#and then he completely ruins you and has you calling him daddy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shadowkoo · 2 months ago

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Visiting Hours

→ Summary: In the dimly lit conjugal room, Yeonjun finally has you. You’re soft, warm, and completely at his mercy. A year of pent-up hunger has festered into something darker, something filthier, a craving that only you can satisfy. Shackled by time, he intends to make every second count, to lose himself in the heat of your body, the sweetness of your surrender. Nothing else exists, just you. Every sigh, every moan, every blissful moment is his to claim. And when you unveil the sinful surprise he craves, nothing will stop him from devouring what’s his.

↠ yeonjun x f.reader | 3.1k words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, pwp, prisoner au, established relationship

→ Warnings: swearing, really brief mention of murder at the beginning, unprotected sex, period sex, blood play, blood kink, pain kink, scratching, marking, hair pulling, breath play, choking, size kink, cockwarming, creampie, begging, semi-public conjugal visit / fucking with guards standing watch outside the door, nipple play & biting, also biting in general, panty sniffing, yeonjun likes to say the filthiest fucking things but also calls you princess and babygirl, daddy kink, needy!yeonjun, desperate!yeonjun, possessive!yeonjun (you’re welcome)

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→ Author Note: thanks to sevń @aaagustd for helping me come up with the title for this! this idea was haunting me until i brought it to life. i hope y’all enjoy it! this isn't edited so if there are mistakes...don't tell me LOL as usual, all likes, reblogs, & comments are much appreciated! this has been crossposted on ao3 here if you prefer to read there :)

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Two guards cuff Yeonjun’s hands behind his back, the metal cold against his skin. It’s a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his aching body. His pulse increases with each step, adrenaline seeping into his bloodstream like a drug. A volatile mix of electricity and something darker.

As they march him out of general population, two more guards fall in step behind Yeonjun, just in case he misbehaves. It’s a bit overkill. Then again, maybe not. He did slit a few people’s necks to land himself here. But honestly? He could probably take the guards; at the very least he’d get a few solid hits in before they tasered him.

Not that he’s stupid enough to try it. Not today.

They stop outside the conjugal visit room, affectionately dubbed the ‘Pound Pen’ by all inmates who’ve been granted access.

“I’m going to uncuff you now, Yeonjun. If you even think about doing something dumb, you won’t even get to look at that fine piece of ass waiting on the other side of this door. Understood?”

His jaw tightens. He hates the way they talk about you like you’re just another perk of good behavior. He considers slamming his knee into the smug guard’s balls, but that would be stupid. Really stupid, especially after three months of playing nice and kissing ass just for this moment.

It’s his first conjugal visit since getting sentenced. Over a year since he’s been inside you. And if he’s being honest? He’s fucking desperate.

Yeonjun gets one hour with you, and he plans to spend every second buried deep inside you, making up for lost time. His body is already thrumming with anticipation, every muscle coiled tight, every thought consumed by the need to touch you, taste you, ruin you.

The guards uncuff him, their rough hands roaming over his body in a thorough search, pressing into his ribs, sliding down his legs, patting every possible hiding place. He stands still, barely tolerating the routine violation, his jaw clenched, his patience razor-thin.

Satisfied, they step back. One of them cracks open the heavy metal door, and finally, his eyes land on you. The sight alone sends a fresh surge of heat through his veins, hunger tightening in his gut. It’s been too long.

You stand in the center of the small, lifeless room. Yet, you make it feel brighter, somehow softer. Dressed in a light green dress and a cream-colored knit cardigan, you look effortlessly beautiful. But as breathtaking as you are, his eyes settle on the one thing that means more than anything else.

The diamond ring sparkling next to the wedding band on your finger.

His favorite thing you’ll ever wear. His proof that despite the walls, the distance, and the time stolen from you both—you’re still his. Always his.

The room is probably similar in size to his cell; the walls are bare except for years of grime, faded stains, and the inevitable wear and tear of too many conjugal encounters. And the air is stale, tinged with bleach and something less pleasant, but none of that matters. Not when you’re here.

A twin-sized bed sits against the wall, a set of clean sheets hastily thrown over the thin mattress. But Yeonjun wouldn’t let your body touch that thing if his life depended on it. You’re too pure for that.

The guards linger just long enough to remind him they exist. One steps in after him, pointing out the panic button on the wall to you. As if you’d ever need it. As if you’d ever want this to end early.

They exit shortly after, but Yeonjun knows at least one, maybe two, are stationed just outside the door. It doesn’t matter. The moment they step out, the second that locks clicks into place, he’s on you.

You barely have time to breathe before he’s pulling you into his arms, his body radiating heat, his grip firm.

“Hi, baby,” you whisper, your breath warm against his skin, teasing, inviting. “Long time, no see… or touch.”

A low, guttural sound rumbles from his chest. “I’ve fucking missed you,” he groans, his voice thick with hunger, roughened by restraint.

Yeonjun’s lips crash onto yours, desperate and claiming, making up for all the lost time. He swallows the gasp that slips from your mouth, his body reacting to the mewls that follow. Every sweet sound and trail of your fingernails across his scalp has his cock twitching, it weeps for your attention.

His hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him like he needs to feel every inch of you to believe this is real. His tongue parts your lips, pushing inside, tasting you.

How the hell did he survive a year without this? Without you?

Your lips trail along his sharp jawline, pressing soft, teasing kisses down the column of his neck. Each touch sends a ripple of heat through him as he debates what’s the lesser evil.

Pinning you against the grimy wall, where years of sweat and filth linger, or letting your body anywhere near the well-used mattress? Either way, this room is a damn disgrace. They could’ve at least thrown a damn chair in here.

Fuck it.

With a low growl, he moves, dropping onto the edge of the bed, his grip firm as he pulls you onto his lap. His hands waste no time, roaming over your body, fingers pressing into your skin like he’s making sure you’re really here. Really his.

“Princess, I’m sorry about all of this,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need as your hips grind against his, your knees planted on either side of his waist. His fingers dig into your thighs, holding you close, but his gaze flickers with something almost regretful.

“You deserve a night in a penthouse suite,” he continues, his breath warm against your lips, “spread out on silk sheets, worshipped properly in a king-sized bed. A bubble bath after. Room service. Just like our honeymoon.” His jaw tightens as he glances around the dingy room, his grip on you tightening. “Not a rushed, one-hour fuck in a room that’s already seen too many couples today.”

But as his hands slide up your back, pulling you impossibly closer, his lips brushing against yours, his voice drops to something darker, hungrier. “Still,” he rasps, “I’m gonna make every damn second count.”

Little does he know, the universe has handed you the perfect surprise. Not that you planned it, but fate seems to be on your side today. Your period started earlier, and if there’s one thing that drives him wild, it’s period sex and the raw, primal mess that comes with it.

“I have a surprise for you,” you purr, watching his hands slide up your thighs, hiking your dress higher and higher. The second his eyes land on the familiar logo on your panties, a brand you only wear during one particular week, his breath catches.

Desire flares in his gaze, dark and hungry.

“Are you happy?” you tease, voice dripping with amusement.

He exhales sharply, pupils blown wide as his fingers trace the waistband of your panties.

“Absolutely euphoric, baby girl.”

He rips off his shirt in one swift motion, tossing it beside him. Then, with a care that contradicts the raw hunger in his eyes, he helps you slip out of your panties, his fingers trailing down your thighs as he peels the fabric away.

But instead of discarding them immediately, he brings them to his face, inhaling deeply. The rich, metallic scent floods his senses, making his pupils dilate, his cock twitching in his pants. A low groan rumbles from his chest, primal and needy.

“Fuck,” he exhales, his voice rough. “You smell so damn good.”

His gaze snaps to yours, “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

He tosses your panties onto his shirt, trying his best to keep them as far away from the filth of the room as he can. Even in his desperation, he refuses to let anything dirty touch what belongs to him.

Yeonjun reaches for you again. “I’m gonna ruin you,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over yours. “And you’re gonna let me.”

His words send a wave of heat straight to your core, your body reacting instantly to the dark promise in his voice. A shiver rolls down your spine, anticipation coiling tight in your stomach as you press down hard against his thickening length below you, desperate for friction.

He notices. Of course, he does.

A wicked smirk tugs at his lips as his hands find your hips, gripping them firmly. "Look at you," he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Already so needy for me."

His fingers trail down, teasing along your inner thigh, just close enough to drive you insane but not enough to satisfy. He watches you squirm, drinking in every shaky breath, every flicker of desperation in your eyes.

"Tell me, baby," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "How badly do you want me?"

“So fucking bad, daddy.” Your hands move down his tattooed chest, trailing the inky design down until you slip past his waistband, finding his thick length. You stroke him just the way he likes, teasing the sensitive spot just beneath his throbbing head. His breath stutters, hips twitching into your touch.

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice strained, desperate. “I’ve missed your touch.”

One of his hands dips between your bodies, fingers brushing through your slick folds before pushing inside, stretching you open. His forehead presses against yours, his lips brushing over yours as he breathes you in.

“But I’ve missed touching you even more.”

His fingers curl inside you, finding and pressing against that perfect spot that has those naughty little moans spilling past your lips.

Your mouths collide again in a feverish kiss full of hunger, a clash of need and longing. It’s as if you’re both trying to devour each other like this could be your last time.

When he finally pulls his fingers from your heat, he brings them up between you, admiring the deep red staining his skin. His tongue flicks out, tasting you for just a second before his other hand wraps around his cock, spreading your slick and blood along his length as he strokes himself.

“Mmm, you have no idea how fucking beautiful you are like this,” he hums, his voice thick with lust as his wild eyes rake over your body.

With his clean hand, he grips the front of your dress, yanking it down in one swift motion. Your full, perfect breasts spill free, just like he’s imagined in every lonely, agonizing night without you. The sight alone makes his cock throb in his other hand, the sheer reality of you nearly overwhelming after so long.

He guides himself to your entrance, rubbing his swollen, aching tip through your slick folds and coating himself in your arousal. But instead of pushing in, he pulls back, watching with a deep, guttural groan as your blood dribbles down his shaft, staining him in the most sinful way. The sight sends a sharp jolt of pleasure straight to his cock, making him twitch against you.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, dragging down his back in long, red streaks, marking him just as much as he’s about to mark you. Your hips push forward, desperate for more, for him.

“Quit teasing me,” you whine, your voice breathy, wrecked with need. “I need it so bad.”

Yeonjun grins, dark and devious, his grip tightening on your hips as he lines himself up again.

“Oh, princess,” he purrs, his voice dripping with filth as he thrusts himself into you, “You’ll always get what you ask for.”

He tightens his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest as his lips move against yours in a slow, intoxicating rhythm. Meanwhile, his hands roam your body possessively, fingers tracing the curve of your spine before one hand tangles into your hair.

With a sharp tug, he yanks your head back, exposing the delicate column of your throat to him. A shudder rolls through you as your back arches, pushing your breasts out and offering them like a feast for Yeonjun to devour.

A low growl rumbles in his chest as he dips his head, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. His tongue flicks over your pulse before he bites down just enough to make you gasp. He soothes the sting with his tongue before moving lower, capturing one of your pebbled nipples between his lips, sucking and nipping until you’re trembling in his arms.

“Damn, baby girl, I can feel your blood dripping onto my thighs,” he groans, his grip tightening on your hips as he rocks you against him, slow and deliberate. His touch is controlling yet he savors every second of sinking into you as his hips arch up to meet yours, of feeling you stretch around him. He wants to take his time, to make love to you before completely unraveling. Before fucking the life out of you.

“You were made for me,” he rasps, his head falling back as he watches the way your body takes him so perfectly.

But the slow drag of pleasure soon turns into unbearable need. His patience snaps.

With a low growl, Yeonjun stands abruptly, keeping you wrapped around him as he presses you hard against the wall. The cool surface contrasts with the heat radiating off your bodies, sending a delicious shiver through you. His hands slide down between you, fingers dipping into your slick folds, collecting the mixture of arousal and deep crimson spread around your inner thighs.

A shudder runs through him as he brings his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean, groaning at the taste of you. “Shit, I’ll never get enough of fucking this tight little cunt of yours.”

Then, restraint gone, he grips your ass and slams into you, leaving bloody handprints smeared against the wall as he fucks you with reckless abandon. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes in the small room, each thrust deeper, harder, desperate to claim you completely. To remind you that he’s worth waiting for.

You can see your lower stomach bulging slightly with each deep, brutal thrust of his cock stretching you open. The way he fills you so completely, claiming every inch of you, has you trembling in his grasp.

“F-fuck,” you cry out, your brows furrowing, eyes rolling back as pleasure crashes through you like a tidal wave. It’s too much, the intensity of him, the way he owns your body so effortlessly.

Yeonjun hisses sharply, the sound low and guttural, vibrating deep in his chest. The thought of the guards outside hearing every sinful moan, every filthy sound echoing off these walls barely even registers in his mind.

Let them listen. Let them know exactly how good he’s making you feel. Right now, the only thing on his mind is you—the way your body clings to him, the way you tremble beneath his touch, completely and utterly his.

Your nails rake down his back, leaving angry red lines in their wake, but even that isn’t enough to ground you. Overwhelmed, desperate to hold on to something, you sink your teeth into his shoulder, biting down hard to muffle the broken cries spilling from your lips.

His hips stutter just for a moment before a dark chuckle rumbles from his chest. His grip on you tightens, his hands flexing on your ass as he pulls you impossibly closer.

“Oh, baby,” he rasps, his voice dripping with hunger and amusement. “You really do want to be ruined, don’t you?”

Before you can even gasp, his forearm presses firmly against your throat, pinning you against the cold wall. The pressure is intoxicating, just enough to steal your breath, to send your mind floating into a hazy abyss where nothing exists except him. The lack of air sharpens every sensation, making your body hypersensitive to his every touch.

His free hand snakes between you, fingertips gliding through the slick mess between your thighs before finding your swollen clit. A wicked grin tugs at his lips as he pinches the bundle of nerves, dangerously rolling it between his fingers. The sudden jolt of pleasure mixed with the delicious restriction at your throat sends a violent shudder through you.

Your walls flutter around him, gripping his cock like a vice, your body teetering on the edge of oblivion. The euphoric rush of oxygen deprivation mixed with his relentless touch turns your pleasure into something almost unbearable, so intense it borders on pain.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groans, his grip tightening just slightly. “You love this, don’t you princess? Being completely at my mercy? Come for me. I know you're close. Be a good little slut and come violently all over me.”

Your orgasm slams into you like a freight train, stars burst behind your eyelids as your body locks up. You can’t breathe, can’t think, only feel as he pounds into you with reckless abandon, groaning at the way you squeeze him so tightly.

“Fuck, look at you,” he growls, watching your face contort in pleasure, his free hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. “You’re so fucking perfect when you come for me.”

Yeonjun isn’t far behind you. The way your body clenches around him, milking every inch of his cock, sends him spiraling into his own release. His abs tighten, muscles flexing as a deep, guttural moan rips from his throat. His grip on you turns bruising as he buries himself to the hilt, his milky seed spilling deep inside you in thick, hot ropes.

But he doesn’t move—not yet. He stays seated inside you, basking in the raw, electric aftermath, his forehead pressed against yours as he catches his breath. His lips find yours again, soft and lazy now, his tongue teasing past your lips in a slow, intoxicating dance.

With a satisfied hum, he shifts, keeping himself buried in your heat as he lifts you effortlessly, guiding you back toward the bed. His movements are fluid and controlled, like he owns your body, like you were made to fit against him like this.

He sits down, pulling you onto his lap, never breaking the kiss. A shiver rolls through you as his cock twitches inside you, still hard, still needy. You gasp at the sensation, your body instinctively clenching around him, a small whimper escaping your lips when the slightest accidental brush of his pelvis sends a spark of overstimulation straight to your core.

Yeonjun grins against your lips, his hands running up your back, savoring the way you tremble against him. His eyes flick up to the clock on the wall, amusement dancing in his dark gaze.

“Perfect,” he murmurs, tilting his head slightly, his fingers ghosting over your hips. His grin turns wicked as he rolls his hips up, making you gasp.

“There’s still enough time for round two.”

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colourfulbisexualities · 2 months ago

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SUGAR AND SPICE ; aaron hotchner x female sugar baby reader

you’ve always had expensive tastes, and aaron hotchner has always been more than willing to indulge you, but only if you earn it. tonight, teasing him all day has its consequences, and you find yourself completely at his mercy, lost in the way he touches, fills, and ruins you.

Aaron has always been a man of control, someone who demands respect the moment he walks into a room. He’s powerful, untouchable, except when it comes to you. With you, he softens, in his own way. Maybe that’s why he spoils you the way he does, draping you in the finest things money can buy.

It started as an arrangement: your dad’s best friend offering to take care of you after watching you struggle through college, watching you date boys who didn’t deserve you. It didn’t take long for things to shift, for those lingering looks to turn into stolen touches, for him to claim you as his in every way that mattered.

Now, you live for these moments. The nights where he calls you to his penthouse after a long day, when he lets you crawl into his lap and whine about how much you missed him. You’ve been teasing him all day, sending him photos of you in nothing but the lace lingerie he bought you last week.

His favourite set: deep red, barely-there lace that barely covers anything at all. And from the moment you walked in tonight, you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his dark eyes raked over you like he was barely holding himself back.

He sits on the edge of the bed now, legs spread, watching you with that unreadable expression, his tie loosened, his sleeves rolled up. Between his fingers, he twirls the delicate bracelet you’ve been eyeing for weeks—white gold, expensive, exactly your taste.

"You want it, don’t you?" His voice is smooth, knowing. He already has his answer.

You nod, biting your lip, playing innocent, but you both know the truth. You’re soaked, thighs pressed together, your body already reacting to just the way he looks at you. He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

"And what do we say when we want something, sweetheart?"

You shift closer, crawling onto the bed, your hands resting on his thighs as you blink up at him. You know exactly how he likes it when you beg.

"Please, Daddy." Your voice is breathy, desperate.

Aaron hums in approval, letting his fingers trail along your jaw before tilting your chin up. His touch is firm, commanding, forcing your gaze to stay on his.

"That’s my good girl," he murmurs. "Then earn it."

He leans back slightly, unbuckling his belt with slow, deliberate movements, like he wants to make you suffer for teasing him all day. The leather slides through the loops with a sharp, sinful sound that makes your stomach clench. When he pops the button of his slacks, the outline of his cock is thick and heavy against his boxer briefs, already hard for you.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him, at the way his cock strains against the fabric of his boxer briefs. Thick, heavy, already hard for you. You can see the outline of him clearly: the broad, flushed head, the way his length twitches slightly when you reach for him.

Aaron watches you with dark, expectant eyes, his lips pressed together in that firm, unreadable expression, but you know better. You know he’s holding back, waiting to see just how desperate you are.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of his slacks, dragging them down his thighs, then do the same with his boxers, your nails grazing against his skin just to tease him. And fuck he’s gorgeous.

His cock springs free, long and thick, the tip already glistening with precum. The veins along his shaft are prominent, pulsing slightly as he exhales a slow breath. He’s so big, so perfect, and you shudder at the thought of having him in your mouth, your throat.

"Open," he commands, his voice low, rough.

You obey instantly, parting your lips as you lower yourself between his spread legs. Your tongue darts out, dragging along the length of his cock, slow and teasing. You feel him tense under your hands, his thighs flexing beneath your palms as you kitten-lick the head, swirling your tongue around the slit, tasting the saltiness of his precum.

"You like teasing, don’t you?" His voice is strained, but still in control.

You hum around him, the vibrations making him hiss through his teeth. But before he can grab your hair and force you to take him deeper, you do it on your own—sinking down, inch by inch, until he’s pressing against the back of your throat.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, his head falling back for just a moment before he looks down at you again, watching your lips stretch around him.

You bob your head slowly, setting a steady pace, your tongue pressed flat against the underside of his cock. Your hand wraps around the base, stroking what you can’t take in, your spit making it messy, filthy. You know he likes it this way - loves when you make a mess of him, loves when you let your mascara smudge as you take him even deeper, letting him feel the tight squeeze of your throat.

His fingers tangle in your hair, guiding you, controlling you the way he always does. His grip tightens when you hollow your cheeks, sucking harder, your nails digging into his thighs as he starts thrusting up into your mouth. His pace quickens, his breathing ragged, his control slipping.

"You’re so fucking good at this, sweetheart," he groans, his hips jerking slightly. "Always so eager for my cock, aren’t you?"

You moan around him, and that’s what sends him over the edge. His grip tightens, his body going rigid as he comes with a deep, guttural groan. Hot, thick spurts of cum coat your tongue, and you swallow it down greedily, not wasting a drop.

Aaron watches you with hooded eyes as you pull off of him, licking the corner of your lips. You bat your lashes up at him, already knowing what he’s going to say before the words even leave his mouth.

"Good girl," he praises, dragging his thumb along your jaw before tilting your chin up. "Now, let’s see if you’ve earned that bracelet."

You giggle, licking the last traces of him off your lips as you push at his chest, making him fall back against the mattress. Aaron lets you, watching you with that dark, hooded gaze, like he’s daring you to take what you want.

His tie is still loose, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to expose the firm muscles of his chest. He looks wrecked but still so in control, still the powerful man who always has you melting in his hands. But right now, you want to be the one in charge.

Crawling on top of him, you straddle his waist, your hands smoothing over his chest as you press soft kisses along his neck. You grind against him slowly, deliberately, letting the soaked lace of your panties drag along his cock. He groans at the feeling, his hands immediately gripping your hips, fingers digging into your skin.

"Fuck, baby," he murmurs, his voice rough, strained. "Look at you, making a mess on me already."

You whimper, rolling your hips again, the friction sending shivers down your spine. He’s still so hard, thick and heavy beneath you, and you need him. You need him stretching you open, filling you up the way only he can.

"Daddy, I want you," you whisper against his jaw, biting down just enough to make him exhale sharply. "I need you inside me."

His grip tightens, his fingers pressing bruises into your skin. "Then take me, sweetheart. Show me how much you want it."

Heart pounding, you sit up, reaching between your bodies to slide your panties to the side. You’re soaked, your slick coating the insides of your thighs, dripping onto his cock as you line him up with your entrance. He twitches against you, his hands moving to spread you open, his thumbs pressing into your hips as he watches, waiting.

You sink down slowly, your mouth falling open at the stretch, at the way he fills you so perfectly, splitting you open inch by inch. He’s so thick, so deep, and the burn only makes it better. Your walls flutter around him as you take him to the hilt, fully seated on his cock, your thighs shaking as you adjust to the overwhelming fullness.

"Jesus, baby," he groans, his head tilting back against the pillows, his jaw tight. "So fucking tight. Always so tight for me."

You whimper, rolling your hips, grinding against him, needing more. The pressure is intoxicating, the way his cock presses against that perfect spot inside you, making you clench around him. His hands move up, palming your tits through the lace of your bra before tugging at the cups, exposing your nipples to the cool air.

"Ride me, sweetheart," he commands, voice thick with lust. "Make yourself come on my cock."

You don’t need to be told twice. Bracing yourself against his chest, you lift your hips, dragging yourself up before sinking back down, setting a slow, torturous rhythm. His cock drags along your walls, hitting all the right spots, making you gasp. The friction is perfect, the way he fills you so deep making your toes curl.

"Fuck, Daddy," you moan, tossing your head back, your nails digging into his chest.

Aaron growls, gripping your hips, guiding you as you ride him. His own hips start to move, thrusting up into you, meeting every roll of your body with deep, punishing strokes.

The sound of skin slapping fills the room, mixed with your breathy moans and his rough groans. His eyes are locked onto you, watching the way you take him, the way your tits bounce with every movement.

"Look at you," he rasps, thrusting up harder, making you cry out. "Fucking yourself on my cock like a desperate little slut. You love this, don��t you?"

You nod frantically, barely able to form words, too lost in the pleasure, the way he stretches you so perfectly, the way the head of his cock kisses your cervix with every deep thrust. The coil in your stomach tightens, pleasure coiling through you like fire, your thighs trembling as you chase your release.

"Daddy, I’m gonnafuck, I’m gonna come," you sob, grinding down, desperate for more.

"Come for me, baby," he growls, his grip tightening as he fucks up into you even harder. "Show Daddy how good you feel."

With a broken cry, you shatter, your orgasm ripping through you in waves so intense that your vision blurs. Your walls clench around him, pulsing, milking his cock as you tremble in his arms. The pleasure is overwhelming, consuming, leaving you breathless.

Aaron groans, his control snapping as he grips your hips and slams you down onto him one last time. His cock throbs inside you, and then he’s coming, thick ropes of cum spilling deep inside you, filling you up. He curses under his breath, his fingers bruising your skin as he holds you there, buried to the hilt, letting you feel every pulse of his release.

Your body is still trembling, thighs slick with both of your releases, but Aaron isn’t done with you yet. You can feel it in the way he grips your hips, in the way his cock still twitches inside you, still hard, still needy.

"You think we’re finished, baby?" His voice is low, rough, dripping with amusement. "That pretty little cunt of yours is still squeezing me."

A whimper escapes your lips as he flips you onto your stomach, his strong hands pressing you into the mattress, pinning you down beneath him. He’s bigger, stronger, completely in control, and fuck, you love it.

"On your knees. Ass up."

You obey without hesitation, arching your back as you push yourself onto all fours. Your breath hitches as he spreads you open, his thumbs pressing into the curve of your ass, exposing your messy, swollen pussy still dripping with his cum.

"Look at this," he groans, rubbing his cock along your slit, smearing his release over your folds. "So fucking wet. So full of me."

You whimper, pushing back against him, desperate for more. But he doesn’t give you what you want right away. Instead, his palm suddenly cracks against your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp.

"Daddy!" you yelp, jolting forward, but his grip is unforgiving, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

"That’s for being a needy little tease all day," he growls, spanking you again, harder this time. Your skin burns, the pain melting into pleasure, making your walls flutter around nothing. "You think you can send me those pictures and not pay for it?"

"I—I wanted your attention," you admit breathlessly, pressing your face into the pillows, rocking your hips back in silent desperation.

Aaron chuckles darkly. "Oh, sweetheart, you have my fucking attention."

Without warning, he thrusts into you in one deep, brutal stroke, burying himself to the hilt. A broken moan rips from your throat as he stretches you open all over again, the fullness almost too much after already being fucked senseless. He doesn’t give you time to adjust—he just starts pounding into you, ruthless and unrelenting.

The sound of skin slapping fills the room, mixed with your muffled moans and his ragged breathing. His cock is so deep, dragging against your walls with every brutal thrust, hitting your cervix in a way that’s both painful and delicious. You’re shaking, your fingers gripping the sheets as he fucks you like he owns you. Because he does.

"Daddy—fuck, Daddy!" you sob, your voice high-pitched and desperate.

Aaron growls at the sound, his hand snaking up to your mouth, two fingers pressing against your lips. "Open."

You obey instantly, parting your lips, letting him shove his fingers into your mouth, gagging you slightly. Your moans turn into muffled whimpers as he presses down on your tongue, making you drool around him.

"So fucking noisy," he mutters, tightening his grip on your jaw. "All you ever do is beg for my cock, isn’t that right?"

You nod frantically, eyes rolling back as he fucks into you even harder, his pace brutal, unforgiving. The pressure is unbearable, overwhelming, that coil in your stomach twisting tighter and tighter. Every thrust makes your clit drag against the sheets, the friction making it even more intense.

Aaron pulls his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop, then grips the back of your neck, forcing your face down into the mattress. "Come for me," he growls. "Make a mess all over my cock."

You don’t stand a chance. The orgasm crashes into you with devastating force, your entire body locking up as you clench around him, convulsing with pleasure so intense it borders on painful. You sob his name, your cries muffled by the sheets, your thighs shaking violently as you gush around him.

"Fuck, that’s it," Aaron groans, his grip on your hips turning bruising as he slams into you one last time. His cock throbs deep inside you before he spills inside you again, filling you to the brim with his hot, sticky release. He doesn’t pull out right away, just grinds his hips against you, letting you feel every last drop, making sure it stays inside.

For a long moment, all you can hear is the sound of your ragged breathing, the both of you completely wrecked. Then, Aaron leans down, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the back of your shoulder before murmuring against your skin, "You’ve definitely earned that bracelet, sweetheart."

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nanamisonholiday · 1 year ago

Note

I’m going to need more of dads bff nanami 😮‍💨 But this time he can’t resist himself 👀

You ask you recieve. dbf!Nanami is a dreamboat

here's a link to a previous dbf!Nanami fic

SHMUT

Lewd noises fill the bedroom as skin on skin slaps together, wetness pooling between them at every thrust of his hips. He swears he’s in heaven. All the waiting- it was worth it, all the lingering touches and glances, it was worth it. His hand covers your throat gently- his grip filled with love and care as his cock bullies its way into your heat. His plush lips kissing your temple as if your warm velvety insides weren’t gripping him with your weak mustered up strength. A lazy smile graces your pretty face making him lean closer to you like a moth to the flame. Truth spilling out of him with each thrust

“Y’look so fuck-ing beautiful baby”

Your scrunched up face in pleasure cries from his nonstop assault on your sensitve pussy- hand splayed on his stomach as a way to get him to slow down, even though deep- deep down you don’t want him too, not at all.

“S’big Kenny, so bigg- fuck”

Both eyes widen at the knock on the door- hearing your father call out

“Nanami have you seen my little girl around? It’s her turn to cut the cake this year”

Shit

Nanami doesn’t stop, he hasn't got the willpower to behave- not when he’s buried balls deep with your cum coating his balls. Instead he covers your mouth harshly only to pound slowly and deeply- a way to lower the noise to keep your father at bay

“No can’t say I have Geto- I’ll come help look in a minute”

There’s silence as if your father is contemplating his next move- Nanamis at a point of no return if your father decides to walk in to see his best friend doing the unthinkable to his sweet sweet daughter- folded like a pretzel getting fucked by none other than gentleman respectable Nanami. You whine at the added pressure in your tummy- tears in your eyes as Nanami glares at you, clamping his fingers harder into your cheeks- fuck you hope he leaves a mark. Toes helplessly curling as the coil snaps. You're surprised your father hasn’t stepped in out of curiosity of the odd behaviour of his friend or the strange noise coming from the room, but you suppose he’s more worried about your whereabouts.

“Alright, let me know if you see her”

You suck in a breathe as Nanami leans back, kissing your aching legs relentlessly fucking into you- an uncharacteristic smirk on his lips has your tummy summersaulting with butterflies. You desperately want to kiss that shit eating grin off.

“Will do”

And with that your fathers footsteps are long forgotten as Nanami ups the pace to ruin you completely

“Y’mine baby, all mine yeah?”

“Yes daddy”

Daddy

Nanami should feel some shame, a tiny bit of embarrassment at how hard it is for him to hold back a low groan when he hears you squeal out that god forbidden name, Espeically since he's no longer buried deep within in your warm wet cunt, but instead he's sat calmly in your garden amongst friends. amogst your family.

“Daddy put me down!”

Nanami keep his eyes trained on your revealed rump and that bewitching wet patch glaring at him within your panties. He knows they're cumstained and ruined, yet he swells with dirty pride knowing you eagerly put them back on to join your friends and family back downstairs. He's not the only once who's noticed, but so are the group of men he is sat with. Gojo smirks at the sight all while he has to adjust himself- whilst Toji low whistles. Not enough for Geto to hear, but enough for the group of men to know what their focus is on.

A deep voice interjecting their perverse thoughts- but really he's only voicing what they're thinking

“Whoever the lucky fucker is- must say, y’got some balls to do that with him around”

Gojo snickers at the implication, nothing does make him happier than seeing a dear friend like Kento Nanami shift in discomfort. Side eyeing said mans stiff shoulders at Sukunas words makes him grin from ear to ear- deciding it’s best to move on from the conversation as Geto approaches them. He may enjoy teasing Nanami, but now would not be the time to reveal secrets. Instead he opts for a small quip as he rises from his chair

“Lucky fucker indeed”

Geto smiles and waves as he walks towards them, breathless from playing around with his little family. His sweet little girl- if only he knew what all his friends were really talking about, what sloppily laid in your cotton underwear-it would wipe that smile off his face.

“What’d I miss?”

Nanami speaks before anyone has the right idea to snicker innuendos or inapropriate comments; as if he hadn't just fucked you ten minutes prior

“Oh nothing”

yoink- enjoy you thristy fucker

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verhanz · 29 days ago

Text

❝ [kitten] ❞

↳ “wonwoo gets a little drunk and suddenly he’s all over you”

↳ jeon wonwoo x male reader

↳ smut, 14th member au, implied poly!ot13xreader, top!reader, bottom!wonwoo, reader is younger than ww (98 liner), daddy kink, pet play (kinda—ww is called kitten), lowk size kink, size queen wonwoo

↳ set during nana tour bc this wonwoo makes me feral

the staff had you all in the main rooms of the airbnb, trying to accomplish your missions while also preventing the others from completing theirs.

you had finished your mission a few minutes ago and you’re now sitting at the dining room table, watching mingyu struggle to make his meringue.

“hyung— you want help?” you ask the older boy who was struggling to complete his mission since the other members were trying their hardest to disrupt him.

“y/n! help me~!!” mingyu’s whiny voice and puppy eyes make you fold and you stand up from the table, going to help the older man.

“what do you want me to do?” you ask, your hand rubbing his back gently.

“just fight the others off please.. they keep taking my bowl or putting water in it or—“ mingyu whines, whisking the mixture aggressively to try and complete the task before one of the members comes in and takes it from him.

“okay hyung. i’ll protect you.” you say with a chuckle, knowing that mingyu always wants you to help him since you’re the only member bigger and taller than him.

you just sit and watch him whisk the ingredients together thoroughly until jeonghan comes skipping into the room. you watch the second oldest member go straight towards mingyu but you grab him before he can get that far.

“jeonghannie hyung… what are you doing?” you say in a mock-scolding manner, knowing the older boy would pout and throw a tantrum.

“heyyyy~” he whines while pouting at you, trying to get out of your strong grip but he’s too weak to do so, “let me go! i wanna take mingyu out of the competition!”

“no. you’re gonna stay right here with me.” your voice is teasing as you carry the older man to the table and hold him in your lap, “ isn’t this nice hannie?”

“no! let me go! i already failed my mission! just let me mess up gyu!!!” he whines and thrashes on your lap, trying to get away.

“you failed? then why are you trying so hard to mess everyone else up?” you say genuinely, not letting him get up, “maybe if you weren’t so adamant on ruining everyone else’s chances of winning they might split the prize with you~”

“but— wait, really?” jeonghan looks up at you with big eyes and a slight pout still on his face, “i want money too!”

“and i’ll give you some if you stop being such a menace.”

“okay okay i’ll stop y/n-ie. i’ll go shower, i promise. let me go.” you can tell jeonghan is genuine when he speaks now, so you let him go and watch him scurry away to his room.

“mingyu-ah? you good?” you call into the kitchen where you see mingyu crouched down still whisking.

“mhm. almost done.” he responds quietly so no one else will come to him.

then you see wonwoo come into the dining room, only he doesn’t look like normal wonwoo; something’s up with him.

“wonwoo-hyung, you good?” you say with a little grin, watching how he sways slightly every time he takes a step.

“wha— huh?” he asks, coming to stand right in front of you.

“what happened to you, hyung? are you drunk?” you can smell wine wafting off of him.

“my mission..” he mutters, falling into your arms knowing you’d catch him. “i.. drink wine—“

“how much?”

“whole bottle.” wonwoo starts wrapping his limbs around you like a monkey, he’s always been clingy when he’s drunk—especially with you.

“you drank a whole bottle of wine?! that’s what mission the staff gave you?” your tone was a little concerned at this point, knowing your hyung has trouble with alcohol sometimes and that amount is not good for him.

“mhm.. not yummy.. really big..” his words are slurred, but his body language is inviting. he subtly tries to grind himself on you.

“what are you doing hyung?” your first question is slightly loud but your voice gets much quieter after, “hyung stop, we’re filming.” your tone is sharp, leaving no room for him to fight back.

“but i wan’ you, y/n.. n ‘m not hyung! ‘m kitty.” now he has a deep set pout on his face, his voice sounds similar to one of a sleepy kid.

“you’re kitty? why don’t we get you to bed, huh? the missions are almost done, you can go to sleep early, bud—“ you propose but wonwoo cuts you off.

“nuhuh! wanna play wif you—“ his voice and behavior is very different from the normal wonwoo you know, which is slightly concerning but also adorable.

“okay, we can ‘play’.. what do you wanna do, won?”

“play kitty n daddy” he lights up at his own idea and starts moving against you again.

“what’s that? should we go to your room?” wonwoo nods and tries to stand up, pulling you with him. “mingyu-ah! i have to go— get shua hyung or someone to help you!”

mingyu just whines and tries to keep mixing his meringue. “ughhhhh fine-“

“come onnnnn~” wonwoo whines and pulls you along, past the cameras and staff to his room

“wonwoo can you please explain this game to me—“ you try to talk, still a little confused about what he wants you to do with him

“y‘re daddy n ‘m the kitty.. we play together” he looks at you and gives you big pretty eyes, which no matter the member always make you fold—you’re a sucker for pretty boys.

“okay.. so how do we play, kitten?” you close and lock the door to his room, where he immediately goes to the bed and starts trying to pull your clothes off. you let him, knowing he won’t take rejection well in his drunken state.

“daddy sits on the bed and kitty sits on daddy!!” he says in an animated manner, quite a stark contrast to his usual quiet demeanor. this makes you laugh a bit.

“you want to sit on me baby? how come?” he has pushed you to sit on the bed, completely naked and pulls his own clothes off—sitting on your lap with his back to your chest.

“look in the mirror, dadddyy~ kitty is so smalllll~” he giggles like an overly excited child which makes you soften again, even though you know you’re going to be wrecking this cutie’s hole very, very soon.

↳ lol i literally couldn’t think of how to write the smut so lmk if i should finish this and pls give ideas on what to do. also give me requests 😓

#seventeen #seventeen smut #seventeen x male reader #seventeen 14th member #sub!seventeen #sub!wonwoo #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #svt #seventeen x reader

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absurdthirst · 3 months ago

Text

The Woman He Needs {Dave York x Plus Sized!F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.7k

Warnings: Infidelity, dom/sub dynamic, unbalanced power dynamic, sugar baby/daddy-ish arrangement, body image issues, fat phobia, oral sex (male receiving), teasing, edging, rough sex, choking, cum play, mentions of a breeding kind, asphyxiation/ breath play, pregnancy, mentions of abortion, hints of violence, threats, demands to continue a pregnancy, confessions, Carol finds out, attack on a pregnant woman, divorce, happy endings

Comments: Dave York's assistant and very own personal sex toy, you are completely dedicated to giving him whatever he wants. Even knowing that he is married. Making it even more complicated when the situation changes.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Mr. York.” You knock on the door and open it less than an inch to see if your boss is busy. The file in your hand is one that he had requested, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not already on a conference call or something. He’s still wearing his suit jacket, not taken off yet but his tie is already pulled loose, a look that you love on the handsome DIA agent. He waves you in and you push the door open wider, knowing that you couldn’t fit through some small crack, you are too plump for that. “I have that file you wanted.” Dave York was a meticulous agent and often demanded information quickly.

Dave looks up at you, a smirk on his face as he watches you set the file down on his desk. “Thank you.” He says, his eyes dragging down your figure. You’re wearing that dress he loves and you look fucking fantastic. “Shut the door.” He orders, setting his pen down and you shut the door behind you, leaning against it. “Come here.” He orders, pointing at the space in front of him beside his desk. You slowly walk over to him and stand before him as he turns his chair to face you. “Take them off.” He orders and your eyes widen, “take what off?” You ask, innocent eyes staring at him and he chuckles. “Those panties I bought you. Take. Them. Off.” He orders, “now.”

You bite your lip, cunt clenching at the authority in his tone. You know that he would strip them off of you if you refused, probably ripping them in the process and they are nice panties. It should be weird that your boss buys your underwear, but he fucks you enough that its almost his job to provide panties with as many as he ruins. “Yes sir.” You demure, bending down slightly as you reach under your dress to slide your panties down your thighs.

Dave holds his hand out and you place the lace in his palm. “Good girl. Now, I want you to get under my desk and take my cock out. I have a call to make and it’s going to be boring. I don’t like being bored. I want you to entertain me.” He says, shoving the underwear in his desk drawer. “Are you going to keep me waiting?” He asks, eyebrows raised as you look at him a moment too long.

Your mouth waters, knowing exactly what he wants. The space under his desk will fit you, it’s been something that you’ve checked before. Dave wants you to suck his cock while he’s on the phone and you glance back at the door. It’s a good thing you had set the phone system to go to messages, knowing that he could have you under his desk for hours. Moving over to the desk, you kneel down to crawl underneath.

Dave is already half hard for you. Your perfume he bought you wafting into his office from your desk right outside coupled with your sweet voice over the phone has him ready for you. You fumble slightly as you work his pants open and you pull his half hard cock out. “Shit.” Dave grunts when you wrap your fingers around his length. He scans his email, looking for the number he needs to call while he hardens in your grip.

You love when he is filthy. Picking up his desk phone and starting to punch in numbers while you stroke his cock until he’s fully hard. “Don’t fucking play around.” He growls, making you smirk slightly under his desk and take your hand away to spit in it, wrapping around his cock again and slicking him up. He grunts at the wetness and you lean forward to press your tongue to the slit. Wondering if he had fucked Carol last night, it was Thursday and she always wanted sex after watching Grey’s Anatomy.

“Hey, Davis. Just wanted to follow up with the reports from the latest mission. Yeah, I got my secretary to type it - shit - sorry. Yeah, she’s a good girl.” Dave groans slightly on the last part, your mouth engulfing his cock and he makes a fist as he grips the phone. Your mouth is so fucking hot and wet around his cock. Carol didn’t jump him last night and he was grateful but he’s pent up and ready to cum.

You preen quietly around his cock, knowing that praise was meant for you. Taking him deeper into your mouth and down your throat before you swallow around his length. Loving the way he twitches on your tongue. You’re going to drip onto the carpet under his desk, sucking his cock always making you wet. It’s why he took your panties, he loves seeing how wet you get from pleasuring him. Calling you his filthy, cock hungry whore. You love it. Your body isn’t slim and perfect, you’re plus sized but Dave loves fucking you for some reason.

Dave exhales deeply through his nose, listening to Davis ramble on about the logistics of the mission and the financials but Dave doesn’t give a fuck. He just needs to get this call out of the way. He reaches down to caress your cheek, loving the way he can feel the bulge of his cock against your skin. “Yeah. I think that’s a good move.” He tells Davis and he tells you as you hollow your cheeks around him.

He’s already starting to throb on your tongue, the taste of his pre-cum smearing around your mouth. He must be pent up. Him and Carol obviously didn’t have sex yesterday and so you want to make this good for him. You know you don’t have Dave, he’s married, he has a family. But he wants you for now, so you try to give him everything he wants from you sexually.

“Just like that.” He tells Davis and you. Davis is reciting the wording on the report and you are blowing him with an expertise that Dave taught you from that first time. You moan around his cock and he twitches in your mouth. He’s so close. His hand slides lower to your throat, gripping it slightly and his grip on the phone tightens.

It’s his signal that he’s about to cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing as you try to open your throat as much as possible. If Dave is already about to cum, he’s either pent up from stress or he didn’t fuck Carol last night. Either way, you are about to get a thick load of cum spurting down your throat and he would be mad if you let one drop get on his pants or your dress. You reach up and squeeze his thigh, already starting to swallow around him as you bob on his cock.

Dave grunts while Davis rambles down the line about the report but Dave's cock twitches as he starts to cum down your throat. You swallow around him, making him close his eyes as he grips the phone and his grip on your neck tightens as he feels you swallowing every damn drop. "Fuck, that's good." He grunts and Davis says down the line, "thanks, boss."

His salty seed slides down your throat and you moan quietly around his length. Careful not to be too loud so Davis wouldn’t hear. Gasping when he finally quits cumming and you pull off his cock. Holding him gently and pulling out a handkerchief to dry him off so you can tuck him back into his pants and wipe your mouth.

Dave inhales deeply, “I gotta go Davis. Sounds like you got it handled.” Dave slams the phone down and pulls back from his desk, looking down at you as you lick your lips. “Sit on my desk and spread your legs, sweetheart.” He orders, “I wanna see how wet you got sucking my cock.”

It’s hard to smirk as you are crawling out from under a desk, but you manage. Standing up and sitting on the edge of his desk as you slide your dress up to show Dave your soaked cunt. You could feel how slick you are as you moved and you know he will be very pleased. “Soaked,” you coo softly, your throat a little rough from deepthroating his cock.

Dave hums, admiring your slick folds, and his hands slide along your thick thighs, squeezing the flesh as he leans in to smell the heady scent of your arousal. “So wet for me. You look like you need me to make you cum.” He coos, sliding his fingers through your wet folds. Your moan makes him chuckle and he pulls his fingers away. “Baby…” You whine and he slaps your pussy. “You know what to call me.” He growls and you pant, “sir. Please.” He loves hearing you beg but he loves to leave you squirming even more. He slaps your pussy again, your slick on his palm, “back to work. I want that report from Davis proofread before I get it.”

You whimper, loving and hating how you are being denied. “Yes sir.” You agree breathlessly, standing on wobbly legs, pressing your thick thighs together. You push your dress down. “May I have my panties back?” You ask, nodding when he just stares at you. You’re not getting them back obviously. “I’ll get right on that, sir.”

Dave smirks when you exit his office, gingerly walking from the arousal slicking up your thighs. He loves working you up, making you beg him to fuck you. A few hours pass by and Dave calls your name, “I want my lunch. Can you get it for me?” He asks, knowing you’ll rush out to get it but he’s not hungry for that sandwich he gets most days from down the street. No, he wants you. He’s hungry for you.

“Yes sir.” You quickly lock your computer and stand to go into his office. Most days you know his order by heart, but you always double check in case he has a craving for something different. Gathering your purse and your keys, you knock on his door frame and try not to smile when he looks up from his computer. “Would you like your regular order?” You ask softly.

Dave raises his eyebrows, pleased that you ask in case he wants to try something else. “The usual will suffice.” He says coolly and you nod, spinning around. His eyes drop down to your ass and he watches you leave. He licks his lips and turns back to his computer, continuing to read the file on his next op.

Running down to the deli that Dave loves gives you a chance to get in your steps. Deciding to walk instead of driving, changing from your heels to your tennis shoes for the exercise. You constantly ignore the dismissive looks, the skepticism as you hustle by. You’ll order Dave his sandwich and a salad for yourself.

When you return, Dave looks up to see you carrying his sandwich into his office and he smirks at you, "thanks, sweetheart." He takes the sandwich from you, "go take your lunch and come back here when you're done." He orders, loving the way you nod and hustle out of the room.

You eat at your desk. Aware that Dave could call for you at any moment, that he could need something. Even when you are taking lunch, you know that anything could interrupt that at any point. DIA issues don’t conform to normal hours. Pulling out your own container, you push away the salad dressing, knowing you don’t need the extra calories. Your bottle of water is what you will drink with it, keeping everything as nutritious as possible.

Dave finishes his sandwich, balling up the wrapper and tossing it into the trash and he decides to grab a coffee. You will be eating and he doesn't want to interrupt you on your break. He makes his way out of his office and sees you sitting at your desk with a salad, dressing on the side. "How the hell can you eat a salad without dressing?" He asks, leaning against the door frame.

You look over at him, lifting a brow at his obvious disdain for your meal. “One bite at a time.” You hum, forking up another bite of the undressed greens and chew, looking up at him. He’s so sexy as he leans there and you wonder again why the hell he touches you. Sure, he’s not as fit as he was when he first joined the DIA, but he was still in much better shape than you have ever been. “It’s healthy and I need to watch my calories.” You smirk slightly. “Already got my protein.”

Dave scoffs, pushing off of the door frame and he strides over to your desk. He picks up the small pot of dressing and opens it, pouring it over your salad. "Life is too short to eat boring ass leafy greens. You are fucking perfect like you are. Eat your salad with the dressing to be healthy but enjoy your food." He says, setting the empty pot down on your desk.

You stare at him for a moment, wondering why he would ruin your lunch like that. “Okay.” You put your fork down and pick up your water bottle. “Are you needing something else, sir?” You ask politely, taking a drink of water. “You are waiting on me to finish?”

"Take your time. I do want to see you in my office after you're done." He says and decides to use the bathroom while you are finishing your lunch. "Eat up, sweetheart. You need the energy." He winks and makes his way to the bathroom down the hall.

You smirk slightly, knowing what that means and you quickly toss the rest of the salad in the trash. Rushing off to the bathroom yourself since you are sure that Dave will want to fuck you when you get back to his office. He’s quicker than you, already behind his desk once more when you come back to the hallway outside his door where your desk is positioned. “You wanted to see me?” You ask, slightly breathless after hurrying through your own bathroom ritual.

Dave nods, his expression serious, and he gestures to the door, "come in and lock it." He demands, watching as you follow his order. "Come here and pull your dress up. I want you to sit on my desk, spread your legs." He orders, his cock twitching in his pants.

You walk towards the desk, pulling up your dress as you go and ignoring the way you imagine your thighs jiggle as you do. Watching as he pushes back from the desk to allow you to move past him and sit on it like you had earlier. Thankful that the desk is sturdy enough to hold you, not even creaking when you sit down and spread your legs like you had been ordered. It’s good it wasn’t one of those glass top things, it would never have supported you.

Dave’s dark eyes trail along your figure down to your pussy. God, you look delicious and he wants to devour you but right now, he wants to tease you. His fingers trail along your thighs until he is sliding them through your folds. “Want you to keep quiet and cum on my fingers.” He demands, rubbing your clit with his thick digits.

Your eyes close, head tilting back as you suppress a moan. Burying it deep inside, but you love the way his thick fingers caress your skin. Knowing exactly how to touch you from the second time he had fucked you. It’s wrong, but you don’t care when he pulls orgasms out of you as easily as he does. You are a distraction, a comfort to him when he can do the things to you that he can’t or won’t do to his wife and in return, you get mind blowing pleasure. You bite your lip, holding the edge of the desk to keep from rocking forward to meet his fingers, knowing he wouldn’t like you to try to take control.

Dave watches your eyelashes flutter as he pushes two thick digits into your tight cunt. You moan softly and he curls them inside of you, twisting his wrist so he can press his thumb to your clit. He loves how you take whatever he gives you. You take it with a moan like a depraved whore. His whore.

He’s going to let you cum. Your next moan is bitten off and you press your lips together to keep quiet. You can’t let anyone passing by hear what he’s doing to you in this office. Leaning back onto his desk even more while he does what he wants with you. “Dave.” you whimper breathlessly.

He watches you with a smirk, pumping his fingers into your needy pussy and he loves the way you struggle to keep quiet. “You gotta be quiet. Otherwise everyone in the office will know what a slut you are for me. How you take your boss’s cock.”

He loves mocking you. Making fun of how desperate you get for him. Smirking as he stands over you, his fingers buried inside you and looking as if he could be doing anything. You bite your lip harder as he curls his fingers up and presses against that spongy spot deep inside you.

Dave pumps his fingers a little faster, loving the way your jaw drops and he focuses on that spot that makes your thighs shake. He loves watching you take what he gives you without complaint. Carol would be moaning about how he “isn’t getting the right spot” or “your fingers aren’t thick enough.” You take what he gives you and you fucking love it.

You swear that you are surprised you don’t leave an impression on the desk from where your fingers dig in, you hold it so tight. Hanging on for dear life while he pumps those thick fingers deep into your cunt and makes you feel like the rubber band in your stomach is about to break. “D-Dave.” you gasp out, wanting permission to cum and you are so close now that your thighs are shaking.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Always so good for me. Always so fucking good. Want you to cum for me.” He demands, curling his fingers a little more and you break for him. You bite down on your lip and clench down on his fingers, your head thrown back and he chuckles as you whine quietly.

Dave never immediately pulls his fingers away when you cum, something you are eternally grateful for. Enjoying the trembling aftershocks as he works you through your high and pulls pleasure from you like a skilled surgeon. Fingering you until your walls are done quivering.

He loves the way you slump slightly and he withdraws his fingers from your pussy. “Gonna fuck you now. And you are gonna take what I give you. Take my cock out.” He demands, reaching out to squeeze your tits through your dress.

You whimper, enjoying the rough squeeze and fumble with his belt to pull his hard cock out of his pants. Wrapping your hand around it and pumping it firmly even though it is fully hard from making you cum. Still unable to believe he wants to fuck you.

He bats your hand away after letting go of your tits, and he shuffles closer, pressing the head of his cock to your folds. He pushes into you with a groan and he surges forward to press his lips to your neck when he’s pressing against your cervix.

You whimper, closing your eyes and your hands hold onto his shoulders. Squeezing him tight in your cunt and enjoying the way he groans and twitches inside you. “Fuck.” You gasp quietly, “so good, Dave.”

He grabs your hands, pulling your arms behind your back, and he keeps your wrists together. He arches your back and kisses down your neck, biting on the juncture of your shoulder where it can be hidden by your sensible cardigan. “You always take me so fucking well.” He groans just as the phone rings. “Keep quiet.” He demands, keeping your wrists in his grip and he reaches for the phone, picking it up with his free hand. “York.” He answers and he hears the voice of his wife. “Hey, baby. I wondered what you wanted for dinner tonight.” She coos and Dave continues rocking into you. “The girls said something about meatloaf.” He says nonchalantly as he fucks you a little harder.

You grit your teeth, trying not to make a sound as Dave casually talks to his wife with his cock buried inside you. It’s both thrilling and insulting at the same time, making you wish you had the guts to moan. You curl your hands into fists and bare down on his cock as hard as you can as he fucks you.

Dave chokes at the way you grip his cock inside of you, and he gives you a warning look. “Behave.” He mouths and you smirk, clenching around him again. He shakes his head and continues to discuss dinner with Carol. “Yeah. I won’t be late. Okay, honey. See you later. Yeah, I love you too. Bye.” He says and slams the phone down in the cradle, “you’re a naughty girl.” He tuts, gripping your chin in his hand. “Open your mouth.” He demands and you don’t obey him right away. He squeezes your jaw, forcing you to open your mouth, and he leans closer to spit in your mouth.

You moan quietly, loving how filthy he is when he pushes your mouth closed. “Swallow it.” He orders, snapping his hips forward harshly and making you choke as you swallow his spit. His cock is splitting you in two and you can’t help but wonder how he has the fucking stamina to fuck both you and Carol all the time. You know that if his cock is this good she must want it all the time. You do.

He loves the way you submit to him, take what he gives you without complaint. He hisses your name and lets go of your jaw and your wrists to grab your thighs, lifting them higher on his hips so he can sink deeper inside of you. “You are a dirty slut. My dirty slut. Say it. Tell me who you are.” He demands, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Yours.” You whimper instantly. “Your dirty slut, all yours.” You are breathless when he pushes your legs back, your tits jiggling from the force of his thrusts and you can’t even look over your stomach to watch his cock disappearing into your cunt, but you can feel it. “Your slut, only yours.”

He looks down at where you are taking him. You always take him so well. You are tight and wet and you let him do what he wants to you. Carol doesn’t like anything except missionary and he’s a man who gets easily bored. “That’s right. Mine.” He growls, thrusting harder.

You have to slap your hand over your mouth when you squeal, not wanting anyone to hear you. Taking his rough thrusts and loving how his cock shreds up inside you. He always hits perfectly and you feel your body tensing again, close to another orgasm.

He should deny your orgasm but he doesn’t want to. He needs to keep you sweet. He needs you to want him, to need him. He likes being needed. His cock twitches inside of you, and he slides his hand down to rub your clit, wanting to feel you clamp down on his cock.

“Dave….Dave.” Your whimpers are barely audible, but you know he hears them over the slick sounds of his cock pounding into your cunt. “Fuck baby, oh god.” Your eyes close the second your body locks up, convulsing under his as his fingers throw you over the edge. Shaking apart on his desk violently as your orgasm crashes through you.

Your orgasm makes him groan, eyes closing at how tight you squeeze him, soaking his cock enough to make the slick sounds of sex even louder in the small office. “Shit. That’s it. That’s - you’re such a good girl for me.”

You bask in his praise, soaking it up to hold onto when you’re alone tonight and Dave is with his picture perfect family. You shouldn’t be jealous, but you are and his praises help soothe that beast inside you. You whimper again, wanting to feel him cum. To drip him for the rest of the night until you clean up. “Dave.”

He grunts as he pushes into you, his cock pulsing as he gets closer to his climax. “Fuck. So fucking tight.” He hisses as you clench around him again and he pants, nostrils flaring as he thrusts deep. “Shit. I’m gonna cum and you’re gonna take it all. Fill that pussy up.” He hisses as he thrusts deep and throbs, painting your walls with his cum.

You whine in absolute delight at the heat that floods you. It won’t be as much as when you sucked his cock, but it’s enough to ruin your panties if he gives them back. You sigh softly, trying to catch your breath as you watch him ride out his orgasm, jaw clenched and eyes dark.

Dave closes his eyes as he twitches inside of you. Fuck, you are so goddamn good around him. He loves how you take whatever he gives you. He groans as he withdraws from you, his cum pooling at your entrance already and he reaches into his drawer to pull out your panties. "Want you to put these on and keep my cum in you until you go home."

“Yes sir.” You take the panties from him, climbing off the desk and quickly slipping them on. Taking a moment to fix your appearance so you can go back out to your desk and gather your things. It’s time to go home and you know he needs to leave quickly to spend time with his daughters. “Anything else you need, Mr. York?” You ask professionally. “Or may I go home for the evening?”

Dave tucks himself away, buckling his belt. "You can go home for the night. Tomorrow, I want you to wear that red number I bought you." He smirks and walks over to you, gripping your chin before you open the door, "and keep your weekend free. Carol is taking the girls to her mom's house so I want to come to yours and spread you out on that mattress I bought you and keep you there until the sheets are soaked."

Your just fucked cunt clenches and you nod while he still holds your chin. “Yes sir.” You agree breathlessly, knowing he would be rough and making it hard for you to walk by the time he’s through with you. He will walk into your house like he owns it, because he does. He had bought a house and installed you in it, claiming your apartment was a piece of shit and he didn’t want to get robbed when he wanted to come over and fuck you. “All weekend?”

"Alllll weekend." He confirms, "Carol will be gone and I want you to be ready for me. I am going to use that little pussy until you beg me to stop. And you never beg me to stop, do you baby? You are fucking desperate for my cock." He chuckles, caressing your cheek.

Your cheek burns under his hand, knowing that it’s pathetic how badly you crave him. He’s making fun of you again and like the masochist you are, you enjoy it. Knowing that he is somehow addicted to you because of it. “I am.” You agree quietly. “Always want your cock.”

He loves to hear that. Loves the way your lower lip quivers at the admittance and he chuckles, rubbing your lower lip with his thumb. “Prepare your ass for me. That’s what I want first when I come over Friday night.” He demands, knowing you have the toys he bought for you to keep at your house.

Biting your lip, you nod. Distracting yourself from trying to lean in to kiss Dave. He sometimes didn’t want to kiss you and after he pushed you away that first time, you’ve refrained from trying again. Feeling humiliated enough at being reminded that you are just a fuck for him. “Yes sir.” You agree and feel proud when he smiles. “You should go home.” You remind him softly. “The girls will be eager to see you.”

“Carol is waiting. She made meatloaf and I fucking love her meatloaf.” He smirks and lowers his hand from your cheek. “See you tomorrow, sweet cheeks.” He winks and grabs his jacket from his chair, shrugging it on and he grabs his briefcase. “Text me a photo of your cum filled cunt when you get home. Gimme something to think about when Carol wants me to fuck her later.”

Your smile tightens but he doesn’t notice, because you’ve turned your back to head out to your desk. “Yes sir.” You answer, as if there would be any other answer to give him. You don’t deny Dave, ever. Gathering your own coat and purse, you busy yourself with getting ready to leave as he walks out of his office. “Good night.” You murmur, expecting him to just walk past to the elevator.

Dave winks at you as he walks past you and down the hall to the elevator. You gather your things, walking gingerly as his cum slicks your panties, and you manage to catch the elevator just as Dave and a few others from the floor step on. Dave and you end up pushed towards the back and his hand wastes no time finding your ass under your dress. “Big plans for the weekend, York?” One of the guys asks Dave who clicks his tongue, “oh yeah. Gonna be practically orgasmic. Lying in bed all day.” Dave chuckles and the others snort, “yeah. I prefer getting some extra z’s in than sex nowadays.” Dave nods, “same here man.” He squeezes your ass as the bell rings for the ground floor. “See you all tomorrow.” The guys say as they filter out of the elevator and Dave smacks your ass before he steps away from you, not looking back as he heads to his car to go home to his wife and kids.

Walking to your own car, you unlock it and climb behind the wheel, taking your time to get comfortable. You don’t have to rush home, needing to stop by the grocery store for the low fat creamer you like and find something to eat. Scrambled eggs and cottage cheese maybe. Who knows, but you damn sure won’t be eating meatloaf.

Dave is watching television with the girls before they have their baths and he is tapping his fingers on his chair. You still haven’t sent him the photo he asked for. He picks up his phone after Carol disappears into the kitchen to clean up, and he texts you ‘where’s my pussy?’

You’re reading a book when the text comes in and you curse. Completely forgetting all about Dave’s picture. You almost text him back and tell him to ask his wife for one but you peel off your panties and spread your thighs to take a picture for your boss. You hit send and sigh softly, picking up your book again.

Dave’s phone beeps and he unlocks it, smirking at the sight of your creamy cunt. He loves that you still have it inside of you. He doesn’t respond back, Carol asks him to help with the girls so he sets his phone aside and gets him into bed. “They’re asleep.” He announces as he unbuttons his shirt. Carol smirks at him and shrugs off her robe, showing Dave the lacy nightie she’s wearing underneath. He wants to roll his eyes at the way she thinks she is so sexy but he can’t help but think you’d look sexier. With a sigh, he strips off and does his husbandly duty but he cums thinking of you and your creamy cunt, not of the woman beneath him.

Your bed is large, empty. Dave had insisted on a king bed when he bought it for you. Not that you had asked him for one. When you had moved in, you had the full sized bed that would fit in your tiny apartment. Dave had come over to christen the house and complained about what a piece of shit the bed was. The next weekend, another was being delivered. It’s comfortable, and it makes you think of Dave every time you crawl between the sheets. Wondering if he had the same bed at his house. With a sigh, you turn off the light and settle down. You have already set out the red outfit Dave wanted you to wear tomorrow.

****

Dave smirks when he sees you wearing the red dress the next morning when he comes into work but he doesn’t call you into his office. He wants you to squirm in your seat, preparing for the weekend. He likes to keep you on his toes. He calls your name and you enter his office, eyebrows raised in anticipation, “coffee?” He asks, lifting up his empty cup.

“Right away.” You know that he could get his own coffee, that was probably the second cup he’s already had, but you take the mug from his hand. It’s one you had gotten him as a little silly Boss Appreciation Day gift. It says ‘World’s Okayest Boss’. You had enjoyed the spanking he gave you that afternoon. Really enjoyed it.

Dave watches you leave the room and smirks to himself, knowing he’s going to have fun stripping that dress off of your body. When you come back with his coffee, he thanks you without looking up from his computer. He likes to blow hot and cold, keeping you on your toes.

You roll your eyes as you walk back to your desk and sit down. Amused with yourself for expecting him to act differently. He does this all the time, it’s like a little game and you allow him to pull you like a puppeteer pulling the strings. You shake off the interaction and pick up your own coffee to blow on while you start on your own work.

Dave ignores you for the rest of the day, getting his own lunch from the fridge that he brought from home, and he watches you as you answer the phone and sort through his mail. He can't wait to pull you apart this weekend, spend his time on your body until you're begging him to let you cum. When the end of day comes around, Dave groans as he stretches and grabs his briefcase, "I gotta head home and say goodbye to the girls. Be ready for eight." He orders, striding off to the elevator without looking back at you.

You huff slightly, slowly shutting down your own computer and gathering your things. Annoyed at how he’s ignored you and now expects you to jump to his whims. Still, you make your way home and climb into a bath, starting to get ready for him.

Dave waves goodbye to Carol and the kids as they back onto the road and he blows them a kiss as Carol pulls away from the house. He stands there for a few minutes before he heads back into the house to lock it up. It doesn't take long for him to grab his weekend bag and get into his car, making his way to your place for the weekend, a wicked smirk on his face when he pulls up outside of the home he bought you.

You had really debated if you should put the red dress back on after he had ignored you all day. Part of you wanted to change into sweats to spite him, to be comfortable. Still, you are fixing dinner for yourself, wearing the red dress. Unable to not disappoint him, despite yourself.

Dave lets himself into the home using the keypad, setting his bag down and he makes his way into the kitchen to find you cooking and the radio playing. "You being good to yourself?" He asks, wanting to make sure you aren't just having lettuce leaves like you tend to do.

“Hey.” You turn and give him a smile before looking back at the pan on the stove. “You didn’t say if you were eating with the girls, so I did some steaks.” They are resting in the oven while you finish sautéeing the green beans. “Steak and green beans sound good?” You ask. “You said to be prepared for a long night.”

Dave comes over to grab your hips, pressing himself against you. “You’re gonna need all the energy you can get.” He smirks against your neck as he leans in to kiss along your skin. “You’re such a good girl.” He coos, squeezing your ass.

Your mild annoyance at Dave fades when he starts to press against you. Tilting your head as you sautée the green beans so he can have more access to your skin. “Have you eaten?” You manage breathlessly, hoping that he will share a meal with you.

“No. Definitely haven’t had my dessert.” His hand slides around your stomach and up to your breast to squeeze. “You gonna feed me, baby girl? Make sure I got enough energy to fuck you into that mattress I bought you? Make sure you can barely fucking walk on Monday when you come into the office?”

“Yes.” It’s pathetic how you whimper, but his words make your cunt clench. The possessiveness in his tone lets you pretend you are actually his. That this isn’t some kind of game to him. A thrill he gets to have when his wife isn’t around. “I want that.”

Dave chuckles at the pathetic way you whimper and his hand squeezes your breast. “Finish making dinner like a good girl and then I expect you kneeling on your bed in that lacy number I bought you last week.” He murmurs against your cheek.

You hate that lingerie. It shows off how big you are. Your rolls on display and all your cellulite exposed. You had cried when you tried it on and had told Dave that you had been too tired to even open the bag. It feels like it was meant to humiliate you and you don’t want to put it on but you can’t deny him. “Okay.”

Dave grins, “good girl. Now, let’s eat. You’ll need your energy. I am planning to keep you in that bed all fucking weekend. Carol was boring as shit, laying there like a goddamn fish on ice. Need you to show me how good it can be.” He coos, stepping away from you so you can finish cooking.

You should hate how he talks about his wife, how he plays it off like you’re better. But you actually love it. Making you feel like you are giving Dave what he needs, even if you know you’re not. He’s just telling you what you want to hear, to make you feel justified in letting this man completely ruin you for anyone else. You’re completely in love with him and you can’t ever have him. You push that thought away and plate up the steaks and green beans. Bringing it over to the table with the wine already opened, like this is some kind of at home date for the two of you.

Dave groans when he sees the steak, cooked to a perfect medium rare, and he lifts his glass up to you when you are sitting down. “To a perfect weekend.” He toasts and winks when you clink your glass against his. He knows it’s wrong to keep you like this. To make you feel like it’s a relationship but this is his escape. You know him, the dark parts of him that Carol never sees, you don’t judge him for it.

Dinner is eaten quickly, both of you hungry and you preen when Dave groans over the meal you had prepared. Soon enough, you are quickly loading the dishes in the dishwasher and rushing to the bedroom to put on the dreaded lingerie that Dave is so eager to see you in. Even if you don’t like it, the fact that he wants to see you in it makes you strip out of the red dress and put it on, kneeling on the bed just like he had ordered after you had lit some candles and turned the lights down.

Dave takes his time washing up in the guest bathroom. He removes his shoes and socks, unbuttoning his shirt a little and splashing his face with water. He makes his way down the hall and opens your bedroom door, groaning at the sight that greets him. "Fuck. You look - baby girl, this is - Jesus. I fucking love it." He growls, striding over to the bed and he reaches out to grab your stomach, loving how every inch of you is on display.

You don’t wince, but you want to. Hating that he automatically went for the part of you that is least attractive. He seems to not care about the flabbiness, or he acts like he doesn’t care. Maybe he thinks that if he pretends to love your body, you will do whatever he wants. Stupidly correct since you will do what he wants anyway. You lick your lips and wonder what he has planned for you tonight.

He loves your body. A perfect example of softness and femininity in his eyes. You are plush and take everything he gives you. He groans your name and slides his hand up to squeeze your tit through the lace. "Looks so pretty for me."

Dave’s hands are large and they perfectly cup your tits. You enjoy the roughness that is tempered sometimes, but you love when he comes back from missions. Especially if they haven’t gone to plan. He’s feral, harsh, demanding on those nights. Often coming to you to fuck away the stress before he even goes home to his family. Almost always, you have to take off the next day because you are so sore, although it’s Dave sending you home instead of you calling in. “Just for you.” You promise, looking up at him.

He loves that look in your eyes, the one that tells him you’ll give him everything if he requests it. He groans and leans in to kiss along your neck, his hands reaching down to unclasp your bra, wanting to see your tits on display and out of the lace he bought you.

Even if you believe it’s an act on his part, he makes you feel beautiful. His hands worship you in their rough, eager way. You moan when he cups your breasts, pinching the nipples after he drags the straps of the bra down your arms and tosses it aside. The lace panties are barely there, hidden under the rolls of flesh and getting soaked by your arousal. “Dave.” You plea, wanting more, wanting him. Anything he will give you.

He chuckles, letting go of your breast to grip your chin, “patience. You’re not in charge. Who’s in charge?” He asks with a click of his tongue. “You are, sir.” You say and he hums, “that’s right. I’m in charge.” He leans in to bite your chin before he ducks his head and bites down hard on your nipple. His hands are squeezing your ass to drag you closer to his body.

You whine softly, closing your eyes as the pain and pleasure mingle and you give up any kind of resistance to him. You want him to take what he wants, do what he wants with you. You will let him do anything he wants to you, and he loves that. Your body trembles as his tongue soothes the bite and then he moves over to your other breast, biting just as hard. Another whimpered moan escapes your lips and you pant quietly.

His hand slides down over your stomach, squeezing the flesh before he snakes his fingers into your panties, the lace giving way to his touch, and he quickly finds your clit to rub slow circles on it.

“Baby…” You moan, cunt clenching around nothing and you love how he just knows exactly how to touch you. He might slap your pussy or spit in your mouth, but the way he touches your clit shows you that he knows what he’s doing with your body. It’s not the careless, fumbling swipes of his fingers like past lovers. He’s methodical and it always tears you to pieces.

“That’s it. Want you to cum just like this. Get that pussy nice and wet for me. Wanna make you feel good tonight. Tomorrow, I won’t be so kind. Want you to feel good tonight, baby girl.” He murmurs, rubbing your clit a little faster.

Multiple days are rare so you will take everything you can get. It will help when the weekends are lonely and you are bombarded with social media posts with the happy York family in your notifications. “Dave.” You moan, sliding your hands up to cup your tits. “So good. It feels so good\ baby.”

He leans back to watch you squeeze your tits. “I want to watch you touch yourself.” He reaches for the lace of your panties and rips them like they are paper. “Want you to lay down and show me how you touch my cunt when I’m not here.” He demands, reaching up to begin unbuttoning his shirt.

You moan, shifting to lay down and you spread your legs. Most of the time you use a wand, so you open the bedside drawer but Dave tuts. “Use your fingers.” He orders, making you close the drawer and you slide your fingers down to part your puffy folds and press your index finger to your clit.

He groans as he watches you touch yourself. It’s a sight he never gets tired of. He shrugs off his shirt and lets it drop to the floor, his cock pressing against his zipper and he slowly pulls his belt out of the loops after he unbuckles it.

You bite your lip, wondering if he will spank you with his belt tomorrow. He's only done that once before and you were gingerly sitting down for days, even with the cooling cream he had spread over your generous cheeks. “Not as good as you.” You whine, rubbing your clit faster. “Nothing is as good as you.”

“That’s damn right. Only I can make you squeal.” He smirks and unbuttons his pants but he doesn’t pull his cock out. He watches you with dark eyes, “you’re so sexy.” He murmurs, leaning in closer to watch you touch yourself.

You don’t believe that, but your body responds to the praise. Arching up and spreading your legs wider as your fingers work over your swollen nub of pleasure. “Baby, baby touch me.” You beg quietly.

He tuts, shaking his head. “No. I want you to keep going.” He orders and you whine in protest but he reaches out to smack your thigh, loving the way it jiggles. He doesn’t want you to cum yet. He wants you to work yourself up. “So fucking gorgeous.” He murmurs, knowing he needs to tell you that more. You deserve the praise.

Your eyes slip closed and you start to slowly rock your hips down. Pushing against your fingers and you wish it was Dave. Needing his touch because you can smell him. Dave has a unique scent that you are obsessed with.

He shifts down onto his stomach, his face hovering near your pussy, and he inhales your heady scent as you rub your clit. “Look at me.” He demands, gripping your thighs to push them further apart.

Your eyes instantly pop open, looking down at him between your thighs to see him so close to your cunt. You moan, clenching around nothing again and you wonder if this will be the rare treat of him eating you out.

Dave loves the way you rub your clit and he wants you to feel good. He needs to show you some intimacy every once in a while because it keeps you happy. He can’t be mean to you all the time. He shuffles closer, his dark eyes on you as he bats your hand away and leans in to slide his tongue through your folds, flicking over your clit.

“Dave!” You squeal in surprise, cutting yourself off with a long moan when he drags his tongue through your folds again. “Oh fuck.” You gasp out, ready to do whatever he wants as long as he keeps using his tongue on you. “Fuck.”

He smirks against your folds, loving the way you moan and he laps at you again, determined to make you cum like this. To show you how good he can be. He laps at your clit and his fingers dig into your fleshy thighs, loving the feel of you.

“Fuck Dave.” You whimper his name again, lost in the sensations of his mouth on your cunt. You’ve pleasured him countless times and while he’s always made you cum- except for times he was denying you- you rarely get this kind of treatment. Making you shiver in anticipation of what is to come.

Dave laps at your clit before he slides his tongue down, pushing it into your weeping cunt with a groan. Fuck, you taste so sweet. Always tastes so sweet. He slides his hand up your thigh so he can press his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves while his tongue curls deep inside of you.

Your fingers tangle into the sheets with a low moan, force of habit keeping you quieter than you know he would probably like. You’re home, you can be as loud as you want. Whimpering as he tongue fucks you, your walls soaking his face as you grind against him.

He can’t see your face like this but he wants to hear you. He pulls back for a second, “want to hear you. Moan for me, baby.” He demands before he dives back in to push his tongue deep inside of you.

It’s like you needed his permission, moans spilling out of you in increasing volume. Letting yourself go and making sure he knows how much you love his tongue buried in your cunt. “Fuck! Fuck baby, you’re so good. So fucking good to me.”

He loves to hear how much you love it. He wants you to be addicted to him, to need him. He loves hearing you moan his name, he wants you to want him. His tongue curls deeper, his cheeks pressed against your thighs as he tries to taste more of you, his thumb rubbing your clit a little faster.

“Oh god.” You whimper, eyes squeezing shut as you pull at the bedsheets. “It’s so- it’s too much.” You gasp, so close to the edge. A few more swipes of his thumb and you are crying out, clenching around his tongue as you soak his face.

He hisses as you clamp down on his tongue, loving the way you cry out so beautifully. Carol never reacts like that. She’s so cold and emotionless. Probably why he married her. Less complicated. Yet now he yearns for your noises, your thrashing from pleasure. He fucking loves it.

He works you through it. Continuing to lavish your cunt with attention until you are wrung dry. Almost overstimulated and your thighs try to close around his head, but you don’t dare. The last time you tried to deny him, he had tied you to the bed.

Dave smirks against your thighs as you finish trembling around him. Fuck, he loves the way you take whatever he gives you. You’re gorgeous and he wants you to believe it, even if he controls your life. He wants you to know that you are desirable. He pulls back from your pussy, chuckling at the way you whine slightly and he slaps at your sensitive folds, “hands and knees.” He demands, pulling his cock out of his pants and he doesn’t take them off yet.

You pant as you roll over, pushing to your knees as you face away from him. Eager to have him inside you after such a blissful orgasm. Only Dave has ever fucked you as hard as you need and made you feel like it wasn’t just a pity fuck, or some need to get his rocks off. Your ass wiggles slightly as you get comfortable and you moan when he slaps it.

He shifts to kneel on the bed, his hands squeezing your ass and he works fast to position his cock at your entrance, pushing into you in one quick thrust. He grabs his belt when he’s fully inside of you, wrapping it around your throat.

Your sharp inhale says it all. You’re surprised by the force around your throat. Eyes bulging in your head and it takes you a split second before you stop yourself from reaching for it. Knowing that you are safe with him because if he wants to kill you, there are easier ways. Instead, you moan, clenching around him.

He loves the way you moan. He grips the leather, using it to keep you still as he thrusts into you. His pace is unrelenting as he fucks you hard. His jaw clenched as he grips the belt, tightening around your throat.

You can’t take full breaths, every last drop of air is being fucked out of you when he slams his cock back inside you. Panting as he rides you, fucks you with no mercy and any sounds you make come out as tiny squeals. Holding on as your eyes roll back in your head while he drills into you.

He is practically straddling your ass and thighs as he rams into you. Sweat beading on his forehead and jaw clenched as he thrusts into you. He groans your name and tightens the belt, loving the squeak that escapes your lips.

It’s almost more than you can take but you press against the belt slightly. Wanting to drop your head but you can’t. Clenching around him when it cuts off your air more. “D-Da-ave!” You gasp.

He loves the way you gasp for air, it makes his cock twitch inside of you. He can feel how close you are to cumming and he doesn’t want that. Not yet. He groans and pulls out of you, loosening the belt.

Gasping, you collapse onto your elbow and suck in air greedily. Not even able to speak for a moment as you try to catch your breath and calm down.

He chuckles at the way you slump. “On your back, hands gripping the headboard.” He demands, “gonna make sure you cum but you won’t be getting off easy.” He smirks and you struggle to shift onto your back. “Hands.” He tuts, reminding you.

You push to your hands and flip onto your back, not caring for once that everything moves. You know it’s an unflattering picture, but you don’t care right now, still panting as you reach up and grab the headboard of the bed.

Dave immediately straddles your figure, leaning down to wrap the belt around your wrists, securing you to the headboard. “Such a needy little whore. You’ll let me do anything, won’t you?” He smirks. Lightly slapping your cheek, he chuckles at the way you shine, his hard cock pressing against your belly.

“Yes, yes sir.” You pant out, positively dripping from how sexy you find all this. It’s like every dark romance novel you’ve ever read and it’s even better. “Anything you want. It’s yours. I’m yours.”

He loves hearing you say that. “Such a good fucking girl.” He groans, leaning in to bite down on your nipple as he shuffles down your body. “You’re so sexy. And all mine. It’s all mine.” He growls against your breast, his cock twitching, and he slaps your other breast while he bites down and sucks on your skin.

You whimper and moan, body jerking at the harsh slap, but you love it. Your hands are tied, you are immobile and still you wouldn’t move if you were free. You want his attention, you need it. “Fuck Dave.” You whine. “More.”

Dave shakes his head, shifting further down your body. "You don't get to make demands. Who fucking owns you? Who owns this pussy?" He growls, reaching down to cup your cunt. "Who owns this goddamn house and your entire wardrobe?"

It’s true. Dave has bought most of your work wardrobe, all of your lingerie and underwear. The only thing that he didn’t buy was the comfy clothes you wear when he’s not around you. You don’t know how he manages it without Carol knowing, but you’re sure it’s funded from his offshore account. “You do. You own me.” It would be horrifying if you didn’t want to be owned by him. “I’m yours.”

He loves hearing you say that. His chest puffing and his cock twitching at the way you openly declare that he owns you. “That’s right, baby. You’re mine. My slut.” He growls, slapping your thighs. “Beg me to fuck you.” He demands, slapping your thighs again.

You moan, eyes rolling back at the sharp sting of his hand. “Fuck me please.” You beg breathlessly. “I need your cock inside me. Only you can make me cum like I need.” You praise him, knowing how much he loves the way you are needy for him. “Please fuck me. Please baby.”

He reaches out to grip your chin, “what do you call me?” He growls and you whimper, “sir. Please fuck me sir.” He smirks, “that’s better.” He smacks your cheek and shifts to grip his cock, positioning himself at your entrance and he pushes into you with a hiss at how wet you are.

You cry out, cunt clenching down around him and the sting on your cheek just adds to the sensation. Your hands tug at his belt, wishing you could touch him. “Fuck! Yes, of fuck yes, sir. Fuck me, please sir. I’m yours.”

He loves the way you writhe beneath him, “that’s it, baby. Take me so well. Take every fucking inch.” He pushes impossibly deeper inside of you. “You are gonna take every goddamn inch until I fill you up and then you’re going to keep my cum inside of you because I fucking own this pussy.”

“Yessss.” You moan quietly, squeezing around him again. You love when he’s possessive and makes you keep his cum inside you. You feel like he has a breeding kink that he doesn’t really talk about. You’ve never asked, it’s none of your business and even if he did, he would never want you to have his child.

Dave grunts as he starts to move, his hands squeezing your flesh, sliding his hands up your body to grab your tits. He squeezes the flesh and pinches your nipples, loving the way you moan his name. That breathless sigh and way your eyes roll back has him twitching inside of you.

Dave rocks into you, making your entire body move with each harsh thrust. Making you moan and whine for more as he does what he wants and makes your thighs shake. He fills you up, his cock seemingly the perfect fit for your cunt, or perhaps it was that your cunt has adapted to his cock. Either way, the way he punches against your walls makes you squeal.

He rams into you, his jaw clenched as he fucks you harder. His hands are squeezing your flesh and he wants you to cum for him. He doesn’t want to deny you, he wants you to squeeze him, soak him. He loves hearing you cum. The way you moan his name.

It’s always intense. Building you up quickly from the snap of his hips and his cock shredding up into you. Everything comes together in perfect harmony. You don’t even warn him you’re about to cum. Your back bows and your second orgasm of the night has you screaming his name, his cock hitting perfectly as you soak him as you squirt.

“Jesus Christ. Look at that.” Dave groans, pulling out of you fast so he can watch your juices splash over the sheets. “Such a dirty little whore. Squirting all over my cock. And look at you, you want more, don’t you?” He chuckles, reaching down to wrap his fingers around his soaked cock, jerking himself.

“Yes, fuck yes.” You pant, knowing you would be so embarrassed if he didn’t find it so sexy. “Need more, sir. Need you, so fucking much.” You tug against the restraining belt again, wishing you could touch him. Stroke his cock for him or suck him off. Anything to give him pleasure.

Your moan is needy and he chuckles, continuing to jerk himself off. “So fucking needy for my cock. Maybe I should just jerk off and cum over your tits. Or I’ll cum over your pussy? Won’t let you feel it inside of you. Or your mouth. What do you want?” He coos sadistically, wanting to torture you.

You whimper, knowing that whatever you say, he will do the opposite. He likes to toy with you, twist you around and loves when you beg him. “Whatever you want. I just want you to feel good.” You moan. “Use me. Use me however you want.”

Dave loves it when you beg him to take what he wants. He continues to pump himself before he lets go, pushing back inside of you in one thrust and he grabs your thighs, pushing them back towards your body. He groans at how tight you are like this.

You grunt, your ability to breathe is nearly cut in half when he pushes your legs back. Moaning quietly as he starts to thrust into you again. All you can do is take him. Your cunt quivering every time he fills you up again and trying to hold him there as he pulls out. “Fuck.” You pant.

He’s feral. Taking out every bit of stress he experienced from work and home out on your pussy. He grunts through clenched teeth as he pushes deep into you. “Take it. Take it like the fucking whore you are. Say it. Say you’re my slut.” He growls, fingers digging into your thighs.

You can barely make a sound when his hips slap against the back of your thighs but you try. “Y-y-yooouuuur sl-slut.” You stutter out, curling your hands around the belt tighter as he hammers into you like a jackhammer.

He hisses, his cock twitching inside of you, and he’s close. So fucking close. “Want you to cum again for me.” He demands, fucking into you hard and fast. He wants you to squirt on him again before he feels you up.

You whine, knowing that if he wants it, he will get it. Dave is tenacious like that. Your toes curl as he ramps up his pace and you are just amazed he hasn’t stopped for a break yet. “D-D-Dave!”

He grips your flesh even harder, harsh breaths escaping his lips as he pushes into you over and over again. “Cum for me. Cum.” He demands, “fucking - do it. Now.” He growls, his back starting to ache but he won’t give in.

Daves orders are like the switch your body needs. Shaking, you cry out breathlessly again. Unable to even say anything, just crying out as you shatter again. Feeling the liquid rush and nearly passing out from the pleasure.

Dave fucking loves the way you soak him and the sheets beneath you. He hisses and pushes deep a half dozen more times, his thrusts squelching as he presses the head of his cock against your cervix and lets go. He groans and his cock pulses as he fills you with hot cum, his head dropping to rest his chin on his chest.

He fills you, your eyes slipping closed and you know that it’s perfect. You’re exhausted from the way he fucked you and you know that if he wanted more you would give it to him. You can’t even catch your breath, but you don’t know if you want to. Opening your eyes again to watch him as he rocks his hips slowly while filling you up.

He pants, closing his eyes as he fills you, and he squeezes your thighs until he relaxes, releasing your flesh from his grip. "Fuck." He huffs happily, knowing that only you can make him feel like this.

****

Since that night, Dave has been out of town for several trips and having to focus on a few different cases that have included long hours and work outside the office. That’s a good thing, because if he had been in, he would have noticed something before you did. You stare at the paper, chewing your bottom lip as fresh tears gather and you wonder how the hell you managed to find yourself in this situation, although that should be rather obvious. You’ve been so upset that the last two days you’ve taken off from work. Next week Dave will be out of town, you can have your procedure and he will never even know there’s been a pregnancy.

Dave can tell there's something wrong. You don't respond to his texts as fast as you normally do. You aren't as starry eyed when you look at him when he walks past your desk before he heads out on an op. He is concerned - not that he'd ever admit that. He decides to head home early. The case is wrapped up and Carol thinks he is out of town for two more days. You won't be expecting him but you'll let him inside. He pulls up down from your house, not on the drive, and makes his way to your door, opening it with the key he had made and he steps inside, wondering what's been going on with you.

Coming out of the bathroom, it’s been a bad day. Between crying and getting sick, you feel horrible. Brushing your teeth after you lost the soup you had eaten, you groan quietly as you move to the kitchen to get a glass of water. The appointment is tomorrow and you are nervous and heartbroken at the same time. It’s confusing and your anxiety is just making you more sick. “Fuck.” You huff to yourself, hearing your phone ding in the living room. It’s probably Dave and you don’t want to talk to him right now.

Dave watches you, a frown on his face at the way you scramble for the phone. It’s not him calling you. He hovers in the hallway and sees a piece of paper on the side. Curious, he picks it up. His nostrils flare when he reads the word ‘pregnant’ and he hisses under his breath, shaking his head. He sets it down on the side and strides into the living room where you are on the phone.

“Yes, thank you.” You bite your lip, emotions crowding your voice and you try not to cry. “Two o’clock. And should I expect any cramping after? Or just the bleeding?” You listen and when Dave steps into the living room, you jump and gasp. “Yes? No, uh, sorry, my- my cat scared me. Okay. Okay, thank you.” You quickly end the call and get up from the couch nervously. “Dave. Um, I didn’t expect you.” You bite your lip, knowing you look like shit. “What are you doing here?”

He stares at you, eyes narrowed as he takes in the gaunt look on your face, the ragged sweats, your greasy hair. You look sick. He crosses his arms as he looms over you, "were you ever going to tell me?" He demands to know.

You shiver at the dark look in his eyes. He knows. You could lie, deny it, but it would be an insult. He’s a fucking DIA agent and an assassin on top of that. He’s not stupid. Your shoulders round and curl in on your frame. “No.” You admit quietly. “Never.”

“And you were gonna get rid of it?” He asks, his tone flat, face indifferent so you can’t see the emotions rolling inside of him. He can’t believe it. You’re pregnant and you weren’t going to tell him.

You choke out a huff and gesture helplessly. “What else am I supposed to do?” You ask rhetorically. “I can’t have this pregnancy.” You’ve tried very hard not to think of it as a baby. Under different circumstances you would have been thrilled to be pregnant, but this isn’t the case. “Don’t worry, it’ll be done tomorrow and you will never have to think about it again.”

Dave growls, “you were gonna kill my baby and not even fucking tell me?” He strides over to you, grabbing your throat to push you against the sofa, his fingers wrapped around your neck. “I have a fucking right to say what I want.”

For the first time, you are truly scared of Dave. Choking out a cry and grabbing his hand, hoping he doesn’t try to hurt you. “I- no.” You shake your head. “It’s my- you’re married!” You don’t understand why he would be mad, he should be relieved. “I’m just the woman you fuck!”

“You’re not getting rid of it. You’re keeping the baby.” He commands, his fingers still wrapped around your throat and you whimper, “but you’re married. I can’t - we can’t -” He tuts, “I’ll look after you. I promise. I can’t be with you but I’ll make sure you and the baby are looked after.” He promises and you sob, “I can’t do that.”

Dave scoffs, “you’re going to do it otherwise I’ll kill you.” Your eyes widen at his threat, “I’d rather you kill me. It’s better than being in love with you and not being able to have you.” You spit at him, and he chuckles darkly, “you're a silly little girl if you don't think that I fucking worship the ground you walk on. I'd move in tonight if I could, but l have my girls and I can't abandon them. Can't leave them with their useless cunt of a mother. You're fucking blind if you can't see that I love you too. That you have me.”

You’re so conflicted, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I don’t understand, I thought- I thought you would be mad I was pregnant.” You confess, sobbing harder. “You- you want me to have the baby?” You ask, sure that he would have wanted the complete opposite. “You love me?”

Dave scoffs, letting go of your throat to caress your cheek, "do you really think I don't love you? You silly girl." He shakes his head, "of course I do. When have I ever said something I don't mean?"

You almost flinch but end up leaning into his touch. Sighing softly because it’s true, Dave never says something he doesn’t mean. At least not to you. There’s never been a need to lie when you know all his dirty secrets. “You don’t.” You admit quietly.

“Exactly.” He caresses your cheek again, his dark eyes burning into you. “I won’t lie to you.” He promises, sliding his hand down and he shifts to kneel beside the sofa. His eyes watching you as he shifts to hook his fingers in your leggings, watching you as he pulls them down. “Wanna taste you.” He murmurs, pulling the restrictive material off of you and flinging it across the room before he yanks your panties off. It doesn’t take long for him to dive in, sliding his tongue through your folds.

“Dave!” You cry out, unable to believe that he is eating you out again. You had expected him to lecture you, to yell at you. You whimper, so sensitive since you hadn’t been able to have sex the past few weeks. You hadn’t even masturbated because you had been so sick.

Dave laps at you, sucking your clit into his mouth and his hands push your thighs further apart. You taste different but he likes it. You are sweeter. He growls into your flesh, his hands sliding to your ass, lifting your hips so he can push his tongue inside of you.

“Dave, baby.” You whimper, closing your eyes and your fingers slide down to curl into his hair. You wouldn’t normally do that, but you also had never expected to find out Dave loves you. It shifts the dynamic slightly. “Baby- I love you so much.”

Dave groans into your flesh, not pulling back to say he loves you too. He’s already confessed his feelings and he’s not one to give gushing soliloquies of love. He knows you know how he feels. His tongue pushes deeper and his nose presses against your clit. His hand slides up to your belly, resting there to feel where his child is, to feel your beauty.

His hand on your stomach brings tears to your eyes, finding it soft and sweet. His tongue pushes inside you as he caresses your stomach. It’s sweet and dirty, your nerves sensitive and he doesn’t stop until you are gasping out, close to cumming.

He wants you to cum for him, his tongue sliding up to your clit, lapping at it and your moan makes his cock throb in his pants. You are fucking perfect. Untarnished despite his filthy touch on your flesh, you are an angel. He is the devil that crawled from hell to touch you. He shouldn't be allowed to be near you, his touch ruins everything yet you remain so innocent. He laps at your clit, his free hand shifting until he is pushing two fingers inside of you.

“Oh fuck, Dave.” You whimper his name, his thick fingers giving you the fullness you crave. You want his cock inside you, but you don’t know if you could handle the harsh pace he fucks you at right now. “So good. You’re so good, baby. Fuck, I love those fingers inside me.”

He pumps his fingers, groaning at the way you clench around them. Your pussy is wet, soaking his digits, and he hisses at the way you moan his name again. You’re so good to him. He sucks your clit back into his mouth, wanting you to cum for him.

It doesn’t take long to work you up. Your body has been neglected, from his work schedule and your lack of interest, although when he touches you it sets you on fire. “Dave!” You cry out, lurching up and catching sight of him right before the stars burst behind your eyes and you shake apart on the couch for him.

Dave groans when you clamp down on his fingers, making him moan your name around your clit as you writhe under his touch. He doesn’t do this often but he felt like he needed to do it because you’re carrying his child.

The last time Dave ate you out, it was actually the night that you made your child. You had tracked it back to that weekend that Dave had spent the entire weekend in bed with you. It was a good time. “Dave, baby.” You whimper, starting to feel like it’s too much, but you don’t push his head away.

Dave withdraws his fingers when you start to whine and he shifts to hover over your body. His lips glistening as he watches you with dark eyes. He doesn’t press his body down on yours but he leans in to softly kiss you. He doesn’t kiss you unless it’s to bite you but right now, he wants to be soft.

The kiss takes you by surprise but you lean into it. Wondering why he is being so soft with you right now. Is it because of the pregnancy? Your fingers are still in his hair and they unfurl to slide down to his shoulders. “Do you want to fuck me?” You ask when he pulls back.

Dave shakes his head, “no. Not tonight. You need to sleep. Have you eaten?” Dave asks and you bite your lip, knowing you’ve struggled to keep anything down. “I’ll make you an omelet. Carol could barely keep anything down except eggs when she was pregnant with Alice.” He shifts off of you, grabbing your panties for you to put back on, and he reaches down to adjust his hard cock after he stands.

You stare at him for a moment, shocked that he is denying himself. He's never denied himself unless there was a meeting he needed to be in. And that was only if he was needed in person and couldn’t video call. You slide your panties on when he disappears into the kitchen.

****

Carol hums as she watches the floors pass by on the screen. The Tupperware in her hands as she rides to her husband’s office. She hasn’t seen a lot of him lately. He’s been working late nearly every night and she wants to catch up with her husband. She’s missed him. The elevator dings and she steps out, making her way down the hall to Dave’s office. She steps into your desk area, knocking on the door, and your eyes widen when you see her. “Mrs - Mrs York, how are you? Was Dave - was Mr. York expecting you?” You fumble to look at your computer and Carol’a eyes trail down your body to the bump you’re sporting.

“Are you - are you pregnant or did you get fatter?” She asks bluntly, her lack of concern for your feelings is obvious at the indifferent look on your face.

“I-“ you can’t believe that she just asked that, feeling your cheeks heat up and you hate that you can’t call her a bitch, but that would just cause issues for Dave. “I’m nearly seven months along. Twenty-seven weeks, thanks.” You offer her a tight smile and your hand slides along the bump that houses Dave’s child.

Dave walks out of his office, hearing you talk to someone and he’s become slightly protective as you have gotten further along in your pregnancy, coming home with you every night before going to his home. He says he wants to make sure you are safe, but he often cooks to make sure you eat since you are still getting sick. “Carol? What are you doing here?” He asks with a frown.

"I brought you lunch since we haven't been spending that much time together." She holds up the tupperware in her hands. Dave stifles the deep sigh that nearly escapes his lips. "Yeah, uh, it's been busy here, hasn't it?" He asks you and you nod in confirmation.

Carol hums, looking back at you, "seven months? Wow. I didn't even know you had a boyfriend. Dave always says you're painfully single." She smirks slightly, "congratulations to you and your...do you have a boyfriend?" She asks, wondering if he left you when you said you were pregnant. She's never liked you. You're too pretty and even if she was mollified because you're fat, she doesn't like the idea of you being outside Dave's office day in and day out.

It takes extreme discipline not to look over at Dave, but you just shrug slightly. “No.” You tell her without expanding on the question at all. Let her stew. It’s not like she doesn’t have reason to hate you, you are sleeping with her husband and pregnant by him, but she doesn’t know that. She’s just always been a bitch to you. She doesn’t have mythical intuition or some gut feeling. She made snide comments before the relationship between you and Dave went anywhere beyond professional. “Well, I will take my lunch now, since yours is sorted for you.”

Dave nods, watching you go, and he can't say anything to tell you he's sorry for the behavior of his bitch of a wife. He sighs as you stand up and his eyes drop down to your belly, full and round with his child. He swallows harshly and steps back to open his office door, "come on then, darling." He tries to keep the bite out of the nickname.

Carol looks back at you and gives a small smile. “Hopefully you are eating healthy, and not for three.” She lifts a brow. “You don’t need to put on too much more weight.” You don’t say anything, just turning and opening the bottom drawer to pull out your purse.

Dave wants to step between you and his wife but he can't. He tuts as Carol steps into his office and he shuts the door behind her a little too forcefully. "Why the fuck would you speak to her like that?" He growls, "she hasn't done anything to you."

Carol scoffs as she sets the Tupperware down. "Just taking up too much room. Poor baby. Gonna come out with diabetes." Carol scoffs and Dave snorts, "you had gestational diabetes with Molly." He reminds her but she sits down opposite his desk and shrugs, "well, I lost the weight."

Dave rolls his eyes before he sits down, "be nice to her. She works hard."

“I don’t want to talk about her.” Carol waves towards the office door, satisfied that she can hear the elevator ding as it opens and you leave. “I’ve missed you, lately.” She pouts. “The girls have missed you.” She knows that whatever might be going on, and she knows something is going on, Dave loves the girls.

“I’ve been busy with work. Paperwork…reports…meetings.” He lists off and watches Carol open the Tupperware. Her cooking is decent, not as good as yours. “I miss the girls.” He says, tapping his fingers on the desk. “I miss you, baby.” She coos, fluttering her eyelashes and Dave bites his lip, wondering how to handle this. He hasn’t slept with Carol since he found out you are pregnant. “I have a meeting soon.” He declares, “can’t be too long for lunch.”

“You’ve been working too hard.” She huffs. “We need to take a weekend away. Maybe go up to the cabin?” She smiles and winks at him. “The girls always sleep like the dead up there so you and I can have some alone time after they go to bed.”

He knows he can’t say no. She’d get suspicious. So he nods, “sure. We can do that.” Carol frowns at his lack of enthusiasm. “Let’s eat.” He says, gesturing to the food she brought, “I don’t have a lot of time.” He reminds her and she huffs, handing him the lunch she brought him.

The food is good, but Dave is wondering where you went to eat. What you are eating. He’s been making sure you’ve been eating well, for the baby and for your easily upset stomach. Carol talks to him about the girls, something that he enjoys and he can’t help but wonder what they would think about having a sibling. Holding the baby when they come. You hadn’t wanted to find out the sex of the baby, wanting it to be a surprise.

Dave kisses Carol goodbye just as you walk into the office, your eyes averting the couple, and Dave smiles at Carol. “See you at home.” He says and she smirks, “don’t be late.” The lunch you just ate swirls in your stomach and you rush to sit down just as Carol leaves. “You doing okay?” Dave asks after she’s gone, “what did you have to eat?”

“I’m fine.” You brush away his concern, upset from Carol’s visit and you know that you have no right to be. You’re not his wife, she is. “I had a chicken wrap.”

Dave tuts, “is that all? That’s not enough, sweetheart.” He says, walking over to you. “How’s the baby? You blocked out your appointment for next week in my calendar?” He asks, leaning over you with concern in his eyes.

You’ve learned not to argue with him about food, he gets snappy when he thinks you are trying to lose weight while carrying his child. “You don’t have to come.” You protest again, even knowing it won’t do any good. He’s been there for all the appointments since he found out. “But yes, to answer your question. I did.”

“Good.” He hums, glancing back towards the open door, he takes a chance to lean down and kiss you softly. “Carol is a bitch. Don’t let her upset you. You’re fucking gorgeous.” He promises and steps back just as Justin from a few doors down walks by. Dave steps back into his office, knowing the days are ticking down and he has to make a plan. He can’t have this double life anymore

Dave doesn’t follow you home tonight. He tracks your phone, you know that, but he still insists that you text him the moment you get inside your house. You don’t even mention that he will know when you get home because he installed a camera system that alerts him to anyone showing up at the doors. As you’ve gotten further along, he’s gotten more protective. If you didn’t cling to the words he had told you months ago, you would think he’s paranoid about you doing something to get rid of the baby. Not that you could now. You love the little bean growing inside you and are looking forward to holding them. You wave to the camera when you unlock your front door, knowing that Dave will see it.

****

Carol cuts the engine to her car, just parked down the street from your house, and she gets out. She had to look up where you live and to her surprise, your home is registered under a corporation. The same one she knows her husband has his name to. She is curious about that. She makes her way to the front door, ringing the doorbell and waiting for you to answer.

Surprised that someone is ringing the doorbell, you wonder if it’s a package. Dave has been buying baby things online and sending them to the house. Your new maternity lounge clothes are comfortable and cute, highlighting your baby bump, so you don’t feel the need to change before you open the door. “Mrs. York!” Your eyes widen in surprise and you look behind her to see if Dave is with her. Why is she here? “May I help you?”

Carol pushes into the house, uncaring of your condition as she bumps into you. “I just wanted to see the place for myself. I mean…if my husband is the one paying for it, I should see what it’s like, right?” She scoffs, turning to face you.

Dread curls in your stomach, but you manage not to react. That’s what she’s here for, a reaction. “I don’t know what you mean.” You move towards your phone, even though the cameras are picking up everything in the house. “I’d like you to leave.”

Carol offers you a cocky smirk, “I don’t think so. Especially not when you’re carrying my husband’s baby. Have you always been a fat whore or did you just become that for my husband?” She asks, the grin still on her face. “Or are you just a gold digging cunt? Offering my husband a wet pussy to get a meal ticket? Too late honey, I already secured that bag.”

You swallow slightly, unable to figure out what she is planning. “I’m not-“ you shake your head. “I don’t know what you are talking about.” You repeat and put your hand protectively over your stomach. “I just want to live with my baby, alone.” You don’t want her to think that you are trying to take Dave away. You know where you’ve stood from the beginning.

Carol scoffs, “alone? As if. I see the way you look at my husband. All heart eyes. Waiting for the moment he decides to give you some attention. You can’t get a lot of it so you decided to move in on another woman’s husband. Pathetic.” She spits, “and got knocked up. Probably on purpose. I don’t know why Dave fucked you when he has me. Probably sympathy.”

“I admire your husband.” You clarify. “He’s not fucking me.” It’s a lie, but you can’t let her know that Dave is having an affair with you. “My baby is from a previous relationship. I work for your husband.” You pick up your phone and point towards the door. “Please leave, I won’t mention this to him.”

Carol doesn’t believe you. She saw the way Dave looked at you when she went to his office. She’s suspicious about why he has been so late coming home. She narrows her eyes and doesn’t realize that Dave is watching on the cameras, cursing his wife for going to the house. He grabs his keys and gets in his car, making his way over to your place with his phone still displaying the cameras. “You are a liar as well as a slut. Trying to steal my husband from me.” She hisses, tears stinging in her eyes.

“Honestly? I just want to have my baby and live my life.” You tell her quietly. “I’m sorry if you don’t believe me, but I’ve never tried to come between you and your husband.” You’ve never asked Dave for anything, not even now. You know that he’s not leaving his wife for you, even if he loves you. Even if you’re having his child. “Go home to your husband, Carol. This isn’t what you think it is.”

Carol doesn’t know what possesses her as she surges forward, a feral cry escapes her lips as she reaches out to wrap her hands around your neck just as the front door opens and Dave rushes in. “Carol! What the fuck?” He growls, reaching for her waist to drag her away from you.

You push her away as Dave drags her off of you, gasping for air and shaking as you realize this woman just attacked you. “You bitch! I’m gonna kill you! You and that fucking bastard in your fat stomach!” Carol screams as she tries to get away from her husband to launch herself at you again

Dave restrains her easily, pulling her back against him and saying her name. “Calm the fuck down!” He shouts at her as she struggles in his arms, “you fucker. You got her pregnant. I can’t - why- why would you do this?” Carol chokes, slumping back against him.

“I’m telling you, it’s not his baby!” You shout, not caring if Dave likes it or not. “He helped me get away from an abusive boyfriend.” You lie. “Putting me in this house so he couldn’t find me.” You know Dave doesn’t want to leave his family and you will protect him if you can.

Dave shakes his head, spinning Carol in his arms. “It’s my baby. I’ve been sleeping with her for months. It’s my house. I pay for her livelihood. Because - because I love her.” He confesses and Carol’s jaw drops. “You- you love her?” She chokes and Dave nods. His wife knows he doesn’t say that stuff casually. “I don’t - why?” Carol asks and Dave tuts, “you know why, Carol. You and the trainer. Like I don’t know. You’ve been cheating on me for years. I let it slide because of the girls, but I don’t love you. You don’t love me. I didn’t want to leave the girls.” He admits, “let’s be real here, you felt a change.”

“Dave…” you bite your lip, not wanting to get in the middle of their confessions but you didn’t want him to do that. You had been willing to let her believe it wasn’t Dave’s baby. Why would he ruin that? Your hand slides down to the baby bump, feeling them kick against your hand.

Carol’s lower lip quivers. She knows she can’t contain her husband. Never has been able to. He could make her disappear if he wanted to. “I- I didn’t - I did what I thought was best for the girls. I love Caleb. I didn’t - I’m sorry.” She chokes, tears stinging in her eyes.

“Then let’s not drag this out any longer. It’s over, Carol.” He declares and she nods, knowing she can’t stay married to him when you’re having his baby. It’s over.

You press your lips together, watching her pull away from him and look towards you. “Guess you get what you want after all.” She scoffs, but it’s not nearly as hateful as it once had been.

“I had no intention of taking him away from you and the girls.” You promise quietly, although it doesn’t matter now.

“Go home, Carol. The girls are with Sally next door. Go home and I’ll talk to you later so we can get the ball rolling for our divorce.” Dave declares and Carol nods, defeated. “Okay.” She looks back at you, “just don’t - don’t let this be for nothing.” She pleads, knowing her husband never truly loved her. Only married her because she got pregnant.

You swallow and nod, not saying anything right now. It would almost be disrespectful. You watch as she turns and quietly walks to the door, exiting much softer than she had ever entered. You can’t help but just stare at the door as it clicks closed and you exhale slowly.

Dave sighs, hands on his hips as he turns towards you. He stares at you for a moment before he steps closer, his hands reaching for you. “Are you okay? She didn’t hurt you?” He asks, eyebrows raised in concern

“No.” You shake your head and let him pull you close. “She didn’t hurt me. Dave- why didn’t you let me pretend it wasn’t your baby?” You ask. “The girls….you didn’t want to leave them.”

Dave sighs, resting his head on yours, “I didn’t have a choice. I can’t keep pretending like I don’t want to be here with you every night in your bed. I couldn’t lie. We made this baby.” His hand slides down to your belly, “I couldn’t lie about that. I love you. Carol and I- it was over a long time ago.”

You sigh and cover his hand with yours. “I didn’t want to come between you and your family.” You repeat softly, wanting him to understand that. “But I wanted you in bed beside me too. I love you.”

He kisses you softly, breathing you in. "I gotta go deal with Carol later but I promise you, after I deal with her, I am here to stay." Dave vows, "I wanted to give you something." He murmurs, reaching into his pocket after letting go of you. He pulls out a small velvet box. "Dave." You gasp, "what is that?" He opens it to display a beautiful ring. "It's a promise. I can't give you everything right now, but I promise you I will. When I can."

You lean in and kiss him, amazed that the once hard and rough man who fucked you ruthlessly is promising you the world. You have no doubt that he will still fuck you until you are weak once you’ve recovered from the baby, but for now, he is tender and more importantly, he loves you. “I’m yours, baby.” You whisper against his lips. “Forever.”

****

"Alice! Slow down!" Dave calls out to his daughter as she rushes past him chasing Molly. His son is in his arms, a whimper escaping the baby's lips and Dave smiles, cooing to the little boy. "Baby, you ready to go?" Dave asks, knowing you are nervous to leave the kids alone but Carol is taking the girls for the weekend and the baby is going to your mom's for the evening so Dave can take you out for dinner.

“Just a second!” You know that Dave is eager to leave, but you take another second to readjust your dress. It’s the red one that you had worn before you got pregnant. Maybe a little tighter than before, but you wanted to look good for him. Biting your lips before you apply the same shade lipstick. It’s just dinner, but it’s the first time you’ve gone out since having the baby. Since Dave’s officially moved in and the divorce has been final. It was amazing how quickly they got things settled and now, he lives with you and your son. Blotting your lips with a sliver of toilet paper, you rush out of the bathroom and out into the living room. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Dave's eyes widen at the sight of you. "You look fucking amazing." He says quietly as he walks over to you, not saying it too loud for the girls. "I can't wait to take it off of you later." He murmurs, his dark eyes trailing over your figure and he leans in to kiss you, mindful of the baby between you. Your mom knew about you being pregnant but you kept it secret that it was Dave's until the divorce was final. Your mom wasn't pleased about you sleeping with a married man but her distaste of him is outweighed by her love for her grandson. "Girls, we gotta get in the car. Grab your backpacks!" Dave calls out before he turns back to you, "his diaper bag is ready and he's been fed."

“You are amazing.” Dave has been the best kind of hands on father. He’s done diaper changes, sleepless nights, midnight feedings, all without a single breath or complaint. He was born to be a father, you are utterly convinced of that. Kissing his lips lightly, you giggle and reach up to wipe the smudge of red off. “Want me to put him in his car seat?” You ask.

Dave nods, "you take him. I'll get the girls." He winks and strides off to wrangle his daughters. "Come on ladies, gotta go. Your mom is waiting for you." He orders and they grab their backpacks and head into the garage. Dave straps them into their booster seats and blows a raspberry on Alice's cheek, making her giggle. He checks the baby seat and turns to look at you as you carry his son into the garage.

“He’s about ready to fall asleep.” You smile as you hand him the car seat to latch into the base. Watching as Dave carefully locks him into the SUV he insisted you be upgraded to, saying that it was only fair when it would be the car you used when having the girls. You hadn’t argued, but thought him getting a Mercedes was a little much.

Dave opens the door for you, closing it after you're settled, and he rounds the car to get in. He starts the engine and looks in the mirror at his children. With a smile, he sets off to drop the kids off. Carol is cool but cordial as the girls arrive at her house and it doesn't take long to drive to your mom's house to drop off the baby. "I know you hate leaving him but he will be fine." Dave reaches for your hand, squeezing it.

“I know.” You are so very grateful that Dave has been so understanding about your first time mother’s nerves. “Mom loves him to pieces and it will be good to have a meal where I’m not covered in formula or spit up.” You laugh. “I love him so much.”

Dave chuckles, "they grow up so fast. Enjoy the spit up...believe it or not, you'll miss it." He promises and you snort, "we will see." Dave waits in the car while you drop the baby off, watching your mom glare at him slightly but her face softens when she sees the baby and that's all that matters to him. When you get back in the car, he begins the journey to the restaurant he booked. "He didn't even blink when I left." You huff playfully and Dave chuckles, "that's not a bad thing." He squeezes your hand again and when he pulls up outside of the restaurant, he gets out and rounds the car, opening the door for you before the valet can.

You smile as Dave helps you out of the car, finding it amazing for your self esteem for him to so proudly claim you as his. He doesn’t mind that people know in the office, he holds you close in stores. He’s not ashamed of your size. “Thank you, baby.” You coo softly, giving him a flirty smile. You have been cleared for sex again, although you and Dave haven’t yet. You hope that’s why he wanted to bring you out to dinner.

He thanks the valet and escorts you inside, giving his name for the reservation and soon enough, you're seated at the table. He orders a bottle of champagne and your eyebrows raise, "well, you stopped breastfeeding so figured you could celebrate with something nice." He says, "and tonight is about us."

“It is?” You pick up your water and take a sip as you wait on the champagne. “What do you have in mind for us?” You know that Dave has been happy, at least you think he is. He’s been smiling and the girls actually enjoy coming over. They are obsessed with their little brother, and you couldn’t be happier about that.

The champagne is poured, you order your food, and Dave has a soft smile on his face as he watches you. "You look gorgeous tonight, baby." He murmurs, reaching for your hand.

“I’m just happy I fit into the dress.” You admit with a small shrug. Carol’s words had hurt, just like anytime someone had degraded you because of your weight, but Dave told you that you are beautiful so many times, you might actually believe it. “You do make big babies.”

Dave chuckles, "maybe the next one won’t be big." He hasn't made it a secret that he wants another baby with you. He loves seeing you pregnant. You smirk, "give me a chance to recover, baby." He nods, knowing it won't be too soon. "We got time, sweetheart." He promises and shifts to get out of his chair. "That's why I brought you here tonight. I wanted to ask you something." He kneels down, a small box in his hand. "You are incredible. A kind, gorgeous woman that somehow loves me. You are the most incredible mother, partner, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you and protecting our family. Will you marry me?" He asks, opening the box.

You swallow, looking from the ring to his eyes. “Dave….” You whisper, not really expecting him to propose, even though he had promised you the world. “Of course I will marry you.” You agree quickly, starting to cry from happiness.

He grins, surging forward to press his lips to yours. You respond eagerly and diners around you applaud while Dave pulls back to get the ring, sliding it onto your finger. He kisses the back of your hand before he kisses you again, "I love you."

“I love you too.” You promise, unable to believe that you are engaged to marry this man. He’s got a dark side, of course he does, but he’s also sweet and generous and loving. “The ring is beautiful.”

Dave is happy that you love the ring. He kisses you once more before you sit back down. The waiter comes over with dessert and a “congratulations" and Dave can't stop smiling as you dig into the dessert with him.

It’s probably a normal thing to be hyper aware of the ring on your finger. You catch a glance of it every time you take a sip of champagne. “God, this is perfect.” You moan as you take another bite of the chocolatey dessert. “Orgasmic.”

He smirks, “took the word right out of my mouth.” He watches you admire the ring, and he is glad you love it. You finish the dessert and he pays the bill, eagerly to get you home. You look delicious in that dress. He loves it. He can’t wait to get you out of it. “I am gonna go to the bathroom before we leave.” You declare, eager to get Dave home too and he nods as you get up to go to the bathroom. The waiter congratulates him again and Dave thanks him, standing up after a few moments. You’re washing your hands when the door opens and Dave clicks the lock. “Dave?” You gasp and he steps over to stand behind you. “Sweetheart.” He murmurs, kissing your neck.

You can’t help but tilt your head to the side so he can do whatever he wants. Just because you haven’t been able to have sex hasn’t meant you didn’t want to. There have been a couple of times you’ve blown him since the baby has been born. He’s rubbed your clit until you’ve cum, but the sexual touches have been limited. You know what his intentions are. His lips are curved into a smirk as he kisses your skin and his already hard cock is pressed against your ass. “Dave.” You whimper, reaching back to squeeze his hard length and your cunt clenches when he twitches in your hand. “We shouldn’t.” You protest mildly, knowing you will let him do whatever he wants to you, just like he always has.

“We should.” He declares, kissing along your neck while his hands reach down to squeeze your tits through your dress. “We can’t be long. I’m gonna fuck you here and then spend all night eating that gorgeous pussy out.” He promises, “my fiancée. Gonna make you feel good.” He vows, his hands sliding lower so he can drag your dress up your hips. “Tell me no.” He pleads, kissing your shoulder, wanting you to be comfortable. Such a difference from the man who took what he wanted from you before.

Your answer is to push your ass back against his cock, grinding it against him to hear him moan quietly. You know that he’s been eager to touch you, and you honestly want him too. His sparkly new ring on your finger, it’s the perfect way to cap off the night. “Fuck me, baby.”

Dave groans, shoving your dress up higher and his fingers hook into your panties, dragging them down your thighs. You got an IUD placed after having the baby so he knows it's safe to cum inside of you again. Your panties drop to your ankles and he steps back so he can unbuckle his belt and pull his throbbing cock out.

You watch in the mirror, groaning when you see him pump his cock. Your desire hasn’t diminished, at all, only heightening as he sleeps beside you every night. “Fuck.” You whimper, knowing the pinch of him filling you again will be amazing. “Hurry baby, we don’t want to be caught.”

Dave groans as he slides the head of his cock through your folds, loving how wet you are. He pushes into you slowly, not wanting to hurt you, and he rests his head on your shoulder, trying to keep it slow since you’re still recovering.

It’s a lot, you’re panting from the way that he fills you. Your fingers curl around the sink edge and you moan quietly. “Fuck, baby. You’re so thick inside me.” You praise him softly. “Missed this so much.”

He groans when your walls flutter around his cock. His hands slide up to cup your tits, squeezing them through your dress and your bra. "Shit. You feel - you're my little slut again. Aren't you? All mine. Only mine." He growls softly into your neck, biting down a little on the skin as the wave of possession surges through him.

You moan quietly, nodding your head quickly. “Only yours.” You promise, panting as you clench down around him again. “Your slut. Only yours, baby.”

He loves hearing it. Knowing it’s his baby, his ring on your finger. His cock inside of you. He groans your name and pushes into you, a little harder, “fuck. You feel so good. I’ve missed those.”

You whimper quietly, having felt the same. You’ve missed the physicality of being joined with him. He manages to smooth your insecurities and your doubts with his lusty, rough manner. Though he’s being more gentle than he was even the last time you had sex before the baby was born. “Love you.” You gasp, pushing your hips back. “Use me.”

He grunts, knowing that you wouldn’t say it unless you meant it. He grabs your waist, pushing into you again and again, your hips and belly hitting the counter. “Fuck. Feel so good, baby. Don’t have much time. What do you need?” He growls, his hand sliding up to squeeze your tit.

“Choke me.” You beg quietly. He wouldn’t put his hand on your throat while you were pregnant, not even once. You’ve missed when he controls your breathing and your cunt quivers around him at the mere idea.

He nods, sliding his hand higher until he’s gripping your throat. “That’s it baby.” He groans when he feels you clench around him. He loves it. He loves how filthy you are. He thrusts into you a little harder, pushing deep.

You gasp out a little sound before you bite your lip, knowing you have to keep quiet. Holding onto the sink while your fiancé squeezes your neck and starts fucking into you at a quick pace.

He clenches his jaw, squeezing your neck a little tighter. He wants you to cum. He wants you to fall apart around him so he can watch you in the mirror. Cock twitching inside of you, he is close himself and he wants you to cum first.

It’s been so long, the flex of his hand around your neck makes you come apart. Cry catching in your throat, you make a strangled sound as you soak his cock, shaking as he rocks into you.

He groans at the way you clamp down on his cock, soaking him, and he hisses through his teeth when you grip him in a vice. He struggles to continue fucking into you, his grip loosening around your neck but his jaw clenches as he pushes into you a half dozen times until he thrusts deep and pulses as he cums inside of you, painting your walls.

You shiver in delight, enjoying the heat from his cum filling you. “Fuck, Dave.” You whisper quietly, closing your eyes and leaning back against his broad frame.

He turns your head to kiss you, caressing your cheek, and he starts to soften inside you. “Too good. Missed this.” He murmurs, caressing your side. “Shall we go home?” He asks, slowly pulling out of you and reaching for the napkins.

“Yes.” You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck. “Pick up the baby, put him to bed and then I want to suck my fiancé’s cock.”

Dave groans, loving how eager you are. He leans in to kiss you, his hands finding your ass and he only pulls back because the door rattles. “Come on baby, let’s go get our boy and go home. After we are married, we will work on the next baby.” He smirks, smacking your ass after he pulls your panties up. He might be a killer but he’s found the woman who knows him, all of him, and he won’t let you go. He’d kill to protect what is his. No matter what it takes. You’re the woman he needs.

#pedro pascal #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x f!reader #dave york smut #dave york imagine #dave york fanfiction #the equalizer 2

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pimosworld · 1 year ago

Note

Hi it’s me!! Since you are open to requests, could you please do a very fluffy smut with Joel where the reader is very insecure about her body and he makes her feel loved and it’s just so sweet?? In need of a comfort daddy Joel 🥺

Pairing- Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary- Joel wants you to see your body the way he does, a work of art.

CW-18+, MDNI, NSFW, A smidge of angst because (body image issues), Fluff,miscommunication, reader is not described other than not feeling herself lately, Soft dom Joel, smut, body worship, mirror sex, fingering, unprotected piv, cream pie, self acceptance, no use of y/n

WC-2.0k

[Joel Miller Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

A\N- My first Joel request and I would say I was feeling inspired by some body issues I’ve had lately. Thank you anon for this lovely request I hope I did it justice.

Clothing optional

There was a war going on in your house. Two separate wars to be exact, although you personally had no idea about one of them.

You’re currently on the frontlines in your room with a pile of mass casualties on the floor beside you. As you stand and face the mirror in front of you it’s unclear who the enemy is. Logic would have you believe it’s the clothes, the clothes that fit not long ago…that much you’re sure of. The cruel part of your brain, the part you couldn’t seem to shut off was telling you the enemy was your body. This body that has carried you through life, through ups and downs, through grief and happiness. Yet you stand here and shame it, calling it the enemy.

This dress, one that you were never really that fond of but could always rely on it fitting was the straw that broke the camel's back. It hugs in all the wrong places and definitely seems shorter than you remembered the last time you put it on. The lace at the seams is frayed a little and you swore you heard a stitch pop when you tried to unzip yourself. Now you’re frozen in fear that you’re stuck in this godforsaken thing and you’ve still not figured out what you’re wearing to impress Joel’s business partners. He was always so put together, what could they possibly think of you by his side.

“Sugar ya in there?” A knock on the bedroom door and Joel’s sweet voice causes you to panic.

You’re not even close to being ready. Tears streaming down your face, makeup ruined and your claustrophobia is aching to get out of this dress.

“Don’t come in.” Your garbled voice is evident all rushed out in a frenzy as you hear the door swing open.

****

The other war.

A war that’s been silently brewing in the house over the last few weeks. Joel noticed something different about you. It took him a lot longer than he’d cared to admit once he realized. He knew your body in and out. Every freckle, every line, every scar or birthmark. He’d made it his mission in life to be able to pick you out of a lineup blindfolded, only tasked with his hands or his mouth.

He was insatiable for you.

He never understood when other men would say that after some time you won’t be as obsessed with each other. After marriage things become monotonous and it feels like a chore. He loved chores, being able to complete a task. If loving you and worshiping your body was a chore then he wanted that duty everyday.

At first he thought he must’ve said or done something to upset you. He knew his mouth could be pretty reckless at times so he gave you a few days to cool off.

When you shy away from him or insisted your shirt stayed on during sex he started to grow suspicious. Maybe he hadn’t told you enough how much he appreciated your body. He thought he did a pretty good job of it but things get complicated when you’re in the heat of the moment. He made your brain go all fuzzy and it was hard to concentrate on what he was sayin’.

He’d had just about had enough when he walked into the kitchen the other day. You were reaching something high up on the shelf. Instead of asking if you needed help he just stood there ogling you as your shorts rode up, exposing the bottom of your ass. He wanted to sink his teeth into it. He wanted to grip your thighs and bend you over the counter. He could just imagine it as he pounded into you from behind while you screamed his name, the ripples from his thrusts dancing across your skin. You looked so startled when you saw him there, his eyes blown black with lust as he stepped towards you. His heart broke a little when you scurried away and returned aggressively wrapping your robe around you.

****

A peace offering.

You knew there was no way he was staying outside at any sign of your distress. He enters your shared bedroom slowly like he’s approaching a frightened animal. You’re sure you look like one in your state.

He’s quite the opposite. Crisp black on black suit, his hair combed back out of his face to show off those beautiful brown eyes. His cologne wafts towards you with hints of bergamot and cedar wood. Just the sight of him has you weak in the knees.

“You wanna tell me what’s got ya all worked up?” He takes a tentative step towards you as you shake your head and wrap your arms around yourself.

He clicks his tongue, hating how defeated you look right now. “Listen sugar, I’m gonna count to ten.” He gently unfurls your arms from you and wraps them around his middle. “And by the time I get to ten.” You take a shuddering breath against his chest relishing in the comfort he’s bringing you. “You’re gonna tell me what’s wrong.”

“One.”

“None of my clothes fit, I hate the way I look right now and I don’t want to embarrass you tonight because I look ridiculous standing next to you in some dress that I hate.” It’s all rushed out and muffled into his chest as he cradles your head and rocks you back and forth.

“Is that all?” He teases as you nod your head. “I’m thinkin’ maybe there’s a little more.”

“Two.”

“Well…the other day.” You let out an exasperated sigh as you look up at him. “You were starin’ at me, in the kitchen. I couldn’t tell what you were thinking, but it didn’t look good.”

He thinks for a moment, back to his thoughts in the kitchen and you must have read him all wrong.

Joel steps back from you briefly as he undoes his tie, letting it drop to the floor. “The other day in the kitchen.” His hands start to work at the buttons on his dress shirt as he shucks it off his broad shoulders. “I wasn’t tryin’ to stare. I was tryin’ to keep my hands to myself.”

Your breathing picks up as he undoes the buckle on his slacks and lets them join the rest of his clothes. He palms himself through his boxers, his hard length growing at the slightest touch.

“Joel, what are you doing?” He doesn’t answer you as his hands grip your shoulders turning you toward the mirror. “We’re gonna be late for the dinner.”

He leans in, taking your earlobe between his teeth as you gasp. “We’re not goin’ to the dinner sweetheart.” Joel’s eyes lock with yours in the mirror as he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Do ya see how beautiful you are?”

His grip stops you from shaking your head no and you figure you might as well get with the program now, since he’s being so generous.

“You wanna do this your way or my way?” He asks with an eyebrow raised in question.

“Your way?” You shakily answer as he smiles all wide and kisses your cheek.

His hands make quick work of the zipper that was stuck and he eases it down your back. Carefully dragging it down your body, letting the fabric pool at your feet. His hand kneads your breast and soft whimper leaves your lips as it trails down your stomach. “You weren’t plannin on wearin’ any panties to this event?” His fingers dip lower circling your clit just barely teasing you.

“I…I hadn’t gotten around to them yet.” Your voice is shaky as he winds his other arm around you pulling you taught to his chest.

“Well good thing…you won’t be needin’ em tonight.” His words send a shiver down your spine as you stand there, naked as the day you were born trying to stay afloat. “Now, I asked you if you see how beautiful you are?”

“Yes.” You moan out as he slips two fingers inside, chuckling to himself as he works you open.

You cry out at the loss as he pulls them from you, holding them out in front of your face. It’s lewd the way he licks his fingers and his grip on you tightens as your legs threaten to give out at the sight.

“You want me to show ya’ what I was thinkin’ about in the kitchen?” Rhetorical question of course but you're feverishly nodding your head all the same.

He places a soft kiss to your neck as he guides you to the bed. Neither of you trusting your feet to carry you there. “Lay down for me baby girl. Face me.” You lay down on your stomach, resting your head on your arms as you watch him place the mirror near the edge of the bed.

His fingers tug down his boxers and it surprises you every time, the sheer weight of him. His cock twitches at the sight as if it knows you’re looking, admiring as you stop yourself from reaching at the angry red tip to swipe your finger through the bead of precum leaking out.

The bed dips behind you as he straddles your thighs. You can see him in the mirror watching you as you wiggle your ass, that fight part of your brain no longer concerned with the way you look. Not with the way he’s looking at you. Like he wants to eat you alive.

His fingers grip your flesh as he tilts your hips up, he’s rock hard as he slides the tip through your aching folds. You clench around nothing as you try to draw him in.

“Eyes on the prize baby.” You tear your eyes from him as you catch yours in the mirror. He wants you to watch, but not him.

You’re the prize.

He sinks down in one fluid motion and it takes every fiber of your being to keep your eyes open. You both moan in unison as he starts a slow agonizing pace.

Joel watches you as long as he can but he can’t tear his eyes away from the ripple of your skin as he pounds your flesh. Hitting something deep and devastating inside you as you clutch the sheets. Soft chants of his name punched out in his thrusts as he tries to hold off his release. It feels too good and just like his daydream. Having you bent over all fucked out, unable to form a coherent through. The only thought he wants running through that head is how perfect you are.

“Oh fuck…I’m the luckiest man alive, ya know that.” He grits out as he meets your eyes again.

His strong hands haul you up against his chest as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. All you can manage is a head nod as you keen at this new angle.

You can feel the beads of sweat from his hair drip down onto you as you cling to his arms, he growls in your ear as your climax peaks over you, taking you by surprise as you cry out his name.

“This pussy was made for me darlin’.”

He can feel you suck him in and his balls draw up tight. Your front bathed in a sheen of sweat down your breasts and across your stomach as you ride out the aftershocks. His hips slow to a stutter as he holds your prone and pliant body, pulsing inside you as you let out a soft exhale.

You’re completely and utterly wrecked and he thinks you’re like one of those renaissance paintings with the naked ladies. Better than that because you’re real and you’re all his.

It takes you a moment to gather yourself as you lay there, Joel’s hand draped over your body at the edge of the bed. You can finally look in the mirror and see the war that was waging was all on your head.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

#joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x f!reader #joel x reader #soft joel miller #joel the last of us #joelmiller #tlou imagine #joel miller fanfiction

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sizzlingcloudmentality · 4 months ago

Text

yes, ma'am

Dave York x dominatrix!reader | 9.5k w | explicit, mdni | ao3

summary: life goes sideways and Dave is close to snapping. he needs professional help. aka let himself be dominated and be at the receiving end for once. good thing he has your number.

warnings: sub-ish!Dave (how sub can a born dom be?), dominatrix!reader, no use of y/n, reader is able-bodied, Dave is a good husband and father™️, Molly throwing up, slight humiliation (the boy being called dummy <3), slight ball torture, (guided) masturbation (m), finger sucking, petnames (ma'am, good boy, love), cum eating, slight shoe worship, dick+pussy pronouns, reader wears lipstick, nail polish and stilettos, squint and you miss unprotected PinV; dm me if I missed any

a/n: my submission for @wannab-urs dmamc 2025. i had so much fun domming my man and I tried to make it believable because, well, he's Dave 'the dom' York. enjoy another character study including his dick. thank you @guiltyasdave for the beta and constant love, even though sub!Dave isn't your cup of tea 🥹💛

"Gentle eyes, soft words, tender chin scratches. You have his tail wagging. Slowly, slowly you are domesticating him into a dog, one praise at a time."

“Fuck!” His hand slams down on the steering wheel, once, twice. Again, again, again, until his palm hurts and the thrumming pain helps him to push aside the anger boiling inside of him. He rips down his beanie, ripping out a few hairs as well, not giving a shit about it.

He fucked up. If it wasn’t for his partner the mission would have gone south completely, pulling him along. The plan had been perfect, the preparations perfect as well. All he had to do was to pull the trigger and take the target out. But he fucking missed. He fucking missed. Hit the target into the shoulder, and if Dave’s partner didn’t take initiative and put a bullet through the target's head… He doesn’t want to think about it.

He already saw his domestic life passing before his eyes. The police arresting him at home, his daughters terrified and not understanding why they would take their daddy away. Carol at the trial, being questioned if she really didn’t know about her husband’s assassination side hustle, her face puffy and red from crying.

Dave hisses out another curse, hitting the hard wheel in front of him again.

He could always just disappear, always has an emergency duffle bag stowed away with fake IDs and some cash. But he wouldn't stomach it, couldn't stomach it, leaving his family behind.

It was a close call today… He starts the engine and pulls away from the curb, the tail lights of his inconspicuous car slowly blending in with the dozens of others on the nightly roads as he heads home to his inconspicuous life.

The next few days were difficult, to say the least. His higher up at the CIA was a pain in the ass, deadlines were piling up, Molly got sick and needed attention and care, Carol needed his support, the almost-failed mission was still breathing down his neck… He needed a break and there was no break in sight. Not now. His family needs him, his job does, he needs to fucking function now.

“Daddy, ‘m not feeling good,” Molly mumbles, curled up on the couch, her head in Dave’s lap while he’s working on a report on his laptop.

“Just a second, baby.” He’s almost done, he just needs a minute and the worst part of his report would be finished. Molly stirs on the couch, hastily now. God damnit.

“Daddy…” Her little body starts trembling and with a shudder and a sound that makes Dave’s heart hurt, she slumps over and pukes. All over his notes. Over his pants he had just picked up from the dry cleaning. All over the cream colored couch that Carol wanted so badly and that looks like shit now. All over his laptop. The screen flickers a last time before it goes dark.

“I'm so sorry… Please don't be mad, Daddy.” Molly starts crying, feeling sick and miserable, her little hands shaking as she grips her ruined blanket.

The vein on his neck, he feels it throbbing. His laptop, his fucking work laptop, broken. The sticky, disgusting warmth of what once was chicken soup seeps through his trousers and makes his eyelid twitch.

Just pick your baby up, just comfort her, just help her change into new pajamas, just be a good father, just be good…

“Daddy?” She sounds so fragile, her voice nothing more than a weak breath. She clumsily pushes herself up and accidentally nudges the laptop off of Dave’s knees. The carpet swallows the low thud when it hits the ground, but the cracking of the screen is still very much audible, just as much as Molly’s shocked gasp.

“You broke it. You fucking broke it, Molly,” Dave hisses and is on his feet in an instant, his daughter toppling back onto the couch, now crying even more because she upset her dad.

He doesn’t look over to her but picks up his laptop, trying to bring it back to life. The muscles in his jaw clench when Molly’s sobs start pealing in his eardrums. Dave turns towards her, a barked shut up already on his tongue when Carol appears in the doorway.

One quick look is enough for her to assess the situation. Their crying daughter, a picture of misery and guilt written all over her pale face and Dave, nostrils flared and one hand balled into a fist, the unmistakable smell of vomit reaching her nose… No, this wasn’t good.

“It'll take it from here, Dave,” she says when she strides past him. “Go and calm down.” There's no bite to her words, bite wouldn't do any good at this moment. It would only make it worse, make Dave lose the last bits of reason.

Carol scoops Molly up in her arms, pressing a few soothing kisses to the little girl’s temple. She looks over her shoulder and gestures towards the door with a tilt of her chin as if to say please, just go.

And he does. He flees from the living room and the feeling of shame that starts licking at his insides. It gets too much. A thought crosses his mind, a simple calculation, it has been almost ten months since…

A shiver runs through him and he shakes the idea off his mind like a dog tries to shake off an annoying tick. No, he wouldn't need to do it this time, there sure is another possibility to finally get a grip on his life. He just needs to focus more. Needs a better sleep regimen. More training. More protein. More control over all the small bits and pieces of his life.

Dave shuts the door to his home gym behind him and gets to work. If his muscles are trembling and his lungs are begging him for air, he has no time to think about what kind of an asshole father and husband he is. And so he starts tormenting his body to shut off his mind, to keep the guilt and shame at bay. For now.

That night, when he slips under the bed sheets, almost silently to not wake his sleeping wife, the idea creeps back into his head. Like a tick it has sunk its teeth into his skin and he can’t seem to get rid of it since the first time he has done… it.

It has helped him before, more than he likes to admit it. But he hates it. Because he cannot do it on his own. Because he needs someone else doing it for him, to him. And Dave never liked to be dependent on something or someone.

The sheets rustle and Carol’s hand finds his own, wrapping her fingers around his in the darkness as if she was trying to comfort him. But in reality she wanted his comfort and soothing. Dave wasn't a man who was dependent. Because he always was the man everyone else depended on.

He turns on his side and lifts her hand to his lips to press a gentle kiss to Carol’s knuckles.

She hums, shuffles closer, her feet slipping between his calves. After a moment of content silence a murmur crawls over the pillows to Dave and settles right on his chest, where the thought about it sits and gnaws at him like a night terror.

“Maybe… maybe you should go see that therapist again? They really helped you the last time.”

Therapist. That was what he told his wife you were. And the things you did, it was therapy. It is, in a way. It helped him. And he hates that it does. He hates that he can’t function like he needs to. He hates that Carol sounds so timid when she suggests therapy, afraid that he could snap at her, too, because she dares to point out his weakness.

He sighs, her soft knuckles still held against his lips. “Is Molly okay?”

“She’s a little better, yes.”

The silence weighs heavy for a moment, Carol’s unanswered question pressing down on Dave’s rib cage. Or is it the feeling of guilt? About being a shit show of a father and husband? About needing you to function, even if it all feels so wrong but afterwards it always feels good and right and he feels better, every damn time?

“I'll make an appointment,” he murmurs and his lips find her ring finger, kissing the spot where the simple golden band always sits. She never takes the ring off, just like him. Carol nestles into his arms, the relief clear when she whispers her thank you, I love you into the hollow between his clavicles. God, he is such a failure, he thinks to himself with his wife in his arms and you in his mind.

You are completely booked out. Months ahead. Of course you are. There never is a shortage of people who want your services. Or to be exact, who need them. So when you received the request for an appointment “asap, ma'am”, signed by David York, you told him you were free again in three months. But then another customer canceled their session and because you like David, you give preference to him.

So a week and a half later you find yourself entering the bar of the Rosewood, one of the finest hotels of the city. Doors magically open because there’s always some finance or marketing guy holding them open for you. Each step with your pointy high heels parts the crowd in front of you and is paved with sleek smiles and licked lips of the men who move out of your way.

You pay them no mind, they only exist at the periphery of your focus. They are not important and will never be. What is important is your customer for this day. You recognize him, the way he sits at the bar, one foot on the footrest of the empty stool next to him, the other one firmly planted onto the ground. Just another pretty man in a suit, interchangeable for most who might look at him.

But for you he was different. A customer, first and foremost. A challenge, too. And he's probably the only man in this bar who is not doubling over to get a crumb of your attention. You had to work for what your customers usually give you gladly and freely: their acceptance and sometimes even devotion.

That is why you like Dave York, because working for him and with him is rewarding. It satisfies you to no end to finally turn his smoothness into something with cracks and weaknesses. And to have him thank you for it.

One of the many men in suits in this bar moves from his place on the outer borders of your attention into the spotlight and obscures the view on Dave. The guy looks you up and down, tries to smile a flirty smile but all you see is a pathetic obstacle. Your mouth already opens to tell him no to whatever suggestion he wants to make, when a big hand lands on the man's shoulder.

Thick fingers, blunt nails, a simple golden wedding band. You look past the surprised strangers face and find Dave, standing behind the man.

“Sorry buddy, not tonight,” Dave tells the man. For a moment they look at each other, like two wolves who found a piece of meat and now silently fight for ownership. Two alphas in suits. But only one of them is a wolf, the other one is just a dog.

“Not ever,” you add when you pass the stranger. The sting of your words gets soothed by your sweet smile, showing off your wolfish canines as you do. Your gaze meets Dave’s own. Two alphas looking at each other again, this time both are wolves.

You don't even bother to care about the other man who disappeared into insignificance as quickly as he had the guts to peek his head out of it. Your focus is solely on Dave now. He looks tired, frail even in the small details of his facial expression. He already looks cracked, maybe you wouldn’t have to work as hard as usual today.

“It has been a while.” You sit down at the bar and Dave gestures for the bartender. He always orders you a drink before you both go up to the booked suite. He never not acts according to the unspoken rules of those kinds of arrangements. He is polite and respectful, even if the air around him very much tastes like aversion. Not against you as a person or the work you do. The aversion is directed against himself and the fact that he was sitting in this bar with you and not at home with whoever was waiting there for him.

He nods his head. That would have to do as an answer. “The usual?” he asks instead when the bartender waits for the order.

“The usual,” you confirm and watch Dave order your vodka on ice. It is a nice change of pace, to not talk and to enjoy the silence, to stretch it like a fabric until it becomes see-through and the silent words between them become audible. Two wolves, dressed in white shirts and blouses, in polished shoes, mustering each other over the rims of their glasses. Sizing each other up.

You take a big sip of your vodka and set the glass down. There’s still a good portion of the booze left, but you need to keep a clear mind for what comes next.

“Are you done?”

Usually he obliges and leaves the rest of his drink on the counter, usually he wants to get over and done with it, with you, with himself. But tonight his need for some more liquid courage is bigger.

“Not yet, ma'am.” His legs spread a little more when he leans back on the barstool. Not in a sleazy manner, not to act like he is hung like a horse. No, taking up space comes naturally to him. And again he is respectful about it. He gives your crossed legs enough room between his thighs, almost like he acts as a buffer between the bustling bar and you.

A thought crosses your mind and makes you smile. He is protective, even though you mean nothing to him. You stretch out your leg, just enough to let the tip of your pointed stiletto brush against his shin. A silent praise for him being good.

Dave’s hand suddenly grabs your ankle, following his first impulse of inhibiting an unwanted touch. Your eyes snap up and meet his, your surprise showing in your raised brows. The grip of his fingers loosens immediately, like he touched something that he wasn’t allowed to, like a too hot cookie fresh from the baking tray.

“Finish your drink then.” A demand dressed up as a friendly request. You pull your foot away, Dave’s privilege of getting a feel for you is already over.

“Yes, ma'am,” he says lowly, just loud enough to be heard over the hustle and bustle of the bar. He swirls his drink in his glass and takes another look at you. You look like some partner in a law firm or some higher up shoving around numbers on paper and employees in meetings. Expensive clothes, expensive designer bags, expensive heels. He had seen them often enough to know that you only wear those 700$ pairs. You’re sleek, smooth, polished, with edges that look round and safe to touch but will cut through skin and flesh if you want to.

He takes a sip of his drink and watches you smile, the red lip stretching over your teeth. He feels a part of him getting excited, this one stupid part of himself, the part which constantly makes troubles. Some corner of his brain just loves this. And apparently needs it too, needs it to make him function as a person. This little part loves to make you smile. And he hates it.

You let him finish his drink, let him buy himself a few more minutes before you leave the bar and enter the grand and shiny hotel lobby. Having people move out of your way just by the way your heels click is satisfying. But having someone in front doing it for you is better. You watch Dave plowing through the lobby as he makes his way to the elevators. His ass looks cute, you think to yourself and enter the cabin with him.

He’s so well behaved for you, pressing the buttons, shielding you from the other guests and making sure you can stand comfortably without anyone standing too close to you, himself included, You smile at him again and for a moment one corner of his lips twitch. Good, that's good. He's responsive tonight.

Dave exits the elevator and struts through the long hallway, countless doors left and right until you reach the right one. A quiet beep when the key card opens the door, muffled footfall on the thick carpet and a discreet click when he closes and locks the door behind you both again. Another reason you love this hotel so much, beside the soft beds and high end shower products in the marble bathrooms: the soundproofing.

No matter how hard the stomp, how loud a scream, how sharp a smack, the walls of these rooms seem to swallow the noises and they are never sated. They drink down every word and whisper and always seem to want more. Like the people you work with.

“Tell me about your rules and limits tonight, David,” you say and look around the suite for a moment. You gesture for him to sit down on one of the plush chairs facing a full body mirror.

All you know about Dave is his name, his phone number and another number as an emergency contact. The rest is guesswork you did over the last months and years. The golden ring on his ring finger? He never takes it off. He's married or maybe widowed.

Dave takes off his jacket and hangs it over the backrest of the velvet chair. One time a little toy figurine fell out of his pocket when he took his jacket off. So there must be a child who he has a close enough relationship with for it to sneak little gifts into his pockets. This time nothing out of the ordinary happens. He simply follows your instructions and sits down.

“The same as always.” He lifts his hips again to tug his slacks down, just enough for them to not cut into his groin. “Nothing that leaves marks on me, no touching me between waist and knees, no restraints, no gagging, nothing enters my body, nothing leaves my body without my consent.”

Yeah, just like you thought. “So basically just talking. You know, you could have ‘just talking’ a lot cheaper, down at the bar for example.” You pull a chair for yourself closer to Dave, with the mirror diagonal behind it.

“I'm not here for just talking,” he says quietly with his eyes fixed on his knees.

“Oh I know, don't you worry.” You sit down now, your legs crossed over your knees and one of your high heels swaying in the air just between Dave's spread legs. “Next: safety. Repeat the rules for me, will you?”

He looks up at you and sighs. “We use the color system. Green means more, yellow means keeping the intensity, red means stop.” He likes the simplicity of this system, appreciates it at home, and loves the way Carol loses it whenever he keeps her on yellow for a little too long. But he doesn’t like to be the one using it himself.

“Good. What else means stop?” Your leg is slowly bouncing up and down and Dave's focus shifts to the pencil thin heel for a moment.

“The… the safeword. Helsinki.”

His eyes meet yours again. Dark ponds of raging brown, the storm behind them perfectly contained, for now. “And…?” you prompt, prodding him a little bit with the sweetness in your voice.

“And there's no shame in using my safeword. Or not using it if I'm… feeling good.” He almost chokes on the last words. There is shame in the whole situation, no matter how he looks at it. But you smile again and this one part of him is relieved. He did good, fuck.

“Good job, you remembered,” you praise and the shiny leather of your shoe ghosts along his calf. “Let's start then. No touching yourself or me and no talking unless I tell you to. Got it?”

“Yes, ma'am.” He never sounded less enthusiastic than now. His pretty mouth curves into the tiniest scowl and he looks a little more handsome like this. In another life you two could have a lot of fun. Real fun. Fucked up fun.

In another life you might kneel before him and beg for some peace of mind. He could be the therapy the therapist needs. But not in this life. Because in this he was the one needing peace of mind and you were the provider.

“Now, Dave, I want you to take a deep breath and look at yourself in the mirror. Right into your eyes.”

He obeys. When he meets his own gaze through the mirror the scowl becomes more prominent. You will let him sit with his own thoughts for a minute or so. Enough time to recap your last sessions with him.

Pretty quickly into your business relationship with Dave you found out about his history with the military. No details really, you just knew that he had served for several years. Being degraded on a daily basis in your forming years does something to the brain. And it surely did something to Dave's brain because his tough outer layer cracked beautifully for you as soon as you called him a ‘weak fucking loser’.

And that was all that you did since then: humiliating him, watching him turn from the hard and controlled man into one who is struggling to loosen up and finally a man who spits out ‘Helsinki!’ and flees from the scene with a raging boner. He is the weirdest customer you have. Because his requests are so tame, so small scaled for what you could do and for what he could really take.

But all you had to do was calling him names and having him palm himself through his pants. You are not exactly complaining, he paid you as much as the guys who go the whole nine yards. Dave makes you work for your money though. It is a fight, every time.

You see it in his face, he is fighting right now, while he stares himself down through the mirror. A fight he can never win. His upper lip twitches, like he is going to growl at his own reflection any moment. Oh, it is clear as day to you, he really needs this session.

You might need to switch things up a bit, you want your customers satisfied after all. And the way he glares at himself tells you that he needs more today.

“What are you thinking, tell me.”

Your voice pulls him out of his spiraling thoughts. It’s sweet like honey but also sticky. He knows that your mouth is a sugary trap. Every word and gesture and touch a carefully laid out crumb to lead him to where you want him: staring up at you, doing whatever it takes to get your sugar lips to smile at him.

A little nudge of your heel against his thigh. A little harder than it had to be to get his attention. He doesn’t like that he likes it.

“Whimp,” Dave says with heartfelt disdain.

“What else? And keep looking at yourself.” Your heel digs a little more into his thigh and you can feel the tremble of his muscle beneath his slacks. He sure was a runner, you think. Thick thighs look so pretty with a few streaks on them. But no, no marks. “You can tell me everything, you know?”

Dave swallows thickly, the soft velvet of your voice is making his throat tight. He's trapped, caged in between your shiny stilettos and your mouth. His thigh throbs against the thin heel.

He takes in his reflection, the man in power, in slacks and a crisp white dress shirt, in polished shoes. A high heel prodding him. His fingers clutching the armrests. His face tight and sour. His wedding ring glinting.

“Cheater.”

You hum, pleased with his answer and gracing him with a small smile in return. So he is in a relationship. Good, this would make it easier. For you.

Your foot moves, the pointy heel being exchanged with the flat of the sole, pressed against his inner thigh. You drag it up the seam, just a little bit.

This is breaking the ‘no touching’ rule. And yet, he endures, fighting his silent internal fight.

Interesting.

“What’s your color, love?” You tilt your head to the side, enjoying how Dave’s nostrils flare at your audacity. He is defying the sweetness of your words. But he wants more of the stickiness. Just a little bit. It won’t hurt, right?

“Green,” he grits out. Fucking whimp, cheater, loser, failure, he tells himself silently through the mirror. Your sole moves higher now, the pointy tip already indicating towards your final destination.

Green. He wants more, he will get more. Your shoe slides higher and leaves a trail of dusty dirt on his clean pants. He will hate that, you know he will, because you would be pissed off, too.

“Are you not embarrassed, Dave? Sitting here, paying money for this? What would she say, if she knew?”

His eyes snap from the mirror to you, the corner of his lips move into another scowl. The wolf would be baring his teeth soon.

You tap the sole of your shoe against his crotch, just enough for a little sting that lets him jump slightly. Dave looks at you, stunned. Such a pretty sight.

“Oh what's with the attitude now? Did I say you could look at me?” You smile at him, the tip of your tongue running along the edges of your teeth. “Do you think you deserve it, looking at me, dummy?”

His eyes widen and his mouth opens, ready to protest, to call this off, ready to show you your place. But the only thing leaving his throat is a choked sound. Probably because you keep rubbing your foot into his groin, pushing into the not-so-soft-anymore softness.

“Eyes back on the mirror.” Another quick rap, sole meeting joined seams, another jolt and, oh yes, a moan, finally. The walls with their expensive satin tapestry greedily drink down the throaty sound. “Now.”

Your command has nothing of the powdered sugar quality anymore and he obeys. Who even is he, he wonders for a moment of clarity when he meets his own eyes through the mirror again. A stupid man, growing hard under the shoe of a stranger, a stupid man with a loving wife at home. A stupid man with guns hidden all over town. Growing hard.

He looks into the mirror, feeling detached from his own reality. He watches the shiny shoe move between the thighs of this man in the mirror, he sees the stomach of the man tense under his dress shirt, he notices how the man's mouth opens. He hears him groan, this man who looks like himself.

“God, are you seriously turned on by this? That's embarrassing. No wonder you pay me for it instead of getting it at home.” You love being mean for money and you love how Dave writhes beneath your high heel and squirms under your gaze. “Do you like this? Answer me, dummy.”

“Yes.” You only get a single hissed word as an answer. Adorable.

“Yes what?” you hiss back, applying a little more pressure to the bulge showing so beautifully.

“Yes, ma'am,” he snarls now. The wolf is showing his teeth and you're gonna pull one out. You are the only one allowed to bite in this arrangement.

“Christ, do I have to spell it out for you, stupid?” Your foot drops lower, right over the tight little package nestled under the thick, elongated dick outline. The pointy shoe tip slowly pokes into the squishy warmth of Dave’s clothed balls. His breath hitches. “Yes, ma'am, what?” you prompt him, the sugar returning to your words.

“I… I like this, ma'am.” His eyes are still glued to the picture in the mirror and he seems to register that this is him. The visual of an expensive high heel pressing against balls matches the thrumming, stingy feeling of pain in his own slacks. And another thing belongs to him, besides the pain. The jumping hard-on, right above this damned shoe.

He swallows thickly, his blunt nails digging into the velvet of the armrests. “Fuck. I like it,” he stutters, staring at his face, like he is seeing himself for the first time. Like he recognizes himself. His stormy eyes become a little calmer, the silent internal fight becoming more quiet.

“There we go. Good job.” You pull your foot away from him and lean closer, elbows to knees, one finger coming up to his chin. He just now notices that your nail polish matches your lipstick. The color would look good around his dick. In another life.

“Look at me,” you croon, laying out your trap for him again. The pad of your finger so warm and gentle under his chin, guiding his eyes to yours. You're smiling, red stretching over white, he did good and his cock throbs against the zipper. He’s wagging his tail for you.

“Good boy.” You lean closer and he can smell your perfume, the mint and vodka on your breath, your amber-scented dominance tinted in black and scarlet. The sweetness of your praise coats his tongue and he swallows it down, to make it a part of him. A little secret part on the inside only he knows about.

“Color?” Soft, alluring, a trap made for him to curl up in.

He takes a moment to think, but not too much. The thinking part of his brain was already beginning to shut down. “Green,” he rasps with his eyes fixed on the way your eyebrows dance when you smile again.

“Good. Now, I have a question for you.” Your thumb rubs against his chin, just enough to feel the day worth of scruff beneath the digit. “Will you take your cock out for me? Let me see him?”

Gentle eyes, soft words, tender chin scratches. You have his tail wagging. Slowly, slowly you are domesticating him into a dog, one praise at a time.

Dave nods his head. There’s no harm in showing his dick. That doesn't make him a cheater, he tells himself. Maybe he could make you smile again, he knows he has a good cock. Good balls too. Maybe you could squish them again. Just a little bit.

“That's a good boy. Show him to me. Show me how hard I make you.” You lean back in your chair and watch Dave hesitantly fumble with his belt, then top button, then zipper. He still has a little fight left in him. You would be concerned if not. A man like him will never give up completely, that is what makes him so interesting for you, so much fun to play with.

The teeth of the zipper hiss, the fabric rustles when he pulls it over his ass and down his thighs, over his knees. He looks a bit disgraceful like this, sitting in the velvet chair, slacks pooled around his shoes, tented black briefs, looking at you expectantly. You would have let him take his shoes off and fold his pants if he wanted. But he chose to be… excited. And a little impatient. Truly adorable.

You move a little closer again, inspecting what you can see so far. You never saw his dick and usually you are not too keen on seeing your customers’ genitals, they were just extensions, more of the canvas you like to work on. But since Dave always made a fuss about decidedly not showing signs of arousal you became curious. Out of professionalism, of course.

It was looking good, the tent. A thick head pressed against the cotton and crowned with a now black, later milky stain.

“You’re leaking? For me?” You sound like he presented you with a bouquet of flowers or a painting he doodled with crayons. You reach out, your fingers stopping shy before touching the wet spot. You look up at him, a glint of horror in his eyes. No touching, with your hands. “Is this okay?”

A head shake and a dry swallow, then he finds his voice again. “No. Ma'am. I’m sorry.” You touching him would be cheating; in his head this makes sense.

“That's okay, don't worry.” You purse your lips, tapping a finger against the red on them. Then you hold out your hand, palm up. “Lend me a hand?”

Dave hesitates. His dick protesting with stirs against the briefs, not caring about who would touch him and how. He puts his hand in yours, trusting that you would accept his limit.

And you do, of course, you're a professional. Which means you know how to work your way around limits and how to stretch boundaries. You guide his thumb to the wet, glossy spot and rub the pad over the fabric, once, twice, until Dave grunts from the tingling friction.

“Let me know how you taste,” you coo and lift his thumb to your mouth. You open it wide, your tongue sticking out, reversing the roles but he still is your wolf in a dog costume. His eyes glint and for a second you can smell his dominance, too, lingering under the scent of his precum.

Two beasts who recognize each other, just for the fragment of a second, as you look into each other's eyes. But only one can be in charge tonight. You lean in and take his thumb into your mouth. Deeply. You sink down until your lips leave a red lipstick print around the base, one half on his palm, the other half on the back of his hand.

He tastes salty, with a sharp bite to it, just like the man himself. He presses his thumb deeper, can’t resist to have the upper hand with you just once. Your pussy clenches. She likes him.

Oh, in another life, you would let him wreck you. But not now. You suck his finger until you can’t taste his precum anymore and pull off of him.

“Kneel.”

He huffs and his brows draw together. “What?”

“Wrong answer, stupid.” Your foot snaps up, sole pushed against his hard dick, pointy heel somewhere in between his balls. “Try again.”

There it is again, the storm in his eyes. He is so much fun to work with, so easy to rile up, always keeps you on your toes. The same toes that feel Dave's cock throb through his briefs and the leather of your shoe. You move your heel from left to right, just enough to make him squirm and hiss.

“Yes, ma'am.” That's what he says but it sounds a lot like ‘fuck you’.

You laugh at that, sit back in your chair and put your foot back down on the ground. “That's more like it. Come on, chop chop. On your knees.”

He does as he is told. Growling and glaring, avoiding his ridiculous reflection in the mirror, of a tough guy with his pants around his ankles and leaking like his cock is drooling for you. Dave finds himself on his knees as he sinks into the thick carpet. Your feet are right in front of him, he catches a glimpse of his face in the glossy black tip of your heels. He looks twisted, but unmistakably like him.

“And now: touch yourself. Over your briefs. Nice and slow. Eyes on my shoes.” You place one foot on his thigh and his eyes follow the movement without moving too much. “You seem to like them?”

His hand, the one with your lipstick on it, runs along his length, slowly, calculated, avoiding his sensitive tip as he does. “Yes, ma'am,” Dave mutters and squeezes his girth like he's trying to soothe himself because your voice doesn’t do it anymore. It's all harsh now and not sticky-sweet.

Your heel gets pressed into his thigh, the thin end biting into his skin. “Yes, ma'am, what?”

His jaw ticks. His thumb is soothingly rubbing over the head of his cock, knuckle pushed against the underside. “Yes, ma'am, I like your shoes.”

“I thought so. You got so hard for them, didn’t you?”

He takes a deep breath and keeps on palming himself, a steady back and forth. The wet blotch grows. “I-...” He breaks off when you start caressing his balls with your sole. Back and forth. Front to back, in the same rhythm as he strokes himself. “I did get hard for them, yes. For you, ma'am.”

He just wants some of that sugar back, some of those honeyed words from you. He's on his knees already, what else could you want?

You let him kneel and watch his hand move, register his hip twitch. You brush your fingers through his hair, just a light pet.

“Take him out now. I can look at him, right?”

He nods his head and tugs himself out. Caught behind the waistband you get a first peek. Girthy, a stunning color, a dusty rose turning into an earthy pinkish-red, cut, a clear bead of precum forming over the slit before it runs down and spreads over the already glistening skin.

With another tug he pushes his briefs under his sack, forcing it up nice and tight, right under his cock. He has a slight curve, too. Fucking perfect. Your pussy clenches again.

Dave's hand fists the base, some of your red lipstick transfers to his shaft. The closest your mouth will probably get to him. Such a shame, you think, swallowing down some pooling spit, because you really would like to get a sore jaw from sucking him off.

“Now that's a pretty cock you got there. Hold still.”

You crouch over to Dave and place your palm over his hand, giving his dick a good squeeze with Dave's hand.

“I won't touch him, I promise. But let me guide you.” Molasse thick, that's how your voice sounds. Almost too thick to be swallowed down.

He manages to do it nonetheless. Ignoring that this is out of the comfort zone of David York, the husband and father. But oh, those words taste delicious for the man who knows rules and laws but lives outside of them.

His own hand relaxes under yours and with the first stroke another yes, ma'am drips from his lips.

This is a strange feeling. He guided several hands in his life, taught them where to rub, how to twist, how much to squeeze. But having his own hand touch him with those foreign movements was… new. Sexy. Frustrating too, because you seem to know exactly what not to do.

He looks down between his thighs and sees two hands moving and he really tries to imagine it was just your hand. He wants your touch. Christ, he wants your mouth on him, too. And you would do it, you would gladly accept the proposal and call him a good boy again. But he can't. He can't do it, it's not the right thing to do. He feels his wedding ring slide up over his tip and back down. No, he can’t have you touch him directly.

But he can give in to you a little more. His dignity hangs over the other chair, taken off together with his jacket right at the beginning. You might as well make him your bitch. He throbs against his fingers and Dave asks himself if you can feel it, too. Without being able to stop it his hips buck into his fist, your fists. You were moving his hand so goddamn slow, he needs more. More pressure, more speed.

“Are you not happy, love? Are you being ungrateful?” You slow down even more until your palms reach his top again. Dave has lubed himself up so nicely with his own precum, you can feel it spreading between your own fingers. With a tight grip you flick and twist, like screwing open a bottle, twisting the cork out of a bottle of champagne.

Dave’s body jerks as do his hips and he moans again, feeding the soundproofing of the hotel room the delicious sounds he makes.

You tut at him, smirking and mocking and twist his hand over his cock again.

“Oh, so you are ungrateful? You have to ask for the things that you want, dummy, That's how this works.” You loosen your grasp and straighten your back, cross your arms and then your legs until the sole of your shoe hovers over his balls. “So…? Are you ungrateful?”

He shakes his head and fights the urge to rock himself against your shoe. More precum gets pushed out of his slit, he fucking aches. He could just spit out the safeword and jerk it in his car, like usual. But he is too proud for that. He is going to finish what he started here, in this room with you.

“No, I’m not. I just-...” he breaks off when you start bouncing your foot, knocking against his balls with almost gentle pats. Dave clutches his girth with a groan, his hips bucking forwards again. “I…,” he strokes himself once, hoping you would get the implications without having to put it into words.

A finger hooks under his chin again, he can smell himself on your skin. A nudge and he looks at your face again, the way you bare your teeth at him in a graceful smile doesn't cover up the authoritative tone hidden in your sweet words.

“You already did so good today. But I want you to do one last thing, yes?” You rub your finger under his chin, smearing some of his sticky precum over his skin. “Will you try it, for me?”

He'd do a backflip, if you kept up the carrot and stick game for a little longer.

And then you do it again, showing him the treat he could have if he only was a good enough boy for you. You start licking your hand clean. Languid laps with the flat of your tongue, starting with the little finger.

“Love, I want you to fuck your hand. You don't have to hold back.” You suckle on the tip of your finger before licking Dave's salty residue off of the next one. You stop at the tip, twirl your tongue around the fingernail painted all ruby and smile at him. Just as if you were licking an ice cream spoon clean.

“Just make sure to keep your hand still and fuck into it.” Now middle and index finger. Your tongue runs over both of them before you put them into your mouth. In and out they go, sluggish and without hurry, you hum at the taste like it's the sweetest cream.

And then, instead of doing a backflip, Dave starts moving his hips. His eyes glued to your mouth and the red of your lipstick transfers to your fingers before it disappears in the dark, tight, wet cavern of your mouth.

His hand doesn't feel anywhere close to what he imagines your mouth does. Dave is just glad that he can finally care for his aching boner. With every thrust, in sync with your fingers sliding in and out between your lips, his balls slap against the leather sole of your shoe. It stings, but it stings good. He didn’t even know he liked this before tonight. Before your expensive stiletto pressed and rapped and pushed into them.

He ruts his hips faster now, not matching the speed he needs, but he makes it up with squeezing himself hard. Soft squelches come from between his legs now with every back and forth. More noises for the thick carpet and walls to swallow, never to be heard again.

You’re sucking on your thumb now while Dave's clutching himself harder, hips thrusting in a relentless pace. He fucks his hand like you told him to.

He looks so perfect in the mirror, that little piece of ass that you can see from your angle. Clenching and unclenching, the movements draw you in, hypnotize you. The perfect cream-white canvas for blotches of red and sprinkles of violet, for scarlet streaks, oval imprints of your teeth even.

You lick your lips when his thighs start trembling. How good he would look if he fucked himself on your strap-on. In another life, you muse and press your thighs together. The sound your thumb makes between your lips resembles the one that will come from your wet cunt later, when you're at home again. With Dave's salty taste in your mouth and a girthy vibrator, one to match the size of his cock.

His eyes meet yours again, just for a second before they dart down to your tongue again when you start licking your palm. He's still in there, the hard man, the one who's fighting against himself, the one who probably whispers insults inside his head. You can see him in that short moment, somewhere swimming in the stormy mahogany.

You stop licking your palm when Dave winces after snapping his hips harder into his hand and his balls against your sole. He’s at his personal limit.

“Almost there, love, hm?” Another lap to your palm, seemingly unbothered by the state he is in. “Do you want to come?”

He groans and growls, his glutes are burning, his knees hurt, his fucking balls thrum. Oh, he wants to come alright. “Yes, ma'am,” he grits out.

“Say that you're pretty when you fuck your hand for me.” Your tongue flicks over your palm again and reveals your canines again. Just a wolf cleaning her silky fur.

If the need for his orgasm wasn't bigger than his pride, he would have rolled his eyes and fucked that smug smile right out of your face. But he really, really needs to come. He is so close. He can play along a little longer.

“I'm pretty when I fuck my… fucking hand for you,” he snarls and a something in the depth of his guts starts fluttering with a burning strength.

“Good job. You really are pretty like that, love.” You pull the leg of your pants up, the heavy, black fabric now rests bunched up on your knee. Dave still ruts into his hand, chasing the release he knows he can’t have that easily.

“Say ‘I will make a pretty mess for you, ma'am.’,” you order and push your fingers through his hair, careful to not ruin his side part. A single unruly strand gets fixed with your spit-wet fingers. Nothing that leaves marks on me. Well, he can wash off your little saliva mark later.

More carrots, more sweet words and sugar touches, more of your smug but also content smile. Christ, he just wants to do something right. And you are offering him an easy fix. Dave whines and leans into your touch. Vigorously he pounds his hand, his balls trapped between his waistband and your sole and it all feels so warm, hot, his pulse beats in his ears and throbs in his straining cock. “I will make a pretty mess for you, ma'am. Fuck. I need to move my hand.”

His big browns look up at you, same parts furious, pleading and desperate.

“Say please,” you chirp and tilt your hips to feel the middle seam of your pants pressed against your clit. “Be good, say please and you can come for your ma'am.”

“Please. Fuck, please!” he barks as he steps into your honeyed trap you have laid out for him from the beginning. He is stuck in it knees first, tail between his legs, barking, howling, wagging. How to catch a wolf.

“That's my good boy. Go on, you can come. Make a mess.”

He did good, thank god. Dave starts moving his hand, jerking his cock hard and fast, his teeth sink into his flew to bite back a loud howl when he feels himself coming.

It is beautiful to watch for you, how his eyes roll back slightly, how his hand moves so fast that the smacking sounds are like a rapid fire, how he thrusts a few more times into his tight fist until he squirts his thick creamy cum all over. It feels hot on your skin, like molten wax poured over your shin, down to your foot and finally your high heel.

You moan in unison with Dave. You never are above feeding the soundproofing some of your noises as well. An offering to the gods, to keep you blessed with men like Dave.

He continues to stroke himself, choking on a few whimpers, milking the last remnants of cum out of him. His wedding band isn't shining as much now, all dull and foggy with his seed dimming the golden hue. His hand trembles, his runner thighs tremble too, his briefs, still tucked under his balls, are ruined and he slowly, slowly loosens his hard grip around his cock.

“Love, you did so good. That wasn't so hard, was it?” His cum starts running down your leg now and you both watch it for a moment.

“I'll get you a tissue,” he mutters breathily, ready to finally get off his knees and gain some dignity back.

“Nuh uh. Clean up without tissues or towels.” Nothing enters my body without my consent. He looks at you and scoffs out single disbelieving laughter. You shrug your shoulders. “Listen, you came this far. You can be a coward and use your safe word. Or you can take responsibility and clean up the mess you made. It's an easy task.”

You are right. It is an easy task, compared to the mess his life is. It's easy. It's easy. It's easy. He leans forward and swallows, thickly. He looks up at you and sticks his tongue out. It's easy.

You lift your leg up to his mouth, nodding your head, smiling, baring your teeth like a docile pet wolf. Dave's tongue meets your skin, smooth under his slick, powdery scent under his salty stench. He licks a stripe from your ankle up your shin, then another one and another one. Slowly. It's easy. One lick at a time. Fixing the mess he made.

His clean hand holds your foot, nestled in your stiletto, and he laps his cum from the bridge with shorter strokes.

Dave doesn't flinch away from his own taste, he’s licked his own hands clean often enough to enjoy it to a degree. A form of cannibalism, eating his young, feasting on his own potential.

He cleans your skin, lifting your foot higher and his tongue pressed into the small gaps between the leather and your toes. You pet his head again, humming, purring under his ministrations. Dave's lips purse half above the leather and half above your skin, a small kiss before he sucks his cum out of the tiny gap.

It really is easy. He licks over the glossy black, leather and salt coating his senses, another sugary good boy in his ears and in his hair your claws graze over his scalp.

A few more licks and kisses and the creamy white has disappeared from the shiny piece of leather. He can see himself in it again. A twisted image, but unmistakably Dave.

He rubs his spit into the smooth animal skin, you can wash his mark off later if you want. He's done. With cleaning and with this. It's over, for tonight at least.

He lowers your stiletto onto the thick carpet again and offers free sight to his spent cock, heavy and sticky. No more wagging, no more dog. He's back to being an equal.

“You did amazing, Dave. Really good.”

Your hand falls to his shoulder, giving him a gentle pat before you rise to your feet and over him your hand to pull him up. He takes it, groaning quietly when his knees crack. Dave feels a little shaky, or maybe more shook than shaky. But he feels good, lighter, loose. Not even ashamed.

“Can I get you anything? Something to drink, something to eat?” You don't even wait for his answer and turn to the minibar, pulling out a cold water for him.

“No, thank you. I'm good. I'll just take a quick shower.” With a thud his shoes land on the floor as he kicks them off. His slacks follow, then his damp briefs.

You watch him undress, amazed and attracted to his confidence and nonchalance, attracted to what lies beneath Dave's clothes, too. In another life you two would be a great match.

“Do you want me to wait for you?” You turn towards the minibar again, looking for something else. There it is, a kitkat.

“You don't have to, but thank you.” Dave smiles at you and shrugs his shirt off his shoulders. He holds out his hand now, naked in front of you and not bothered by it. Smug. Big dick energy and he can afford it.

You shake his hand, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment. “Until the next time then. Take good care, Dave.”

You smile at each other, the possibilities of being reckless crackling between you, but then he lets go of your hand and turns his back towards you, heading into the bathroom. When the water starts running behind closed doors you take his shirt from the pile of clothes and nuzzle into the fabric. It's a good smell. Masculine, of course.

Slipping a few fingers into your pants and deeper, behind the elastic of your lace underwear and still deeper, dipping them into your sopping pussy, you inhale his scent deeply, clenching to the thought of his tongue on your skin.

You treat yourself to a moment with your fingers buried in your cunt before you pull out again. You write your name on the inside of his collar, invisible ink made out of your slick, setting a scent mark, a last reward for this good boy.

When Dave enters the room again later you have disappeared, in thin air, no trace of you is left. But something churns inside of him when he gets dressed.

Later, in his car, it clicks. Pussy. It smells like pussy, right in front of him. You god forsaken menace. Of course you had to have the last word. Marking him, mocking him, making him hard again. And of course your pussy smells delicious. Sticky sweet. He groans and adjusts himself, driving home a little faster now.

The house lays in silence when he steps over the threshold. The girls are fast asleep, he checked it immediately with a peek into their rooms. Carol is asleep as well. Soft and warm and plush under the blanket, curled up on her side. Dave kicks his shoes off and steps out of his slacks and briefs. They are still damp in the front, from the precum you urged out of him. But the shirt stays on.

He slips under the blanket and pulls Carol closer, her perfect ass against his already half-hard cock. A hand gently kneads one of her breasts, the other one tugs down her pajama pants.

She's awake in no time, whimpering when he grinds against her rear and lets his dick glide between her ass cheeks.

“Therapy was good?” Her voice is so soft, always sweet for him, never harsh, rarely ever does a no come from her.

“Yeah. Missed you…” he mumbles into the crook of her neck, biting and pulling on her skin until she winces softly.

“Dave-...”

He pinches her nipples and she winces again. A waft of your pussy hits him and he breathes it in deeply.

“Color, baby.”

“What?” Carol chuckles, not yet believing that she’s about to be fucked by her always loyal, always loving and caring husband.

“You’ve heard me. Give me your color.” His cock now slides between her legs and through her folds. He’ll slick her up real good, leaking already with a quiet thrumming sting in his balls. Carol’s pussy feels as good as yours smells.

“Green,” she gasps and rocks back against him.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he growls before biting the flesh over her shoulder blade and pushing into her.

When Dave finally is satisfied, soaked in Carol and him, she rolls on her back and watches him get a warm towel for her. Whatever this therapist did with Dave, it did wonders. He should go more often.

thank you for reading! and remember, kids, comment or reblog to show me I've been a good girl and did a good job, please and thank you

find my Dave York masterlist here

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more a/n: I'd probably suck as dominatrix, shout-out to all the bad ass professionals and hobby dom(me)s out there, you are amazing and I'm literally on my knees for you

dividers: @/saradika-graphics

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