.

the breaks aren't where they were.....Asterisks indicate emails

if you're under 18 or offended by secks and consensual BDSM, GO AWAY

feedback is always welcome

I'm not even certain how it happened. I was just slogging along like everyone else, checking off plagues on my 2020/ 2021 bingo card, trying not to lose my mind. I couldn't watch the news, THAT was an exercise in insanity: watching allegedly grown-ass humans argue about the benefits of their rights versus the health and wellbeing of thousands of others....fish tank cleaner, for crying out loud.....Horse de-wormer. I had been going to work every day. As an *essential* I quickly figured out THAT meant the same thing as expendable, but I loved my work, and loved my clients even more.

Home, work, home, work, occasional trips to the grocery, mask, gloves, wiping things off before I bring them in the house, and praying that I don't get sick. As an extrovert, all the things I would usually do to replenish are prohibited. So, no gathering with friends, no going out, no dinner parties, no seeing people, no performances, nothing. Sure, zoom. But that's not the same.

And then the phone rang.

And I looked at my cell, and I didn't even recognize the sequence of numbers, and the program I have that blocks Unknown callers kicked in, and that was that, or so I thought. It rang again. And again. Fourteen times from that odd sequence of numbers, no area code I was familiar with. When I'm home, the phone is on its charger. No one calls me. Truly. I'll get messengered. I get IMs through various programs, but almost no one calls. Especially with my work schedule. I honestly didn't know there were that many calls. I'm headed out to work in the morning, it's about four am when I leave, and that when I see how many calls have come from that odd number. " Determined little bugger aren't they? " and I hop in my little black Club Edition Miata MX5 and turn on Pandora to my 80's Euro-pop and start shredding gears.

I'm not going to apologize for my musical taste. Some of it's a function of my age. I happen to like ABC and Scritti Politti. I think "My Aim Is True" was LIGHT YEARS ahead of its time. Besides, it's great to listen to while driving a six-speed manual, and I get to work in a great mood. So far, pretty much like any other pandemic day. Phone appointments with clients, stay on top of my documentation, grab a smoke where I can, and Google that phone number.

Which is where it got weird. Turns out, it's a what do you call it? A Solicitor? Some firm in the UK. Lots of names; their website looks lovely, but that doesn't tell me much. Why in the name of Odin's panties would a solicitor be trying to reach me? I mean, that didn't make any sense. I've never even been to the UK, and the closest I got to Europe was three hours in Orly airport about a hundred years ago when they took all our luggage off the plane, had all of us deplane; in the rain, I might add ..... So we could all identify our bags and get back on the plane. I was eight.

I added the solicitor's number to my contacts, figuring that would stop it from getting blocked by Robokiller, and then perhaps they might leave a message or something. I went on about my day and didn't give it another thought.

Soon, it would consume my every thought. How was I to know....

They left a message. A rather cryptic message. I must have played it six times and when I pulled over I read it an additional four times.

“We are trying to contact you at the behest of our client to set up an initial meeting to ascertain if terms may be agreed upon for a mutually beneficial relationship. The client wishes your knowledge and expertise in certain areas and would insist upon the utmost discretion. ”

Reasonably certain I am nowhere in line for the throne, and even more certain I have not been left a peerage, I’m at a loss as to what this is even about. I mean at one time I had been told that my biological father was English, a subject of the Crown. Having gone looking for medical insight and falling into that rabbit hole known as “every genealogical and DNA site known to humankind” I now know that is a fiction. There goes the last imaginary stab at long lost relations across the pond, right? I put it in the back of my brain and then I got an IM from a dear friend and MC I have had the pleasure of working with, “you’ll never guess who wants to talk to you!!!!’“

I look at the instant message and assume it is a prank. I send him love, inquire after his husband and cats, and then, almost ladylike, I tell him to sod off. “Oh you’ll be eating those words, you will. I swear on her Majesty the Queen’s diamond tiaras". OK. Surely he was serious. Gay men do not swear on crown jewels frivolously. John calls and regales me with the story of his last gig pre pandemic at Fringe Festival in Edinburgh and the massive crowds, and how well it was going...John says “One day this bloke comes backstage with his mates and they were quite taken with the international man of leather bit. It seemed they had a tonne of questions”, and while Jon said they’re good-looking, they…..didn’t play for his team. So we chat a bit about that, and then he says he has to ring off.

I’m still befuddled.

I get home, kick off my shoes, take off my damned bra, and there’s a knock on the door. I look out the little window and it’s a person in a polo, from a courier service. I open the door a crack, they ask my name, I confirm my identity, show proof, and they hand me this envelope. Very mysterious. Ok. This is some next- level weird shit. Is there a cell phone in the package? Will it direct me to take the red pill and meet Morpheus? Become unplugged from the matrix? So, I light a cigarette, grab my reading glasses and see just how far through the looking glass we are about to venture.

It appears to be a non-disclosure agreement. Pretty serious shit, I might add, that will penalize my sole descendant and her descendants, which by the bye do NOT exist as of this date, in many courts, in several languages, in perpetuity. If I agree to the terms, I am to sign it, scan it, email it, and upon receipt, a link will be sent for a secured video call, but not with the principal. Well, it wasn’t worded that succinctly. The language was a bit more flowery. And in Legalese. Oh for crying out loud….. I cannot even imagine for whom THIS level of crazy would be necessary, but now, my curiosity has got the best of me, and I’m in.

Not only do I sign, I add a drop of blood and the retinal image from my last eye exam ( what? You didn’t ask to keep yours?) I figured if we’re going to be extra, well, by all means, let’s be extra as FUCK. No sense in trying to disguise my sense of humor, either.

Off it goes, inconveniencing electrons, and then there’s the email notification. Secure video call. My God. I click the link, seven extra steps and I’m video chatting with a very nice man in a very nice suit who explains that his client would like to engage my services.

"My services? For what, exactly?” I’m running the possibilities through my head. Slapping drinks out of the hand of a Kardashian adjacent ne’er do well? Certainly not as an MC or a joke writer. I don’t know how to write jokes. I can tell stories, but that doesn’t seem likely as an engagement of this magnitude. No one pay that much money for a story teller. By process of elimination it appears safe to assume that this might be connected to …… umm……. My extra curricular activities.

This seems as good a time as any to explain, I suppose. I’ve been a part of the Leather Community for some time now. Kink, sure, but Leather is different. Not just in the material.

If kink encompasses a whole list of things; think you may have seen, things you might even have done, and you may not even identify yourself as kinky. That’s really ok, perfectly fine. At some point you might decide “ hey, I AM kinky” and we’ll be right here waiting for you, eager to show you all our toys and the cool things we learned along the way, various tips and tricks, wardrobe options, all the things we gush over with other like minded folx.

And while I did say Kink, and you’ve probably connected the dots to BDSM being a part of that- I did specifically say Leather. Leather, TO ME, and I really do need to clarify that this definition is situational, contextual and not universal, is about a set of shared values. Honor, service, duty, community, family; it informs the way in which I move in the world as much as the twelve Steps do. It is about how I treat people, how I would like to be treated, it encompasses integrity, honesty and my personal ethical compass as well as my love of mixing sex and power. It’s between consenting adults, there are rules, protocol, a hierarchical structure, AND it makes my heart happy.

Back in the day, all right not THAT long ago, I was a Femme Domme of some renown. I had submissives, slaves, people in service to me. I travelled around this part of the globe teaching classes at conferences about interpersonal dynamics within hierarchical relationships, classes on negotiation, safety, the ins and outs of entry in the Community and I loved giving back that information which was freely given to me at the start of my journey. I played in conference dungeons with all manner of implements of destruction. I had written more than a few published articles and I still MCed and judged contests.

It HAD to be that, right? But why me?

“Well, we would like to retain you, as an advisor. You’ll be compensated, of course. Your travel will be taken care of, as well as the quarantine period and any testing. Should you travel while we are still experiencing restrictions due to the Global Health Crisis, you would fly privately, and expect to spend fourteen days in a superior accommodation until the end of the quarantine. Then, you would travel with our client. Your meals would be provided, you would be paid a generous per diem…”

“ Exactly how long did you imagine you might need my advisory services, do you figure?

"Well…..we were thinking approximately six months with the option to extend.”

And I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t. My brain had vapor locked. SIX MONTHS? I had a job, a life, and a home, and bills and things. Regular people stuff. I couldn’t just chuck it all for half a year, could I?

“I do have a career I’m quite fond of, and I’m not ready to retire…. ”

“Your compensation will be more than worth the inconvenience….” And he threw out an almost incomprehensible number. Six figures. For six months of work. And no expenses. I actually could retire. “Ok. Who is your client, and in what capacity do they want me to advise?”

“ We would have to calculate the time difference, coordinate schedules, and get back with you. You’ll be hearing from us in a few days. Good to have you onboard”. And the phone call ended.

Right as that happened my phone notification went off. My bank showed a wire deposit of eight thousand dollars.

Indecorously, I’m certain my mouth was agape. Eight thousand dollars, for a phone call? Surely they were barking mad. Criminals, perhaps. Something. This was just so…..weird. I took the documents to bed, picked out my clothes for the next day, then re-read them as I wound down for bed.

Thankfully there was the usual amount of sheer chaos at work to occupy my thoughts and I got through my sympathy unscathed.

The drive home was fun. I can always fix anything with six gears, loud music, and ignoring the posted speed limit. I had a few hours, so I did dishes, tossed in a load of washing, and was about to get a few more chapters done in my edX Harvard class when the phone rang.

An odd set of numbers? Check. Similar to the Solicitors office? Check.

“ Hello? Yes, this is. How can I help? Secure call? Yes, I’ll hold… ” and I’m sure that my heart could be heard pounding through my chest…. “Hello.” This lush beautiful full-bodied husky voice on the other end…. “ do I have the pleasure of speaking with miss Y/L/N? ” “ yes, this is. You appear to have me at a disadvantage, I don’t believe I got your name? ”

“You didn’t.”

“ Are you shy, cautious, or just a bit of a rake, kind sir? ” He laughed, and it was an infectious sound. Women wanted to be with him, men wanted to be him, charming. Very charming. “Then how do you prefer I address you? Sire? My Lord? Sultan? Or perhaps Daddy is more to your liking.” That got me a sharp intake of breath…..I smile, make note of that.

“Was there some purpose for this call, or do you usually make secure phone calls for no apparent reason?” Silence. I could hear background noise, but he didn’t speak. “ You’ve paid for my time, if you would prefer we spend it silently, so be it. I will put you on speaker, so I can at least continue with my classwork. ”

“Classwork? In what subject? ” That voice. Twenty years in radio and I process everything through my ears; his voice was dynamic, rich tones, well-modulated. “It’s a class on the Opioid Epidemic. When I finish, I’ll have a certificate from Harvard to add to my collection.”

“ Collection? ”

“Yes, I collect alphabets.”

“ You what? ”

I laughed. “It’s a bit of a euphemism: for letters, after my name. Professional certifications. ”

“I hope you don’t think THAT’S why I’m contacting you…”

“ Truthfully? It crossed my mind. There’s no shame in getting help if you need it, and I can see where having a personal sober coach would be a benefit. That would explain the drop everything and travel. ”

More silence. Not awkward, but not at the companionable stage, either.

“Well, I’m not planning on calling you by some honorific, and you still haven’t provided your name, so I shall give you a name. Yes. From two of my favorite book titles. Hero Solo. All right, Mister Solo… What is it you need from little old me?”

And then he laughed again, a deep belly laugh, like there was a great joke, but, clearly, I wasn’t in on it. When he stopped laughing he said “ I ran into a friend of yours. I was with friends and he was doing stand-up comedy, and some of the things he talked about were…… Intriguing, shall we say? So I went round after and one thing led to another and he said you were the woman I needed to find. ”

Now the gears are spinning, processor speed doubling every few seconds, a United Kingdom stand-up act…. and it clicks into place. "I can teach you what I know, and what I like. But there are still issues that may prove insurmountable.

For you see, Mister Solo, I know who you are, and why you came to me. “

Having finally figured it out, who the caller was, I was amazed I hadn’t freaked out and hung up. Internally I was fangirling my ass off, OMG I am on the phone with HENRY CAVILL.

And I can’t tell anyone. Damn my ethical standards to seven hells, and that Non-Disclosure Agreement didn’t help, either. But, it made sense. I had gotten some scene vibes from watching him. From some of his roles, August Walker, if I have to tell you, but also in interviews, and thought there might have been something else besides Big Dick Energy there.

Thankfully, he spoke. “ Issues? Like why I had to have solicitors involved? ”

“Well, that, of course. But there are other considerations. While what it is we do has become more mainstream, it is still taboo, and playing with sex and power can have consequences. Especially for dominant men. Too easily twisted, and too easily misconstrued. And, you have a bright future to consider. Fifty shades of crap did a great deal more PR harm. I mean, if Christian Grey hadn’t been wealthy, it would have been an episode of Criminal Minds.”

He laughed again “ John said you were funny.

“Oh I’ll have you holding your sides, but I’m not professionally funny. I do like your laugh, so that’s an incentive. But, here’s something you may not have considered. How do you explain me? I cannot just pop into your universe, and become some orbiting satellite. I mean, look at you for fucks sake.” I knew I was starting to sound a bit exasperated, but it couldn’t be helped. “I’m ….. Well…..I’m …. Well shit. I’m at least twenty years older than you are.You can’t be seen with me. You’re not Keanu Reeves, and even Keanu Reeves took a ration of flack for dating a woman his age. And, besides, I look like, well…. Me. ”

“I wish you wouldn’t talk like that. You do realize I have seen photos of you. I don’t believe they do you justice.” That voice. Those words. And I wanted to let it pour all over me like a balm for my bruised soul. I could feel it oozing into the dented places, soothing the hurts. “ So you admit to being a stalker too, Hero? I hope you got great shots of me on my way to work. Or did you pay someone to hack my social media? That’s rich! ” Now I was laughing.

I could genuinely like this man, and that was a great place to start. But, I still had a mirror, and he still had paparazzi. We’d been on the phone for three hours, and it felt like minutes, but, I had to go.

“ This has been delightful. I’ll send your money back. I feel terrible for taking it. The NDA will remain in effect until the stars fall from the sky, or the end of the world. You’re safe. Thank you for a lovely conversation. Goodbye. ”

And I hung up.

I only wished I could stop thinking about it. And him.

As though the Gods themselves had conspired to create a perfect man.

Tall, broad shoulders, thick dark hair, blue eyes that I swear could see through me, with that brown part in one eye, so he’s still mortal. Strong chest, covered with the perfect amount of hair….. Which I was willing to bet was the right combination of crisp and soft. So you’d want to play with it, bury your face in it but just rough enough to harden your nipples.

Well as it turns out the solicitor was having none of that. They sent a rather tersely worded email reminding me I was under contract and that the funds would not be able to be returned and that I may wish to rethink the terms I had agreed to and they expected me to fulfill my obligation. Damn my sense of leather sensibilities and that ethical compass. Now I had to figure out how to make this work in some way shape or form.

Days pass. I go to work, do my thing, help a friend through a rough spot, and find myself reading entertainment industry sites. Can you roll your eyes at yourself? Is that internal, or is there a facial expression that accompanies that action?

I deduce he’s in Hungary, try and fail to calculate the difference in time ( I have always sucked at time mathematics) and while I know there’s an app for that, I have no idea what a production schedule looks like. I also have no comprehension of what a typical day might be, or if there even is such a thing. I send an email to the Solicitors General and suggest that email may be a temporary solution, given scheduling constraints, and make a call.

“Benji! I am so glad I caught you! You aren’t currently dressing anyone fun? …Not that you can tell me at the moment…..did you ever get contact information for whoever did those designs for Patti Lupone in Ryan Murphy’s Hollywood? I know!!!! "We both squealed. "She looked AMAZING! " we said practically in unison. "So do you have a few minutes? Can I pick your brain? What does a typical day look like for a principal, on location?”

I took notes. Good intelligence and reconnaissance are always important. Turns out there isn’t any typical. It'sseldom what they need to shoot, but rather what got screwed up, what requires different angles, or lighting, or even who needs to be worked around. Maybe the horse is having a bad day.

Maybe I could find out what his interests were, what he’d done, what worked, what didn’t, what he wanted. See if he’d read anything or if he needed to unlearn any foolishness, and in the meantime, I’d do my best to keep my mind from wandering off on tangents about hoping he was switchy. That maybe he wanted to feel what it was like to not be in control, or there were sensations he was very interested in exploring.

Oh, I’d very much like to restrain him and tease him. I would love to see what sorts of noises he might make…. Moans? Growls? Threats? Promises of retaliation? Sharp intakes of breath? I wondered how fun it might be to edge….see how close I could get him to cumming, and then stop. With my hands or my mouth, show him what a woman with very little gag reflex is capable of. Or slow down, or change gears. How many times could I do that, I mean before he exploded?

Part of me KNOWS that he is busy, working. But the asshole who lives in my head cannot resist the opportunity for a stroll around my neuroses. He’s not going to contact you….. Because LOOK AT YOU. It’s good that you’re funny. At least you have that. You had your few minutes. Be grateful for the call and the laughs that you got. It’ll never be anything more. Don’t kid yourself loser.

And can we just talk about THAT for a minute? As someone who spends a bit of time in the public eye, granted a different public, but still.. and who had gotten misquoted and had it taken out of context and then there was a shit storm, you completely understood where that whole debacle had come from. His parents raised him and his brothers to be gentlemen. If he ever even did anything that would make his mother wince, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

And we’re not talking about “ alternative” sexual activities between consenting adults, right? We’re talking about actual consent violations, Harvey Weinstein stuff, the things that make you need a Silkwood shower. He likes wooing women, loves flirting, enjoys that whole interplay, but in the current climate, he could see where there might be a potential minefield.

He’s famous. Why do you think he had to have you sign a non-disclosure that was binding three generations forward? As in your great-grandchildren, yet unborn, couldn’t talk about this? Some people look for an easy out, sell their stories to tabloids. I mean that triad, where one of them was a fucking sex doll? And they ( the other two ) talked about her ( I am assuming her gender pronouns based upon her looks and I shouldn’t, but as the doll is mute it cannot verbalize any other preference) as though the doll were an actual third party in the relationship WHO WAS AN ACTIVE PARTICIPANT.

And when people started talking about it on social media, had all the nerve to be offended that misconceptions were being fostered. Darlings, YOU gave the interview to the tabloid.

So in interview he said ““There’s something wonderful about a man chasing a woman,” he said. “There’s a traditional approach to that, which is nice. I think a woman should be wooed and chased, but maybe I’m old-fashioned for thinking that.” Cavill went on, saying, “It’s very difficult to do that if there are certain rules in place. Because then it’s like: ‘Well, I don’t want to go up and talk to her, because I’m going to be called a rapist or something.’ So you’re like, ‘Forget it, I’m going to call an ex-girlfriend instead, and then just go back to a relationship, which never really worked,’” he said. “But it’s way safer than casting myself into the fires of hell, because I’m someone in the public eye, and if I go and flirt with someone, then who knows what’s going to happen? Now? Now you really can’t pursue someone further than, ‘No.’ It’s like, ‘O.K., cool.’ But then there’s the, ‘Oh why’d you give up?’ And it’s like, ‘Well because I didn’t want to go to jail?’”

And I can see that he’s a) old school and b) loves women.

To silence the asshole that lives in my head, I researched. There’s not a lot of anything about this man to be found on the interwebs. Pictures, Photoshoots, Ad campaigns, that horrid GQ Australia interview.

I can also see that he has no idea what the “new rules are” if one could put words in his mouth.

And he thinks that it would be easier to go back to someone he already had a ‘ relationship ‘ with because it’s a known commodity, even if it didn’t work.

And you can’t fault him for THAT, we’ve all done it.

Oh come on, a show of hands, everyone that had sex with an ex because you really needed sex and the battery-operated boyfriend was not cutting it.

I keep trying to do research, see who and what I’m dealing with. I mean between living my ordinary mortal life, paying bills, fretting about clients, making my productivity numbers. What surprises me is the utter lack of anything even remotely negative about this guy. No one has anything bad to say about him. His third-grade teacher, the kid down the street who used to play toy soldiers with him, heck, even the women he’s no longer dating have NOTHING bad to say about this man.

That tells me one of two things. Either a ) he really is some kind of a pod person and he’s an artificial construct; or b ) he really actually is that nice.

I’m cynical. I have a hard time believing B. But, all the data tells me otherwise. I watch hours of video, read all manner of articles, talk to people that work in the industry. Everyone says the same thing. “ What a great guy, Lovely, really. Nicest man, So kind. Someone you could really just talk to , I mean if he weren’t a world famous superstar. Not at all stuck up”

But, there are some interesting tidbits. Like that whatever that was with that actress from Big Bang Theory. That was a PR stunt. I think they were together for a coffee. He was with Marisa Gonzalo, who is a game hunter……. Odd choice considering his causes, and well she went and posted pictures of their vacation to social media, and whoops, trap door opened and she fell through. I think she engineered that whole thing, finding out the gym where he worked out and putting herself right in his path.

The women he seems to have stayed with the longest are Gina Carano ( The Mandalorian) and The professional show jumper…. what was her name….. they were ENGAGED for crying out loud….. but, the common thread is, I think with those women he didn’t have to hold back. I mean, he could. That’s always an option, to be gentle, soft, tender. But at over six feet, all that training, all that muscle, all…. that….. thrusting power……to HAVE to hold back, because you’re afraid you’ll damage your partner? Actually hurt them? and , you know not in a nice way? Like not in that “ oooh every time I sit down, I get that twinge in my nether regions and then I recall how I got that_ particular_ soreness and it makes me blush, and my undergarments get dampened” that sort of thing? More like “ I think I may have torn something and they might have to put an episiotomy stitch or two in that” sort of thing.”

Come on. We’ve all seen the pictures.

Blue sweat pants. You know EXACTLY the pictures I’m talking about. That is NOT the introductory class. Not by any ( pardon the pun ) stretch of the imagination. { I know, I’ll see myself out }

So I think that is part of why he is looking for additional dimensions to his extra curriculars, as maybe that might be a key. And I can see it. A submissive or a slave would inherently be more willing, more geared to his wants and desires, and if he were the proper sort of ethical owner operator, then he would be more geared to hers. It is after all power exchange, not power theft. If you’re going to surrender your will to another individual it’s based upon a deep level of trust and love that they’re going to cherish you and care for you and not do anything to damage you. That everything is consensual, negotiated and communicated.

It’s like a very complicated but elegant tango, really. So stunning to watch. Mesmerizing, looks effortless, but so much goes into it, years of work and practice, to make it look that seamless and easy. But that’s how he approaches things. This is the person who thought that the leather jerkin for The Witcher needed to look ‘ lived in’ so he lived in it. Slept in it, wore it constantly. Didn’t have some production person do it, HE did it. Does his own stunts. He doesn’t have to, he’s just that invested, and just that authentic. So , if this speaks to him, this power exchange, this Dominance and submission, then he’s going to approach it the same way, I would imagine.

Makes me wonder what he’s up to, wherever he is……

The phone rings.

It’s that odd series of numbers again, and it’s been a while but, I know, he’s busy. International superstar and all that. Filming, training, playing with his Bear Dog Kal. Yes, I know, not actually a bear, but a pretty good impersonation, really.

“ Yes? “

“ Is that how you answer a telephone?”

“Only when I know it’s you, Hero.” Trying to calculate the time difference is making my brain hurt. I light a cigarette and wait.

There’s a few moments of static and silence and then he speaks. Gotcha.

“ I read some of your writing. It’s …… not traditional. I rather like your perspective.”

“Thank you. Was it difficult to locate?”

“ No, not once I had the right parameters.”

“ Well, I do apologize for some of the drivel that surrounded it”.

Again, that laugh. “ That was more what I had come to expect, and not at all what I was looking for, really. “

“ Where do you find the time? “

“ Well, my schedule is a bit unusual, so I have time, it’s just not when one would expect. And I also found those two books. The Third Piano Concerto? Rachmaninoff? That was really quite a tale.”

“It’s one of my favorites. I read it at least once a year, despite the fact I can probably recite it from memory. I’m surprised no one’s made it into a film.”

“ Was that a..?”

“No, no not at all”, and I laughed.

He had some questions about my take on D/s dynamics and how I saw it a bit differently, that I didn’t think it possible that oneperson’s needs could be met simply by meeting the needs of another person. And that it wasn’t possible for it to be elegant gold chains and constant cocksucking, with a platinum butt plug in twenty two hours a day. Real life, you know? We have jobs and families and parents and responsibilities and interests, and fiction isin fact fiction, for a reason.

He talked about how it intrigued him, and I asked him which side of the dynamic. There was a long silence. In fact I wasn’t certain if the connection had been lost, but I waited. He said he wasn’t sure. I said that there was no shame in not deciding, and that it was perfectly reasonable to want to explore prior to making any determination.

“ Did you buy the first Bentley you saw, or did you drive one or two? Maybe take an Aston Martin for a spin? Pretend you were a Bad Guy in a Bond movie and get behind the wheel of a Jaguar? Drive a high end pasta rocket until you realized there is no place to put take away? “

“ Yes, exactly” .

“ What you need is a test drive. You have no idea what you like, but you probably have a better idea of what you don’t, perhaps.”

He paused again. “ Late at night, when I’m by myself, I know what excites me. I know what gets me hard. And it isn’t always the same things. And I’m not certain what to do about that.”

“ They’re fantasies. And they’re yours. You do whatever you like with them. If you want to try them out, great. If you want to keep them to yourself, that’s great too. Some of them are meant to stay in our heads. There’s no judgement. But, you won’t know unless you try. And I’m the safest person to try.”

“ I had hoped you would say that. I really had hoped you would say that “

“ I know. My role is to figure out what it is you want, even if you can’t tell me , or don’t quite know, and then serve it to you, on a silver platter. The term you’re looking for is Service Top.”

The phone calls continued, at odd hours. He would occasionally leave voicemails, saying things like “ I know you’re at work, but I wanted to pick your brain about….. ” or “you’re probably asleep, I don’t know what time it is there…” At one point I suggested emails, so if he wanted to discuss something then he could just send it, and not have to concern himself with time constraints .

I almost wish I hadn’t. I found myself checking my email more often, and my pulse racing when I saw one from him. He was sharp, inquisitive. Had stellar questions and a brilliant mind. Rather unfair, really, to be that good looking, nice AND smart. At this point now I’m starting to look for his Shakespearean tragic flaw. Like, there has to be SOMETHING wrong with him, doesn’t there?

He tells me how production is going, the training and the fight scenes. I give him shit about the comment he made in an interview about Geralt’s leather pants and how they had to change that because the leather would stretch out and then look….. Baggy. “ You ride a Ducati, don’t you? ” “You know that I do.”

“And do you ride in khakis? ”

“No, that would be excessively foolish. One dresses for the fall.”

“ And your riding gear is leather, yes? Does it get…. What was the word you used in the interview? Baggy? ” I was thankful in that moment we weren’t doing video calls. I don’t think I could keep a coherent thought in my head with that face looking right at me, while that voice was speaking to me at the same time. That’s enough to fry a woman’s circuits. Well, mine, anyway. And there was that damned laugh again. It turned my insides to goo. If the heat in my face was any indication, I was probably blushing. And I’m reasonably certain I do not blush.

“So you’re saying if they were made out of the right leather…..?”

“ Exactly. Leather pants should fit like you were dipped in leather, and left to dry. That spectacular ass you work so hard on should be framed like the work of art that it is, and if I’m to be completely candid… ”

“As if I could stop you…”

“ You did contract for my opinion …. You’d be sin personified in the right pair of leather pants. And the right cock ring. But I’m not certain I’d share that vision with anyone. Certainly not the media. There’s quite enough speculation about your endowments, and if we gathered all that up and prominently displayed it, well, I daresay I wouldn’t want to be responsible for the cardiac incidents. ”

I ask him to have his costuming measurements sent. I may have a trick or two up my sleeve. I know someone who does couture leather. Works with theaters and television. He tells me they will be wrapping up soon, and hopefully won’t need reshoots. I ask how much time before the press tour and he says he has maybe a month after they finish shooting, maybe more. “ Hmmmm. A month. That would be a start. Are you ready? ”

There’s a pause. I hear him breathing. I hear ice cubes in a glass. I wait.

“Yes. I mean, I think so. Or, I will be. That didn’t come out right. I sound like an idiot.”

“ You sound honest. Which is the perfect starting point. ”

“ So, what now? ”

“All sorts of things. Fun things, boring things, logistics, because you’re a royal pain in the ass, do you have ANY idea how difficult it is to locate an evil overlord impenetrable lair on short notice? Much less to MY exacting standards? And some basics. Ground rules. Limits. Interests. …I have assignments for you.”

“ Ok. ……Ma'am ”

“Oh, you’re going to be delightful, and probably evil on the other side of the switch. That’s why we need ground rules. And safe words. Ma'am….. Oh you make my cold black heart go pitter patter, Hero. Anticipatory behavior gets rewarded. I’ll mark that in your book. ”

I told him to find an exhaustive list of activities, fetishes and kinks and mark all that he had done, and loved, done and liked, done and didn’t care one way or the other about, done and never wanted to try again, NEVER EVER wanted to try, was interested in but hadn’t done, thought about, and which ones got him harder than Graduate Calculus. He said he would and rang off.

After that phone call I laid there, covered in a light sheen of sweat, panting, cunt throbbing, aching to be completely full of cock, and having to be content with the orgasms I had. I rolled over, lit a cigarette and contemplated the twists my life had taken of late. It was almost incomprehensible. And it occurred to me I hadn’t been paid lately, and I wasn’t entirely certain that I minded. But apparently thinking about it triggered something at the solicitor, and sure enough, another balance notification. I called my friend that did couture leather and asked if they had time to construct a few things. Measurements sent and funds transferred, I felt rather pleased with myself. Very cat with a saucer of cream, you know?

I had gotten the list back of the kinks and fetishes, and, as I expected, he was thorough, and precise. There were things he was interested in exploring, and things he wanted to experience, and he specified which he had done, and which he wanted to do, and from which side of the equation. I smiled. I KNEW he was switchy.

It didn’t change the fact that he had yet to lay eyes on me. That he hadn’t come face to face with the age difference, my additional pounds, and all of that could still be a deal breaker. Oh. Great. Hello, asshole that lives in my head. I figured you would show up about now. I was having too good of a time for you not to destroy it. So, sure, hit the highlight feel and let’s revisit EVERY bad decision I’ve made since third grade. I lit another cigarette. This was going to be a long night.

Now, in the right frame of mind, for the right individual, I can be very submissive. But I’m much more of a bottom. I’d prefer to still be in control….. Ok, we’ll do this ,this, this, you’ll do this to me, this to me, and, then, we will fuck like wild animals…..ready? Go!

Nothing jumped out at me as I went down the list, face fucking, choking, some August Walker shit…. Not surprised…bondage, edging, orgasm control, restraint, ice, wax, knives…..ooooh… I LOVE knives….hair brush spankings, I’ll bet that goes with the Daddy thing…teasing, spanking, hair pulling, oh, yes…..this was going to be fun!

If this was actually going to happen, then I needed to start putting things into motion. I called a friend at Mr. S in San Francisco, and gave them my shopping list. Butter soft leather, custom construction, suspension cuffs, wrist and ankle restraints, a few brand new floggers, one in certain for warm ups, one in buffalo that’s thuddy, almost like a massage, and then I started searching my stored toys.

Paddles, canes, needles, first aid kits, my singletails, harness, dicks, it had been a while since I had a submissive of my own, but, some things a Domme can never part with. It gave me something else to focus on rather than my rising panic. Even if I strapped myself to a treadmill and ate a rice cake a day…..just stop. We are not even going there.

Having extra money means things get done faster, shipped faster and in a matter of days I had the leather pants and all the custom work from Mr S. Yes, I wickedly overpaid. I even bought new leather suitcases. Well, toy bags. Suitcases. Whatever.

The next time the phone rang, it caught me off guard. I had been daydreaming, I suppose. Thinking about actually meeting him. Seeing that face, those eyes, and looking at me, and smiling. I don’t even think I registered the ring tone. “ Hello? ”

"Oh, it’s hello now, is it?“

” Yes, well, one must try to keep some air of mystery…. You must be completely done in. Any new injuries? “

” So far I have been fortunate, the training has really paid off. I am looking forward to not wearing contact lenses for a while. “

We talked about Kal, the press schedule, what was next, the new Netflix movie and I said I really like the longer curls. "Just enough to grab a hold of” and he got quiet.

“ And where do you think we’ll be going? Know of an island, do you? Where they won’t impound Kal? Someplace you don’t get mobbed? Wait, I know… Another planet? You haven’t even told me your name.

"Did I cross a line?”

“ No. … I …. Just….. ”

“You think you might enjoy that. You’re surprised I mentioned it. I think there’s a great deal you may enjoy. And I’ll have you know I’m working very hard to not sing ’ A Whole New World’ from Aladdin very off key. I’m a terrible singer but enthusiastic. But that’s….”

“ not the point” he interrupted. “These phone calls and emails are great. But I… We…. Can’t make any inroads this far apart. I know you’ll need a two week head start, for quarantine, even if you have a negative Covid test. ”

“And you haven’t even asked my name. “

And I hung up the phone and I had a good cry.

I did a few laps in my pity pool, a bit of water ballet, since I was already wet, and then I shook it off. You’re too old for that flavor of foolishness, I told myself, and I tried to get on about my business. All right, maybe I did need a bit more concealer than usual, but, that’s not the point.

My work was rewarding. Exhausting but rewarding and I dearly loved my clients. About three hours into my day a delivery man arrived, asking for me. My director pointed my office out and an enormous floral arrangement came around the corner. It looked like it was moving under its own power, since the person carrying it was actually obscured from view. White roses, green roses, hyacinth and Lily of the valley. Fresh start, new beginnings, and deeply traditional apology flowers. They smelled heavenly. I had no idea where I was going to put them. They were bigger than the clear space on my desk. I thanked the delivery person and went to get my work bag to tip them. “Oh, no, ma'am, that’s been taken care of, more than generous, really, thank you.”

I reached for the card.

My darling, can I call you that? Of course I DO know your name, Lord knows I’ve moaned it a time or two in the recent weeks, I’m surprised you didn’t feel me. I feel that connected to you.

I knew right the moment it went pear shaped, and I didn’t mean to come off as such a wanker. I just thought you felt it too. If you don’t forgive me, I shall have no other alternative than to learn the Rach Three, and join the French Foreign Legion.

Yours,

Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill

ps did I mention how absolutely sorry I am? Can I make it up to you over dinner? At four, your time?

What the apricot flavored fuck was he up to?Dinner? At four? Ok, that completely fits with my schedule,but he’s on the other side of the planet, and I’m not sure how this works. Instead, I wafted on the intoxicating fragrance of the flowers, tucked the note VERY close to my heart, and smiled when everyone and their cousin wanted to know why I got flowers.

“Just because I’m amazeballs."

” Damn straight.. That in fact you are! “

“All right I’m handing out homework for group, cause Miss Rona is no fun at all. Get it back to me TOMORROW, or you don’t get credit! “

I wish I had video of me trying to get this arrangement of flowers into my two seater. That was all flavors of funny. There was no way it went in the trunk, it didn’t quite fit on the floorboard, I didn’t want have to put the top down and let the wind at highway speed have at it. But, I prevailed, got it in the house and managed to make a section presentable for a zoom date. I stood in front of my closet for a good 45 minutes, freaking out. What do I wear? All dressed? Casual? Waist up? Alluring? Slutty? Screw that. It’s August. The temperature is best described as Satan’s front porch. Elegant and comfortable. Maybe my stomach will settle and I won’t throw up.

At precisely 3:45 my doorbell rings, and it is delivery people. I open the door and they come in and set up a small table , set it, plate the food, put some things in the kitchen and leave!

Food’s out, my mouth watering, and you have an upcoming video talk with possibly the world’s most good looking man. Nothing to panic about, at all.

I look and find a case of all the different flavors of No 1 water and remind myself to thank him for that as well. Mint. Ok. Let’s give that a try.

And throwing any and all caution ( and self preservation, I suppose) to the wind, I power up the laptop, and click the zoom link in the email.

Yes, by the way, it IS possible to drink a half a bottle of No 1 mint water in one swallow, especially if you’re desert parched and nervous as fuck.

And then my heart stops. And I swear to every God and Goddess I can recall, time stands still, and I’m praying that my mouth is not hanging open, because he is perfection. The angles of his cheekbones. That jaw line. Oh my God those blue eyes. Literally I could just fall into them, and never be heard from again, and I would be ok with that. The slightly messy sable curls, begging to have hands run through it, and all of this is short circuiting my poor overloaded brain in the space of SECONDS.

"Hi”

Seriously? Hi??? Is that the best you can do? You blithering idiot. Just turn off the computer, and find a hole to crawl into.

" Thank you for accepting my apology, and my dinner invitation. I really am sorry that I made such a dog’s dinner of it. I just, well, we were getting on so well, and it was comfortable, and I made a cock up of it. “

I remembered to breathe. In and out. You’ve been doing it for years…

” Well, I suppose I will let it go this once, but I reserve the privilege of punishing you later. “ And I smiled.

He looked down for an instant and then back at me, through his lashes, and there was a wicked twinkle there that wasn’t present before. "Deal.”

Dinner was delicious, and if I told you I recalled what I ate, it would be a bald-faced lie. It was eleven in Hungary, and the end of a long day for him, I’m certain, but the conversation was easy and light and a little flirty. I have no idea when I grew a set of balls that big, but, since no one had come back to tell me that reincarnation was a thing, I might as well swing for the fences. At about the two hour mark, I realized I was probably being very selfish and I should let him get to bed, and said as much.

"That’s the thing that technology lacks…“

” what’s that? “ I asked

"At the end of a marvelous date, I would see you home, and then I would take you in my arms, and I would kiss you. First kisses are important. You can tell a great deal about a person from how they approach a kiss.”

" You mean like long, slow, soft, wet, deep kisses, that last three days? “

"And the small of a woman’s back, and opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve”

"Thank you for a lovely evening, Henry"

"Thank you, y/n"

The next morning there was an email.

***The other thing I rather dislike about current technology is that I would have preferred to write this to you on proper paper. With an actual pen. There is something about the right paper stock, the feel of it, how the ink glides along the page. I do so love handwritten correspondence. Perhaps we can make that part of our dynamic. That is what we are constructing, is it not? I would hate to think we were not, for I feel as though we are, and I find myself floating in it, and at the oddest moments.

I spend, as you might guess, a great deal of time in make up and hair, and I use the time to go over lines and scripts ,changes, fight choreography, and then I see your eyes, laughing, with me, and I feel warm inside, and content. In a way I can’t quite put into words, but I definitely want more of, and soon. I think of things I want to talk to you about, and there is so much that I don’t know. I really should start keeping a list. I think about how your hair fell in front of your face during dinner, and the way that your voice changes in tone and how that does something to me. I want to lose myself in you. Can I do that? Will you allow me that?

The difference in our age doesn’t make a DAMN bit of difference to me. I find you captivating, elegant and so very real. You intrigue me and I need more. I suppose you may already know I had a relationship of some importance with a woman older than I, when I first came to the US. It’s odd, talking about it, now, with you, and when I think back to almost being cast in ‘50 Shades’, well, it’s rather ironic, isn’t it? And, oddly no one batted so much as an eyelash when I was romantically involved with a girl not old enough to drink in a pub.

I would love to be able to run away with you. Please let’s make that a reality. I have about four more weeks here and then I could get away. Anywhere you like. I want to be able to court you properly, hold you, kiss you, feel your hand in mine. If you leave in two weeks, your quarantine will be completed by the time I arrive.

Are you up for an adventure, y/n? Take a chance, on us? On this?***

I’m certain the word I was looking for was gobsmacked.

I had a difficult time staying focused all day and started and rewrote at least seven or eight emails in response. But my mind kept wandering off of its own volition.

He and I laying in the sun, laughing, Kal playing in the shallow end of the pool, secluded enough that I was working on an all over tan, and didn’t feel the need to dress. The kitchen was stocked, so we had no need to go anywhere and were free to enjoy each other’s company.

I got up and walked to the outdoor honeymoon shower to cool off and Henry came over and stepped behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and placed his head on top of mine. He pulled me into his embrace and we were both standing under the fall of water. I turned, and lifted my face to his. He gently brushed his lips with mine and I pressed my lips to his and leaned into the kiss. His tongue darted between my lips and I moaned, my nipples pebbling with desire and the added friction of the hair on that rock solid wall of a chest. My hands slid up his back and I pulled myself closer to him, still kissing, our tongues dueling for dominance and I can feel Henry getting hard.

"You’re incorrigible, like some randy teenager, aren’t you?“

” And maybe I’m just happy to see you"

“Maybe you’re just like Big Dick Richie and you finally found the pussy that fits that monster. How long has it been since you didn’t have to hold back?”

"About an hour or two" and he picked me up and slowly impaled me, inch by delicious inch on that weapon he calls a cock.

In between clients and panty dampening daydreams, I managed to formulate a response.

*****Ok, Hero,

Somehow, I knew you’d be a pen and paper sort of gent. And I would wager you’re particular about your choice of pens. Has to have the right heft, glide just right across the paper. I have specifications about pens myself.

Somewhere secluded. No press. I can go anywhere, and no one will notice me. You, on the other hand will cause a stir anywhere you go. Has to be someplace Kal can go. This isn’t going anywhere if the baby bear decides I’m not ok. I wouldn’t have anything to do with someone my dog didn’t trust.

I’ve probably spent more time than I should have thinking about kissing you, holding your face in my hands, losing myself in those eyes, and building this whatever this is. We will need some ground rules, safe words, and I would imagine your preferences, needs, wants and requirements will come into play. You’ll need to keep up your training, I’ll need to be aware of any dietary issues. There’s probably someone you trust enough for me to coordinate with on this, I would imagine.

I apologize. This is rather choppy, stream of consciousness, isn’t it? Multitasking, let me show you it. Or, maybe you just want to go home? Simple enough to get me into the UK, stick me in a hotel for two weeks and then it’s done and you have all the comforts of home. I can bring what I need and with minimal fuss, we can begin.

Your choice.****

So how IS this going to work? I mean , really? I keep telling myself this is ridiculous. I mean, for all of the reasons that my brain keeps playing on death loop; and then some. Let’s see, I could:

Go do medical tourism, have a frame off restoration, get an entire body lift and then MAYBE feel good enough to perhaps get caught by a photographer within twenty miles of him.

Invent a really good cover story about who I was and why I was anywhere near him.

Become some long misplaced relation who was lost to adoption two generations ago. Some charity case he took pity upon.

Believe me, it just gets worse from there. My brain is a very inhospitable place.

Instead, I forced myself to think a tad more pragmatically.

I looked at the list of things he wanted to do, and thought of the things I was willing to do and decided it was time to begin something that looked like negotiation in the time of the pandemic.

****Hello Handsome:

How are things in Dorking? Which, I have to say is probably the most aptly named place in the hemisphere, since you’re there, you dork. I hope they’re at least being kind to you and not beating you up too badly. With any luck, you’ll save some of that for me.

I’m compiling a list of *activities* and some of them intersect. I can’t say I’m too keen on arm wrestling you to see who gets to top first, so we shall defer to age before beauty. Treachery over youth and skill? There is a skill set that goes with some of these toys, and while it is referred to as play, some of them are considered weapons, and can do damage.

First things first. Safety and trust. If you didn’t trust me, we wouldn’t even be considering this, and at any point you can use a safe word. I won’t assume you know what that is. I will go from the concept that you know nothing and we can adjust from there. it should be a word that doesn’t come up in every day conversation, that’s unique enough that it won’t be misunderstood, but not so complex that you may forget it. For instance, the word I usually use is aardvark. But, in your case, maybe I’ll change that to kryptonite.

I am imagining you laughing. I hope you’re laughing. I’m laughing.

I will never damage you. I will hurt you, and ideally, you’ll like it. I hope to cause you exquisite pain. Erotic anguish. It is what you said you wanted. Been spending any time thinking about it? I have.

Anything that might cause marks will need to be healed back up by the time you have to be on set, or be able to be camouflaged. How do you tend to heal? Do you bruise easily? And never the face. Dear Gods no, not that face. We’ll start slow and go at what ever pace you feel comfortable. I honestly don’t think I can harm you and I’m probably more likely to injure myself on the mountain that is you.

Speaking of injuries, I expect you’ll pay for any damage you do. We may need to find a concierge physician who makes discreet calls. I might have a hard time explaining how I was injured. Should things go really sideways and I perish, I would only ask that you provide for my daughter. Nothing extravagant, just so that she is ok. And she doesn’t need to know where it came from, and it just needs to be enough to keep a roof over her head and gas in her car. Other than that, I don’t really think anyone will make that much of a ruckus. You’ll figure out a way to dispose of my remains. Make me into a diamond, put me in a pinkie ring.

I don’t think I’m destructible. I’m pretty hearty. Now if you want to have a training buddy, I’m down for that too. I could stand to be more fit, and would love a bit more flexibility. I can cook, and will learn what you like. But, there are some ….. concerns. I smoke. You drink.

I know you used to smoke and you’re extraordinarily health conscious, but I don’t have any intentions of quitting. So we will have to figure out some compromise. You drink and I’m twenty seven years clean and sober. I’m not going to tell you not to drink, but I don’t ever want that flavor profile in my mouth, not even in kisses. Something tells me I am going to love kissing you.

We’ll have to figure out a work around for that as well.

However I do think the part you’ll like the best is not having to hold back. Whatever it is, I can take it. And I look forward to you trying to wreck me.

Sweet dreams*****

And then I hit send. And cackled

Instead of an email, I received an attachment.

Not a picture, but a video. I guessed it was a “This is where we are shooting, and here’s my dog, and see how I look before they put this wig on me, or I thought I’d say hello while I was waiting for all the prosthetic scars to dry. “

You know, cell phone video of Dorking, wave hi to my cast mates, here’s where Joey fell into a mud puddle, that sort of thing.

Oh. No. While that may have been what I was expecting, that was not what I got. I clicked the link and damn near died. It was cell phone video, no doubt there, and I knew precisely whom. Panning down that rock solid chest sprinkled with all that chest hair he kept teasing to the women ( And men) of the planet…. and I thought about the nights I dreamt of my face buried in that chest hair, sweaty, satisfied, using him as a human weighted blanket. In my dreams he protested, said he was too heavy, surely I must be crushed by him, and I smiled trying to find the words to tell him how happy it made me, how safe I felt.

My eyes traveled down the eight pack…yes. Holy smokes he has an actual EIGHT pack. Is that even possible? Can humans do that? And I can hear him….

“Do you see what you do to me? One dinner? A few phone calls, some emails and look at this…..”

And God help me, I could not tear my eyes away. His hand, stroking up and down his very erect ,even bigger than I had extrapolated, beautiful thick huge cock. It took my breath away. My heart started to pound. I wished I was closer. I could see the pre cum leaking from the tip and my tongue licked my lips in anticipation. What I wouldn’t give to be able to show him in person what a grown ass woman with no gag reflex can do.

He was purring. That’s what it sounded like, a back of the throat kind of growly thing and his hand was moving faster, and I swear he said “ I’m hard like this almost constantly, dreaming about what will happen when we can actually be together, I want you…..” and he moans, and tightens his grip , and speeds up. His cell must be propped up, because I can see his other hand cupping his balls.

And his abs tightened up and ropes of cum splashed all over his taut stomach, watching some of it slide down those sinful iliac furrows……now I know why gay men call those cum gutters, and I swear I was drooling. I just wanted to lick him clean. My nipples were so hard they hurt and my pussy throbbed with need.

Muttering and cursing under my breath about the time difference I sent back a text message.

* Breakfast looked delicious. Wish I could have helped with that. I’ll see what I can do to make that worse, later. Flights and scheduling are up to you. Good night and sweet dreams, Solo.

You bastard.

Destroyed me, for days you did. Can’t even think properly and all I see when I close my eyes is that…..Dear God above. I’m dripping. Just dripping wet.

W A P indeed. This is ridiculous. My thighs are sticky, my panties are ruined, and I cannot stop thinking about that concealed weapon and how well you wield it.

You owe me a slew of sex toys. So many of those poor defenseless mechanical bastards lost their lives because of you, their numbers decimated, families destroyed….. “ mum, why won’t daddy ever be coming back to the bedside drawer? He’s been gone so long. I’m worried…. ” She doesn’t know how to tell her poor insertable battery operated offspring bout the power surge that cost da his life, and how hurled across the room in frustration, he had shattered on impact, and they couldn’t even have a proper burial…..

Oh I’d get so goddamned close, feel my center coiling up, tighter and tighter, nerve endings on fire…muscles tensing, cunt throbbing

, My toes would curl, and my legs would shake, and I’m making all sorts of noise…….And then…..

Slipped through my grasp, and I’m whimpering in frustration. What’s worse, is I can see you doing that for little lip biting thing that you do, trying to appear sympathetic, whilst at the same time trying not to laugh, and failing that, you actually laugh out loud. A deep resounding belly laugh. The infectious kind that has everyone else laughing. Mocking me.

So I don’t dare mention it.****

And the tension builds. I become testy. I descend into irritated. I have genuine concerns that I will make the complete transition to bitey angry velociraptor and lose the ability to morph back, or occasionally pass for humanoid. A best friend took pity on me and sent me this fantastic toy her girlfriend swears by. One end is insertable, it’s rechargable, has a billion different intensities, and then the other part is , how do I describe it? Well, there’s an indentation. More like a hole, really. And that’s where your clit goes.

It isn’t like it actually comes with instructions. That’s fair. Neither do we.

So, I messed with it. Some of the intensities were lovely. Some of them were waaay too much. A few of them annoyed me. I’ve never been a fan of the start stop thing. Apparently, there was some sort of harmonic convergence, and everything lined up, nudge nudge wink wink, and between the internal stimulation and the external felt almost like sucking, I swear.

Well, the top of my head came clean off, the skies opened up, the choir of angels sang to me, and you KNOW they all looked EXACTLY like him.

I think I passed out. I’m not certain how long I was blissed out, but I can say it put a smile on my face, and restored my faith in humanity. I was also no longer evil.

Once again fit for human consumption I resume sunshine and rainbow emails. “ Hi! How’s your day been? ” That sort of shit. He’s pretty but he’s not stupid. Video call request. Uh oh.

" Would you like to tell me what is actually going on? “

” Since you were kind enough to give me a choice, no, I would rather not. It’s embarrassing. Would you be satisfied with I have it sorted now? “

” No, I don’t believe I will. And, I love the haircut. Quite fetching"

I blushed, which was even more embarrassing. I don’t blush.

"Thank you. I needed a change. They pushed my start date back on my new job, and I was struggling a bit “

"You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet about that video I sent, and that took a great deal of trust and nerve on my part…”

" oh my stars! I can ONLY imagine and I may never have the words to tell you what sort of an effect that has…. Ummm…. Had….. I really think this is a conversation better had in person…… This is…. gah…..I …. Damn you. I used to be articulate. “

And then he laughed. I slapped the webcam away so it stared at the wall. I was going to need a minute to pull my shit together.

"Y/n? Are you there? Where did you go?”

" Just a second. …. “

I flipped the camera back, features all in place. ” Sorry. I know. I’m hysterical. If I’d had the opportunity to do stand up school you might have seen me rather than Jon at Fringe Festival. “

"But I want to see you. I hate that you have to quarantine.”

"Montenegro and Rwanda have no quarantine requirements. However, I don’t know that either of them are a ) recommended or more importantly, safe for Kal. There’s always Dubai and French Polynesia" I said laughing .

" I’m pretty sure you just want to go home, sleep in your own bed and have your own routine. I get that. There isn’t anywhere you can be invisible. I on the other hand, already am. So, if you want me somewhere, then, you make that happen. My needs are simple. Books, coffee, life water, or maybe you know someone who can actually hook me up with that botanical water I keep hearing about, that I can’t freaking get in the middle of the US? IfI have to stay put in one place for two weeks, ideally I’d love to smoke, I’ll need to eat occasionally, and a treadmill would be the cherry on top. Don’t you have people for things like that, Hero? “

And I smiled at him, with a devilish twinkle in my eye, because, now, it’s ON.

In retrospect, perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned that they pushed back my start date. I mean, I didn’t think anything of it. He was working , for fuck’s sake. Damn Netflix to eight hells for telling me there is a thing that exists called Inside the Episodes, and then when I go to play it? Oh, NO, y/n. You may not have this viewing pleasure. I’m starting to think it’s a conspiracy.

Two days later, there’s a knock at the door. I get my firearm, and I answer. Look, I’m American. I know that the neighborhood I live in can be a bit touch and go and don’t get me started on the “entertainment” that emanates from next door, but I don’t get visitors, and no one just knocks on the door. I look out, and it’s a man in a well tailored black suit, and there’s an SUV in my driveway. What the fuck?

I open the door, Glock at my side, behind the door frame, “Can I help you?”

“ Are you Y/n L/n? ”

“ Yes, but there must be some … ” the man hands me an envelope.

“I’ve been instructed to wait in the car”, and he turns on his heel and walks back to the SUV, gets behind the wheel and states straight ahead. I’m looking for a camera. What kind of stunt is this? I shut the door, put down the gun, light a cigarette and open the envelope.*****I’m tired of waiting. I enjoy the getting to know each other part, but distance is not helping. Throw some things in a bag, and come on. If you forget something, I’m certain it can be duplicated. You had mentioned you may have picked up a few things. I hope you don’t forget those.

And he signs it;

“Tired of being Solo”

Did I mention it was on?

Well I’ve had a bit of experience packing for trips, there was a time in recent memory when I was traveling thirty six weekends out of fifty two. I am quite talented at gathering what I need, making sure it fits in an appropriate case, that I can manage, and have the right things in the requisite number of carry on bags. In precisely thirty seven minutes, I locked the house, engaged the alarm and startled the driver by knocking on his window.

“Did you want to unlock the door so I can put this in the back seat, please? ”

Myself situated, bag on the floorboard opposite side and my purse and carry on next to me, I assumed this would be a very short ride to the airport. I’m literally minutes away. The driver asked me if I wanted to smoke. I laughed and said I did but it wasn’t allowed in hired cars. He told me it was in this one. I said that I didn’t see the point as we be at the airport in minutes. “No, ma'am. Begging your pardon. I’m to take you to ….” and he looks at a screen. …And says “Spirit Airfield”. Ok. NOW, I’m smoking.

[msnetherlands]

Strangers in Paris 2

Hello,

I’m still very new to writing FanFiction, so please be kind!

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (no race, tan skin, average body type)

Warning: NSFW, 18+, smut, sex, oral sex, dirty talk.

Word count: Approx 1.1k

I do not own August Walker, Henry Cavill, etc.

Tags: #HenryCavill #HenryCavillSmut #HenryCavillFanFiction #AugustWalker #AugustWalkerSmut #AugustWalkerFanFiction

Strangers in Paris 2

You woke up to light street noise and a sliver of light coming from the open curtains. You were warm in your bed, but the other side was cold. It was empty. You were alone. You remembered the night you had with August – gosh, it was mind blowing! But you figured, like most men, he would leave in the morning.

You got out of bed and were starting to get ready for the day, there was still plenty you wanted to see and explore on your last day in Paris. Even though you were clean from the sweet aftercare bath the night before, you decided a shower would at least help you wake up.

As the water ran over you in the shower, you heard what sounded like the door. A slight panic hit – who could be in my room?

“Good morning sweetheart!” August’s deep, sexy voice was unmistakable and you felt relieved when you realized it was him. “I hope you don’t mind I swiped your room key to go out to grab coffee and some pastries.”

You peaked out of the shower curtain. “Oh, that’s fine, thank you for breakfast.” Although you kept your cool, behind the shower curtain you were smiling that he was still around.

“So, what do you have planned for today?” August asked as you turned off the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel.

“Well, it’s my last full day here. There are a few places left that I wanted to check out,” you replied, using one hand to hold your towel in place and the other to thumb through your itinerary. “but nothing too crazy, and nothing on a set schedule.”

“Hmm, so we don’t have to be anywhere particularly soon, eh…” August said a bit deviously. He put his coffee cup down and walked over to you. He took your hand and removed it from the top of your towel. He leaned down and kissed you light and tenderly, snaking his hand around your waist under the towel. The towel completely slipped off and was now piled on the floor. One hand grabbed your waist and the other was making its way to your ass. He gave you a firm squeeze.

“Are you feeling up to it sweetheart?” August asked when your lips parted. You knew he was probably referring to the rough sex last night.

“Yes, I’m ok.”

“Good, because I couldn’t wait to take you when I saw you this morning. You looked so beautiful sleeping peacefully this morning with your juicy ass peaking out the covers.” August brushed your hair back. “It made me want to wake you up by ramming you from behind. But I didn’t want to hurt you if were still, um, recovering.”

“That’s really considerate of you.” You said while trying to give him your best bedroom eyes.

“But now that I know you are feeling better…” August said as he pushed you backwards to the bed and you both laughed knowing where this was going.

He kissed you while massaging your clit with one hand. Soon August started trailing soft and wet kisses from your mouth down to your inner thigh.

“Sweetheart, you’re so wet,” August said. “I can’t wait to taste your drenched cunt.”

August didn’t waste any time eating you out, your moans only encouraging him more.

“August, I don’t want to cum just yet.” You plead with him to delay your release. You craved his huge cock.

“Well, I have something else you can do then…” August dragged you by your ankles to the end of the bed and pushed you to your knees in front of the foot of the bed. He unzipped his slacks and slipped out of them. “Open up.” He said nudging your lips with his fully erect cock. Without breaking eye contact you opened and took him into your mouth.

As you started bobbing your head back and forth, August lifted his shirt above his head and threw it to the side. You looked up at him, he was staring down at you with his mouth partly open and an intense look in his eyes. He laced a hand through your damp hair, holding your head in place as he increased the pace and fucked your mouth.

“Oh yes, sweetling, suck me. You like my cock in your mouth don’t you, you fucking slut.” You couldn’t keep up and had spit running down your chin dripping onto your chest. “Those wet titties are giving me an idea…”

While still on your knees he leaned your back against the edge of bed and placed your hands so your tits pressed together. He slipped his huge cock between your breasts and started to titty fuck you.

The sensation of his cock between your tits felt hot.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you, you dirty slut.” August fiercely stated. His cock was so long it poked out the top of your tits and you bent your neck down taking the tip in your mouth and sucking it. “Thirsty girl, are we?” You agreed with a moan.

August chuckled as he used the hand gripped in your hair to pull you up, catching your throat with his other hand and kissed you passionately. He threw you on the bed. It was aggressive and hot all at the same time.

As you lay on your back, August walked over to his jacket and pulled out a condom. He put it on as he walked back over to you, his deep blue eyes burning your skin as he looked at you hungrily. He grabbed your legs splitting them like scissors and thrusted his cock into you. “I fucking love your wet cunt!”

Holding your ankles, August pounded into your pussy as you squeezed your own tits, bouncing with every push. His thrusts got harder and forceful with each drive.

Soon your orgasm flooded over your body and you couldn’t see straight. August pulled out, slipping off the condom, and coming over our chest. August absolutely battered your cunt.

“You were amazing sweetheart.” August said coming down to cage you in and kiss you. You couldn’t answer, you were too busy catching breath and distracted by how your sex throbbed. “Oh darling, was that too much?”

You gave him a small smile to let him know that you were satisfied despite the roughness.

“Let me get you some ice.” August got up, put on his pants, grabbed the ice bucket and your key card and headed out to the ice machine.

Even though you were well rested you were already feeling drained and energized somehow at the same time.

August returned with ice and placed a few on a washcloth.

“Here sweetling,” he placed the makeshift ice pack on your battered pussy. It instantly soothed your used sex.

“Thank you.” You replied to his attentive aftercare.

[sciapod]

A Raven’s Song

Sultry poetry!

Gotta give some praise and an honorable mention to @littlefreya , because I’ve been reading her The Way to Hell-series and it seems Ingvild and August are crawling under my skin. I didn’t directly think of them while writing this, but reading it again, I clearly sense the inspiration. 🖤🥀🖤

Imagine this as an August Walker POV; him speaking these words.

Warnings: This includes mention sex and violence. 18+ under the cut.

Masterlist

---

My girl. We kiss, we hold hands, we touch each other ever so gently.

Other times we bite, we hurt, we nearly strangle… We molest each other with devilish passion.

I watch with intrigue as men hurt you, ravish you. Spoil you.

Make you cum. Make you unravel, loosen up. Give in, give up. So we can give ourselves to each other; a tight embrace.

Closeness. Divinity. Divination in each other's eyes and hearts.

I see you, my love, as deeply as I sense that you see me.

It’s a sensibility I have.

Similar to the sensibility I have for darkness, dark experiences and emotions.

They drive me. They make me strive to become better. Do you better. Do better for you. Pleasure you. Be there for you, if you will have me, in times of need.

I need you. Please.

Walk with me. Talk with me. Talk to me. Hear me. Listen.

The raven sings. It’s singing. It's a love song. A song for you, my life. My love. Do you hear? Do you feel it in your chest?

My heart is pounding. The drumbeat to the raven’s melodies and love-songs. Serenade.

Let’s go back home, drink lemonade.

We can put in some alcohol, if you want. Get drunk. Make love. Compassionate, passionate, devotional love to each other.

My devotion is you, to you, my love. Purely. My love is tainted yet at once pure. It’s only source, the only goal is you, your heart.

If you want it. My love. Mine. You are. My heart. Do you hear? Feel it?

Put your hand on my chest, my love. My life. Feel the beat behind my ribcage.

There is a bird in there; captured, encaged. In rapture, enraged, in love and dazed. Bewildered, seeking forgiveness. Seeking expression. There aren’t enough words to explain, to express. My love, my life. You. My heart.

My raven. It sings, it sings such a beautiful song. If you could only hear. If you would only listen. To my love, my life, my heart.

It’s here for you, my love. My heart’s for you, my life. My raven sings, flutters, as my heart, for you, my dear.

My utmost devotion, all that I have to give. Do you feel it? With your gentle touch?

Hit me, hurt me, as long as you feel me, hear my call, my song, my expression.

Tears run down my face, do you see? Do you see how strong my love is? My heart? My bird?

It’s crashing in my chest, it’s pounding in the cage, bursting through. I can’t hold back.

---

Thanks for reading. Please comment and share if you enjoyed it 🖤 Tags in the reblog.

[littlefreya]

Bourbon and Candy

Summary:  After a frustrating day at work, August just wants to sit down and enjoy his princess, in any way possible.

Pairing: August Walker x OFC

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: Smutty Smut, Daddy Kink (alert!), stripping, oral sex on a man, possessiveness, sex, depiction of bodily fluids.  

A/N: I saw this photo and was inspired to write about August watching his girl perform for him. Many thanks @agniavateira​ for being my editor and my muse 💕 Hope you’ll enjoy.

Title: Bourbon and Candy

The harsh CIA agent sits on the sofa wearing a strained look on his face. It has been a long, frustrating day at work and he hasn’t even had the chance to take off his suit. He stirs the bourbon in its lowball, watching the little vortex that forms in the agitated golden-brown liquid

And there she is, his little kitten. She sneaks into the great living room with the  obvious intent to welcome him back. Wearing makeup like an actress from an old French movie, she dons a sheer pink babydoll dress over a luxurious lace lingerie set and golden high heeled shoes. 

Diamonds sparkle on her skin as the sunlight kisses them through the open window. She never owned diamonds before, she’s  not a materialistic girl, but August loves seeing her adorned with expensive necklaces and bracelets as if she is a doll to play with.    

And his to covet.

With a sweet smile of her face, she begins to dance for him in slow, snake-like movements. Her hands caress her soft skin, twirling her long dark hair before she throws it back and lets it fall against her rounded ass. 

August sips the bourbon and grits his teeth as the spiced liqueur hits the back of his throat. His eyes fix on the treasure, the way those slender hands run through her own body sinfully, approaching the mysteries that belong to him, where his big rough hands should be. He muses to himself; the only person allowed to touch her except for himself is her, and only when he permits it.      

The first article of clothing, if you could call it that, falls from her body like a feather floating down the air. She kicks it away with her high heel and pushes her shoulders closer to squeeze her breasts against one another as they’re still locked inside that lacy Victoria Secret’s bra. 

Also a present from her dear love. Cotton-candy pink, of course. He loves her sweet, the way she is. 

The bulge in his trousers becomes overwhelmingly evident. She eyes it while letting the strap fall off from her shoulder, sucking her lips and putting a finger inside her mouth to let him know how badly she wants to taste his cock. August places the empty glass on the end table next to the sofa, the sound sharp against the surface. He places his knuckles against his mouth and ogles her with pure fascination while his other hand rubs at his erection to slightly ease the need.

She exposes her delicious breasts, hugging a hand over them while her bra slips between her fingers. A large smile slowly spreads on his face. He loves it when his kitten acts so innocent, it makes his cock twitch with double the excitement.

There is an ocean of admiration in his eyes for his little pet, his little piece of gold in a pile of coal that is this horrible world. In her, he sees all that��s pure and delicate in this world, the sweet among the bitter. He likes to pretend she was a virgin when he met her, even though she told him she wasn’t, never wanting to lie to a man like August. Yet he’d like to think he’s the only man who picked her ripe fruits and every time he fucks her, his dirty soul defiles her body and steals some of the purity in her soul.   

At last, she reaches for her underwear. Her dance moves are stilled as she looks deeply into those beautiful malicious blues and allows the flimsy piece of lace fall from her thighs, exposing her silky smooth mound. 

Just the way he likes it.

“Leave those on.” He commands, seeing as she means to take off her jewelry. 

Ever so obedient, she nods and then sensually crouches on the floor, crawling naked on the carpet, hair thrown back and resting on her back.She moves to where he is seated with his legs spread conveniently to accept her while massaging the bulge in his groin. 

He swallows the lump in his throat, watching his kitten give him that sweet naive look. She gazes at him with big eyes, adoring her master, greatly devoted to him. She presses her cheek against his thigh, humming gently as he entangles his fingers in her soft hair. 

“My sweet girl,” he murmurs, tilting his head while looking at her dreamingly. Her creme-painted nails scratch at the hard bulge, tracing the metal of his belt buckle against her tips.    

“May I, daddy?” She asks for permission and is granted a pleasant smile as his hand waves away from her head, allowing her space to work on freeing his painful cock from the captivity of his trousers. Her nimble fingers do quick work on his belt. The sound of leather slipping through the metal clasp makes her shiver and the rich juices that drip from between her legs are becoming a burden, but she is not allowed to touch herself yet.

It’s forbidden.  

August growls as her hand sneaks into his trousers, her small digits taking him in her palm, appreciating how vast and beautiful he is. She shifts her thumb across the pulsating veins, trailing across the ridged surface until reaching the head of his cock where sheer precum drops greet her sight. 

His groans are melody to her ears, music that makes her heart flutter and her core throb. She wants him to unload himself in her in any way he chooses. 

Nothing in her body is scared anymore anyway, he made sure of it. 

She lowers herself, breasts brushing against the soft material of his trousers as her tongue slips between her lips to taste him. Her velvet tongue swirls around the tip, eliciting the most pleasant groans from his beautiful lips. Carefully, he is taken into the warmth of her mouth while her gaze is fixed on his and his cock disappears between her succulent lips. 

August throws his head back, relaxing as his kitten works her mouth up and down his big shaft. Her back arching, her ass sticking in the air behind her. An erotic view for him to feast upon with his ocean blues. 

But it’s not enough. He needs more, he needs to be buried deep inside her lush walls, to have his anger surge through her body and cleanse his soul.

His fingers cup her chin, gently pausing her ministrations. There’s a slight worry in her eyes, afraid she might have wronged him in any way but the enamoured look in his eyes relaxes the surge of anxiety that runs through her heart. 

He takes her hand and guides her to sit on top of him. Legs spread with knees to each side of his hips, she sinks herself onto his meaty erection, gasping as he spreads her walls inch by inch until he is sunken in her depth. Her ankles lift in the air, the heels of her shoes point upward as her head falls back. 

“You’re so big!” She yelps, nearly powerless, feeling full with his cock reshaping her taut canal. The tightness of her cunt makes it impossible to move so she remains still, keeping him inside her abundant warmth. 

He grips her ass, squeezing the flesh and guiding her, bouncing her on his cock while taking her breasts into his mouth. His teeth nip at the tender flesh and then licks at the hollows that his teeth created. 

The thrill of the pain and the comfort that comes after makes her body comply with his invasion.,He leaves her no choice anyway, he will keep going even if it hurts, but he’d rather have her enjoy herself as well.

“Good,” he groans, watching her as she begins to ride him, swaying her hip and dancing on his cock, letting her clit grind against him with every shift she makes. He thrusts up to meet her pace, biting his teeth as he enjoys the desperate look on her beautiful face. She looks as if it hurts to have him in there yet the pain brings her so much pleasure. Her body wants to resist and take him at once whilst she is driven into madness by desire. 

Fire begins to tingle in her core, increasing her pace. Something inside her breaks, and his little angel turns into a succubus in front of his very eyes. Her body is thrown back hanging in the air with only their sex keeping them together. Her hand grabs at his tie for support while she squirms onto his girth in an urgent rhythm.

He grunts, nearly choking as the noose tightens around his neck. It does nothing but make him harden even more inside her already too tight heat. Letting one hand glide at the small of her back, he holds her from falling and puts his right hand to his mouth, coating his fingers with his saliva before pressing them against her clit. 

“Who does this pussy belong to, angel?” He asks, another guttural grunt escaping his lips as his kitten tightens around him while he manipulates her clit into submission.

“Yours, August!” She wails, feeling the warmth increasing, fury burning between her thighs. 

“No,” he rasps, pressing harder against her clit. His cock swells inside her, his sack squeezing beneath her ass. 

“Da...daddy!” she cries out, pulling back with all her might as the fire consumes her, making her melt with ecstasy with him hitting her cervix. He lets himself go right after her, coating her walls with his liquid and continuing to push into her until it drips between them, warm and smooth. 

“I’m sorry, daddy…” she bites her knuckle, letting go of his tie and looking at the mess she made.  

He gives her a smile, with his hand still on her back he pulls closer against him, laying soft butterfly kisses all over her face and then nuzzling her temple.  

“Don’t worry, angel. Daddy’s not mad, not this time.” 

___________________________________________________________

[stickyhoney]

Running Water

Summary: You and Sherlock met months ago at the very same park you sat at now. When Sherlock comes to see you once again, do you let the teasing take a turn?

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes (Henry Cavill) x Reader

Warnings: Explicit Language, 18+, smut, public sex, mature themes

“Hello Sherlock.” You sneered. You loved this little game the two of you had going. It was thrilling. You knew you had him on the ropes, probably the only one on this planet that does. 

“Hello [y/n]. Looking beautiful as ever.” He pulled his lips into a smirk. Giving your body a slow look over, stopping in all the usual places. 

This was the spot you had met some months ago, in a small isolated park. You had been reading next to a small creek, while he had been smoking his pipe under an old oak tree. Every Sunday morning, the two of you followed the same routine. The two of you would sit ten yards away from each other, but never speak. It took a month for him to come speak to you, blabbering on about how bad your taste in books were. 

“Would you like to sit beside me, Holmes? The water feels fabulous.” Your feet were bare, drawing figure eights in the running water. Spring had finally come, melting away the ice, leaving the water brisk. 

“Do I look like the sort of fellow to put my feet in a creek? Homeless men probably bathe in that water up stream.” The bright sun outlined his silhouette as you peered up at him, creating a foreboding figure. 

“Are you always so serious?” Teasing had become somewhat of a sport for you since you had met Sherlock. A sport that was more fun if you had a partner.  You ran your left hand through the blades of grass to your side, marking his seat. The other combing through your loose hair.

“Yes. Yes I am.” His fingers began unlooping the laces on his shoes, pulling them off in one go. His socks shortly after. Sitting down beside you, his hands fold out behind him in support. His large feet sank into the cool water, slowly moving in tiny circles. 

“Sherlock, I have a question for you.” You rested your chin on your shoulder, gazing at him. “My intuition tells me you will ask me whether I want to hear it or not.” He stares straight ahead into the tall oak trees, seeming unaware of where you were about to take this. 

You scoot over quietly, and rest your head on his broad shoulder. The contact making him finally look down on you. His breath hitches, unable to regain composure. You move your hand behind you, slowly moving and caressing his in the grass. His veins are prominent, his fingers somewhat calloused.

“Do you ever think of me?” He desperately tries to keep his cool facade intact. “It is difficult to have a conversation with someone if I don’t think of them.” That is not the answer you wanted to hear. Slowly you wade your feet over to his in the water, creating more friction between you. “Do you ever think of me outside this park?” Between every question grazing up his calf further. “Maybe when you are at home?” His breathing had now come erratic, unlike his usual demeanor.  “Maybe when you are lying in bed? All alone with no one there to please you.” 

Sherlock always welcomed your teasing, but now it had gone too far. You had gone too far. There was no turning back for the two of you now. “You would like that wouldn’t you? Imagining your lips around me while I chase my own pleasure?” Sherlock had never truly figured you out, only what you had let him see. If he knew one thing though, your teasing hid your true desire. To be dominated, controlled, manhandled. Your eyes were practically begging for him to take you right there.

“Oh I have no idea what you are talking about.” The two of you holding eye contact, while you batted your eyelashes like a naive little schoolgirl. The truth was that hearing Sherlock say that made your body react, in many many ways. Your clit was now sensitive enough to feel the friction of your underwear, your folds had slickened, your body was welcoming him in like a long lost friend. Your thighs pressed together to feed into your hunger for more friction, and Sherlock after all notices everything.

He bends down to your ear, his breath hot. “That isn’t what your body is telling me [y/n].” His body moves back from the creek, his arms pulling you onto his lap. His grip on your arms is so firm, you knew you would have to explain away bruises the next day. Your yelp only excites him more, giggling at the growl he makes when he goes in for your lips.

Your lips pressed firmly against his. His curls were being combed by your fingers, slightly tugged and his scalp kneaded. Sherlock’s massive hands now covered your back, pulling you closer onto him. This action perfectly places your already sensitive center on his hardened cock, causing the both of you to swallow the others moans. 

He was becoming hungrier with his kisses and hands, desperately wanting more. Mindfully spreading your skirt, you begin grinding against his erection confined by his trousers. 

“I am going to take you right here in this park. I don’t care if we are seen.” His voice gravelly and deep, the vibrations went straight to your core. All you could do to respond was nod. 

“Unbuckle my trousers.” Your hands complied, his stern tone stoking your fire. His fly comes open and you palm his erection through his underwear, causing his head to fly back until he fights to regain his composure. “Are you gonna be a good girl, and take me in your mouth?” Again, you nodded. Your hands guided his underwear down, and grasped his length. 

Twisting, squeezing, and pulling, your hands prepared him for your mouth. His size matched his frame, very large. Beginning at the base, your tongue slowly drew a line up to his time. Sherlock shuddered at the feather light touch of your tongue, his hands landing in your hair. Licking up his precum, you wrap your lips around him. Your mouth sinks down onto him as far as you can go without it hitting the back of your throat, and use your hands for the rest. You gaze up at Sherlock through your lashes, your eyes capturing the most erotic thing you could imagine. His face was so relaxed. His mouth was agape, his eyes peering down at you, they were dark with desire.

“Fuck, you are doing so good. Such a good girl, even with such a sassy mouth.” The hands behind your head lift you off of him and up to his lips. His fingers yank your underwear down sharply by the hips, so sharply you hear them tear. You lift off the ground, pressing up on your knees allowing Sherlock to press into you. His thick cock stretching your walls, your body adjusting to his girth. You both suck in a long breath as you sink lower and lower onto him. 

“So tight for me. I am going to make you scream. Let them hear how good I make you feel.” He dips his face into the crook of your shoulder when you start moving up and down his cock, his breath tickling your collarbone. Your skin felt like you had stayed out in the sun for too long, all your lungs could manage was shallow breaths. 

“You make me feel so good baby. Just give it all to me, I can handle it.” You had started grinding down on him, letting him bottom out inside you. He was hitting a place, you had previously thought was unreachable. “Are you sure?” “Yes baby.”

Flipping you onto your back, he never exited you. The grass tickled the back of your neck and thighs. With rough motions, he pulled your skirt up to your shirt allowing him a view of your carnal actions. “So pretty for me.” He placed your legs being on top of his shoulders, and thrusted hard. So hard his balls slapped against you, creating a lewd smack. Your eyes screwed shut, and your mouth hung open. You were no longer a person, just a vessel of pleasure for him to fill. He exited slowly, and thrusted again. He did this over and over, gradually becoming faster and even harder.

His hands traveled to your swollen clit, rubbing in harsh circles. Your lungs felt as though they had been filled, making it impossible for you to even let out a squeak. Your legs were tensing. You knew your end was coming, and so was his. 

“I-I-”

“Come for me [y/n]. Come on, be a good girl.”

Your entire body tensed, unable to do anything on your own. Waves of heat ripped through your body from your center, even reaching your toes. You felt your walls gripping onto him, like your body never wanted him to leave. Sherlock’s eyes stayed locked on your face as you had come undone beneath him. He let himself go, shooting warm spurts into you. His jaw hung open, the only thing being released was his silent gasps.

Sherlock fell beside you down in the grass. You both lay there shocked at how amazing that felt. He pulled you in close to him, his chest still trying to calm his breathing. Your head laid on his chest, your hands feeling his hard stomach. 

“So… you do think of me outside of this park?” Your teasing would never cease, no matter what happened between the both of you. Sherlock released a deep guttural laugh that made your heart smile.

[burgers-and-french-fries]

Taron Egerton: Consequential Domination.

Note: Before you read this, please note that even though it may sound a little on the creepy side, that was not my intention at all. I tried to make it sound sexy and smutty but I kind of failed at that. Anyway, I still hope that you enjoy this imagine but it’s ok if you don’t. I assure you that I won’t be offended.

See you soon for the next imagine.

For the last 6 weeks or so, Taron had been working his body tirelessly in order to meet his director’s standards for his upcoming role in the action movie, Diablos in Venice. It was grueling and something that Taron wasn’t enjoying in the slightest if he was honest. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful for the opportunity to work with Max Valencia on this project, but it was the constant gym time and all the chicken and broccoli he had to consume that was doing his head in. First world problems, am I right?

Max Valencia was a world renown director and was mostly known for casting pretty boys in his movies. Whether it was because he wanted eye candy to look at while filming or simply because he knew the female audience would flock to the cinema to see his projects because of the said pretty boys, no one really knew for sure.

I’m getting ahead of myself here though, so let’s back track a little bit and look at this from Taron’s point of view.

Today’s shoot had been a very tough one and Taron’s body was aching in places that he didn’t think were possible. On top of that, the weather had been sweltering which did not help with the fighting scenes that he had to do. He flipped over this, jumped over that, ducked under this and all of it caused his body to overheat at one point, making him have to take a break, shower, have water and have his makeup etc. reapplied. It was a headache and Taron was ready for bed by the end of the day. Of course once Taron got to bed, his brain decided that it wasn’t sleepy yet.

Taron groaned to himself and threw the covers off his body before getting up, throwing on a pair of boxers and gathering some well-earned beer and junk food. He knew it wasn’t the smartest idea as he’d pay for the bad food choices in the morning but right now, he didn’t care. He needed to relax and needed to enjoy some good shit tv.

=

Just as one of the wives on ‘The wives of Beverly Hills’, threw the biggest bitch fit of the episode, a knock could be heard coming from the trailer door. Taron slowly turned his head toward the door and debated about pretending that he wasn’t there. It almost worked until one of the empty beer bottles hit the ground and shattered. Taron cringed and sighed in annoyance.

“Just a minute.” He called as he moved to get up and find a shirt.

That was ignored when the door opened and revealed Max standing there.

“Uh, hi. I wasn’t expecting company.” Taron said as he tried to cover himself.

Max swallowed. He knew Taron was good looking, but he had no idea that he was this good looking. His body had a sheen of sweat covering it, his now bleached locks were tousled and messy, his five o’clock shadow caressed his jaw better than Max had ever seen and don’t get him started on the small white boxers tightly hugging Taron in all the right places. Talk about a bloody Adonis. Max was in love.

“Uh, Max?” Taron questioned as he watched his director’s eyes glaze over with what he could only describe as intrigue.

Max shook his head and cleared his throat.

“Yes.” He replied.

“I asked if you needed anything.” Taron told him. Max shook his head.

“No. I was walking by and saw that your lights were on. I wanted to see how you were after everything today.” Max explained. Taron looked unconvinced that that was the reason for Max’s visit.

“Right. Well, I’m fine.” Taron said.

Both men stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say. That’s when another knock could be heard, making the men jump.

“Who is it?” Taron called.

“It’s Henry, I got the crisps.” Henry replied. Taron looked at Max and bit his lip sheepishly.

“Crisps?” Max questioned as he let Henry in, hoping he hadn’t heard the admittance of cheating on their diets.

Henry hid the bag of chips behind his back and tried to play it off.

“Crisps? Pffft, no, what? Crisp- did I say crisps? I meant-” Henry said, blowing the cover.

“Henry, just stop.” Taron told him, knowing full well they had been caught.

“So, chips and beer. I must say, I’m rather disappointed in you two.” Max tsked.

“Yes, ok but in our defense, we’ve been working really hard, and we figured that a treat would be alright.” Henry said, making Taron nod in agreement.

“Yeah, what he said.” Taron added, pointing to Henry.

“Hmm, I see. Well as far as I’m concerned, that’s not good enough.” Max said, his eyes growing dark.

Taron and Henry looked at each other and shifted in their spots. Neither of them could tell if they felt uncomfortable and scared or if they were simply enjoying the implied tone of their director.

“Look, what do you w-want us to say?” Taron said as Max stalked toward him, making him move closer to his 6’1 co-star.

Max raised his brows in amusement. Seeing these men in front of him squirm was quite the treat.

“I don’t want either of you to say anything.” Max replied softly as he ran his index finger across Taron’s stubbled jaw gently. Taron’s eyes slowly closing at the sensation.

“No, no. Look at me.” Max whispered as he let his finger trace down to Taron’s chest, down his toned torso and to the line of dark hair below his navel.

Henry watched Max’s actions and felt himself drool. The way Taron looked so submissive and small gave him butterflies deeper than he had felt in a long time.

Taron could feel Max tug at his boxers and let out a small moan. He couldn’t believe what was about to happen.

“Look at me.” Max repeated again as he began removing Taron’s boxers.

When Taron finally did open his eyes, Max could see that the colour in Taron’s eyes had changed to the darkest colour. It was alluring and intoxicating to say the least.

“That’s a good boy.” Max whispered, getting to his knees to fully admire the toned body of one of his diet cheaters.

Max slowly kissed his way up Taron’s body before standing and turning Taron around so that he could bend him over the kitchenette counter.

“Now, that’s a gorgeous view. Wouldn’t you say, Henry?” Max asked as he caressed the curve of Taron’s ass.

“Hmmm.” Henry hummed out. Seeing Taron like this was hot and he couldn’t wait to see what Max had planned.

“I assume Taron was behind you bringing the chips?” Max asked Henry. Something in his tone told the Brits not to lie.

“Yes.” Both Henry and Taron replied in unison. Both of them waiting for Max to make his next move.

“Hmmm. You know what happens to naughty boys?” Max questioned intimidatingly.

“No.” Taron replied.

“Shall I show you?” Max questioned again.

“Y-yes.” Taron squeaked out.

“Yes what?” Max said.

“Yes, s-sir.” Taron spoke. Max nodded and looked to Henry.

“I think a spanking sounds like a good punishment, don’t you?” Max asked. Taron would be shocked if he wasn’t so turned on at the thought of being dominated.

“I want to hear you count each time my hand makes contact with your ass.” Max instructed before fulfilling the punishment.

Of course, the punishment eventually turned into Max, Henry and Taron enjoying some well needed ‘bonding’ time.

 ===

[xdirtyxlittlexgirl]

Just Find Me (Part II)

Pairing: Henry Cavill X Reader

Summary: You have a chance encounter with Henry Cavill during your travels in Italy

Warning: Fluff

You feel him gently lean you against his shoulder, you can't help but smile, feeling a sense of peace and contentment. You then feel his hand on yours, and he whispers in your ear, "Open your eyes." As you do, you can't believe what you see. You are sitting in the middle of a huge open space, on a cosy bed like setting, surrounded by the night sky full of stars. You gasp in amazement, feeling tears form in your eyes. "Henry....wow..." that's all you could say. Did he just pull that off? Is it all real? You were shook and it took a few moments for you to let the reality sink in. You turn to him, and you hug him tightly, feeling overwhelmed with emotion. No one has ever done anything like this for you before, and you are taken aback by his thoughtfulness. Finally there was someone who paid attention to what you felt, what you wanted, what you liked.

As you pull away, you look into his eyes and see a glimmer of desire, as you feel him lean closer to you. You know that he wants to kiss you, but you also know that he is dating someone else. You can't let this go any further, even though every fibre of your being is screaming for you to stay in his arms. You get off his lap and sit beside him, feeling his warmth beside you. You both look up at the night sky, enjoying the silence between you. You can feel his gaze on you, and you know that he is thinking about you.

"Thank you so much, Henry," you say softly with another sigh leaving you. "This is the most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me. Truly. This means so much to me." you say as you lean your head on his shoulder. He smiles at you, and you feel your heart skip a beat. "You deserve it," he says softly. "You're amazing, (y/n). You are so special. I haven't ever met someone and felt this way before. You make me feel alive." You feel a pang of desire in your chest, but you push it away, knowing that it's not fair to either of you. Each word that came out of his mouth just made your heart feel more heavy with desire. The desire to feel him, the desire to kiss him, the desire to lose yourself in his arms, the desire to talk to him for hours, the desire to not let go of him, but you knew this wasn't a possibility. At least not yet.

The stars were out in full force, sparkling like diamonds in the clear night sky. You stay there next to Henry, snuggled up in a cozy blanket, gazing up at the endless expanse of the universe. This moment took you back to your childhood days with your grandpa, and it was all thanks to him. "How did you pull this off?" you ask softly looking at him, as he was already looking at you. He couldn't take enough of your beauty which was now amplified by the gentle glow of the moonlight. "I know someone here, who pulled it off for me. Perks of being an actor." he added and chuckled. He found himself looking at you, more than gazing the stars.

"You know, I don't think I've ever met someone quite like you before," He repeated again softly, breaking the peaceful silence between you two. It was as if he wanted to say so much but could only say enough. You turned your head to look at him, feeling your heart skip a beat at the intensity of his gaze. "What do you mean?" "I mean, you're different. You're not like the other girls I've met before. You're genuine, kind, and passionate about the things you love. I don't know, it's like you light up the room whenever you walk in." You blushed at his words, feeling a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness in the pit of your stomach. You had only known him for a day, but it felt like you had known him forever.

"I feel the same way about you," you admitted, looking down at your hands. Henry chuckled. "You do? I feel like I'm usually dulling the room by being a snob about everything." he jokes making you laugh. "Yes, even though you're a snob and nerd about everything. It's endearing to accept and want what you like. Nothing wrong with that." you add as he chuckles a little looking deep into your eyes. "Plus, It's like we have this connection that's hard to explain. It's like fate brought us here, you know?" you add looking back at the sky, wondering if this was the universe's intention, to bring you two together. He smiled at you, taking your hand in his. "I know exactly what you mean. It's like we were meant to meet, even if it's just for this one magical night." You felt a wave of sadness drown you at his words, knowing that you would have to say goodbye soon. "I don't want this night to end," you whispered. "Neither do I, trust me..." Henry replied looking at the sky, squeezing your hand.

"But I promise you, (y/n), I will never forget this moment. And I will never forget you." You looked up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. You didn't know what to say, but you knew that you felt the same way. You didn't want to leave this magical moment behind, but you knew you had to. "Thank you for this, Henry. This has been the most incredible night of my life." He leaned in closer to you, his breath warm on your cheek. "It's not over yet, darling," he whispered. "We still have sometime." he adds and all you wanted to do was kiss his tender lips in that moment. It took every ounce of willpower in your body to not lean in and kiss him for hours. There was some connection, chemistry, and definitely a sexual tension, thick enough to be cut by a knife, and it was so weird but so amazing. You both laid there next to each other peacefully looking at the sky and contemplating your lives and connection in that moment.

After a while, you look at the time and then look at him. "I think, we should..." you didn't wanted to say it out loud. "Yeah...yeah we should." he just added silently, getting up, and giving you a hand. As you both got up from the cozy bed under the stars, you felt a sense of loss. You wished this moment could last forever, but you both knew that wasn't possible. You had to part ways. You took a deep breath and turned to him, "I really enjoyed spending time with you tonight. It was magical." He looked at you with a serious expression and asked, "Do you know French?"

You were a bit taken aback by the sudden question and replied, "No, I don't."He nodded and took a deep breath before beginning to speak in French, "Tu es belle et intelligente. J'ai passé la meilleure nuit de ma vie avec toi. J'aimerais que nous n'ayons pas à nous séparer. J'aimerais ne pas sortir avec elle. J'aimerais pouvoir t'embrasser maintenant. J'aimerais savoir ce que je ressens. J'aimerais pouvoir vous expliquer cela. Je souhaite que cette nuit ne finisse jamais. Mais il est. Vous êtes une femme très spéciale. Personne ne m'a jamais fait ressentir ça. Je souhaiterais être avec toi." (You are very beautiful and smart. I had the best night of my life with you. I wish we didn't have to separate. I wish I didn't go out with her. I wish I could kiss you right now. I wish I knew what I feel. I wish I could explain that to you. I wish this night never ends. But it is. You are a very special woman. No one has ever made me feel like that. I wish I could be with you.) There he was saying what he felt out loud knowing you won't know what he said. It was important for him to convey everything to you, even if this was the end, which honestly felt like a beginning. He couldn't do it to his girlfriend, and he didn't feel right letting you go too, but he knew he has to. So he said what he felt, because if this was the end, he would have less regrets in the future.

You looked at him, surprised and confused, not understanding what he said. He then just kissed your head and bid farewell to you. "Goodbye Hen" you said gently letting go of his hand. You felt like busting info tears, but you also felt extremely fulfilled and happy. This was weird. Seeing him walk away felt like torture. It felt wrong. You just turned to leave, but he called out to you, "Wait, I forgot to take any contact of yours." You turned to him and just smiled with a sigh, "If we're meant to meet again, you will just find me... Divine timing remember?" And with that, you walked away, leaving Henry amazed. You were shocked by the sudden exit you made yourself, but you kept walking. If you turned around, even for a look, you knew you would go weak and run into his arms.

As you walked away, you couldn't stop thinking about the night you just had. You felt a strong connection with Henry, but you knew it couldn't go further than that. You both had your own lives to go back to, and it was for the best. But as you lay in bed that night, you couldn't stop thinking about Henry and the way he made you feel. You felt a sense of longing and wondered if you would ever see him again, and what your futures could look like, had this night gone a different way.

~

A year had passed since that magical night in Italy with Henry. A year since you sat under the stars and felt a sense of loss as you parted ways, not knowing when or if you'd see each other again. It had been a few months since you had published your book and have now become a bestselling author, thanks to the story of Rebecca and Laurent in your book, which was the story of you and Henry... Your life had changed so much in a year, but your heart still held onto the memories of that one perfect day.

You were now in LA for a book signing, and as you sat at the table signing books, you couldn't help but think of Henry. You hadn't heard from him in a year, and every time you thought of him, your heart would flutter with a mix of excitement and sadness. You had even tried to reach out to him once, but he was a celebrity, and your message got lost in a sea of fans. Plus you had seen him accompany his girlfriend to events, so it was pretty obvious that he wanted nothing to do with you now. A part of you was happy for him. Happy that he's figured out his life, but a part was crashing down, thinking of you ever met anything to him, and if the two of you were possible.

As you were signing books, you looked up and saw a tall, broad-shouldered man walking towards you. For a moment, you thought it was Henry, but you quickly shook the thought away, thinking you were just being silly. He was wearing a face mask, so you couldn't see his face, but when you asked for his name, he looked deep into your eyes and said, "Laurent."

Your heart skipped a beat as you dropped your pen and looked at him in amazement. It couldn't be him. This could not be Henry. You tried to breathe but it was as if you had forgotten how to. A part of you wanted that masked man to be him. You wanted to see him again, you wanted to feel that way again, but a part of you wanted to bury whatever happened in the past and let him be happy, and keep it as an incomplete tale.

The man looked at you and slowly removed his mask, as you fell your soul escape your body. It was Henry... He was truly here. For a moment you were blank, trying to regain your composure and register your realty. "I'm here to take my Rebecca." he said with his husky voice and an evident smile on his face. Most people there didn't know that it was indeed Henry Cavill in the room, but they cheered because they all loved Laurent and Rebecca. This wasn't true. He isn't truly here. This isn't really happening. Is it? You ended up contemplating everything for a good few minutes before you abruptly called your manager and requested him to cancel the signing for the day. He saw Henry, and immediately knew what was up. He was one of the closest people you had and he knew everything, so he, like a fairy godmother, handled the situation, and took Henry to the hotel suite, giving you time to regain your composure and register reality.

You couldn't believe he was here, in front of you, after all this time. As you stepped into your hotel suite's living room, your heart racing and your mind completely blank, you saw him. Henry was sitting there, looking as stunning as ever. You couldn't believe your eyes. Was it really him? Or was it just your mind playing tricks on you again? Because you had imagined this moment in your head multiple times during your sleepless nights, and today you were living it. But there he was, in the flesh and bone, with a smile on his face that could light up a room.

You were so overwhelmed by the sight of him that you couldn't form any words. You just stood there staring at him, taking in every detail of his face. It was like time had stood still for him, but for you, it had been a year. A year filled with questions, doubts, and what-ifs. You wanted to ask him so much, but you couldn't even find your voice. Henry, on the other hand, was calm and composed. He stood up from his chair and walked towards you. As he came closer, you could smell his cologne, and it took all your willpower not to wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest.

"Hi," he said, his voice low and smooth. "It's good to see you again." You couldn't believe how calm he was. You were in a state of shock, yet he seemed to be taking everything in stride. You finally found your voice and managed to say, "What are you doing here Henry?" You didn't wanted to sound rude but you were confused, angry, frustrated, and most of all, in shock.

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow and chuckled smiling, "Ouch. I thought you liked me." he said jokingly and all you could do was travel back in time to your night with him. It was as if all the emotions and memories hit refresh. "I came here for you." he adds still smiling knowing well enough that you're in no position to talk with his sudden stunt. You couldn't help but feel your heart skip a beat at the sound of his words. He continued, "I've missed you, (y/n). A lot has happened in the past year, and I've realized that I can't stop thinking about you. I had to see you again..." This time you could feel the pain in his voice. The longing and hurt clearly reflected in his now trembling voice and thinking eyes. You were speechless. You didn't know how to respond to his confession. All you knew was that you missed him more than anything, and you didn't want to waste any more time apart.

You took a step closer to him and said, "I've missed you too, Henry. More than I can say." He reached out and took your hand, pulling you closer to him. "But..." His grip on your waist and hand loosened, and you could see the colour fade from his face. What if she find someone else. What if she doesn't want me anymore. What if she doesn't feel the same way. All these thoughts immediately plagued his mind. As you looked into Henry's eyes, you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions. You had so many questions, doubts, and fears that you wanted to confront him about. You needed to know the truth, and you didn't want to hold anything back. "Henry, I need to know," you said, taking a deep breath. "Why didn't you respond to my message? Did you even get it?"

Henry released a sign of relief as you saw his face soften up while he reached for your hand again kissing it. "Fuck. You texted me? Love, I'm so sorry. I never got your message. My managers usually filter through my texts, and they probably didn't see it. Although, I did give them your name, but they must have missed it because I didn't receive it. In fact, I had asked them to search for you, but all I knew was your name and that you were a writer...." You nod and let out a small sigh of relief, but there was still a lingering doubt in your mind. "And... What about the girl you were with in all those pictures? Your girlfriend? Were you still with her?" Henry's expression turned pained as he let go of your hand, and ran a hand through his hair. "No. I tried to make things work with her, but I wasn't the same after meeting you. I fell in love with you, and being with her just wasn't enough. We broke up a long time ago, and my managers just wanted me to have a 'partner' to keep the rumors going. She was an Influencer, so she was happy to get her publicity. We never did anything after Italy, and only met at those events. I never knew the same happiness as her, as I did with you..."

You felt a twinge of guilt in your chest, knowing that Henry had been going through so much, all while you were busy with your book. But, you couldn't help but feel overjoyed at the thought that he was in love with you, and this is the first time he's said that. You just looked into his eyes as he leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours, cupping your cheeks. "I will always owe you for one thing, and that is, you sent me away that day in Italy. You sent me back to my life so I could truly realise how much I needed you..." You bit your lip trying to control your tears as you looked at him.

"(y/n)" Henry said, pilling you closer to him. "I love you so so much, and I so not want to spend one day away from you." he said as your lips brushed against his. "Please say something..." he whispered and looked at you with the most hopeful gaze. You loved him there was no doubt in that, and you couldn't wait to spend the rest of your life with this man. You looked up at him, tears streaming down your face. "J't'aime beaucoup..." you said I love you more in French, something Rebecca tells Laurent in the books, which was a take on your and Henry's last moment together. Henry's face broke into a huge grin as he captured your lips in a passionate kiss. You could feel your heart racing as you melted into him, your hands tangling in his hair as he pulled you closer.

The kiss was full of so much love and emotion, and you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful new chapter in your life. He looked in your eyes, enjoying the silence and the swell on your lips before you crashed your lips together again. You barely knew this man but you felt like you knew him from ages, and that's exactly what he felt. As Henry's lips pressed against yours, you couldn't help but get lost in the moment. His kiss was electrifying, and it was as if you were transported back to that small Italian town where you first met. Henry finally pulled away for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as if he was trying to memorize every features. "You're even more beautiful now," he whispered, and you felt a blush rising to your cheeks. Your hair had grown since he last saw you, and you had tanned a little, and all he could do was to worship your beauty. He gently picks you up in his arms and takes you to the bed where you start to kiss him again, your hands caressing each other's bodies, trying to feel every nook and detail. After a while of making out, Henry kissed your nose and said, " Be right back" and suddenly got up from the bed disappearing into the living room again. You heard the clinking of glass and the sound of a cork popping, and he reappeared with a bottle of the same Italian wine you had shared on that day. You chuckled "Baby did you seriously got this?" You sit up a little for a better view, as he poured you both a glass, and you took a sip, savoring the rich flavor. "How can I forget the only thing because of which I met you?" he says and you chuckled and sat down next to you. Henry pulled you onto his lap, his lips trailing down your neck and chest, and then back up to your lips. You loved the way he kissed you, with a passion that left you breathless. You never knew you could feel this way, so consumed by love and desire.

"I've missed you so much," he whispers against your shoulders. "I missed you," you reply, your heart racing with emotion. "I can't believe this is happening."

"It's real, babygirl. You and me, we're meant to be together," he says, his eyes locked onto yours, as he then started to kiss your neck and then your shoulder. "Mm put bottoms up the drink or put the glass aside" he said a little annoyed because you were taking too long to drink your wine, and he had to get to business. You chuckled and looked at him. "You're already very demanding. Aren't you?" You said cockily but chugged the last of the wine putting the glass aside as he looks up at you with a raised eyebrow, and nods. "Yeah. I am." He said and then flips you both around so you're under him, and he starts to kiss your lips and then your neck and shoulders. "I waited so long for this..." he whispers against your skin and you nod biting your lip, "Mm yes...too long, but you found me..." With that he started kissing you again, his hands roaming over your body, igniting a fire that you never knew existed within you. It's like the two of you are the only people in the world, lost in your own little bubble of love and desire.

The night wears on, you and Henry continue to explore each other's bodies, your passion growing with each passing moment. And as you fall asleep in his arms, you know that you've found something special, something that will last a lifetime. It was just like you said in your book; "They met, they talked, It was epic. The true epic love."

__

A/N: Please leave a feedback! Do you want this to be a fic?

[nitannichionne]

If He Was YOUR Fan Chapter 14: Day After

“Henry!”

You are laying on your side, one leg under him, the other over his leg and wrapped around his waist. He thrusts hard and deeper at this angle, leaning forward and caressing you body as he holds you in place. You are moving your hips in time with him, constantly moaning and arching as he milks climaxes out of you. You are tired, but your body responds to his in a way you can’t contemplate. His touch has stirred you awake, to life, for the third time just as the sun rose.

“Come here!” He growls, raising your leg, kissing it and turning you onto your stomach. With brute strength, he raises you by your hips and you reflexively come up on your hands and knees. You cry out as he primitively takes you from behind, starting a rhythm that almost takes your breath away. Your head falls forward, waves of pleasure going back and forth through your body as he moves in and out of you, his grip both steady and possessive. Sweat and sex dampened sheets that had dried were becoming wet again as you moved together, moaning and crying out each other’s names.

As he empties into you he leans forward, rocking your bodies back and forth and then holds you tight. Exhausted, you fall forward onto your stomach and he falls with and on top of you, still embedded. You pant, catching your breath, and he runs his hands up and down your sides and kisses your shoulder. He slowly withdraws and you feel the loss, but then he turns you to him and draws you into his arms. Sleep comes naturally, both of you sated.

You awaken.

You look around, trying to answer the questions:

Who am I? That’s redundant.

When is it? Saturday morning….you think.

Where are you? Henry’s home.

Why are you here? To ride out the storm, but you did more than that.

What to do now?

Henry appears in the doorway with a tray. “Good afternoon.”

“What?!”

“It’s noon, darling,” he smiles. “half past, actually.” He sets down the tray, and sits in his recliner. “Come on, breakfast.”

You become self conscious and shy all of a sudden. The night revealed a great deal to you both. You’re both passionate and primitive, you know that now, but what does it mean…now?

“Cold?” he asks, his eyes dropping to your hand holding a sheet against your chest.

“A little,” you admit, not wanting to say all the thoughts running through your head.

He breaks into a grin and pulls out one of his British hoodies. He pulls it over your head and drags you out of bed, bedsheets dragging in your wake. He picks you up and straddles you on his lap. “Come on, darling…” He offers a buttered croissant. You try to take it, but he pulls back. “Come on.” He teases.

You take a bite from the croissant in his hand and chew. He is watching you, enjoying you enjoying it. “You didn’t go outside, did you?”

“What? What for?”

“This is warm and seems fresh.”

“Got them from the bakery yesterday morning, warmed them up today.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” He takes a bite, and winks. “Wow.” He hands you a cup of coffee and you sip it. This is how you like it!

“Everything okay?” he frowns.

“French roast coffee with—”

“Hazelnut, yes I know.”

You blink, shaking your head in disbelief. He got that from one of your sites! You feel your body flush with awareness. “Is the storm over?”

He looks up and around, and you realize that you can hear the downpour too. “I think the worst is over.” He laughs. “Kal and I raced out so he could do something between fronts.”

“Great timing.”

“No, Kal waited for the storm to be over and politely let me know without barking.” He offers you another bite, which you take. “Even he did not want to wake you.”

“Thanks, Kal,” you say softly as he finishes the first croissant. “Are we going out today?”

“If we do—and that is a big if—we shouldn’t go far,” he shakes his head. “This isn’t over, not yet. I can see the next front coming, and it looks not as bad, but bad enough.”

Suddenly, you both hear a computer chime.

“Yes!”

“What?”

“Warcraft is up,” he smiles. “Got some stuff to do.”

“Okay—”

“Let me check,” he stands up and throws you over his shoulder, making you laugh and giggle. You swat his rear. “Two can play that game, darling—” he smacks your bare ass. “and I have an advantage!”

“Brute!”

“Prim and proper I might be, pet, but I am the distant descendant of barbarians.” He gently strokes the site he spanked, and then runs his hand over your legs. “Might want to take note of that.”

“Duly noted,” you say softly.

“Careful, darling, I’m trying to take care of you before the next leg over.”

“What?”

He laughs and takes you to his gaming computer. He sets you down. “Well?”

“That’s nice, but those—” Understanding dawns on you. “Are you building another one?”

He shrugs. “I might. I thought it would be a nice challenge to build a second, increase power and make it this monster gaming computer…” He looks at you warmly. “but I might be a little distracted.”

“I know what you mean,” you tell him. “I go into my writing sites and get lost between that and my stories and my outlines.”

He smiles. “Yes, you did leave us hanging on a few of them.”

“Gee, ya think?” you laugh. “But I have them here with me. I might finish something this weekend.”

He smiles at you. “So, when I game, you write?”

“Sounds good to me,” you shrug. “I’m more than happy to run lines. I was a high school drama musical kid—nothing like you, but I can read.”

“Sounds even better,” he nods, a twinkle in his eye. “And maybe I can help you edit?”

“That would be great,” you say. “I edit my own stuff mostly, but I could use some fresh eyes.”

You look at each other. That respect for mutual but singular interests with the offer of support makes you both feel understood.

“After breakfast—brunch, then?” He asks. “If I slip off after we eat for a little while—”

“It’s alright, I can write and catch up,” you nod. “not to mention tell loved ones I’m alive.”

“After that?” He asks in a purr, drawing you close.

“We may have to figure that out.”

“I’ve got ideas.”

“Do you now?”

“Lots,” He kisses your nose. “But, breakfast first!” He sweeps you up again, and you wrap your arms around him as he takes you back to the bedroom for breakfast. “But tomorrow I’ll take you to this really nice spot I want you to see, promise.”

You smile at him. “Beautiful?”

“I think so.”

“Then it probably is.”

“I saw your site,” he said. “You have a thing for landscapes, I recall.”

“Yes, I do,” you admit, forgetting that this man followed you on social media, though secretly. You wonder how much he knows.

“Love water but scared of it?”

“Well, a little water is life giving, too much is the opposite, is all.”

“The same can be said for a lot of things, love.”

“Agreed.” You blink, realizing you said that on one of your sites. You are surprised that he has read up on you-busy as he was, you had his interest. He still surprises you. Your life is brimming with them these days.

Thanks to readers and follwers for reading and let me know if you wish to be tagged in this story. AND thank you tagmates:

@mistress-of-ward @nuggsmum @messyinsomniacbookgirl @jencanbeyouryengeralt​ @sweetdreamsofgelato​@maryann84 @omgkatinka​ @the-soot-sprite @viking-raider @keanureevesisbae​ @henryobsessed​ @summersong69​ @kinbhot4henners​ @sunshine96love​ @michelehansel​@radofrivia @thelastsock​ @michelehansel @tumblnewby @henryobsessed @defffcc @tenaciousneckpartypainter @rn7rocksn @mrskikkirazz @daydreamin83 @ruthoakenshield @musicartmayheminmyheart

I’d love to hear from you! Wisdom and wellness to you!

[henrycavillisdaddy]

Hey looking for another Henry fanfic writer to collab with on one of my stories. Let me know if anyone's interested💜

[itsmydreamlifethings]

Henry Cavill X Reader Fight and Make-Up 

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing, Mild Smut (Please do not post my work anywhere else. Reblogs on Tumblr are fine. This work is for ages 18+) Every couple fights, and since you and Henry have been dating for 8 months now, you’re bound to have your first one. You’re on your way home together and driving in his car. The tension is palpable and you can’t stand the silence between you, so you’re the first to speak.

“Henry, are you mad?” 

He gives you a quick side glance and a small frown forms on his face. “No.”

You chew your bottom lip, knowing he’s lying. “Hmm.”

“Hmm, what?” he asks.

“Nothing just seems like you’re not happy,” you reply, brows arched. You know him well. By now, he’d already have his hand on your thigh, the radio on, and chatting with you about your plans for the week.

“I mean, I’m not thrilled that you accepted a gig without consulting me first.”

You look at him incredulously. “You don’t ask my permission when accepting movie roles.” 

“Yeah, but I bring you along with me no matter where I go, don’t I?” His tone is growing more frustrated. Because you’re an author, you can write anywhere and that’s made it really easy for you to travel with him when he goes to different places for work. But this one opportunity to teach a writing workshop at New York University came up out of nowhere and with a hefty paycheck.  How could you decline it? 

“I did mention this to you, Henry,” you explain. “You even said it sounded awesome.”

“Yeah, but you went ahead and just accepted it. And I had no idea you’d be gone for an entire semester while I’ll be in Europe filming. I guess I feel blindsided, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking thoroughly. I was just so excited about the opportunity,” you say. You think that this is the end of it, but you observe his knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel tighter.

“What else is wrong?” you ask.

He chews his bottom lip. “I just want to make sure this is real.”

You feel punched in the stomach and now you are the one who is blindsided. “What is that supposed to mean, Henry?”

“I just hope I mean something to you...something more than a travel partner.” A mixture of hurt feelings and anger swarm inside you.

“Are you implying I am dating you only to travel the world? In case you haven’t noticed I work all the time, I pay my own bills, and I never asked...”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he adds quickly.

“Then what the hell did you mean?” Your face feels flushed.

“I just meant this isn’t just supposed to be for fun, Y/N. I am not that type of guy.”

“Oh, and I am that type of girl?”

“Fuck...no, I did not say that!”

“But you're implying it!” you snap, feeling attacked. “What kind of person do you think I am?”

“I know you don’t have ill intentions, but I just want to make sure you know I’m serious and I won’t tolerate playing games.”

Just as he says that you are in the driveaway. You are pissed and storm out of the car. He follows behind you. “Where are you going?” He notices you heading to your car instead of the front door.

“I guess you think this is a game for me. I travel all over the fucking world with you, never sleeping in the same bed for more than a month, or seeing my family and friends, or feeling like I can just call a place ‘home’, because this is a game for me. Right?! I take one measly job opportunity, one, after supporting you and encouraging you and your career, and this is what I get for it. An accusation that it’s all a game to me.” You don’t even realize that a tear rolled down your cheek.

Henry looks at you, uncertain of what to say. He walks over to you, but the little spitfire you are, you back away. 

“Darling, I’m sorry,” he says, his voice smoother. He brings you close to him, and his broad chest pressed against you. “I didn’t mean it like that...I was just...upset.”

“About me not being real?” you snap. “I don’t think it’s fair to assume that. I have done nothing to prove that.”

“I know, baby,” he whispers, his head against yours. “Please come inside.”

You sigh and relent, and follow him in the house.

“Babe, I just lost it because I don’t want to be behind you for so long.” He won’t let go of your hand, as if he does you’ll change your mind and leave. “I don’t want you to miss out on opportunities. I guess I’ve been selfish.”

The two of you settle on the sofa, and then discuss things through, and you start to realize that Henry has caught such hard feelings for you and has gotten so used to you being by his side that you being gone is really stressful for him. Your anger is appeased and you start to sweeten your tone. Of course, now that the tension has eased, you are kissing and cuddling.

His lips are eagerly parting yours and his tongue is tasting yours. One hand wraps in your hair while the other one is already under your shirt and cupping your breast.

“I’m going to miss all of this...all of you...” he whispers, his voice sexy as hell. “What am I gonna do without you?”

“It’s just for a little while, baby.”

His hand leaves your breast and runs under your skirt, caressing your thigh and wasting no time going up to the wetness already filling your undies. His fingers are small caresses, circling your clit slowly. You begin to moan, your senses aroused.

“Hmm, baby,” you mutter and as he pulls your panties down, he lays you back on the sofa and gets on top of you. His thighs spread your legs open and then his weight dropped into your core. He fumbles with his zipper and immediately places his tip against your entrance. 

“Promise you’ll Facetime every day,” he commands.

“Ye--” but you just gasp as he enters you with one thrust, his hardness filling you and tearing you.

He begins pumping slowly, his lips kissing your neck. You entwine your arms around his muscular back and as his thrusts get deeper, stronger, you can help but think...”Fuck, I’m gonna miss him so much too.”

[maximumninjavoid]

Mining for Unobtanium rewrites part deux

and a ZILLION thanks to @indigosaurus because she's amazing and puts up with me and actually reads my stuff and helps me make it better

Spirit is a smaller airfield a bit west of the city that caters to smaller private planes, flying lessons, corporate jets, that sort of thing. Ok. I officially have no idea what he is up to, but, as sure as one third of Geralt’s lines are “Fuck”; he’s up to something.

Upon arrival at Spirit, I am driven to a passenger lounge. It’s not busy at all, since flying charter out of St Louis must not happen a great deal or perhaps not at this time of day….Everyone is exceedingly pleasant and I imagine for the money he’s spending, they ought to be. I’ve never flown that way. Someone grabs my bags and we walk out the door on the runway side and into a hangar. I remind myself to fix my face, and try not to gawp. It’s a jet. A personal pan pizza of an aircraft. The stairs are down and there’s a person at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the plane. Waiting on me, apparently. Good thing I dress to travel.

Look, when I started traveling, as a child, one dressed to travel. It was a big deal getting on a plane and I simply cannot travel in jeans. The gentleman at the foot of the stairs takes my coat, and offers me a hand. I take it and walk up the stairs into a what’s it called? A business jet. There’s club chairs, a sofa, tables, a kitchen ( galley, right) and me. I put my carry on in the seat next to me and fasten my seatbelt. I am informed that Todd will be my cabin crew and Jess and Mark are the pilots. The pilots actually come say hello. Odd doesn’t even begin to cut it.

Todd asks if I want anything and I tell him I would love a beverage. Todd comes back with a No1 Mint water in a beautiful crystal glass and says” oh, right. I have something else for you”. He comes back with a bouquet of lavender roses. I don’t know how he knew. It isn’t anywhere, not on social media, we have never talked about it. But they are my absolute favorites. Not only for their unusual color, but they are the most fragrant of all the roses. Todd puts them in a vase and sets them in a recess I had not seen in the table.

I look over my shoulder, wondering where the other people are. Todd is also a mentalist, because he says” Ma’am, we will be wheels up in a matter of moments. We’ve been cleared to take off and in approximately four hours we’ll be at our destination.” Ohhhkaaay. I am the only person who isn’t crew on the plane. And true to their word in minutes, we’re down the runway and in the air. This business jet has some oomph and I’m pressed back into the wide leather seat as we climb to 45,000 feet. As we reach our selected elevation, Todd returns from a seat somewhere behind me I gather and begins to speak about the safety features. I’ve never had a personal flight safety brief and ask him to sit across from me. Reluctantly he does and after the exits have been pointed out and the safety features of a Gulfstream 650 have been described to me, I have questions. I ask Todd about the range, and how fast she goes and what the upgrades from a Gulfstream G200 were. We have a lovely aviation related conversation and then Todd asks if I want something to eat. “ I suppose, sure. What are my options? “

He explains that the galley has been stocked to certain specifications, and that there’s vitamin water, marcona almonds and charcuterie. I tell him that would be lovely but what think is I really want is a cigarette. He returns with this beautiful charcuterie board and a crystal ashtray. I look at him. He looks at me and smiles. He puts down the ash tray and produces a pack of Dunhills and a lighter. He smiles and says” Charter is a beautiful thing”.

I arrived in New Jersey, and was met on the tarmac by another gentleman in a suit who gathered up my things, and took me to another jet , and I’ve got my passport in my hand, carrying these lavender roses, and this gentleman behind me with my suitcase and my carry on. He steers me toward another set of stairs and again, someone is there to take my hand. I think I rolled my eyes behind my sunglasses so hard, I checked out my own ass. I thank the man, and I don’t have to go through security; this is all quite strange, you know? I remember when you could smoke on flights. Always in the back of the plane, cigarettes and pipes. No cigars. I’m pretty sure I flew on one of the last commercial flights you could smoke on, and I think I smoked almost a whole pack of cigarettes, because I could. This was an Embraer Legacy 650, and and I’m on a jet headed to London. I have always wanted to go to London, and now I am…..

Under quarantine. Fourteen days. No contact. Just to make certain I don’t have Covid-19.

I get settled in my seat, and Avery comes by to brief me on the safety equipment on the Legacy. She also informs me that the galley has been stocked, and that several of the seats can be made into lay flat beds and she would be more than happy to bring me linens and a duvet, and assures me that there is a shower in the aft cabin so that “should I require I can arrive refreshed”. Between Ashley and travel knit, at this moment I am not certain for whom I am more thankful.

I take my medication, send two or three texts, and send one picture. Captioned “ Almost in the same time zone. What day is it?” I figure that the best thing I can do is sleep. Otherwise, I’m going to begin to spend time in my own head, and that’s never a good idea. It’ll start innocently enough with ‘are you barking mad? You have just left the country, on no notice, with only one human vaguely aware of your whereabouts?’ and will quickly change timbre and tone to sound a great deal like the woman who called herself my mother; and then we get to the part of the internal interrogation that goes like this ’ of course you’re being irresponsible. What should I expect? Going off on some crazy thing, and how much are you wasting on this, that could have been put toward your future. You aren’t getting any younger…..’

Blessedly the insomnia medication began to take effect before the ghost of my first ex husband arrived and started in on my “perversions, and the endless parade of freaks and weirdos” I had chosen to surround myself with. Have I mentioned how much I love sleeping? It’s like being dead, without the commitment.

A gentle shoulder shake. “Ma'am? We’re About an hour out from London you had mentioned you might want to freshen up?” I complied, prayed to every deity I could think of that I hadn’t snored or drooled, and went to the back with my bag to shower. wiped my face with a tea tree wipe from my bag, and brushed my teeth, finger styled my hair, redid my lips and offered up a heartfelt prayer to the women who invented travel knit. HAD to be women.

You can crumple that stuff up, shake it out and look put together. It mixed and matched like garanimals for adults, and then you just accessorize.

It’s my home training. Remember, I’m (age) and when I grew up, you dressed to travel. It was a big deal. I can still remember wearing what can best be described as a little suit. Shift dress, matching jacket, patent leather Mary Janes, gloves and a hat. I STILL have issues leaving the house without a hat and gloves. In my world, some things are timeless. I am literally unable to travel in pajamas like I see some folks do. It took years for me to be able to wear jeans. If you have a friend who works for an airline, or did;

I’m not trying to pour salt in a pandemic wound, ask them what the requirements are to travel on one of their *buddy passes* the dress code, if you will.

I told you.

My roses had been put in water, and were handed back to me as I got ready to deplane. I hoped I wouldn’t have to surrender them at customs. I had my tote over my shoulder, carry on rolling behind, just the picture of cosmopolitan travel….. Oh stop laughing. See how cute YOU look getting from one half of the world to another on short notice. Handed to me from somewhere in the jet is my bag. Queued for customs. But when you fly Charter, there’s not really a line. Is the purpose of my trip business or pleasure? Probably not a good plan to joke with customs officials. That went poorly in Toronto. I actually got to see the room with no doorknob. From the inside. It’s not likely to work better here. I have my documents ready, negative Covid test, passport, declaration, purpose of my stay? Business and pleasure I decide is the most honest answer. The length of my stay? Oh. I’m not certain. No, nothing to declare, well, my flowers. They were a gift. They look a little bedraggled, as I am certain I do, but we are granted entrance by The Crown.

Apparently I walked right past the person who was sent to collect me and that ‘simply isn’t done’.

I suppose you aren’t supposed to be so fixated on a cigarette that you walk right by a human with an 11 x 14 sign, with your fucking name on it. Apparently, that causes consternation. Makes phones buzz and shit. I’m thinking there’s no reason for my phone to buzz; no one has any idea where I am, hell *I* don’t even know what day it is, and I JUST want to smoke.

No. The buzzing becomes more insistent and I pull my phone out of my pocket to find five texts and two missed calls. I start to read the texts when the phone rings. “Hello?” “ Ms. L/n ? Are you all right? This is the contract transport service and you gave us quite a start. Our client is most distressed that we may have misplaced you… ”. I couldn’t help it. I laughed. I apologized profusely, blamed it on my need for nicotine, and being an uncivilized colonist and had them laughing with me in no time. We confirmed my current location, I promised to assure their client I was fine and they said they would be right around to collect me. I sent a text to Henry, explaining how I had walked right past them, I was safe and sound, that it was very sweet of him to worry but shouldn’t he go disembowel a mythical creature. I smiled. He’s a love. They just don’t make them like that anymore.

We pull up at a beautiful building in what looks to be in the heart of London. If I didn’t know better, if think it might have been The Continental; I fully expected to see Winston, or Charon. The check in is seamless. Fortunate, because I’m not really paying attention. I’m trying not to gawp at the architecture and the decor. This hotel is lovely. Furnished perfectly, elegant but still comfortable, this is what you get when your country is MORE than two hundred years old. Bell staff takes me to my room, opens the door, and, it isn’t a room. It’s a suite. There’s a sitting room, and a bedroom, a luxurious bath, ASHTRAYS, and books. Not just any books. My favorite books. And a letter on the desk addressed to me.

I thank the bellman, try to tip him, which he refuses, and as he closed the door behind him I turn around in a circle trying to take it all in. This is too much. I know he’s at work, and I can’t pester him. But I do feel possessed of a need to protest, and I don’t want to unpack. I sit gingerly on the edge of the club chair and open the envelope.

^^

Y/n,

I only wish I could have been there to greet you. I hope you’re not displeased at the accommodation, and if I am not mistaken, you’re more than likely cross, and think I’m being excessive. There is a method to my madness however. You’re unfortunately going to have to be here for a fortnight. By yourself. And you’ve come such a long way, it was the least I could do. I want you to be comfortable, and be somewhat entertained.

Yes, I had to send someone to go and get the surpriseI have left for you. I would have gladly done it myself, but, I’m otherwise engaged at Kaer Morhen. I did all the hunting, not the procurement. I just wanted to show you in some way that I am invested in this, in you, that I’m paying attention, and I’m trying to learn how to court you.

I have tried to think of the things that you have to have, cigarettes, books, I assume you brought music. I had the pantry stocked with things I pray you’ll like, and other tidbits in the fridge. You may uncover other surprises while you’re here. Make yourself at home. Get comfortable. Rest. Read. Relax. Take advantage of anything this hotel has to offer. I will see you in my dreams, as I have every night. I ache for you. You haunt me, but in the most delicious way,

H

^^

And just like that, I am undone.

I take out my phone and send a text.

++

You are starting to grow on me. This is amazing, too much. Thank you.

Sweet dreams.

++

I don’t remember getting in bed, or even getting undressed, but I must have, for when I awoke, I was naked, in the most comfortable bed, sprawled out like a starfish. I tend to do that in hotel beds. I have no idea why.

I remember my dream. Like it had actually happened. I was on the balcony, in a dressing gown ( which I have never owned) and there’s a knock at the door. I open it, and it’s him. He damn near takes up the whole door frame, he’s so massive. Shoulders out to there…first three buttons on his blue oxford shirt undone, tormenting me with that chest hair, sleeves rolled up, biceps barely contained, tucked into jeans that leave very little to the imagination… Trim waist, thick powerful thighs, and OH. YES. he is packing. I can feel my core clench, my pussy getting wet, and he hasn’t even crossed the threshold.

That face. Those eyes. And he’s staring. At me. I’m not even sure I’m moving under my own power, my hands reach those pecs, slide up to either side of his face. He looks down at me and I am caught. Prisoner of that gaze. His arms go around me and he pulls me in angling his head slightly. His lips meet mine, gently at first, then more insistent, as he grabs me tighter, picking me up and out of the way of the door and closing it with his foot. My hands twined up into his hair and I ran my hands through those curls, feeling his hold tighten and God help me, I moaned. Our tongues met, the kiss became even more intense…I was going to burst into flames.

More. I needed more. In order to get more I would have to stop kissing him, or take my hands out of his hair and I wasn’t willing to do either one of those things. I needed to keep kissing him like I needed air. One of his hands reached up to cup my breast, heavy in his hand, he expertly tweaked and rolled my nipple, sending a red hot jolt of current straight to my clit and my knees buckled. One of those powerhouse arms came around me and steadied me, and with the other; well he stopped playing with my nipple and put his arm beneath my knees and scooped me up like I was one of those little girls. I tell you, I was shocked. I’m no single digit prime number dress size, never have been….. But that training……. He carried me like I was a bit of dryer fluff….. And I assure you, at a not standard size, I ain’t dryer fluff.

Goddamned dreams. Why couldn’t it FINISH? So, I’m on another continent, in this magical suite at the Corinthia, and it’s light out. I have no idea how long I slept, but there’s a coffee maker in my room and I located one of my surprises. Whole bean coffee and a bean grinder. Oh, someone was paying attention. Magical bean juice brings me back to life and reduces my homicidal rage. I start some coffee and head to the shower, which is large enough to hold a party.

Good to know. THAT might come in handy. I toss on some yoga pants a t shirt and trainers, a hoodie and my mask and set off to find the fitness center. I’ve got my tablet, so cardio theater it is. If I get involved in watching something, then I forget how long I’m on the dreadmill. Yes, I said dreadmill. I despise the fool thing, but it works and I won’t fall and harm myself. Constantine later, I’m ready for another shower and some food. I’m trying to stay away from everyone and everything as much as possible. I find a few protein bars in my carry on and look at the books. Actual books. He had someone go and get them and bring them, and that earned him a “you’re going to see God blow job”…. Henry just didn’t know it yet.

You know EXACTLY what I’m talking about. You put your hair up in a pony tail, either undress him or half undress him; ease of access as it were; get comfy in front of him, look up at him in ~that way~ through your lashes and he starts to get hard, just from that look. You run your fingers up his thighs and stick your tongue out and lick around the head of his cock, and then put the head in your mouth and twirl your tongue around it and then put one hand around the base and stroke the silk covered titanium that is his dick and lick the underside of his stiffening length and then look up at him again, and he smiles, because he KNOWS exactly what he is in for. Swirling your tongue around his dick again till you get back to the head and slowly, ever so slowly slide your hot warm mouth down his cock until he’s at the back of your throat and you make up the difference with your hand(s) and you begin to fuck him with your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks, and steadily speeding up. You reach down to cup his balls and he growls in the way you love to hear and it makes you wet. You KNOW he’s loving this….because he can’t form words anymore, and just to drag it out you slow down and he tenses up, and you’re edging HIM, as a payback for the times that he has done it to you…… bringing him to the brink of cumming and then slowing down, over and over so that when he finally does cum, the top of his head will come off and he WILL see God. Your hands working in sync with your mouth and your tongue, he arches his back up off the sofa and you know he is so close. A deep breath and down you go, past where a normal human’s gag reflex would be; if you had one; and your nose is at his pubic bone and he practically screams and ropes of cum shoot down your throat as he empties his balls into your throat. Feeling him pulse. You slowly lick your way off his cock, licking him clean , making sure you don’t miss a drop, and his heightened sensitivity makes it sweet torture as you lick and suck your way back up his cock. You look up at him and he has his head thrown back smiling.

THAT kind of blow job.

The books. I had proof he really paid attention, because he really didn’t seem the type to have ‘people’ for that. Ok, someone put them here, in this suite, but Amazon is an amazing thing. Paperback copies of Not For Glory AND Hero. They’re hard to find. The author is deceased. I buy them wherever I find them, because paperbacks don’t last forever and I’m pretty sure they were never in hard cover. Higgins’ Solo. Those were the lay ups. The Oathbound books? That was a delightful surprise. I re-read those books on a regular basis, they’re like old friends. All of the Witcher books, and he had gotten them autographed. I actually clapped my hands and squealed in glee! Andrew Vachss’ Burke series. Now that was a bunch of books that begged for a movie….but, I make better movies in my head.

I sent another email, figuring he would see it when he had some down time.

******

Hero,

You’ve really gone and outdone yourself. Thank you for the books. The feel of an actual book in my hand is incomparable, and while I like the convenience of an e reader, it isn’t the same. You picked the perfect ones! However did you guess? I shall have to come up with a manner of suitably expressing just how grateful you have made me.

Although, surely there was a room under some stairs someplace you could have stashed me? It would have been less extravagant…..Been biding my time on the dreadmill, and watching your interviews. Now, no cringing.

If I had a superpower, it would be to let people see themselves the way other people see them. We are so hard on ourselves, you know? And living in the public eye can just make it more difficult, but, darling….I’m one you were talking about scrolling through social media, and “ there’s a bad picture, and another one, and” Baby, who hurt you? I swear I will jump on my broomstick, scream “ I’ll get you my pretty! ” and drop a fucking house on them. I don’t think you have ever taken a bad picture. Ever.

I’ve seen photo shoots, out takes, family photos, you obviously intoxicated, you being silly or adorkable, and no bad shots. Stunning, in every one. Sweaty in the gym? Women go mad. Tom Ford party? Women go crazy AND men begin to question their sexuality. You show off that physique you work so hard for? Gay men faint, or hit the gym, or both. You should see the porn fakes. They’re good fakes, by the by.

And I have lost count of how many people gush about how nice you are. “Wouldn’t say shit if he had a mouth full of it, that one”. Makes me want to get you ALL riled up so you’ll talk dirty to me…. Oooohhh yes. That very proper Mister Cavill saying the filthiest things…..

I seem to have become quite aroused thinking about you, I could go and alleviate some of this …..tension.

Or….

I could let it build and save it all for you.

However, fair is fair. Sauce for the goose, as it were…. That would mean you would have to be willing to go without until quarantine was over…..

What say you?

******

And before I could over think it, I hit send. I went and did the necessary at the Temple of the Dreadmill, but Deadpool made it less horrid, and if I was *training to kill Francis* that was some sort of motivation. If only fat cells would scream as they died. I wanted to go outside, go sightseeing, be a tourist. But quarantine is quarantine, and honor is exactly that. So, other than my rooms, it was the dreadmill and that was it. I read, I wrote, I worked, looked out the windows, put my mask on and went out on the balcony, and dreamt of the days passing faster.

Two days later I hear a tink tink tink on my window. I look at my watch, and it’s afternoon. It must be a bird or some. I go back to my book. “ tink tink tink” and I get up and walk across the room , open the curtains and look out and internally shriek. He’s standing, RIGHT THERE. Tossing pebbles at my window. I side eye the mirror praying I don’t look like a gorgon, and go to the balcony and step out. “ You there. Young man. Are you in the habit of throwing stones at random windows? ” With a big smile on my face, and he looks up, and my heart forgets it’s job. Stops dead in my chest. He’s so much better looking in person.

"What light from yonder window breaks?“

Oh we are not doing Shakespeare on a street in midtown London.

"Have you lost your mind, or are you just lost?”

" I just….. Dammit, I’m coming up. I’m tired of waiting. “

"You most certainly are not. You have forty eight more hours. Surely you can last that long”

He looks up at me, with this cheeky grin and waggles his eyebrows. “I don’t think I can last twenty minutes at this point, but I’ll make damned sure you don’t complain.”

" You would tempt a saint. You know that, don’t you? And I , am no saint.

Write me a letter of intent. On real paper, with a good pen. I know how you usually prefer to approach a seduction, but, from the other side of the equation, if you please. And if you can manage a seven foot leash, I would be delighted to invite Kal for a visit tomorrow. He doesn’t have to social distance. Now, be gone, or I shall be forced to taunt you a second time”.

I smiled, blew him a kiss, turned around, walked back inside and closed the balcony doors behind me. My pulse was racing and I cursed, because I always know when I’m doing the right thing. The right thing is hard.

That night’s sleep can best be described as fitful. I tossed and turned, my dreams tormenting me with what I turned away. Henry’s kisses and caresses, that massive cock splitting me practically in half, one of my legs up over his muscular shoulder, his hands leaving bruises where he gripped my hips…The only way I was going to start this day was hot coffee and a cold shower, and several cigarettes; all at the same time. What? You’ve never seen “All That Jazz”? Where Fosse is taking speed, smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee in the shower? Twenty seven years sober, and I still have some skills. I can have a phone conversation at the same time….

One. More. Day. I can do this. I am a capable confident Dominant Woman, and I can do this. And when God created Cavill, the angels wept.

An envelope appears under the door. I pick it up, walk over to the chair, light a cigarette and open it.

^^

Ma'am,

I am somewhat out of my element, and I do wish to please you. I spent probably more time than I should have, but, I do tend to be quite particular and I strive to do my best in everything that I undertake. I believe it is part of who I am, and part of that which I can say is why I am where I am.

I would love to take you out, and show you a fantastic time. Dinner, perhaps? And as I think about the conversations we have had, I want to take care of all of it, as service to you. I will have apparel delivered, arrange transportation, make certain that the place is perfect, order for you, My Lady will want for nothing.

I have some other notions of how best I might seduce you, but I feel that those may be lost in translation. Allow me to show you?

Henry

^^

I smiled. I leaned back and sighed. Oh, he gets it. He’s not really very submissive, but switchy as all get out and he really wants to learn; from the ground up, as it were.

There was a knock at the door. I looked through the peep hole and didn’t see any one. I opened the door a crack, and heard a snuffling noise. I looked down and there’s Kal the Bear Dog, American Akita, and at the other end of the leash, sitting cross legged on the floor, is his daddy. I did the only thing that made sense. I said hi to Kal and sat down in the doorway. He sniffed me, checked me out, walked back to his dad, came back over to me, sniffed me some more, I wasn’t going to reach for him until Kal decided it was ok, or until Henry said I could. We just looked at one another, across the hallway.

I spoke first. “Thank you for the lovely letter”

“ Was that ok? ”

“It was better than ok and well you know it”

And there’s that smile, and those fangs….. Those inhumanly blue eyes…

“ I’m glad I passed the audition”

“Well, you got a call back. Don’t get too cocky”

Kal laid down in front of me and nosed my hand.

“ He’d like for you to pet him”

“ Any place in particular? ”

“He likes ear skritches”

“Coming right up, I live to serve”

And he laughed.

“ WHY does everyone laugh when I say that? What exactly is so fucking funny? ”

He tried to stop laughing but can’t control his face. Kal finds it all very entertaining and dashed back and forth between us, playing.

“You don’t appear intimidated by him”

“I’m not. I’ve had dogs larger than this baby bear….And he is just adorable!” I cooed burying my face in Kal’s fur and petting him. “ I bet you’re a great listener, and you never tell a soul, do you? And I bet you don’t steal covers”

It was easy, in the hallway, while I was getting to know Kal. No pressure. Sure, there was sexual tension. I wanted to launch myself at him, instead I got to know his best friend. I could hold out a smidge longer, there was only a little time left. I stood. I bent to hug Kal. “ Please, good sir, if you would convey my respect and admiration to your daddy, I would be ever so appreciative. Tomorrow? What time? ”

“Seven,” he said and his eyes were ablaze. Was it passion, denial, frustration?

“ Sweet dreams, ” and I went back to my room.

I shouldn’t have been so cocky. My words came back to haunt me. I tossed and turned, I fought with every pillow. The bed that had been sheer bliss previously had somehow transformed itself into a veritable bed of nails. I couldn’t go for a walk, I tried the couch. The tv aggravated me. I could find no comfort in books.

I started an email instead.

****

I have been hoist upon my own petard it seems, and while mathematics has never been my strong suit, I feel that somewhere it should be taken into account that time zones have been traversed, and that three hundred and thirty six hours has surely passed by now.

To be so close and yet so far away…… I had calculated the shooting schedule improperly, and had you not come beckoning at my window, I might have been able to continue to fool myself that this wasn’t real, or that I had created it not of whole cloth, and somehow managed to remain in idiotic bliss that we weren’t coming face to face…..

That face…oh the Gods they smiled on you, didn’t they darling? Like they were having a contest, giving their gifts….I shall give him the gift of mesmerizing beauty, but he will have to grow into it, so he also gets the gift of humility. And the other Gods applaud. Well played, old son. Not to be outdone, another bestows ambition, but tempers it with diligence so that you are graced with good fortune, that you have earned. Another gifts you with charisma, women want you, men want to be you, everybody wants to hang out with you, and damned if everyone doesn’t find you sexually appealing. “My wife has the hots for Henry Cavill, and I’d drive her to him. Maybe he’d pick me.” I shall make him chiseled, with a profile that hasn’t been seen since the heyday of old Hollywood. I’ll make him look good in LITERALLY ANYTHING. Covered in mud, hot. In a suit? Oh look out. White hair and yellow eyes? Panties dropping all over the world….

And I get to have dinner with you. IN person. Here’s something for you to ruminate upon. I’m frightened. I adore talking to you. I look forward to it. I look forward to it too much, actually. The sound of your voice gets a physical reaction from me and I KNOW there’s going to be combustion. I just want to burn.

And that scares me. Complete and utter lack of self preservation.

One touch. One kiss, one look and I fear that I will burn like a supernova.

Come, set me on fire…..

****

At eleven packages arrived. One was from a lingerie shop I had browsed at online, Bordelle. Their stuff was exquisite, really, cutting edge fashion, and wickedly sexy. I assumed he either knew or guessed my sizes. I had already done my due diligence on the dreadmill, hoping some of this whatever this was would dissipate, but even an hour at an incline of three and a half didn’t settle the starlings in my stomach. Those were no butterflies. I spent an indulgent amount of time in the bath, lotioned everything that could be with almond oil, touched up my cuticles, decided my pedicure was in good shape, exfoliating, buffing, it was madness. Nervous, I suppose. I mean, wouldn’t you be?

I began opening boxes. Stockings, of the most fine denier that you could read a newspaper through, and a Cuban heel with a seam up the back. A suspender belt of black straps, almost like an open bottom girdle, with six garters. A matching balconette bra that would really display my decolletage. There didn’t seem to be any panties. Hmmmmmm. There was a beautiful pair of shoes with a low heel and an ankle strap, which was amazing, because I don’t have the grace or the talent to wear heels. The dress that accompanied it was simple and elegant, well made, and also rather retro in it’s styling. Fitted bodice, sweetheart neckline, sleeves that ended just at the elbow, rather fit and flare in its styling, and the skirt was voluminous. My God, there was even a hat with a little veil and gloves. He didn’t miss a trick. I began to dress.

Fortunately two weeks in a hotel had not been all that bad for me. The circles under my eyes required minimal spackle, a bit of blush, a swipe of contour here and there, with my contacts in, eyeliner was out of the question and it hadn’t occurred to me that I should pack lashes. Mascara it is then. Lip stain, blotted, fixed,reapplied, blotted again, this was NOT coming off, on my mask or on a shirt collar. I spritzed some scent in all the proper places and I hoped he wouldn’t recognize it, and that it would please. I’ve never been one for traditional women’s fragrance. It smells artificial on me. I like darker notes, spice, leather, and they’re much better balanced in men’s fragrances. I get lots of compliments, and never find myself wearing the same scent as anyone else. Seams straight. Pearls. Hat. Bag. Gloves. Aaaaaand it’s 6:45. I’ve got fifteen minutes to make macrame out of my internal organs. And now, for entertainment, our brain will show a selection of every possible disaster scenario it can conjure, no matter how ridiculous. And I pace. I look at the clock again, and I swear it’s moved backwards and now says 6:40. That cannot be correct.

I shake my head. I pace some more. I pop breath mints like they’re drugs I did in the eighties. I am not going to smoke. I might pass out.

There’s a knock on the door. My heart pounds. I walk to the door and try to breathe….{internal voice; don’t lose your shit} I open the door and there he is. In a suit. Not just any suit. I mean, you can’t. Not when you’re built like a brick…………house ( apologies to the Commodores).

I could write epic poems that would put the Iliad to shame just describing his fair countenance….but I would be doing him a disservice if I didn’t spend some time on just how much style he possesses. Tailoring is one thing. Fit, proportion, but he has raised style to high art. Like old Hollywood meets English Nobility, and unless I miss my guess, that’s a bespoke Huntsman suit. Made specifically for him. To his precise measurements, by HIS cutter, who has a file on him, and all their other clients; about their preferences, in colors, fabrics, linings, how they want their trousers, best preferences, THE WHOLE NINE YARDS. Did you see *The Kingsmen*? That place. It’s actually Huntsman. I think they have been on Saville Row for over 100 years. Might even have a Royal Warrant.

The suit is perfection. Fits literally like it was made for him….. Because it was. And it took twelve weeks and multiple fittings. Charcoal grey, with a hint of a chalk stripe, very subtle, crisp white shirt, double breasted vest, with a watch chain no less, and the trousers are perfectly tailored, break at the perfect spot, and his tie is a perfect four in hand, and the tie is splashy, but flawless. Me? Oh I’m taking this all in, trying to remember to breathe, and he takes my hand, bows a little, brings it to his lips and just as his mouth is almost at my hand he turns my wrist and kisses the bare skin above my glove, and looks up at me with that smirk he has. “Ma'am? Shall we?” I put my finger under his chin and raise him to his full height . “ A moment, please. ” I step toward him and slide my hands up each side of his chest and lean in toward him. “Before we leave, I wanted to thank you for your excellent taste. Your gifts were lovely and I hope I do them justice” and I pressed my lips to his. He pulled me in closer and wrapped his arms around me, his tongue sought to part my lips and I allowed it, my hand reaching up for the side of his face, as our tongues explored each other’s mouth, tentatively at first, quickly catching fire. I didn’t want to stop.

But I knew if I didn’t, we’d be rutting in this doorway and whatever he had planned would be for nothing.

Difficult as it was, I pulled back and smiled. “ I could do this all night, happily. And more, or did you want to keep our original plan? ” He adjusted himself ( I don’t think he knows I saw that ) and took my arm in his. “Do you have everything?”

"Thank you, yes. I have my key, my bag, I am in your hands" . He closed the door behind us and walked me down the hall. We exited the hotel through a side door and got into a car with tinted windows. “ Please tell me I’m not wearing your lipstick” Smiling again, I remarked that he wasn’t but if he wanted to… And he laughed and pulled me in for another kiss. We made out. Like teenagers. In the back of this heavily tinted car, and I couldn’t get enough of his kisses.

We drove for a bit, I’m not certain how long, I frankly was too caught up in kissing him, and occasionally pulling back to look into those eyes. We could have driven off the cliffs of Dover, I’d never have known. We turned down a side street, then an alley and stopped in the back of a building. He got out of the car and said he’d be around to get me. Ok. I’ll behave. He opened my door, offered me his hand to help me out, said something to the driver, then took my arm and we walked the few steps to the door in the back of this building. Henry was grinning like the cat that ate the canary, and I couldn’t figure out why. He knocked on the door and after a minute or two, it opened, and we went down a short hallway into a kitchen where there was a booth. IN. THE. KITCHEN.

It was all I could do to not scream and go completely fangirl, for at that moment I realized where we were. This was the imagination station; the chef’s table at Gordon Ramsay’s restaurant on Royal Hospital Road. I turned to my dinner date and threw my arms around his neck, peppering his face with kisses. “ How did you know? How did you manage this? You realize that this might just kill me….oh, right, we have a provision for that. ”

He bowed from the waist “ My Lady is pleased? ”

“Oh, darling, pleased is not the word! ”

Dinner was spectacular. Course after course of the most deliciously ingenious things the chefs could create, with pristine service and just the two of us. Sharing bites, oh you must taste this, ooh! This, taste! Stealing kisses in between courses, and such easy conversation. We talked about books, and we talked about music, and he ribbed me about my ‘frozen in amber’ musical taste and I told him I had checked out some of the bands on his running playlist and liked quite a few of them. We sat close to one another, thighs touching, holding hands between courses, I kept getting lost in those eyes, but I did manage to hold up my end of the conversation.

I asked him if he was disappointed about not drinking during dinner and he countered with “ I haven’t seen you smoke”. We agreed that kissing was worth some sacrifices. Truth be told I did want a cigarette, but not as much as I wanted him. Dessert, coffee, more conversation, and I asked what else he had up his sleeve. He smiled. “ There is that American expression about the gun show?” I threw back my head and practically roared. “ I have this well in hand. Shall we?” And he took my hand and we got up and walked out the same back way we had come in, to the waiting car.

We arrived back at The Corinthia, and I was hoping against hope that the evening wasn’t over, but, I hadn’t planned it, so I didn’t want to presume.

“I suppose you’ll need to go walk Kal. Not having thumbs, it isn’t as though he can walk himself…."

” Trying to shake me already, are you? “

” No, of course not! “

” Kal has a date too. Later we might compare notes. But he never tells" he said with a slightly tilted head and a smirk.

“ Then I suppose I should invite you up? To see my etchings? ”

“Or your tattoos…”

[msnetherlands]

Strangers in Paris

Hello,

First post ever!

I have only discovered Henry Cavill earlier this year but have quickly become hypnotized by how beautiful he is inside and out. I have also discovered Henry Cavill fan fiction a few months ago and have become addicted to it! I never understood the appeal of fan fiction when other people would talk about it, but definitely do now!

This is my first attempt at writing Henry Cavill fan fiction, so please be kind!

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (no race, tan skin, average body type)

Warning: NSFW, 18+, smut, sex, oral sex, fingering, choking, dirty talk.

Word count: Approx 3.5k

I do not own August Walker, Henry Cavill, etc.

Tags: #HenryCavill #HenryCavillSmut #HenryCavillFanFiction #AugustWalker #AugustWalkerSmut #AugustWalkerFanFiction

Strangers in Paris

After a painful and heartbreaking year, you decided to take a solo trip to Europe. You were about 30 and all your friends had either galivanted around Europe during college or in their early 20s – some even multiple times with different boyfriends. But you were waiting. For what? You don’t know and now you found yourself 30 years old having only been to a handful of countries. So here you were, on your first trip to Europe and solo. Paris, Rome, and London.

You got in the night before and it was a long trip from the US, with a flight delayed and sitting on the tarmac for over an hour. You were happy to check into your hotel and luckily got a good night’s rest, minimizing jet lag.

A ray of light peaked through the curtains. You must not have done a great job closing them the night before. You got ready for your day and were excited to see the sights: museums, landmarks, etc.

As you started your day walking towards the Louve, you spot a charming café and decide to pop in for a light breakfast. After grabbing a coffee and plain butter croissant you continue your walk to the Louve.

It was everything you hoped it would be – so much beautiful art housed under one exquisite roof.

Afterwards you decided to get lunch at a restaurant you found in your research. It was off the beaten path and had wonderful reviews.

It was a bit chilly so you were seated inside. Your table was one of those half booths where the back was a long cushy row and the other side of the row of tables were chairs. Before that there were more tables with all chairs for seats. The host sat you at the corner half booth near the front window. Perfect, I can people watch outside a little. You loved people watching. Not in a creepy-stalking-the-same-person-way, but you just loved watching people pass by and wonder about their lives. But for someone who liked people watching you didn’t pay close attention to any other patrons in the restaurant. You settled in and opened the menu.

From over your menu you notice a man in the table directly in front of you. His back was facing you and you go back to deciphering the French menu. You had learned a few key words like chicken, pork, and beef beforehand, especially since you didn’t eat pork.

Oh, duck confit! France would be the best place to eat this.

As the man sitting at the table infront of you got up to go to the restroom, your waiter came around shortly after and you ordered the duck confit and a half bottle of red wine. Well, I am on vacation.

As you wait for your food, you contemplated between pulling your book out to read or people watching. You decided to people watch since you had such a gorgeous window seat. Your waiter came back with your wine and you sipped it before leaning your cheek on your hand and gazing outside.

An elderly couple slowly walked by outside on the sidewalk. The woman dropped a piece of paper and they both stopped. As she tried to lean over and grab it, her husband (you are assuming) stopped her and bent down to grab it and handed it back to her. She smiled at him and he smiled back, and they continued to walk on. You sighed, that’s love. You missed that. You knew you could pick up items you dropped yourself, but it’s nice to know someone would be there to offer help. You smiled.

“Well, that’s a beautiful smile.”

You jolted a bit as you came out of your thought. The man sitting in the table in front of you had not only returned to his seat, but was now in his opposite chair facing you. He was dressed more formal than most people out that day: grey suit, white collared shirt, a black tie; and you noticed a long greyish brown trench coat laying over the back of his old chair. You would think he was dressed for a corporate job but it was Saturday, so you weren’t sure what his occasion was. Quite boring clothing, however, the man himself was anything but boring.

His chocolate colored curly hair gave way to a few trundles over his forehead, his eyes were strikingly blue, and he had a jaw line that could cut glass. But what caught you off guard was his mustache. He sported a bit of stubble with it, but you were still shocked that he didn’t look like a straight pedophile with it. Serial killer maybe, but not a pedophile. You found it odd, but he was quite handsome and possibly sexy.

Gosh, has it been that long since you had been with a man that you find a mustache sexy?

Before you could respond to his compliment the man spoke again.

“So, why is a beautiful girl like you eating lunch all by herself?” He said in an American accent.

“Just enjoying time to myself.” Best keep it vague and not let him know you were traveling alone.

At that moment your waiter came back with your meal. Saved by the meal!

As you cut into the duck you could feel the man’s eyes still on you. You looked up and he was leaning back on his chair while he toyed the handle to his coffee mug. You gave him an awkward smiling hoping he would look away and move on so you could enjoy your meal.

During your meal, the man spent some time looking down at this coffee mug, asked for a refill, and was reading a newspaper, an American newspaper, The Washington Post. You were thankful for the partition the newspaper created between his gaze on you.

You finished your meal and were on your last glass of wine. You saw the man in front of you pay his check. Just when you thought he was going to leave, he gets up only to move to the chair open at your table.

“The name is August.” He introduces himself as he sits without your permission. You introduce yourself and August continues talking.

“Listen, I’m in Paris by myself in between projects. And it seems like you are here on vacation too. I hear these ‘vacations’ are more fun when you have someone with you. What do you say we enjoy some of Paris’ beautiful sights together?” Well, that was forward. You thought about his proposition and it seemed like he picked up on your hesitation and your eyebrows instinctively raising.

“My full name is August Walker. I am originally from Ohio in the US, but I live in the DC area now. I have a boring desk job with the government and this is the first vacation I have had in 5 years.

First vacation in 5 years, well we have that in common, you thought to yourself. Although he was a stranger you figured if you stay in public places and don’t walk down any alleys with him you could stay safe.

“That sounds like a nice idea. But I’m not following you into any alleys or nonpublic places, I’m not getting taken.” You half joked but August seemed to find your comment amusing and returned a smile. When he smiled you noticed his 2 canine teeth which looked sharper than the average person’s canines, almost like fangs.

Damn, his smile is sexy.

You flagged your waiter for the check, but he turned to August with a confused look and then back at you about to explain….

“I took care of it.” August interrupted the waiter and your waiter confirmed with a smile and nod.

“Oh, why? When did you do that?” You asked, surprised.

“When I asked for my own check, I asked if I could have yours. I knew I wanted to ask you to spend time me.”

“That was really nice, but you really didn’t have to do that.” You said, feeling almost embarrassed. Why did you feel embarrassed? You don’t know why, but you could feel your cheeks heating up (thank god for your naturally tan skin or you would show your true colors with flushed cheeks).

“I know I didn’t have to.” August responded with a small smile while still maintaining intense eye contact.

As you both got up and put your jackets on to leave, you were reminded at how professionally August was dressed in his suite and tie. You both looked funny next to each other, you with your dark jeans, brown ankle boots, and red long sleeved crew neck form fitting shirt. Luckily you happen to be wearing your own beige trench coat, so once you both put your jackets on you both didn’t look as odd walking down the street together. You pulled out your travel notes.

“So, I’m not sure what you’ve already seen, but I was going to walk over and see Notre Dame…” you explained as you skimmed your sheet. You had created a 7 page document full of landmarks to see, museums to visit, confirmation numbers, embassy locations, etc.

“My vacation just started this morning, so I’m up for whatever you want sweetheart.” August said as he followed your lead. You were a bit shocked he called you sweetheart since you two only met, but decided to brush it off.

“I haven’t even been inside my hotel room, was only able to drop my bags off since the room wasn’t ready yet. That’s why I am still in my office clothes from the day before.”

That explains his attire.

You and August spent the afternoon visiting Notre Dame, Arc de Triomphe, viewing the Eiffel tower from the outside, and just walking around to enjoy the city. You learned that August didn’t have too much close family, just his mother and younger sister, and his father was out of the picture earlier in his life. It seemed he always had a close relationship with his mother, but she was a single mom and worked hard herself to provide for the family which is why he had been on his own since 18, working for everything he had himself. You shared a little about your upbringing before you both reached your next stop.

You were kind of surprised at how much fun you were having spending the afternoon with a total stranger (well, not so much a stranger anymore). And it didn’t hurt that August was easy on the eyes.

It was slowing getting darker and you had dragged August all around Paris to see the sights on your list, but it seemed like he followed you happily.

“It’s getting late….” As much fun as you were having, it was getting dark, and it didn’t change the fact that you and August had still only met earlier that day.

“So it is…” August said as he looked down while you two strutted by a corner café. “Are you hungry?”

You were.

“Umm…well, yes a little bit, I guess.” You replied. Ok, I could enjoy one more meal with my new friend and then head back to my hotel.

==

After the first day was so much fun, you and August spent another day in Paris together roaming around, seeing sights, etc. By the end of the night August was walking you back to your hotel. You thought he would just leave you at the lobby like he did the night before, but this time he was walking you up to your door. It wasn’t hard, you both had been laughing at a funny joke you told due to all the wine you both had during dinner.

As you got to your door, you fumbled for your room key. Before you could insert the card, August had softly embraced you into a kiss. Oh god, he’s good. But you welcomed it. It felt so hot and so comfortable all at once.

As you two slowly parted away, you looked up at August while he still held your body close to him. You looked up, bit your lower lip, and smiled at him. “Would you like to come in for a minute?”

“Only for a minute, sweetheart.” August replied with a devious grin. Or maybe that was the wine getting to you?

Once inside, August had you pressed up against the wall even before your coats could hit the floor. You both shed your coats and shoes without breaking your kiss. He trailed kisses down the front of your shirt and stopped at your stomach. You were not chubby but also not the skinniest girl and were always self-conscious about your belly. But drunk and in minimal lighting you felt a little more confident. He lifted your shirt and sucked on your belly button and he lifted your shirt clear off. You took that as your que to shed him of his sweater.

“You are so hot. I’ve been thinking of this since I first saw you the other day.” August said in between kisses.

Within a few more minutes you were down to your black bra and lace black thong and August had only his boxer briefs. As you both continued to kiss you felt his body and it was rock hard. You pulled away for a few minutes to get a better look. August Walker was built like a fucking Greek God. His body was all muscle and you felt he needed a larger size of boxer briefs at how strained his bulge was.

Suddenly you were not feeling as confident anymore.

Gosh, he must be really drunk to look like that and want to try to hook up with me. You thought. But you continued trying to not let your thoughts get the better of you.

“Oh, you are so beautiful. Are you ready for me?” August trailed his head down towards your pussy. He started to massage it over your thong with his fingers. “Already so fucking wet for me, huh?”

Before you could reply, August had shoved your thong aside and had his tongue licking the inside of your dripping cunt.

“Oh fuck, August…” You had men down there previously, but never had you been given a sensation like this. As euphoric as it felt, you wanted something more, something bigger, longer, harder in you to reach your peak.

“August, please, I want you.”

“Not quite yet, sweetling.” He flipped you so your feet were towards the pillows and your head was on the edge of the bed, almost hanging off. He got off the bed and positioned himself over your head.

“Open up, sweetheart.” He nudged his dick at your mouth and you willingly opened up letting him face fuck you.

“Oh yeah, take me. Just like that, take me like a slut. You’re my fucking slut, huh?” You should have found his comments degrading but it was turning you on so bad.

August’s hands were playing with your tits, switching from squeezing and jiggling them. You always found your chest average, but it was clear August did not. “I fucking love your tits!” He kept one hand on a tit and travelled the other down to your dripping cunt and started to finger you. “Yeah, you like my cock in your mouth. You like me face fucking you while I finger you.”

You were fighting your gag reflex. You felt like a pornstar being used by August, but it only made everything hotter.

Soon your throat was beginning to feel sore. Without cumming, August withdrew from you mouth.

“I’m not going to cum just yet. I want to feel that delicious cunt of yours.” August reached for his jacket taking out a condom from the inside pocket.

You sat half up on your bed, leaning against your elbows as you watched the Greek God in front of you prepare his huge dick to destroy you. He crawled over you, kissed your lips tenderly, and pushed you back down on the bed.

“August,” You stuttered embarrassed to say what came next, “it’s been a while for me. Please be gentle.” It was the truth. It had been a while since you had had sex with a real man. And although a girl can take care of herself, none of your toys were near the size of August’s dick.

“Don’t worry my sweetheart, I wouldn’t dream of hurting you.” He said with his devious smile again.

August slowing pushed into your tight pussy. You hoped with every inch that was all he had to give, but it wasn’t. You gasped as he finally bottomed out, still keeping eye contact. You could tell your expression aroused him even more because you swore his dick grew even more while inside of you.

Soon August hooked an arm under your knee and was plunging in and out of you, increasing to a punishing pace. He sat up with your legs on either side of his waist and continue to ram you while on hand played with your breasts and the other found your clit and circled his thumb. You couldn’t see straight from all the pleasure.

You were not sure how long you would last, but luckily you felt him stop a bit to shift your body.

August had flipped you on your stomach and dragged you by your legs to bend over the side of the bed.

He gently lifted your hips with his hands. “It’s ok sweetheart, it’s ok.” August said while rubbing your back and your head rest on the bed. August gently pushing his dick back into your wet pussy. “Oh yes, so fucking tight.” All you could do is whimper and hope the change in position came with a slower speed.

But you were wrong. August went back to beating into you at a punishing pace. You could feel your ass rippling with each thrust.

You were incapable of saying words, only noises exited your mouth each time August entered your body.

August reached for your arms, grabbing your elbows, and raising your body up closer to him as he continued to thrash into your pussy. He had you hoovering there for a minute, curving your back which intensified the feeling. Soon he pulled you all the way so your back was flush to his chest. As he fucked you one hand toyed with your breast and the other wrapped around your neck. August’s slight grip on your neck made you even more horny.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you? You like me choking you. You’re such a fucking slut. But you’re my slut. You’re my slut to do whatever I please with. I’m going to fuck your poor little pussy all night. You’re mine. This pussy is mine.”

With each thrust, August’s grip got tighter. But he released before he choked you out and his hand weaved to grip your hair while the other found your hip for more stability.

August’s balls slapped against your clit as he pounded into you. The feeling was like none other that you had ever experienced. Your eyes were rolled back and you had lost all control over verbal abilities.

“Are you ready for me?” August asked, knowing full well you were not going to be to answer. Nothing coming out of your mouth made sense as your silky milk oozed out around his dick allowing him to fuck you harder.

Suddenly, August pulled out and flipped you over on your back (simultaneously removing his condom) and sprayed your chest and stomach with hot ropes of his seed as he still stood at the edge of the bed still over you. The noise that left his mouth as he released was feral.

Still catching his breath, August came down to the bed next to you on his side. With one hand he light smeared his cum on your body.

“So fucking good, you did so fucking good sweetheart.”

Your eyes drooped with lust as you moved your head to face August. Your poor battered cunt throbbed, but you had never been more satisfied by a man.

August got up and walked to the bathroom. You could hear him turn the water on. He returned with a washcloth and wiped his cum off your body. The leaned over and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. To your surprise, he picked up your limp body and headed towards the bathroom. August had drawn a bath and gently placed you inside. The water was the perfect temperature and your body settled in, the warm water feeling wonderful around your used pussy. After a few minutes August joined you in the tub, positioning himself behind you. You leaned against his hard chest almost dosing off, tried from the recent activities. August grabbed a clean washcloth and some soap and started gently rubbing your shoulder, arms, and chest. His fingers lost the washcloth and found your clit under water. He gently rubbed your clit in circles with his thumb. You whimpered at the sensitivity and he took that cue that you needed some time to recuperate before round two.

You don’t know when, but at some point, August had wrapped you in a towel and placed you in bed where you slept deeply for the night.