#Rini rambles | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

qwimchii · 11 months

Note

Begging for Capt. Price filth 😭

𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘦 — 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘦

𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘳!𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘹 𝘧!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘶𝘱, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘤 — 5.1𝘬

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘳!𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵&𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯, 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘫𝘰𝘣 & 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, (𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭) 𝘴𝘪𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬?? (𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨?? 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘳… 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳), 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬-𝘪𝘯𝘴 <3

note: pure filth… someone possessed me when i wrote this idk it wasnt me u guys, istg. also, the title inspired by aphrodite by rini!

with a swirl of hot, slick shame in your stomach and a hard swallow, you glanced up from the map directions on your phone to the establishment in front of you.

you didn’t know what you were expecting. when your friend Kylie had recommended you to this place several months ago, you had rolled your eyes, nose wrinkling at the idea that some people would spend so much money on a place like this.

a couple weeks ago, several hours into your birthday party, Kylie had privately pulled you aside from the get-together to hand you a little gift bag with hot pink tissue paper scrunched up at the top. your eyes flitted from the bag to the beaming smile on her face, a nervous laugh building in the back of your throat.

“open it!” she prodded, directing your hand to the tissue paper. pushing it aside, you reached down into the bag and flexed your fingers around till you found a birthday envelope and… something else.

you pulled it out, eyes flicking over the sleek black card with a fancy, modern print etched into the front. the garden of eden.

a bitter feeling pooled into your mouth. “a business card…?”

she bounced lightly on her feet, bumbling as she shook her head, speaking with a low thrill. “remember that amazing spa and amazing masseur i was telling you about?”

she paused for dramatic effect, the grin stretching her cheeks almost comically. your brows just raised slightly in a silent offering for her to continue.

“i know how much you’ve been stressed out lately, so i got you a gift card for an intimate massage!”

at that, you stifled a groan, dismayed that your friend would give you such an expensive birthday gift. but knowing the fact that Kylie sported a louis vuitton purse and matching suitcase on that last girl’s travel trip you had, could you really be surprised?

not to mention the fact that Kylie’s husband had gifted her the keys to a new audi at her last birthday party. which was hosted on a yacht.

a tight grimace pinched your face as you recited a strained thank you, letting her pull you into a suffocating hug as she rambled on about something you weren’t really listening to.

you couldn’t help but grimace all over again as you rejoined the party. why was she going to these intimate massage places when she had a husband?

you’d find out soon you supposed, narrowing your eyes at the sleek exterior of the spa. the unmistakable logo illuminated above the trim entrance. the garden of eden.

you were ready to pull into a cracked parking lot riddled with potholes and a crumbling brick building with a neon sign that flashed obnoxiously. not this epitome of wealth.

before you could tuck your tail between your legs and flee, you braved the street, striding over the crosswalk with a confident step that slowly waned the closer you approached the intimidating entrance. by the time you swung the glass door open and stood in front of the receptionist, you were a muddle of anxiety and regret.

the receptionist glanced over the top of her computer, a look of suppressed impatience on her face when you said nothing, blubbering like a fish as she flicked two strands of hair out the way, her hair gelled back into a tight updo.

“name?” she said with a raised, perfectly manicured brow. you gave it meekly and she nodded, fingers moving over the keyboard with mechanic clacks.

“and what service are you here for today, ma’am?”

you withered where you stood. “intimate massage.”

but she just nodded, not even sparing you a glance as she slid a clipboard over the counter.

“fill this out and sign here please,” she directed, tapping an acrylic nail at the bottom of the page, eyes still trained on the screen of her computer.

you just nodded dumbly, picking up a pen as your eyes ran over the checkboxes of the page, the hair on the back of your neck bristling as you let out a squeak of surprise.

you bringed the paper closer to your eyes just to make sure you weren’t dreaming. in a list of checkboxes beneath the precursory personal information, you swallowed as you absorbed the contents.

please check the box(es) of your preference:

silent massage (no verbal cues)

verbal praise

verbal degradation

groping

choking (light/rough)

edging

orgasm denial

slapping (breasts/vagina/glutes)

clitoris play

vaginal penetration with fingers...

you felt like throwing up as the list went on, endlessly went on, and ended with a space for your signature. for your consent, you presumed, feeling nauseous as you swayed on your feet.

“ma’am?”

you head snapped up to the receptionist who was tapping a payment terminal on the counter, brows furrowed as she looked you over.

“sorry,” you said weakly, fumbling to reach into your purse and snap open your wallet, fishing out the gift card and shoving it into the machine before scrawling down the necessary information into the blanks of the document and almost closing your eyes when you checked certain boxes down the list, flushed with shame. ready to just get this over with.

“are you aware that this gift card requests for a specific masseur?”

you just nodded, the words sliding from your ears as she listed off more precautionary procedurals before finally gesturing to another glass door to the side of the front reception.

“that way please, miss. your masseur will be waiting for you at the end of the hall.”

blindly, you strode over to push the doors open, letting out a strained exhale as you walked down the hallway with careful steps, taking in the contemporary art stacked along the walls and the sweet tinge of a calming incense in the air that didn’t calm the nerves that twisted your stomach at all.

at the end of the hall, and past another set of glass double doors, you saw the broad back of a man in a black linen set talking to a shorter woman in the same uniform. when her eyes flicked to you, she ushered him away and disappeared down a different hallway. then, he turned to you, hands casually against his hips. a low curse left your lips before you could prevent it.

again, you found yourself dismayed, because you didn’t know what you were expecting. maybe, an old wrinkly masseur like in those shitty pornos your ex boyfriend used to watch. this bearded man was, undoubtedly, older than you, but ruggedly handsome in a way that made your stomach flip.

not with nerves, but with anticipation. or maybe a mix of the two.

he closed the distance between you, looking down at you from his tall height, a polite smile on his lips but a dark, knowing look in his blue eyes that flushed your cheeks.

“john price,” he said, voice rough and gravely as he offered a hand. you returned with your name shyly, letting him pull you closer as you shook his large hand that dwarfed your own.

fuck. he was hot, and that knowledge made you dizzy.

in a haze, you let him lead you further down the hallway, startling when he glanced at you from over his shoulder.

“i saw that you specially requested me, ma’am.”

“i…” you groped around for words, prickling all over with embarrassment.

“my friend,” you settled on finally, “she requested you.”

his brows rose before he trained his attention forward once more. “your friend…?”

he let out a low huff of laughter, turning on his heel as he motioned down a branching hallway lined with opaque, glass doors.

“and where are they?”

you swallowed hard, staring at him. “well… this was a birthday gift.”

he just looked amused, like he was mulling over something very thoughtfully.

“hm.”

you followed the silent directions he gave you, halting at a door in the middle of the hallway. when his hands closed around the handle, a flurrying panic seized you, and the warring emotions in your heart stumbled to the forefront.

“wait—!”

he paused, brows raised in expectation.

fuck, what were you doing? the voices in you were clambering around and loud, mind grappling with itself. you couldn’t chicken out of this now, you chided yourself, biting down on your lower lip.

or could you?

but John just huffed, twisting the door open to… a bathroom?

“all customers must take showers before service,” he explained, a shrewd smirk twisting his lips. “did the receptionist not disclose as such?”

“i—” you stumbled through your words, “no. no she did.” you just had been too nervous to listen.

you brushed past him, stepping into the pristine bathroom and slowly turning in your spot to give him a weak, strained smile.

when he didn’t close the door, just tilted his head at you, the smirk sliding from his face, a shiver slithered down your spine.

“if i can assist you in any way,” he said slowly, a considerate gaze pinning you to your spot, “please notify me.”

his words were tinged with something darker beneath the kindness of them that turned the shiver into a wrack of shudders. like there was an offer hidden within them that you could pluck out, that he wanted you to seize.

his eyes flicked to the shower behind you and you melted into a puddle of hot liquid. help you in the shower?

“m’fine,” you squeaked, unable to meet his eyes.

for an unbreathing moment, he blinked at you. then, he nodded, that polite smile flashing through his face.

“your private room will be number sixteen. down the hall on the left.”

he shut the door softly.

the breath deflated from your lungs and your shoulders slumped, a crawling heat over your skin that propelled you to strip yourself of your clothes and toss them into an untidy pile before stepping into the shower.

you let the water run over you for longer than necessary, careful to keep your hair swept out of the way as you scrubbed yourself again. then again. and again.

you didn’t know what to do with yourself and the heat that wouldn’t leave your cheeks. your stomach. the place between your thighs.

it was infuriating, and you turned the water colder and colder till you were shivering under the icy blast of water. still, that heat burned you inside and out, and the thought of that masseur wasn’t helping in the least.

he looked strong—tall and muscled. handsome. god.

you looked down to the pulsing place between your thighs and lamented. lately, you had been so pent up. life was debilitating and wrung you so dry that you couldn’t find time to have a bit of fun with a stray partner at the local bar anymore.

you deserved this. swallowing hard, you tried to convince yourself of the words when you twisted the knob of the shower, determined to shake yourself of that swirling shame that seized your insides as you dried yourself with fury.

opposite the sparkling sink was a row of robes with a plaque etched above each one instructing customers to don one instead of clothing. you jerked a lavish robe on, conscious of the way your tits were so visible beneath its silky softness, and shoved your clothes into the plastic bag from the dispenser on the sink.

you deserved this. it rang clear as you stepped out the bathroom clad in slippers and the revealing robe. you could do this.

as you stomped down the hallway, sharply turning left as he instructed, you made a beeline for room sixteen and pushed the door open.

when you stepped in, letting your weight fall against the door behind you, you stayed there, frozen in place as you watched John crouched down at some cabinets on the far side of the room. in the middle of it, there was a plush massage table that looked equally comfortable and equally ominous.

you opted for your spot pressed to the door.

“was it good?”

his abrupt question startled you as he turned with some bottles in his hands. with a flush of embarrassment, you knew they must’ve been for…

you gnawed on the inner softness of your cheek.

“good?”

his brows raised a little as he put the bottles down by the massage table. “the shower.”

your eyes widened. the shower?

he stared at you for a long moment before a gruff laugh escaped him, turning away to straighten the covering on the massage table.

“was the shower to your liking, ma’am?”

you gaped, mouth opening and then closing, fishing around to see if there was some sort of innuendo in his words. a little voice in you mewled that there must’ve been, otherwise your face wouldn’t be so hot like this.

you mumbled some semblance of an affirmative and he nodded. “good.”

when you still stayed pressed to the door, cowering like a little animal, he gave you a soft look. “would you like me to put your items into a locker, ma’am?”

you dropped the plastic bag and your purse by the door, nudging them into the corner of the room with your foot.

“no thank you.”

you still stayed pressed to the door and he leaned his hip against the table.

“are you alright ma’am?”

“mhmm.”

an ocean of goosebumps perked up on your skin when he began edging closer to you.

“what brought you in here today, love?”

it was such an intimate question, you didn’t really know what to say. you took in the sharpness of his jaw, broad shoulders, and the gentle outline of his muscled torso beneath the thin cloth of his shirt.

“stress,” you squeaked, and he cocked his head.

“yeah? been feelin’ pent up?”

your skin was set alight. he was only an arm’s length away now, stopping at a distance that was still professional but felt smothering. you couldn’t breath, hyper aware when his eyes dropped to the swell of your breasts beneath the thin robe.

suddenly, you felt naked. and embarrassingly wet.

“mhmm.”

his eyes flicked back up to meet yours, so thick and dark that your thighs clenched together. “don’t worry, darlin’. i can help you relax.”

he offered a hand to you, and with a shy feeling, you curled your hand into his, letting him gently tug you toward the massage table.

“we’ll take it slow, yeah?”

you nodded meekly, untying the sash of your robe with clumsy hands. when the ropes fell to your sides, you stood stock still, looking up at him meekly as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“sorry,” you said weakly, guilt thick and cold in your gut for making his job so difficult.

“s’alright,” he coaxed, not a crack of impatience in his face.

when you still made no move to remove it yourself, he ghosted a hand over the waist of the robe. “may i?”

you nodded, screwing your eyes shut when he tugged it from your shoulders, just the rustling of the robe falling to the floor and his calm breaths filling the room. a breeze enveloped your exposed skin, and you jolted when his warm knuckles brushed over your arm.

cracking your eyes open, he gestured towards the massage table, and you eased yourself onto it, nerves twisting hot and livid in your stomach, staring up at the ceiling and refusing to look anywhere else.

stiff as a board against the table, you were almost relieved when he stepped away from you, switching on some music in the background. it wasn’t lusty and sensual like you thought it would be, but lilted with a calming resonance. like something that you would meditate to every now and then.

you heard him step closer to you once more, saw him in your peripheral, but nonetheless you jolted when his fingers ghosted over your bare stomach.

“just relax,” he said softly, eyes trained on your face as he rubbed over your stomach, sliding up beneath your breasts.

you held your breath, confused when his warm touch never made contact with the plush of your tits, but instead dipped back down and skipped over your cunt, sliding over your thighs and squeezing lightly.

gnawing on your lower lip, you stole a glance at the easy look on his face, meeting his gaze with a confused one. he lifted his other hand to rest on your forehead, rubbing at the spot between your eyebrows.

oh. that felt good.

“close your eyes,” he commanded, and you complied immediately, so distracted by his fingertips massaging over the tense spots on your head that you almost missed when his knuckles stroked your inner thighs.

“m’nervous,” you admitted finally, feeling loosened by the ministrations over your scalp.

he just hummed, moving his other hand from your inner thighs. there was a warm touch on your pubic bone, just above your cunt, and your hips jumped with a gasp. “just listen to the music.”

“i can make you feel good,” he whispered, and you shivered, face flushing when the wetness between your thighs was beginning to grow uncomfortable.

it felt wrong to be under this touch of this older man. a stranger, who you were letting run his hands all over you.

the thought just made you shudder, stomach in knots when he slid his hand up your stomach and gently kneaded your breasts.

you whimpered, arching into the touch blindly, and he hummed in approval.

“tha’s it love.”

you released a shaky exhale under the little burst of praise from his lips, and a needy voice in you demanded for more.

then, the warm sensations left your body, leaving you cold and wanting on the table, and your eyes snapped open, finding him already looking down at you with amusement as he unstoppered a bottle of… something.

he poured it into his hands, rubbing them together, warming it, you thought dizzily, as he slid his hot and oiled hands over your body, pushing down with a pressure that had your mind spinning as your head thudded back against the table.

his movements became bolder as more whimpers fell from your lips, squeezing your tits, the flesh of your stomach, then your thighs, before he picked up the bottle and poured a little oil straight onto your naval.

“spread your thighs,” he commanded in a low tone that had your knees snapping open immediately, much to your embarrassment.

he cooed a praise that was lost to your ears as he spread the oil over your naval, then your inner thighs, completely neglecting your cunt as it pulsed angrily.

“mister—” you struggled for words as your hips bucked up, feeling so so embarrassed at how needy you were growing, all his touches over your body heating you up and drowning you in a never-ending, spirling pool of want.

“you can call me John,” he said, pressing your hips back down to the table with unnerving patience. “or sir, if that’s what you like, darlin’.”

you didn’t miss the suggestiveness in his gravelly tone, smothering a yelp when he tugged your thighs wider, hooking an arm beneath one to stretch your hips further apart.

when he craned his neck down to observe your cunt, just staring unblinkingly, you were flushed with embarrassment.

“please—” you begged weakly, squirming a little on the table.

he looked down at you from over his shoulder, and the lust blown look in his face made you shudder.

is this what all appointments were like? for all customers? you thought dizzily, understanding how someone could get addicted to a place like this. a place where John was.

“thought you wanted this love,” he said slowly, and you nodded eagerly.

“touch me, please—”

in a quick movement, he slapped your inner thigh, palm connecting with the side of your pussy lips on the way, and you jolted against the table, a loud moan torn from your lips as the sting sizzled out into pleasurable fizzles all over your skin.

“thought you wanted to be teased,” he said softly, like he was being kind when he rubbed over the stinging spot. “edged. slapped. degraded.”

his fingers ghosted over the shell of your clit and you gasped, hips twitching up into the relief of the featherlight touch.

“s’what you filled out on the contract,” he grunted, voice considerably more aggressive when he pinched your clit lightly. a little cry left your lips and he hummed, a smile on his lips as he watched you squirm.

“such a depraved little thing.” his head ducked down to stare down at your cunt again, like he was talking to it, as his fingers brushed over your throbbing cunt.

“so fuckin’ wet already, slut.”

then, he slapped your cunt, gentler than before, but then he did it again, and you twisted on the table, tears springing up into your eyes at the pleasurable sting that traveled straight to the heat in your stomach.

“please,” you practically sobbed, clit pulsing and throbbing and god—

he thumbed away the tears on your cheeks, gently shushing you as he stepped back to pour some more oil into his hands before rubbing his whole palm over your cunt, oiling the slick wetness of your sex and completely ignoring the whimpers and whines on your lips as he did as he pleased.

or maybe, as you pleased, since you were the customer, but as you arched into his touch and the sensual, torturous circles he massaged into your clit, you couldn’t help but feel like it didn’t matter what you wanted anymore.

you were under his mercy as he held you down, snaking two hands around your wrists and binding them against your tits to keep you from squirming so much as he played with your clit.

“good?”

the gentle check-in spun your head and you nodded dumbly, looking up at him in a blurry haze. with your reassurance, he smiled softly, pinning you down with something dangerously close to an affectionate look before more filth was spilling from his mouth.

“this just needed a little attention, didn’t it, pretty girl?”

even if his eyes were on you, you knew he was talking about your cunt, and the lewd way he said it had you choking on an affirming moan.

“yeah, tha’ was all,” he said, so rough and delicious that the sound of his voice made your cunt clench around nothing. painfully empty.

“just needed a lil’ attention, a quick orgasm, and you’ll be good as new, hmm?”

mind dizzy, you could barely respond to him, brows pinched as you stuttered and fumbled around for a response.

but he continued without you. “needed an older and experienced man to take care of you, hm?”

“fuck,” you cried, grinding your hips against his touch, eyes rolling back into your head because all the sensations felt blinding.

“suck a dirty slut,” he cooed, slapping your clit in a couple wet smacks that had your hips bucking up before he was rubbing his fingers against you again, faster this time.

he released your wrists and slid hand to your jaw, pressing down on your jugular as some of his fingers teased your lower lip. easily, you conceded, sliding your mouth open so he could press two fingers deep down your hot throat, screwing your eyes shut as you tried not to choke and just suck.

“good girl,” he grunted roughly, sending you spiraling when his hand crept further down your cunt and stretching your sopping walls with a big finger. then, as soon as his first finger was buried to the hilt, he was slipping in another one, cunt squelching and sucking around his fingers as he fucked you with his hand.

“oh John—” you couldn’t help the breathy, warbled gasp around a mouthful of his fingers, heart jumping at the way his gaze just darkened down at you.

“so greedy,” he admonished at a whisper, and you whimpered, swirling your tongue around his fingers as you reached out to anchor on something, anything, only satiated when your hand came into contact with the fabric of his pants, clutching at the linen in a tight fist.

you felt something hard pressing against your knuckles, eyes sliding over to take in the swollen bulge in his pants.

with a little whimper, you brushed over it mindlessly, and John hissed at the touch, sliding his hand out your mouth and back around your throat, pushing your head firmly back down to the table.

“s’off limits, darlin’,” he reminded you, breathlessly, though you didn’t miss the way his grinded his hips into your palm.

you distantly remember the contract outlining something about not touching the masseurs in return—that it was a strictly single avenue for pleasure.

but knowing it was forbidden somehow made it so much better.

“wanna suck you off,” you whispered softly, blindly pawing at the waistband of his pants, and he practically growled, hand tightening around your neck.

“hungry, are you?” he pressed a thumb into your mouth and you sucked it in eagerly, humming, shuddering when his fingers curled into that sweet spot inside you.

breath stolen somewhere far away, you ground your hips into every curl of his fingers, eyelids drooping even though you fought them to stay awake. in the meantime, his hand retreated from your throat, disappearing somewhere off the table. then, your head was being turned, and you were dizzily faced with the leaking head of his thick cock almost brushing against the tip of your nose.

you hummed, immediately craning your neck forward to brush your lips, slick with spit, over the head of his cock, then beneath it, lips ghosting in little kisses at his frenulum, and you wholly enjoyed the way that he shivered.

“c’mon, pretty,�� he coaxed, firmly grabbing a fistful of your hair. “suck me off with that cute little throat.”

dropping your jaw open, tongue out in an offering, he immediately slid down your throat, and you moaned around him, letting him press all the way down to the hilt in one go.

“good girl, you can take it, you will take it, ” he rasped, sounding almost pained as he ground the thick tip against the soft skin at the very back of your throat. when you choked, throat seizing hard around him, he let out a low groan and pulled his hips back so that the very tip of him rested against your lips. for a moment, you struggled for breath, torn between the way he was massaging your g-spot perfectly and the drooling cock waiting for the heat of your mouth right in front of your face.

“more,” you whined, throat already strained from abuse, craning forward to wrap your lips around the tip and suckling so that his hips jerked forward into your mouth.

he pressed the side of your head firmly down into the table so that you were immobilized—so that he could rut his hips smoothly into your hot and tight mouth like it was his own personal cocksleeve, and just the thought of it had your clit twitching, cunt spasming because you were getting dangerously close.

“close?” he grunted, and you hummed weakly around him, sucking as best as you could when mind-numbing waves of pleasure threatened to overtake you with every curl of his fingers.

before you could protest, he pulled out of your mouth and released your head against the table. by the time you were picking up your head to peer at him, he was already kneeling at the edge of the table, curling two arms around your thighs to pull you closer to his waiting mouth.

then, his tongue was on your clit, making out with your pussy in ways that made your back arch up off the table.

“John!” you gasped, curling your legs around his head so that you could keep him flush to your cunt.

in a hazy, distant part of your mind, you were faintly aware that the contract said nothing about eating out but—

“s’not allowed,” you reminded him between breathy moans, words sluggish and blurred together.

he just hummed, dark blue eyes flickering up to you with almost a sinister smile on his lips as his tongue swirled around your clit. “only for special customers.”

you choked on a moan, letting your head fall back as one hand twisted in your own hair, the other in John’s, tugging just to keep a grip on reality as he worked you through a mind-numbing orgasm that had you seeing pure white before you were crashing back down, hyper sensitive when his lips were still glued to your cunt.

jolting against the table, you shook with sobs as he pleasured to your last trembling high, suckling in your clit one last time before he leaned back, beard and chin glistening with your slick.

between wracking pants, your eyes betrayed you, sliding shut as you sank into the massage table, falling completely boneless.

“ma’am?” his voice was husky with use as he wrapped a hand gently around your ankle before releasing.

forcing your eyes open, you were blessed with the sight of him unbuttoning the front of his shirt, exposing the tone of his torso and the dark thatch of hair near his naval. then, your eyes dropped to his flushed, neglected cock between his thighs, looking so very painful and thick and suckable.

humming, you swung up on the table and slid to your knees on the floor, crawling towards him till you were nestled between his shoes.

you looked up at him, heels pressed against your ass and neck craning back to meet his debauched gaze, cracked wide open with want and need. then, you licked your lips, giving him a good show as you wrapped a hand innocently around his cock, giving it a little tug, satisfied from the way it twitched in your touch.

“how many customers have done this for you?” you asked, shy as you eyed the pearly beads of precum that slid off his tip and onto your waiting tits. he cursed in a throaty, low tone.

“few,” he admitted, nudging his hips forward so the head of his cock brushed against your lips.

your eyes fluttered up to him again. “please fuck my throat, sir.”

“fuck,” he curse, thick and dark as he crept a hand into your hair and pulled taught so that your head was pulled back, the underside of his cock against your plush cheek.

“m’gonna ruin you darlin’,” he whispered, a threat and a promise that you eagerly took as he guided his cock into your waiting mouth, poised and wide open for him.

im ngl i didnt really know how to end this one bc im not sure how much i like how i wrote this ff and it was going on for too long and alfjslirjfsij (i do already have ideas for a part 2 if anyone is interested in more masseur!John because the concept certainly intrigues me... 🌚)

taglist: @ivybeeloved @keiva1000

#captain john price #john price #john price fluff #john price smut #john price x reader #john price x you #captain price smut #captain price x reader #captain price #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic

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