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hartleychristopher · 1 day ago

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Ooo! I'd love to see Chris with a puppy!gf but like.. scary dog yk? doberman/shepard energy girl looks scary but is just a fucking dumb lap dog 😵‍💫

Chris always teasing her when no one is looking and fucking her so hard her big scary attitude is nowhere to be seen omg omg omg plsplspls

🥥

Attack Dog Lap Dog

Pairing: Chris x fem!reader

Summary: after reader jumps to Chris’s defense in a way that leaves him hot and bothered, he thinks he knows what he’s in for when he takes her back to his room… he’ll find out she’s not as tough as she looks when she’s behind a closed door with him.

Warnings: filthy smut!, return of soft dom!chris!! 💥, sub!reader, a dash of Emily being mean (for the plot), unprotected p in v (they’re really acting like condoms don’t exist), a bit of drinking so dubious consent bc of that, use of “good girl”

A/N: omg anon I am sooo sorry this took a billion years… I wrote the first part and got stuck for so long but we made it!! Here it is and I hope you love this little one shot!

The night is starting to wind down at the Washington mansion, the music is buzzing in the background but the playlist has ended and the ‘recommended’ playlist Spotify has conjured up has really lulled everyone into a more mellow mood, which Josh doesn’t like.

“Let’s play a game!” Josh suggests, standing abruptly, unsteady on his feet from the alcohol he’s consumed tonight.

“What game?” Jess asks, her interest piqued, thoughts of a steamy game of truth or dare floating around in her boozed up brain.

A silence falls over the group. “We could play werewolf.” Chris suggests after a beat. Most of the group’s shoulders sag in disinterest.

“What’s werewolf?” You ask, turning your gaze to Chris, who is propped up against the couch, because there’s no room on it. He’s currently acting as a foot rest for one of Jessica’s legs, her calf resting on his shoulder.

Everyone lets out a big sigh, knowing what’s to come.

“Werewolf is a social deception game” Chris perks up, pushing his glasses up on his nose and pushing Jessica’s leg off his shoulder, to which she whines in annoyed inconvenience. “It’s also sometimes known as Mafia—actually has its origins in the Soviet Union, believe it or not, It was invented in 1986 by a psychology professor named Dmitry—“

“No one cares Chris!” Emily whines in annoyance, rubbing her temples.

“Fuck off” you quickly shoot back at Emily “I asked him a question” you bark, “I’d like to hear the answer”

Emily rolls her eyes and gives you a look as to say “suit yourself” but she keeps her lips sealed.

You look back to Chris, who looks between you and Emily nervously but when his eyes fall back on you they’re tinged with a glowing admiration that the alcohol won’t let him hide.

You let him drone on about the game for a bit, moving closer to him to meet his eyes while he explains it, the rest of the group falls into their own conversations, some even leaving the main room to wander off into the house seeking more booze or a new stimuli.

You listen intently to Chris talk about the game, to be honest it’s hard to follow some of it but his eyes are so pretty in the warm light from the designer lamps in the room that your content with listening to him talk forever.

“But…” he takes a breath from his monologue, “I don’t think we have enough people interested to play anyhow..” he gives you a sheepish smile.

“We need 5 at least?” You try to recall his explanation of the rules.

“Yeah,” he nods, “and even if we did convince these numb-skulls to play they’d be too faded to be any good at it” he laughs, knowing you two are the only ones who aren’t too intoxicated.

He tilts his head back against the arm of the couch.

He looks at you from the corner of his eyes, a flustered smile pulling at his lips “but if it’s any consolation… I think you’d be a great werewolf… considering you just about bit Em’s head off earlier,” He laughs lightly.

You can’t help but let a smirk pull at your own lips now.

“Yeah well, she was being a bitch” you shrug.

“She was being Emily” he corrects “I don’t take offense to her” he mimics your shrug.

“I just didn’t like how she was dismissing you.” you try to defend your actions, a blush betraying your stern tone.

Chris feels emboldened by the liquor still lingering in his veins, he leans towards you, his glasses slipping down his nose as he looks over them, making your heart thump hard in your chest.

“Should I put you on a leash, my little attack dog?” He says lowly.

Your lips part with your silent gasp, your heart thumps hard in your chest, not expecting him to be that forward—he didn’t expect it either. But, the thought of him putting you on a leash is tempting to say the least.

“I’m gonna bite you” you try to argue back, your voice coming out weak and desperate despite your effort to be intimidating.

The waver in your voice and the blush on your cheeks only gives Chris more confidence to keep flirting.

“Is that a threat… or a promise, pet?” He whispers into your ear, making goosebumps bloom down your side, a silent plea to feel his hands on you.

“Your room.” you demand weakly, knowing Chris has his own guest-room in Josh’s house.

“Yes ma’am” Chris wastes no time rising to his feet, holding his hand out for yours once he’s stood before you. You take it and let him pull you to your feet.

The rest of the group has pretty much scattered from this room by now, the only ones left are engrossed in conversation in the corner, they don’t even look in your direction as you two slip off up the stairs.

Chris keeps his distance from you as you walk up the stairs, he’s letting you take the lead, he’s trying not to assume you’re going to do anything over a PG rating when you get to his room. for all he knows, you could have just wanted a quieter place to talk.

When you two get to the end of the hall you walk into his room, he opens the door for you, bowing dramatically and ushering you in first. “m’lady” he says in a faux British accent and you can’t help but laugh and roll your eyes.

You walk into Chris’s room ahead of him, the door clicking shut behind you, sealing off the low party sounds below.

You stand there for a beat, heart hammering. Chris crosses the room casually, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s still half-laughing from his own stupid “m’lady” joke.

He’s not expecting anything. not really. He flops onto his bed and starts unlacing one of his boots like you guys are about to chill and talk strategy for some other party game he can chatter on about.

Meanwhile, you’re standing there like your skin’s too hot. Like his stupid “attack dog” comment is still ringing in your ears, and your legs are going to give out from how bad you want to curl up in his lap and let him call you that again.

Chris glances up when he notices you’re not moving.

His boot drops to the floor with a soft thunk. “You good?”

You cross to the foot of the bed, slowly, nervous energy buzzing in your fingertips. “You… said something downstairs… about putting me on a leash.”

Chris laughs, half-giddy, half-confused. “yeah, I was kidding. I didn’t think you’d take it seriously—wait, did you…?”

You nod, barely. “I… I liked it”

He stares at you, glasses halfway down his nose, brain clearly doing backflips.

“Holy shit.” He breathes.

You shift your weight, eyes dropping. “You thought I was gonna come up here and jump your bones, didn’t you? Get all bossy?”

He chokes on a laugh. “I mean… kinda? You’re just—so tough. I figured if anyone was gonna pin me down and tell me what to do—”

You shake your head quickly. “No. I don’t wanna be in charge”

His jaw goes a little slack.

“Oh.”

A beat passes between you two.

“Ohhhhhh.” He whispers.

You step closer. “I just want you to tell me what to do.”

Chris exhales violently, like that sentence punched the wind out of him. His fingers curl into the comforter. “You’re—fuck, you’re serious.”

you nod, kneeling up onto the bed slowly. His eyes track every movement like you’re some kind of skittish creature and he doesn’t wanna spook you.

“I want you to touch me,” you whisper, sitting back on your heels in front of him. “Tell me I did good earlier…? For standing up for you.”

His hands twitch in his lap.

“You did so good,” he murmurs, almost reverent. “You were so fucking hot. I wanted to kiss you the second you told her off.”

You shift closer, tugging at the hem of your top—slowly. like you’re offering, not assuming. “Can you show me, then?”

He makes a broken sound.

“Yes. Yeah. Okay. Okay. But just—tell me if I go too far, alright?” His hands are suddenly on your hips, like he can’t stop himself anymore. “You say stop, we stop. But—holy shit—if you let me…”

He leans in, kisses the corner of your mouth, featherlight. Then your jaw. Then your neck. His voice drops to a whisper right against your skin, “I want to fuck you so bad”

You let out the softest whimper—and Chris freezes, blinking.

“Did you just—?”

You nod, breath shaky. “Please don’t stop.”

That’s it. That’s the end of Chris’s brain. He’s a man on a mission now, clumsy with urgency, but reverent; He kisses you hard.

All that awkward hesitation he’d had before? Gone. Melted under the heat of your hands fisting in his shirt and the way you gasp like you need him. You straddle his lap, grinding down against him without even meaning to, and he groans into your mouth like he’s been waiting years for this.

His hands are firm on your hips, pulling you tighter against him, and the second he tugs—hard—you let out a soft, high-pitched whine that short-circuits his entire nervous system.

He pulls back just enough to look at you. His lips are pink and kiss-swollen, his glasses askew.

“…Did you just make that noise because I grabbed you?” He asks breathless.

You blink, dazed, lips parted. You don’t answer.

He tilts his head, voice dipping lower. “oh, you liked that.”

He tightens his grip again, harder this time, fingers digging into your waist and you moan, pitching forward like your whole body is begging for more. He breathes out a laugh, disbelieving.

“You’re not scary at all, are you?” he says, low and smug and shocked at his own boldness. “You’re just a whiney little thing.”

You whimper again—louder. Bury your face in his neck. “Chris—”

“You barked at Em like you were gonna fight her,” he murmurs, rocking you against him now, “but this is what I get behind closed doors?”

You nod into his neck, dizzy from how fast it’s all happening—how good it feels. How natural it feels to let him take over.

Chris drags his hands up under your shirt, palms rough and warm, pushing the fabric up until it bunches beneath your arms. You don’t even think, just lift your arms for him like you need to be bare for him.

His hands are everywhere—groping, squeezing, testing the limits of your reactions—and you’re falling apart with every new touch. He cups your jaw next, thumb brushing over your bottom lip, and when you lean into it, he mutters, “yeah, that’s what I thought. you wanna be handled, huh?”

You nod, whimpering again as your hips grind against his with more urgency.

Chris curses, pulling you back in to kiss you—sloppier now, hungrier. And between kisses, he mumbles: “All I have to do is grab you and you’re whining for me?”

You claw at his shoulders, desperate for more. “You talk too much,” you breathe.

He grins against your mouth. “Oh, now you wanna shut me up?”

He flips you onto your back without warning, hands still gripping tight like he doesn’t trust himself to let go. His voice is wrecked now, half-laughing, half-moan as he pushes you onto your back on the bed.

You’re sprawled on the bed now, chest rising and falling fast, eyes wide and glassy. Chris looms over you, lips flushed and bitten. His hands haven’t stopped touching you—your sides, your thighs, your waist—like he’s trying to map out every inch of you.

“You gonna beg for it, baby?” he asks, voice wrecked and shaky with disbelief. “Is that how desperate you’re getting for me?”

You squirm under him. “Chris…”

He grins; hungry, boyish, slightly unhinged. “That’s not begging”

His fingers slide up your bare stomach under your shirt, slow and taunting, until his thumbs are brushing the underwire of your bra. Your back arches toward him like instinct.

“C’mon,” he whispers, dipping his head to kiss your neck, biting lightly. “be good. use your words.”

You whimper, and he sinks his teeth in a little harder.

“I want you,” you breathe. “Please, Chris. I want you to fuck me”

His breath catches hard against your skin like he wasn’t at all ready for how good that would sound.

“Shit,” he mutters, kissing down your chest now, tongue teasing the edge of your bra. “You don’t even know what that does to me.”

“I do,” you whisper. “I want it, please.”

He groans and suddenly your shirt is gone, thrown somewhere to the floor, your lacy bra tugged down unceremoniously. Your tits spilling out for him and before you know it, his mouth finds your nipple, sucking it into his mouth while his big hand squeezes your other breast.

“You’re so—fuck, you’re so pretty,” he mutters, lips dragging over sensitive skin. “And you’re mine tonight. All mine.”

You nod, gasping as he tugs your jeans down with a little more force than necessary. You lift your hips to help him, moaning softly as the fabric peels away and leaves you in just your panties beneath him.

Chris looks down at you; spread out, flushed, needy. and he stammers.

“You—you’re sure?” he asks, one hand still at your hip, the other tangled in the bedsheets like he’s clinging to the last shred of self-control. “Because if I keep going, I’m not gonna be able to—like—go slow, or… be chill, or—”

“I don’t want slow,” you interrupt, pulling him down by his shirt collar until your lips barely brush. “I want you to ruin me.”

His brain short-circuits.

He kisses you hard, rutting against you now through both layers of fabric, he can feel your panties sliding against your slick as he moves against you and he groans into your mouth when he realizes how soaked you already are.

“Oh my fuck,” he gasps, voice shaking. “You’re practically dripping, sweetheart”

You can only nod, whimpering under him as he finally—finally—slides a hand between your legs, thick fingers pressing over your panties, making you arch and cry out softly.

“That for me?” he murmurs, teasing your clit through the sopping fabric. “all ‘cause I said I’d put you on a leash?”

You whine, thighs trembling.

He chuckles darkly, leaning in close. “Gonna have to start watching what I say around you, huh? Don’t wanna get you soaking wet in front of Josh next time.”

You gasp, burying your face in his shoulder. “Chris—please—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he soothes, voice tender but wrecked. “I’ve got you.”

He pulls your panties down with aching slowness, then pushes his own pants and boxers down just enough to free himself, his hard cock springing free. His hands are trembling, like he still can’t believe this is happening, but his gaze is locked on yours.

“I’m gonna be so good to you,” he promises, lining himself up and rocking forward to slide the tip through your slippery folds. You sob at the contact, desperate for more.

Then he pauses for just a beat.

“tell me what you want.” he whispers, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock.

You squirm under him, breathless. “Wanna be fucked. I wanna be your good girl”

And with that, Chris snaps, his eyes widening.

He thrusts into you hard and deep, swallowing your gasp with a messy, ravenous kiss as you claw at his back, already undone.

“you are,” he growls. “My perfect, whiney, good girl.” He breathes, “Holy—fuck—you feel incredible” he groans, hips stuttering as he bottoms out. “I didn’t—I didn’t think it would be like this—”

You’re already moaning so loud it makes him whimper. the second he hears that noise, that soft little broken cry? He loses his mind.

“Oh my god, that’s what you sound like?” he pants, pulling back and slamming into you again, rougher this time. your back arches, mouth falling open on a wrecked little sob, “that’s how you sound when I fuck you?” like he’s wondered about it before.

He’s talking too much, but you love it. He can’t stop.

He hooks your leg over his hip and fucks into you faster now, sloppy and deep and needy, his hand gripping your thigh like he’ll leave marks. you’re already wet enough that it’s obscene, slick sounds filling the room every time he thrusts into your tight cunt.

You’re not quiet, not even close.

Your moans are high and breathy, sometimes turning into whines when he hits just the right spot, and Chris’s mouth is everywhere; your neck, your chest, the shell of your ear.

“You’re so fucking loud,” he groans, absolutely wrecked with it. “You’re gonna get us caught”

You shake your head against the pillow, but you’re gasping, blissed-out, teary-eyed, gone.

He leans in closer, fucking you through your moans now, voice low and wrecked.

“No, you want them to hear, don’t you?” he pants, his rhythm messy now, desperate. “You want them to know I made you sound like this”

You’re whimpering nonstop now, too far gone to form words, just clinging to him with trembling thighs and a soaked, squelching rhythm that makes his breath stutter.

“Shit—okay, okay, that’s—you’re squeezing me so tight” he gasps, forehead pressed to yours, “You feel too fucking good—I’ve been wanting this for so long—”

Your eyes flutter open, wet lashes stuck to your cheeks. you touch his face, whispering breathlessly, “Chris—I’m gonna come—please don’t stop—please—”

That does it.

He groans, something feral and completely overwhelmed, and fucks into you harder, faster, both of you sloppy and frantic and loud.

Your orgasm hits so hard your vision goes white, back arching, thighs trembling around his hips. You cry out his name like a prayer and your walls flutter around him while you feel him stutter through his own release seconds later, shuddering as he spills into you with a raw, broken moan.

“Fuck— oh my god—shit—baby,” he chokes out, hips slowing, but he’s still coming, still pulsing inside of you with little jerks of his hips.

Finally he stills and then he collapses onto you, breathing hard, holding himself up on shaking arms just enough not to crush you.

silence settles, well, except for both of you panting like you just ran a marathon.

Chris finally lifts his head, icy blue eyes dazed behind his glasses, he’s completely flushed and disheveled.

“…we’re not gonna be able to show our faces back downstairs, are we?” He asks breathlessly.

You burst into breathless laughter, and he grins like he just fell in love with the sound.

Chris taglist: @fritzhardt @avwade69 @maiiuelle @avrells @fordthegamelord819 @xoxocher @sweetcalebb @z0mb1epuzzy @dnpo1son @k4sey1st

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xoxocher · 2 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐒𝐘 𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

SUMMARY - josh has been unusually handsy all night–lingering touches and whispered jokes against your neck. it’s getting harder to tell if it’s just the alcohol...or if he’s finally giving into what you've both been pretending not to want.

PAIRING/SETTING - fem!reader x bsf!josh washington. no prank au (that timeline hurts too much). no use of y/n.

WARNINGS - graphic sexual material (porn with plot basically), dubcon(ish?), strong language, & underage drinking.

W/C - 1,876

A/N - hey, hey, heyyy…i’m not exactly “new” to the game, but this is my first work on this page (how exciting)! a full-length josh x reader series is currently in its development stages. until then, enjoy my silly, sappy, smutty one shots ♥︎

joshua washington is a lot of things. persistent, loud-mouthed, and a bit perverted–but ohh does he know how to throw one hell of a party. you hate to admit it, but nothing hits quite like a washington house party at full tilt–too many bodies, not enough boundaries, and the absolute guarantee that you will wake up with glitter in places it should never be. there’s something euphoric about the filthy spectacle.

you manage to make your way to the kitchen amidst the chaos, converse clinging to the tile drenched in sweat and spilt red solos. there was chris, mystery shot in hand–the two of you had developed this unspoken tradition over the years of ragers–you blithely accept his offer, throwing back the concoction. the faint taste of lemonade and lighter fluid burns the back of your throat. you’d think you’d have learned your lesson by now. you jet to the sink, running your tongue underneath the faucet before swishing and spitting.

“gahh~ what the fuck is that?”

he brings a wagging finger up to your face, “ah-ah-ah, a magician never reveals his secrets.”

“i’d hardly call that magic,” you retort, eyeing the empty glass. “eugh~” you shiver.

you reach for a paper towel, dabbing away the water that dribbles down your chin, when you feel an unmistakable shift in the air.

“annnd there she is…” there stands josh washington in all his smug glory, leaning against the doorframe with a beer in hand and that shit-eating grin he wears like a trademark. “tsk, tsk, tsk–and to think i had faith you’d last at least 15 minutes before making such poor choices,” he tuts, stepping further into the kitchen.

you don’t bother with formalities. “well you can blame chris and his shitty taste in alcohol.”

josh shoots him a finger gun, “doing god’s work, man.”

chris brings his hands together in prayer, bowing before his best bro, “always a pleasure.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes, “ahem~ losers,” you cough out before turning on heel to make your escape.

suddenly, josh’s free hand is planted on the counter beside you, boxing you in–not enough to trap you, but just enough to make your breath hitch. “and just where do you think you’re going?” he questions, a tinge of devilry curling around his words.

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this is a party josh. i’m going to dance, obviously,” you patronize.

he furrows his brows, eyes raking up and down your figure, tongue slowly swiping across his lips before perking up. “well, if that’s the case…” he starts, walking his fingers up your arm and down your spine, hands finding solace on your waist, “mind if i ride along?”

the cool sweat from his bottle drips down your thigh, sending a slight shockwave through your body. you manage to steady your breathing, “not at all.”

“sweet,” he spins you round, giving you a small push towards the door before turning back to chris to shoot him a two-finger salute.“peace-out cub scout.”

as the two of you make your way through the sea of bodies, you become hopelessly aware of josh’s grip on your hips. sure, it wasn’t exactly out of character for josh to get a bit handsy with you, but this felt different, very different. “what has gotten into you tonight?” your tone is light, playful, but his touch caries an edge, far from innocent.

he leans down—lips hovering mere centimeters from your neck—“mm~ wouldn’t you like to know?”

his breath is hot against your skin, laced with the sharp bite of booze. his tone, low and wanton, sends a pool of warmth to the pit of your stomach. what the hell is wrong with you?

relief washes over you as you spot an opening in the crowd, a brief, fleeting escape from the dizzying heat of josh’s touch. you turn to face him, fingers sharply pressed into the skin of his forearms as he moves the pads of his fingers to brush over your ass.

you suck in a breath, eyes now glued to the floor. “you keep touching me like that,” you stammer, just loud enough to be heard over the booming bass of the speakers, “people are gonna start talking.”

he chuckles, low and satisfied. “good. let ‘em.”

you narrow your gaze, half-expecting him to stumble, slur, do something to explain his sudden brazenness. this was new territory–for you, that is. josh washington flirted like it was sport, sure–but this? this felt…focused. intentional. like he had tunnel vision, and you were the prize at the end of it.

he must be drunk, you tell yourself, a futile attempt at rationalizing his behavior. he brings his beer to his lips, taking a quick swig. a sly smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth as he swirls the bottle around. “second one,” he says, as if reading your mind. “i’m barely buzzed.”

your stomach flips.

so he’s not drunk. not even tipsy. which means every longing look, every teasing word–its all him. clear-headed and in total control.

you must’ve zoned out for just a second too long–snapped back into reality by a rough tug on your waist as he pulls you in. he cocks his head to the side, “what’s wrong? you’d prefer i was?” he taunts.

the air around you begins to thicken as the sound of your pounding chest fills your ears.

“josh i-” you murmur, your voice becoming increasingly shaky as he presses his now painfully obvious hard-on against your body. “tell me to stop and i will, no questions asked.” his gaze doesn’t stray, steady and unflinching.

you persistently shake your head, throat bobbing as you swallow, “no, don’t stop. please.”

his pupils blow wide, the last shred of restraint flickering out like a snuffed candle.

“upstairs,” he rasps, “i’ll be up in a minute.”

“promise?” you question sweetly–god, what has he done to you?

he takes your chin between his pointer and thumb, “ohh~ absolutely.” his eyes flick down to your lips, then back up with a sinful grin. “wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

you make your way up to his bedroom, the familiar scent of his cologne floods your senses. you take in the charming mess before you, and for a brief moment, everything is still. your fingers graze over the soft fabric of his sheets as the door quietly clicks shut behind you.

josh brings a swift hand up to your hip, swiveling you towards him, the other loosely fisting your hair.

“miss me?”

you arch into him, positively aching.

“i’ve got you,” he mutters against your skin, fingers tracing the waistband of your jeans.

your lips crash into his in a messy, hungry kiss. he tightens his grip onto your thigh, sweeping your other leg from underneath you, forcing you to stumble onto the bed. you gasp against his mouth as he grinds his erection against your clothed heat, allowing his tongue to slip past your lips.

your hands roam over his chest, desperately twisting at the fabric of his shirt. he takes the hint, swiftly pulling it over his head and discarding it with the rest of his dirty laundry that lays in a pile on the floor. you follow suit, evening out the playing field–but not for long.

he undoes the button on your jeans, arms hooking around your legs as he peels them off. his lips never leave your skin for long–trailing a line of kisses from your jaw down to your inner thigh–until your legs are trembling beneath him and your voice is nothing more than a whisper of his name.

“god, look at you,” he worships, gently thumbing over your clit. “so perfect for me.” you whine at his words, hips shamelessly lifting off the mattress. he chuckles at your desperation, “sooo needy.” he hooks his fingers around the band of your panties, pulling them down your figure at a painfully slow pace. he’s practically torturing you, and enjoying every second of it.

“josh–please~” you breathlessly plead. there’s that stupid cheesy smile again, “well, since you asked so nicely…” he dips his tongue into your cunt with all the fervor of a starved man–drawing tight circles on your swollen clit as he coaxes you open. you bring a hand to his hair, tugging at the dark locks, your other grasps onto his navy sheets. his eyes never leave yours, drawing you further in as your climax grows closer.

“fuck josh, 'm gonna-”

you’re cut off by the wave of pleasure that crashes over you.

he lifts his head, a string of spit connecting his swollen lips to your pussy. he runs his thumb along his chin–slick with a mixture of saliva and cum–before sucking it in and out his mouth with an obnoxious pop. it’s a vulgar sight, but the prettiest you’ve ever seen. “so sweet,” he smirks, before pulling you into a sloppy kiss.

you fumble with the button on his jeans, dragging down his zipper with a satisfied sigh. “impatient much?” he teases, nipping at your bottom lip. you let out a whimper, “mhm~” josh groans, low and guttural, “jesus christ, you’re something else.” he pulls a condom out of his back pocket before hurriedly kicking off the denim. he removes his gray boxers–now stained with precum–soon after, simultaneously tearing at the foil with his teeth and rolling the rubber onto his length.

fuck he’s big. you’re practically gawking, almost wincing at the thought of taking all of him.

he recognizes the hesitation in your eyes, brushing his thumb back and forth over your cheek. his tone is soft, but his words send a fiery heat to your core, “you’re okay, you can take it baby. be so good for me.”

you let out a breathy moan as he rubs the tip of his dick through your soaked folds. he begins to push into you, slowly, inch by inch. your moans quickly turn to choked sobs. the stretch stings, but if it doesn’t hurt so. fucking. good.

“atta girl, let me hear all those pretty noises.” your walls flutter around his cock at the praise. “ohh fuck~” he sputters–head dropping at the sensation–“yeah, squeeze me just like that baby.”

you bring your legs up to wrap around his waist as he fucks into you, nails clawing down his back at the erratic pace. the sounds of slapping skin and your broken moans–now borderline pornographic–fill the room, drowning out the party just below you. he finds a delicious rhythm, each snap of his hips pushing you closer to the edge.

“m’fuck josh, please” you plead as he wraps a hand around your throat, giving it a light squeeze. “yeah? ya like that? so-fuck-hot.” your eyes roll back as you are overcome with ecstasy. “come on baby, be a good girl and cum on my dick.”

with that, you come undone–melting into the mattress as josh continues to use your pussy as his own. he follows just behind you, spilling into the condom with a few more thrusts. he collapses next to you, flushed and fully fucked out. he’s never looked better.

“best. pussy. ever.” you giggle at your new superlative, but not before reaching for a pillow to smother him with.

still a total loser.

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