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cevansbrat0007 · 4 months ago

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The Anatomy of an Orgasm

Summary: You make the mistake of faking an orgasm while in bed with Ari...

Warnings: Light Angst, Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Smut, Oral Sex (fem rec), Fake Orgasms, Stubborn Reader, Hurt Feelings, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt courtesy of @writer84. Takes place early in Ari and Bird's relationship. Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

When you think back to the early days of your relationship, one thing that always surprises you is just how perceptive this man could be sometimes – especially when it came to you. Even now, that man continues to watch you like a hawk, taking in your every movement.

And listening to your every word.

You know it’s because he’s trying to anticipate your needs. Every day he wakes up, Ari Levinson strives to be the man you need him to be. Your safety and security are of paramount importance to him. He’s the type of man to take on your worries as his own. The type of man to help you master your fears. Over time he’s become more than just your champion. He’s also your biggest cheerleader.

Which is why there’s this expectation that now exists between the two of you – one forged by trust, as well as honest and open communication. And while this is something that seems to come easy to your bounty hunter, sometimes it proves to be a little more challenging for you.

It’s hard not to bottle everything up. It’s natural for you to simply stuff things down and wait until everything exploded later.

Because up until this point, you’d never had someone with whom you could share the weight of your world – even though Ari continues to show you that nothing is too much for his broad shoulders to carry.

Tonight you’re lying in bed on your back, your legs draped over Ari’s muscled shoulders. His handsome face is currently buried between your thighs while he makes a meal out of your pussy. Your spine arches when you feel him suck your swollen clit between his lips, applying just pressure to have your eyes rolling back in your head.

Or at least it would…if you could get yourself to relax enough to actually enjoy it.

“Taste so good, baby.” Your man rasps once he releases you, taking a moment to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss along the curve of your inner thigh.

“Uh huh.” You mumble, throwing your arm over your eyes as he gets back to his dessert.

Ari nuzzles your dripping cunt with the tip of his nose, growling when he’s rewarded with a soft whine from you. And you can’t stop your hips from bucking when he slowly spears two thick fingers inside you, pumping them in and out in time with his wicked tongue.

Any other time you would’ve been well on your way to your second orgasm, if not coasting along to your third. But every time you try to give over the pleasure, your traitorous mind keeps deciding to wander...

Sales at the bookstore were down this month. And the latest series, featuring a brand new, up-and-coming author, hadn’t performed anywhere near as well as you’d initially thought it would. Which was surprising to say the least – especially since the woman had spent the last month being featured on virtually every single morning daytime talk show that promised her an audience.

And then there was all the shit you had on backorder. Items that were effectively stuck in limbo until the day they finally arrived on your doorstep. Hopefully sometime before next year.

You remind yourself to moan when Ari picks up his pace, your hips writhing beneath him as you try to hide the fact you’re becoming increasingly distracted. But try as you might, the disconnect between your mind and your body only continues to grow.

A sharp cry escapes your throat when you feel his fingers curl, delicately stroking that special place inside you that normally made sparks dance behind your eyes.

“That’s it, little Bird.” Ari grunts, his eager tongue lashing against your clit. “Be a good girl and cum for me. Wanna taste it.”

Yeah, there was no way you were gonna get there tonight. Not like this.

“Give it to me, baby.” He orders again. “Right fuckin’ now.”

At a loss for what else to do, you bear down, desperately clenching around him in what you hope is a believable performance. “Oh god, Beast!” You repeat the action again and again, making sure to accompany it with several breathy little sighs.

“Wow.” You breathe once Ari finally releases his grip on your hips. Now that you’re free, you quickly scoot away and begin searching for your discarded panties, which wasn’t typical behavior for you. You were more the type that preferred to bask in bliss.

But not tonight. Because you’d just faked an orgasm with this gorgeous man.

Right now you felt sweaty and awkward, and you needed space to breathe. You refuse to even look in Ari’s direction as you hastily begin to redress, lest he see right through you.

"That was great." You mumble lamely.

“What are you–where are you goin’?” A pang of guilt hits you when you note the confusion in his tone.

“Huh?” You slip his t-shirt over your head. He wouldn’t mind that you were leaving him half-naked, since he was wearing his boxer briefs. “I’m just gonna…go clean up. Maybe work off some of this excess energy.”

That last sentence has you inwardly face palming. What a stupid thing to say to a man like Ari Levinson.

“Hey, come back here a second…” You watch out of the corner of your eye as he sits up in bed. At times like this you were reminded that the man in your bed was also a detective, which meant he came equipped with a sixth sense for bullshit.

Mainly yours.

“Stay here and relax.” You tell him, making your way towards the door. “I just…know I won’t be able to sleep knowing I left behind a sink full of dirty dishes.”

“C’mere first.”

Shaking your head, you head for the stairs. At that moment, even the underlying authority in his voice wasn’t enough to make you obey. You always seemed to find a sense of calm when you cleaned. Fingers crossed that it worked tonight.

You’re gifted with a whopping ten minutes to yourself before you hear your man lumbering down the stairs. Rinsing a plate under hot water, you hope that he’s only stopping in for a glass of water and not because he wants to talk.

Grimacing, you move on to the next soiled piece of dishware, scrubbing vigorously. Your back remains turned, just as it had upstairs. Perhaps if you avoided eye contact he would simply grab his beverage and go on his merry way.

“Bird.”

Your beloved pet name rumbles from somewhere deep in his chest. However, you refuse to look at him, seemingly content to focus on the task at hand.

“Clean glasses are in the cupboard.”

“Hey.“ You startle when you feel two large, warm hands settle on your hips, followed by the soft skim of lips along the curve of your ear. “Stop.”

“But I’m not done.” You mumble, blinking back tears for some stupid reason you can’t quite name. “Everything needs to be dried and put away. I haven’t swept or wiped anything down. And it’s been a couple days since I mopped.”

“Baby, your kitchen is always spotless. Now I’m askin’ you to dry your hands and come talk to me.”

“I’m not sure we have anything to talk about.” You hedge, wishing he’d just leave you be – even as you dutifully move to do as he requests.

“Yeah?” Ari gives you a comforting squeeze, willing you to relax against his bare chest. “Well, you could start by explainin’ just what what the hell happened back in bed.”

“Nothing happened.”

“My entire goddamned point.” Comes his gruff response. “That wasn’t you back there, baby.”

“Not sure I know what you’re talking about.” Squirming out of his embrace, you attempt to put some distance between you and him using your kitchen island as a buffer.

Ari sighs, tipping back his head to briefly stare at the ceiling. His big body remains tense as he struggles to get you to open up and tell him the truth. “Was I too rough with you? Are you…are you sore?”

That familiar pang of guilt returns full-force now, because of course your sweet Beast would be the kind of man to blame himself for the issues you’d experienced in the bedroom. It was just who he was.

“No.” You swiftly respond before wrapping your arms around your middle. “I’m sorry I left so abruptly. I–I was focused on the kitchen. But I swear I’ll make it up to you.” And now you feel even worse for having abandoned him with a hard-on.

“Why are you fuckin’ lying to me?”

“I-I’m not.”

Your teeth begin to worry your bottom lip as you watch his demeanor change. His clouded blue eyes narrow as his nostrils flare, followed by that signature tick in his jaw.

“Tell me you didn’t just fake it with me earlier. Look my in the eyes and fuckin’ tell me you gave something real back in that bed and I’ll leave it alone.”

You immediately avert your gaze. Because you honestly didn’t have it in your heart to keep lying to this man. He deserved better. And frankly, so did you.

“Eyes on me, Bird.” He orders, demanding your full attention. “Open up that pretty mouth and start talkin’.” Sometimes this man had the patience of a saint.

“I’m sorry.” You finally admit, wincing as the words come pouring out. “You weren’t supposed to–” You clamp your mouth shut and force yourself to pivot. “I didn’t think you’d be able to tell.”

Ari is quiet for a moment as confusion and disappointment radiate from his much larger form.

“Why’d you do it?”

“I’m sorry.” Unsure of what to do with all your nervous energy, you remove the tie from your hair to run your fingers through your curls. “I–I’ve never done it before. And I shouldn’t have done it tonight. I…” You glance down at your bare toes, wishing that the ground would simply open up and swallow you whole where you stood.

“Eyes.” Ari demands, making you jump slightly. “Damn it, baby. We’re gonna have a hell of a time making this shit work if you go mute every time there’s an issue.”

“It has nothing to do with you!” You manage to stop yourself just short of screaming. “I already said I was sorry, okay? Like, what more do you want from me?”

“And I want you to tell me when you suddenly decided to fake your pleasure with me!” He snarls, his brawny arms crossing his chest. “You claim you’ve never done it before. So what the hell made tonight so special?”

Yeah, he was fucking pissed. And what’s worse is that he had every reason to be. Because you’d hurt him.

“Unless you’re lying to me. Again.” He continues when you refuse to answer.

“I’m not.” You sniffle, dragging a weary hand across your face. “What you and I have – swear to God, Beast – it’s amazing. Explosive. Sometimes it feels like it’s too much to handle.” When all you receive is a grunt for your trouble, you take that as permission to keep going.

“And tonight was no exception, it’s just…” You pause long enough to steady your breathing. “It felt like my body and my brain were totally disconnected. And no matter how hard I tried to relax and let myself feel good, I just couldn’t.”

Ari continues to stare you down as that tick in his jaw continues to work overtime.

“I’ve faked it before, with the others. Th–they didn’t know.” Neither Mason, nor the only other man you’d ever been with had seemed to notice whenever you’d been less than honest with them in bed.

“So you didn't think that I'd know. Jesus Christ.” He hisses, bracing himself on the edge of the counter. “Well, I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I ain’t them.” He levels you with a hard look. “I know you, know your body. I’ve memorized what you look like when you cum, the little noises you make, the way your gorgeous body bends and your pretty toes curl.”

Your eyes flutter closed as he speaks, which is why you fail to notice when he begins to round the corner – like a predator stalking his prey.

“I know what you taste like on my tongue. Know what it feels like to have that greedy pussy gush around me while your heels dig into my back. Even when you tap out, you best be sure that she always wants more.”

When you open your eyes it’s to see Ari looming over you. But you’re not intimidated, because deep down you know he would never hurt you, even though you’d just hurt him. However, you’re surprised when he reaches up to cup your face with both hands.

“I know these things…” Your bounty hunter rasps, his voice sounding almost hoarse. “Because I know you. I know my woman.” A lone tear falls, slowly gliding its way down your check before Ari dashes it away with his thumb.

“It wasn’t you, Beast.” You rush to reassure him, even as you move to bury your face in the wall of his sculpted chest. “I’ve just been so worried about the store – it’s been a slow month. And I’m still waiting on an order from two months ago. And tonight it was like no matter how much I tried to forget and refocus…I just couldn’t.”

“Hmph.” He grunts, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Why do you think I’m always on your stubborn little ass to talk to me?”

“I know.” Your words come out muffled.

“If you’re not in the mood, or there’s too much going on in the beautiful brain, I want you to fuckin’ talk to me about it.” Without warning, he lifts you with impressive ease to set you on the counter.

“I know.” Another tear escapes, but Ari is quick to wipe it away. “But I don’t want to disappoint you.��

“Disappoint me how?” He scoffs, briefly resting his forehead against your own.

“If you want sex and I don’t or I can’t, then –”

“Then I’ll handle that shit like a man.” Ari swiftly interrupts. “Baby, it’s like you breathe in my general direction and I’m fuckin’ hard. But if the moment’s not working for you, either because you’re tired or you got worries, I want you to fuckin’ talk to me. Don’t fake an orgasm to try and soothe my ego.”

Wordlessly you nod as you go to wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him closer. You feel yourself relax when he pulls you into his warm embrace. It was the first time you’d been able to do so all evening.

“It won’t happen again. Just…please don’t leave tonight.” Your voice sounds so small and fragile it takes you by surprise.

“Aw, I ain’t goin’ anywhere, pretty Bird.” One of his hands begins to rub soothing circles along your lower back. Later, you would learn that that thought had never even crossed his mind. “Consider this water under a fuckin’ bridge.”

You continue holding each other for a while longer, content to bask in the comforting silence. If there was never any doubt as to why you were coming to care so deeply for this man, those thoughts had all been dashed tonight.

In fact, if you weren’t careful, you just might be tempted to fall in love with this man.

“C’mon back upstairs.” Ari murmurs a little while later, but not before capturing your lips with a gentle kiss. “Let’s get you into a shower, I’ll even help you wash your hair.”

At his urging, you'd shown him how to do a quick co-wash a couple weeks ago, and now he was hooked. Not that you were complaining.

“Okay.” You nod, unable to stop yourself from melting.

“Tomorrow, we’ll talk about the shop. Maybe brainstorm some ideas about how to fix things, or at least cushion the blow.” Again you nod, feeling more at peace with the world than you had the last several days.

Reaching for your hand, you lace your fingers through his and allow yourself to be led back up the stairs, leaving the dishes and the rest of your chores undone. You had more important things to see to, right now.

And, perhaps, a little more apologizing to do.

END

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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 year ago

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The Black Kaiser's Nightmare

Duncan Vizla x Assassin!FemReader

A/N: Shout out to beelmons and G for their endless support and help with my fics <3 :') where would I be without y'all?

Summary: You run into your long-time nemesis in the last place you ever expected, but things take a turn for the worst when you find yourself stuck with him during a snowstorm.

WC: 7.2k words

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), enemies to lovers speedrun into the bed, mentions and depictions of violence, fighting, accidental assassination of a third party, some serious bickering, abundant cursing, rough sex (unprotected, don't do it at home!), choking, very light knifeplay, dirty talk, slight degradation mixed with some praise, rampant sexual tension, ooey gooey lovesick fools who are just SO SO STUBBORN, I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything!

You are responsible for your own media consumption!

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Triple Oak, Montana.

It’d been a while since you’d last found yourself in such a quaint little town, especially in the middle of winter, but you supposed you’d been in way worse places. It was barely even on the map, which made it a convenient place to lay low.

You didn’t have to worry about interacting with many people, and you sure as hell didn’t think you’d encounter anyone you knew. At least for the time being, you felt like you could relax just a little bit while you made plans.

In a few more days, you’d continue driving north and cross the Canadian border into Saskatchewan, where you were meant to carry out your next assignment. Your target was a skeevy arms dealer that had to move his whole operation out of Serbia and was now shacked up somewhere in the vast prairies.

You’d been tracking his activity for some time, slowly narrowing down the list of possible locations. You’d also scored some insider information about a big upcoming transaction with a terrorist cell, and your goal was to get to him before the sale was finalized.

Successfully eliminating him would pay handsomely, and you were already planning on a months-long vacation in which you’d go fully off the radar. Preferably somewhere by the beach, where you didn’t feel the constant threat of frostbite.

You pulled into a small gas station — the only one to be found in a long stretch of the highway between the town and more secluded cabins — and occupied one of the three measly pumps. There was only one other old pickup truck next to you, but the owner was nowhere to be seen.

You blew hot air into your hands as you walked into the convenience store, eager for some coffee despite how shitty it was.

“Hey Lou,” you said to the now familiar attendant, the little bell above the door ringing as you pushed in. “How’s it goin’?”

“Eh, slow, the usual,” he shrugged. “At least it’s decently warm in ‘ere. They say there’s gonna be a snowstorm over the weekend, starting tonight.”

“Shit, really?” You groaned, not only because you loathed the freezing temperatures, but because it would set you back by a few more days.

“Yup, perfect time to cozy up with the missus back at home.”

You poured yourself a large cup of black coffee and snapped the lid on top. On the way back to the register, you grabbed a couple of magazines and a pack of Ding-Dongs to eat on the road.

“Well, lucky you,” you said, putting everything on the counter. “I gotta find ways to keep myself busy and warm in case I lose power.”

As you spoke, the door to the restroom opened behind you and a tall, rugged-looking man stepped out. His eyes instinctively flickered between the two of you, even if he couldn’t see your face. He lingered close to the back, trying not to bring attention to himself.

“You sure you’ll be good all by yourself out there?” Lou asked. “Enough supplies and all?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself,” you said, fishing cash out of your wallet. “Give me thirty on number two, also.”

“You got it, tough gal.”

You chuckled as he rang you up, glancing outside. The man behind you tensed, gripped with the dread that came with sudden recognition. Your voice was one he knew well, the very same one he’d heard all seventeen times he’d almost died. Well, eighteen if he counted that one brief altercation in Belfast.

And that laugh… How many times had it been directed at him? Taunting him, teasing him, driving him utterly mad.

It was perhaps the only thing that stopped him from actually getting rid of you that one night you slept so soundly at some shoddy little hotel in Madrid. He’d watched your chest's steady rise and fall from his spot in the darkness, and he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

And now he’d most likely have to pay for the consequences of his mercy.

Lou looked over your shoulder at him, but you didn’t immediately notice since you were absently flipping through one of the magazines.

“Need anything else, Duncan?” He offered. “Pack of Winstons?”

Your skin prickled at these two very familiar details, but you didn’t move, still staring down at the magazine without actually reading. It was probably a mere coincidence. Really, there had to be dozens of Duncans in the world that just so happened to smoke Winstons.

But then, a very particular smell reached your nose — cheap cologne you didn’t know the name of, with strikingly bitter notes that had flooded your nostrils when his hands were tightly wrapped around your neck.

You glanced up at the fisheye mirror above the register… and there he fucking was, in all his deadly glory. The Black Kaiser himself.

You couldn’t help an amused huff, especially after hearing the faintest rustle of a knife being unsheathed under his coat.

“Are you sure you want to stab me with that, old man?” You said slowly over your shoulder.

“Less impersonal than a gun. I owe you that much, don’t I?” he said with that deep, gravelly voice of his that always made a stubborn tingle form at the base of your spine.

Your hand just barely inched towards the hidden holster of your gun. “Oh, but you know I get a little crazy when the knives come out.”

Lou looked between the two of you, confusion and a tinge of fear in his eyes.

“Uh, you two know each oth—”

Before he could finish his sentence, you whirled around and shot Duncan’s head. He ducked, but not before hurling a large knife at you in return. You dove out of the way, hearing it whizz right past your ear, and it sank into Lou’s forehead with a wet thud. His body slumped behind the counter, blood spraying over the stuff you’d intended to buy.

“Hey!” You yelled from your hiding spot. “I didn’t even get my change back!”

“You’re not gonna need it anymore,” he said gruffly, his voice not too far from you. “But before that… want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” you said, glancing up at the fisheye mirror once more.

Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t get a very good look at where he was, but you couldn’t stay put. You slowly began to inch to the end of the aisle, staying low. “Let me guess, you missed me so much these last three years that you decided to hunt me down.”

He scoffed. “Three years was not nearly long enough time away from you.”

You dove around the corner to the next aisle, but he wasn’t there. You started pulling yourself forward, but suddenly you were flipped onto your back. You were about to whip your gun around, but it was harshly knocked out of your grasp, sliding against the linoleum. You thrashed against the weight that pressed down on you, but he pinned your hands down beside your head.

“Who sent you?” He asked.

“No one sent me, you paranoid geezer!” You sneered, driving your knee up full force right into his crotch. “Not everything’s about you.”

He growled at the pain, swaying to the side, his grip on your hands relaxing. You pushed him off of you, scrambling to get to your gun. Right as you managed to get a hold of it, he was on you again, pulling you back by the legs. You tried twisting around all the way, firing another shot semi-blindly. It narrowly missed his shoulder, shattering one of the windows.

“Can’t kill me without paralyzing me, eh, little Nightmare?” He taunted.

“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You swallowed a scream as he stepped on the hand you held your weapon with, his heavy boot cracking your wrist. Your fingers splayed involuntarily due to the pain, and he bent down to take the gun. He kept it pointed at you as he removed his boot from your wrist and grabbed your arm.

“You’re coming with me,” he stated, starting to pull you up.

“Like hell I am!” You spat, but you froze as you felt the barrel pressed against the back of your head.

“You were saying?”

He dragged you to your feet, leading you through the broken window, glass crunching under your boots. The wind seemed icier than it had been when you first arrived, which made you remember Lou’s warning about a snowstorm.

There was no way in hell you’d be stuck with him during it, so you’d have to find a way to weasel out of his grasp… and kill him in the process.

He led you towards his truck, but you pretended to trip at the last second, bending down and retrieving a knife you had hidden in your boot. You stabbed backward, aiming for his femoral artery, but he moved and the knife stabbed into his thigh muscle instead.

“Motherfucker,” he hissed through clenched teeth, but he didn’t let go of you, tightening his grip on your arm. He fired off a warning shot into the air, which made you flinch a little. “Try me again and I won’t hesitate to put the next bullet through your thick fucking skull. I only have so much patience.”

He shoved you into the passenger seat of the truck, managing to tie you up with the seatbelt. Your bound hands were still slick with his blood, and you smiled triumphantly at him as he slid into the driver’s seat, immediately peeling out of the gas station.

“This is what gets you hard, isn’t it?” you said, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re kind of a sick fuck, old man… but I didn’t expect any better from you.”

He said nothing, instead momentarily glaring at you. He grunted as he pulled the knife out of his leg, tossing it out of the window. You grumbled about him owing you a knife, but he continued to ignore you. He drove mostly in silence, winding through the icy roads as he gripped his wounded leg with one hand.

So far, it had been one of your tamest encounters. Really, it had all sort of felt like a game, but neither of you had won quite yet. After all, a game such as this could not be left unfinished.

Usually, the circumstances were vastly different. Your respective agencies had assigned you the same target a couple of times, and it always turned into a competition on who would finish the job first. As it turned out, the two of you were very competitive.

You’d left plenty of souvenirs on each other every single time you crossed paths – broken bones, an assortment of scars, and bruises as dark as the midnight sky. You wondered vaguely how much more damage you might make by the end of the day.

Why neither of you had succeeded in killing each other was… a bit of a mystery. Maybe he saw something in you that reminded him of himself, or perhaps he was growing soft with age. He would never admit it, but he’d had plenty of fun in this deadly dance with you so far, and it seemed a shame to let it come to its conclusion so soon.

He’d have to do it though, after some thorough interrogation.

Soon enough, he pulled up a long gravel road hidden among the tall pine trees. In the clearing ahead, you saw what you supposed was his cabin. It was modestly sized and a little dilapidated, but at least it seemed to be sturdy enough to withstand harsh conditions.

“Nice place,” you said sarcastically. “I don’t suppose you have many visitors?”

“Rarely,” he said without looking at you. “I like the quiet. No one’s going to bother us here.”

“You mean no one’s gonna come running when you scream?”

He grunted, readjusting his position in his seat. You were mostly tied up at the arms so your legs had some room to move. Rookie mistake on his part, which you would definitely take advantage of.

Before he could pull up in front of the actual cabin, you leaned back and kicked at the steering wheel. The truck swerved to the right, throwing you against the window. He tried to correct it on time, slamming on the brakes, but the snow made it careen right into a tree.

It wasn’t a tremendous crash, but the windshield still broke, glass raining down on both of you. You were both disoriented for a moment from the whiplash, but then you began to untangle yourself from the seatbelt. You kicked at him when he tried to reach for you, but he managed to pin your legs down.

“Can’t you stay put for one fucking second!?” He growled, fully bracketing you between his sturdy legs as he freed you from the seatbelt.

You panted heavily, trying to thrash beneath him, but he only pressed his legs tighter against your sides. A small, high-pitched whine escaped your lips as you felt the air being squeezed out of you, and you stopped moving.

“Satis…fied?” You managed between gasps.

“Not nearly,” he said, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he pulled back. “Come here.”

He kept a firm grip on it as he dragged you out of the truck and towards the cabin. He wobbled a little with each step, his leg still bleeding some.

“I warned you about the knives,” you said. “Even if you didn’t let me finish having fun.”

He chuckled sardonically. “No, you’re mistaken. The fun is only just beginning.”

He led you inside and locked the door behind him, making you sit down on a rickety chair. He bound your hands and feet with duct tape, wrapping some of it around your torso and the back of the chair for good measure. You decided not to struggle for the time being and instead ponder on your next move, covertly glancing at your surroundings for anything useful.

When Duncan was sure you wouldn’t be able to bolt, he went to grab something from an adjacent room, returning with his version of a first aid kit and a bottle of vodka. He looked at you from the corner of his eye as he undid his pants and lowered them to his knees.

“I didn’t realize it was that kind of fun,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Still, your gaze was drawn to his crotch first before trailing further down to the injury you’d caused. Rolling his eyes, he plopped down on the bed, which creaked a little under his weight.

He took a long swig of vodka and then poured some on the bleeding gash, hissing through his teeth. Your expression of slight amusement didn’t change as he glanced at you once more, taking out a needle and thread.

“I have to be careful about infections, who knows where that knife of yours has been?” he said.

You merely watched as he began stitching himself up without so much as a grimace. His breathing was slow and steady as he concentrated, and you found yourself entranced by the precise movements of his hands.

An obscene thought about those hands wriggled into your mind, but you immediately pushed it away. It was all the more reason for you to get the hell out of there, especially now that his pants were down.

As he was finishing his stitches, you leaned forward onto your tiptoes and then threw yourself back as hard as you could. The chair broke apart under you, the force of the blow and the angle in which you fell spraining one of your wrists. The adrenaline made you barely register the pain, and you quickly wriggled out of the tape wrapped around you.

You pulled a Swiss army knife out of your boot and hastily sawed off the tape binding your ankles. He swore as you stood, lifting your arms and slamming them down to free your hands. You stumbled towards the front door and yanked it open.

Outside, the wind howled ferociously and a thick flurry of snow limited your vision of your surroundings. You felt the unforgiving cold slicing through you as you hesitated, knowing deep down that your chances of survival were very slim.

Still, you were reckless enough to try and brave it. You started towards the steps when you were yanked back once more, your back pinned against the wall and Duncan’s hand around your throat.

“You just don’t fucking learn, do you?” He growled.

“You only caught me because I hesitated, old man.”

His grip tightened a little in warning. “Didn’t anybody teach you never to hesitate?”

“There is a very fine line between foolishness and courage, you know…” The corners of your mouth twitched, an amused gleam in your eye. “I wonder how often you cross from one side to the other.”

He clenched his teeth and an absolutely devious, cheshire cat grin spread across your face. The mere sight of it made his blood boil with both rage and arousal, and he felt it flowing southward. Your back instinctually arched towards him, as if you could somehow sense the sudden influx of violent desire, and became infected by it.

You stared at each other for a charged moment before he suddenly fell upon you, intent on devouring you. His lips clashed with yours in a fierce kiss and you buried your fingers in his hair, tugging at it as you retaliated.

You bit his lower lip hard, making him groan into your mouth. You used this opportunity to slide your tongue against his, and he moved the hand that had been around your neck toward your jaw. Without thinking, you pressed harder against him, your fingers about to slide under the hem of his sweater.

He clasped your wrist to stop you, assuming you were reaching for some hidden weapon. You whimpered slightly, painfully reminded that it was in fact sprained. He pulled back to look at you, both of you panting heavily and still clutching each other tightly.

“I fear that line was blurred a long time ago, and I suspect it’s the same case with you,” He murmured.

His words broke through your daze and you immediately pushed him away from you, cradling your injured hand against your chest. A maelstrom of emotions roiled inside of you, predominantly confusion and a worrisome throb between your legs.

“And what now?” You asked, glancing out of the window. “It’s clear neither of us are going anywhere any time soon.”

“Now we weather the storm,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“No, seriously.”

“I am being serious.”

You huffed in annoyance, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I… can’t believe I’m asking this right now but, maybe we can… put the killing each other thing on hold for a few days?”

“So you were coming for me.”

“No! I wasn’t!” You threw your hands up exasperatedly. “Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I have work further up north. This was just a pit stop.”

He assessed you for a moment, trying to find any clues that you were lying. You stood your ground, keeping your eyes on his face. He sniffed, leaning against the wall to get his weight off his injured leg.

“I’m fine with a temporary truce, but only if we both keep our weapons in plain sight at all times.”

“I am a weapon myself, big boy.”

“So am I. I suppose we’ll have to keep an eye on each other as well, then.”

“Fine,” you huffed, stomping to the couch and pulling it over to the kitchen. “I’ll stay on this side of the cabin, you can stay on the other side.”

“What!? This is my house!” He scoffed.

“Yeah, well, I’m being generous by letting you keep your bed. Not to mention, your life.”

He rolled his eyes, limping back over to his bed. “Whatever you say. Now, can I please fix my stitches in peace for one fucking second?”

———————

There was no sleep for the entirety of the first night.

The cabin creaked and groaned, straining against the disastrously strong wind. Your breaths fogged up in the air as you shivered under the thin blanket Duncan had given you. The cold seemed to seep into your very bones as if punishing you for your decisions. To distract yourself from the chill, you kept an eye on his prone form across the room, knowing well he wasn’t sleeping either.

When dawn broke, a thin grayish light filtered into the room. The storm raged on and all you wanted to do was doze off, but you were still on edge. You clenched your jaw to keep your teeth from chattering, irritated by a headache. Your mood didn’t get any better when Duncan rose from his bed, crossing towards the kitchen.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You inquired, not moving an inch.

He stopped in his tracks. “I’m hungry. Don’t you want to eat?”

Your stomach growled in answer and he lifted an eyebrow in slight amusement. You unwillingly threw the blanket off of you, getting up with an annoyed grunt.

“I’ll give you the food. Let’s see what you’ve got,” you said, rummaging through the cabinets.

“I could just show you…”

“No, stay on your side. Even better, why don’t you go sit back down on your bed?”

He followed orders, not really wanting to start quarreling with you so early in the morning. You finally found some oatmeal packets in one of the cupboards, and you took out a few and poured them into a pot along with some water. You left it to boil over the stove top, crossing your arms over your chest and turning to face him.

“How’s your leg doing, anyway?” You asked.

“Fine. Why do you care?”

“I really don’t.”

He chuckled. “Good thing you’re a better assassin than you are a liar.”

You sighed deeply. “Well, it is your house, I should at least have some manners.”

He scoffed, still amused. “We are way past manners. Our only courtesy to each other would be a painless death.”

“Oh, really? Painless?” You arched an eyebrow. “Did you forget Lisbon? And that grenade launcher you stole?”

“Okay, well, I wasn’t technically aiming at you. You just happened to be in the way,” He argued. “And it’s not like you haven’t given me the same sort of treatment…”

You shrugged one shoulder. “It’s only fair.”

The two of you lapsed into silence as you turned your attention back to the pot. Once the oatmeal was ready, you spooned it into two bowls and walked to the invisible line that divided the cabin in two.

He got up and met you there, reaching slowly for his bowl so as not to seem threatening. Not that you were viewing him that way, anyway. At least not in the clearly exhausted state he was in.

“Careful, it’s hot,” you said. “Need me to blow on it first?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, resisting the lure of your impish grin. He figured it was perhaps the more masochistic part of him that made him so drawn to you. Always pushing him, testing him, keeping him on the edge. He would never admit it to himself — much less to you — but it made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t for a really long time.

He muttered a quick thank you before heading back to his side of the room, plopping down on the bed and immediately digging in. If he burned his mouth, he showed no indication of it, but you still huffed in amusement.

When he was done, he said nothing as he lied down, his back to you once again. A little confused and wary, you watched him as you slowly ate. Soon enough, his breath evened out into a steady rhythm, and you assumed he’d fallen asleep.

You glanced over at the dining table, where the two of you had laid out all your weapons, and considered them for a long moment.

It seemed too easy to have such a window of opportunity. Normally, you’d have jumped at any such chance, but once more, you hesitated. Not out of any sort of newfound benevolence, but something deeper than that. Something that had been gnawing at you since the previous night.

In the end, you opted not to do anything. Surely, it was bound to be a mistake to not have killed him at that moment. But that would be a problem for another day, perhaps when the storm was over.

You sat down on the floor by the foot of the couch, back resting against the frame. Sleep deprivation was starting to hit you as well, and you knew that if you were to lay down you would certainly fall asleep. Instead, your eyes focused on the suspiciously peaceful sight of Duncan sleeping.

The longer you stared, the blurrier the lines seemed to get. Literally. His broad form was smudged into a single sphere, and without much thought about it, everything suddenly went black.

Until… Shit.

How long were you asleep?

It had been long since you’d last awakened to a man in front of you, let alone holding a knife to your face. The blade shone in your half-open eyes, reflecting the setting sun outside the window. You must have been unconscious for over two hours. Stupid, so very stupid.

You blinked the haze of sleep out of your eyes and followed the glint to his fingers, his forearm, up his broad chest and shoulders, until it finally landed on his face.

“So, the game ends at last, huh?” you muttered, your gaze not wavering from his.

“Could’ve ended long ago, but it didn’t,” he said, once again looking every bit the coldhearted killer he was. You could still see, however, the presence of doubt in his dark eyes. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

“I knew you weren’t actually sleeping…”

“Even so,” he pressed, straightening to his full, imposing height. “You didn’t even try. Why?”

You blinked, not really having an answer, not one that would satisfy him at least. What's more, you had a set of questions of your own, ones that would likely also have no answer.

The words slipped before you could even think about them. “Why did you kiss me?”

Silence hung between you like a heavy drape. You were cornered in more than one sense. Windows for precaution and escape had long since closed, maybe even since the moment you ran into him in that little gas station. And through hardships, you learned that if there’s no way back, the only way is forward.

The wound in his thigh didn’t seem to bother him as much anymore, so there was no way you could outrun him. You looked down to avoid his scrutiny and he used the back of his knife to force your chin back up.

He didn’t speak, but his eyes bore into yours, almost as if seeing through them into parts of you that were foreign even to yourself. The flat part of the blade trailed up to your cheek in what could be interpreted as a caress.

Your hand unconsciously intended to return the favor, running up his knee to his thigh, extra cautious around his wound. You noticed a change of pattern in his breathing, and so you looked down only to find one of the answers you sought — the print of his hardened cock cruelly imprisoned within his pants.

“Oh,” you breathed, surprised. Then again, when the reality of what you were looking at fully sank in. “Oh.”

Your hand moved on its own accord again, slowly slipping further up his thigh. Again, he tightly grabbed your wrist before your fingers reached their target, and you hissed in pain. He immediately let go, withdrawing the knife as well.

“Are you hurt?” He asked.

“A sprained wrist isn’t gonna kill me,” you said, keeping your hand on his leg to drive your point across. “Now that, on the other hand, has to be taken care of.”

“Taken care of, huh?” He rasped, his voice hoarse with want and self-directed anger because of it.

He raked a hand through your hair, gathering it in his first and pulling your head towards his crotch. He pressed your cheek against his bulge, his hips bucking ever so slightly.

“And how do you suppose that’s gonna happen?” He added.

“I have a few ideas if you’re open to them,” you panted, ignited in a way that almost fully consumed you.

His eyes searched your face for a moment, drinking you in as he searched for any indications of doubt, and then he whispered, “Are you sure?”

This time you didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

He saw the feverish gleam of hunger in your eyes as he pulled away and unbuckled his belt, pushing down his pants. The outline of his cock was even more prominent through his briefs and you couldn’t help a sharp intake of breath at the sheer size of him. He was still holding onto your hair, stepping closer and effectively cornering you against the couch.

You boldly started to reach for the hem of his briefs, but he said, “No. I want you to use your teeth.”

“Getting a little bold there, old man,” you said with a smirk, keeping your eyes on him as you dipped your head to plant a soft kiss on his thigh, right by his stitches.

He winced slightly at the contact, but you could see his cock throb against the fabric covering it. Your smirk only widened, “But I gotta admit I’m pretty impressed so far. Didn’t even have to slip a blue pill in your oatmeal.”

He gripped your jaw, clicking his tongue in disappointment. “I think you need more proof, actually. Allow me.”

With his free hand, he roughly tugged down his briefs and his cock finally sprang free — so thick and long and just fucking perfect — hitting his lower abdomen. The head of it glistened with precum, which he spread with his thumb. You shifted in your seat, biting your lip as saliva flooded your mouth.

“Open,” he ordered.

You immediately complied, wondering when the fuck you’d gotten so obedient. He gripped the base of it and fed it into your mouth slowly. You wrapped your lips around it, feeling it slide smoothly against your tongue.

A small groan escaped him, his head tipped back at the first rush of pleasure. You hummed a little in response and he felt the vibration of the sound against his shaft. His hips began to move again, shuttling his length deeper into your mouth, until you could feel the head of it reach your throat.

He let you steady yourself by placing your hands on his legs, his hand returning to the back of your head as it bobbed up and down. Then suddenly, when you’d reached the very base, he kept your head down. Your nose was against his pelvis, your deep, even breaths fanning against the fine hair that curled there.

Your nails dug into the flesh of his legs as you staved off your gag reflex as best as you could. Still, you couldn’t help but squirm a little, already pretty slick between your thighs.

He cursed under his breath as he let you come up for air, an obscene string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock.

"If I knew you were such a cock drunk slut, I would have dropped my pants much earlier just to shut you up,” he said with a smug grin, looking down at you.

“More bold words from someone who’s only gonna last this round. I’m gonna have to take care of myself after you’re done,” you taunted lightly, making him pull at your hair.

You kept eye contact with him as you stuck your tongue out and traced it over a large vein on the underside of his shaft. You left a trail of wet, sloppy kisses as you made your way back to the tip, and he lightly slapped it against your tongue a couple of times before pushing your head back down on it. His balls tightened momentarily as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, and you knew he was enjoying himself much more than he let on.

"Well, if it's gonna be only one, might as well make good use of it, don't you think?" He said, pulling you off of him and making you stand up.

His lips were on yours in the next moment, just as desperate and hungry as the first kiss. He kicked his pants off the rest of the way and yanked your sweater off along with your thermal undershirt. He reached for your pants, but you slapped his hand away, extricating yourself from his lips to undo them yourself.

As soon as they were off, he turned you around and bent you over the back of the couch. There was a wet spot in your underwear that made him smirk, but he also couldn’t deny the way his cock throbbed at the sight.

“This is in the way…” he grunted, tugging at your bra strap.

Before you even registered what was happening, he brought the knife back out and sawed the bra off of you. You let out a gasp that was both surprised and indignant as he proceeded to rip your panties off with his bare hands, tossing the scraps of fabric aside.

“Hey! Those are the only ones I have here!” You huffed, glaring at him over your shoulder. “Unless you have a secret stash of women’s underwear, you seriously owe me.”

He nudged your knees apart with his leg. “I don’t think you’re going to need them while you’re here. You were already ruining them yourself, anyway.”

Before you could retort, you felt him push inside of you slowly, grabbing your hips as he let out a low moan.

“Fuck…” you sighed without thinking, leaning your elbows against the back of the couch.

“Yeah? Does that feel good?” He cooed condescendingly.

“In your drea–”

His hips snapped into yours harshly, interrupting you. You felt the heat of him against your back as he leaned over you, his breath fanning across the side of your face.

“If I were you, I’d be careful about lying again. I might just stop and leave you all drenched like this, with your hands tied behind your back so you couldn’t touch yourself.”

He felt you clench around him at that and his smirk turned victorious. He kissed and sucked at your shoulder and neck, making sure to leave plenty of marks. His thrusts were hard and deep at first, hips barely pulling back as his weight pinned you down.

You let out a sound that was a strange mix between a whimper and a gasp as he bit into the tender flesh of your shoulder, hard enough to leave teeth marks behind. The jolt of pain mixed with pleasure – not to mention the slight shame that came with the feeling of your arousal dripping down your inner thighs – only fueled the fire that was steadily growing within you.

Then, a little mindlessly, you pleaded, “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

He straightened immediately, readjusting himself to start pounding into you at a nearly punishing pace. You bit your bottom lip to try and keep quiet, but wanton sounds of pleasure escaped your throat despite your efforts. He was hitting a spot that made your head spin, tugging you backward onto his cock to meet his thrusts.

The lewd sound of flesh slapping together, along with your collective pants and groans, filled the room. He reached forward to grab your throat again, keeping you semi-upright as he continued to take you. In truth, he was focusing hard to stave off his release. He had plenty of stamina for his age, but the way your cunt took him so perfectly, as if molded just for him, was enough to have his balls tightening again.

But he would never hear the end of it.

Your legs began to shake a little as the coil in your belly tightened, threatening to snap. “I-I think I’m gonna cum, fuck…”

“Not yet,” he said firmly, immediately stopping his motions.

You cursed him under your breath, beyond frustrated. You pushed your hips back, intent on fucking yourself on him, but his firm grip stopped you. He landed a firm smack on your ass, making you involuntarily clench around him. He hissed, feeling the strong urge to give in and continue fucking you until you came all over his cock, but he kept his composure. He wanted to keep indulging you for as long as he could, still not fully believing he wasn’t just having a dirty dream.

“Do that again and I’ll rip your fucking head off,” you snarled as he pulled out, grabbing your arm and leading you toward the bed.

“I told you I was going to make it count.”

He tossed you onto your back on the bed, crawling on top of you and pushing your knees up to your shoulders. He positioned himself between your thighs and sank back into your cunt with no further preambles, his strong body covering yours once more.

His hands cradled your head as he began to move again, reaching impossibly deeper than before. You clawed at his biceps as he ground his pelvis against you, making your brain practically short-circuit.

“There we go… See? I knew you could take more,” he said, kissing the corner of your lips. “Are you scared I'll pull out again? You keep sucking me back in.”

Too dazed to form words, your lips chased his so he would kiss you properly. Your tongue trailed over his upper lip enticingly, and he opened his mouth so his tongue could meet yours. This kiss was deeper, less frantic, finally giving yourselves a chance to taste each other properly.

Soon you were clenching around him again, too distracted by your mounting pleasure to continue kissing him properly.

“Fuck, don’t stop, Duncan. Please, please, please, just like that,” you begged desperately, moaning as he moved to kiss your jaw.

“Yeah? You want me to fill you up, too?” He rasped against your skin. “Claim this needy cunt all for myself?”

You nodded eagerly, face contorting with ecstasy as you held onto him for dear life. Your muscles seized up as your climax washed over you, overpowering your senses. His hips stuttered as you cried out, your hot flesh molding into his like the deepest embrace.

He kissed you again as he felt his own release rippling over him, groaning into your mouth as he shuddered, unable to hold himself back any longer. He thrusted hard a few more times before remaining fully inside of you, and you felt heat flooding your cunt.

A whimper of slight overstimulation escaped you, but he soothed you with a whispered praise in your ear. You couldn’t help but smile beatifically, almost purring in content as he kept his cum inside of you.

As you both rode out your highs, your kisses turned lazy, almost tender, and even the way he held you felt different. Somehow, in some deep recess of your mind, it seemed right… and that scared you a little.

Still, you tried not to let it get to you then. Not as he leaned his sweaty forehead against yours, still panting, and said, “I think I tore my stitches.”

You chuckled. “You should probably take care of that, then.”

“In a minute…”

He disentangled himself from you, pulling out and sliding his body down between your legs. You tried to draw your thighs together, but he stopped you, planting a kiss on your mound.

He spread your lips with two fingers so he could see his cum trickling out of you, but then he pushed it back in with those same fingers, making your hips jerk slightly.

“T-this was a one time thing, you know,” you breathed, trying to sound firm.

He barely glanced up at you, seemingly unbothered. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

But only an hour or so later, you found yourself riding him on the couch. Then, he took you against the wall, over the kitchen counter, off the edge of the bed, and subsequently on the floor. He seemed intent on making sure you never questioned his endurance ever again.

Even throughout the night, you slept sporadically, pawing at each other whenever you stirred. Not many words were exchanged during this time, but that didn’t mean your mouths weren’t put to good use. As usual, you both wound up with bruises, bite marks, and scratches all over each other, but the intention behind them couldn’t be any more different.

The storm died sometime during the night, but instead of fleeing right away, you let him hold you until dawn broke. There were too many new questions floating about in your head, but you weren’t really sure you wanted the answer to any of them for the time being. Perhaps it was simply best to let what happened remain in the past and simply move on.

As quietly as you could, you got up from the bed, cleaned yourself up, and dressed. You sheathed your weapons, avoiding looking at him as you prepared to leave. When your hand was on the doorknob, his voice stopped you.

“You didn’t kill me again,” he said. “Should I take that as an indication that you like me?”

You looked over at him, frowning. “Absolutely not. I’m serious, this was the last time it’ll ever happen.”

“I’m not sure I can trust your word.”

You huffed, irritated. “Well, you’ll have to. I intend to keep it.”

You yanked the door open, about to stomp outside, but you heard the creak of the bed as he sat up.

“You know, I’m going to be in Portofino in a few months. I heard it’s beautiful there in the summer, and I figured I could use a vacation.”

“Are you trying to make yourself an easy target?”

“...Maybe.”

“And if I decide not to hunt you down?”

He raised an eyebrow. “If?”

You grimaced. “All I’m saying is don’t get your hopes up. I’m a very busy gal, I don’t have time to play cat and mouse with you.”

“And who’s who in that analogy, hm?”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “Goodbye, Duncan. Truce is over, do you hear me?”

“I’ll see you in Portofino. Make sure you bring sunscreen.”

The door slammed shut behind you.

---——-

Part 2 out now!

#duncan vizla fanfiction #duncan vizla x fem!reader #duncan vizla x reader #the black kaiser x reader #the black kaiser fanfiction #polar fanfiction #duncan vizla smut #the black kaiser smut

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maturemenoftvandfilms · 6 months ago

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The Senator from Montana

CHAPTER FIFTHTEEN: On the Campaign Trail

Featuring Sen. Jon Tester

When the big old man got out of the big black Chevy Suburban with a small group of who I thought were sales people, the old man got my full attention. I even moved closer to my big front picture window in order to get a better view of him. The old man could have stepped straight out of one of my wet dreams! And as he walked toward the adjacent house, I started drooling as he had a sexually hungry aura about him.

He was burly and lumbered up the drive way as the other three followed closely behind. As he came in full view of my front window, he looked directly at me. Caught gawking at him, I blushed. His handsome face broke into a smile as they walked to the house next door. I thought I recognized him but couldn't place the face. I was so excited that I set down in my favorite overstuffed chair which just happened to face the house’s big picture window, then as I recalled how handsome man was, what he might be into sexually, I jacked off into my hand. And as I filled my hand with cum, I couldn’t help but wish that it was the old man’s cum being pumped into my palm.

I guess I would have just ignored the knocking but it didn't stop. Finally, I answered the door, buck-naked. I was surprised to see it was our US senator, Jon Tester, knocking on doors and talking with voters in every corner of Montana. Opening the door just wide enough to peek out, not wanting him to see that I was naked and with a roaring hard on. I've seen him on television before and thought he was a big guy in his late sixties, but he looked bigger standing in front of me. And drop dead gorgeous in person too.

“Hello. I'm your senator, Jon Tester.” The senator said as he reached over and greeted me with a firm handshake with his meaty paw.

“Hello. Sam ‘s my name, sir.” I responded not knowing what else to say.

“There’s so much at stake for Montanans this election, and I'm counting on folks to step up to help me win in 2024.” As he spoke, he looked me directly in the eyes. I found myself admiring his blue eyes as I opened the door wider.

He glanced down at my hard cock and smiled, “Looks like you were doing something besides changing clothes.” and gave me a wink.

He caught me off guard and it embarrassed me greatly. Was he interested in some man-2-man fun? Or was I miss-reading the situation. I certainly would be interested. I had even jerked off a few times thinking about him, but this was the first time I had any indication that he might be into guys. My face must have turned red because he added.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I jack off too. Heck, what else is there to do out here in the middle of big sky country?” He said, his eyes staring at my massive pecker.

I suddenly found myself enjoying the senator staring at my cock. I knew that I should rush into the bedroom and get my clothes but I didn’t. I just stood there in front of Sen. Tester, naked. Then he did the damnest thing. Sen. Tester went back and told his staff to going on to the houses and he'll catch up.

“Sorry, sir… I didn't mean any disrespect.” I told him, as I stepped back hoping he'd follow me in to the house.

Without answering, the senator did a quick check up and down the road before stepping in he closed and locked the door in a single motion. We fell into an embrace, sharing a long passionate kiss while I'm frantically pulling off his clothes. I didn't know if he had time to "fraternize with the constituents" before continuing on with his campaign, but I wasn't waiting to find out. The 67-year-old lawmaker was smooth with a rock-hard chubby belly, arms bigger than a tree trunk and rugged daddy hands. His dick was thick and cut.

"I don't have much time to get off." Sen. Tester said as I fondled his thick cut dick. With that being said, I kneeled down in front of him and closed my lips around his pale cut dick.

"Fuck! That feels wonderful. Yea!" He exclaimed as I felt his big hand grab my head and press it down.

I looked up, my mouth full of juicy cock, Jon was looking down at me and smiling. He had each of his nipples between his fingers, twisting and rubbing them while I began bobbing my head up and down his shaft. His head was tilted back and his eyes were closed as he hunched toward me. His belly bounced invitingly against my forehead. He was biting at his bottom lip. His belly jiggled as he hunched my face. He grabbed my head and shoved his cock in my mouth. I gaged on it. I could not take it. It was just to fucking big. He backed off when he saw I couldn't take it all.

I pulled away from his cock and put a hand on his thigh, rubbing him while I jerked my cock, he let go of my head and wrapped his hand around his wet cock, stroking generously.

Suddenly I stood up and my long fat dick sprung up and stood straight out from my body. It was so hard it was throbbing. The senator's eyes got big as he looked at my thick dick. And as if the powerful senator could read my mind. The big guy spit on his huge hand, reached out and wrapped his meaty fingers around my dick. My head was swimming from the rush of sexual excitement pulsing through my body.

Then he pressing my throbbing cock against his own, his giant fist wrapped around them both with ease. I gasped as I felt my cock press against his wet prick. I felt his hand grip tighter around our kissing cocks. I liked the feel of his rough workman hand on my dick. Just seeing his hair arm moving back and forth as he jacked me turned me on.

"Turn around. And bend over and grab the chair. I wanna fuck you." He said.

I wanted the senator to fuck me. I wanted to feel his pussy-poking dick inside of me. Then I leaned over and grabbed the chair in front of me, jetting my butt in his direction.

"Nice ass." He said as I heard him spit.

A moment later I felt his slippery dick head pressing against my asshole. Then the big man almost angrily rammed his dick into me. I stiffened up from the searing pain of his brutal entry as the big head of his cock pry open my hole. He then pulled his dick half way out of me and slammed it back inside my asshole. I called out and tightened my grip on the recliner as the big man started fucking me as hard and fast as I could ever remember being fucked.

"Fucking good." Sen. Tester hissed as he leaned over me, his hand reaching around to grab my erection in his fist, and as he did, I looked down to see that his hand completely hid my dick in what felt like a vice.

The touch of Sen. Tester’s rough hand on my cock thrilled me from head to toe as he humped me like a machine. I just endured it as he continued to jack my dick painfully hard, his belly rubbing into my back as our sweat began to fly. The image of us two flashed through my mind. And damn if it didn’t excite me ever more. I don’t know how long he fucked me. Time lost all meaning. I was in heaven.

Suddenly with a loud cry, I grabbed the cushions of the chair and spewed my cum all over it. My body convulsed with each spurt as I emptied out my seed. The contraction of my ass on Sen. Tester’s pistoning dick while I went through my orgasm, brought on his own climax.

"I'm fucking cuming!" The senator cried out suddenly.

I pushed my ass against his crotch, driving his sperm-squirting dick as deep inside me as it would go, feeling his seed coat my bowels with a soothing warmth. Sen. Tester rested on top me for a couple of minutes as his breathing gradually slowed, and after his cock eventually slithered out of my ass he let go of my dick and we stood straight up.

“Damn, you're a good fuck. Hope to have your vote this November." He said as he grabbed his clothes and started dressing.

He sure does. And he left his sign in my yard like he left his load in my ass.

#The Senator from Montana #On the Campaign Trail #jon tester #fan fiction #tester fan fiction #politician #American politician

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wildbornsiren · 2 years ago

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12 Days of Fluffmas!: Charity Auction || Javy “Coyote” Machado/F!Reader

Charity Auction

Summary: Your friend wins tickets to a special auction. One of the lots up for sale is particularly interesting.

1,871 words Female/AFAB Reader.

Warning: Awkward flirting. Unrealistic bidding. This is all fun.

Notes: Is it December? No. Did I want to finish this challenge I set for myself? Yes. Day ten of the 12 days of Fluffmas! Comments and reblogs fuel my writing, likes are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading, it’s appreciated and means the most.

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“I can’t believe you dragged me into this.” You whisper playfully to Louise as you walk arm in arm into one of the local bars. The place had been decked out in twinkling lights and snowflakes, holiday music pumping through the speakers.

“I won tickets in the raffle, and I was told that Derek wouldn’t be interested in this.” Louise beams at you. You two had become fast friends at work, and she was someone who was so effervescent and bright it was hard to say no. “Plus, it goes to a good cause, we don’t have to bid on anything.”

There are a few donation buckets for local charities, as well as a couple signs that say that all profits of the evening will be donated. A few days ago, your office had held a holiday party, as well as a raffle for tickets to a special charity auction. Louise appears at your elbow holding two cocktails, handing you one.

“Let’s grab a table.” She says, her excitement is contagious, and you can’t help but grin.

Once you’re settled at a table, you get a chance to look around at the people packed into the bar. Most are dressed in their holiday finest, conversation and laughter adding to the buzzing energy in the room. There are servers wandering around, carrying trays of drinks and snacks. One walks by and you do a double take, nearly choking on your drink.

The server is tall, heavily muscle, stunningly handsome with a smile that was brighter than anything you dared to look at without sunglasses. He was also only wearing a pair of red velvet shorts with white faux fur at the waistband and hem.

“See something you like?”

Oh. His voice is warm and rich, slides down your back smooth and easy. Louise kicks you under the table and you squeak, realizing you’ve been staring at him mute. “Yes. Yeah, sure we’ll take some of that. Those.” You point to the appetizers on the tray he’s offering. “The snack. Snacks.”

His laugh is just as good as his voice, plush lower lip caught between his teeth when he winks, placing a plate on the table between you and Louse before walking off.

“Smooth.” Louise says. “Real smooth.”

“Did you see him?” You mutter, taking a sip of your drink. “Snack. Snack.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’m not allowed to talk for the rest of the night, okay?”

“Sweetheart, that man is a whole fucking buffet.” Louise is tracking him around the room. “Hell, all the waiters are full on meals. Snacks serving snacks.”

You dare to look around, seeing that most of the servers were dressed like the one who had stopped by your table. There are a few women as well, wearing red tank camisoles and shorts trimmed in faux fur just like the men.

A bell clangs loudly, the conversation dying down. The lights in the bar go down, the music getting a little quieter. There’s a squawk of microphone feedback, the crowd protesting. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we at the Hard Deck would like to welcome you to our first annual Secret Santa Auction! My name is Penny, and I will be your MC for the evening.” Cheers rise, some whistling. You clap, getting caught up in the merriment.

“All evening you have seen what is up for auction. Our lovely servers have volunteered not only to help me host this evening, but their time as well.” The woman with the mic is all smiles and beautiful. “Those who place the highest bid on each of our lots…” she points to the servers who wave. “Will win a dinner date with the Helper Elf they win. Proceeds will be split between a few local charities.”

You can feel the grin spreading on Louise’s face, the weight of her gaze. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.” She lights up. “I mean when’s the last time you went out on a date?”

“It wouldn’t be a date.” You motion between the two of you. “This, this is more of a date than what that would be.”

“Think of it as doing a good deed. All proceeds go to the sweet puppies and kittens.”

“You’ve lost your mind.” You mutter.

“You’re thinking about it. Chase that thought.” Louise grins.

“First up, we have a Helper Elf Bobby who is sweeter than sugar, and definitely on the nice list.” Penny’s voice amplified by the mic calls out. Standing next to her is a man, in the same shorts, but he’s wearing a t-shirt that matched the women’s camisoles. “A true Southern gentleman, he’s got a little spice but don’t worry, he’ll treat you like royalty. And, if you play your cards right, he’ll let you know what Bob really stands for.”

There’s some hooting and hollering, a few wolf whistles. The man, Bobby, next to Penny flushes darkly, but smiles. One of those smiles that is sweet but promises mischief.

“Bidding starts at 50 dollars!”

Bids climb quickly, a bidding war between two women. The bell clangs again, the final bid being $600. Bobby blows a kiss to the woman who placed the winning bid and disappears down a hallway.

“Please see Santa Mav, and we’ll get your gift all sorted.” Penny says, pointing to a man wearing a Santa hat and fake beard. “We’ve got two more Helper Elves waiting to make dinner plans with you, and then we’ll take a little break.”

“Our next Helper Elf is the beautiful Natasha!” A woman with dark hair and a wicked smile stands next to Penny. “If you’re lucky enough to join this spitfire for dinner, be on your toes. She’s got beauty and brains as well as an impressive right hook.”

There’s a few more good-natured catcalls and wolf whistles.

“A creature of legend, Phoenix will be someone you won’t ever forget. Bidding starts at $50 please!” The bids move even faster than they did with Bob, capping out at $750. Natasha waves at the winner, a deep flush on her cheeks before she’s disappearing down the same hall Bob had.

“Square up with Santa Mav!” Penny calls. “We have one more Helper Elf….” Protesting groans interrupt her. “For now, we’re going to let you all have a bit more fun before we bring out more beef.”

The server from earlier takes his place next to Penny. He towers over her, the twinkling Christmas lights making his skin nearly glow with warmth. His smile is so easy and gentle, and you swallow hard when his gaze seemingly lands on you. He winks, and butterflies explode in your tummy.

“There’s no way I can afford this.” You mutter, “I mean dinner with him is going to be ridiculous.”

“You’re getting it.” Louise grins. “Consider it my gift to you.”

“Louise,” you hiss.

“There’s a spark between the two of you. Let’s see what happens.” She grins, taking a sip of her drink. “It’ll be a great story to tell your parents. ‘This is my boyfriend, I won him in an auction.’”

You can’t help but laugh at that. You glance toward the makeshift stage and he’s watching you. There’s no mistaking it, warm brown eyes locked on you, his smile no less warm, but a bit softer.

“This is Helper Elf Javy.” Penny draws out his name, cheers rising once more. “While Southern boy Bob is all sugar, Javy is all spice. Hailing from New Orleans, this hot Cajun man will have you howling at the moon like a wild Coyote.” Once the yells had died down, Penny continues. “Bidding starts at $50.”

“Two hundred!” Louise yells.

“Two-fifty,” another woman calls.

“Three hundred.” A third enters the bidding war.

“Louise.” You glare at her, and she ignores you.

“Christmas and birthdays for the next ten years.” She mutters. “Six-fifty.”

“I’m splitting this with you.” You mutter.

“Deal, but I’m not going on the date.” Louise grins, “plus it’s a tax write off.” She winks. The bid had had risen, “Eight hundred!” Louise yells.

“Sold!” Penny calls out, ringing the bell. “Please see Mav and get everything settled.” Javy blows a kiss toward your table, and Louise ‘catches’ it, pressing it to your cheek.

“Come on,” Louise takes your hand, taking you over to the man dressed in the Santa suit. “Can we split this?”

He grins at the two of you, “Of course. Cash or cards ladies?” You pay your half with cash and a card, Louise paying off her half as well. “The winner can go ahead and join Coyote in the back room. Chat for a little bit and figure out some of the details.” He hands the two of you receipts.

“Now, go get your date.” Louise teases. “I’ll keep the table for us.”

You wander down the hallway, the noise of the bar fading away. You knock on a door labeled with a ‘staff only’ sign, and it opens. Javy is standing in front of you, that wide, beautiful smile on his face.

“I was hoping I’d see you.” He offers his hand, and you take it, letting him pull you further into the room. The door closes behind you. “If this wasn’t your type of thing, I was going to try to catch you before you left.”

“It’s not,” you laugh softly. “My friend won tickets to the auction, and she decided that you would be a good person to set me up with.”

“That’s a good friend.”

You introduce yourself properly, and the way he says your name makes your breath hitch. “I think it’s really sweet that you’re volunteering yourself.”

“It’s for a good cause.” Javy says. “When can I take you to dinner?” He pauses, flashing another one of those mega-watt smiles. “I mean, I’ve got a couple more hours here, and we could get something to eat afterward.”

“Is there anything open that late?”

“Sugar,” he says softly, and you look up from your shoes. “I’m asking you out now, not just for the dinner.”

“Really?”

He reaches out, gently lifting your chin up. His eyes are warm and gentle, his smile no less radiant, but far gentler. “Yes, really. I nearly forgot my name when I saw you walk in. I switched with one of the others so I would be able to talk to you at the table.” Javy’s touch is so warm and gentle, and you can’t help but smile back at him.

“I would like to get something to eat with you. Tonight.” You say, the words coming out in a jumbled rush. “And maybe two weeks from now. Saturday night.”

“I’d like that.” Javy says, writing his name with yours under the date that you tossed out for the auction dinner.

There’s a knock on the door before it opens slightly, a man sticking his head in. “We’ve got fifteen more minutes, Javy. I can’t stall for you any longer buddy.”

“I’ll be right there Rooster.” Javy says. The door closes, and he turns to you. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot after?” He shifts his weight, and you smile. It’s cute that this massive man is acting shy.

/end

#12 days of fluffmas #Javy 'Coyote' Machado/Reader #Javy 'Coyote' Machado/you #shelly writes #Javy 'Coyote' Machado #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction

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