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gutsby · 3 days ago

Text

Older, Bolder

Pairing: GILF!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel can’t get it up.

Warnings: 18+. This fic is for LIMP DICK LOVERS ONLY. If y’all can’t rock with Joel’s flaccid cock, click AWAY 😫 Unprotected p-in-v / intercrural sex. Oral (m!receiving). Age gap unspecified but just know he’s AARP-eligible.

Word count: 3.0k

This wasn’t a problem he’d planned on having.

At twenty-five, he could’ve put you through the mattress four times over in one night and barely broken a sweat. At thirty-five, he could’ve bent you like a pretzel and fucked you eight ways to Wednesday twice a week.

Today, at the age he was, Joel Miller couldn’t stand from the sofa without feeling like bones were about to snap.

He wrote grocery lists and had to stop halfway to flex his hand. He pulled up his pants and damn near always felt a strain in his back. He kept a heating pad as a sidekick at work, and sometimes his baby brother teased him for it, then Joel would wag one liver-spotted finger Tommy’s way and say, ‘You’ll be like this, too, just wait.’ The Golden Years had a habit of sneaking up on people. Nobody warned him that one day he’d be waking up feeling fine and the next not able to wiggle his toes without a herculean effort. In short, old age sucked.

The only one who didn’t seem to mind as much was you.

And how could you? Joel always thought of it with some amusement. You hadn’t been alive long enough to know a single wrinkle, much less as many as he had, and your knees never cracked when you kneeled. He’d noticed that when you greeted him first thing that morning.

Mouth wide and eyes wider, you made for the perfect sight to his sleepy gaze when he lifted the comforter at 6 AM. Your tongue withdrew from the tip of his leaky cock.

“Your shift starts at seven, right?” you whispered.

Shit, he’d quit his whole job for one blowjob from you.

Joel nodded instead. He took a fistful of your hair and nodded again—keep lickin’ the tip just like you had it, honey, that’s it. His lids lowered. They nearly shut. Fifteen more seconds of this wet friction from your mouth and he’d be erect in no time. He knew he would.

These days, while his ‘morning wood’ was never quite what it used to be, and on some occasions like these he woke up completely limp, he was almost always able to coax his cock into it. Just took a little extra time and spit.

It wasn’t until your lips had slid up and down his soft shaft at least two dozen times and nothing stirred that Joel started to worry. He peeled the old coverlet back.

From where you lay between his legs, chin poised over his lap, you didn’t seem bothered. In fact, you were smiling. You’d just taken his flushed, bulbous head between your lips, and your tongue laved over the slit. Joel almost tore a hole in his throat at how good that felt—his groan was loud. The soft suckling noises of your mouth were slight in comparison, but they were purposeful and timed exactly right. His balls twitched.

He should’ve been rock-hard by now.

“‘M’sorry, sweetheart,” Joel grunted, watching you swallow down the soft flesh of him over and over again. “Damn thing just don’t wanna…cooperate this mornin’.”

“I don’t mind.”

You’d pulled off just long enough to say it. Then you were back to bobbing your head, eyes locked on his as you did

He didn’t deserve you.

That much was clear from the way you were sucking him dutifully—fucking cheerfully—like his flaccid dick was a three-star Michelin meal and you hadn’t eaten all day.

It was beyond the pale in the best way possible, and Joel felt guiltier and guiltier with every brush of your lips and tongue that followed. You shouldn’t have had to do this.

“Let me eat you out,” he said then. Abruptly. “Flip over.”

And he slid back on the bed, hearing the delicate, wet pop of his still-soft cock out of your mouth. You frowned.

“What the hell, Joel? I was just having fun,” you huffed.

You were what?

Was that not the most humiliating thing you’d ever seen?

“I can’t even keep a semi,” Joel retorted, almost as low. “Ain’t no use wastin’ our time on me ‘fore I gotta leave.”

Then he started to reach for your hips, about to turn you around and have his breakfast in bed, when your hand swatted him off. The other anchored itself on his thigh, and as you sat up, Joel could tell there was something more adamant in that. You regarded him with a scowl.

“If I wanted to make this about me, I would’ve grabbed my vibrator and gone to town already. This is for you.”

Before he could protest, you inched up some more.

You straddled the broad, muscly legs that had once been bracketing your head, and you placed a palm on his chest. You made him lean back against the headboard.

“Honey—” Joel started.

“Zip it, Miller.”

Well, goddamn. For a woman a fraction of his age and size, you commanded him well. He didn’t move a muscle.

He couldn’t deny that it turned him on, too. To think that you wanted him badly enough that you’d suck the sexual equivalent of a wet noodle and then get on top of him for more. Joel had to grit his teeth and steel himself when your hips shifted. You were bare under one of his t-shirts.

And your eyes were alight with rapt intrigue. Like he was something worth salivating over, and not some decrepit old man whose dick wouldn’t work. The smile you wore before had only grown bigger, and your thighs were squeezing his hips. Your heat was sliding up and—

“Fuck,” Joel hissed.

The breath was knocked out of his chest. That was how stunned he was to feel the seam of your cunt align with his length, which rested lazily across his lower stomach. You braced one hand on the headboard behind him, flattened the other palm to his chest, and again, lowered yourself, rubbed yourself, so that the underside of his shaft cut you down the middle. It parted your folds.

Your wetness was spreading down the length of him. Soft as it was, Joel was thankful he was a shower, not a grower, and he hadn’t lost too much of his size by not being hard. You were pressing yourself gently against him now, bracing your knees on the bed on either side of his body, and your gaze was gradually trailing to his face.

Your motions, much to his surprise, were slow. Sensual.

You weren’t in a hurry at all to get his dick hard. You simply followed what felt good: a little gyration of your hips, a press of your heat, gentle thrusts with your knees planted firmly on the bed. You were riding him, except you didn’t have him inside you at all. The expressions that crossed your face could’ve fooled Joel, though.

Brows knit together in a mixture of pleasure and purpose, you peered down at him and let out the smallest whimper. The sound was more like a breath, trapped somewhere in your chest and begging to be let out with each rut of your lower half. It was as if the action was getting you off—not fucking him, but humping him.

“That’s it, daddy…That’s—oh, fuck that feels nice.”

The speed of your motions increased the slightest amount, coating his cock from root to tip, and for a minute, Joel thought he might’ve stopped breathing.

He had stopped, briefly, just to suck in a breath and hold it, and, fuck, he didn’t want to let it out, because what if this was all a dream? What if he was seeing things, and you weren’t really grinding on his cock at all but laughing your ass off and leaving his bed? Heaving a sigh or rolling your eyes at the sight of him still not getting hard at this.

Joel looked down to double-check his traitorous dick.

The second he caught a glimpse of your sex and his sliding against one another, though, he let out a groan.

This had to be a fucking joke.

Go, go, go, go, GO! GROW!!

“You can do it, bud, just…” Joel trailed off, realizing that he was talking to his penis out loud. “Sorry. I’m…sorry.”

And truly, he was. He’d never felt more remorseful or dumb. On top of that, you probably thought he was nuts.

You only giggled in response.

You leaned back, dropped your chin, and directed your attention to Joel’s woefully soft and squishy member.

A fingertip prodded at it gently; he twitched.

“C’mon, you got this!” you cheered him on.

It was lighthearted. Easy. Kind of insane.

Here you both were, egging on his peri-geriatric penis to form an erection, when Joel should’ve been balls deep in you. Should’ve been giving you exactly what you needed, how you needed it, with little to no interference to your pleasure. And now here you were. Talking to it instead.

“I love you,” Joel blurted out.

He’d only said this a handful of times to date—your relationship was still relatively new—but at present, he couldn’t help it. You were making him laugh when just minutes ago he’d felt as humiliated as he’d ever been.

You leaned down to kiss him, and you said it back to him.

“I love you,” Joel murmured again, against your lips.

“I—” You shifted over his lap, so that your lower halves were re-aligned and he could feel you. “I love you, Joel.”

The sound of those words, paired with the soft, warm friction of your bodies moving in tandem, had pleasure pooling through his gut. Driving up his spine. Stirring something dark and familiar in his mind—arousal.

A second after that, something stiffened in his lap.

Just a little bit. ‘Stiff’ was the key word there, not hard—Joel tried not to grow too excited while it seemed that his dick was filling with blood and the flesh was gradually getting firmer than it had been before. Still, he grinned.

He was back to kissing you, and you’d felt it too.

Your fingers wriggled on his chest. You started rocking back and forth, a bit more quickly now, and hummed.

You pulled away to catch your breath.

“Does that…help?” you murmured.

“What?”

“My…when I rub— here?”

You were trying so hard to help. You must’ve had no clue it’d been two utterances of ‘I love you’ from your lips that had stoked the fire within him. The friction helped, no doubt, but it was you and what you felt that made it happen—got him harder. Joel’s grin stretched bigger.

“Sweetheart, it’s—”

“‘Cause we can switch it up a little. I bet variety helps.” Suddenly, you were leaning back and lifting your hips. You gripped the base of him, now almost upright between your body and his, and started stroking him.

That felt good.

That felt really good.

But anything from you was bound to feel like that.

Joel’s smile wavered momentarily as another jolt of pleasure coursed through him. He couldn’t control the reflex; his hips bucked up from the mattress, and in your hold, the head of his cock bumped right against your clit.

You whimpered.

Your slit was all but dripping with heat. Ready for him.

“Goddamn,” Joel grit out, eyes fixed on that spot.

“Jerk your cock against me, daddy.”

His gaze shot up.

“Yeah, baby?”

The man scarcely knew what it was that he was doing in the moment, or how this might please you—all he wanted was to follow what you’d told him to do.

He nodded dumbly. Grabbed the base of his partly-erect dick and guided the tip to your clit again. He rubbed it.

Your head dropped back on a strangled-sounding moan. Joel rubbed harder—faster, to match the rhythm of your hips—and his own lips parted, betraying a look of awe.

You were writhing above him, reveling in the sensation.

Joel blinked, and he completely forgot his predicament. He dismissed from his mind that slight, inconsequential matter of not being able to get himself hard, and he flipped you. Your body fell prone on the bed beneath him.

And, focused on his pleasure as you were, you might’ve protested. Joel was quick to cut it off when he rolled you onto your side and wedged a leg between your knees.

“Open for me,” he murmured beside your ear.

You whined, ‘Jo-el,’ weakly, but obliged.

“Daddy, it’s supposed to be for y—”

Your last words splintered off. Joel was pushing his dick between your thighs—drenched as both the insides of your legs and his length happened to be, it was easy—and he slid it back and forth. He sawed his half-hard cock like he was fucking you from the inside out, and your answering moan was enough to show him that you liked it. Your head tilted back, against his shoulder, and Joel increased the speed of his thrusts. He smirked.

“This is for me, baby,” he assured you quietly.

Then, he notched his tip at your entrance.

“And this…is for you,” he finished.

Just as your moan morphed into a whine once again, he was pushing in—no more than an inch, but in—and his own breath caught. Joel groaned at the warmth and the wetness, the sheer stricture of your cunt that seized his length like a fist. Your walls pulsed at the feeling. You leaked around that one intruding inch and reached behind you to grip Joel’s neck. You cursed softly.

“Shit, daddy. He’s— he’s in me.” Half-disbelief.

“That’s right. Ain’t that where he belongs?”

You didn’t have to answer that. You simply lifted one leg higher and let him rut in deeper. You fisted the hair at the nape of his neck, and you tilted your hips to him. You soaked him in warmth. Though he didn’t have a full view of your expression from behind, Joel could see that your jaw was hanging slack and your lids were heavy—the eyes rolled back at a third stab of his hips. He fucked in.

Joel still wasn’t fully hard. That was just another part of being old, and he was done pretending like he wasn’t the age he was. You didn’t mind the age he was. If the noises bubbling up in your throat, the wet squelch of your cunt every time he drove home, and the grip on his neck, the gentle, ‘Oh, daddy, like that’ wasn’t proof enough of how much you liked it, the tremors in your legs certainly were.

They were slight. Joel knew what they signified, though.

With three inches wedged inside you, he leaned down.

“Is my sweet girl ready to cum?” he pressed gently.

You bit your bottom lip once before whimpering:

“I— I wanna get you hard first, daddy. Please.”

It was like you needed it. That urge to put him first was unyielding, even in a condition like this, and Joel wanted nothing more than to sate the desire. He also wanted to give you the orgasm you deserved, so he ground himself into your ass. He withdrew to the tip, kissed the warm, sensitive spot behind your ear, then plunged back in.

You convulsed around him.

“That’s it,” Joel went on. His mouth was so close to your skin you were no doubt feeling the grit of his stubble with every word he spoke. He hoped you didn’t mind it.

“That’s a good girl. Daddy’s nearly there. Let the sweet feelin’ in, and I promise I’ll be right behind ya, honey.”

“You— you’ll be hard? You’ll get to finish, too?”

“Givin’ ya ropes an’ ropes of the stuff, sweet pea. Enough to flood your tummy with it. Just…gimme one…good…”

“Oh!”

You let out a cry when he drove in deep.

He wasn’t even sure how he did it; his cock just throbbed and pulsed and pushed through your heat like this was right where he needed to be. He pressed in to the hilt, felt his tip kiss somewhere close your cervix, and that was when it happened again. You clawed at his neck.

You raked your nails down harder and shrieked.

“Oh, fuck, Joel, fuck, fuck, fuck—I love you!”

And that was enough for him, too.

In all the decades of life Joel Miller had lived, he couldn’t recall a single time he wasn’t fully hard and able to cum. But here he was. As soon as you finished, he filled you up like it was nothing. It had to have been the intonation of those words, or else your fingers threading through his hair, pulling tight, and gushing your release all over his cock that helped him get there. Every last sign that you were his, that you loved him, pushed him over the edge.

He was mumbling the same into your skin with each hot, pulsing jet of his seed. He buried his face into the crook of your neck and nearly whimpered. He couldn’t help it.

I love you.

Like a broken refrain, he kept grunting, thrusting, and pushing his cum as deep into your cunt as your body would allow it, and when he was spent, he kept going.

“I love you, Joel.”

You whispered it again. You hardly could’ve expected the effect it would have as soon as the words left your lips.

Joel wasn’t exactly prepared for it, either.

As tired as he was, as old as he was, he hadn’t thought it was even possible. But for the second time that morning, he found himself proven wrong. He let out a soft groan.

And, buried eight inches deep, drenched to the hilt in his own pleasure and yours, Joel felt it—he was finally hard.

His cock was swollen to full capacity, while his balls had just emptied themselves dry. Your bodies were drained.

Faintly, he caught wind of a laugh.

It rumbled through your ribcage and made its way to his. Joel dropped his head to your shoulder, grinning, because of course he got a boner right then.

“Down to run it back after work, old man?”

Joel chuckled. He glanced at the clock.

Leave in five minutes or you’ll be late.

He shrugged and pulled you closer.

“I think I’d better just call in sick.”

now imagine a follow-up crackfic where joel buys those gas station boner pills for funsies and gets hard as SHIT for fourteen hours and fucks you through every minute of it

((apparently any erection that lasts over four hours warrants a trip to the ER but let’s just pretend))

#PUTTING THE ‘FUN’ IN ERECTIL E DYSFUNCTION HELLO!!!!#I WANT YOU TO PUT THE WORD OUT THERE………..THAT WE’RE BACK UP #IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller tlou #the last of us fic

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