#girls in the back mixing fruit cocktails without the cock
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Scarlet: Why do you surround yourself with so many pretty men? Hmm? You like men or something? Hmmmm?
Funny: Scarlet, I swear—
Scarlet: I know what you are. You don’t have to stay in the closet. I still love you.
Funny: Oh my god.
#honestly tho why is everyone so damn pretty in part 7#pretty people for days#not legss#jjba#jojo's bizarre adventure#steel ball run#jojo part 7#jjba sbr#jojo sbr#sbr#funny valentine#scarlet valentine#not that scarlet actually cares if her husband’s a little fruity#girls in the back mixing fruit cocktails without the cock#what#kinda an#incorrect quote
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Title: Being So Normal Part: One Pairing: Black!Reader/Bucky Barnes Summary: Neither of them are very good at being normal. Good thing the spectrum of normalcy these days is anything but the definition of the word. In other words: two broken people mend together. Warnings: typical canon level violence, mentions of past abuse both physical and emotional, alcohol abuse and mentions of, drug abuse and mentions of.
Chapter Theme: Being So Normal, Peach Pit
Notes: Just a little self-indulgent series that's been sitting in the back of my brain that I have finally decided to work on after kinda scraping the previous one.
Sort of a Neighbors's AU mixed with a Coffee Shop Au. Lots of character introspection for the reader, and Bucky, and some fun and drama along the way. This will no doubt be a slow slow burn.
Hope yall enjoy and feel free to leave any comments or hit me with questions! Oh, mood board slapped together by me! Also, no Beta. Tbh I'm lazy and impatient so excuse any mistakes.
Saturday: 11:30pm
Sam was the one who convinced him to come---or maybe forced would be the better word. Life has been returning to somewhat normal for the two of them; Sam shouldering his mantle as Captain America, and James slowly easing into his role as Sergeant Barnes rather than The Winter Soldier. But, it’s not all easy, at least not for James. Normalcy is not his strong suit, not when the urgency of survival had been drilled into his skull for the past hundred years or so. Sure, he was comfortable, but not necessarily happy. James is lost, and no one can tell that more than Sam.
And that is how he’s found himself in this crowded club with flashing lights and a bass beat that he can feel in the pit of his stomach. It’s not that the environment is too much---it’s just that he feels so...odd out. After all, Jame’s idea of a night out used to be something more akin to a jazz bar and dancing. Not whatever gyrations and wiggling around the kids called dancing was these days.
God, he really is old.
“You gotta loosen up man, you’re killing my vibe.” Sam, as if on cue, shoulders into him. James scowls, making sure to keep a tight grip on his beer---if you could even call it that. The brewery it was from managed to pack so many damn spices and fruit in it that it tasted more like a cocktail than any beer he’s come to like.
“You’ve got a weird vibe then, Sam.” the other man laughs, elbows resting against the bar top behind them while he scopes out the scene. It’s a typical New York club; fashion being the forefront of it all, the entire reason anyone is out right now is to be seen and admired. Among other things.
“That cutie over there keeps tossing you looks, you should go say hi.” James follows Sam’s gaze across the bar. A gaggle of young women crowds around a booth, all of them eyeing them and whispering to one another. He rolls his eyes and takes a long swig of his beer.
“I think you mean they’re looking at you, Sam.” The super soldier turns back toward the bar to push his empty glass to the bartender who only nods his way and produces a refill without another word.
“Eyes up, Sergeant, they’re coming over.”
James doesn’t pay any mind to the coming onslaught; it’s always the same really. Sam is descended on by a group of gals excited to meet the new Captain America and even more enthralled when they realize he’s pretty damn charming. Not that he’s jealous in any way. Annoyed? Sure. See, he just isn’t one for new people---especially the kind that Sam tends to attract sometimes. The airheads, the young ones just waiting to hook up and never talk again. He just can’t vibe with it, can’t grasp it. Maybe he is too old for this modern age of love and romance.
James just turns his attention to the muted TV over the bar, his back facing the chatty group of women behind him while they flock to Sam like vultures starving for a meal. The news flashes between stories from all over; follow-ups on the last of the Flag Smashers, some weird disturbances in a tiny town somewhere far off, and a local story on a stray cat that is just “too cute to not have a home.” He snorts, lips smacking from the twang of his beer.
“Sorry about them.” The tiny voice from his left nearly makes him jump, and James can only blame the blaring music for his lack of attention.
“Huh?” He peers down to see an average height woman; with big brown eyes and skin a deep tan and sunkissed. By all accounts, she is stunning---and looks nearly as out of place in this massive club as he does.
“My friends---” her head jerks towards the group of women still fawning over Sam, who no doubt is loving all of the attention. “I tried to explain to them that you guys are just normal people too," she thinks they're normal? "but the alcohol made them all braver than they normally are.” The woman rolls her eyes but by the soft smile she wears he can tell she means no malice.
“And what about you?” James leans his full weight on the bar top now all the while inching closer to the woman. He can read the confusion on her face. “Are you feeling braver than normal?” she flushes at his clarification, and an easy shrug rolls from the shoulder.
“I’m just the mom friend trying to make sure my friends don’t end up dead, in jail, or worse.” James can’t help but laugh at that.
“A mom friend, huh?” gloved fingers pluck the pint glass from the bar and neither of them breaks eye contact while he swallows nearly half the glass.
“Yeah, kind of how I’ve always been; just an eighty-year-old woman at heart I guess.” James gives her a crooked grin: he could understand that.
“You’re too young to talk like that.” he elbows her gently, suddenly so comfortable with her presence that he can feel himself loosening up a bit.
“Then what’s your excuse?”
Brows cock high, that twisted little grin never once wavering from his face. He likes her---the idle and quiet wit, the way she matches his quips with equal stride.
“What’s your---” but before he can finish the group of girls are flagging her down, yanking her arm in one direction while they all gossip about how someone managed to snag Captain America’s number. James watches while she shoots him an apologetic smile while she is all but dragged back to their booth across the dance floor. Before he knows it, her face is lost in a sea of people.
“You would pick up the prettiest one.” Sam’s voice yanks James from his thoughts, and he looks up with narrowed eyes. ���Don’t think I didn’t see that little flirt session. You get her number?”
“I’m going home.” James slaps a crisp bill on the bar top and Sam laughs, all loud and boisterous.
“You didn’t even get her name, did you, man?”
“Good night, Sam!” with hands shoved deep in his pockets, James turns heels and heads home.
Sunday: 8:am
The mornings were his favorite time to jog. Consider it a coping mechanism---not that he necessarily needed to go for mile-long runs or work out, what with the serum, but it was the only time his mind was truly quiet. So, James kept to a strict schedule of an hour or so run every morning followed up by a tall dark roast. Only today, he is late by nearly an hour to get to his usual coffee spot; which wouldn’t be terrible but James lives for routines. Without one, his entire day is skewed.
It’s eight in the morning when he strolls into the coffee shop, a tiny little place sat precariously on the corner of two streets only a couple blocks from his apartment. Clad in joggers and a simple black t-shirt, he strides up to the counter; eyes glued to the menu board for any new sweets that may catch his eye.
“Well hi again.” brows grow taught at their center---he knows that voice. James looks down to see the same woman from the night before. Black hair is piled high on her head and rather than the slim little dress from the night before she sports simple leggings and a graphic shirt of which the reference he is utterly lost on.
“Oh. Hi...uh....” blue eyes look for a name tag, and he finds none. Damn it.
“Y/N” she smiles wide at him, much like she had in the club only this time, with better lighting, he can make out the dimples that crease each of her cheeks.
“Y/N.” he repeats her name back slowly. “Uh, nice to meet you, or see you again. I guess.” he points to himself, “I’m Bucky.” said so lamely, so simply, he really can’t blame her for laughing at him.
“I know. What can I get for you, James?”
James.
That throws him; tosses him so off-kilter the man can hardly remember his order. Sure a couple people call him James, well really only his mother and his therapist when he’s in deep shit but…. To hear a name nearly forgotten to himself, and from her? Well, it turns his brain to static.
“Just a large black coffee and one of those brownies please.” She nods and starts to prep his order, all the while he stands there like an idiot with a ten-dollar bill in his hand and his heart in his throat. Finally, he finds a safe landing back on earth.
“How was the rest of your night with your friends?” Y/N groans while she pours him a fresh cup of coffee.
“Catty. I finally got the last one home around three in the morning. Got home just in time for a nap before I came in here.”
“That sounds---awful.” James trades her the coffee for the ten, and watches while she works the register.
“Wasn’t so bad. I don’t sleep much these days anyway.” Y/N offers the change back to James but only nods his head toward the tip jar.
“Sounds like you earned it. Did you just start working here?" he's never seen her working here before, and per his routine, James is here around this time at least five times a week.
"Covering for a friend, I usually work the closing shift if I'm not teaching." Teaching? James would assume she'd be on the younger side to teach.
"I'll have to come more often around that time then." he watches while round cheeks twitch, and flush.
“Deal. I’ll uh...see you around, James?”
“Y-yeah. See you around, Y/N”
#james bucky barnes#james barnes#reader insert#bucky/reader#bucky/you#james bucky barnes/reader#james bucky barnes/you#mcu fic#mcu reader insert#reblogs more than welcome#actually encouraged#thank
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true love
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
warnings: fluff && smut, bucky being a cheeky little shit and soft boy
word count: 2.7k
description: stripper au; bucky is a tease and honestly just such a gooey romantic. just a little snapshot.
A strip club before hours. Inside you’d find the dancers stretching, practicing new routines and a loop of the same song over and over again until they were satisfied or being forced to move onto something else. The servers are wiping down tables, setting up for bachelorette parties and straightening the chairs around the main stage. The host was cleaning the mirrors and the front door with Windex, knowing that they would just be covered with prints from hands and fingers an hour into the night.
The bar was being stocked, backup bottles. Fruit was being cut and sangria being prepped. Gallons of it. The clientele loved sangria. The cocktail of the night, special for the bride to be prepped for the bachelorette party, paid for in advance by the bottle. A sugar bomb of midori sour and vodka, cherries and club soda. Neon green and toxic, it made you gag just mixing it together.
It was the same thing every night. Another bachelorette party, another batch mixed drink, another stack of ones ready to be switched out for bigger bills the clients needed to break in order to stuff those dollar bills in the g-string of one of the many handsome performers that would take the stage tonight.
A destination strip club under the same corporation that owned Magic Mike, just on the east coast. It would be busy. But you and the other three bartenders were ready, the money was good here. Too good for you to ever consider leaving. And since the clientele was made in its entirety women and gay men, you felt safe working there. No sleazy guy on his sixth bud lite wanting to grab your ass as you cleaned up after his spilled beer. Granted some of the clients were still hellish, but you’d take not getting groped over being sexually harassed by bar patrons any day.
The lights would drop low soon, music pumping through the speakers as the DJ finishes setting up his booth. The endless grind from 8pm to 3am that would leave you ready for some diner food and bed.
“Boys!” You call, “What do you want?” Allowed a start of work drink, you called to the men standing on the stage.
“Anything you wanna give me sugar.” You glare at the first man to respond, his cheeky grin knowing how much you hated it when he called you sugar, how patronizing.
“Okay, everyone but Bucky,” You laugh, “What do you want?” The man in question slipping off the stage to walk over and help distribute shots.
“Why are you always so mean to me?” Pouting and arms crossed on the bar. You roll your eyes pouring the requests of green tea shots across the board. And an extra-large one for you and your favorite performer.
“Why are you always so annoying?” A rebuttal. But he loved it. He always does. Your shot glass clinking against his, tapping on the bar top and shot back in two.
“I love you.” He hums, stealing a kiss. The tip of his tongue brushing your bottom lip softly before pulling away and setting his shot glass in yours.
“I love you too.” A shared grin. “Have fun tonight.”
“Oh I will.” He’s cheeky, but it’s a part of him that you found so endearing.
A story you’re sure you’d tell the grandkids, how you met him in the first place. Back when you first started working here. He’d already been performing for a while. Back when you were waiting tables and having to deal with the sloppy drunk clients without a buffer of service bar in between.
Truly romantic how he’d been grinding himself against a woman in a bridal sash and giving you the same cheeky grin that he gives you now. You watched him grip himself through the silk thong and tripped and spilled your tray over a table and all the clients sitting there. An order to go get some air and you cried in the alley behind the building thinking that you were going to get fired and when his set was finished he came looking for you.
“They’re not going to fire you,” He soothed, pulling you into his arms, “You’re gonna be just fine.” You choked out nasty sobs into his chest, the thin zip hoodie he was wearing doing nothing to disguise the firm bare flesh underneath, you maybe pretended to have the need to be held a little longer than you actually did.
That incident was something he carefully held over your head to this day, a funny jab, especially after a night of seeing stars and loud moans. The paint chipped and wall worn where the headboard slammed into it. He wouldn’t paint over it as a matter of pride. A story of his sexual prowess and ability to bend you in half and make you cum so hard that you blackout or cry split on his dick.
He’d convinced you to go back into the club after you calmed down, he bought you a drink after the shift had ended, and then ate you out on his couch after you’d had pancakes at the diner below his apartment. And you’d been in love ever since.
That sick, ooey-gooey, no you hang up kind of love.
“You guys are so gross.” Nat bumped her hip against yours, grabbing the remaining shot glasses and sitting them in the dishwasher. You laugh.
The night began with body paint and blacklights. A steady pump of bass as each performer took the stage, they made their rounds around the room. Back curtains closing for private dances. The bar was full and service bar was popping, the tickets endless. The tip jar stuffed full. A good night. As bachelorette parties often were. They would take up a nice little section, the rest of the walk-ins and birthday parties, etc. taking up the rest of the space.
You could feel his eyes on you, the little games he liked to play at work. He knew you would look at him. The way he danced on stage, sinking down to let someone stick a dollar on his hip. The way he grabbed himself to the squeals of women.
The fucking tease, tugging his lip and meeting your eye. A playful smirk. Watching you shake a drink.
The first time he played this game was the day after he made you cum on his tongue, then his fingers, then his cock. Twice. As you wait tables, he would give you that little smirk, the grind of his hips, a brush against you as you walked around him with your tray. A playful tug on your skirt.
It would end with his back on the wood floor of his apartment, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise while you rode yourself to orgasm. Knees red and sore. And continue after eating a snack on his kitchen floor, your back now on the linoleum and your knees pressed to your chest while you dug your fingernails into his biceps and down his back. Something hastily fixed with concealer for his next performance.
Your friends outside of work didn’t quite understand how you could deal. “How could you be okay with him grinding himself over other people all night?” But you knew one thing more than anything else,
Bucky Barnes was such a simp.
He fucking loved you. And you knew it. He would never let you forget it. Bucky Barnes was the most affectionate, needy, clingy, I would die for you and all you have to do is ask kind of guy. He was the kind of guy to tell you that he missed you when you just went to the store. The kind of guy that would hop in the shower with you just because he wanted to wash your hair.
“I’m not worried.” You would laugh, “Not in the slightest.” And you knew you didn’t have to be. If the way he would hop up on your bar and tug on your hair mid dance was anything to say, him stuffing bills into your bra while you let a girl do a body shot out of his belly button. You didn’t care as much as those dollars and groping hands on his thick thighs you loved to ride would be paying your rent later.
These clients may be groping him now, but later on it’s your thighs that his head will be between.
It’s their money that will be sitting on your living room floor while both of you unwrinkled the freshly washed money. Their money you would use to buy groceries and pay for your portion of the family vacation you were going on in a few months with the Barnes clan.
The shift ends and you’re left cleaning up. With three other pairs of hands it’s quick work, but burning the ice takes a minute, long enough for Bucky to already be sitting down in front of the bar and sorting your tips out for you, sipping on an after shift drink the two of you were sharing.
“We going to Norma’s?” As the other men sunk down behind the bar, a few waving their goodbyes on their way out the door.
“Sam.” Bucky looked at his friend, “We go to Norma’s every night and every night you ask if we are going.”
“It’s because he likes that waitress.” Nat grinned, flipping the dishwasher on to run the bar mats. A glare from Sam,
“I love that waitress.” The bumbling idiot fawned over her and always tipped her $50 on his $8 patty melt. A shared laugh,
“You’ve asked her out, how many times now?” Steve, thankful for the leftover sangria in front of him, took a sip.
“Just like four, five maybe.” Bucky lifted the pint glass, salt lining the rim and a few granules left on his bottom lip. “This margarita is good sweetheart.” A recipe you found online, something new you’d wanted to try. You hum, taking a sip and nodding. “She doesn’t like you.” Directed at Sam. “You need to stop making her job so difficult, you’re a creep.”
“Am I a creep?” Sam looks between you and Nat. The two of you sharing a look and nodding.
“No one wants to get hit on while they’re working.” You laugh, “That’s all.” He huffs, leaning against the back of the bar stool.
“You guys got any of that neon shit left?” The last little bit of the bachelorette slosh at the bottom of the Cambro. Poured in a glass for him with an apologetic smile.
“I already burned the ice.” He muscled it down.
Bucky’s hand in your back pocket with you tucked into his side you entered the familiar diner and slipped into your usual booth, a playful squeeze to your ass before you sunk down next to each other. Sam, Nat, and Steve across.
His hand settles on your thigh as the waitress Sam was in love with brought over two pitchers of water and glasses, more to make her job easier because these boys were thirsty at the end of the night after performing for hours on end.
A minute later she’d return with a couple sodas and take the order. Sam looking dutifully down at his phone and trying to avoid her eyes.
“You can act like a normal person.” You laugh, our leg going across Bucky’s thigh. “You’re acting like even more of a weirdo.”
“Just relax.” Nat’s hand smoothed over Sam’s arm and he lets out a deep breath. “Don’t be weird.” Easier said than done, he took the fact that you told him not to flirt with her as erasing his whole personality.
“You’ve ruined him.” Steve sipped his water, “The both of you.” A pout to stern Dad-Steve, and he rolled his eyes with a smirk, leaning against the booth and throwing an arm over the back. “He’ll never be able to perform again.”
“Fuck all of you.” Sam glared as peals of laughter broke out at the table. A shift as you felt Bucky’s fingers play with the hem of your shorts. Dipping under a little bit. Your hand slips down and grabs his, pulling his hand away with a playful glare.
“Stop.” Whispered between you as Sam pretended to cry and Nat seemed about done with it.
“I wanna play.” A kiss on your lips. You shake your head and roll your eyes, directing your attention back to your friends.
“Later.”
Later would find him on his back lips red bitten and swollen from kissing as you yank his jeans down his legs, leaving him in just his briefs, the hard outline of his cock pressing against them. Your shorts and panties tugged down your legs, crawling over him to hover over his face. His arms wrapping around your thighs and bringing you down to his mouth.
The grind of your hips on his tongue and the rough stubble burning your thighs. Those moans vibrating against your clit, panting moans coming from your mouth as you grip the headboard and find the friction your need to cum. Working out your aftershocks on his tongue.
A shift of position would find your back against the mattress, your legs over his arms and hooked into his elbows, the blunt head of his cock circling your entrance with the teasing roll of his hips. His mouth against yours, sucking on your tongue and tugging your bottom lip between his teeth.
He starts off slow. A gasp into his mouth as he bottoms out, the tip of him brushing your cervix before he pulls almost all the way out, playing with short and fast thrusts against your g-spot. This was his major source of pride, having you drooling and stupid with lust under him, eyes rolling and nails digging into his back, clawing at his biceps, twisted in the sheets by your head while he rolls one of your nipples on his tongue.
The headboard slamming as you gush around his cock, the signal he needs to start thrusting in deeper to chase his own pleasure. Leaning back onto his heels and pressing your legs together, wrapping his arm around them and laying a kiss to your ankle. His red mouth panting as his hips slapped against yours. Your fingers dipping between your bodies to slap against your clit a couple times, the pleasure being too much. He pushes your hand out of the way, hand laying over your mons and thumb pressing against your clit, moving in tight circles.
“So fucking good for me baby.” A pant against your calf. “One more.” A groan, “Just one more.” You sob from the over-sensitivity as he brought you to one more orgasm, the towel laid out on the bed being put to good use as you squirt on his cock. His hips not relenting until you feel him cum, your legs shaking on his shoulders.
A kiss to your ankles. His hands massaging your legs as you come down. He lays himself on top of you, shifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he meets your lips once, twice, soft, “I love you.” And then with his head on your chest. You reason in that moment, and in every moment, that he was the best thing that ever happened to you.
Finding the club was the best thing that ever happened to you.
“You’re just so handsome.” Your hand on your fist, resting your elbow on the table, looking at him in admiration.
He grins around the lip of his coffee cup and softly massages your foot that was in his lap. The morning found you in the same diner as the night previous, enjoying what would be lunch for other people, but breakfast for the two of you.
“You’re just so beautiful.” His hand meeting yours on the table, a soft squeeze. “I love you.” Bringing his hand to your lips,
“I love you too.”
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#sebastian stan#steve rogers#captain america#sam wilson#natasha romanov#tfatws#the falcon and the winter soldier
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15th June 2021
I arrived at Miss L's and she was very excitable, as we kissed passionately, she was wearing a silk robe and panties, and that was it, as we walked ourselves into her kitchen / dining room, our lips and tongues still together... she was clearly really horny as she placed my hand between her legs, pressing it to her panties, making me feel how wet she was... I removed her gown and bent her over her table, face down, palms flat as I squatted underneath her, sliding her panties down to her ankles, spreading her legs wide as I started to eat her pussy and ass, licking at her clit and running my tongue over her asshole slowly and rhythmically as she tried to stay perfectly still, moaning so beautifully for me... I told her to stay still as I grabbed my shopping bag full of tasty things...
I started with honey, dribbling it over her ass, still bruised, from the prior night's fun, as she enjoyed feeling it, and I enjoyed watching it drip down her ass, into her pussy and down the backs of her legs... I squirted a large amount into her panties, pulling them back over both feet and up her legs slowly, before pulling them back up completely, pressing them hard into her, as she gasped in surprise, the sticky material pushing inside her, filling her pussy, and covering her ass with honey as they absorbed her juices... I slowly rubbed them into her as she remained bent over the table as she started to moan again... I grabbed more honey and dribbled it over her back, making sure to top up her panties and coat her ass with more too... then, I opened a large tub of Greek yoghurt, slowly pouring it over her as she gasped and tried to remain as still as she could... I started with her back, then moved down to her ass, as I rubbed the yoghurt / honey mixture into her ass and pussy with my fingers as she groaned in pleasure... I then rolled her over onto her back, moving her onto the table, I elevated her legs and removed her panties, screwing them up and sticking them in her mouth for her to enjoy, as I poured more yoghurt all over her breasts and stomach, getting her to elevate herself again, as I spread her legs and poured some over and inside her pussy and ass too...
Her breathing was heavy and her eyes locked onto mine, she was so wonderfully, deliciously messy...
I removed a pack of mixed fruit from the bag, opened it and slowly started to take some out, blueberries, raspberries, grapes, and strawberries, as I began to insert them inside her pussy and ass... after I'd successfully filled her with some fruit, I squatted on the floor, as I slowly teased the fruit out of her with my tongue, licking and sucking on her pussy and ass as I did so, taking time to enjoy and savour my delicious dessert... occasionally letting her taste too, by passing the fruit from inside her, to my mouth, and then to her's...
She led back, letting me enjoy her, as I started to lick at the yoghurt and honey coating her thighs, ass and legs, before removing my clothes, and climbing on top of her on the table, where our naked bodies entangled and we writhed together, coating ourselves in yoghurt and honey on top of her table as we kissed, hard and deep... I could feel the desire in her build as she grabbed my cock and guided it inside her, as I pulled her tight onto me, loving how her warm, wet, sticky pussy felt as it slid up and down on me... she started to moan louder and louder, and at this point I whispered in her ear that she wasn't allowed to cum until Friday... I forbade it... she whispered back that I was a bastard, as she rolled me over on the table, saying that if she wasn't allowed, then I wasn't either... she flashed me a wicked grin as she walked to the fridge, returning with a raspberry pavlova... she giggled as she dumped it on my still hard cock as I lay on the table, and started rubbing it into me, massaging it into my cock, as she made me harder and harder... she leaned over me whispering to me, reminding me that I was forbidden to cum too as she mercilessly rubbed the cream and fruit from the pavlova into my cock... without breaking eye contact, she started slowly licking, kissing, and sucking the pavlova off my cock... she was driving me crazy and my cock was rock hard, throbbing with desire... I managed to hold back as she teased me with her tongue and her mouth, slowly and thoroughly enjoying me... she then climbed up on the table and started to slowly drag her wet pussy over my cock, leaning in closer whispering how much she knew that I wanted to cum all over her, as she carried on grinding and pressing herself into me... I was in danger of exploding all over her, so quickly rolled her over onto her back, she giggled in surprise, as she bit her lip as she attempted to grab at my cock, rubbing it, but I pinned her down by her wrists... I whispered to her that it was now her turn, and we'd see if she could resist and hold back... I folded her over on the table, holding her ankles and wrists together so she couldn't escape, as I started to lick and lap at her greedily as she gasped in pleasure... I carried on licking her faster and faster as she led there folded over on her table getting wetter and wetter... I stopped briefly to lean in and kiss her, letting her taste herself on my lips, asking her whether she's going to hold out or whether she's going to cum like the messy girl that I know she is, and then get punished for it on Friday... all she could say through her panting and heavy breathing was: 'so unfair'...
I returned my tongue to her, gliding it over and around her clit, before plunging it back inside her wet warmth... she was starting to drip, her juices flowing more as I lapped at her faster, tongueing her deep, flicking it around thoroughly inside her, as I released one hand and started pressing, massaging and encircling her clit as I licked her fast and deep, my other hand now grabbing at her hips and ass, pulling her tight into me... she could of pushed away or tried to stop me, but at this point I knew how close she was and that she wanted it badly, despite whatever punishment she would be due... she started to tremble as her moans turned to cries, repeatedly saying 'fuck, I'm going to cum so hard'...
I grabbed her hips squeezing her into and around my tongue as I relentlessly licked her hard and deep, she frantically and rapidly rubbed her clit as she pulled me into her by the hair with her other hand, unable to take it anymore, making sure that she really did cum hard, as she squirted intensely, her juices spraying up all over us, as I tried to catch as much as I could in my mouth, before plunging my fingers into her deep, rapidly penetrating her over and over, causing her to squirt more of her delicious juices, angling her to make sure that she sprayed in her face as she cried out as her body spasmed hard with her climax... if she couldn't resist cumming, then the naughty girl would get nicely drenched too...
I helped her up telling her that she was so very naughty for cumming, and that a suitable punishment would be administered on Friday... I then said that I may as well cum now too, considering she couldn't control herself...
I pushed her down on the table, her ass up and ready for me, as I poured the rest of the yoghurt over her and then on my cock, before slowly entering her ass, as I started to pound her slowly, at first, on her kitchen table, pushing her head down into the cocktail of honey, yoghurt, pavlova and her juices, as I took her, faster and harder as she quickly lost control again squirting all over the table as she fingered herself rapidly as I filled her ass with my cock over and over again... I was getting closer, and she begged me to cum in her ass, as she dripped all over the table... I obliged as I pumped my warm cum deep into her ass just as she came again, crying out as she soaked the table again... my cum oozed out of her ass and down the backs of her legs as she lay there, panting and such a beautiful mess...
I climbed on the table with her and we enjoyed rolling around in the mess and rubbing it into our bodies as we kissed... we told each other how much we loved one another as we held each other tightly, and then we then cleaned up and headed to the shower, where we cleaned each other up, and enjoyed some tenderness before I was due to leave...
She had hidden my clothes as predicted, but I said I'd brought some spares... she sat quietly as I put them on, I walked into the hallway, and she followed my coyly... I knew she was up to something, but I didn't know what... she pulled me close and we kissed, what I assumed would be a goodbye kiss, until I felt her pull my trousers away and a cold thick substance ooze down, I looked down in surprise as she was pouring cold custard down my trousers...
She laughed hysterically as I pulled her towards me, as I made her kneel, pulling my trousers and boxers down forcing her to suck my custard covered cock in her mouth, which really wasn't much of a punishment, considering how greedy she was for it, but we were both very much turned on again by her naughtiness, and as she sucked me harder, I punished her a little by pouring the rest of the custard over her face and head as she took it all without even flinching, concentrating instead on taking my cock in her mouth...
I started to move her custard covered head into me, as I started to penetrate her throat harder and deeper, as she fingered herself through her panties, both enjoying the messy blowjob... I was close and pulled her away, saying that as she'd been so naughty, I was going to fill her panties with my cum... her reply of 'oh fuck yes' indicated that she would like this very much...
She opened her panties up for me as I pumped my cock, shooting cum inside them, and all over her pussy, before rubbing her panties into her, my cum splurting out over the sides, coating her thighs... she sighed in pleasure as she pressed her panties to her... I then watched as she cleaned up her hallway, still coated with custard and cum dripping from her panties... we then took another shower, and discussed how naughty she was and how much I love that about her, amongst so many other things... I had given up on going home at that point and we just collapsed into her bed after showering, holding each other close, enjoying being in each other's arms...
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